#why does the man he is marrying look like the ring girl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cactus-cuddler · 4 months ago

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𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 ✭ 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub! virgin female reader

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Plot: There is no specific plot. Bucky and the reader like tease and are both dangerously attracted to each other

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: explicit sex, use of nicknames as "good girl", "slut" and "whore". Daddy kink and dirty talk. I don't think there are any other warnings.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 4.5k (sorry)

-------- ≪ °✾° ≫ Author's note: sorry for any mistakes that may be there, English is not my first language! And sorry if the scenes may be badly written, it's been a long time since I wrote a smut between a woman and a man.

I write this ff because today I turn 18 (Happy Birthday to me!!) and I want so sign it. From today I can interact with all the "minor DNI" posts!!

I don't care if you are minors, read it if you want <3 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

James Buchanan Barnes. The very mention of this name can make your heart race, recalling his powerful presence, his toned physique, and the intense gaze he fixes on you whenever your paths cross. Your thoughts often wander to him, an obsession that fills your mind in the quietest hours of the night.

Yet, despite the thoughts that consume you, you're still a virgin. You’ve never found someone you were willing to give your heart to, let alone something more intimate. You've had relationships, but each time, you’ve held back, refusing to let things go beyond harmless flirtation. The thought of being vulnerable like that has always kept you at a distance. But with him, it’s different. There’s something about Bucky that makes you reconsider everything.

Your relationship with Bucky is hard to define. Sometimes you get along well, but other times, you find yourself wishing he would just disappear. And then there are moments when you wish he’d stop arguing with you altogether, using his frustration in ways that words can’t express. Is that too much to ask?

You’re curled up on your couch with a cup of hot chocolate in hand and a blanket to ward off the winter chill. As you flip through the channels, trying to find something to watch, your phone buzzes with incoming messages. Seeing his name on the screen sends a pang through your chest.

Teasing him has always been your favorite game. You start a random movie, not really caring about the plot, as you wait for him to arrive. The distant sound of a motorcycle engine signals that you're in trouble now.

When the doorbell rings, you open it, quickly masking your excitement. He’s standing there in his pajamas, and you can’t help but giggle. His pants have a childish space motif, and the matching sweatshirt does nothing to diminish his appeal. You’re wrapped in a blanket, so you're not much better off in his eyes.

"Popcorn?" he asks, and you invite him in. As he sees the movie already playing, he reminds you of his earlier request. You shrug and sit on the couch, munching on the popcorn he brought.

“You’re a bad girl,” he says, taking the remote to choose something else to watch.

“Just the way you like them,” you reply with a smirk.

You and Bucky work together in the same company, nothing out of the ordinary. You handle the computers and accounting, while Bucky works with metal. His vibranium arm would be perfect for his job, but he rarely uses it. "Oops, I’m right-handed, I do it without thinking," he says when someone asks why he doesn’t use his more powerful arm. You’ve seen how he looks at women, and it stirs something within you—a mix of jealousy and curiosity.

You first started talking after you accidentally spilled coffee on his white shirt a few months ago. To make amends, you offered to clean it, using a trick you’d read in a 1950s magazine titled "How to Be the Perfect Housewife." Not that you’re aiming for that role; you detest the idea of being confined by outdated gender roles. Patriarchy is disgusting! You would never want to marry a man in your life who confines you to a house with four children, a dog, three cats and a cactus to take care of alone.

Your conversations started off innocent enough, but things took a turn when you began texting late into the night. You both started teasing each other, pushing boundaries just to see how far the other would go. It became a game, one where neither of you wanted to lose face, even as feelings began to creep in.

So, how did he end up at your place tonight? You’re not sure, and it worries you. He’s never been to your house before. Sure, he’s given you rides home after work, a habit that started after the coffee incident. It became a routine, all because you playfully challenged his chivalry. “You? A gentleman? Don’t make me laugh,” you had texted him one morning. That very day, he was waiting outside your building, opening the car door for you. "It doesn’t mean anything," you had said to him in thanks. But tonight feels different.

The movie he picks is just awful. It’s filled with scenes of sex without sense.

“Is this too much for you? Should I change it?” he asks each time, and you just shake your head. In your life you see, read and write stuff more scandalous.

“How boring, if done like this even sex becomes boring," Bucky complains about another sex scene with the missionary position.

“You talk big, but I bet you couldn’t do any better,” you say, challenging him, not realizing what you’ve just started.

“With just one touch, I could make you scream my name,” he says, his voice low and intense. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but you’re not backing down.

“I’d like to see you try,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your voice.

He looks at you, his gaze lingering, but then he sighs and turns back to the movie. “I’m a gentleman,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

You feel a wave of frustration, mixed with a sense of longing that you can’t quite shake. You don’t want him to be a gentleman; you want him to see you as more. You’re a ruthless woman, you won’t give up easily. If you are not satisfied with him, well you will do it yourself. In front of his eyes.

You take off your blanket and lift your shirt up to your hips and pull your panties off throwing them on the floor. You lie down on your back and put your feet on his knees. You put two fingers in your mouth and suck them in front of him. ‘He provoked me’. You repeat yourself so you don’t feel guilty about what you’re about to do.

You do small circular movements on your clit and slowly start to sigh for the pleasure you are causing yourself.

“Bucky..." you say between moaning as you start to penetrate your little cunt with two fingers. Bucky is doing everything he can to hold himself back. His erection thills in his boxer asking to be released and enjoy for you and your warmth however he does not want to give up. It will not look but has solid moral principles and not taking your virginity is one of those.

“Bucky… please fuck me with your cock,” you say clenching your couch with fingers to hold back your spasms. This provocation has hit the mark, his erection is now painful and not releasing it could drive him crazy. Reach out to your face, sweat drops are playing on your forehead. He orders you to sit down and you perform. You are sitting one next to the other and you have your leg over his to allow him free access to your pussy.

"I won’t take your virginity," he announces by passing his thumb along your big lips. An unsatisfied grunt comes out of your lips, you want more. Much more than that.

“Why not?" you complain "I want you Bucky, I want to shout your name" add grumbling.

"It would be a nice show, believe me sweetheart but I can’t deprive you of your first time with someone you love," he says. In a flash all the previous excitement fades away as if in a spell. You close your legs and ask him to leave. "You can’t decide what’s right or wrong for me" you told him by pulling out your voice. He’s made his choice, and for tonight, that will have to be enough.

As he leaves, you find yourself wondering what it would take to bridge the gap between you. Because despite everything, one thing is clear: you want more from him, and you’re not sure how much longer you can wait.

The next morning, you wake up hoping that the night with Bucky was just a bad dream—a nightmare you could shake off with a shiver. But as you lie there, staring at the ceiling, you realize that it was all too real. The memory comes rushing back: you, vulnerable and exposed, touching yourself in front of him, moaning his name, only to be met with rejection. Your cheeks flush with a mix of shame and frustration. How could I have let myself go like that?

But there’s another thought that creeps in, unbidden. Despite everything, a part of you finds it almost sweet that Bucky doesn’t want to take your virginity unless it’s something more than just lust. He wants you to save it for someone you truly love. But the truth is, you do want it. You want him. The image of his lips on yours, his hands exploring every inch of your body, flashes through your mind, and you feel a pang of desire so intense it nearly takes your breath away. You’ve fantasized about him for so long—wondered if he could fulfill the dark, desperate needs you’ve kept buried. You’re sure you wouldn’t regret giving him your first time, so why should he?

‘Maybe he doesn’t want me,’ you think suddenly, the possibility of hitting you like a bucket of cold water. ‘Maybe I’m just a game to him, someone he can tease and torment without ever really wanting.’ The thought is unbearable, twisting in your gut like a knife.

You force yourself out of bed, deciding that you won’t let these thoughts ruin your day. Before work, you brew a hot cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will give you the energy you need to push through. You can’t face Bucky today—not after last night. Instead, you opt for your favorite mode of transport, the one so many dismiss as the “poor man’s commute.” But you’ve always found the train comforting, a place where you can disappear into your thoughts without the pressure of small talk or the need to keep up appearances.

The ride is uneventful, the rhythmic clatter of the train soothing your nerves somewhat. When you arrive at your stop, your office is just a short walk away. You’re early—too early, really—so you take your time, letting your mind wander as you stroll. The morning air is crisp, and the world feels strangely peaceful. ‘Why can’t my mind be this calm?’ you wonder, but of course, it’s not that simple. Last night’s events linger, casting a shadow over everything.

Just as you’re about to step inside, your phone rings, the sound jolting you out of your thoughts. His name flashes on the screen, and your heart skips a beat. What does he want now?

"Y/N, come down now or we'll be late!" Bucky's voice snaps through the line, sharp with irritation. You can almost see the frown on his face, the way his brows would knit together. But with a calmness that surprises even you, you tell him you're already at the office, having taken the train.

"I hope you're joking," he growls, his voice low and husky, sending a familiar shiver down your spine. Even when he's angry, it's a voice that could melt you.

"Sorry, I should have warned you," you reply, hanging up before he can say more. The truth is, you didn't want to face him this morning, not after last night. The thought of seeing his cold blue eyes, remembering how they watched you with a mix of desire and restraint, makes your chest tighten.

You greet your colleagues warmly, slipping on your glasses as you sit at your desk, but your mind is elsewhere. The memory of Bucky's gaze, the way his hand almost trembled before he pulled away from you, keeps playing on a loop.

Hours pass in a blur of work until lunchtime, when Bucky suddenly appears at your usual spot in the break room. The moment you see him, your heart skips a beat. His presence fills the space, commanding and intense. You watch as he approaches, your colleagues' chatter fading into the background.

"I need to talk to you, Y/N," he says, his voice a mix of urgency and something deeper-something almost vulnerable. His eyes, however, are still guarded, a wall you've never been able to fully break through.

Your colleagues exchange knowing glances, smirking, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Without a word, you follow Bucky out of the room, conscious of the curious eyes behind you.

He leads you to the women's bathroom, and as soon as the door closes, he turns to you, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he begins, but the words seem empty, as if even he doesn't believe them.

"For what?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart is pounding now, and you don't know if it's from anger, confusion, or the mere proximity to him.

"For last night. I have no right to tell you who should take your virginity," he says, but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand, the heat of embarrassment rushing to your face.

"Don't say that out loud!" you hiss, glancing around as if someone might be listening. The idea that anyone might hear about your inexperience makes you cringe.

His lips curl into a smirk beneath your hand, and he gently removes it, his fingers brushing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of electricity through you. "Do you still want it?" he whispers, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath on your neck. His voice is dark, teasing, but there's something else there too-a hint of uncertainty, as if he's afraid of your answer.

Your breath catches as he presses his knee between your legs, his hands firm on your hips. God, why does he have to be so confusing? You need him, but his mixed signals are driving you insane.

"You have to understand, I don't want you to regret anything you do with me," he murmurs against your lips, finally adjusting his knee just where you need it. Your body responds instantly, a wave of heat pooling between your legs.

His words are laced with concern, but also with a promise of something darker. "Even though it may not seem like it, I really care about you," he continues, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek, a gesture so tender it makes your chest ache. You feel small under his gaze, like a puzzle he's trying to figure out. And yet, in this position, you're certain you could unravel completely in his hands.

"The day I fuck you, I want to hear words like 'I love you, Daddy' coming out of your mouth. I don't want it to be a simple one-night stand, okay?" he finishes, pulling back just as quickly as he came, leaving you breathless and reeling.

As the door closes behind him, you're left with the echo of his words, your thoughts spiraling. 'How can he have this much control over me?' you wonder, struggling to steady your breath. Your heart is racing, your body still humming with the desire he left behind. Until yesterday, you were convinced your relationship with Bucky was built on mutual dislike and a twisted game of dominance. But now, you're not so sure. There's something deeper-a need, an almost primal urge to possess and be possessed.

The day you finally give in to him won't be gentle. You can feel it in the way your bodies clash, in the intensity of his gaze. It will be raw, fierce, and everything you've secretly craved. And when it happens, you'll be ready to let him see every part of you-the parts you've never shown anyone else, not even yourself.

After work Bucky takes you home, you decide to let go of what happened because now you know that he wants you as much as you do. He wants to be there for you and give you everything you can give.

"I've been thinking about what you said all day," you admit, adjusting Bucky's seatbelt. It feels tighter than it should and you think it's the reason you're short of breath when in reality it's the man in the driver's seat who's gripping the wheel in a way that's too erotic for your tastes.

"What conclusion have you come to?" he asks without taking his eyes off the road. The way his jaw clenched when he spoke and the hint of a neat beard on his cheeks spark some very perverse thoughts in you.

"I want you Bucky, so much. It wouldn't be a one night stand, I know I'd be addicted to your body pressing against mine," you admit bravely and a smile lights up his face.

“Show me how much you want me,” he taunts you.

You decide to please him without using your sharp tongue and you reach out to the crotch of his pants to feel what you have dreamed of so much. Under your fingers you feel him slowly swelling and as you feel it you bite your lip to hold back the excitement that is growing inside you.

You unzip his pants while he is still driving, you notice that he has slowed down and on his face you notice the desire he has for you. As soon as you free his cock you notice that your fantasies did not do him justice. It is definitely bigger and thicker than the one you imagined you rode every night. You wet your hand with saliva - as you have seen done in many pornos - and you start to touch it enjoying the heat on your hand.

You make small movements with the palm of your hand and the idea that someone could see you does nothing but excite you more. You are not an expert, you do not know what he might like more but despite this the movements of your hand are decisive.

"I knew you were a good girl," Bucky says from behind the wheel. Seeing how he's reacting to your touch excites you even more. His breathing is no longer regular, you see his expression satisfied by your touch and when you notice that there are only a few meters left to your house you almost feel sorry.

You start to pump faster, you have decided to challenge yourself and you want to make him come before you get to your house. As your hand increases the speed his sighs become faster and faster and when you see from his look that he is close to that point you take off your belt and lower yourself towards his big cock and take his tip between your lips until your mouth is filled.

"Such a good girl," he says to you while parking the car and you look into his eyes smiling, swallowing all his seed and licking your lips to show him that you liked it.

He fixes his cock in his jeans and then follows you into your home. He intends to return the favor you have done him and will really make you scream as he always threatened while he was teasing you. Once the door is closed behind you, you begin to kiss with desire. Your tongues touch and search for each other and feeling your taste mixed with his cum gives him another throbbing erection despite the orgasm of a few minutes ago.

“I knew there was a whore inside you looking for my cock," he tells you in a hoarse voice. Your body is on fire, you need him to give you more. He makes you lie down on the same couch where he rejected you less than twenty-four hours ago and begins to undress you hastily without paying attention to your clothes. He scatters everything around the room and when you are finally naked in front of his gaze he admires you in amazement.

You are perfect. Your body is perfect in his eyes. Every little imperfection that you see in it are things that he loves. You are a Greek goddess in his eyes and every part of you belongs to him and you both know it. From the day you stained his white shirt with coffee you already knew it would end like this.

He starts taking your breasts with his big hands, only his mind knows how many times he has wanted to touch them, bite them and suck them and now everything is possible. With his metallic hand he holds one of your nipples tightly, the cold touch of his hand makes you arch your back with pleasure and in the meantime he sucks and bites the other nipple making you want even more. Your gasps are music to his ears, your body is like an instrument in his hands and with every touch he is able to let out those little sounds he loves.

“Bucky, please I want more,” you beg with the help of your needy gaze.

"What a needy whore, isn't you?" he sneers and you nod to agree with him. You want to be his whore for tonight and for all the nights to come. He leaves a trail of kisses all over your body and then lingers on your pussy. The place where you need him to focus.

With his thumb he begins to touch your clit and in the meantime his gaze is fixed on your face dominated by pleasure from that insignificant touch. While with his thumb he continues his work with his middle finger he begins to penetrate your cunt going deep to feel how wet you are just for him.

"What a wet pussy we have," he compliments and then licks your juices from his fingers and satisfied he licks his lips.

He makes you sit with your back to the backrest and positions himself between your legs, placing your legs on his shoulders. As he enters you with two fingers, he begins to lick your clit while your hands are firmly on his head. You push him closer to you while desperate cries escape from your lips. Before that, you had never felt anything more pleasurable. His tongue moves expertly on your tight pussy sucking the right spots and alternating with licking.

“Bucky… I’m about to come,” you tell him between sighs of pleasure.

"Good girls only come when they are told, you are a good girl aren't you?" he tells you after taking his tongue off the place he was devouring with pleasure. He puts his fingers in your mouth and you impulsively suck his fingers taking all your flavor away from him. Your pussy is sweet and the taste and smell make Bucky ecstatic. He starts to undress too, letting his erection come out, now it seems even bigger than before and you don't know if you'll be able to take it all. But you know you'll make it, you want to show Bucky that you're a good girl. Good girls can take all the cock.

Before filling your pussy Bucky positions himself between your breasts and you squeeze them around his hard and veiny member. He starts moving with restrained rhythms while you stick out your tongue to lick the tip when you have the chance.

"You have no idea how much I've dreamed of being between these tits," he tells you between thrusts. Your hot tits around his throbbing cock are an incredible sight. Then Bucky takes a condom from his jeans pocket and orders you to put it on him.

You tear it off with your fingers and place it on the tip of Bucky's cock and then with your lips you cover that member with the condom.

“You're my good girl," he says, caressing your cheek. Then with a brusque gesture he turns you around and you find yourself doggy style on the couch with your legs wide open. He spits on his fingers and lubricates your pussy and then he enters you. Slowly and trying to get you used to it, it's still your first time.

His thrusts are slow but firm. It's not enough for you, you want more.

"Bucky..." you say between sighs.

"I know, baby... let your pussy get at ease to my big cock," he replies, putting his hand around your neck and then touching your breasts with the nipples still hard and stained by him. As soon as he notices that you no longer feel any pain, he increases his speed. He fills you up completely, making you scream with pleasure, he doesn't give you time to make you understand that he's sending your mind into a spin.

"Bucky... I'm going to..." you can't finish your sentence because he slaps you on the right butt. The slap sends you into paradise.

"You can only come when daddy tells you to," he replies, slapping you again, this time on your left ass cheek making you scream in pleasure.

After many deep and fast thrusts you feel the orgasm inside you, holding it back is fucking hard but you don't want to disobey Bucky, or rather, your daddy. He has taken away all your sharp responses with his cock turning you into a perfect whore for him. Like you always dreamed.

"Come for daddy, doll," he orders you, he's almost ready to come too but he wants to do it to you. On top of your body. You don't have to be told twice and you come on his big cock and as soon as he comes out of you he takes off the condom and orders you to get on your knees in front of him.

He starts touching himself in front of you and explodes in an orgasm on your beautiful face throwing away every single ounce of purity you had left. You lick your lips hoping to be able to take some of his cum and be able to taste it again like in the car. He grabs your neck and kisses you with fury. Your mouths both taste like the sex you shared and you can't be happier.

“You did really well,” he tells you and you bite your lip at the compliment. “I'm proud of you," he adds, giving you another long, longing kiss.

You go to take a shower to wash your sweaty bodies but "by mistake" Bucky's cock enters your pussy again and fucks you in your shower again giving you the second orgasm of the day and again by mistake his cock ends up in your mouth and Bucky teaches you how to give a blowjob that satisfies him. As soon as you finish the shower you slip into your bed, he wants to be with you after what you have shared and once in bed you fall asleep hugging each other.

The next morning, thankfully a Sunday, you devour everything you have to eat. You were so into sex that you didn't have dinner last night and your arguments resume but end with you rolling around in bed.

This new perspective excites you more than it should, every argument now corresponds to a perfect fuck and now to shut you up Bucky will put his cock in your mouth. "What a beautiful whore you are when you suck it," and these dirty words help you get an orgasm. Bucky says good girls like to be called whores and you are one.

"You're all mine," he tells you while you're sitting at the kitchen table where you've just finished eating, he said he wanted dessert so you you decide to propose yourself as a meal. You took off your panties and without being asked he was between your legs sucking and licking his sweet dessert.

"I love you daddy," you say closer to your orgasm, those are Bucky's favorite words. They make him understand that everything about you is his, your heart, your perfect cunt, your mouth and the rest of your body.

