#it's late. I want to go to sleep. I've been missing out on sleep all week

[nebulouscoffee]

genuine question does anyone know what to do when you feel like a nervous breakdown is coming? like is there a solid reliable way to stop it or at least prevent it from getting really bad

[homogranates]

i'm so serious when i say that school makes me wanna rip my flesh off

[dadbots]

August… time to get spooky.

[ridiculously-over-obsessed]

Sick of being tired sad and overwhelmed all the time 😔

[all4yoi]

𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )

sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.

part one !

★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )

"y/n wait!"

heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.

"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.

he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.

"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.

heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.

when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.

it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.

they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!

so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.

he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.

he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.

he needed to fix this, asap.

it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.

"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.

"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.

you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.

"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."

"why would they say that then?"

"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.

heeseung stepped closer.

"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.

"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."

you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.

he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'

"heeseung.."

"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."

you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.

"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.

"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.

"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."

★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )

jay was confused.

the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.

he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.

throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.

walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.

"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"

that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"

"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.

"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.

"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.

he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.

jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.

he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.

your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."

jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.

"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.

"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.

"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.

this way he knew how he'd make things better.

"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.

right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?

"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.

he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.

"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"

you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.

"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.

jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.

"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."

"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.

"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."

new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.

"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.

"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.

"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."

★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )

jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.

he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.

"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.

jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.

he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.

it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.

but jokes were meant to be funny, right?

jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.

your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.

"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.

"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.

jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.

and he hated that.

"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."

"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.

"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.

"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"you promise?"

"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."

★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)

sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.

it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.

it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.

that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.

guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.

he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.

i deserve it.

he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.

"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.

"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"

sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.

"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.

"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.

"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.

"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."

your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."

"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.

"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."

— ౨ৎ thank u for tuning in ! @j-jinxee @slp23 @unsurereader @heelovesmeknot @sunshine-skz @hoondrop @jooniesbears-blog @jordan1024 @heeswif3y @outroherrr @harufluff @cheeseball0 @yjwluver @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @itjengirl @emiliasstuffs-blog @isa942572 @lufcxx @alienqbrain @woniebae @baekxo07 @titttuaf @chuuswifereal @kyanmeai @isabellah29 @deezbin @skzenhalove @eneiyri @a4ruby @saxytalks @denleave1088 @imdelulu @powerpuffstuts @hoonatic @dollydigital @chososloverfr @dummyf @chanyeolchannie @oddracha @wonwushu @strawberrynull @ceciloveshee @loumin908 @cexg68 @grassbutneo @gardenwons @pag-yerin @bora04 @iluvnikism @jellymiki

— i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(

[xoheewon]

first time

heeseung x virgin f!reader genre: smut, fluff warnings: cursing, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, fingering wc: 2.2k

Being a virgin in college has never been an issue for you. You don't feel embarrassed or ashamed, but you do feel left out.

All your friends constantly talk about their hookups and how amazing sex is.

At first, you figured it couldn't be that great, but as time continued you couldn't help but feel like you were missing out on something good.

“Don't feel left out Y/N, sex isn't always great,” Giselle says, putting her hand on your shoulder.

You and the girls were in your room, studying together.

“But you guys always talk about how great it is!”

“Well, it can be, with a person who knows what they're doing. We've all had our dud hookups with a guy who didn't know jack,” Karina adds. 

Winter butt's in, nodding her head, “I once had sex with this guy who was so quick to cum, I hadn't even taken my panties off yet. Then when he actually got his dick in me, he finished and didn't even get me off, I had to fake it.”

“Well how do you know if a guy knows what to do?” You ask, looking at Ningning who clears her throat. 

“You can't really tell just by looking at them, it usually comes down to how they act in the bedroom. If they worry about your pleasure as much as your own, I'd say they're pretty alright,” she says.

The girls all nod, agreeing. Karina pats your knee, “When the time comes and you feel like you're ready, the right person will be there.”

After they left, you thought about their words and they're right. When it's the right time and the right person, you'll be ready. You decide to shower and put pajamas on as it gets later.

Afterwards, you can hear the doorknob of the front door opening, your roommate must be home.

Heeseung is a nice guy. He's a year older, a senior who had been looking for a roommate to replace his old one. You, at the time, had been looking to move out of your parents house. 

You had a mutual friend, Sunghoon, who introduced you and within a week you had moved in. 

It's been a year now and living with Heeseung has been great. 

He's sweet, clean and respectful.

Unfortunately, he's also very hot.

You can't lie and say you haven't had a wet dream or two about him. 

Waking up with arousal pooling in your underwear is not the most comfortable feeling.

He comes in as you're sitting on the couch, greeting you cheerfully, “Hey Y/N!”

“Hi! It's late, what have you been up to?”

“I was just with the hottest girl, I was in heaven.”

“Oh, good for you,” you say, your smile faltering. 

“What about you, what did you do?”

You wave your hand, “The girls just came over to study.”

He nods, “I'm gonna go shower, you wanna watch a movie? Order dinner?”

You nod, watching as he retreats to the bathroom.

You sigh as the door closes.

Heeseung has probably had sex with a number of girls. He wouldn't want someone like you who's never done anything sexual.

15 minutes pass and you've been scrolling on the phone when the bathroom door opens again.

Heeseung comes out but he's not clothed.

His towel hangs around his hips, dangerously low.

You can't help the heat rising to your cheeks.

“What do you want for dinner? I'll order on my phone now,” you say, looking back down at your phone quickly.

His footsteps approach you as he hums, “You wanna get chinese?”

You see his feet in front of you as you look up.

He's right in front of you, water dripping on his body. His lean but toned chest glistens in the light of the living room.

“Or,” his hand comes up to cup your chin, “I could give you something else for dinner.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, stopping yourself from nuzzling into his hand.

“Come on, you know what I'm talking about. I've heard your pretty little whimpers and moans in your sleep when you're dreaming about me, waking up with your underwear soaked.”

You gulp, “I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry for,” he says, “If anything I should be honored to have a pretty girl dream about me.”

You look down but he raises your chin back up. “Heeseung, you don't want anything to do with me. The farthest I've ever gone with a guy was making out. I can’t offer you anything.”

He smiles, “That's even better, means I get to show you what real pleasure feels like. Do you want that?”

Maybe this is your right person and right time.

You nod, “Can I..?” You trail off, gesturing to his towel.

He undoes the towel and his cock springs up.

His tip is red and you can't help how your mouth begins to salivate. 

“You wanna suck my cock, pretty girl?”

You nod your head and he chuckles.

He takes his hand and places it in front of your mouth, “Spit.”

You gather all the spit in your mouth before depositing it in his hand.

He begins to lather his cock, and you feel yourself begin to salivate even more.

“Hold it with your hand like this,” he says, guiding your hand to hold him.

He's warm in your hand and he guides you up and down his cock. 

“Now, start with the tip.”

You lay your tongue flat against the tip, licking around it albeit apprehensively.

Now, you may have never done this before but you've done your fair share of research.

You dip your tongue into his slit before swirling it around, collecting his pre-cum.

Heeseung groans from above you, bringing a hang up to wrap it in your hair.

You pull away for a moment before placing a delicate kiss on the tip which makes him chuckle.

“Start putting some of the length in your mouth, don't rush.”

You do as he says, using your tongue to lick the underside of his cock.

Once you become comfortable, you take more of him into your mouth, placing your hand where you can't take him.

“Now start bobbing your head and hollow your cheeks, that's all there is to it, pretty girl.”

You start sucking him off eagerly, whining as you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

Heeseung moans from above you, “That's it, you're a natural.”

You go at him until your jaw begins to hurt and by then, Heeseung is tightening his grip on your hair. 

“I'm gonna cum, where do you want it?”

You pull off his cock with a pop, lolling your tongue out and continuing to jerk him off.

He smiles, “You're driving me crazy, pretty girl.”

Then, he's coming in your mouth, it's almost too much.

You swallow, not minding the taste. If anything you're proud that you made him cum.

He takes over jerking his cock to get himself hard again. 

“Can I do something?” He asks, and you nod.

“Lay back on the couch,” he says, “Gonna make you feel good.”

You do as you're told, getting comfortable. 

Heeseung gets on the couch facing you, trailing his fingers up your legs.

His hands reach your pajama top, “Can I take this off?” 

You nod, throwing your arms above your head as he begins to slide it off.

Your bare tits present themselves to him and his hands immediately come up to grope them.

His head dips, mouth coming to suck on your left nipple. 

You moan in pleasure, your hands coming to run themselves through his hair.

He twirls your other nipple between his fingers before switching.

“Such perfect tits, can't believe you've been hiding these from me.”

His mouth drops lower, kissing his way down your stomach before his lips reach the waistband of your shorts.

He looks up at you for permission and you give it to him.

Heeseung pulls your shorts and panties down, gazing at your dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty pussy, I never thought I'd get to see it.”

You blush, hands coming up to cover your face.

“Don't hide from me, I wanna see your beautiful face,” he says, pulling them away.

He lowers his face parallel to your cunt, blowing hot air on it, making you shiver.

“Heeseung-” You gasp as his tongue makes contact with your folds. 

He starts eating you out like a starved man.

His tongue finds you clit, massaging the nub, sucking on it.

Your back arches, your hands finding his hair once again.

“Oh my god, Heeseung!”

Finding your hole, he tenses his tongue, fucking it inside.

You've never felt pleasure like this.

Sure, you've masturbated, but this is a whole new world.

Heeseung switching between tongue fucking you and sucking your clit.

He brings a long, slender finger to your hole, letting your arousal coat it before slipping it inside. After a few minutes, he adds another finger, using them to open you up along with his tongue.

You can feel warmth pooling in your stomach, you know you're close.

“I'm gonna cum, Seungie,” you whine, bucking your hips up against his face.

“Cum for me,” he says, sighing as your release coats his tongue, face and fingers.

The lewd slurping sounds make your face hot as he inhales everything you give him.

As he pulls away, the lower part of his face is wet with your release and he doesn't hesitate to collect it on his fingers, sucking them into his mouth.

“You taste amazing, I could stay in that pussy for hours.”

“I've never felt anything like that before,” you say, breathing heavily.

“Do you wanna stop here? We don't have to continue if you're not ready,” he says, caressing your face.

You shake your head, “Want your cock, Seungie.”

He groans at your words, “Fuck, you're driving me crazy.”

You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

He takes his cock into his hand, rubbing it up and down your folds, making you whine as his tip continuously hits your puffy clit.

He saturates himself with your juices, before positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod at him and he slowly begins to enter you.

Inch by inch you feel the stretch, wincing slightly.

Once he bottoms out, he gives you time to adjust.

You take in the full feeling in your belly, like he's all the way inside your stomach.

You buck your hips, “Move, please.”

He starts off slow, pulling all the way out before pushing back in. He rolls his hips in a way that makes it feel like there's even more cock to take.

After he sees you're comfortable, he picks up the pace to a relentless thrust.

His balls hit your ass, the lewd slapping sound making you even more wet.

“Fuck, you're taking me so well pretty.”

You whine, nodding, “Love your cock, Seungie.”

His pace turns animalistic, fucking you into the couch as you moan louder and louder.

“Fuck, Heeseung!”

He lifts one of your legs, bringing it over his shoulder to change the angle and you arch as he hits a new spot inside you.

“Oh my god!” You scream, jaw dropping as he groans above you.

“Fuck, I love this pussy. Never want another one after this,” he says, kissing your thigh beside his head.

“I'm gonna cum again, Seungie please.” You don't even know what you're begging for. 

“Me too baby, fuck where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” you plead, “Want it in me.”

Heeseung curses up a storm as you clench around him, milking his cock as he finally cums, with you following right after.

His warm cum fills you up, making your cunt and belly feel full. 

He releases your leg, putting it down as he slowly pulls out.

Heeseung watches his cum drip out of you, before leaning down to kiss you.

You taste yourself on him as he slides his tongue inside your mouth.

The kiss is sweet, slow.

As he pulls away, he leaves kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Heeseung, that was amazing. Thank you.”

He smiles, “I was honored to be your first, pretty girl, and hopefully your last?” 

“Do you like me, Lee Heeseung?” You taunt him with a wide smile on your face.

“Maybe I do. Would you be mine if I asked you?”

You nod, “I'd love nothing more.”