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hai7ani · 6 months ago

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familiar / haitani rindou

Haitani Rindou turns 32, gets married, and he silently wonders why people are so nice to him now.

the old retired ladies promoting milk powders and selling fresh fruits in the grocery store rushes up to him at any chance they get. one time when browsing for milk formulas one of them had tapped him on the shoulder, pointed at a brand she was not promoting for but thought was amazing when her own grandchild had tried it, and then placed a bunch of other stuff in his cart that she thinks his wife would need. an example would be containers of freshly cut mixed fruits that her colleague had just prepared. you remember him telling you that her tone was a lot more different than the average grocery store promoter trying to sell you a product ー it was almost as if she was talking to her own son.

when shopping for flowers just like he does every Sunday suddenly the part-timer who is usually silent, does her job and only responds to customers' needs had stepped up to him and pointed out a few selections that she believes are lovely for expecting parents. she was even smiling when doing so. and you remember he came home to you that day with two bouquets of fresh flowers ー chrysanthemum and baby's breath ー one in each hand.

today when taking you out for dinner in the local family-owned restaurant the daughter had served you a warm bowl of beef bone soup. neither of you had ordered it for yourselves, and you were about to tell her that, but her mother speaks before you can. "drink it, love. the soup is good for you." she yells a little from where she sits at the cashier with a grin. when Rindou stands to pay after finishing up her husband then refuses to take your bill for the night. "it's okay, son. dinner's on the house this time." he pats his shoulder and pushes you both out the door. "take care, you two. the next time you come i'll cook tofu for you, alright?" it was directed to you and you'd laughed, a little embarrassed but feeling warm and fuzzy nonetheless.

and now you are listening to your own husband ramble on and on about his new mysteries while he massages your feet on the couch.

"i seriously don't get it. i've been going to these places for years now and they were never this nice to us. i mean, they are nice, but never this nice, you know? it's the first time we've ever gotten a free meal from Kobayashi's."

we. us.

you brush his hair back, admiring the light wrinkles that have started to form on his skin. "that's exactly it, don't you think?" you bring it up and he hums in confusion.

"perhaps the reason why they've been so nice lately is exactly because you've been going to these places for years now. they know you."

"huh?"

"if you think about it, they've watched you go from an ordinary man to a husband, then a father. watched you bring a girl they've never seen before to these places more often and suddenly we go together all the time, you have a ring on your finger and i am pregnant. perhaps it is why. a sense of familiarity, maybe?"

Rindou looks at you as if you are love and warmth and everything pink and red and blue and purple and-

you are right, actually. you'd went from a girl he met at a bar to becoming the love of his life, the woman who is now carrying the love you both share. and the ladies at the grocery store, the Kobayashi's, the part timer who's been around even after graduating university years ago? they've all watched him grow.

when Rindou was 17 and had gotten ambushed by a rival gang alone, it was madam Kobayashi who'd ushered him into their store way past the last call and offered to cook him a nice meal, had her medical student son patch him up, her husband to chase away the remaining guys who were waiting for Rindou to come back out. her daughter had been about Rindou's age then, hiding behind the cashier and watching as he ate in silence with a cut to his lip, another on his eyebrow. (to this day still no one except for you, her, and him, knows that the reason he'd gotten ambushed that day was because he'd stood up for miss Kobayashi when she was getting bullied by one of the delinquents. she still thanks him for what he'd done whenever you both finish up your meal and get ready to leave.) Rindou was 17 when he'd first discovered what it was like to care for people; to be a human before anything else.

the two ladies from the grocery store wasn't yet retired and working this job back then. the promoter lady used to be the janitor who was working in the office building of his first job. she'd watched him gone through periods of unknowing, confusion, stress, to become a solid man of status today. the lady who is selling fruits used to work as a professional tutor and had been the one to tutor Rindou and his brother on Mathematics. although she is mute and can't respond in words when her students have confusing questions to ask, the brothers still thought of her as a good teacher because of the way she taught, which is why they'd stuck around and refused to switch teachers despite their parents' disapproval. because she is mute, she can only count on her colleague to dump containers of freshly cut fruits into his cart while motioning for her to tell him things that she actually wants to say to him whenever he visits the store.

the part timer at the florist is a lot younger than he is, but she have been working there for a very long time. watched him when he was still an inexperienced bachelor pacing around the store wondering which flower would be good on a first date to buying the same flowers every Sunday because you'd liked the lilies that she recommended.

it'd be heartwarming for anyone to see the boy you watch grow around love, into love, finding love, to marrying her and becoming a father.

"...yeah. maybe."

#writing #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers fluff

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marvelmusing · 7 months ago

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Can I Ask You A Question?

Part of The Darkling Wears Prada AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozov x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Alina has lots of questions about her new job and your boss. Meanwhile, Aleksander has an important question for you - it just takes him some time to realise it.

Warnings [18+]: brief smut, fingering, references to sex, CEO x assistant trope, praise kink

Read part one -> HERE

My Masterlist

“Why is he so nice to you?”

“Who?”

“Aleksander.” When you breathe out a soft laugh, shaking your head at Alina’s question, she leans closer, as if she’s willing you to understand. “Today, he obliterated a designer for picking out the wrong purse.”

“That wrong purse delayed the photoshoot by almost an hour,” you reason.

She tilts her head, clearly waiting for an explanation - why does the infamously fierce Aleksander Morozov have a soft spot for you?

Sighing quietly, you look down at your drink, fidgeting with the stem of your glass.

“I’ve worked for Aleksander for a long time.”

She waits for more.

“I started off in your position - his second assistant. Nina was his first assistant at the time, and I felt like I would never be able to impress him. The first time he really noticed me was the night before his and Luda’s third wedding anniversary.”

“He’s married?”

A frown creases at your brows.

“Not anymore. The divorce was years ago. It made the headlines for days. How do you not-” You shake your head. Just because you know everything that goes on in Aleksander’s life doesn’t mean everyone else does. “Never mind. Nina had taken the night off for a date. I’m sure you’ve noticed, there’s no such thing as a night off when you work for Aleksander.”

Alina nods in agreement.

“A storm came in while he was in Ketterdam, which stopped him from getting on his flight home. No planes were flying in or out of the city.”

“What did you do?”

“Everything I could. I called in a favour with Nikolai, to borrow one of his private jets. Paid for it to land at a private airfield in the Kerch countryside. They managed to charter his flight to Balakriev and I drove two hours to pick him up myself when his usual driver didn’t respond to my calls.”

“And?”

You smile softly.

“He made it home for their anniversary. The last anniversary they had before the divorce.”

“Why did they split up?”

“There was always love in their marriage, but they didn’t understand each other. Aleksander loves his job. He always will. If his partner can’t understand that, the relationship won’t last.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What’s the Morozov rule?” The sound of Alina’s question draws your attention away from the email you’re in the midst of writing. She looks away shyly when you meet her eyes. “Some girls were talking about it in the bathroom earlier.”

Gaze skimming back over the screen of your laptop, you breathe out a quiet scoff.

“Let me guess, the heart-eyed interns?”

She nods.

“A lot of the fashion elites have a specific rule,” you explain. “It’s partially fashion advice, partially PR to make them more memorable.” You click send on your email, changing window to examine Aleksander’s schedule for tomorrow. “Like the Chanel rule - take a look at yourself before you leave the house and remove one item of your outfit.”

Alina listens intently.

“The Morozov rule is to always make sure your underwear matches your shoes. Because at the end of the day, when you take off your dress or your suit that’s all you’ll be wearing.”

A smirk twists at your lips.

“So, if you’re ever wondering what colour underwear Aleksander is wearing, just take a look at his shoes.”

Alina blushes.

“Really?”

“Of course. What kind of a man is he if he doesn’t follow his own rule?”

“How do you know he-”

The sound of Aleksander’s voice rings out from the door to his office, cutting through your conversation with Alina.

“Milaya.”

Responding immediately to your summons, you stand from your desk and make your way into his office. He glances up at you from his papers momentarily, a frown creasing between his brows as his gaze returns to the words in front of him.

“I don’t have anything to wear for my trip to Novyi Zem.” He holds out his credit card, balanced between two of his slim fingers. “I will need enough for six nights. Look at the itinerary for the trip and purchase anything you deem necessary. You know what I like.”

After taking the card from him, you nod.

“Yes, sir. I will be back before your meeting with Nikolai.”

Turning on your heel, you move back towards the door, only for his voice to stop you.

“And milaya?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take Miss Starkova. If she’s going to gain any sense of style for herself she needs to see someone competent at work.”

“I’ll do my best,” you assure him. Like everyone in the fashion industry, you live for Aleksander’s praise.

The hint of a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“As you always do.”

His remark makes your stomach flip.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What’s this?”

Alina peers into the black garment bag curiously.

“A dress. For you. It’s Valentino. One of Aleksander’s picks for the gala.”

She blinks at you in surprise.

“I’m going to the gala?”

You nod.

“Genya will help you get ready. We leave at seven.”

It isn’t long before Aleksander is settling his hand on your lower back, steering the two of you through the crowd at the entrance. Alina looks relieved at the sight of your arrival - you can only imagine how worried she was being surrounded by the flurry of photographers.

As the gala begins, Aleksander claims a corner of the room for himself, waiting for the designers and reporters and politicians to come to him.

Whenever someone approaches your group, you turn your face towards Aleksander, hiding your words in the crook of his neck as you inform him of the names of the people heading his way. His fingers play with the seam of your dress, dancing distractedly down your spine.

Occasionally, you find yourself adjusting the collar of his shirt, fixing the position of his tie, or smoothing down the lapels of his jacket. Just to keep your hands occupied. Unlike a usual gala, where you would be standing one pace behind him, Aleksander keeps you on his arm tonight. Deep down, you know it’s because he doesn’t have a plus one, but it makes you feel special nonetheless.

It’s only once you step out of the little bubble Aleksander always creates, that you stop enjoying yourself. As you place your drinks order at the bar, you attract the attention of Malyen Oretsev - a mediocre journalist - and his friends.

“There she is,” he remarks. “Morozov’s favourite pet.”

Mikhael smirks.

“I don’t know about that, Mal.” He jerks his head towards Aleksander. “Looks like he’s got a shiny new toy to play with.”

Glancing over, you see Alina looking at Aleksander rather bashfully as they seem to be engaged in a somewhat stilted conversation. The sight makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Have a nice evening,” you state casually, collecting your drinks before you head back in the direction of Aleksander and Alina.

All night, you try your best to ignore Mikhael’s words, but it seems they’ve burrowed their way into your psyche.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Why can’t I give him the book?”

Alina peers curiously at the book, as you turn the pages slowly to show her the magazine mockups for next month’s issue.

“Aleksander is very selective about who he allows into his house.” Alina seems mildly offended and you decide to soften the blow slightly by adding, “Besides, he usually likes to do a final run through so that he can brief me on tomorrow’s agenda.”

Towards the end of the month, during the final stages of development for the next publication, you usually find yourself working late at Aleksander’s house. Over the years, there’s been countless times when you’ve helped him rework an entire issue in a matter of hours, pouring your ideas together over his kitchen table.

Luckily, this month has been somewhat smooth sailing. Though that doesn’t mean your to-do list isn’t still a mile long. When you’re alone with Aleksander like this, the persona he’s created for himself loosens and he’s patient as you ask him enough questions to be prepared for the day ahead of you tomorrow.

“Anything else?” he asks.

You shake your head, remarking as you bend your neck from side to side,

“All I need now is a hot bath.”

“Use mine,” he states, not even looking up at you as he finishes filing away the pages into the book. “Stay the night.”

“What?”

He raises a brow at you.

“You ought to know by now that I don’t like repeating myself.”

“I- Are you sure?” He gives you a firm look and heat rushes to your cheeks. “Sorry, stupid question. Thank you.”

He shows you into his personal bathroom, a lavish en-suite connected to his bedroom by a wooden folding door. He’s blasé about his toiletries, opening a cupboard to show you before he retreats back into his bedroom.

Once the bath is full of water and a copious amount of bubbles, you slip out of your clothing and into the tub with your hair and makeup still intact. The warmth makes you sigh softly, closing your eyes as you tilt your head back against the rim of the bath. It’s only the sound of the door opening that makes you open your eyes again.

Aleksander stands in the open doorway, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up haphazardly and the buttons undone down to the centre of his chest. His gaze is heated as his eyes remain locked on yours, and despite the intensity you don’t shy away from him.

He circles around the bath tub slowly, his knuckles tracing the curve of your neck when he finally stands behind you.

His thumbs press into the centre of your back, working on the tension in the muscles that no amount of stretching can ease. He moves his hands knowingly, finding the areas that give you the most discomfort after long hours at the office. When he presses the right spot, your back arches, your body pliant in his hold as you breathe out a soft moan.

He smirks, cocky in the fact that he knows only his touch can bring you this sort of relief. His smirk fades slightly, as his focus shifts and he traces his fingers up your back, stroking over your shoulders.

He presses his face against your cheek, his lips brushing over your skin as he breathes in the scent of his soap. Tantalisingly close to a kiss. Then he sinks onto his knees, his hands descending beneath the water.

Turning your head, you’re face to face with Aleksander, your nose brushing against his as he draws a slow line down your body, between the valley of your breasts before he circles your navel.

“May I?” he murmurs.

“Please, Aleksander.”

With one hand, he grasps the back of your neck to limit your squirming, while the other descends downwards to play with your cunt. It’s slow and deliberate, the way he works you up towards your orgasm. The only sound in the room is your breathy gasps and the subtle splash of bath water against the sides of the tub.

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined what Aleksander might be like in bed. You know you aren’t alone in that. The rumours all paint him in the same light. Dominant. Controlling. Mildly sadistic. That’s what makes the praises that fall from his lips all the more effective.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmurs directly into the crook of your neck. His voice is a soft and soothing rasp. “You’re doing so well for me.” He smiles when you gasp loudly, writhing with unabashed pleasure. “Utterly perfect.”

His words fade away, until all you can hear is the hurried beat of your heart hammering away in your chest as you come astonishingly close to your release.

“Please, Aleksander. I need it. Need you, oh, fuck-”

He rests his hand on the rim of the tub, palm upwards as he anticipates the sudden backwards motion of your head when you reach your climax. As pleasure courses through your body, his hand curls around to cradle the back of your head. He’s silent, eyeing you attentively as the aftereffects slowly wind down.

“Aleksander?” you whisper.

His thumb strokes down the sensitive skin behind your ear.

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

He regards you seriously, his eyes flickering over your features, then he nods. Before you can lean upwards to kiss him, he adds,

“If you do, I won’t be able to stop myself from climbing into this bath to take this further.”

“And if I don’t want you to stop yourself?”

He grips the nape of your neck, directing your mouth to meet his.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Do I have to?” Alina whines, hiding her face with her hands in embarrassment at the thought of heading a few floors down to the lingerie photoshoot to retrieve the file of images taken today.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure her. “Aleksander wants to look at the photos before the models go home for the day.”

“Can’t the photographers just email them to him?”

You shake your head.

“He likes to look at the printouts.”

She sighs.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

She returns with red cheeks, gripping the paper folder tightly in her hands. She doesn’t make eye contact with you as she walks by your desk to give the folder to Aleksander. Almost as soon as she sits down at her desk opposite you, Aleksander calls for you.

“Milaya.”

Alina busies herself with typing as you walk by her, into Aleksander’s office.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’d like your opinion on something.” He selects a page, turning it over in his hand so that he’s offering it to you. “What do you think of this?”

Taking the page in hand, you look down at the two images, side by side. The first is a close up of a model wearing an unbelievably expensive bralette.

Pale blue boning, covered in a soft mesh a few shades lighter. The entire garment has been decorated with intricate embroidery, adorned in pearls and tiny gems that create the illusion of flowers. The image beside it shows off the matching thong - a tiny triangle of fabric embellished with the same exquisite details.

“The photos?”

He shakes his head.

“The outfit. Would you wear something like this?”

Heat spreads over your cheeks at his question.

“I would. It’s very pretty.”

“Do you like the colour?” he asks, selecting another page to show you. “Or do you prefer the pink?”

After considering both pieces, you admit quietly,

“I like the blue.”

He hums.

“Very well.” He holds out his hand expectingly and you place the pages back in his palm. “Your measurements haven’t changed have they?”

His question makes your brows scrunch together in confusion.

“No, sir.”

“The designer is creating a custom piece as a gift for me. Offering it to anyone else in this building but you would be a waste.”

“A waste?”

He nods, not looking up at you.

“That’s all.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What’s wrong?” Alina asks you.

She must have noticed your anxious fidgeting; you’ve straightened the same pen on your desk four times already. But you can’t tell her what is actually on your mind.

“Nothing. I’m just keeping an eye on the time. Aleksander’s driver should be arriving soon.”

Sure enough, your phone rings and Aleksander’s driver is on the line, informing you that he’s parked outside the building. Once you’ve retrieved Aleksander, you accompany him down in the elevator.

He lists a few tasks for you to complete while he is out at his meeting and you distractedly make a note of them all. It’s only once the two of you are out in the fresh air, that you’re able to speak.

“I need to talk to you.” He doesn’t turn, ignoring you until you grasp at his sleeve, just as he reaches his car. “Aleksander.”

He turns to face you.

“What is it?”

Instantly, the weight of his eyes makes you nervous. Of course, you’ve thought about what you want to say to him but now the words fail you. The Aleksander in front of you now is different from the one you were with the other night.

“It’s about that night at your house,” you clarify. “I don’t want any special treatment because of what happened between us.”

He raises a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Special treatment?” he repeats.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the set you offered me, but I don’t want anyone to think you’re favouring me.”

“Tell me about the designer of that piece.”

“She’s a Ravkan designer. All her work is couture, with hand stitched embroidery and embellishments. The pearls and gems are all sourced sustainably; she limits her collection to only forty pieces per style to minimise the environmental impact…”

When you realise how much you’re talking - about things that Aleksander most likely knows already - your words trail off into nothing. His mouth quirks into a half-smile that he quickly smoothes out into a more neutral expression.

“You are the one of the few people who understand the value of that design,” he says in a low voice. “And that is the only reason I wanted you to have it.”

“The only reason?” you repeat, hoping that he might have wanted you to have the lingerie because you would look good in it.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he glances down at the front of your top, eyeing the skin on show there briefly before he turns away, leaving you in shock as he climbs into his car. Did Aleksander just eye up your cleavage?

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Are those new?”

Alina’s question makes you peer down at your shoes - the object of her attention - and you smile.

“Yes. They are.”

The pale blue of your shoes are an almost perfect match to the lingerie set Aleksander had gifted to you - not to mention the heels are adorned in shimmering gems and pearls.

Alina takes the time to admire them, as the two of you stand beside the printer.

“Miss Starkova,” Aleksander calls out, standing in the doorway between his office and the one you share with Alina. “I need ten scarves from Gucci, and fetch my coffee on your way back in.”

Alina glances at you momentarily, wide eyed, before she nods resolutely.

“Yes, sir.”

There’s an anxious edge to her movements as she grabs her phone and bag, but she seems determined to adhere to Aleksander’s demands on her own this time. Both you and Aleksander watch her leave.

When you turn back to face him, Aleksander’s gaze is sweeping down your body, assessing your outfit as he always does, yet he lingers on your shoes for a moment. His throat bobs lightly as he swallows, his eyes darkening as they meet yours.

“A perfect match,” he observes.

Before you can respond, he turns and walks back into his office.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Where have you been?” Alina asks, shifting her weight anxiously on the pavement.

Cheeks flushing with warmth, you wipe at your lower lip with your thumb to ensure your makeup is still intact. The two of you head up the steps, into the entrance of Cartier.

“The car got caught in traffic.”

“Aleksander must have been furious.” You hum rather distractedly in agreement, smoothing down your skirt.

“He’s waiting in the car now, so we’ll have to make this quick.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Where are you going?” Alina asks, turning to watch as you back away down the pavement. “I thought we were celebrating.” The last night of fashion week, the pinnacle of all your hard work over the last year has been finally reached.

It’s been almost a year since Alina first started working alongside you, but you don’t yet trust her with the full truth when you answer.

“I’m going to head back to the hotel,” you tell her before adding, “I’m exhausted.”

“Do you want me to walk with you?”

Shaking your head, you tuck your coat tighter around your body.

“I’ll be fine, thanks. Go enjoy yourself.”

When you finally reach your hotel bed, you collapse onto the mattress, still wearing your coat and shoes. It’s completely unintentional, the way you fall asleep draped over the bed.

After an indeterminable amount of time passes, a kiss is pressed to your cheek, rousing you from your slumber as someone nestles themselves over your body.

“Hello there, sleeping beauty,” a familiar voice coos playfully. Blinking the drowsiness from your eyes, you murmur a mildly bemused response,

“Sasha?”

He laughs softly.

“Who else, milaya?” He presses another kiss to your cheek, his lips moving toward your ear. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I stuck my head in the study,” you explain sleepily. “You were working… didn’t want to disturb you.”

He slips your coat off your shoulders, lowering kisses across your neck and collarbones as he reaches for the zipper on the back of your dress.

“You should have. I would have come to bed hours ago had I known you were back.”

“I’m so tired,” you murmur as your eyelids droop. Aleksander smiles fondly, pulling your dress down your body.

“You outdid yourself this year.” A pleased smile lifts the corners of your mouth. Aleksander lifts himself off the bed, crossing the room towards the en-suite. “The Starkova girl has improved,” he states, wringing out a cloth. “You seem to like this one.”

“I do,” you confirm, kicking your shoes off onto the floor. “She’s nice, though she’s been asking a lot of questions lately.”

“About us?”

“About you, mostly. I think she has a crush.”

“Poor girl,” he remarks drily as he sits down beside you and begins to wipe the makeup from your face. “Have you told her about us?”

“I thought you wanted this to be a secret?”

He shakes his head.

“I want to keep you safe. From the press and the gossip that follows me. Besides, I know how much you love working for the magazine. I would hate to jeopardise that.”

“Well, I might find something that I enjoy more than working as your assistant.”

“Such as?”

The smile you give him is soft as you fidget with the creases in his trousers.

“Your wife.”

His own smile is boyish as he teases,

“That is quite the promotion you’re offering yourself.” Then his expression grows more serious. “Even as my wife, I wouldn’t expect you to give up your job - not unless you wanted to.”

That makes your smile widen, your cheeks warming at the casual tone his voice adopts when considering you as his wife.

“Besides,” he adds. “Where would I find someone as capable as you?”

“I could mentor Alina.”

He hums, unconvinced, and you laugh at the sight of his apprehension. It’s sweet, knowing you’ve taken such a root in Aleksander’s life. He trusts you, unconditionally.

“I’m not handing my notice in yet,” you tease him, before adding with a small laugh, “Unless you’re planning on proposing tonight.”

Aleksander doesn’t laugh.

“Sasha?”

The corner of his lips quirk with the hint of a laugh, embarrassment touching at his features.

“I-” He sighs, shaking his head as his smile widens. “You’ve ruined the surprise.”

“Sasha,” you repeat, thoroughly caught off guard. “You’re not serious.”

“Of course I am.”

“Aleksander, I’m not wearing any makeup. I’m in my underwear.”

He doesn’t look impressed by your protests.

“Milaya, if you’re finished making rather obvious statements, I’d like to propose to you.”

The look he gives you has your lips pressing closed, giving him the chance to speak. Almost immediately, your excitement spills over your expression - a giddy smile tugging at your lips. Aleksander smiles fondly, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he admires you.

“I can’t believe you used to hide this from me. My pretty girl.”

“Well, dating the Aleksander Morozov was rather daunting at first,” you admit bashfully. He tilts his head at you.

“And do you think you can marry the Aleksander Morozov?”

Being married to Aleksander will attract attention - the kind that you’re unused to. The entire world will have something to say about you - what you wear, how you act - it will all be scrutinised by the tabloids and the social media comments. But he’s worth it, a million times over.

“I will if he actually asks me,” you remark teasingly.

He breathes out a laugh, kissing your cheek.

“Let me fetch the ring.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

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#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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cherry-leclerc · 1 year ago

Text

fucked-up little thrill ☆ cl16

genre: pwp but also porn with plot (the best of both worlds!), humor, she truly is a maneater in disguiseee

word count: 8.3K

There’s a difference between warning and danger - you happen to be both. Though, Charles only sees the green light, go. Well, we can all imagine how this will already go.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+...oral (m and f receiving), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, riding, slight cry, unprotected sex

inspired by this and this !

“She’ll mess with your head, man. You’re going to wish she had never looked your way.”

“I told my mom about her. Crap, I bought her an engagement ring after a few days of knowing her.”

“Four words: Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“Do you know how fucked in the head you have to be in order to willingly go after her? Fucking pathetic. Sure, I did the same, but hear me out-”

Despite the warnings, he didn’t pay them any attention. He thought he was going crazy for sure when he saw two guys on their knees, begging: Run, just do it. And whatever you do, don’t look back.

Charles wasn’t even listening.

The nights were beginning to get warmer, yet there was still a slight breeze. Spring was rolling in. What an innocent season to meet the wildest card Charles has ever dealt.

“...then she laughed so hard that, Jesus Mary and Joseph, my heart went bananas! Y’know what I did next? I asked her, ‘You want a slice?’ I meant the tiramisu, guys! She thought I was talking about myself! T’was the most embarrassing thing. Made me look like a bloody narcissist.” Lando whined as he leaned onto the table to hide his face.

George snorts. “Ah don’t worry mate, I would gladly take a slice.” Lando groans, further rubbing his forehead onto the table. So much so, that it began to squeak.

“Alright, calm down before you shed your skin off. It wasn’t that bad.” Alex voices, as he pops a curly fry into his mouth.

“Easy for you to say! You basically have the person you’re going to get married to! You’re safe.” The Brit pouts. He then lifts his head up and wipes away a single tear. Everyone explodes into laughter.

“Muppet, c’mon we were kidding! Weren’t we just fooling around, Charles?” Carlos wiggles his eyebrows at the Monegasque. Charles rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yes, of course we were joking,” he starts. Lando looks up, seemingly feeling better as everyone began to agree. We were just playing around!

“Then again, how did you even fall for a girl like that?” Charles finishes his sentence.

“Argh. You don’t get itttt,” Lando wails in defeat. “When you meet a girl like that, you don’t question it. You just thank God for sending her your way and then BAM! She just walks out of your life.”

Hm - Charles thinks to himself as he takes a sip of Martini - naive, naive little Lando.

Charles met you that same night he was out for dinner with the boys. He was waiting for his car from the valet; shooting Joris a quick text.

"Sorry," he overhears a soft voice, but still didn’t pay much attention.

"Sorry? You’re sorry? We both know goddamn well that you’re sorry about nothing. Nada. Zeeerrrooo," a man's voice angrily shouts back, voice slurring.

Charles turns and sees a man running his hands through his blonde hair, walking back and forth in despair. Then, his eyes move to find you.

Standing tall in the tightest, shortest, black dress he's ever seen. So, the little black dress truly does exist. Glowy skin shining through from the lights decorating the outside of the restaurant. Your legs appear miles long, feet paired with your nicest set of heels, Joli Queen Glitter. Red fucking bottoms. Christian Louboutin at its finest. Rich jewelry sits on your wrists, fingers, and neck.

Even with all that in the way, all he notices is just how drop-dead gorgeous you are. Suddenly, his fingers get clammy. What the hell? His jaw was clenched. Literally, why? His pants were growing tight because oh God he was already har- Alright, now that’s just crazy, Charles. Get it together.

“Yes. Whether you believe me or not, I’m sorry. Maybe you just shouldn’t have set high expectations,” you spoke, looking down.

“Are you being fucking serious right now? You’re smiling? You think this is funny! Oh God, what the fuck is wrong with you, you crazyyyy bitch!” The man continues, sharply pointing his finger at you accusingly. He genuinely looks like he’s about to start crying for his mommy.

“Okay mate, I think that’s enough. Why don’t I call you a cab?” Charles speaks up from where he’s standing. You and the mysterious guy turn to look at him.

You shoot a smile as the man's eye starts twitching.

“Oh great! Great, great, great,” the man chants. “What an idiotic thing to believe that you hadn't gotten rid of me already! How could I not see it coming?” He drops to his knees and starts rocking back and forth. “On my dead hamster's birthday!” Levi, Charles later finds out, cries out to the sky. “Couldn’t this have happened any other day?” Charles cringes. “Call me that shitty ass cab, dude.”

So, you stand close by as Charles helps plop Levi inside with the help of the cab driver. They buckle him up and off they go.

Not before Levi pokes his out the window. “I swear I’m not being bitter when I tell you to fucking save yourself!”

Both of you are left there standing quietly. You pout your red lips as you pull out your phone to call a cab for yourself.

“Need a lift?”

Glancing around silently, you sneak a look at Charles. Handsome, you ponder, just a tiny bit. Outrageous lie. You quickly scold yourself for being so untruthful. This man was the most beautiful kind you’ve seen in your entire life.

“Take it that was your boyfriend back there?” He taps his fingers against the wheel.

“Mmm. Hardly. No, he isn’t - wasn’t - my boyfriend by any means. Some guys just instantly assume stuff over any girl that pays them any ounce of attention.” You lazily trace shapes onto your thigh. You tug your dress down a bit, licking your lips. “Thanks for helping me out back there. It was really sweet.”

He notices the way you never look up from your lap as you’re speaking. It’s kind of endearing, just how soft you can be. “Don’t mention it…it was…no problem.”

He walks you from his car to your house. It's small, pastel yellow with a mailbox that reads; No more love letters. Seriously. “Cute,” he comments. You blush.

“Oh, that. Sorry, I live with my two best friends and they wrote that as a joke,” you ramble as you click your heel shyly. “They said it would help out with my, and I quote, ‘secret admirers.’” You let out a tired laugh as you finally build up the courage to look at the man standing right in front of you.

“To be honest, that makes sense.” He tilts his head a bit, analyzing your eyes. “Beautiful girls should receive beautiful letters.”

Tongue tied, you stare back with a pleased smile.

“This is so unlike me, but would you like to go out some time?”

Easiest question ever asked.

A few nights later, he finally decides it would be a good day to take you out to dinner. Testing went well and the car was finally on the right track. He took this as a good omen.

“How long have you lived in Italy now?” you quiz, as you bring your Shirley Temple closer to your lips.

“Oh, um, for quite a while now. I mean it’s really only for work. I go home any chance I get.”

“Sweet. Where are you from?”

“Monaco.”

Your eyes grow wide with excitement. “Really! Monaco is so beautiful!” Your childlike squeal makes him smile brightly.

“Have you ever been?” You sadly shake your head, hair bouncing back and forth. Soft floral fills the air.

“Nope, but I wish to one day. I just know I’ll love it so much…” You trail off. “It’s just that growing up my favorite movie was Monte Carlo. Would beg my mom to play it any chance I could.” Maroon coats your cheekbones. He furrows his dark brows in confusion.

“Monte Carlo? You know, starring Selena Gomez?” His soft features pinch together. “...Leighton Meester? Katie Cassidy?” You desperatelyspit your words, trying to assist. He continues shaking his head. Never heard of it.

Your mood grows sulky as you pout. Leaning back, you finally take a sip of your drink. Oh, well now I really want something stronger than this.

“I would love to watch it some time though!” Charles tries as his voice cracks. He winces.

“Sure!” Though, you're not looking at him anymore. Your eyes are trained behind him. He’s about to turn around and ask if you’re fine, when you finally speak up. “I think I’ll go to the bar for another drink. Be right back!” He huffs.

You weren’t back for almost too long. Finally, deciding to go look for you, he stands and takes long strides all around the dark restaurant. When he finds you he sees you’re not alone.

A man in an all black suit seems to be your new company. You giggle as he appears to slide some type of business card to you. Just as you're about to grab it Charles strolls over to you both.

“Is your drink finally ready?” he asks as he wraps a protective arm around your waist. You flinch. You hadn’t even seen him walk over.

“Charles!” you shriek, as you crumble the piece of paper into the palm of your hard, hurriedly. You pray that he hadn’t noticed, but he had. Something inside of him told him not to ask. “I was actually on my way back. Did you need anything? A drink?” you ask, furrowing your brows attentively.

“No, thank you, amour,” Charles warmly replies, looking into your glossy eyes. You truly were the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“My apologies for getting in the way.” The man extends his hand out to Charles. “Aiden Quinn, pleasure to meet you.”

Charles may be upset that Aiden ruined his date, but he wasn’t keen on being rude, so begrudgingly, he shook his hand. “Charles Leclerc.” See, normally Charles isn’t the type to throw his name out like that expectantly, but he felt as if he had a point to make. He did, though. I was here first.

The man grins ear to ear, nodding. “Yes, that’s where I know you from. I knew you looked familiar. Formula 1 driver, right? Ferrari?” He points with a knowing smile.

“Scuderia’s number one driver, yes.” His grip around your waist stays secure. Meanwhile, your eyes are open to their fullest. Surprisingly, you had no idea.

“Certainly. I’m one of the team's ambassadors, actually,” Aiden challenges. Charles clenches his jaw. “When you have million dollar businesses all around the world, you try to find a place to help. Ferrari really needs it at the moment.” You’re equally as shocked with Aiden as you are with Charles.

“Well then, I’ll make sure to dedicate my next podium to you I suppose." You shift uncomfortably. This reminds him you’re there. With him. Ha! Take that, Quinn! “Anyhow, I would love to chit chat with fellow fans, but I must say we have to get going.” He holds your hand firmly as he leads you out.

“Goodbye, Aiden!” you beam as you depart ways.

“Formula 1 driver now, is it?” you curiously ask as you look over where he has one hand over the steering wheel and running the other calmly through his hair.

“Thought you knew.”

“I had no clue! Zip!” you shriek as fling your arms through the air. He laughs as he pulls into an abandoned parking lot.

“In the mood for something sweet?”

“Grazie mille,” the Monegasque says as he's handed cones of freshly made gelato. Smiling, he makes his way back to you. Hands you per requested raspberry, as he keeps his lemon one.

“Molto gentile.” You inspect and nod your head in approval. Just hearing your tongue curl in Italian has him swooning. You take a lick and release a soft moan. “So sweet. Best I’ve ever had,” you declare as you continue enjoying your treat innocently.

Charles gulps, trying to cool down. “I told you it was the best.” He shoots a wink over to Luca, the owner, for keeping the shop open for a few more minutes.

“You scared me a bit back there.”

“Pfft. With that Aiden guy…I’m sorry about that–”

“God no. Honestly, I completely forgot about that,” you mutter. “I meant with that whole, ‘In the mood for something sweet?’. Thought you were like the rest.”

The 25 year old keeps quiet for a minute. He gathers his thoughts before settling with, “I promise I’m not.”

“Keeping my fingers crossed you aren’t.” You look around with twinkling eyes. “You know, a date I once had asked me-”

You want a slice?

No.

“It shocked me how straight forward he was being. It wasn’t even our second date! I barely even knew the guy.” You frown at the memory. “Then he blamed it on the tiramisu.”

I meant the tiramisu, guys!

God no.

“Never saw him again,” you finish as you finally focus back on him. A pale Charles is all you find.

“Woah, are you okay?”

“Yes! I’m so good! You look lovely! Did I mention it already cause if I didn’t then call me the worst date ever!” He begins nervously laughing. His gelato dripping all over his arm.

“I think you did.” You smile as you hand him a few napkins. He returns the gesture, thanking you. “And don’t worry about it, leave that spot for Lando. Now he might take the crown.”

Charles let out a groan.

Charles went back and forth deciding whether he should reach out to you. He liked you. A lot. Nonetheless, he was hesitating because he just couldn’t do something like that to Lando. The Brit was as bummed out as one could get. So, it's settled. Bye bye baby.

“Of course. Tonight at 8,” your voice confirms on the other side of the line. Charles celebrates with a quick dance.

“See you then.”

He decides today that he wants to switch things up. Do something that would make him stand out from anyone that came before him.

“Monaco?” Leaning on the hood of Charles' car, you feel you have to be dreaming. He nods his head lively.

“I could show you around, y’know be your personal tour guide.”

“You should have warned me! I don’t have anything ready!” you yelp as you hold your hands over your heart, frantically. He would be more worried if it weren’t for you smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“We still have time. Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

When you make it to Monaco you’re greeted by a young guy wearing glasses, driving a Ferrari Pista. Charles and him fit in a quick embrace before they turn their attention back to you.

“Ah yes, this is Joris. He’s one of my closest friends,” Charles states as you warmly reach for a handshake.

Reciprocating, Joris says, “Very nice to meet you.” You smile, returning the greeting. “Must say, you are just as beautiful as Cha had mentioned, if not more.” You blush as Charles clears his throat awkwardly.

“D'accord, mec. Pas besoin de le dire au monde entier,” Charles mutters. “Thank you for picking us up.” Joris nods, carrying your luggages. You share a quick goodbye before he finally makes his way to another car. “That’s also one of my very good friends, Marta.” You smile and wave as they drive off.

Monaco definitely met your expectations. Everything just captivated your attention so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started to drool.

“Holy shit. Your home is absolutely stunning!” you gasp. He wheels your bags in as he exhales.

“Merci. Make yourself at home.”

Thankfully, the flight was quick so you both have plenty of energy to go out for a late night snack. He takes you to his; Favorite place in the world! You’ll see.

A little stand sits in the corner of the street.

“Lou makes one of the best crepes. Trust me, I’ve been a loyal customer since my school days.”

A little old lady is attending to customers, but stops as soon as she spots Charles. “Charlie! Chérie, je ne savais pas que tu étais de retour!” She makes her way around to hug him.

“Des projets de dernière minute, mais j'ai juste envie de manger une de tes incroyables crêpes,” he replies, as they pull away.

“And who is this pretty girl?” she questions as she looks at you, standing there patiently.

“Oop, hello. I’m a friend of Charles.” Lou smiles teasingly.

“Charlie, tu es là pour me dire que tu vas te marier?” Lou suddenly looks over the moon.

“Non!” he quickly shouts, so suddenly, you and Lou both jump a bit. Tight lipped, he apologizes.

“Like she said, we’re just friends."

The next morning after breakfast he recommends you bring something you can swim with. Skipping your way to his room, which he is kindly sacrificing for you, you roam through your luggage until you find a baby blue bikini.

“You don’t get sea sick by any means, right?” He looks over at you with scrunched brows underneath a pair of glossy black Ray Bans. You shake your head.

“Great.”

You make your way to a tiny boat before he helps you settle in. You grab his hand softly as you step into it. A single touch of electricity seems to link your fingertips. It catches you both so off guard that he lets go of you so swiftly, you don’t even notice as you plunge into the water.

You let out a quick yelp before you go underwater and his hands fly to his head in embarrassment. You resurface with wet hair covering your face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” he apologizes before extending his arm out for you to grab. Pushing your hair out of your face, you giggle.

“It’s okay, I got it.”

Once you independently get on the boat, he unties the rope off the deck and takes a seat himself to drive you both to the unknown destination.

“Pretty please, can I know now where we’re going?” you squeal with puppy eyes.

Lord help me, he thinks before replying. “We’re going to a little island I love. Îles de Lérins.” You look ahead, nodding patiently. “It’s beautiful, you’ll see.”

When you arrive it’s easy to understand that there doesn’t seem to be that many people. You basically have the place to yourselves.

He helps you off, not dropping you this time. There’s a small trail you both begin to take. It’s something peaceful, the moment you’re in. You almost wish to fit it into a snow globe.

“My parents would always bring my brothers and I here all the time during summer when we were younger,” Charles confesses.

“You have brothers?”

He turns to look at you, then continues ahead. “Yes. Two.” He kicks a rock out of his way, but something you didn’t know was just how clumsy this man child could be.

“Ouch!” you groan in pain as your hand flies up to your nose.

“Jesus! What’s wrong with me today? Are you okay? I’m so sorry!” He runs to you all panicky now.

You take it back. Break the goddamn snow globe.

You try tilting your head back to ease the blood pouring out your nose before he gently grips your face to gain your attention. You scrunch your eyes, sun suddenly blinding you. Quickly, he takes off his glasses and places them over your eyes. As you open them you notice he’s shirtless. He places his shirt on your nose to clean you up. You flinch a bit.

Instantly, you’re thankful for the sunglasses because wondering eyes were all you could give him. His lean muscles were just begging to be praised.

You shake your head before taking the Puma shirt from him. “Thanks,” you mutter as you focus on a nearby tree. “Starting to think you might hate me or something.”

“Of course not... I could never hate you!” His voice cracks in nervousness. You snicker.

After a bit more wiping, you are as good as new. You both decide to take a dip while the water feels good. You strip from your Levi shorts and t-shirt. Dipping a toe to test the temperature, you shoot him two thumbs up.

The ocean feels so fresh and silky against your skin. You can’t seem to remember the last time you’ve enjoyed someone’s company like this, even if they almost ruled you to the ends of Earth. Two fingers press against your neck. You spring one eye open and you see Charles biting down on his thumb. He relaxes.

“Sorry, I thought you crossed the line to the afterlife.”

You tread water to stretch your legs out. “I’m fine.”

He takes this time to note things he hadn’t paid attention to before. Like how your lashes pin against your skin since they’re wet. Or how a tiny bit of freckles are sprinkled on your nose. He curses himself for not having seen it any sooner. Pretty was an understatement. You were extraordinary.

A few hours later you guys are back at his house sharing a pizza. Pepperoni, you both loved a classic.

“There’s no bruise,” he points out almost proudly. You shoot a playful scowl. He walks over to the T.V. and clicks the remote. “Monte Carlo?”