After resting for a few minutes, Heeseung gets off the couch, putting his arm under your things while the other finds your shoulders, lifting you up bridal style.

He brings you to the bathroom, getting a warm rag to clean you both up.

“You wanna cuddle? My room or yours?” He asks, holding your face in his hands, using his thumbs to caress your cheeks.

“Yours,” you reply, “I like your room.”

He lifts you again, bringing you to his room, putting one of his shirts on you and bringing you to his bed.

Your head rests on his chest as his arms come to wrap around you. 

“I'd like to take you out on a date tomorrow, I meant what I said about making you mine,” Heeseung whispers into your ear.

“I'd like that,” you respond, lifting your head to give him a kiss on the lips.

note: this is my second time writing smut, my apologies if it's ass 😭 don't hesitate to give constructive criticism! also pls ignore any typos/grammar mistakes and the formatting im too lazy to fix it.

[crookedteethed]

HOW i slept with your father | r.c.

Pairing: (older)Bestfriend's Dad Rafe! x Fem!reader

Summary: In which you tell your best friend how you accidentally slept with her father...oops.

Warnings: 18+ Semi-smut (protected p in v) (smut showed through flashback), age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Rafe is in his early forties), cursing, ocs, unrealistic reactions?, hints at Rafe being a fuckboy, I also can't tell if Rafe preyed on reader (you decide for yourself)

A/N: This story is really just reader telling her best friend about her night with Rafe, lmk if you want an actual smutty fic with bestfriend dad Rafe (heart emoticon)

bfd masterlist | main masterlist(s) | taglist | Word count: 1.6k

"Maribella, I had sex with your Father."

There, you said it. Your guilty conscience has been cleared. Your mind has been restored, and you can stop thinking about how much of a terrible friend you are because you're really not. You told the truth.

It's like that old stupid proverb, something about the truth setting you free or you setting the truth free, something like that.

There had been a moment of silence. A moment in which Maribella had slowly turned around from her lowboy vanity, half of her face the color of rose red from the blush powder she'd been frantically beating on her cheeks--you two were going out tonight. 

In that moment of silence, you glanced at the ticking clock up on Maribella's wall. It was 8:50 pm, and the boys-- the ones you and Maribella met on the beach that evening, were supposed to pick you both up in thirty minutes. 

"Gross." Maribella mumbles, returning to her vanity mirror and continuing to powder her cheeks. "You aren't going to be my new stepmother now, are you?" She says. 

You looked at the framed photo on Marbella's vanity--the photo of a smallish Maribella with chubby cheeks and missing baby teeth sandwiched between a very young Mr. Cameron and Maribella's Late mother (She wasn't dead, just not in Maribella's life after the divorce). 

You think to yourself how much of a resemblance your friend shares with her father--the same cerulean-colored eyes and dusky blond hair--you remember thinking this that night in which you fucked Mr. Cameron. 

You remember having to close your eyes shut while his girthy length pile drove into you during missionary, but Rafe had insisted on keeping your eyes open, or he wouldn't have let you cum that time. "Eyes on me, baby." he said, lightly tapping your cheek.

"No, not if you don't want me to." you said.

Maribella hums.

"To make it even, you can sleep with my father." you suggested, which cause Maribella to scrunch up her face in her backwards reflection.

"Your father's gross and old." She says. "and besides, isn't he still with that women?"

"My mother? Yes."

You watch from your spot on Maribella's bed as she gets up from her vanity and enters her walk-in closet.

"At least I get the appeal with my father." She shouts from the other room.

Minutes later, Maribella emerges from her closet, no longer in her silk bathrobe but in a simple white slip dress. 

"How do I look?" she asks you.

"Cute." you tell her.

She hums again, being satisfied with your response. Then, Maribella goes back to her vanity to continue doing her makeup.

"So, tell me." She says. "Tell me how'd you fucked my dad."

You shrug. "It just happened one time." and many other times afterward.

"Y'know." Maribella turns around excitedly. "Out of all the women my dad has slept with, you're the first one I ever gotten to talk to about it, so what was he like?"

Now it was your turn to scrunch up your face in disgust. "Maribella, this is gross. I'm not going to tell you how your dad fucks in bed."

"No fair." she whines. "I tell you about all the guys I've slept with."

You raise your eyebrow, to be fair she had a point.

"Let's just pretend my dad isn't my dad or Mr. Cameron; he's just Rafe, some stupid boy you fucked; now tell me everything."

Rafe was just some stupid guy you had fucked, but he wasn't a boy; he was all man--which is what had you enamored by him--it was either that or he was the first guy actually to tend to the needs of being wanted that had you so enamored by him.

 Unlike other guys you had been with, Rafe was attentive and considerate, making sure to meet your needs and desires. That's what made him stand out and had you so enamored.

This is why you kept coming back.

It was the night of Maribella's 21st birthday party. In your retellings of the story, you failed to mention how Rafe had kept staring at you that night. Every time you encountered each other, his eyes would first wander to your lips and then linger on your breast--which was practically spilling out the top of your corset. And each time you labeled him "Mr. Cameron," he would insist on you calling him "Rafe" because you were no longer a child. 

And it was liberating that Rafe did not see you as a child anymore, now seeing you for who you are: an adult woman. 

You also failed to mention when you spotted Rafe and his then-date, some black-haired women equally his age, arguing on the upstairs deck of Tanny Hill.

You didn't tell Maribella that you overheard Rafe's date yell at him: "Don't call me the next time you're horny, call Mrs. Young Pussy instead." Before storming out.

You kept in how Rafe had called you Beautiful that night, you didn't keep in how much that made you blush, after Maribella had said "Gross."

You exaggerated how much you had drunk that night to make it seem like a blackout drunk story—was it 10 shots? 20? You've forgotten, you told Maribella.

You told Maribella how after you and Rafe carried a shit-fazed Maribella to her bedroom, Rafe told her you didn't have to go home as the rest of the guests did; you could stay.

"You're always welcomed to stay" His exact words.  

You also left out that moment in which you and Rafe shared in the kitchen sharing a bottle of wine, in which you confronted him about his date leaving mad, and in his exact words:

"Women my age are just so uptight."

And though you hadn't quite understood what he meant, you nodded anyway.

He then says: "I'm sure you can understand that, but in reverse, with men your age."

"Men my age are stupid and don't know what they want." you responded.

"That's a shame." Rafe had told you. "Because I know what I want."

And you knew it wasn't the weed you smoked earlier or the few sips of red wine you were having that altered your perception to make you think Rafe was getting closer to you; Rafe was getting closer to you. 

By the end of the conversation, Rafe was no longer on the opposite side of the kitchen island; he was now standing beside you, the skin of his elbow touching yours. 

Your breathing had become uneven as Rafe's gaze remained steadfastly locked with yours, but you deliberately avoided meeting his eyes, for this was your best friend's father.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to think of a way to break the silence. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to look into the intense blue of Rafe's eyes.

You didn't tell Maribella when you told Rafe that you weren't uptight, which was a quip to his response about knowing what he wants. And then he kissed you.     

The kiss took both of you by surprise, but it was undeniable that there was a spark between you. As your lips met, time seemed to stand still, and in that moment, you knew that this was the beginning of something extraordinary.

"And then we had sex." you concluded to Maribella.

Sex would be an understatement, you fucked.

Rafe had placed pecks on every inch of your body as he carried you into his bedroom, a room that was always off-limits when you and Maribella used to play with each other growing up. 

You were too enamored by Rafe's bergamot scent and how he kept calling you beautiful with each peck to your flesh to examine his room and hypothesize why this room of all rooms was once off limits. 

You were too overwhelmed when you felt his large muscular hands tear your clothes off your body to notice the picture of Maribella sitting on Rafe's bed side table.

You were too overcome with lust and craving when Rafe requested that you retrieve a condom from his nightstand, where you intentionally dislodged the photograph of Maribella.

Out of sight out of mine.

As Rafe carefully rolled the condom down his reddening shaft, you feigned an air of eager anticipation, so much so that you almost missed when Rafe remarked:

"You have no idea how long I've been longing for this moment."

Right then, without a warning, Rafe plunged himself deep inside of you like no man has ever done before. 

Your eyes widened, and your mouth formed the shape of an 'o' as you felt his thick cock split your cunt open, kiss your cervix, and sheath deep inside your belly. 

You counted the number of times Rafe said your pussy was tight; it was a number of 10.

At this point, Maribella no longer sat at her vanity and was now sitting beside you on her bed. 

"Oh, lame." She says. "So it was just a drunken mistake, a one-night stand kind of thing?"

You hummed. This reminds you that you should cut things off with Rafe since Maribella knows now. 

Right then in the moment Maribella's phone dings.

"The boys are here." She says. "You ready?"

And as you and Maribella walked down the spiral staircase of Tanny Hill, your friend told you:

"Now that I think of it, I'm not that pissed that you slept with my dad; as I said, I get it: he's rich, and he's good-looking for his age; what other qualities do you need in a man?"

In which you hummed again.

"Now if this was a recurring thing, that's a whole other story--Oh! hi Daddy."

As you and Maribelle descended to the base of the stairs, you were greeted by Rafe.

Rafe looked at you first before greeting his daughter.

You made an effort to maintain eye contact with him, despite his patronizing gaze, resisting the temptation to steal glances at him in his form-fitting shirt that accentuated his muscular physique.

You focused on maintaining a calm and composed demeanor, refusing to let his condescension affect you. Instead, you redirected your attention to the conversation at hand.

"Where are you girls headed?" He asks, addressing no one in particular.

"We're going out," Maribella says, sensing the tension and tugging your wrist towards the door.

"Don't wait up for me; we'll be out all night," Maribella said, Rafe's eyes never leaving yours as you and Maribella exited the door.

The boys you'd met earlier—Steven and Conrad, you think their names were—were parked outside Tanny Hill, blasting some obnoxious music from their car speakers.

"Oh wait, I think I forgot something," you tell Maribella as you approach the car. 

You don't wait for Maribella's approval before jogging back inside her house, where her father awaited you behind the front door with a sly smirk on his lips.

"I knew you couldn't resist telling me a goodbye," he remarked, just as the two of you leaned in for a messy, passionate kiss.

Knowing you were pressed for time, you were the one to break the kiss. 

'Same time again tomorrow night?' he asks, his voice filled with a mix of hope and desire as he wipes away the remnants of your shared moment. 

"Same time." you reassured.

[bitchesuntitled]

Wrong Delivery

Summary: Sleepin' with the hot construction guy doing the remodel at your work, he winds up buying flowers for someone else...

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI go on get! No outbreak/pre outbreak(you decide), fluff, smut, miscommunication, cussing, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv(don't do that, make smart choices), cream pie, Joel being a dork.

A/N: First time I've ever actually finished a Joel story I started working on! Many thanks to @strang3lov3 for the encouragement and taking a look at this, @jay-zzle as always for giving me ideas and making moodboards for me because I hate doing them myself! ❤️❤️❤️

🌹This is for @morallyinept’s flora & fauna challenge! 🌹

Divider provided by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist||AO3 Link

As you rush into the building, trying to avoid the construction team surrounding the place, a timid smile crosses your face when you spot Joel, the man responsible for why you’re running late this morning. Instead of getting ready for work like you were supposed to, Joel Miller decided he wanted to spend his morning coaxing another orgasm out of you, as if the three last night weren’t enough. It’s been a couple of months of this. 

It had never been your intention to start sleeping with the hot contractor who had been doing construction at your place of work, you both just happened to be at the same bar one night. One thing led to another and now it’s been this, whatever this is.

“Mornin’ guys,” you say passing the crew, each giving their own sort of greeting back, be it a grunt of acknowledgment or repeating the greeting.

“Mornin’ ma’am,” Joel says with a cheeky smile, “Runnin’ a little late?”

“Yeah, woke up late,” you shrugged, feeling your face heat up.

“There you are!” Becky shouts, making her way towards you, “Angie is up my ass right now about where you are with those reports you said you’d get done yesterday.”

“On it,” you sigh, “Nice talking to you Joel.”

“Oh!” Becky said with a smile, grabbing his bicep, “Hi Joel! You guys sure have been working hard on all of this.”