He loved it, the way you said he would. He especially enjoyed watching how much you loved it.

“This movie was too ahead of its time,” you confirm as you dig your feet under the blanket you had curled into.

“Well at least Grace and Theo got their happily ever after,” he pronounces. You shoot an impressed look. “What? I was listening.” You crawl up next to him and pat his cheek. His dimples pop out from how hard he’s smiling.

He can’t help it the moment he reaches to cradle your face to press your lips together. He can’t help but let a moan slip out when you finally kiss him back.

Finally, he picks you up to adjust you on his lap, which you comfortably settle into. You feel him underneath you so clearly you can’t help but move your hips. He feels so good.

The heated moment continues as he wraps his hands around the curve of your ass. You pull away as your lips move down to his neck. He almost gasps the moment you lick down his throat. It doesn’t help that you’ve been keeping your hips in motion.

He almost passes out the moment your lips move to his ear and ask, no, beg; Let me taste you, please. How could he ever deny such offer?

Making your way down to your knees, he adjusts himself on the couch. He thinks to himself that if he were standing he would’ve made a fool out of himself because just the sight of you in front of him has him choking on his own breath. You just look so pretty.

You tug his shorts down, along with his boxers, and bite down on your lip as you grab his cock, softly. He has to stop himself from jerking into your hand. Precum sprouting from his tip. You can’t wait as you take kitten licks. Fuck, he whimpers. The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your thighs together.

Wrapping your lips around him, your hands reach to balance yourself against his thighs. You moan at the feeling of having him inside your mouth, drooling all over his lap.

This itself, is too much for Charles and thinks he’ll barely even be able to survive as his head turns against the couch' pillow with closed lids. You start bobbing your head and one hand flings down to jerk off what you can’t reach. He groans at the feeling.

You start off slow but suddenly start picking up your pace. He opens his eyes, dazed, to catch a glimpse of you on your knees and this sight is something he won’t be able to forget even if he tried. With glassy eyes, you look up at him. You make a show of releasing your lips from his cock as you lap your tongue along it. Before going back at it, you twirl your tongue a couple of times around his tip before giving it a quick suck, then deep throat him.

He grits his teeth as if to help deal with any of this but when you start toying with yourself he lets out the loudest whine he’s ever produced. You look up smiling, grazing your teeth lightly along him and he hisses at the feeling. Proudly, you fit him back into your mouth.

“God, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he manages to get out before you solely start jerking him off.

“What about my hands?” you seductively tease. The sounds coming from both your hands and his cock should be considered a sin itself. He groans as he looks back to make eye contact with you.

“Your hands too, baby.”

He knows he’s close the moment you twist your wrist perfectly. So so good. You know he’s close when he begins to twitch underneath your fingertips.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” he chants as you continue your dirty movements. He makes sure to look at you, focused, eyes drawn to his cock.

“Cum for me, Charles,” you coo as he finally bucks his hips into your hands and hot cum shoots all over your face. You wickedly smile as your lips reach his cock to continue swallowing the rest that is being released. He grabs you face to pull you off him and hauls you once again onto his lap. He’s about to kiss you before you pull away and point at the mess on your face.

You wipe two fingers along your face and bring them to your mouth to clean them off. A pop is released when you let go. He shudders.

This is the moment, Charles realizes, he’s so screwed.

When you make it back to Italy you realize that all you’ll have are a few fleeting moments together. With Charles going back to racing and you continuing your online classes, you’re both bound to be booked.

Though, Charles just isn’t ready to let you go. And a fucked up man will make fucked up choices when due.

So, he strings you along with him to the Miami GP. He realizes there’s a strong chance you might bump shoulders with Lando, but to be completely honest, he was past caring. He was completely smitten with you.

You wear your white summer dress as you are sprawled on his hotel bed. You’re a mess.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper as Charles fingers slip in and out of you. He’s feverishly kissing down the side of your thighs, bites left in between. You groan in slight pain as you tug on his soft hair. This man has brought out the moon and stars, for you.

“C’mon baby, look at me,” he whispers as he paints you with hickeys in between your legs. Somewhere no one else will ever be able to catch a glimpse of. You nod your head as you look down to find him gripping your dress over your thighs, eating you out like a starved man. You shut your eyes as you release a few soft pants, the heels of your feet press deeper against his Ferrari polo.

“Open you’re eyes.”

You shake your head. You wish you could look at him, you really wanted to, but it’s just too much take in. You wanted to make this last.

But Charles was greedy. He wanted to taste you. He stops everything all at once. You let out a cry. Fuck him.

You bring your arms around his neck, loosely, as he kisses your shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

“You weren’t looking at me.”

With all your strength you open your glittered eyelids.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos as he picks you up and sits you at the edge of the bed. You look down at him confused as he gets on his knees in front of you.

“If you can’t look at me, then you’re going to have to look at yourself,” he directs as he begins to push your dress back up your waist. You lean against your elbows as you realize what other than Charles is in front of you.

A shiny glass mirror.

With a slightly open mouth you’re about to protest before Charles picks up right where he left off. He spits on your clit before rubbing it. You bite down on your bottom lip so hard, you draw blood.

“Don’t tell me I have to get you to moan now?” Charles stares at you with furrowed brows. You shake your head no before he kisses your knee. “Good.”

He makes sure you look straight at your reflection before he curls his fingers inside of you. You mewl at the touch. Your legs beg to bring him closer.

He lets out a light chuckle before repeating his motion. With sleepy eyes, you stare at the way your legs rest against his shoulders. You had painted your nails bloody mary a few nights before, in support of him and his team. Your face all fucked up singly by Charles’ long fingers and delicate touch, red lipstick all over your mouth from how heavy your make out with Charles had been.

To him, you looked like an angel.

You squeal as he presses his nose against your pussy. You grind against his face. He pulls away and you whine, looking at him desperately.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he reassures you as he moves up to kiss your cheek and then your pouty lips.

“Cha, please,” you beg hopelessly. He grins as he pushes your hair out of your face and runs his thumb across your lips trying to clean you up a bit.

You take a chance and wrap your lips around his finger, and you begin to suck. Expertly, you swirl your tongue. Eyes look back at him, almost challenging. He lets out a strained groan.

With all the willpower he has left, he removes his finger from your mouth. Nicely wet, he presses it back where you needed him the most.

“Thank you, baby, you shouldn’t have.” You cry out at the sudden size of his thumb now being inside of you. He switches out his thumb for his middle and ring finger. You throw your head back. All the back and forth almost has you blacking out a few times. Charles gives you a quick peck, fingers building speed, as he pulls your dress down a bit to release your plump tits.

Now he’s at a loss for words. Quickly, he regains his composure and starts sucking on your left nipple, legs squeezing around his waist as a reflex. One hand flies to the back of his head as one makes its way to cup his cheek adoringly.

He moans against you, sucking hard before moving his attention to your right nipple. The way you’re wailing against him has him painfully hard against his jeans.

“Yes, God yes right there, Charlie,” you let out as you grind against his hand. He detaches his lips from your chest as he smiles up at you.

“I’m right here, baby. Cum for me, yeah?” You let out the most pornographic moan as you finish around his hand. Tears make their way down your cheeks. Cleans his fingers, he shuts his eyes satisfied, before he towers over your body, pressing kisses all over.

You giggle. “That tickles." The 25 year old’s heart doubles in size at the sound of your fucked out voice.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up before the race?”

The race results weren't the best Charles has had, that’s for sure. Head hung, he makes his way to his motorhome. There he finds you on the tiny little bed, curled up, watching the rest of the ongoing interviews. As soon as you notice him you jump up to your feet and walk to him.

It's almost as if you knew how down he was feeling when you wrap your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. He instantly feels better as his arms swaddle over your shoulders, chin atop your pretty hair.

“You did good,” you mumble. You press a faint kiss on his suit before looking up.

“I fucked up. I got P7.”

You frown at him before holding his face between your soft palms. “P7 is good, what do you mean?” He just shakes his head. “You’ve never heard of seven being a lucky number?”

He scoffs, but not at you, never you. More at himself. “Lucky?”

You pull away and sit back on his bed. “Oh yeah, seven bring all the luck in the world!” you squeal, as you plop on the bed. He laughs lightly as he lies beside you.

“Guess I’ll just take your word for it.” He hums with his eyes closed.

You turn on your side as you try to memorize his face. Like the small mole that sits on the left side of his face that makes him even more handsome, if anyone asks for your opinion. You scold yourself for not having noticed it before. As if to fix things, you name it one of your favorite things about him.

“You should. Things will get better, you’ll see.”

For once, he really believes it.

You both are walking out of the Ferrari home when you're suddenly stopped by someone calling Charles’ name.

“Hey, Charles! Great race man!” A familiar voice rings through the air before you both have a chance to turn around. Both you and Charles, unknowingly of one another, want to make a run for it.

“Thanks, Lando,” Charles replies as he prays he might not notice you. But a girl as beautiful as you can’t go forgotten.

“Holy shit it’s you!” Lando wails as he instantly recognizes you from dinner a few months ago. You cringe. What the chances?

“Hi,” you squeak as you hide behind Charles a bit. You had no idea Lando was a Formula 1 driver too. You ought to do your research better next time.

“Mate! This is the chick I was telling you about over dinner last time!” Lando says, eyes almost popping out of his face from the shock he’s in.

“You don’t sayyyy.” Charles tries to hide it, though inside he’s freaking out as if he’s broken every FIA rule in the book.

“Hey, I want to say sorry for that night, I should have been more clear,” Lando begins to spill his apologies, as all you can do is silently stand there, accepting them all.

“Of course. Long forgotten,” you comfort the Brit. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy.

“Charles, I’ll wait for you outside, alright?” you utter as he nods. Once you walk out, he turns to Lando frantically.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was the same girl you were upset about!” he tells him. Liar. “You must be mad at me and I get it-”

“Nope.”

Charles stares back, caught off guard by Lando’s response.

“You’re not?”

Lando rolls his eyes. “I’m not. I just hope you realize what she’s capable of.” He leans in closer to Charles’ ear and Charles leans in too, expectantly. “I’ve heard stories, man…”

Charles immediately pulls away. “Okay, we’re done here. Bye mate!”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

But Charles knew you better. He saw the way you looked at him. The way you felt. You were different. Fuck your following reputation.

“Ready?”

When you got back from Miami, something had shifted. He couldn’t quite name the moment it had, but he was sure of it. He didn’t care though. He would put up with just about anything as long as that meant having you around.

“And then he told me to test the car again, said it was fixed. Fixed my ass!” Charles tells you over FaceTime. You were sitting in your bedroom, painting nonsense on a canvas. You wore some old overalls with loose space buns. Strands of hair would hit the paint from how messy it was.

“No way,” you say, not looking up. Charles smiles fondly.

“You look lovely by the way.” Though, you don’t seem to catch his affirmation for you. Your eyes are focused on something out of frame, in front of you. A quick smirk appears on your face but slips so fast that he almost begins to think he’s imagined it.

“Thank you, Charles,” you reply with a much bigger smile now. “Hey, how about I meet you at your house at 9? I’ll cook you a nice meal, promise.”

Like always, he knows he shouldn’t ask and also knows he can’t say no to you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

That night when you step into his house he notices things he wishes weren’t there. Like how your hair was a tad bit messy or how there were light bruises on your neck. He knows those didn’t come from him. He’d always been mindful to mark you in places no one else could admire, just him. Something bugs him knowing someone has seen them already.

“I’m so sorry I’m late." You rush in with bags from the nearby market, the one just around the corner from his flat.

“No worries. So, what will we be cooking, my little chef?”

That night you seem so infatuated by him, he truly thinks this all was his imagination. Maybe the wind blew your hair on your way here; he should have offered to pick you up. Maybe he forgot he had also marked your neck; he’ll make sure to be more careful next time.

He wraps his arms around your waist as you cut pieces of basil. Giggling, you turn around to peck his lips. Craving more from you, he lifts you up onto the kitchen island. He stands in between your legs as you stare up at him, ever a vixen.

As you lock lips, he picks you up, you yelp all giddy. He makes his way over to his bedroom, your lips lingering on his neck, he almost drops you from how good it feels.

“Careful, don’t need another wack in the face,” you mumble from his neck, light spirited. He rolls his eyes at your comment, but yeah, he should probably focus.

Finally reaching his room, he kicks the door open so hard, it flies and instantly makes a hole through the wall. You gasp as he groans.

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” he murmurs as he takes you to his bed where he drops you. You giggle as your hair covers your face, he makes his way to hover over you and brush it away.

“You know I would do anything for you?” he asks, tenderness lacing his voice.

You stare back at him with bright and eager eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

He smiles as he leans down to kiss you and you instantly melt into the mattress beneath you. He kisses you so fast, so hot, that it has you feeling lightheaded. I’ve been kissed before but never, ever, like this, you think as he slips his tongue as a quick trick. You moan with pleasure. He smiles into the kiss.

He picks his head up to get a good look at the angel the universe had ever so nicely sent his way. He caresses you gingerly. “Are you sure, chérie?”

You nod up and down eagerly, ready for more he’s willing to give. You are so desperate you would gladly take anything as long as it's from him. A flash of sadness strikes your face before it’s replaced with a warm smile.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he comforts you as he begins to take a step back. You quickly hold onto his veiny arm.

“I want to,” you confirm. You bring him back to you as you kiss him for the millionth time that night. Even that would never be enough.

His hands make their way to slip your dress off. Once you're left in your matching lingerie, you push him on his back and straddle him.

“Holy shit,” he nervously laughs as you started to unbutton his linen shirt. He pulls his arm out as you sloppily brush your lips down his smooth chest, fingers tracing his firm abs. Then, as you’re about to pull his pants down, he grabs your hands firmly. You glance at him, confusion written all over your face.

“Ladies first,” he teases. You roll your eyes, but still slip out a quick, okay, before settling under him once again. He kisses down your neck gently as you hum out, finding peace with his lips hovering your body. Every new kiss he places on your soft skin makes you feel thousands of butterflies. You’d never experienced something like this before, you’ve never felt so flawless.

Clumsy fingers roam your back as he unclips your bra then strips you from your panties. Seeing you completely bare has his dumbstruck. This is something he could easily get used to.

His hands make their way to squeeze your tits, your head digs deeper into the mattress as you release a soft whimpers. Charles grows harder by the second, already getting rid of the rest of his clothes as quickly as he can.

He tugs you closer to him by your legs. A laugh rolls past your lips. Resting both arms by either side of your head, he pushes into you. Synchronously, you both let out a moan. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he grips onto the sheets.

You feel so tight around him that it takes all of him not to lose control. You throw your arm over your face, face scrunched.

Putting his feelings aside, Charles leans down and plants a kiss on your arm. “C’mon baby, not again. Look at me.”

“I can’t…,” you cry out weakly, “...too big.”

“You just have to adjust,” he reassures you as he begins to move in and out of you. Your arms fly up to his neck and you grab on tight, as if he’s keeping you ashore. You moan loudly.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers as he thrusts deep inside of you. Your velvety walls feel like home to him and he never wants to leave.

You squirm when his cock hits your sweet spot. You yell into the nothingness and your grip on his hair tightens so much, he groans at the sensation. His hips pick up speed, and suddenly, he’s kissing you again. You whine into his lips, needy for more. Harder.

As if he could read your mind, that's exactly what he does. Your lips form a silent O as you stare at him with eyebrows drawn together. He just feel so fucking good.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, voice deep. You shiver at the sound. “God, you feel so good, you’re doing so good,” he praises you as he now looks into your eyes. You wail in response, too fucked up to form any kind of sentence.

“I love you so much,” he announces so suddenly, you almost push him away. He keeps moving rapidly as he makes out with you eagerly.

As you kiss him back you realize something scary; you love Charles Leclerc. You think you’ve loved him for a while now, but having never been in love, you didn’t seem to notice the feeling. But you do now.

“I love you, too,” you murmur against his lips. When he pulls away you notice you’ve never seen him smile so big. You like being the reason behind it.

He immediately pounds into you harder, not holding back anymore and you’re both a mess. You moan so loud, you’re almost embarrassed but Charles seems to love it.

“If you love me,” he pants, “then tell me his name.”

He continues normally, but you swear you feel your heart stop. There’s no way.

“What are you talking about?” you manage to spit out, but the way he’s handling your body has you seeing stars.

“Please,” a desperate look flashes across his face, “just tell me his name.” His watch covered hand makes its way to your clit and he pushes his finger against it. God, his fingers are so-

“There’s no one.” Liar. “There’s just you.”

With that, you flip him over so now you’re on top of him. Hastily, you start to ride him, making sure to move your hips just the way he likes it. His head falls back against the bed frame as his fingers dig into your hips. You bite your swollen lips in slight pain, but also, just by looking at his current state.

Cheeks slightly pink with sweaty hair covering his face. Long disheveled hair that you pressed him not to trim quite yet. What a sight for sore eyes.

“Please,” he chokes out, “just tell me his name and I swear I’ll never bring it up again.” He opens his eyes to look up at you. His voice hitches when he sees you hopping on his dick, tits bouncing up and down. You throw your head back and circle your hips much harder.

“Fuck.” Charles gasps as he reaches up to attach his lips to your chest. He licks before softly biting down against your bud. You exhale sharply. He then lays back and holds onto your hips harder before helping you move on top of him. Wrapped around him, the motion between both of you picks up so fast you start shaking your head no.

“Yes, amour, say it. Please just tell me before I lose my fucking mind,” he grunts as he stares down at your juices as they make the filthiest sound against his own.

“I swear Charles, I promise, that I have never loved anyone the way I do you,” you confess as you sink your nails against his chest, red marks instantly mapping themselves down.

“Beautiful fucking liar.” Charles smirks as he moves his fingers against your clit rapidly. With that, your walls clench around him as you cum so hard around him he can’t help but follow. You moan loudly as you fall against his chest as he groans lowly.

Trying to even your breathing, you grab onto his hand. Instantly, he brings it up against his lips. Just the touch of his makes you want to ride him until you can’t no more.

You meant what you said that night. Though you both should have known better. Being naive can’t always last forever.

“Then she left a note saying it’s best we just remain friends,” Charles reveals a few nights later over dinner. Everyone shares glances of empathy to the distraught Monegasque. Even Lando.

“It’s alright man, you’ll be over her before you know it,” Lando states as he shares a knowing smile. Charles bites down on his tongue knowing all this pent of anger wasn’t towards Lando. Not even for you.

He would like to say that he learned his lesson and that he should have listened to everyone, all the warning signs that glowed above his head. But he knows damn well he would do it all over again if given the chance. He would say, do anything, to change your mind. To make you stay, but people like you never settled.

Moping, Charles changes the topic as he begins asking how everyone’s break was. He didn’t really care, but he tried to pretend.

Out of breath, Oscar rushes over to the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he sits down in between Lando and Charles.

“No worries, mate, Charles was just filling us in on his expired love life,” Daniel fills in, nonchalantly. Charles immediately shoots a dry frown. Daniel shares an apologetic shrug.

“Oh. That sucks man,” the young Australian replies as he gulps down some water. “Speaking of love lives, you guys won’t believe it! I just met the prettiest girl of my entire life just now outside of the restaurant!”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine

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blingblong55 · 10 months ago

Text

Happiness-Simon "Ghost" Riley

photo credits: @ave661

Part 1

---- F!Reader, angst, divorce, ex-husband!Simon, dad!Simon, happy ending ----

A/N: I owe it to heal you so...here it is, second/final part

It's been two years. Two years of missing his laugh, the warm blanket he would cover you in, the little whispers when he was sick and you were there to baby him. If you see him pass his new girlfriend, you see yourself kissing him. Does she whisper sweet nothings when he is anxious? Does she make herself a fool just to see him smile? There is happiness after him, yes but there was happiness because of him. Happiness, what a cruel world.

"Where is Daddy taking you?" "Daddy wants to surprise…" your son says her name and each time you hear it, your heart and mind block her. "…so he is taking us to the park," your son is so innocent.

By noon, the girl that you swear you're kind to arrives holding his hand. "Ready, buddy?" Simon asks and carries his son. Why must they look like a perfect family? Did you and him ever look like that?

"Bye mummy!" your son waving as he walks out with his father. "Bye, sweets," you fake that smile.

As the door closes again, there it is, that funny feeling and all you can do is drink wine and look at old photos. That white dress, the same one he swore vows to, the same one you wore as you two danced in an empty kitchen. Sleepwalk by Santo and Johnny played as he whispered how in this life, you were his person. If only then your heart knew the lie those words held.

You tried to move on, but every guy that you talked to or were set up with was compared to him. No smiley face after the text? Simon would do it. The new date didn't hold your hand when crossing the street? Simon made sure to hold it and went past that, Simon parked close to the restaurant, just so your heels wouldn't hurt you.

Dirty dancing in crowded kitchens, whispers during dinner with friends and kisses that felt like renaissance paintings, that is what Simon gave you and now, he gives it to her.

"Marry me, marry me for all I've got and I swear this world is yours, my world and heart are all yours," his desperation presents. "I'll marry you if you marry me," you smile and he laughs. His strong arms wrap around you as he spins you around the room. "Oh my love," he says when he kisses you.

Ten at night, Simon and your son at the door, "We're home!" your son runs to hug you and you smile, hugging him back.

A flashback runs to you.

It's a secret ceremony, two people, one backyard, two rings and two vows. "I always asked myself why me? I met you in a crowded street, a busy lane and there you were. Two years of understanding you, all your problems, all the nightmares, understanding that heart of yours and….here I am. I swear on all I've got that no one will ever replace you, no one can." You wipe tears away as you read. "I have no idea what the future holds, I'm a mess and…you love me. It must be a curse to love me and you bit the apple. You're a mess, I love you and it's a blessing to love you, I'll kiss you to wake you up."

In those pale brown eyes of his, Simon finds tears that run down. "I want to be the girl you always dreamed of and every day, that's what I'll try to be." ---

"Mummy?"

"Huh, oh yeah. How was it?" You ask Simon. "Not long enough," he kisses your cheek as he walks inside. "Where is she?" "Home, I dropped her off." He answers and walks upstairs. Simon Riley, the same man who has you looking for all the poisoned apples, waiting to give that kiss his lips need.

Eleven at night, little one asleep, Simon hugging you goodbye and as he pulls away, you keep him there. "Don't leave, I'm tired of playing strong," you whisper and his heart shatters.

Was this not what you wanted? He forced himself to love someone new and yet, you were there, begging with those eyes of yours for him to listen to the silence of pleas. Those big arms of his, wrapping you in a blanket of home.

"…I broke up with her, that's why she didn't come with us," he confesses and in that moment, that tunnel with the light at the end appears again. "What?" you pull away and he nods. "I can't love her like I do you. I feel like I'm cheatin' on her each time my mind wanders to you. I compare her to you. She doesn't make me laugh, she can't do it."

"Simon-"

"It's not like I dated her for long and she understood, that and she also wants her ex-husband back," he laughs at the irony.

"I'm not asking that you take me back, that all goes back to how it was before but what I am asking is that you give me Friday at 6 pm, dinner at our favourite place, on me." There it is, that smile of his. His dimples show when he sees your eyes go wide.

"I don't know-" "Dinner on Friday, 6 pm and I swear you'll love me until we are old and grey," a young Simon Riley once told you. You were just 23 and he 26. Looking at it now, it's funny how life works. Date nights, always at the same shitty restaurant you both grew to love, always a Friday at 6 pm, always tulips, always a kiss on your hand because he loved how you blushed.

He hated change, he hated how he never saw himself celebrate your 12th anniversary and he hated how he missed you dancing in the kitchen, that white dress on you and how he kissed your body on every anniversary since the first time he called you his wife.

Traditions, those never seem to end.

2 years later, one secret renewal of vows, one backyard, two rings, two vows and three hearts, four if you included that baby girl in your belly.

Simon Joseph Riley and the obvious beauty of his missus R/N Riley. Spring, flowers, the giggles from your son and the warm laughter of your husband and you serving lunch with that big belly of yours. "Boys!" you call out.

He bit the apple, you kissed the poisoned lips and now live in a dream with the perfect little family.

Tags: @insert-some-username-you-like @pricesugarwife @sagebarness @bunnyharp @liyanahelena @ghostslillady @sagebarness @unicorngirly1 @bbyfimmie @alilttlemischiefmaker @aethelwyneleigh27 @pokiona @trgraves-valx1f0r @ryosuku @undercover-smutlover @polios04 @insanitia @thychuvaluswife @josephquinnschesthair @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rvivienner @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita

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luna-loveboop · 10 months ago

Text

Currently obsessed with the idea that the boys go to Time for love advice, since "he's married so he knows this stuff right?"

I mean they couldn't recognize a wedding ring??? And neither did he???

And time was saying this in his youth I mean cmon

Twilight: So ancestor. What would you do if like. Malon left to another world and never came back

Time: ... bro Malon called me fairy boy and then we were married like what

Hyrule: So uhh old man. How does one. Meet a girl.

Time: By speaking to her I guess? Or not, Malon did the talking for me

Hyrule: riiiiight...

Wild *no tact*: Hey so like... what if your redheaded wife who's name started with M died.

Time: what?!?!

Wild, undeterred: but like before she proposed.

Time: ...

Wild: and you don't remember if you would have said yes. What's your advice for dealing with that?

Time: ... vent to a fairy?

Warriors: hey old man

Time: no no no not this one asking me please

Warriors: how do I get women to stop coming after me. So I can ya know. Choose without war trying to force me into relationships

Time: I can safely say I've never had that problem captain

Wars: of course not *smirks*

Wars: ok but seriously how do I make them go away

Time: ... wear a wedding ring so they think you're taken, I've got a shiny extra

Time: no no why- they won't stop, I don't know how to do love!

Time: ok well at least I have legend. That kid would never ask for advice, I'll sit by him.

Legend: so old man.

Time, looking forward to a normal conversation: yeah?

Legend: hypothetically, what would you do if you found out Malon didn't exist.

Legend: And her whole world didn't, but it did, and now it doesn't

Time: ...Excuse me for a minute.

Time, writing a letter as fast as he can: MALON HOW DO I GIVE LOVE ADVICE THEY THINK IM WISE

Malon: lol

Happy Valentine's Day guys, have a headcanon :P

The boys go to Time for love advice and Time spouts whatever wise-sounding bs he can, before shoving them all on Malon for therapy when they visit the ranch

Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse! :D

#I'm just??? we have like three different times they went to him with love problems? guys he grew up in a forest raised by a tree #he proposed with a cosplay ring #Malon laughs her head off when he says they're going to him for advice #'babe I had to force you into understanding marriage'#'give me the boys I'll talk to them'#to the boys: 'listen Links don't stop going to him for love advice. ask about the most wierd traumatic shit you've been through'#'cook record his reactions this'll be hilarious'#'he's seemed wise...' 'he don't know shit kids he's quoting me'#Lu time #lu #linked universe #linkeduniverse #little did he know legend was the worst of them all #wars wears the glittery engagement ring he recommended with pride 'sorry I'm taken ladies in case you missed the sparkle'#technically Valentine's Day was 43 minutes ago but shhhh it's ok time doesn't know what love is either #I do not have several of the games or complete information #if I said something incorrect (or offensive ever) let me know :)#love you guys #:)

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 10 months ago

Note

can you make a fic about yan!fboyjk and yan!cheaterjk for me? i don’t have a specific plot in my mind so you can do anything to your liking :))

Pairing | cheater!fboy!yan!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 4.242

Warnings | +18, talk about marriage and cheating, smut, dubcon, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (f. receiving), Jungkook is sweet but also scary, angst, forced relationship, manipulation

Yandere genre is very strong, if you don't like it, don't read. If you are not of age, don't read. I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You want to leave Jungkook, but he is not of the same opinion, It doesn't matter if he did wrong, you are his.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Thank you for the request! I hope you like the story, please ask me for more stories, I am happy to write for you 🥰

You and Jungkook have been always sure about your future, you would get married and live happily ever after like in the most beautiful fairy tale. So why are you crying? Why do you refuse to take your eyes off that scene? Your brain refuses to recognize those angelic features that had caught you in a dense network of colorful, sparkling dreams as a child. That cannot be the same man who swore to you in front of all your relatives eternal love, with a ring in his hand and a wonderful, sweet smile drawn on his lips. Yet who can it be but Jungkook, the man who at that moment holds in his arms a woman unknown to you? You went to the gym to surprise your boyfriend, he had been disappearing for hours for some time under the guise of training for the wedding, he wanted to keep in shape to be perfect for you… just for you. But there he is, at the entrance of the gym whispering something in the ear of the blond-haired woman, who in return smiles cheekily at his joke, running a hand over his strong, trained chest. They seem very close, there is definitely confidence between them. You finally look away, feeling incredibly wrong, and take a step back, then another and another.

You start running in the opposite direction, all to forget that scene, to forget Jungkook's smug eyes staring at a woman who is not you. When you get home you feel incredibly weak, you sit almost collapsing on the bed, in your brain a bunch of ideas start swirling around in your head, ideas that block your breath in your throat. It's not even the first time it's happened, you realize, it's happened before that you've noticed something strange in your relationship, but you've never given it any credence. You don't want to think anymore. Forget, forget, forget.

"Smells good, love," the man leaves a sweet kiss on your neck, pressing his soft lips to caress your skin, "Is my girl getting ready to spoil me yet?" Jungkook holds you tightly in his arms, practically purring against your body. You find yourself smiling between his cuddles, continuing to stir the meat stew simmering in the pot. "You're just saying that because you're hungry," you chuckle gently. You found yourself shaking like a leaf in anxiety for days, believing that sooner or later Jungkook would come to you to tell you that he was leaving you for another woman, but none of that happened, Jungkook is still the same, showering you with attention and adoring you, and still wanting to marry you. Perhaps you had misunderstood the situation, that blond woman must be a friend and you jumped to conclusions, you should have asked Jungkook for explanations, but you still feel something holding you back from doing so. It is fear, a deep and treacherous fear.

"I say this because you are too good to me," he whispers seriously, causing you to turn toward him. His serious eyes chain yours and you feel lost, watching the wonder of that glittering obsidian staring at you encompassing you with possession, Jungkook licks his lips, the rosy soft tip furrowing those inviting petals before he moves closer to you, the electricity between your bodies bursting into lightning bolts as your lips meet, softly joining in an adoring kiss full of dominance. Somehow Jungkook manages to turn off the stove behind you, grabbing your head in a grip that forces you to deepen the kiss under the pressure of his hot tongue pressing repeatedly on your lips to demand access to your mouth. In each touch of Jungkook you lose yourself, accepting the force with which he takes your lips moaning and grabbing a few wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His tongue entwines with yours creating a wet and sensual dance, feeling him slow and hot inside your mouth turns you on in an incredible way. His taste is dope and Jungkook thinks the same of yours, sucking your tongue like delicious candy and smiling. It is always like that, if he wants something, he takes it. And you at that moment happily offer him your body, your feelings and your soul. They are all his.

He grips your hips in his hands, pressing you against his hot body, he needs you and with trembling legs you leave him in charge, he takes you to the couch where he makes you lie down leaving behind a trail of light, soft kisses along your jaw and neck, he stares at you now with half-closed eyes, the man finds himself thinking that you probably don't know how much you are actually giving him. With your clothes now on the floor and your panties lowered to your knees you let your head fall back, clenching your lower lip between your teeth, gentle waves of pleasure envelop your body, Jungkook with one hand travels up your belly to stop at your breasts, which he squeezes possessively as he wraps his tongue around your swollen clitoris, licking and sucking it repeatedly before poking your soggy slit with his fingertips, entering it only slightly, just enough to let your sweet essence out and lick it away with his tongue and enjoy the taste of you that has always driven him wild. You're getting closer and closer to your first orgasm, and you know it won't be the only one; you squeeze his head between your soft, smooth thighs, but he forces you to stay still by pushing his palms on your delicate skin, continuing to eat away at your quivering folds until a wonderful, satisfying sensation grips your belly and explodes into millions of tiny stars behind your closed eyelids.

"Jungkook! S-stop!" you shake your hips trying to make him stop and he stops only after sucking your sensitive pearl against his palate one last time. Kissing your folds and moving up your skin he stops at your belly, licking slowly down to your navel and you shudder still shaken from your orgasm, he only begins to remove his pants and boxers once he reaches your breasts, where he breathes in the scent of your soft skin and takes a delicate nipple in his mouth, attaching it and beginning to caress it with the tip of his tongue, sending delicious shivers throughout your body. "Open those beautiful legs for me, sweetheart," he gives you two light pats on the knee and makes you spread your legs wide, satiating his hungry, smug eyes. He loves the power you let him wield over you. You lick your lips at the sight of his straining, cum-shiny cock, wanting to taste it, to feel that length filling your mouth and leaving you breathless, but Jungkook pushes you back against the couch firmly, shaking his head amusedly. "Later, love," he murmurs finally taking off the tight t-shirt he is wearing, you find yourself gazing at his defined and gorgeous abs with the driest of throats, he doesn't let you touch him to your disappointment, you want to caress his chest, play with his sensitive nipples, but with a firm, hard kiss he guides himself between your legs, sinuously sliding into your wet entrance with his thick, hard cock, you widen your eyes and a deep moan leaves your throat. Your sensitive folds vibrate delightedly with each of his slow, firm lunges, your arms wrap around his neck and your hips move with his, in the room you can only hear the sounds of your bodies coming together and your wheezing moans, Jungkook grunts in your ear something after a particularly hard thrust and your eyes narrow, the thick tip of his cock is hitting a particularly sensitive spot that makes more moisture gush from your pussy.

"Jungkook, I'm coming again," you whimper softly inhaling his scent, the man nods as he continues to press into that sensitive area, and you move his hair behind his ear before leaving a kiss on one side of his neck. Then something makes you miss a beat. You hadn't noticed it before because it was hidden by his rather long hair, but just below his ear is a mark. It looks like a mark- a hickey -the color is tending toward purple and your heartstrings tug painfully.

You drive your nails into his shoulders with frost enveloping your limbs, you don't want to look any further, tears accumulate in the corners of your eyes and Jungkook blames your oncoming climax, he kisses them drying them with his lips and that gesture makes you scream internally, why is he so sweet and attentive? It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. With his free hand he reaches down between your bodies beginning to circle with his thumb around your clit, his pelvis moves faster, he is coming, soon he would fill you with his cum and for the first time ever you find yourself faking an orgasm with Jungkook, your delicate walls tighten around his cock, accompanying him to the end of his pleasure, but you feel nothing more. Jungkook collapses on top of you, kissing your forehead and cheeks, then finishing with your lips, but your heart is shattered. The man you love does not actually love you. "I love you, Y/N," he says, a lie you are no longer willing to believe.

There was always something wrong with the attention Jungkook was getting at school, you often attended the same classes and you always got the evil eyes of the other girls on you, you had even tried to ask the boy why, but he had always explained that they were simply jealous of your relationship and you were not supposed to pay attention to them. And you had believed him, after all, you always believed him. But now you regret giving him all that power.

"Jungkook, do you have another woman?" Your wedding is only a month away, and you can't marry a man who doesn't love you. Jungkook from his side almost chokes on his energy drink, he stares at you as if you had two heads instead of one, you are in the parking lot of his gym, you went to pick him up and you can tell he had recently showered, the ends of his hair are still damp and curled. "Shit, Y/N! Is that something to tell your future husband? We're getting married in exactly one month, heck no! I don't have another woman!" he blurts out seemingly speechless, you tighten your lips in response. "Hey ... Baby, what's going on?" he whispers softly, trying to take your chin between his fingers, but you quickly flinch away from him, who rolls his eyes in response. "What's going on is this, Jungkook," you growl, suddenly lifting some dark locks from his neck, exposing a small but remarkable detail. There are slight bite marks that are healing, you had noticed it a few days before, but you didn't have the courage to point it out, until now.

You're tired, you don't want to put up with such a situation anymore. "Stop teasing me, I hate it when you're so sweet to me, when it's clear that you're having fun behind my back with who knows how many other women!" you shout with glazed eyes, Jungkook immediately losing the confusion etched on his face, finally letting a serious and icy look shine through. "This is not the place to talk about this, Y/N. Let's go home," he hisses, not even trying to deny it one more time. This shocks you deeply. He doesn't seem to care that you finally know the truth. "I really think this is the right place, instead" you don't want to cry, so you hold back your tears by chasing them back, "You lied to me and betrayed me, I don't want to marry a man like you" the disgust in your voice makes him wince, if he thought he was going to solve things by using some bullshit catchphrases, well, he was very wrong. You make to get out of the car, you would have taken a cab rather than be with him again in that cramped and stifling space, you want to vent your emotions in a more secluded place, but Jungkook tightens a hand around your wrist.

"Don't you want to marry a man like me? My love, you may not realize that you have no other choice! We have always been together and we will always be together! You swore it to me more than once and you even did it in front of our parents!" he exclaims fiercely, tightening his grip painfully, you squeeze your eyes shut in pain. "You're hurting me," you murmur terrified by his sudden change. "Well, maybe you deserve it, don't you think?" he asks cruelly. You know Jungkook particularly cares about his parents' judgment, but you didn't think he would go that far to make them happy, so a worse doubt germinates in you. "You never loved me! You only want to be with me because our parents always wanted it that way" you want to vomit, were you really that blind? Jungkook quickly shakes his head, "Of course I love you, even though you're making me angry with this absurd talk of yours." "You don't love me, if you really loved me you wouldn't cheat on me with other women" you find the strength to break free from his grip, your pulse is red and pumping blood quickly. "I-" he freezes, his eyes dark with fury, "You don't understand, you can't blame me alone for all this!"

Jungkook knows he was wrong; in fact, he wouldn't have even wanted to start. But when you got together you were young and you had insisted on losing your virginity only once you had reached adulthood and thus the necessary maturity, you did not want your first time to be driven only by the pure hormonal instincts of two teenagers, and Jungkook had never had the courage to insist, because you seemed quite convinced about your ideas. But he needed what you were unwilling to give him, and so he cheated on you for the first time in a school bathroom after class, and he had hated himself no matter how many more countless times, but the more he got the more he wanted more, and even when you had finally given yourself to him, cheating had become an impossible vice to let go of, and the idea that you would always be left waiting for him was particularly tempting. But now it no longer seems that way; you want to leave, to leave him, and he cannot allow it. "You drove me crazy with your constant 'We're too young' or 'Let's wait a little longer'!" You open your mouth wide in shock, "No, don't blame me! You never told me you were against my ideas, and anyway, that's no reason to betray a person you say you love."

You have to get out of that car, you can't wait a second longer. The situation is worse than you thought, he has been cheating on you since the beginning of your story, you are nauseated. "You disgust me," you say before you open the door, you turn to get out, but suddenly your vision goes black, you feel Jungkook press his hand against your nose and mouth, before wrapping an arm around your neck.

When you wake up you realize you are no longer in the car, but you are not even in your house. The only thing you remember is Jungkook making you faint, then nothingness. You look around and what you see is a small room, the walls are lilac and it's littered with puppets of all kinds and colors, the mirror in front of the single bed you're lying on makes it clear the way you've been dressed. You're wearing a high school uniform and your hands are tied to the headboard, you widen your eyes and try to free yourself by pulling at the fabric used to hold you like that. "You've woken up." Jungkook makes his appearance from the bathroom connected to the small bedroom, he is adjusting his dark blue tie and you also notice his attire, he is dressed in a school uniform just like you. "What does all this mean, is this a joke?" you hiss less than amused, but Jungkook doesn't flinch. "I've come to a conclusion," he says as he approaches the bed, you try to get as far away from him as possible by bringing your free legs to your chest, you don't recognize the man in front of you, "I don't want to cheat on you, ever again."

He seems sincere, but you don't trust him. He has broken your heart too many times to deserve trust from you again. "I don't believe you, you're a liar," you say in fact, Jungkook tightens his lips. "I have my conditions," he says anyway, ignoring your words, "You'll still marry me and we'll make up for all the moments you made us miss," he murmurs dangerously, sitting down on the bed and letting a hand approach your thigh, you become an ice statue instantly, finally understanding the reason behind your uniforms. "You're crazy, I'm not going to marry you and we're not going to get anything back at all, to be honest I haven't had an orgasm with you in weeks, just the thought of a traitor like you touching me makes me lose the will to fuck," you murmur angrily, jerking away from his hand in a stinging manner. Jungkook narrows his eyes into two slits, he wanted to be nice to you, but you just don't understand. He's going to use forceful manners, then. "Why must you force me to hurt you, my love?" You look at him terrified, what does he mean?

"Jungkook, don't do anything you might regret, please." He grips your face hard in his hands, staring at you with those deep, dark pools you've always loved, pinning you in place before snapping a deep kiss. You stubbornly keep your lips tight, but Jungkook bites your lower lip forcing you to scream, his voluptuous tongue immediately making room in your mouth and groaning in protest as he plunders your oral cavity. "You'll change your mind, Y/N, by hook or by crook," he hums in your ear with a veil of amusement shining through his voice-who the hell is this man? Jungkook studies you carefully before running his hands over your hips, you shudder at his touch and his fingers stop above the buttons of your school blouse. "You will have only my body, Jungkook," you say in a colorless voice, trying to escape from that absurd reality, the boy opens your blouse, showing off the lace of your pink bra, he observes the graceful shape of your breasts longingly before returning his gaze to you. "I will have everything of you: soul, heart, body -- everything," he whispers before leaning over you, inhaling your scent straight from your bare skin.