You try to keep your eyes from rolling at Becky’s consistent attempt at flirting with Joel. She has definitely tried her hardest to get his attention, made cookies “for the crew” but only handed some of them to Joel, tries to talk to him every chance she can, wearing lower cut tops so her cleavage is on full display, batting eyelashes and laughing at any dumb thing he says. It’s starting to get on your nerves, if you’re being honest. Making your way to your desk you open the drawer, shoving your purse inside before closing it and turning on your computer. You open the teams app, sending Angie a quick message to let her know you’ll put the file with the reports in the folder outside her door, grabbing the file and making your way to her office.

Becky is still talking Joel’s ear off and you have to stifle your laugh, watching his eyebrows scrunch together and his polite nod before excusing himself. She catches you as you're on your way back to your cubicle to start the work day.

“That Joel Miller is a man,” Becky sighs, walking beside you, “The things I would let him do to me.”

“Oh jeez,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting down at your desk.

“I wonder what his dick is like,” she continues, “I bet it’s big.”

You turn to your computer hoping she can’t see the look on your face because then the jig would be up.

“Uhm,” you say, clearing your throat, “You better be careful. Don’t wanna get turned into HR.”

—

“Hello,” a frazzled delivery guy announces himself at the entrance to your cubicle. “I have a delivery for you, miss.”

“For me?!” Becky asks excitedly, seeing the bouquet of flowers. The delivery guy nodded, handing her the flowers. “Who are they from?!”

“Uh… Joel Miller?” The guy says, looking at his sheet. Your jaw drops upon hearing his words. Why on earth would Joel send Becky flowers?

“Oh my god!” Becky squeals with delight, grabbing the card, “Aw! Look! It says darlin’ on the envelope!”

Becky opens the card, reading it aloud:

“Figured a pretty lady like you should have some flowers to look at. Been havin’ the time of my life gettin’ to know ya and would love to take you out. He signed it off with a heart and J. Miller! How sweet is that?!”

Beside yourself on handling this, the only thing you could think of was finding the man himself. If this entire thing between you two was just for fun so be it, but you needed answers.

“Real sweet,” you mutter standing up, “I’m…  uh… I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” Becky hums dreamily, staring at the flowers on her desk.

You make your way to the front of the building, spotting Gus, one of the construction guys.

“Can you tell Joel I need to talk to him?”

“Sorry ma’am, he had to leave earlier, something about Tommy.” Gus shrugs. 

“Uhm… okay.” You nod, deciding to make your way to the breakroom, sitting at one of the tables trying to collect your thoughts. Maybe it’s for the best that he left. That way the entire building wouldn’t see you blow up. Are you even still supposed to see each other tonight? That had been the plan when he left this morning. What the actual fuck, you think to yourself, give annoying ass Becky flowers to ask her out, and then fuck you? That two-timing son of a bitch!

“So fucking stupid,” you mutter to yourself.

—

You make it through the workday, as best as you can, trying not to think of Joel and how mad you are all while Becky continues to talk about him all day. What should she wear, wondering where he’d take her, what they would do, should she sleep with him on the first date. Hopefully, the Excedrin will kick in soon to help with the teeth grinding headache you’ve had all day. Walking to your car Becky’s shrill voice rings out wishing you a good evening.

“Yeah, you too,” you grumble, pulling your car door open and throwing your purse inside. You’re still so mad, fuming, seeing red as you drive towards your place. Once getting home, you quickly change into comfy clothes, and see you have a text from Joel.

JMiller: Can’t wait to see you beautiful ;) Leavin’ Tommy’s

You scowl looking at the text. How do you even respond to that? Petty, that’s how.

You: K.

You see the text bubbles pop up, disappear then pop up again before his face shows on your screen with an incoming call.

“Hello,” you snap.

“Hey,” Joel says hesitatingly, “Bad day at work?”

“Well, Becky got some lovely flowers delivered at work.”

“Oh?”

“Yep,” you say with a harsh pop at the end.

“And?” Joel asks, “Is that it?”

“Delivery guy and card said they were from you.”

“Fuck me,” Joel groans “Those were not for goddamn Becky!”

“Sure about that?”

“I got them for you.” Joel argues.

“Yeah, okay.” You huff into the receiver, rolling your eyes. “Look, I get it. It’s fine if you didn’t want this going anywhere but you could’ve been honest with me about it.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel groans, “I do want this going somewhere! Like I said, the flowers were for you!”

“Sure,” you say, shaking your head, “Just be honest, Joel. This has just been fun, that’s it. You’re getting your dick wet, stringing me al—“

“God damn it! I am telling the truth!” Joel growls, cutting you off. “I even have proof!”

“What proof?!” You spit back, “The proof of the flowers you sent Becky? Yeah, I saw them, and the card too. Sweet touch signing it off with a heart and then your name.”

Suddenly there is a knock on your door. You cock your head to the side, hearing the knock sound through the phone as well. Of fucking course, Tommy’s is a five minute drive to your place, making your way to the door you swing it open to see Joel standing there. His nostrils flared, phone held up to his ear, dropping it and angrily stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Just give me five minutes, I swear, they were meant for you and I have fuckin’ proof,” Joel says, holding up a piece of paper.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You groan, smacking your phone onto the entry table.  “Why are you here?”

“I was on my way home from Tommy’s. Figure I’d come here first,” Joel says, holding the paper out to you, “Go on, look at it.”

You grab it, glancing it over. Farrah’s Flowers printed at the top, with your name listed as the order’s recipient, eyes bulging out of your head as you look at him.

“Told you.”

“Wait, then how the fuck did they get to Becky then?”

“Somebody fucked up, that’s all I know but that is my copy of the receipt for buyin’ them in the first place, and that is your name on it,” Joel smirks in triumph, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

Your shoulders relax as you open the door wider, motioning your head for him to come in. He gives a subtle nod, making his way into your home, you slump against the door once it’s closed.

“Joel,” you start, “What the fuck are we?”

He cages you against the door, pushing his lower half into you. You sigh, looping your arms around his neck, looking at those dark chocolate eyes.

“Well,” Joel says, kissing your cheek, “I want you,” placing a soft kiss against your lips, “More than just for sex,” he whispers, against your lips breathing in each other's air causing you to feel a dizzying arousal. Lips collide with him in a hungry kiss, tongues rolling against one another, gasping when his hands creep down to hook around your thighs lifting you, grabbing onto your ass before pulling you away from the door and carrying you to your bedroom.

Joel lays you down on your bed hovering over you, never breaking away from your lips, licking into your mouth with desperation like this might be his last chance. Arousal begins pool in your underwear. Hands gliding down his back, feeling the warmth radiating from him, lifting the bottom of his shirt until he finally lifts to fling it off.

“Don’t want anyone else,” Joel husks, lightly biting your neck, causing you to moan at the sensation of his teeth against your skin, “Just you.”

“Joel,” you whimper as his hand travels down the length of your shirt, pushing it up to expose your tits, ducking his head down. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak before switching to give the other equal attention, kissing a trail down the soft flesh of your stomach until he reaches the top of your leggings.

“Can I?” He asks, looking at you, fingers hooking into your waistband. You give a firm nod and he pulls them off along with your underwear. He sighs once they are off, using his shoulders to spread your legs further apart, “So fucking pretty,” he hums, nipping and kissing along your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your center.

You can feel his breath against your folds, trembling with anticipation for his tongue and lips to make contact, letting out a soft moan Joel begins lapping at your folds, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth. Tongue massaging circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you moan, raking your fingers through his hair and lightly tugging.

Joel’s hum reverberated into your core. His mouth opened and he began to fuck you with his tongue while firmly holding your gaze. You’re back arched at the sensation, letting out a gasp. You roll your hips against his face, his nose pressing deliciously against your clit. He grunts, moving his thumbs to spread your lips, licking a stripe up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. Your legs begin to shake at the sensation.

“Oh my god, Joel!” You whine, arching your back, feeling the band tightening within your core, begging for release. Joel sinks two of his thick fingers into you causing you to cry out, moving them to massage that sweet spot against your walls, “Yes! Oh my god, fuck!” You could feel the smug smirk on his face, knowing you’re about to come.

“Come on,” he coos, firmly licking your bundle of nerves “Let me have it baby.”

You cry his name out over and over as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing through you. He continues lapping at your folds, wanting to make sure he gets every last drop before you push his head away. He crawls up the length of your body, the denim of his jeans scratching against your skin.

“Good?” He asks, you nod giggling and he smirks, grabbing the nape of his neck you pull him closer to your face, looking into your eyes he whispers a hi. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, surging forward to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. He groans into your mouth, grinding his bulge against your center, the rough denim providing friction against your core. His hand moves to his belt, swiftly unhooking it and unbuttoning his jeans. Hands sliding down to help him push the denim off his hips, boxers following suit. You grip his hard length, stroking it from tip to base. Palm spreading the precome over his long thick length. Joel lets out a soft moan at the touch.

“Want you inside me,” you whimper, rubbing his cock against your slick heat. “Please.”

He bats your hand away, grabbing his cock to tease your folds more, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. You let out a moan when his tip catches against your entrance. Only for him to slide back up to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against you.

“Joel,” you begged, titling your pelvis, “Please, please fuck me.”

Joel smirks, sliding his cock back down to your entrance, feeding you his bulbous head. You writhe, feeling the stretch. He sinks into you slowly, filling you up until his tip kisses your cervix. Fingers gripping his back, each of you letting out a satisfied moan.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel murmurs into your neck, nipping and sucking on your pulse point, letting you adjust to his size, “Best pussy ever,” placing gentle kisses along your jaw.

“Joel, move,” you plead, hitching your legs up on his waist, “Need you to move.”

He pulls out slowly before snapping his length into you again, letting out a shaky breath at the harshness of his thrust. Your grip on his back tightens, sinking your nails into his skin. He lets out a hiss as he rocks his hips into you, trying to find that spot that makes you see stars. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, “Don’t want anyone else, darlin’.”

Breathy moans shared between kisses, sweat slicked skin gliding against each other. He pushes your thighs back further into a mating press, finding that sweet spot inside your walls.

“Oh my god,” you whine, back beginning to arch, “Right there!”

His cock massages that spot with every stroke, causing your muscles to tighten. You can feel the coil in your belly tightening, walls beginning to flutter around his shaft as he drills into that spot over and over.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel growls, feeling the heat of his skin slapping against yours, “I need you to come, baby. Ain’t gonna last much longer.”

You moan wantonly as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. Joel holding out to make sure you come first. The coil in your belly finally snaps, sending you over the edge, white hot electricity flowing through every limb. He thrusts into you harshly half a dozen more times before his hips stutter.

“Only you, darlin’, only want you,” he grunts, as he empties himself inside you, painting your walls with his sticky release, “only want you.”

Joel collapses, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of your head, nuzzling his nose against yours, placing soft kisses against your lips.

“Only want you,” he sighs.

—

You spent the next hour, in each other's arms, talking, snuggling and kissing.

“I can’t believe you would think I’d want Becky,” Joel booms with laughter, eyes crinkling around the edges. You smirk playfully, slapping his arm.

“Look,” you giggle, “I didn’t know if her flirting finally wore you down!”

“Hi Joel!” He says in an exaggerated high pitch, batting his eyelashes, “My, you sure have been working hard!” he adds with a girly giggle, lifting his pecs to create some sort of cleavage.

“Oh shut up!”

“Did you see the flowers though? Like actually look at ‘em?”

“Not really,” you sigh, playing with a loose thread on your blanket.

“Purple tulips for new beginnings and love,” Joel says, planting a kiss on your cheek, “Jasmine for devotion,” he continues, kissing your other cheek, “and pink roses for appreciation,” he smiles before kissing the tip of your nose.

“Really?”

“Yep, the florist helped me pick them out,” Joel says, grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss, “Told ya they were for you.”

[loveesiren]

Baby Daddy (Pt. 1)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/n: Wrote this a while back and got a lot of requests for a part 2 so I will post it as well! Along with a blurb I've written. Never really planned to make this a series but if you guys want more just let me know! :)

Warnings: Light smut, language, cocaine, angst, pregnancy, mention of abortion, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rafe thrusted into you one final time before finishing. Cumming deep inside of you for the fourth time tonight. "Fuckkkkk," He moaned before pulling out of you and laying on his back. "You're so fucking tight."

"Yep," You said dryly as you pulled your panties and shorts back on.

"Where are you going?" Rafe asked as he turned to look at you.