"Where have you taken me?" "Haven't you figured it out yet?" You frown, then finally understand. It is his room from when he was a child, that means-. "We're at your parents' house." Jungkook nods. "Do you remember what happened in this room, Y/N?" Yes, you remember, but you don't want to say it out loud, that would make what Jungkook wants to do real. "You rejected me," he hisses suddenly, ripping your blouse off once and for all, you squeal in fright at his force and widen your eyes. He looks furious, his hands are shaking and his shoulders have stiffened under the weight of his fury, "I wanted you and you walked away! No matter how many times we did it when you made up your mind, you still rejected me and forced me to beg from other girls!" he exclaims, totally delirious before attaching his lips to the visible skin of your breasts, you wriggle trying to push him away, but he is too strong, Jungkook is not there with you. He is lost in his memories and blaming you for his betrayals.

Bitter tears accumulate in the corners of your eyes, it's not your fault. It's not your fault at all, but maybe... maybe if you had been more attentive to his needs, too, you would have been enough for him? When he grabs your pussy from above the fabric of your panties you arch your back against your will, his strong and powerful presence still has its hold on you and you tremble trying to stop yourself, you don't know if you are more scared or excited. "Jungkook-" "Say you're sorry," you widen your eyes. "What?" you gasp, his index finger going under the fabric and circling your slit. "Say you're sorry for rejecting me so many times, say you're sorry for all the times you made me feel like an ugly, worthless little boy!" You shake your head, "I never-" you groan, his index finger penetrating you and gently moving a few inches above your soaked entrance, you stiffen at the flame that suddenly invades your limbs. How does he still do this to you? After weeks spent in total apathy, it is now lighting you up in more ways than one, why?

Then you remember, " I don't want to cheat on you, ever again," are such simple words enough to get your body to react? Your body is corrupted by Jungkook, vibrating under his forbidden touch and practically purring, more moisture gushes from your slit, which widens to envelop the second finger Jungkook adds to his penetration, you are trembling trying not to push your hips against the boy, but it is harder than you thought. "I don't want you," you murmur, shaking your head, Jungkook looking at you firmly, tickling sensitive spots that only he knows and is able to reach. "Say it again as you come on my fingers, my love." An unsettling feeling of warmth swells in your lower abdomen. You deny it once more with your head, trying to stop your trembling legs, but it is too late, your walls tightening around his long, deft fingers, exploding in an orgasm you have longed for. "Why are you doing this to me?" you cry, moving your arms forcefully; Jungkook stops you, preventing you from hurting yourself with the ribbons that bind you.

"I wanted to make you pay for all the times you said no by making me feel like a poor, inexperienced fool," he says clutching your skirt with fingers smeared with your liquid pleasure, "But things got out of hand," he stammers, a stinger reaches your heart and your stomach sinks. You don't want to think about how many times he has devoted himself to another woman's body, it hurts too much. "You never told me about it," your words come out in a breathy voice, you try to hold back the sobs. Jungkook moves on top of you, "We will be happy, Y/N" he kisses your forehead moving between your legs, you feel him unzip his pants and enter you with one thrust, it is easy to enter you, you are completely wet and close your eyes listening to his rough, lustful sighs. His swollen cock moves penetrating you repeatedly, the bed moves under his precise and direct strokes and you squeeze your eyes shut, your clitoris throbbing and quivering seeking more direct stimulation and a sigh escapes your lips when the man presses his pelvis against your pubis, crushing your sensitive pearl while with the tip of his cock he reaches to stimulate a particularly receptive spot, you watch the strands of his hair sticking to your sweat-dampened forehead and his eyes begging you not to leave him.

"Y/N!" he moans your name while squinting, "Y/N!" he pushes harder between your soft walls and pulls with his arms on the ropes that keep you tied to the bed. "Jung-" you bite your tongue, refusing to moan his name, but the boy disagrees and demands that you look at him. "I'm sorry, I'll never cheat on you again, I mean it," he whimpers into your ear, "I only love you, only you," he moans and you find yourself closing your eyes, not wanting to give in, not really wanting to, but... "I'm-I'm sorry...for rejecting you" you stammer, pleasure rising once again and the hope of mending your relationship dancing in your chest, "I'm sorry for making you feel unfit." "The others... I just wanted to prove myself" thus confesses his feeling of inadequacy, you know you shouldn't forgive him anyway, but you love him too much, "But now I realize it's only to you that I have to prove something, forgive me" and so you let yourself be corrupted even in your soul. Just a gesture of your head is enough to allow him to come deeply inside you, your breath quickening as you reach for him clutching him in the deepest part of you, throwing your head back. Moments later he unties the knot that binds you to the bed and kisses your wrists softly, murmuring about how perfect you are for him and that once we were married, all would be forgotten because he only wants you. A tear slides down your cheek.

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 3 months ago

Text

Extra Credit - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

CollegeProfessor!Rafe x CollegeStudent!Reader

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 Fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, pet names, squirting, overstimulation, breeding kink, praise kink, ownership kink, creampie, cum play, older Rafe

📖 College Student Reader is close to a C and decides to ask her gorgeous professor for some extra credit.

✨ This - This is a man. Sure, I’ve been with plenty of boys, but this is divine. I can tell that he knows what he’s doing: how to kiss, how to touch a woman. I need him. All of him. ✨

3.1 k lightly edited (<- mostly smut) I'll be adding part 2 soon :)

“I'm so close to a C,” you grumble, eyes rolling as you hold yet another Econ test between your fingers; D+ scrolled in blood-red ink. “Another fuckin’ D.”

“A D+, actually,” your friend teases, tapping the top.

“Well, would you look at that?" You sass, readjusting yourself from your slumped state, eyes drifting ahead, matching Professor Cameron’s. He represses a smile, running his palm against his lips.

"Do they do extra credit in college?” You whine, leaning into your friend, resting your head on her shoulder as you continue to sulk.

“Professor C? No fuckin’ way; the guy’s a hard ass.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” You look his way again, just missing his eyes. “He looks sweet,” you whisper.

“He’s hot as fuck,” she adds, making your cheeks flush pink. “Is he married? I don’t see a ring.” She studies him a little further, trying to get a better look.

“Why does it matter?” You ask, narrowing your gaze on him.

“Meh. It doesn’t, but it makes it easier. You said you wanted extra credit, sunshine.” She wiggles her eyebrows, elbowing you playfully.

“Just tell me what you’re getting at,” you huff. “Class is almost over, and I need to figure this shit out.”

“Jesus Christ, babe. You want extra credit. He's not married. And he already looks at you like he wants to devour you.”

“Eat me?”

“If that’s what you’re into, or you could suck him off, I suppose," she giggles as you let out a little gasp. ”Ugh… Stop clutching your pearls. If he was lookin’ at me like that, he’d be blowin’ my back out every day of the week.“

”So, you really think he likes me?“ Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you turn in his direction. He’s not looking at me…

"Just give it a second," your friend breathes.

Professor Cameron thumbs through the remaining stack of tests, handing another small pile to his teacher’s assistant before snagging his school bag and coffee cup. Your stomach floods with butterflies as he matches your gaze, walking toward the lecture hall steps.

”Just fucking do it,“ she groans. ”Even if you don’t get the extra credit, at least you’ll get somethin’ out of it.“

"Something?”

“Dick… Seriously. What the fuck, girl?"

"Stop bein’ mean,” you whine. ‘What if he doesn’t want me?“

”Sure,“ she laughs.

You walk down the hallway, heading toward the faculty offices. Wandering slowly as you skim the name plaques, searching for his.

Professor Rafe Cameron

Rafe? You bite back a nervous smile. I’ve never met a "Rafe” before. You lift your fist, giving the door a soft knock.

“Come in," he calls from behind it. You twist the handle; Rafe’s blue eye expands slightly, along with his smile. It quickly fades. Maybe he doesn’t want me here. Maybe I need to go.

”I’m sorry. I… Well, I didn’t make an appointment,“ you babble, twirling your hair nervously.

"No - No. It’s alright,” he assures, the corners of his lips curling as he says the words. “Take a seat. Please.” He gestures to the leather chair across from his large desk. You walk over taking a seat, smoothing your little skirt before matching his eyes. He addresses you by Miss, surprising you when he uses your last name, falling from his lips with ease. You’re taken aback, frazzled at the moment that he knows you by name, out of a lecture hall full of students.

I’m clearly not an exceptional student. There are students with perfect scores in my class. Maybe he’s just thoughtful. Maybe he remembers everyone’s names.

“Are you alright?" He asks as he leans back in his chair slightly, adjusting in his seat.

"Umm… Just a little nervous," you let out a flighty laugh as he gives you his full attention.

"I don’t bite," he smiles, crossing his arm across his broad chest. You watch as his linen shirt stretches across his strong arms. You study him a little more, taking in his features. You’ve never gotten to see him this close: perfectly quaffed locks, just the right amount of stubble on his chiseled jaw. He’s loosened his tie since you saw him last, Rafe’s top button drawn open as well, a peek of a gold chain matching his ring-adorned fingers. He guides your attention back to his eyes, using your first name this time, making your heart race.

"So, is there anything I can help you with?” He asks you again with a softer tone, just trying to pull any sort of answer out of you.

“Sorry… Umm. I’m not doing very well in your class. I just - I’m not used to doing so poorly.” His eyes soften on yours as you continue to spin your sob story. “I seem to do well on my papers, but, I do really bad on my tests.”

His lips tug to the side, brows knitting tight. “Well, that’s because I grade your papers,” he hums as he turns his swivel chair toward his computer, pulling up the gradebook. “My T.A. is on a little bit of a power trip this semester. And it does not help that you’re stunning. Think someone’s a little jealous,” he chuckles. You feel heat spread across your cheeks as you take in his compliment. “We’ll see if we can work something out.”

Professor Cameron matches your smile, lingering a little while before returning to his screen. “Alright…” He takes a deep breath, squinting slightly before taking out some black glasses. “Let’s see what we’re workin’ with.” He scans the numbers, writing down a few things on a little Post-It note. “So it looks like lesson 5, 6, and 8 tests were all D’s.” You nod your head in acknowledgment. “Well, you can retake these if you’d like. And, I can regrade them for you; skip the middleman.”

“Really?” You bubble.

“'Course,” he breathes. “There’s no reason those tests should be that low given what you know. I’m very impressed with your written work.”

“Yeah?” You expel a sigh of relief.

“Yeah… I would bet that you could finish the course with at least a B.”

“Wow, Professor Cameron. Thank you so much. At least… So, I could maybe get an A?” You smile, sweetening your tone, just playing around, doing your best to lighten the mood.

“Maybe,” he chuckles, relaxing back in his chair. “I don’t see why not. And we can always talk about extra credit if you’d like.”

“Extra credit? That would be really nice, Professor Cameron.” Your eyes fall to his thigh; two thick fingers moving ever so slightly, tracing the sleek black material, making your mind wander as you think about what he could do with his hands, if he was rough or gentle. He looks like he’d be rough.

“Yeah, extra credit,” he hums; you follow his gaze, eyes lost in your cleavage, hidden slightly by your oversized jean jacket.

“What can I do for you, Professor Cameron," the words leave your lips before you can think them through. "F-For extra credit, that is," you recover quickly your cheeks shifting from a pretty blush to a deep red hue.

He fights off a smile, rapping his ringed finger against the wood desk a few times."Whatever you’re comfortable with," he breathes. Rafe raises his hand, brushing away his smile just as he did in the classroom. This time, more of a smirk.

Whatever I’m comfortable with… He wants me to? Maybe?

Grabbing your jean jacket, you pull it off your shoulders, exposing your pink top, black lace peeking out."I’ll do whatever it takes to get an "A,” Professor Cameron.“

"You will, now?” he sighs, sinking in his seat slightly, widening his thighs, making himself a little more comfortable. “You sure about that?”

“Mhmm," you breathe as you lean in closer, giving him a better view of your breasts. He lets out a sinful laugh, loosening his tie a little more than before, his icy blue eyes darkening along with yours.

”And, you’d do anything it takes to get that “A." Huh?" He mumbles as you work the satin straps over your shoulders, letting it fall around your waist.

"Anything.”

“Shit," he draws out the word, snatching his glasses off his face before rising in his seat. He’s tall, far taller from this angle, towering over you as he walks around the desk, designer dress shoes shuffling along the floor.

"Are you married, Professor Cameron?”

“Nah… I’m not. I’m single. And, you can call me Rafe if you’d like," he rasps, pawing his tie the rest of the way off. ”Are you single? Anyone taking care of you.“

"Just me," you whisper, your innocent eyes set on his.

"Just me. Huh?" He echoes. You nod as he grips the armrests of your swivel chair, towing you closer. "These boys not cuttin’ it for you, princess?" You shake your head 'no’. You can see the print of Rafe’s long, thick cock; pressing against his slacks. "I’m gonna take care of you." He takes hold of your chin with a heavy hand.

"Okay, Ra-” He steals your words, claiming your lips against his. Rafe catches your moan in his mouth, answering with his own. You let out a little gasp as he lifts you to your feet, bringing you closer. The two of you work on what little clothing remains between sloppy kisses, tearing it off each other’s bodies until all that’s left are his black boxer briefs.

Rafe groans as his rough fingers glide down your smooth skin, tracing the small of your waist, massaging and pressing your breasts together as his eyes roll back. He lifts you effortlessly, taking you into his strong arms. You hold on tight as Rafe swipes his palm across the desk, making the items tumble to the floor. He lays you on top, lips barely losing contact, kissing you roughly.

Your hands drift down his chest, journeying lower and lower. You rake your hands back up, feeling his muscles, resting on his chest, feeling his heart pound underneath. You dig your nails into his skin, making him hiss out a breath.

You feel the chill of his rings against your hot skin as he squeezes your tits, shoving them together. “Jesus fuck, baby girl,” he mutters, locking down on your nipple, swirling and flicking, leaving you a whimpering mess. “You look good… So fuckin’ good,” he groans, running two thick fingers between your thighs, skimming your slit. “How are you so wet?” He growls.

You take in his scent, rich and delicious, amplified by the warmth of his bare skin. You reach for him desperately, pulling him to your lips as he rocks into you, thrusting languidly, stroking your aching pussy with his clothed cock. His gold chain sways, with each roll of his hips brushing against your cleavage.

“Please,” you whimper, desperate for more.

“Want me to eat your pussy, angel? Hmm? Bend you over my desk?”

“Yes, Rafe. Fuck," you whimper.

He lowers himself between your legs, looping his arms under your thighs, pulling you toward his face. Rafe spreads your legs, kissing you deeply, marking you in a way that’ll surely leave a bruise, teasing you as his digits slip closer. You take a grip on his sandy-blonde hair, pulling him nearer as you buck your hips, craving more friction between the two of you. Rafe breathes warmly against your clit, making you melt into the table.

"Rafe-" You beg, your words turning into a breathy cry as he plunges his tongue deeply, drawing out slowly, licking a line to your clit that has your body quaking. He sucks your bud, releasing you with a pop. Doing it again and again, leaving your thighs trembling uncontrollably. He brushes his tongue side to side on your clit, making your vision blur.

Rafe slings your legs over his broad shoulders, working deeper than before. You grip the edge of the desk; teeth clenched, muscles firing hot as you hold back your cries of pleasure. ”Cum for me...“ He grunts, driving his fingers into you as you nod rapidly.

"Y-Yeah,” you shudder, chasing your climax as he pounds into your dripping cunt.

“Do it.” Rafe curls his fingers inside of you, tension snapping as you moan his name. “Fuck… Say it again. Say my name again," he groans, looking down at you in a drunken haze as he works you through your orgasm.

"Rafe," you breathe. He slips between your legs, cleaning the mess he made with his tongue.

This - This is a man. Sure, I’ve been with plenty of boys, but this is divine. I can tell that he knows what he’s doing: how to kiss, how to touch a woman. I need him. All of him.

"Tastes so fuckin’ good," he mumbles. "Anything?" He asks again as he tugs at the elastic of his boxers.

"Anything," you mewl.

”Need to be inside you,“ he mutters as he pulls his boxers off his body. ”You want that. Don’t you?“

"Yes.”

He gives you a few experimental thrusts, watching you jolt in your sensitivity every time his rock-hard cock nudges your clit. You look at the slight space between the two of you, letting out a desperate moan, yearning to be filled. Rafe’s long, thick dick curved toward his stomach, glistening with precum, smudging against his tight stomach with each rut.

“Fuck me," you plead.

You let out a gasp as he stuffs his cock in your pussy; hips flush with your ass, balls deep; pushing even further. ”R-Rafe...“ You whimper, tears running down your cheeks as you feel the pressure in your guts.

"Goddamn…" He grunts. ”You’re so fuckin’ tight. Shit - Pussy feels so good.“

”You’re so big,“ you whimper as you press your hand against your tummy.

"You okay? Takin’ me so well…”

“Yeah. M'fine. Feels so fucking good.”

“Been hopin’ you’d walk in my office since the first day I saw you." He brushes your tears away with his thumbs as he kisses your lips, dick buried deep. ”Who woulda thought you be such a slut for your professor. Huh?“

BANG. BANG.

"Hey, Rafe. Are you free?" His colleague yells from outside the door, causing the two of you to freeze. Rafe snares your hips, holding you in place. He draws a finger to his lips, demanding your silence.

"Wanted to see if you could look over something for me.”

Rafe grinds his hips slowly, not wanting to stop, cupping your breast in his hand. He leans down, giving you a soft bite, eyes focused on yours.

“Rafe?” The male tries again, making Rafe roll his eyes in annoyance. You watch as the shadow shifts underneath the door, walking away.

“Fuck, that was close,” he breathes, kissing his way up your stomach. “Come over tonight?”

“You want me to come over to your house?” You whisper as you smile against his lips.

“Need to fuck you in a bed. Want you to ride me. You want that "A.” Yeah?“ He asks, his voice deep and dark.

”Yes, Professor Cameron,“ you smile as you flutter your lashes, your angelic tone contrasting his wicked one entirely.

"You’re a pretty little thing. Fuck. You’re gorgeous," he praises as his swollen tip presses against your entrance, stretching you slightly, making your lips part in a soft "o.” He groans as he nudges himself a little further, rocking into you nice and slow, teasing you with the first few inches and his fat cockhead.

“Rafe… Pl-" Your plea turns into a gasp as he pushes himself inside, bottoming you out completely. Your back arches off the desk, nipples grazing his chest.

Rafe thrusts at a rapid pace, skin striking skin. Knocking you deep in your core. "Such a good girl f'me," he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough thrust leaving you trembling.

You let out a moan that has him rushing to silence you, sealing your mouth with his broad palm, each muffled sound more fucked out than the last.

"You’re killin’ me," he mutters against your neck. "Gonna let you be real loud tonight. Alright? Gotta big fuckin’ house. You can scream as loud as you want." His hand works between your thighs, brushing quickly against your clit; making you dig your nails into his shoulder blades."If I move my hand, are you gonna be a good little whore? Keep that mouth nice and quiet, f'me?”

“Yeah-”

“If you can’t, I can stuff it full for you. Keep you real fuckin’ quiet.”

“N-No. Wanna cum… Fuck, I’m gonna-” His focus falls to the sound of your body gushing, squirting onto his cock and thighs as he continues to pound you into the wooden desk.

Your body clutches him, muscles pulsing. “That’s it, baby. Fuckin’ squeeze me." He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, trying his best to thrust. Rafe doesn’t give you orders, simply forcing you right where he wants you. Gripping your hips, turning you a moment later, lifting your ass in the air as you take a hold of the desk. You look over your shoulder, watching as he winds up to smack your ass. Stopping himself with a smirk and a raspy laugh. ”I’m gonna ruin you tonight.“ His voice sends chills down your spine. Rafe grips your skin tightly, bunching it up in his hand as he coaxes his dick back in.

He ruts his hips deeply, fingertips driving into the fat of your ass as his hips clap against your skin. "Rafe," you blubber, trying your best to steady yourself on whatever you can grab. You can feel his tip kiss your G-spot with each stroke, working incredibly deep.

"Almost there… Want you to cum with me," he groans.