"Uhhh, home?" You tell him. "Why would I stay?"

"Whatever," Rafe said before rolling over and pouring a line of coke out on his night stand.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your bag before leaving his room and storming through the house out the front door.

The walk home was boring. You put your headphones in and slowly danced your way back to the Chateau. As you did every fucking night.

After your mom split and John B's dad went missing you were John B's legal guardian. You were step siblings but his dad raised you when your mom left and for that you were forever grateful. Even though you were a little older, you were really close with John B and his friends. You guys did everything together. Told eachother everything. Except for this.

You'd been sleeping with Rafe for 6 months now. It all started after a Christmas party last December. You were working your shift at the club, way more tipsy than you should have been for being on the clock. A drunk Rafe Cameron started talking you up and you flirted back. The boy was handsome enough. Granted, he was a fucking dick. But you just wanted to get off.

He took you into the bathroom on your break and absolutely rocked your world. No one had ever made you cum like he did. The way you could feel yourself release around his cock made you both fucking dissolve into the earth.

From that day forward, you guys fucked constantly. But you never told a soul and neither did he. Kooks and Pogues don't hook up.

______________

Your eyes flickered open. "Ugh," You groaned as you tried to sit up. You were in your room, Kiara asleep next to you. She slept with you every night since her parents kicked her out. She was your closest girlfriend.

A wave of nausea washed over you and you hopped out of bed and booked it to the bathroom. You expelled the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Gasping for air in between heaves.

"Are you okay?" Kiara was at the door now, crouching beside you to hold your hair back.

"Must be the flu," You said before vomiting again. "I didn't even drink last night."

"Alright let me get you some water and a pillow. You're probably gonna stay in here today."

You rested by the toilet and drank your water but by 11am you were feeling 100%.

You walked out into the kitchen and greeted everyone.

"Don't get us sick," John B said, stepping back from you.

"I feel fine now," You said. "I'm actually hungry!"

Sarah and Kiara eyed you for a moment. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You said as you popped some waffles in the toaster.

"Are you pregnant?" Kie asked.

You paused for a moment. You and Rafe never used condoms. And had you been taking your birth control lately? You were always bad at taking meds.

"Aha, no. No way." You responded.

John B, JJ, and Pope sat awkwardly.

You looked to the floor as you pressed your hand to your stomach. Thoughts racing through your head as you tried to remember the last time you had your period. "Fuck."

"Do you have a secret lover?" Sarah teased.

"John B, give me the keys to the Twinkie." You demanded.

John B fished them out of his pocket and handed them to you and you rushed out the door.

"Y/N, where are you going?!" Kiara called after you but you ignored her.

You hopped into the van and drove off quickly. When you pulled up to the drug store you ran inside and and bought five pregnancy tests and a gallon of water.

You leaned back in your seat and sighed after chugging as much water as you could.

You considered texting Rafe but you voted against it. You needed to be sure.

You drove back to the Chateau, grocery bag in hand as you locked yourself in the bathroom.

Two hours later you were standing over the counter, staring at the five plus signs set before you.

You couldn't help but cry. "Fuck..."

"Y/N?" You heard Sarah and Kie outside your door. You leaned back and swallowed. You had no idea what to do but telling a friend might be a good start.

You open the door and yank them into the bathroom. "Y/N! What's going on?" Sarah asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh before nodding your head towards the bathroom counter.

Sarah and Kie look at eachother before slowly walking towards where the five pregnancy tests sat. Five. And they were all positive.

"Oh shit, Y/N..." Sarah said.

Kiara swallowed. "Uhm...is this like a congratulations or a 'we need to go to the clinic right now' situation?"

"I don't know," You said, joining them by the sink. "I should probably talk to...to..him." Your eyes fell to your feet.

"Who, Y/N?" Kiara asked. "We can take you there, we're here for you."

You laugh and throw your head back.

"Y/N...Who is he?" Sarah asks.

You bite your lip as you look down to meet her eyes.

She was confused and concerned. She wanted to help but her and Kie were both nervous about what was going on.

"Rafe," You said softly, barely a whisper.

Kiara and Sarah looked at you with wide eyes. "Wait..Rafe? My brother?? Rafe's the dad?!" Sarah was practically screaming now.

"Shhhh!" You said as you ran and covered her mouth. "Yes, it's Rafe's okay! Can we please not scream it to the whole world?!"

Sarah was silent as you backed away from her.

"Since when have you been fucking Rafe Cameron?!" Kiara asks.

"Y/N, he's a piece of shit!" Sarah added.

"Okay, listen! We've been hooking up since Christmas and...I don't know. I thought it was a one time thing but it just kept happening."

"Is that where you go every night?!" Sarah asked.

You sigh and press your tongue to your inner cheek. "Yeah."

"So you're fucking my brother," Sarah scoffs.

"You're fucking mine!" You hiss back.

Sarah rolls her eyes and shrugs. "Touche. But Rafe's a fucking dick!"

"Yeah, I'm aware." You sigh as you lean back and sink to the floor. "Should I even tell him?"

"He'd wanna know," Sarah said softly. "As much as I hate him, he loves hard."

You feel your phone buzz and pull it from your pocket. "Fuck, it's Rafe."

You coming over tonight?

"I can't do this." You begin to cry, placing your head on your knees. "Rafe doesn't even care about me. I'm just pussy to him."

"I don't know, Y/N...He's always sucked at showing his true feelings."

You shake your head before Sarah can say anything else. You grab your phone and respond.

No. We shouldn't see each other anymore.

You hesitate but press send. It breaks your heart but you know this is the right thing.

Your phone buzzes again but you ignore it.

"I'm gonna call the clinic," You say as you excuse yourself from the bathroom and go sit on the porch, lighting up a cigarette.

Your fingers hover over the screen of your phone, not being able to bring yourself to do it.

"Fuck this!" You yell as you toss your phone across the patio.

"Y/N-"

"What John B?!"

"Are you okay?"

You were pacing now, taking drags off your cigarette as you tried to catch your breath.

"You shouldn't be smoking." John B says.

You turn to look at him. "Doesn't matter," You mutter.

"You're pregnant." John B states. You turn to look at him again. Annoyed the Kie and Sarah said anything. "And no, Kie and Sarah didn't tell me. I'm just not stupid."

You sit down and sigh, dragging your cigarette again.

Your phone continues to buzz from the other side of the porch. John B goes to pick it up. When you notice him staring at it you quickly snatch it from his hands.

"Rafe?" His voice is almost a whisper.

You sigh as you take your bottom lip between your teeth. "Yeah." You respond.

You look down at your phone to see the five messages Rafe had sent you.

What? What do you mean? Why?

Y/N, I'm sorry I was a dick last night.

Please talk to me.

I'm sorry...

I need to talk to you. Please.

"Are you gonna tell him?" John B asks.

You put your head in your hands as you try to choke back tears. You had not intended to find out you were pregnant today. Nor were you prepared for your brother and all your friends to find out you'd been fucking Rafe Cameron. It was all too overwhelming.

"I don't know," You respond honestly.

John B sighs. "Look, never been a fan of Rafe. I had no clue you two were.....close." He says, motioning towards your stomach. "But I think you should think about it a little more and talk to him before you make a final decision."

You chewed on his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.

_________

You locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night. Curled up under the covers as your phone continued to vibrate.

Nonstop calls and texts from Rafe. Since when has he cared so much? He was probably just coked out and horny.

You decided to shut your phone off. He'd have to find another girl to get his dick wet. Sex was the last thing you wanted right now.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, completely unsure of what to do.

The next three days were awful. Throwing up all morning, crying all afternoon. Your friends tried to be there for you but you continued to barricade yourself in your room. You'd come out once in a while to grab some food and water and instantly go back to your bed, binge watching Jersey Shore on your lap top under the covers.

You'd kept your phone off. You really just couldn't bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. And the people you would need to talk to were right outside the door.

_______

"Oh shit," Sarah said as she stood up from her spot on the porch, getting a better view of Rafe's truck pulling up to the Chateau.

The rest of the Pogues stood up too, not fully prepared to handle this situation.

"John B!" Rafe said as he hopped out of his truck. "John B, look man, I don't have any beef with you, alright? I just really need to see Y/N."

"She's not feeling great right now, man." John B responded.

Kiara slipped away and rushed to your bedroom.

You heard knocking on your door and you groaned. "What?"

"Y/N, uhm..." Kiara begins.

"What is it, Kie? I'm sleeping."

"Rafe's here."

Your chest tightens at her words.

"I don't-I don't think he's going to leave without seeing you, Y/N."

"Fuck me!" You whisper as you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I'll be out in a second!"

Kiara goes back to where Rafe and John B are arguing on the porch. "She'll be right out."

The boys shut up and look at her.

"Thank you." Rafe said.

You hop out of bed and open your door. The light of day almost blinding as your eyes adjusted. You instantly missed the dark warmth of your bed.

You slowly make your way to the porch. Your plaid pajama shorts clung loosely to your hips while your tank top hugged you tightly. Your hair was a wavy mess. You hadn't done anything to it in days. But you really couldn't care less at this point.

You shyly step outside. Rafe's eyes flicker to you, a small smile on his lips before taking in your appearance. Concern instantly washing over his face. "Y/N, are you okay?" He asked, taking a step closer to you and reaching for your hands.

You quickly pull away from him and he frowns. "Uhm, could you guys give us a minute?" You ask the group. They all nod hesitantly and head inside.

"Why are you here, Rafe?" You ask once the two of you are alone.

"I haven't heard from you in days. I-I got worried."

You sighed and looked down to your feet.

"Look, Y/N, I'm really sorry I've been such a dick. I'm trying to quit the blow it's just so hard, ya know?"

"It's fine, Rafe. I knew what this was from the beginning." You shrug.

"I like you." He admits. You look up at him. "I like you a lot. I suck at showing it and I get why you're probably sick of me. But I need you to know you're more than just sex to me."

"W-what do you mean?" You ask confused.

Rafe lets out a slow, shaky breathe and scratches the back of his head. "I'm not good at...at showing emotions," He begins. "I don't like being vulnerable. That's why I do coke, I guess. I've just-I've never been good at the whole feelings thing and I just really didn't know how to tell you how I really felt. But when you said you didn't want to see me anymore...." He trails off, looking down to meet your gaze. "I-it hurt me..."

Your expression softens and you give him a sympathetic smile.

"And if you don't want to see me anymore, I get it. I just wanted to tell you-"

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head into his chest. He was stunned for a moment but moved to wrap his arms around you tightly, nuzzling his face into your messy hair.

"I like you too, Rafe." You admit. "And I don't want to stop seeing you. I was just scared. There is something we need to talk about..."

"Anything, sweetheart," He says as he runs his fingers up and down your spine.

You swallow and squeeze your eyes shut. "Rafe, I'm pregnant." The words leave your lips without warning and you brace yourself for whatever is coming next.

Rafe stops moving. Your body tenses as you still cling to him. After a moment, he places his hands on your shoulders and pulls you back to look at him. "What did you say?"

"I-I'm pregnant. I was going to call the clinic but I thought I should talk to you about it first and I'm sorry I ignored you the last few days I just-"

Rafe starts shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, baby, shhhh." He says. "I just uhm...do you want to keep it?" He asks nervously.

"I-I mean...I've just never really thought about being a mom before."

"We can move you to Tannyhill," Rafe starts. "And I'll tell my dad I need more work and we'll save up and Wheezie can babysit and-"

"Rafe!" You stop him. You can't help but laugh. "Are you saying you want to keep it? I was only going to call the clinic because I thought you wouldn't want to..."

"Yes, yes!" He says, picking you up and twirling you around. When he sets you back down he takes your face between his hands and kisses you deeply. The kiss was passionate, filled with love, unlike the hungry make out sessions that usually stole your nights.

"I'm gonna be a dad!" Rafe yelled as he jumped off the porch, full of energy.

You laughed, tears of joy filling your eyes as you heard the Pogues come back out on the porch. This went way better than you had expected.

"I take it that went well?" John B asks as he watches Rafe run around in excitement.

"I don't think I've ever seen Rafe so happy before," Sarah chuckles beside you.

"Whoo! Okay!" Rafe says as he comes back over to you, practically out of breath. He gets on his knees and places kisses along your stomach. "I'm taking you to lunch. What do you want to eat? You can have whatever you want, baby, on me."