"Let me cum. I can’t-”

“You will…”

“Please-”

“M'gonna cum, baby," he grunts, hand weaving into your hair. He yanks it back, pulling your orgasm out with it, blanketing your mouth as he silences your cries. You flutter wildly around his cock as he fills you to the brim with his climax. Rafe draws out slowly, letting your releases drip from your cunt; rolling down your inner thigh. He grips his cock in his fist, collecting your shared release, swirling his tip around your entrance before stuffing it deep inside again.

"Goddamn," he mumbles. Swiveling his hips slowly, jagged breaths are heard as he continues to move, completely overstimulated but loving the feeling too much to quit. "Mmm… You’re gonna ride me tonight. Bounce on me; tits in fuckin’ face. This wet fuckin’ pussy is mine..." He moans, already desperate for more, as he palms your soft skin.

You reach for air, doing your best to catch your breath, riding a euphoric high. ”Shit… Did I get an A, Professor Cameron?“ You laugh breathily.

"A” fuckin’ plus, princess.“

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357 notes · View notes

mrsackermannx · 11 months ago

Text

chef!sukuna who’s still lower in the rank than he wants to be, but so close to being a sous. tonight is his night to do the night’s special dish, finally. he earned this. he knew that if the head chef just let him, he could create the best dish ever served at this damn place.

so, he does just that.

he’s immediately scolded, the dish uses too many ingredients, the head says. too much to prepare. too ambitious. even though he used all of the left over ingredients from the menu’s usuals. 0% waste, 0% additional cost.

sukuna curses, taking a deeper drag of his cigarette. “make sure no table gets that shit,” he hears, with his fists clenching at his sides. ill go to the gym after this, he thinks, yeah, punch the fuck out of that bag.

it turns out that only table 8 has the dish, your table. the server messed up and now they’re crying in the back to the porter because they’ve been fired on the spot. “i told you not to fucking take it! have you never done expo-“

sukuna stalks calmly to the shaking waiter, “show me table eight-“ he sighs, levelling the head chef with a glare, sukuna was much larger, much stronger than him, difference in rank or not. he stood down, stalking down the other side of the kitchen with a huff. “ignore him, i wanna see who’s eating my dish, come on, let’s go.”

a reassuring pat to the shoulder from sukuna was almost enough to make him cry even more. sukuna kind of hated everyone.

“just there, chef. the couple, bedside the pillar on the left…its um…her, chef.” he grins, watching how transfixed the normally gruff man is, “your girl heh heh.”

“shut up,” he says, but he smiles a little.

he watches you, sat opposite some guy you hardly look interested in, you’re beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, as always, his eyes are drawn to you, no other woman could compare.

he watches you slice through his dish, the fork at your lips, as soon as it reaches your mouth you make a noise of such rapture, a sudden quiet falls upon the floor of the restaurant.

it’s almost weird how heat rushes low at the sight and the sound, he can’t remember the last time anyone else fired him up like this. he never took himself to have any kind of food fetish, either. yet watching you eat his dishes always seems to be an erotic exchange he never anticipates.

“oh…him? think they’re married?”

“i don’t think so.”

that man seems to hiss at you, eyes on his watch, barely touching his dish. “i wanted pizza downtown, god.”

you shake your hand in dismissal, shoving another forkful in your mouth. “i wanted this, i always want this.”

sukuna let’s out a breathy fuck, and the server practically faints.

no one was immune to sukuna’s charm, then, it seemed.

“oh, fuck, table 7 saw me. fuck, chef ive already been fire-“

“go and give them a reason not to fire you. go, go to your table kid, it’s still yours, right?”

the table beside you seems to have called him over, asking for the same dish you seem to believe has came from heaven, telling anybody who asks.

sukuna can’t help but enjoy the lively affair, as the restaurant manager tries to explain over and over to more and more tables that the chef special has been cancelled. oh, how he loved this little bit of chaos.

“why?” your voice clatters through the cacophony like a piece of silverware on crockery. “this dish is phenomenal, the best ive ever eaten here and in this city, in this country-“

“miss-“

“taste it! can you not taste the hard work? the thought? its the best thing ive ever eaten. the chef who made this has impeccable taste and talent.”

your laughter rings through the place at your partners embarrassment. sukuna is about to pry himself away and head back into the kitchen, leaning on the side of the bar and then…your eyes meet, another forkful is waiting before those glossed lips. another sweet sound of joy rings through the air.

now you see him, huh?

your smile is sweeter than agave, “it’s you.”

your words are lost on everyone around you, but to sukuna he hears them as if you whispered them right against his ear.

sukuna was a tall, broad, and unquestionably handsome man, unmissable out of his chef whites, invisible in them, somehow. obscured by the ambient lighting of the restaurant.

you near him, like a moth to a flame, a sensual air to the way your hips flick toward him. “you-“

the head chef storms through to the restaurant floor, the door slamming you both into the corresponding wall. his large arms wrap around you, his hand cups the back of your head.

he slowly retracts his hand, and your chest rises as you resist the urge to press your cheekbone into his palm, “are you okay?”

his voice is deep and addicting, dark and dripping down your throat.

you’re beaming at him, like he’s an angel, like he’s somebody you already adore. he gifts you a lover’s laugh, “you seem to be the only satisfied person in the building tonight.”

“seems like you’ve satisfied me sir.” you wink, still letting his aura press you into the wall, he cages you in with his arms.

“oh?”

“last thursday. that soup, you made it, didn’t you…?”

“sukuna,” he answers for you, “maybe.”

“seafood special last month?”

“yes, and your name?”

for some reason he’s out of breath, you’re so close, so fancy in your silk dress, clad in jewellery that sparkles even under these dimmed lights. “reader, you…you’re a genius.”

“so you came to thank me personally?” he leans closer, swiping sauce from the corner of your lip. it lingers on his thumb, his eyes chase yours as he licks it. “how sweet of you.”

#chef!sukuna #chef sukuna would absolutely ruin and wreck my heart #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #this concept is just in my head i cannot #younger chef sukuna #food critic reader?!!#foodie reader???#now i want to write a whole fic about this

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 11 months ago

Note

Ascent Astarion referring to female Tav/Reader as „Lady Ancunín“ and insists that everyone else (staff, visitors etc) does so as well, even though they‘re not married (yet 😏) but she‘s his.

I'm back baby~

Yas let's romanticize this evil man I'm ready. But don't worry, he's still a terrible person <3 And so are you in this <3

TW: I'm so sorry I don't know how I got here. Murder, violence, a tiny bit of torture. And wtf tav has no last name? Uh, it starts with a c now I guess. Sex is alluded to but it isn't graphic.

"I just don't know why I have to be there," You sighed as the servants opened the doors for the both of you, your arm hooked with Astarion's while you complained, "You know you'll work better if you're not worrying about me all night."

"And how would letting you out of my sight help with my concentration?" Astarion shot back, a frown curling on his lips, "With strangers in our home? Absolutely not."

You barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. Gods, he could be so dramatic. Did he forget who you were?

"Don't you trust me to handle myself?" You asked with a pout, "I didn't always need your protecting, you know."

"Of course I trust you," Astarion sighed as he gave your hand a tight squeeze, "It's the rest of the world I have no faith in."

How on earth were you supposed to argue against that? You weren't quite sure, but you were going to try, "But-"

"No buts," Astarion interrupted curtly, "You're going and that's final. Besides, it's just one night. And we can have as many quiet evenings as you'd like for the rest of the week."

You sighed as you nodded your head, accepting the compromise, "Whatever you say my love."

Astarion smirked down at you, "That's my good girl."

Oh gods, why did he have to go and say that? He was well aware of what that did to you. And now was not the time to have to squeeze your thighs together. You could feel a flush crawl up your neck as you hissed, "I told you not to call me that in public!"

"Did you?" Astarion smirked as he came to a stop in front of a speaking squire, "I don't recall."

He turned his attention to the young man in front of you before you had a chance to respond, "Speak. Did anything happen while we were gone?"

The man shook his head, "No, Master Ancunin."

"Good," Astarion said curtly with a wave of the hand, "You're dismissed."

He nodded, "Thank you Master Ancunin, Misstress C-"

The consonant was barely out of the boy's mouth before Astarion was on him, moving so quickly that it was enough to startle even you. Before you blinked he had him pinned against the wall, a strong arm to his throat as he hissed, "I'm sorry, what did you just call her?"

The servant looked panicked, but at least he had the brains to catch on to his own mistake, "I-Apologies my lord. But since you are not wed I-"

"What we have is higher than the mundanities of marriage," Astarion growled, "You'll address her as Lady Ancunin from now on, if you wish to keep your tongue.

You couldn't help but laugh a bit behind him, more than a bit endeared at the display, "I thought you were saving the dramatics for this evening?"

Astarion ignored you briefly, opting to drop him back to the ground with a cold order, "Get out of my sight."

"Aw poor thing," You cooed as you watched him scramble away. You saddled back up to Astarion's side, linking your arms together with a smile, "Darling you didn't have to terrify him. It was a reasonable mistake."

"I beg to differ," Astarion said lowly, still glaring in the young man's direction, "I should have killed him for that. You're making me too soft."

"Or maybe we should just consider having a wedding?" You said as you leaned your head against his shoulder, "It would save a lot of confusion."

Astarion rolled his eyes, "Obviously we'll be having a wedding darling. But that's not the point. You are mine. With or without a ring. It's best that others learn to respect that now."

"No arguments here," You happily sighed as he led you to your chambers, "Just don't stain anything if you slit someone's throat, okay my love? Blood isn't easy to clean."

Astarion grinned as he pushed you through the door, a familiar glint in his eye as he shut it behind him, "No promises. Though I suppose there are other things we can do to keep my bloodthirst in check. Any ideas?"

You really were such a good girl, especially when the question was more than enough to have you untying the corset back of your dress. A shy smile was already on your lips as you laid back on the bed, your thighs spilling open enticingly, "I think I may have a few."

Astarion grinned as he crawled over you, his fangs already extending in anticipation. This was exactly what he needed. To drink from his precious future bride and have his merry way with her before entertaining a bunch of dullards for the evening.

But he needed to secure these alliances. There weren't many open-and-out vampires operating within the city walls. And the few that remained were valuable enough for him to take interest in, either to work with or to get rid of. Tonight would help him fully realize the distinctions.

And with you by his side, it would be tolerable. Though Astarion had quickly realized after his own turn that vampires had a bad habit of thinking that they were much, much, more interesting than they were.

A fact that he was quickly being reminded of as the night went on. Everything was going according to plan, the guests had arrived, you looked gorgeous and perfect on his arm, and he had a meticulous mask on to seem interested in all the inane conversations he needed to have.

Though this one was especially tedious. A newly risen vampire lord, weeks fresh off of killing his own master. Despite the achievement, he was as dry as a brick wall. But she was interesting. Well... perhaps not him, but certainly the master he had killed was of interest. And he was the only one left living who could possibly know of the woman's secrets.

"It's been an interesting few weeks, to say the least," The man said again, still lost in reliving the death of his own slave master, "I never thought it was possible, but here I am."

You were nodding along, taking the time to do the conversational work Astarion was growing tired of, "It is quite thrilling isn't it? To be free. I'm sure she had many perks of immortality that were lost to you. Hopefully, you're adjusting well."

"I am, and she did. In fact, I found these books, can't read a lick of them but-"

"Perhaps a translator could be of use?" You casually interrupted, "I can always take a look for you."

"That would be lovely-"

"Master Ancunin!" A feminine voice interrupted from behind, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

He turned, his annoyance shifting to interest when he realized who was speaking. Lady Imelel, a high-ranking spawn turned master after the murder of her sister, nearly three-hundred years ago. Done by Cazador's own hand. She had been a consistent thorn in his side since that day, only relenting to meet when she was certain of his murder.

She was beautiful, as expected. With an air of confidence that nearly made Astarion bristle. She was a bit... too comfortable in his presence. Especially when she decided that linking her arm to his was appropriate.

He could feel you stiffen at his side at the display, a fact she remained oblivious to as she spoke, "Gods, there is so much I'd like to discuss with you. Privately if you wouldn't mind."

For anyone else, the obvious display of disrespect towards you would have been an automatic death sentence. But Astarion was conflicted. If anyone was going to be aware of the identities of other unknown vampires in the realm, it would be her. He'd be forced to let it slide for the moment.

Though just because he was agreeing, didn't mean he couldn't make things more clear.

He plastered a tight smile on his face before nodding, "Certainly, just one moment."

He turned to you, his voice dropping a few octaves, "Will you be okay alone for a moment darling? I won't be long."

You nodded, always so, so good at picking up on what he needed, "I'll be fine my love. I'm sure Erwen will keep me plenty entertained."

"Good," He murmured before pressing a deep kiss to your mouth, taking the time to lick inside, just to feel you shudder. Perhaps it was a bit much. It certainly was if the flush to Erwen's face was anything to go by when he pulled away. But Astarion was trying to be fair here. And if Imelel didn't understand the picture after that, he couldn't be held responsible for what could happen to her.

He grinned down at you before pressing one last lingering kiss to your mouth, "I'll be right back."

And then he was off, reluctantly being dragged away by Imelel; who looked particularly offended at the display of affection. It didn't take long for her to make her offense known either.

She took him to the first quiet corner she could find, a frown on her lips as she leaned in, "My dear, I know you're quite new to this but... I would refrain from chaining yourself to one soul so quickly. It truly is a waste.

Ah. It was unfortunate that she was continuing that line of thought. Astarion only had so much patience.

He cocked his head at her, thoroughly amused at the audacity, "Oh? Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean that plaything that you take everywhere with you," She said easily, blissfully unaware of how close he was to ripping out her tongue. She was running a delicate hand down his chest, "You're limiting yourself for no reason. She's a mortal who was lucky enough to catch your eye. And she knows it. She won't be going anywhere if you explore your other options. And even if she did... who cares?"

That sealed it. She would be dying tonight. And if Astarion had any less patience she would have been slain the second she forgot your title. But he had more decorum than that. Or maybe he just wanted to make things personally horrifying, just for her.

He grinned back at her, leaning into her touch despite the way it made his skin crawl, "It sounds like there is an offer buried in your words. Am I right?"

"It could be," She purred, "If you'd be willing to sneak away."

Well wasn't that nice? For her to do the hard work for him. He took her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze before saying, "Go out and mingle my dear, then meet me upstairs in an hour. The second room to the left. And then you can show me exactly what I've been missing."

She smiled, one with too much teeth before sauntering away.

It was almost disgusting, how foolish she was. Astarion could scarcely believe she had survived this long. Though in her meager defense, this was probably going to be the first time that she was rebuffed for her advances. But otherworldly beauty could only take you so far, a harsh lesson that she was about to learn.

Astarion wasted no time in finding you again, politely dragging you away from the conversation. You didn't miss a beat, immediately updating him on everything that was said, "He'll bring the books by for translation. If there's any magic to them I'll be able to extract it and he'll get a.... redacted version. The poor thing really doesn't know what he's doing. But he's far from a threat-"

"That's wonderful my sweet, thank you," Astarion interrupted, his voice lowered, "But I need you to do something else for me. Do you remember those fun little ropes we found a few months back?"

You nodded, "The Cord of Constriction? Or the Lariat of Lethargy?"

"Let's say both. Now go and put them in the guest room for me will you? And then wait in the closet. And don't move a muscle until I say, no matter what you see or hear. Understood?"

"Why on Earth-"

"Darling," Astarion interrupted, an edge coloring his voice, "Don't question me. Just be a good girl and listen. Can you do that?"

Those were the magic words. He licked his lip as he watched a flush crawl up your neck, an adorable pout on your lips, "I-Gods. Fine! Just don't keep me waiting long."

"I won't," Astarion promised with a smile, "I'll see you soon."

He watched you go, excitement brewing in the back of his mind. And he thought tonight was going to be boring. He waited until he saw Imelel start her way up the stairs before following, a slight pep in his step. It was all so easy to manipulate her onto the bed, easier still to convince her of a "fun" little game to tie her to the bed posts.

He leaned back when he was done, a smirk forming as he watched her test her bindings, "I should have known that this would be your type of fun Astarion."

"Yes," Astarion laughed, low and mean, "You should have. Darling, you can come out now. I have a surprise for you."

Right on cue you were popping out of the closet, your eyes widening when you saw the woman tied to the bed. The woman who was slowly panicking as she realized just how strong the ropes she was tied with were.

"This is my surprise?" You asked as you saddled up to him, easily stepping into his open arms, "I assume this is the part where you explain why?"

"Astarion? What on earth are you doing?" Imelel asked quietly, her voice slightly shaking, "I am not someone to be trifled with-"

"I'll be the judge of that," Astarion said quickly before turning his attention back to you, "Darling, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but this creature spoke of you in one of the most disrespectful manners you can imagine. And for that a punishment is due, don't you think?"

"Are you insane?" Imelel screeched, "You won't get away with this!"

But Astarion wasn't listening. He was too busy watching the ways your eyes softened at him. You smiled, "So a powerful vampire mildly insults me, and your solution is murder?"

Astarion grinned, "Naturally."

"Gods, I love you," You sighed before leaning in to peck his lips, "But you'll help me, won't you?"

"Of course darling," Astarion cooed, his hand already reaching for the dagger in his belt, "I'm here to help."

Imelel was still struggling, hard enough to make the Cord of Constriction bite against her skin. Her hand was slowly turning purple from the loss of circulation. She was still screeching too, bellowing about her own importance. Right up until Astarion had the knife to her throat.

"Oh, not so brave now are you?" Astarion chuckled as she finally shut up, "To be clear, you will be dying tonight. For every offense that came out of your mouth in regards to my love. Your body will be used for a display to warn the next audacious shrew. Sound good?"

She was crying now. Good. It was her own fault that she was there to begin with, all because she couldn't keep her big mouth shut.

He turned back to you, "What do you say, darling? Do you want me to do the honors?"

You shook your head before gently taking the knife, taking the time to kiss him on the cheek, "No, I'll do the first cut, and the rest can be yours."

"Whatever you say darling," Astarion sighed, happy to step back and watch you get to work. You really were good with daggers, a skill he admired as he watched you slit her throat. There you were, the light of his life, the master of his heart, the one and only Lady Ancunin. And it was long time the world started to see you as such.

The two of you enjoyed yourselves for as long as you could before there was nothing left of the woman who once was. And Astarion kept to his word.

As a nice end to the evening he dropped her body down the stairs, chuckling at all of the shocked gasps it tore from his audience before he gave his speech, "This, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you disrespect myself or Lady Ancunin in any shape or form. Do with the information as you will. Now please, enjoy your evening."

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #ascended astarion #asks #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #people be dying #astarion ancunin #i'm back~#three more to go #i be trying #murder is involved here #writing exercies #not quite sure how I feel about this one

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torasplanet · 4 months ago

Text

❝𝙈𝙔 𝙇𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏.ᐟ❞

H. SANZU + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; haruchiyo celebrates his sobriety but all he can think about is how you got him here and how badly he wants to put a ring on your finger

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; fluff, smut, drug abuse (mentioned), best wing men haitanis, bonten is a silly organization, proposals, hair-pulling, car sex, p in v, riding, porn w plot ig, love dovey shit, kinda vanilla ngl, this sucks, skin color not mentioned.

marls notes 2 u(*´▽｀*) ; part one!!, for my darling @mdsbabygirl

One.

One year of sobriety. That’s how long Haruchiyo Sanzu has been sober from all drug paraphernalia and they’re also the words that were indented on this little silver chip in his hand. Scarred skin stretches as he smiles looking down at it, how can something be so little yet so important? Claps and words of congratulations and encouragement fill his ears, everyone is proud of him and he’s proud of himself too but all he can think about is you and how proud you probably are of him. Haruchiyo didn’t know it had been a year until he got here but you knew this morning, he didn’t know what you were so smiley about trying to hide it but now he does.

Haruchiyo looks up from the coin and at the group of people standing in front of him smiling. He remembers how much he hated these people when he first got here but pretended like he didn’t make you happy. “So what are you going to do now?” The leader of the group says putting a hand on the pinkette’s shoulder once he stands. He shrugs and his smile gets bigger at his first thought “See my

wife.” A gasp comes from one of the older women there.

“You proposed!?” He makes an awkward laugh as he ruffles his hair. “Not yet…” Haruchiyo had been thinking about the proposal for a long time, but he never really knew what to do. At first, he thought about buying a diamond ring in your favorite color and proposing in the living room but everyone, and I mean everyone, told him that was quite literally one of the worst ways to do it so he didn’t. He didn’t know there were special rules to this but he had to do something that you’d like which is easy but how is he supposed to ask you about the ring if you don't know he’s going to propose? It confused him a lot but it was no problem for him, he had all the money to get whatever ring you wanted in the world. If you wanted him to propose in a new mansion just for you with a 24-karat gold ring, he’d do it but he didn’t know if that was what you wanted. The ring that is, he’s considering the mansion.