"Rafe," You laugh, running your fingers through his hair as he keeps his lips pressed to your belly. "Can I at least shower first?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course baby. You wanna shower here? Or we could go to my house,"

"Oh God, please go to Tannyhill." Sarah says, the rest of the group agreeing with her. "This here is a shared shower."

You laugh. "Let me just grab some things and we can go,"

"Okay," Rafe agrees, smiling as he watches you disappear into the Chateau.

"You gonna take care of her? And that baby?" John B asks as he stands next to Rafe.

"Definitely," Rafe responds. "She has no idea how happy she makes me. But I'm gonna show her."

John B nods and offers a small smile.

"Ready!" You say as you come back out, duffle bag over your shoulder.

Rafe takes it from you immediately and goes to put it in his truck.

"Congratulations," John B says, pulling you into a hug.

"Thanks, JB," You smile. "I'll call you later, okay? Stay out of trouble!" You command as you walk towards the truck.

"Aye-aye," He says, saluting you.

You smile as Rafe helps you into the passenger seat. "You ready to go, Mama?" He asks, brushing his hand over your still flat stomach.

You smirk at the gesture. "Definitely."

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[yinyuedijun]

TOKYO VICE | part 2

“Do you remember,” Suo begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?” You tense. “No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs. “Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers and starts pulling the fabric down your sticky thighs—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.” (Or: Tired of your lies and self-deception, Suo takes matters into his own hands and forces the truth out of you.)

12.8k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au ft. yandere suo. mostly unrepentant smut, comedy, angst. warnings: sex work. nsft tags: afab reader, emotional sex, fingering, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pussyjob, just the tip, creampie. suo is mean and makes you cry but there's no degradation, he's just a bastard lol. he also manhandles you a lot and you sit in his lap. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

part 1 here

You're surprised at Suo’s indifference to your sex life.

A month has gone by, and he’s made no comment on your habit of sleeping with customers, nor on the hours during which you come home—which are now even later than usual, since you have express permission to sleep with people and have no need to rush back to the penthouse after your ‘appointments’. And it isn't as if he's ignoring the reality of your late nights either. In a stunning show of respect for your personal freedom, he now actively offers to arrange for someone to pick you up from whichever love hotel you'll end up at. (You always decline, of course—if you're going to pretend to be his wife, you'd rather pretend to be a faithful one.)

Ironically, you had initially thought that Suo’s approval wouldn't matter either way. You had found the sex with your clients to be so uninspiring that it made you miss celibacy, so you were planning on stopping. But it turned out that you were deeply affected by the experience of sitting in Suo’s lap as he talked about his expectation of deciding whose cocks you should be allowed to take. It did something horrible to your sex drive, and thus you turned to work as your only outlet.

You spent around three weeks desperately trying to find a customer to satisfy your urges—or at the very least, to fuck you in a way that could get you to stop thinking of Suo whenever you got even a little horny. You were faced with utter failure in this pursuit, and in the end, bleakly resigned yourself to the reality that your shameful attraction to your best friend is incurable. You’ve now given up on the love hotel visits and simply take care of your needs with a vibrator instead. At least this way, you can actually say Suo’s name while you cum, rather than constantly reminding yourself to say your customer’s name instead.

The freedom of letting yourself fantasise about Suo has been exhilarating, but terrible for your friendship. It’s just difficult to sit across from him at breakfast and act like you haven't touched yourself at the table while he was gone, fantasising about what it would be like if he bent you over it and fucked you dumb. But you are a decent actor—hostessing demands that of you—so you don't think Suo has caught onto your carnal desires for him. Hopefully, he never will.

Another couple of weeks pass like this. Things are so calm that you come to believe that Suo is genuinely fine with you having some degree of sexual freedom, at least at work. This, however, turns out to be nothing short of naïvete.

After all, Suo is never forceful when he's upset with your decisions—but he also never fails to redirect them.

One spring evening, you show up at the kyabakura and are told that you’re only to see one customer tonight, and that it will be a private session.

“But we don't do private sessions here,” you say, blissfully unaware of your imminent suffering, “and we don't even have private rooms at this establishment.”

To this, your mamasan responds that the club is making an exception for this one guest, and that this guest has rented out the rooftop bar just to see you. When you ask just who this person might be, a look of mild panic flashes through her eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and tells you to be careful. Just keep him happy and go home after, okay? she says. Don't go out for drinks, and definitely don't go to any love hotels. Don’t tell him your real name at any cost. You don't want to involve yourself with a man like him.

A sense of dread fills you as you step into the elevator.

A cool breeze greets you when you step onto the rooftop patio. Normally bustling with a raucous crowd, it almost feels eerie in its emptiness. Aside from the glow of the red light district beneath you and the city skyline in the distance, the only light is coming from the candles lighting one of the booths.

Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.

You aren't very surprised at the sight of Suo lounging on a leather couch, dressed in full criminal regalia—infamous eyepatch, tassel earrings, and all. Sakura once mentioned that this club is connected to some colour gang, so you figure that the manager likely recognized Gui Yanzhao on sight. He probably suffered a minor angina when he did. The mamasan herself has no criminal ties to your knowledge, but she was probably informed that one of her girls was to entertain a high-profile yakuza, and she was likely worried that you'd been maimed in the process. Gui Yanzhao has a bit of a reputation for being a sadist, after all.

While you appreciate her concern, it is not Suo’s history of violence that scares you, but his history of antagonising you. On good days, there's nothing that delights him more than seeing you flustered or off-kilter. On bad days, there’s nothing that consoles him like spiteful retaliation against whomever's managed to piss him off—and you have, without a doubt, managed to piss him off.

You groan as soon as you see him, fearing the worst for your mental health.

“What are you doing here,” you say, and Suo smiles.

“Oh? You're not happy to see me?”

“No,” you moan. “How are you even here right now? Aren't you worried about being assassinated or something? Who did you terrorise to get an entire rooftop bar to yourself?”

“I have a very cordial relationship with all the major organisations on Keisei Street and was promised immunity during my visit tonight,” Suo says neatly. “And I didn't terrorise anyone. I simply walked into this fine establishment and politely asked for a private space to enjoy with my preferred hostess.”

Neither of you need to mention that the sight of the tassel earrings alone would be enough to terrorise someone. The manager probably felt like he was being extorted just from being on the receiving end of Suo’s smile. Actually, you currently feel like you're being extorted too.

You spend a good few moments giving him a look of open distress, to which he smiles.

“You know,” he says, “for a top-ranking hostess, you're not showing much hospitality right now.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

You force yourself to stop, remembering that you are, in fact, at work. Despite your mixed feelings about your industry, at the end of the day, you pride yourself on your work ethic. You take your job very seriously, and your job right now is to entertain your customer—even if said customer is your fake yakuza husband who is toying with you as a cat would a mouse.

Resigning yourself to a night of probable humiliation (one of Suo's greatest passions in addition to lying for comedy), you walk over to sit yourself next to him. And just like in Red Dragon’s lounge, Suo overturns the decision by pulling you into his lap. Your eyes go wide as he settles you on top of him—because unlike the intimate space of that crime scene, this is expressly forbidden behaviour at your club.

Also, unlike that other night, you are currently wearing the shortest dress imaginable and the tiniest thong you own.

You find yourself shivering as Suo's hand settles on your lower back, which is fully exposed thanks to the cut of your dress. You try not to focus on the calloused press of his fingers against your bare skin, but this is an exceedingly difficult endeavour, as his touch has been featured in your sexual fantasies for the past several weeks. Worse yet—your dress is now riding up your ass, and your thong isn't doing much to cover you. Whatever material his pants are made of—light, delicate—feels incredibly good against your thighs too.

If this continues, you might cum on the spot.

“Wait,” you say, and Suo raises a brow.

“Oh?”

“You aren't supposed to touch the hostesses here.”

He smiles. “I'm sure this place might be able to make an exception for me. But only if you are personally willing to, of course.”

“...”

Making an exception for him, in your current situation, would be among the worst decisions you've ever made. But after two of the most sexually frustrating months of your life, you’re ready to make horrible decisions.

“Fine,” you say. “But you better not cheap out on the drinks. The mamasan will only overlook this if you make it worth our while.”

“Of course,” Suo says. “Though I think she’d overlook a lot of things for me regardless.”

Suo makes good on his promise and orders a great deal of alcohol. All top shelf, of course. He laughs that his goal is to bring you to the number 1 ranking with his patronage alone tonight. It’s a hideous display of wealth.

As you pour him an absurdly expensive drink (a Hibiki 30 year-old blended whiskey), you reminisce on how little money you both used to have as teens. He had to be so careful with his wallet whenever he felt like visiting you—or rather, checking in on you—at work. Especially after your master passed. The two of you were very good about staying financially independent, but there was something comforting about your master’s promise to support you if anything ever happened.

With him gone, you and Suo had only financial paranoia and each other.

You guess that might have affected Suo more than you thought. Perhaps he didn't join the yakuza to spite you, but to support you. Certainly, he seems to enjoy spoiling you right now—treating you to drinks that would easily clear a year of his salary as a teen, buying out an entire night of your time at a high end club, renting out a whole floor just so that he can have you to himself. When you point out that his tab must be getting catastrophic, he only laughs.

“I did always say that I wanted to spend money on you,” he recalls. It had been a running joke during your days at the girls’ bar, when you scolded him for paying 3000¥ per hour just to visit you. You hated that he was wasting money on the red light district; he always replied that it wasn't a waste, because it was money spent to see you.

You feel your stomach flutter at the comment. You didn't think he'd remember words from so long ago. As a teenager, you had a tendency of clinging onto small, inconsequential moments with him because they brought you so much joy. You’ve always assumed he would have forgotten them, writing them off as instances of shallow teasing—but if he remembers, then surely they meant something to him too?

This would all make you feel sentimental if you weren't outrageously horny.

Suo has kept you on his lap the whole evening, even as you pour him drinks. Every movement to serve him has you involuntarily rubbing on his thigh, and you're quite certain at this point that he's been lifting your skirt up inch by inch with every casual touch on your waist. You don't bother accusing him of it, though. He'd just give you an innocent look and say that it was an accident. What a horrible man.

Accident or not though, it doesn't change the fact that your nearly bare cunt is pressed right against him. You keep trying to shift positions to pull down your skirt or lift yourself off him, but each attempt only makes it worse—brings the soft fabric of his pants right against your pussy, or makes your clit drag against his thigh, with only your thong separating your bodies. You try to suppress your arousal, but to your overwhelming horror, you can't seem to control yourself. You feel yourself getting wet, folds quickly becoming slick as you’re forced to grind on him. Your body, already warm from all the cocktails and shots, grows even hotter as you squirm on his lap.

In a desperate move to regain some control, you fully get up to reach for another drink. But then you feel a pair of hands on your waist, and Suo pulls you back onto his leg—this time forcing you to straddle it. You can't help the whimper that leaves you as your dripping cunt is spread and pressed against him, your clit throbbing against his thigh.

You pray that he doesn't notice the noise, so of course he does.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Suo’s hand drifts over your waist and down to your thigh, where it ghosts over your bare skin. He leans in, and his voice is silky as he speaks into your ear: “You're moving around a lot. Do you need to get up?”

He’s giving you an out. It's quite considerate of him, as staying like this would not be a good decision. But for better or worse, you have a tendency to make bad ones.

“...no, I'm fine.”

“Good,” he says. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable at all. I'm happy to move if you'd like.”

As if demonstrating, Suo shifts the leg you're sitting on, directly rubbing it against your core. You try not to shudder, feeling yourself get even wetter, clenching around nothing.

Trying to ignore how empty you are, you grasp for other topics of conversation, something to distract you. A little scrambled from the alcohol and catastrophically aroused, you of course land on the one that's been making your sex drive unmanageable.

“Remember a month ago,” you say, “how you talked about choosing who gets to touch me?”

“Yes.” His palm is warm against your thigh. He isn't moving it, so there's plausible deniability, but the amused tone of his voice suggests that he knows what he's doing. “Does that bother you?”

Of course it should bother you. It's a level of control that's appalling even to your anxiously-attached ass. But it’s also making you wetter right now. You try not to cry—from misery or sexual frustration, you're not sure.

“Well, yeah. Come on, Suo—even you should know that's really weird of you.”

“I do,” he says, smiling like he isn't admitting to deranged behaviour. “But how else am I supposed to know you're safe? Or even aside from being safe—if your needs are being met.” His hand runs up and down your thigh before settling at the hem of your dress. “I wouldn't want you to go unsatisfied. Who knows what kind of people you'd seek out if that happened.”

You actively stop yourself from putting your face in your hands. The gall of him saying this after forcing you into extended celibacy is beyond words, especially as you're being forced to rub up on him, effectively ruining every attempt you've made not to think about him sexually for the past several years. There are many materially consequential reasons for your decision to not fuck Suo—you should not be soaked through your panties, your thighs sticky with need, as you sit on his lap.

“That's,” you say lamely, “not very normal of you.” Trying for a less sensual conversation, you go for the reliable topic Sakura’s romance radar: “Also, if satisfaction was your concern, why did you choose Sakura? I love that guy a lot, but he has literally no experience. And I think he'd blue-screen trying to keep a friend with benefits. You know he can't handle a fuckbuddy.”

You are not trying to be mean. What Sakura objectively needs for his first time is someone sweet and emotionally competent and, most importantly, not an absolute freak like you. This is a failure of your character, not his.

You can hear Suo’s smile in his reply: “I don't think you're giving him enough credit.”

“He has the social skills of a feral cat.”

Suo genuinely laughs. “Sure, when he first came to Makochi. But he's much better now. Plus, you have no room to talk. I mean”—his breath sweeps over your ear—“you used to be pretty wild yourself. I've just domesticated you is all… though you've been misbehaving lately.”

His words do something horrible to you. Trying to distract yourself from the mounting sexual tension, you turn to him to give him a biting retort, but you're abruptly stopped by the look in his eye. Distinctly hungry and unrepentant in its desire, his gaze roams openly and shamelessly along the curves of your body.

You feel like you're being eaten alive.

Plenty of customers have looked at you in such a way when you wear this outfit, but none have had this effect on you—which is to say, making you clench immediately.

You try not to cry. You actually will cum on the spot at this rate, and you don't think you could be subtle about it. You're barely keeping it together right now, with how your pussy keeps fluttering and dripping. Coupled with the way that the alcohol is melting the edges of your self-control, you're shocked you haven't at least moaned yet.

In a last ditch effort to save your friendship, as well as your rental (house arrest) situation, you slap a hand over his mouth.

“Stop that.”

Suo laughs. He grabs your wrist, lifts your palm away. “Why?”

Why? Because if you keep talking like that, I'll bend over and start begging you to fuck me! you think. But even in your inebriated, horny state, it feels like a poor idea to admit this aloud. You end up saying, “Hostesses aren't paid to flirt like this. Strictly speaking, we’re paid to be conversational partners.” You frown at him. “You're breaking a lot of club rules right now.”

This reprimand backfires on you, as you are suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts of breaking every single rule in this establishment with Suo, including the ones preventing you from climbing on top of him and riding him raw. You squirm at the thought, wishing you could close your legs rather than making a mess of your underwear (now a lost cause), but Suo’s grip stays firm on your waist.

He, himself, is unbothered by your scolding. “Okay,” he says simply. “Then I won't speak to you as a hostess. I want to speak to you, seriously, as a friend.”

His smile is so disarming, it makes you nervous. But he sounds earnest enough for you to be curious, and anyway, you're desperate for something to distract you from your wet cunt.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, “What do you have to say, as a friend?”

“I just have one question.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

His hand comes to rest in your thigh again. He leans in, breath so hot against your ear that your heart jumps.

“I can accept that you wanted to see customers just to satisfy your urges. But tell me why you didn't come to me first.”

You freeze up. Look at him, wide-eyed.

“Wh-what?”

Suo just smiles. Looks so fucking innocent you wonder if you misheard, but his voice is sharp when he replies: “Let me put it another way. Why have we never slept together?”

For some reason, you’ve never thought that he'd ask you this question point blank, even though you've asked it to yourself many times. It takes you several moments to piece together a response, during which Suo’s expression turns distinctly wicked. A sign that he smells blood.

“Why would you think we would have?” you ask carefully.

“Because we’ve both clearly thought about it. You especially.”

You try to keep a straight face. “No I haven't. I don't know what you're talking about.” You raise a brow. “How would you even know?”

“Because,” he says, hand inching up your thigh, “you’re so wet that I can feel it.”

You're mortified.

Shame floods your body, first because of the accusation, and then because you know it's true. You were tipsy enough not to think about this, but now—sobering up from sheer panic— you're acutely aware of how you've soaked through the fabric beneath you. Something that Suo had certainly known, and chose to encourage.

What a horrible man.

When you don't reply, he tilts his head. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Do you want me to show you?”

His hand is moving so slowly, you know he's giving you another out. You could easily get off his lap. You could even slap him and call him a sleazy drunk and grouse at him to go home. You could forgive him in the morning for coming onto you and say he'd obviously made an inebriated mistake, as opposed to a very calculated decision. Your friendship would stay mostly intact. His grip on you might tighten, but that would be fine. You would still get to stay with him.

And that's all you've ever wanted. Just to stay with him.

But you're so wet, so empty, so aching. You want to be touched. You want to be touched by Suo, and only by Suo. You want to be fucked by him, to be owned by him, to be ruined by him. You’ve wanted it so badly and so long that you can't even remember when it started—only that you want it to end.

So instead of moving away, you sit there and endure the humiliation of getting your cunt inspected by him.

Suo hums as he opens your legs. You suppress a whimper as a finger moves along your folds, at the noise it makes as it runs through your slick. “Look, you’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. He finds your clit—swollen, neglected, and you whimper as he starts to draw slow, lazy circles around it. “Poor thing.”

“It’s only because you had me grinding on you the whole night,” you say through gritted teeth. “It doesn't—ngh—doesn’t mean I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”

You sound pissed enough that you'd convince anyone else, but you know, even without seeing his face, that Suo can tell you're bullshitting.

“You’re not a good liar,” he remarks. A fine teacher even when humiliating people, Suo can't help but add, “If you have to tell a lie, at least come up with a believable one.”

“What makes it unbelievable?” you reply, words clipped off by a sharp inhale as he starts rubbing your pussy.

“Well,” he starts nonchalantly, as if he isn't toying with your cunt, “after you were targeted in that succession conflict, I put hidden cameras in the area, and also in our suite.”

Your eyes go wide. Even in your aroused state, the implications are making you panic. “You—you what?”

“It was for security purposes,” he dismisses casually, as if he's not admitting to a serious invasion of privacy. “Only near the front door and the common areas. I just wanted to catch intruders and any suspicious behaviour from my men. But imagine my surprise”—you feel his fingers start to press into your cunt—“when I instead caught you fucking yourself on the couch and moaning my name.”

You’re mortified. Humiliated. Mind racing with every instance you were horny and stupid enough to touch yourself in a common space. You think about yelling at him about the cameras, but then you feel two fingers sinking into you, and now you aren't thinking about much at all.

Your mind goes blank as you're stretched open by him. Your cunt is so wet, so empty, but the feeling still makes you whine. Your brow furrows, and you give him a pleading look. Slowly, please.

“Don't worry,” he says in a soothing tone, “I know you can handle this. I've seen you take much bigger. Though”—he shifts, pulls you so you're in between his legs, and now you can feel the length of him against you, hard and aching and huge, what the fuck—“maybe not big enough.”

You tighten around his fingers as he grinds against you. You want him inside you so badly, it hurts. Suo laughs when he feels your desperation, and he sounds so amused that you can't help but feel ashamed. But even more than shame, you feel aroused. You take the rest of his fingers easily, down to the knuckle.

“What the fuck, Suo,” you eventually manage through your panting, though not with much bite. “You weren't—ahh—meant to see any of that.”

“Sorry,” he says, sounding deeply unapologetic. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't watch much, and I deleted all of it. I didn't need to see that to know you have feelings for me.”

You tense. “What feelings?” you ask, and Suo stops. He pulls his fingers out of you—you breathe sharply at the loss—and manhandles you until you're straddling his lap. Forces you to look at him, into his one eye. It's knife-sharp, brutal, but familiar. You don't struggle, nor do you feel uneasy.

But you do feel like prey.

“Do you remember,” he begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?”

Fuck.

“No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs.

“Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.”

He smiles at you. Actually looks kind and even sounds earnest. What a fucking sociopath. You allow him to slide your underwear down your legs, kicking them off. Now your pussy is completely bare to him, and you can hear the way his breath stops as he touches it again. Three of his fingers push in this time, and you pant openly at the stretch, leaning against him as your body trembles from the stretch. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching your reactions—your whimpers, your sighs, the way your eyelashes flutter when he brushes that one spot inside you.

“I’ve always had feelings for you,” he starts, using that nonchalant, delicate tone—the specific one that suggests danger, “and I know you’re too smart to have missed that. I’d be fine with it if you didn't return them, but you do.”

“I don't,” you protest, and then his fingers curl and press into your g-spot. You're cut off immediately, gasping at the sudden wave of heat in your belly.

A hand comes up to your chin. He forces you to look at him. “I said I wanted to have an honest conversation, remember.”

“I–I am being honest, I—” Your voice breaks as he starts pumping his fingers. It's slow, gentle, but precise. Tension builds in you at an alarming rate, your thighs getting as slick and messy as his hand. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, breathe in his cologne and gasp into his skin, and your mind goes hazy from the euphoria of his touch. Sure, you've hugged Suo before, been held by him before, and god knows you've been touched like this by a ton of other people before—but it feels different now. It feels different when it's Suo who's touching you, different when you’re this close to him while he's drawing all this pleasure out of you. When one hand feels so good inside you and the other one is holding you so intimately.

“Suo,” you whimper, overwhelmed by hot tension in your belly, “I-I’m close, I’m close, oh fuck—

He stops.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, he’s withdrawing his fingers, and all the heat in you is melting away. Your orgasm lost, you come down from your high—nerves frayed, emotions taut.

“Suo,” you say, “what the fuck?”

He gives you a smile. It almost looks nice. “I'm not letting you cum until you tell me the truth.”

You’re going to cry.

You're so wet, so empty, so desperate, and now you feel oddly afraid. You don't like the way he's staring you down. You don't like this line of questioning, this bullshit of engaging with other people's feelings. You’ve never liked it. But you need—need—him to fuck you. You need his fingers inside you and you need to cry into his neck while you finish.

You say, very quietly, “Please, Suo.”

“Please, what?”

It's funny. You've performed begging and crying and submission for countless clients, sometimes during annoyingly rough sessions. You've done it for years. But nothing has ever felt so humiliating as this moment, when you ask your best friend, in the smallest voice possible, “Please touch me.”

“No. Not until you start being honest with me.”

Suo's mouth curls at the devastated look you give him. You hardly even notice that he's adjusting you, having you straddle his thigh again—this time, facing him. You don't register it until your cunt is pressed into the wet spot you left earlier and he's saying, “You can move if you'd like. But I'm not touching you.”

“You’re fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, but your pussy is throbbing and you're desperate for release. So you finally do what you were desperately trying to stop yourself from doing the whole night—you start grinding on him. Like a fucking animal in heat. It's embarrassing, especially because his leg feels so good against you. The friction on your pussy makes you pant, your eyes squeezing shut as your clit finally gets some pressure. It makes up for the way he’s looking at you, which is sly, handsome, and rage-inducing all at once.

“You really do need to be touched,” he remarks softly. “You said your customers satisfied you. Was that true? Did they properly fuck you?”

“N-no,” you gasp. Your mind feels so cottony now that you're getting some relief. You can barely think, and definitely not enough to lie. “It was—it was—fuck, I never came.”

He hums, satisfied. “There—see? Telling the truth isn't so hard. You can do it again.”

He sounds so condescending. You would ordinarily hate it, but for some reason, it's going straight to your pussy right now, making you drip so much you know you've ruined his pants. You’re getting close, too, just by rubbing yourself on his leg. It doesn't feel quite as good as when his fingers were in you, but it’s something. And it’s making it hard to focus on what he's saying.

“It’s fine if you can't be honest about your feelings,” Suo continues. “Let's assume you're telling the truth, and all you want to do is fuck me. Why haven't you?”