Haruchiyo soon found himself in his car driving down the street but not to the apartment you both shared, to bonten hideout. He had a day off, he didn’t need to be there but he needed to talk to the people there. Haruchiyo had never gotten this close to marrying someone so he needed help, Kakucho and Koko were probably the best to ask about this, Kakucho is a sweetheart and a lover boy, and Koko…well he just knows about rings and what girls want. Honestly, Haruchiyo would take any advice with this, he just doesn’t want to fuck this up. You’re the best thing in his life and he doesn’t want this proposal to be wrong. His way of doing it is not enough, the way he thinks you’d like is probably too much. If it were up to him to plan it with you and what you want in mind, he’d already plan the wedding.

“What’s up team, how’s your paperwork?” Haruchiyo said sarcastically, throwing open the doors immediately, getting goose flesh from the temperature here. Everyone looked at him annoyedly, clearly liking it better when he was not here and his annoying sarcastic “It’s your day off, why are you here?” Koko asked combing the ends of his hair out while the Haitanis and Kakucho played cards, everyone else was nowhere to be seen. “Why were you even gone?” Rindou asked briefly looking up from his cards and the pink-haired man grabbed the coin from his pocket and tossed it to Rindou.

The mullet-haired man observed the coin before blinking back up to meet the green eyes, he didn’t have a care in the world. “It’s not real.” Haruchiyo rolled his eyes and scowled “Yeah, no shit but that’s not the point. I’m one year sober.” He said with a sigh, he never thought he would say anything like that.

There was once a time in Haruchiyo’s life when he’d rather die than get sober even for a week and everyone was proud of him even a little bit, of course didn’t show it but still. It was a special moment and he took a day off for it. “What did you come here for again?” Rindou was extremely annoyed at Haruchiyo’s presence as he leaned on the crates everyone sat on. “Well I was thinking of proposing but…I don’t know how she wants me to do it.” The scarred-faced man said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t know if I should be surprised that you’re gonna propose or that you’re not doing it in a garage,” Koko said, still not looking up from his hair. He’s annoyed at the split ends. They weren’t on the best terms right now because Koko was still annoyed about Haruchiyo treating you so badly all of these years. After all, surprisingly, Koko actually likes you. I mean you’re a sweetheart and sometimes bring coffee or food to the hideout when Haruchiyo brings you, what’s not to like? Usually, none of them would care if any guy from here treated a girl badly, not enough to step in or be angry at them but you were different. Everyone liked you to some degree, you weren’t some whore that just let that pinkette slaps you around and treat you like shit; you did stick around after everything he did but you yell at him, you push him away, you leave for days. Most girls haruchiyo have been with let him do whatever the fuck he wants.

Bonten likes that you’re a sweetheart but also doesn’t let anyone run you the fuck over. But mainly they want to see Haruchiyo get yelled at. It’s like a movie for them to see you slapping him and cursing at him.

Haruchiyo rolls his eyes at Koko’s comment before turning to look at Kakucho and the brothers, completely ignoring the other man. “Well, I need you guys to ask her about what she wants for a proposal when she comes here next time.” He says as Rindou throws all the cards on the ground for losing against Kakucho and his brother. While Ran is busy being shouted at for cheating by Rindou, Kakucho decides to answer Haruchiyo.

“Sure, I’m glad you’re finally tying the knot.” The black-haired male said, giving him a nod of approval and making the older man smile. “Wait, does that mean no more trailer trash fights at the club? Aw.” Ran asks to be held by his collar by Rindou who still hasn’t let up with the yelling. Haruchiyo sighs and hops down, he gives the eldest haitani the finger before leaving the way he came in. Ran was annoying but Haruchiyo was grateful that he and Kakucho had agreed to help him, he really wanted to make this as special as possible and make it to suit your specific tastes but he really needed this to be a secret. It’s gonna be as special as possible!

You giggle as Haruchiyo pulls you as close as possible to him while drowning you in kisses, you two hadn’t even lasted a second out of the car before he got clingy. It was so weird but for some reason, your boyfriend had been really clingy; he never wanted to let you go and he always wanted to kiss you. He started staying home from work a lot just to be with you. At first, you began to think that he had done something wrong but he denied it and just wanted to always be around you.

“Come on, stop it! Mikey’s gonna stop me from coming again.” You muttered, pushing him away from you and beginning to walk toward the entrance of the hideout but the green-eyed man couldn’t care less and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “We both know that wasn’t from us hugging.” He whispered into your ear as the two of you walked in, almost everyone was present but only three actually cared about the new people in the room.

“Yeah, we did a lot more than hug.” You muttered walking toward the Haitanis and Kakucho assuming Haruchiyo would follow but he didn’t “Alright, I gotta go talk to Mikey. I’ll be right back, baby.” You didn’t even get a word out before he kissed your cheek and zoomed off to Mikey’s office. Ugh, he had been acting so strange recently but I guess it’s expected with how many days he had taken off nowadays.

A whistle caught your attention and you turned to see Ran gesturing you over to the table he, his brother, and Kakucho had been just talking. Koko sat not at the table but just a bit near counting money as always. “What’s up?” You asked to sit at the table and Ran, as always, smiled evilly. “Nothing just had a question.” Kakucho interrupts before Ran can say something that is too mean, it’s a habit for him.

“Has the psycho proposed to you yet? I mean it’s been…what? Four years since you two started to date?” Rindou asked with the same stupid smile his brother wears and you freeze. What? You had never even thought of these people asking you about marriage between you and haruchiyo! Normally they yell about how they want the worst for him and how they hate him so fucking much; your boyfriend is not very well-liked around here. It seems more like they’re making fun of you more than actually caring about it.

“Uh no, I mean, we haven’t talked about it or anything…” Koko raises an eyebrow at your words and turns to look at you. “So that idiot doesn’t even have an idea of the setting you want for it? Or your ring? Pfft.” Koko said, nearly folding over and laughing at you. You did not like this at all. It felt like you were being put on the spot.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed. “No, like I said, we haven’t talked about it. I don’t even think he’d know what ring I’m talking about anyway.” You said folding your arms across your chest and Ran hummed. “What ring is it?” He asked and you paused. There have been dozens of rings you’d come across over the years that you loved but there was one that you just adored.

“Pure diamond, (f/c) and (shape). I don’t care what brand I just want it to look like that.” You said and Koko took note of this. They got the ring out of you now they need the actual proposal setting. “Boring. You don’t want something like a Darry ring or Brilliance?” Koko asked, pretending to yawn knowing he pisses you off when he does shit like this. In his mind, and quite literally everyone else in this room, the angrier they make you, the less likely you are to figure out why they even care about this.

You shake your head “No, I want that. And I doubt any other girl will get as close to marrying him as me.” That everyone could agree and not necessarily because you were the shit or anything, just because it’s Haruchiyo and no one can stand his bullshit but you. “Well, you can’t have a pretty ring and get proposed in a garage because that’s as classy as you’re getting. The both of you are trailer trash.” Rindou muttered, ignoring that everyone in this room, except Koko, was practically trailer trash when they were younger. You found that ridiculous; if Haruchiyo ever proposed to you, you wouldn’t want it to be in some expensive ass restaurant thousands of feet in the air, something small but sweet.

“I don’t want anything expensive or shit like that. I don’t really care what it is, I just want it to be something that makes it seem like he listens to me y’know? I mean, you probably don’t because none of you have girlfriends.” You said changing your tone halfway remembering who you were talking to. Rindou held a hand up with a raised eyebrow “Woah, I do.” He said and immediately everyone in the room burst into laughter completely forgetting about the talk beforehand. Kakucho hadn’t forgotten though, he was just taking mental notes to tell his pink-haired co-worker about what you had said.

Kakucho is a man of few words but he was already thinking about the words he’d say at the wedding reception. He didn’t show it but he really liked the idea of the two of you getting married. Out of all the years he’s known the Sanzu man, you were the first good thing in his life and he really wanted it to last for Haruchiyo. Kakucho didn’t care much for him but he could admit that his life had been a whole lot worse from before you came into it. Although Haruchiyo had suffered from his addictions throughout the relationship with you, it was the first time he had at least made an effort to get clean, and felt bad when it failed. Kakucho has actually started liking Haruchiyo more nowadays because of your effect. He really liked that and was glad the effect was going to be permanent soon enough.

A few weeks passed and not another word about the proposal was spoken, well to you at least, but Haruchiyo’s clinginess never relaxes until one afternoon. “Babe, I got you something!” He yells bursting into the apartment as you sit in the living room watching foreign shows still in your pajamas (his shirt and panties). You look up at him in your sleepy mess as he rummages through the bag he got before he lifts a dress in the air, it’s not too fancy but not too casual and just your style. “What’s this for?” You question standing and grabbing the dress which just feels expensive under your fingertips.

He grins widely at you and shoves it into your arm “No time to explain sweets. Just get dressed and get as pretty as you want.” Haruchiyo says kissing your cheek before opening the door and leaving out of it as fast as he came in. You stand there confused until the door opens again “Don’t wear heels.” He says again and leaves, once more. This was not strange for your lover, he likes to surprise you but isn’t really good at hiding his excitement but he tries his best by not seeing you much. You would think that you two are going to a club but it’s too early and no heels? An idea of what you two were doing didn’t even pop into your head, he’s random and could do anything right now.

But regardless, you get dressed, do your hair and makeup, and wait for him on the couch and he returns looking just as fancy as you do. Not as fancy, just a casual button-up and slacks, his hair is slicked back with some pomade making you smile, he looks so good. “Aw, you look so good, baby.” You said standing and cupping his cheeks, you kissed his cheeks leaving glossy stains which made him smile childishly. “You look better but we gotta hurry!” Haruchiyo said loudly before dragging you out of the apartment.

You wondered why he’s acting like this, or at least where you two were going because he always acts like this for dates. He’s either in a hurry or can’t let you see his excitement so he’s not around when planning a date especially if it’s a surprise. Of course, a proposal crossed your mind with the Bonten members prodding at you a few weeks ago but it quickly left, you didn’t think Haruchiyo would be planning a proposal at the last minute and he knows his date habits. He most likely would’ve tried to stop doing that and act normal so it couldn’t possibly be that. Where was he taking you this time?

Well you two were not taking a limo, he’s driving the Jeep so you weren’t going anywhere he could get drunk. Haruchiyo was sober from drugs but not alcohol yet, alcohol might’ve been one of the main things that helped him maintain that feeling when he was stressed or at the club. “Where are we going Haru?” You asked as he started the car while he slicked back a stray hair. “A picnic. I remember you saying something about a good spot for a picnic, so I thought that we could do that. Y’know Mikey told me I had a day off and I want to spend it with you.” He said, shrugging his shoulders making you smile at him, he’s such a sweetie.

The whole ride, you talked his ear off not really noticing how he was on the bridge of shitting himself. He was so nervous, I mean what if you said no because of everything he’s done in the past? He wouldn’t blame you but he’d be hurt, he worked so hard to become better for you and he wanted it to last forever. If you said no, he’d fucking lose his mind.

A gasp left your throat when you saw where you two had parked. “Aw, you remembered!” You shouted, staring at the cherry blossom tree on a hill. You two lived in the city so finding especially this big and beautiful was rare. Of course, he remembered, Haruchiyo remembers almost everything you tell him; he just sometimes doesn’t do much with it. “Yeah, I thought it’d be cute for our picnic. Can you take the blanket? I don’t want stains on your dress.” The male asked, opening his car door and you agreed, grabbing the thin plaid blanket, you left the car.

Once you climbed the hill, you laid the blanket out evenly and sat on it waiting for your boyfriend to come up the hill and once he did he had a handful. His hands were full of the picnic basket and other things that couldn’t fit in there that you loved. “Why didn’t you ask for help?” You ask as he sets them down before collapsing on the blanket breathing heavily. “You shouldn’t have to carry anything.” He said completely out of breath making you giggle.

The two of you started your picnic and started to eat but Haruchiyo couldn’t get the idea of you in a wedding dress out of his head. The weight of that perfect ring for you in his pocket was burdening and he wouldn’t be surprised if it fell out because it burned a hole through his slacks. He was trying so hard to not make it obvious that he was proposing but he felt like he had already failed at that. Before he could even sigh, something hit him hard in the forehead.

“What the fuck!” He said holding his head that probably had a bruise on it, he looked to see what it was and it was an apple. An apple that fell from a fucking cherry blossom tree, yeah right. You stood up and looked at the tree for any sign of an apple or a stem. “Where did that come from?” As you talked, Haruchiyo spotted Ran hiding behind a car with his phone gesturing for him to do it. For him to propose. Fuck. Here goes.

Haruchiyo maneuvered himself on one knee and pulled the ring case out of his pocket with a deep breath and a clear of his throat, you looked at him and your eyes widened. The wind blew and cherry blossom leaves fell from above the two of you “[Y/n] [L/n].” His voice was incredibly shaky as he saw tears burn in your eyes.

“We’ve been together for what feels like forever and during that time, you’ve made me a better person than I ever thought I could be. I want that to last, I want us to last.” His entire body was shaking about now, the sun was shining in his eyes and the only thing he could see was you standing there with your hands covering your mouth and the sun shining on you so beautifully. He loved this sight. “Will you marry me?” Haruchiyo was barely able to let out a breath before you jumped on him with a squeal. The two of you rolled down the hill as you snuggled yourself closer to him while attacking his lips with many kisses.

“Yes! Of course, I will.” You said loudly once you two came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. Haruchiyo smiled and looked at his hand that he had closed in a death grip. He took the ring from its cage grabbed your hand with the gentleness of an angel and slipped it onto your ring finger. Where it belonged.

“Fucking finally, we’ve been waiting here for thirty damn minutes,” Koko said coming out of nowhere and making you jump. Soon half of bonten came from their hiding spots, confusing you completely. “He means congratulations,” Kakucho says smiling at you, he bows his head slightly in respect but nobody else does. Rindou and Ran smiled. “Yeah, we can’t wait to plan the wedding,” Rindou muttered.

Koko frowned “Excuse me? That’s my job.” You sat up straddling Haruchiyo who was staring completely at where the two of your bodies met intensely. He needed this to speed up “Uh you haven’t even said congrats yet?” He rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Mazel Tov.”

“He’s not even fucking Jewish.”

“Well, I just converted so suck my dick.”

Haruchiyo sighed as he sat up holding onto your hips so you wouldn’t fall “Thank you but we have a reservation to make so fucking leave.” He said standing up with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist as you giggled girlishly. “What about your mess?” Rindou asked meanly and before Haruchiyo could demand anything, you spoke. “Please clean it for us, I can’t wait any longer to talk with Haru.” You said in the sweetest voice you could manage as Haruchiyo carried you to the car. Rindou glared at you but he sighed giving you a yes, he could say no to every single person but when it came to a girl that wasn’t a spiteful bitch or a greedy drug addict, he couldn’t even form an N.

You thanked him and the rest of them as Haruchiyo put you in the car and waved to them all as if you had already gotten married. The sun started to set on the drive to the restaurant and all you did was stare at the ring on your hand, it was beautiful and you felt like you were going to cry again “Oh baby don’t cry.” Haruchiyo said, looking away from the road and you wiped your eyes while sniffling. “I’m just so happy. I knew you were acting weird.” You said laughing and pointing at your now fiance who couldn’t help but cheese at your words. You were so happy, you just couldn’t contain it.

“I know, I wanted to make it special without making it too obvious but I guess it was anyway,” Haruchiyo said, rolling his eyes and you swooned before leaning over and giving him a wet kiss. The man had to force you away so he could focus on not crashing but now he had a tent in his pants to deal with and there’s an entire dinner ahead of him. “It’s already special!” You shouted all giggly with a smile. Your lipgloss was stained on Haruchiyo’s lips and all over it and it made him go wild when he saw it in the rearview mirror.

Shit, he shouldn’t have taken you to your favorite restaurant; he wasn’t going to last more than fifteen minutes here.

Thirty minutes into the dinner, Haruchiyo was absolutely devouring his food in hopes that the taste would distract him from how badly he wanted you. “I should’ve known you were going to do this.” Laughter followed your words as you smiled at the pink-haired man adoring him, you had barely touched your food but you weren’t exactly hungry for that. “Because of the Haitanis asking about the ring?” He asked looking up at you through his long eyelashes making you nearly explode out of adoration.

“Yeah but also, your one year was recently. You were really happy to bring me home that chip, all you did was thank me.” You said, reaching forward and pressing back the stray hairs of Haruchiyo’s. “Can you blame me? You’re the entire reason I made it this far, that chip made me realize how badly I wanted to marry you.” He muttered, grabbing hold of your hand and staring at the ring. It was pretty pricey but nothing is too expensive for Haruchiyo especially when it comes to you.

“I know I fucked up a lot of times but you made me want to be better to you and for you. I can’t imagine being better without you.” He was so sweet. You didn’t know if you were gonna cry because of his words or because of how badly you wanted to jump on him and kiss him.

Haruchiyo blinked back at you as you did with him, he was barely able to blink again before you grabbed him by his collar and kissed him above the table. It was rough, messy, and full of love but it wasn’t enough for you so when you detached you still held him in place breathing heavily. “Let’s go to the bathroom.” You muttered to him and Haruchiyo looked at you with wide eyes and said something he never thought he’d say.

“Not today. I want it to be special for you, I have everything waiting at home…even though Kakucho set it up.” The last part was a whisper as Haruchiyo and you both sat down in your seats once more. It was weird, usually, Haruchiyo is the desperate one who always wants to have a quickie in the bathroom but now it’s you. “Then let’s leave now, I can’t wait. I just love you too much Haru.” It sounded like you were going to cry if you didn’t leave right now.

You weren’t going to last a second once you two got in that car, Haruchiyo knew it. Those candles and petals trailing to the bed were going to have to wait for round two. Hey, at least you’re not focusing on why all the servers look fucking terrified of him and why the owner isn’t here like usual.

The car moved non-stop as you bounced up and down pathetically on Haruchiyo’s cock as he sat in the reclined driver’s seat groaning with his head thrown back. “Haru! Fuck!” Your grip on his hair tightened making him wince slightly and then a grin stretched across his lipgloss-covered lips. His fingers dug into the side of your thighs which will definitely leave bruises for him to apologize about later.

It was hot and sweaty which is one of the main reasons why Haruchiyo hates car sex. The AC hasn’t been working lately but it was your night so whatever you wanted, of course, he was going to give it to you. “You look so damn pretty. Ngh.” You pulled at his long pink locks harder while groaning. “Fuck you for making this about me.” You moaned through your hasty breaths as you bounced up and down on his lengthy cock. You were making so many shameless noises from both lips, it was whorish really how anyone could walk by and hear you slutting yourself out on your boyfriend–fiance’s dick.

Haruchiyo blinked at you as your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead while you moaned loudly riding him like there was no tomorrow, you confused him. “Baby–fuck…you’re my wife now, of course, it’s about you.” A slap was delivered to his soft cheek making it red in no time. It was hard for you to express yourself as he split your cunt open “No…I’m really proud of you. You did it.” There were very few words that you could barely form with all the saliva in your mouth and how you were moaning but it was clear what you meant. Haruchiyo had finally gotten better, and it was working you up.

Tears started to form in your eyes both from the pleasure and how proud you were of Haruchiyo. “You helped me do it, you’re my light. I fucking love you.” Haruchiyo says bringing his hand to the scruff of your neck and bringing you down to kiss you sloppily as you brought yourself and the man closer to your climaxes with his tip hitting that one gushy spot. You practically screamed into his mouth as he came inside you with a squeeze of the back of your neck.

Your legs shook on top of his bare ones as your climax quickly followed him like a rush whilst the two of you made out hungrily. As you slowed down, the squelches of every juice you had made echoed throughout the car along with the hard breathing from the two of you.

Haruchiyo grabbed your hair and pulled you away from him with an evil smile on his face “Think you’re hot shit for slapping me around like that?” He asked and when you didn’t respond, he pulled harder. Whines left your wet lips as your back arched “No..” Haruchiyo’s grin grew wider at your answer. His lips grew close to your ear to whisper as if he needed to do that.

“Aw really? I wish you enjoyed yourself because I’m gonna be a lot fucking meaner when we get home.” He promised you would make a chill run up your spine but you felt yourself getting wetter at the thought of your love slapping you around on a bed surrounded by candles and roses, he noticed that.

#torasplanet.ᐟ #marls-fics.ᐟ #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #sanzu haruchiyo smut #haruchiyo sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #◛⑅·˚♡haruu~

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