You try to answer him, but you can't. You're too focused on the roll of your hips against his leg. There's too much tension, too much heat. You melt against him again, breathing heavily into his shoulder as you tighten around nothing. His hands come to your waist, as if grounding you, and somehow this makes everything feel even better. You start panting, babbling, I'm close, I'm getting close, Suo, Suo—

His grip tightens, and he stops you in place. You cry in frustration—no tears, but the noise you make is broken.

“Answer my question,” he says. You feel a hand glide along your bare skin, stopping at your inner thigh. “Answer me and I'll touch you.”

“Okay,” you say, as desperate as you are distressed. “Okay, I'll do anything. Anything.”

“Good.” He sounds so pleased.

You put your arms around his neck, for no reason other than you want to. Lifting your hips, you part your legs for him, and you feel so relieved at just the touch of his hand that you sigh—even though all he's doing is running a finger along your slick folds.

You shudder as his fingers play with your sex. Lean your head on his shoulder as he starts to move. You’re so desperate that you start grinding against his hand, whining for him.

“Well, then,” he murmurs. “Tell me why you didn't come to me. This is all you wanted, isn't it?” He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you squirm. “Just to get off, right? I could have done that. You'd have enjoyed it more.”

“It”—your eyelids flutter shut—“it would have been too complicated. Y-you’re my boss, and I pay rent to y-you, and we’ve been friends for so long, I didn't want to make it weird—”

Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.

The contact is so sudden that you yelp. It only stings a little, but it makes your clit ache. The noise it makes is so wet, so filthy, telling of your desperation. And to your shame—even though you have never once in your life enjoyed being handled roughly by your customers—your cunt starts leaking in response.

You whimper, about to burst from frustration. You need to be touched so bad. You need to be touched by him so bad, and you need to cum on his cock or else you'll lose your fucking mind.

“Suo,” you complain, or beg, and you don't even realise that you're tearing up until he swipes his thumb under your eye.

“Try again,” he says gently, but not kindly. “The truth this time, and then I'll make you cum. Why didn't you come to me first? These past few months, or any other time?”

You don't answer him. “Suo, please—” And he moves back so that you're no longer leaning against him. Your lip trembles at the loss of the warmth, which somehow feels worse than the loss of your orgasm. An actual tear rolls down your cheek, and he doesn't wipe this one away.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. Instead of replying, you try to reach for him—wanting to be pressed against his body again, wanting him to draw pleasure out of yours again—but he stills you with his hands.

You feel devastated.

Out of horny, emotional desperation, and an all-consuming need to be fucked, you admit, “I was just scared!”

This is the worst mistake you've ever made.

The minute the words dislodge from your throat, you feel yourself choke up. You don't know why. All you know is that you suddenly can't hold back your tears from your sexual frustration, which for some reason is starting to feel distinctly like a non-sexual kind of angst, which is also strangely painful for your chest.

Because now that you've said it out loud, you can't ignore it.

You want to hide. You want to crawl out of his lap and run out of the establishment. Surely, the mamasan will forgive you for leaving a shift with such a frightening and horrible man, who is currently trying to extort your feelings out of you. But Suo’s grip is solid and unforgiving on you, and all you can do is squirm.

“Scared of what?” Suo asks. His voice has gone soft. Actually soft—not in a way that suggests danger, but a way that suggests you're loved. It makes you tremble.

His arms circle you, and one rubs at your back. It makes you relax very slightly. Or at the very least, it makes you stop wanting to bolt.

“What were you scared of?” he prompts again.

A feeling of defeat washes over you. Suo will figure you out sooner or later. He always does. So you tell him, very quietly, “I was scared that—that you'd leave me.”

You realise that you just stuttered. You stuttered because you're crying. You're actually, genuinely crying. Not from sexual frustration, but because you're just frustrated in general. And miserable. You've been chronically miserable for most of your life, and that misery has had nowhere to go until now.

You press your face into Suo’s shoulder, and he lets you. You breathe deeply in an attempt to stop crying, his cologne washing over you. It's nice, but what feels most comforting is just the scent of him. You're used to it from the days before he'd ever thought about using a fragrance, let alone a fragrance that would bankrupt the average person. It's calming, even when overlayed with ambergris and vanilla. Familiar.

Your breathing evens out a little—but only a little.

“Why would I leave you?” His voice is so kind, patient. More tears bead on your lashes.

“Because you might not want me anymore.” You sound so fragile. Shit, you are fragile. You can't stop the splintering feeling in you, the same one that ate at you two months ago when you thought he was going to leave you. “You could get tired of me or resent me or get bored with me. You could—you could want to throw me away, for no reason. Or—” You breathe in sharply, clinging to him harder.

“Or?”

“Or you could die—you joined the yakuza, so you could die. Why did you do that?” An actual sob leaves you. His shirt is getting wet. You ruined so many of his silk changshan like this in the past, when your boyfriend cheated on you and when your parents kicked you out and when you slept with your fifth customer.

And when your master died.

“I'm still so fucking mad at you for it,” you bite out around your tears. “If you got fucking killed—oh my god, I can't even think about it. I can't—I couldn't take it if—if I kissed you, and we had sex, and then I didn't have you anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the only thing I have.” You squeeze your eyes shut, a terrible realisation hitting you. “And…”

“And?”

“And,” you say, voice breaking, “I think because I love you?”

You know it as soon as you voice it. You do love him. Not just platonically, but in the way where you want to hold his hand and kiss him and marry him. In the way a miserable nineteen year old girl is so in love with her miserable best friend that she refuses to leave him despite how terrifying he’s becoming. You loved him in this way before you realised you wanted to have sex with him, and even after that, you loved him so much that it didn't matter that he wasn't having sex with you.

You love him so much it disgusts you.

You want to hide, but Suo forces you to look at him. He brushes away your tears, cups your face. The Pavlovian response takes over: your heart rate slows, and you calm down.

“There,” he says gently. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

He’s wrong. You bet he knows he's wrong. That was objectively one of the worst experiences of your life. You feel wrung out, tenderised. You never thought you'd say any of that. You're not sure you knew most of that.

But in Suo’s arms, plied open with his words and his hands, you actually find yourself shaking your head. You lean into the touch of his palm.

“I love you,” he continues, his tone so authoritative and calm that it leaves no room for doubt, “probably to the point that it should scare you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you say quietly.

“And we won't be separated. I won't allow anything to take you away from me. Do you understand that too?”

You make a noise, halfway between a relieved sigh and another sob. This declaration should not be a surprise from a man who’s effectively locked you up in his house. Still—your heart feels so light when you hear someone say, for the first time in your life, that they’ll stay with you no matter what. It's like Suo has just unearthed a weight that you didn't know you'd been carrying.

“I’ll try,” you reply, voice small.

“Good.” He strokes your cheek. “Do you want to keep going?”

It’s absurd. You just cried and confessed something terrifying. With anyone else, this would be an experience so horrifying that you'd leave right now and never come back. Your sexual desire should not just be gone, but permanently erased. At the very least, you shouldn't feel the slightest bit horny.

But somehow, being gutted by Suo hasn't left you feeling bad. It's left you feeling lighter. Kind of like you've been purged. You feel exhausted, but in a malleable way. Dazed and relieved to be in his lap. Your thighs are still embarrassingly sticky, heart still embarrassingly wobbly, and you just heard him say that he loves you.

Now you want to hear him say it while he's cumming inside you.

“Yeah,” you admit immediately, pathetically. You sniffle.

“You're sure?” Another stroke. “I want to hear you say it clearly. What do you want to do?”

Your dignity is gone. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiles. A fond hum leaves him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a flutter in your belly. “I'll take care of you now.”

He kisses you this time, before he touches you. On the neck, on your jaw. You bare your nape to him, shivering at the feeling of his lips on your jugular, at his nipping teeth on your skin. You realise he's leaving marks, and with each one, you shudder. It feels so intimate. You're on a rooftop bar, in a skanky hostessing dress, crying and strung out—but this is the closest thing you've ever gotten to one of your fantasies about him. Not the nasty ones that you think about when you're home by yourself, but the ones you think of when you're in bed with various salarymen. The ones where you get to lie with him in bed and press your lips to his.

“Suo,” you start.

“Hayato,” he corrects you. “You're my fiancée now, remember? We should be on a first name basis.”

Your stomach flips. “Hayato,” you try again, breathless. “Please.”

He takes a moment to reply, busy sucking another mark into your skin. “Please, what?”

You hesitate. Suo pulls back, looking at you. You whine, feeling shy all of a sudden. You flirt for a living and yet you feel embarrassed about your request. It's humiliating.

“Please, what?” he repeats. His mouth is curled in a smile, and you can't tell whether it's endeared or entertained. “Please let you cum? Please fuck you?”

“Please kiss me,” you say, in a small voice.

Suo pauses.

“What?”

“Please kiss me,” you beg. Close to tears again, for some reason you don't know. You think it surprises him as much as it does you.

It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, he gives you a look that’s fucking ravenous.

His thumbs away the wetness from your eyes. “You're so cute sometimes. Did you know that?”

You flush. Plenty of customers have called you cute, but none have had you feeling so indignant nor shy.

“I’m not,” you reply, “and stop that.”

“But it's true. And I want you to know it.”

Suo presses his mouth to yours before you can respond. You're so eager for him that you part your lips immediately. Your instinct is to make your first kiss with him messy and desperate, but he’s in full control, and he’s taking his time. His tongue is careful and precise. Full of intention. His lips are slow, languid, and lazy, like he's savouring the taste of you. A hand plays with the strap of your dress. You feel him slide it off your shoulder—the other one quickly follows—but you’re so absorbed in his kiss, you hardly pay attention.

You're vaguely aware of the breeze against your bare chest. One of his hands moving up, feeling out your curves. He hums into your mouth when his fingers ghost over your nipples, and they harden under his touch.

“Suo,” you whine as he teases them, and he pinches one of them, watching as you squirm.

“Hayato,” he corrects you promptly, and you give him a worn, teary look.

“Hayato.”

“Yes?”

“I need more,” you say quietly.

He smiles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Be patient,” he teases you. “I’m getting there.”

He kisses a line along your jaw, down your neck. Traces your collarbone with the path of his mouth, works his way down to your breasts. At the same time you feel the heat of his tongue on your nipple, his hand reaches between your legs. You're so wet already that he doesn't need to work you open again—just sinks his fingers inside you until you're sighing for him.

You discover that when he's not antagonising you, Suo is frighteningly efficient with pleasuring you. He learns quickly how you like your tits played with, and how to fuck you so well with his fingers until you're gushing around them and keening. He said he'd take care of you, but you think he's mostly forcing all this pleasure from your body for his own enjoyment. There's no other explanation for how he keeps bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, swallowing each of your whines and complaints with his mouth. The only time he isn't kissing you is when you're begging—and you don't miss the way his breathing deepens every time you do.

But no matter how much you beg, he isn’t letting you cum.

“Look at the mess you're making,” he murmurs as he plays with your cunt. You're sitting between his legs again, your back against his chest. You can feel the length of his cock against your ass, and you hear how his breath hitches every time you squirm against it. Except for that one tell, he sounds completely unaffected by what he's doing—forced you to open your legs wide for him, spread your glistening folds to tease you. The leather beneath your ass is wet, ruined by your need.

“Hayato,” you whine.

“Just a little longer,” he promises, “and then I'll let you cum.”

Your mind is so fogged with pleasure at this point that you can't focus on anything other than Suo’s touch. You’ve actually forgotten where you are—not a truly private space, but part of a club. The girls would normally only come up if you put in an order, but you haven't for a while now.

Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.

You tense as soon as you hear the door open. You recognize the server—she knows you well, by face, stage name, and real name. Your eyes go wide as she calls for you. You try to sit up, close your legs, but Suo grabs one of your thighs and forces it open.

“Suo, wait—”

You whimper, incapable of words when his fingers push into you again. He starts fucking you with them, and in earnest this time—curling his fingers until they're pushing into your g-spot, doing it over and over and over. Your eyes roll back and you stop struggling, and Suo takes the opportunity to touch you with his other hand too, playing with your clit. A strangled moan leaves you as the heat in your gut ratchets up. Pleasure swells in your belly; you feel like you're going to burst.

“Suo,” you cry, tears pricking your eyes, “wait, wait, my coworker—wait, I think—I think I'm gonna—”

“Go ahead,” he says into your ear, voice silky, and he pushes against your sweet spot in a way that gives you no choice but to obey him.

You cum so hard that you squirt all over the seat. Your whole body is wracked with intense pleasure—hips bucking violently, legs twitching, crying so loudly and shamelessly that your coworker naturally hears. She catches you spread wide open in Suo’s lap, his fingers deep in your messy, swollen cunt as you drench them.

Her tray clatters to the floor.

Fighting the mindless haze that your body is in, you glance at the other girl, whose hand is over her mouth. She looks appalled. She’s going to yell at you. But then you then watch, in real time, as her eyes travel to your customer’s face and she realises who he is. If she was red when she saw the two of you, she's now a pale white.

“Did you come to check on us?” Suo asks. He sounds amused. She flinches at his voice, and actually takes a step backward. “We’re fine for now. We’ll order something in a bit, and call you up here as usual.”

“O-okay,” she says, voice high and tense. “I—I’ll leave you two, then. Please—please enjoy yourself, sir. We'll be available in case you require any other services.” And she walks away briskly, almost in a run. She doesn't even bother to stop the expressly forbidden act that you're engaged in.

Once she’s gone, Suo allows you some dignity. He pulls his fingers out of you, lets you catch your breath.

“Oops,” he says. “It’s too bad they caught us. I suppose they won't want to keep you on as an employee, since you broke such an important rule.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your emotional and sexual pliability quickly dissipates, replaced by disbelief.

“You—you did that on purpose,” you say between pants, too fucked out to be truly angry, but still appalled.

Suo raises a brow, gives you an innocent look. “Did I? I was just making you cum, like you've been begging all night. It was just unfortunate timing.” He then smiles, which makes him look incredibly kind despite the apparent sadism of his person. “But it's fine. They're going to fire you for this, but you know my club will always take you back.”

You close your eyes and groan. “You’re horrible.”

“I am, aren't I?” Suo puts his arms around you, kisses you on the shoulder, his voice getting low. “But this is a better arrangement, don't you think? You won't need to see customers this way. Every time you need relief, you can come upstairs and I'll give you my cock instead.” He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is, and you whimper. He laughs, probably entertained at how desperate you sound. “Or maybe I'll just make you take it whenever I feel like it. I think at the end of every shift makes sense, doesn't it? Since that's how often you've been touching yourself on the couch.”

“S-suo.”

“It’s Hayato now, remember. What is it, dear?”

He sounds so smug, mocking you. You should be furious. But in your fucked out state, all you can focus on is the idea of being forced to take Suo's cock every night. Despite already being ruined, your pussy starts throbbing again. You squirm and press your thighs together, trying to get it to stop—you’re so fucking tired—and you bleakly realise that you can't control your body’s reactions around him. You're getting wet again. It makes you want to cry.

“Hayato,” you whimper, on the verge of tears.

“Ah, you addressed me properly. Good.” He’s so satisfied. “What is it?”

“I…”

“You?”

“I”—your voice is so small and embarrassed, you can hardly believe it—“I want you to fuck me.”

He feigns shock, as if he wasn't actively provoking this. “Really? But you just came.” A hand prods between your legs. You obediently spread them for him, and he checks your pussy with two of his fingers. You moan a little at the intrusion, but there's no resistance at all.

Your cunt, still dripping, tightens around him, and he laughs softly.

“You really do need a cock in you. Who knew you had such a needy pussy.” He curls his fingers. Probably feeling the way it makes you gush, delighting in the gasp it draws out of you. “No wonder you have to use that toy every day.”

You're about to die of embarrassment. “Hayato. Please just fuck me.”

Suo turns you so that you can look at him. He’s wearing a kind, benevolent face when he says, “No.”

“...what?”

“I'm not going to give you my cock.” He hums, contemplative. “Not for a while, I think.”

“B-but,” you say, genuinely upset, “but you were just talking about doing that at work.”

“Sure—after we get married. It's only proper, don’t you think?”

“What?” Your eyes are wide in disbelief. “You—you just made me cum with your fingers. In a public space.”

“Yes. But that's different from letting you have my cock. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do that before we’re wedded.” He can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he bullies you. “I'm sure you can wait until the summer, right? Since that's the season you chose for us. August, I think you told Nirei.”

“Hayato—”

“Actually,” he muses, easily sliding a third finger into you, making your voice clip off in a whimper, “I think you shouldn’t be allowed to have anything in you until then. Except for my fingers and tongue, of course. But no toys, and no other men either. That definitely wouldn't be proper.”

“I'm going to,” you say spitefully—and tearfully. “If you don't fuck me right now, I will sleep with other people.”

“I don't think you want to find out the consequences if you do.”

“How would you even—ngh—know?”

“Good question.” He starts pumping his fingers, and to your horror, your cunt needily swallows them with each motion, your body as desperate as he's been saying. “I guess I'll need to check your pussy every night. See if it's been stretched out by someone else’s cock. Maybe upstairs in the lounge at the end of each night, so I'll know that you haven't fucked a customer during a shift. Clearly, it's not impossible that you would.”

You try not to sob. Not only are his words utterly humiliating, they're making you wetter. After fucking so many people in so many ways, you didn't know it was possible for you to feel this much shame during sex—but then again, shaming people is one of Suo’s specialties.

You give him the teariest look possible, because by now you've figured out that he likes seeing you cry. Sadistic motherfucker. You're happy to use it to your advantage though.

He gets that hungry look in his eye again. “Please, Hayato,” you beg, voice trembling with need, “I want more. I thought I was your beautiful wife already.” You grind your ass against his cock, and he inhales sharply. “Don't you wanna cum in your wife’s pussy?”

Suo stops, deeply affected—just as you guessed he'd be. After making you his fake wife in both his criminal life and his civilian one, it's painfully obvious that the man is obsessed with marrying you. You'd make fun of him if you weren't so horny. Or humbled.

He only allows himself speechlessness for a second. He hums soon after, delicately wiping the tears out of your eyes. “You've been good enough that I guess I can reward you. I won't fuck you, but”—he shifts away, and you can hear his pants unzipping—“I’m sure you'll enjoy yourself anyway.”

Suo wasn't lying earlier. His cock is bigger than any toy you've ever used. It's pretty, too. Curved and long and flushed at the head. Glistening with prespend, which has pearled up at the tip. You think you might be salivating. For a minute, you contemplate asking if you can feel it in your throat, but then Suo’s lying down and moving you on top of him. When his cock nudges at your folds, you can’t help your excitement. You squirm, trying to sink onto his length.

His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.

You’re about to whine at him about this, but he doesn't give you the chance. “If you try to ride me,” he says, in a voice so cold that you know he's not joking, “I'm not touching you until we’re married, and I'm not letting you touch yourself either.”

“...”

With anyone else you'd call bullshit, but you know that Suo is both crazy and petty enough to actually achieve this.

“Okay.” You sound and feel mollified. “I'll behave.”

He smiles. “Good,” he says cheerfully. “Just stay like that, then. I’ll take care of you.”

You listen to him, mostly because you're incredibly excited about getting pussy inspections and you'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. And you don't expect it to be a big deal, anyway. While your sex drive has been a constant source of grief for you throughout your life, you don't really have problems controlling any specific impulses in bed when you truly need to. You’re used to giving your customers whatever they want and, if you're lucky, getting off from it. You figure this will be the same.

You find out very quickly that it isn't.

You need to stay still. You can’t sink down on him. Two easy orders that are extraordinarily difficult when Suo is the one beneath you. You have to actively stop your hips from moving when you feel the silky head of his cock press into your folds, which are still dripping with your slick. Suo’s breath hitches when he runs the tip along your opening, drawing wet noises every time his cock head catches on your needy hole, smearing his precum all over it. All you want is to push back on him and let your pussy swallow his cock. You’re aching for it, and you know he is too. If you sank down on him now, he'd lose control and fuck you raw until he was cumming inside you. And then he'd probably keep going after that, not letting you move until you were stuffed full and dripping with his spend. Both of you know it.

But you don't do that. You're good for him. You sigh, just trying to enjoy the feeling of his length rubbing against you. How he's twitching and throbbing against you, how he wants as equally much to be inside you—but pulls back every time. Your mind goes a little fuzzy with the drawn out, low hum of pleasure, and you close your eyes.

Then he starts pushing into you.

“H-Hayato?” You whimper at the intrusion, at being made to take something so thick without warning. “I thought you weren't gonna—”

“I'm not,” he says. His breathing is heavier, his words strained, but his voice is still commanding when he says, “Don’t move.”

Suo doesn't give you the whole thing, just the tip. It is much harder to control yourself like this—when you can feel yourself getting stretched by the head of his cock, already so fat and heavy, but you don't get filled up by it. It makes you aware of how empty you are, and how wet you're getting. You bury your face into his neck and make a noise that's both tearful and pathetic.

It's not acting when you whine, in a watery, miserable way, “Please, Hayato. I need your cum in me.”

It's probably the crying that gets him. He inhales sharply, thrusting maybe a little deeper than intended. You groan at the extra inch of cock, eyes rolling back, and can't help the way your pussy tightens and drips, trying to suck him in.

“Fuck,” he says, and then he pulls out.

He lays you flat on your back. Before you can get so much as a word out, he's between your legs and pressing his cock against your entrance. For possibly the happiest moment of your life, you think Suo is going to fuck you—but instead he starts pushing the slick head of his cock right against your neglected clit.

You aren't going to complain.

You whimper as he starts rubbing against your sex, leaving his prespend all over your swollen bud. It makes you squirm, grinding yourself against it, and you press your legs together to get some more pressure for the both of you. Soon his cock is sliding between your thighs, getting them all sticky with his prespend. You can feel the length of him hot and slick against your folds, heavy and throbbing.

You've never cum like this before. It was never enough stimulation when your customers made you do this, which nearly all of them have. But the pressure on your clit and on your folds is shockingly intense as the two of you move, enough to make you whimper as a familiar tension builds. It's not as overwhelming as when his fingers were inside you, but it's enough for you to start panting at the tension in your belly. You can hear Suo’s breath picking up as you start to whine, and he watches you, almost predatorial, as another orgasm crashes over you. You moan his name as you cum, squeezing a few more tears out of your eyes.

He stares at your flustered, wet face as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance again, fisting himself as it flutters and drips in the aftershock of your orgasm. Suo’s been hard for so long, for the whole time he's teased and bullied you—you aren't surprised at how close he already is. Especially not when you start talking about how much you need his cum in you, how empty your pussy feels without it, how badly you want your husband to fill you up. All with your mascara smeared and your lip trembling, a sight that makes him throb.

Suo groans as he finally cums. You can feel his cock twitching, warmth spurting out onto your folds, and then into your pussy as he thrusts shallowly into you. You pull him down needily as he fills you, and he indulges you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

When he pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you, all the way down to the couch. You make a happy noise at the mess he's made of your hole, giving him a lovestruck, dreamy expression.

“You should do that every night after you're done checking my pussy,” you sigh.

Suo’s mouth curls, and breathes out a kind of laugh. He holds your face, and one of his tassels brush against the shell of your ear as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll do it if you're good for me.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour until our wedding night,” you promise, voice affectionate.

Suo gives you a fond look. His expression is so sentimental. You think he’s going to say something sweet.

“Alright,” he replies. “Then be good for me and keep the rest of that inside you, okay? Let’s not make a mess of these floors. I don't want to get blacklisted from this club.”

You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.

“You're fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, and he laughs and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you. He doesn't stop until you're placated and horny again.

Suo takes his sweet time pushing his cum into you as deeply as possible, saying that it's to make sure you don't lose any of it, but really so he can draw another orgasm out of you. Knowing that the mamasan might take pity on you and think that you were coerced into degrading sexual acts by a terrifying yakuza client, he makes sure to order a drink beforehand, calling up a server. (I don't want to be a bad patron, he hums as he looks at the tablet, and I said I'd get you to the number 1 ranking, right?) It subsequently looks, sounds, and is completely consensual when you're found pulling at Suo’s hair, keening as he fingers his cum into you while sucking on your clit.

This leaves you with no hope of continued employment on all of Keisei Street.

To add insult to injury, you do make a mess of the floors, despite Suo’s conscientious efforts to avoid this—though it's not as bad as the one you left on the couch. You also can't find your thong anywhere, which you guess is something else that the mamasan won’t appreciate when she finds it. Still, for the rest of the night, everyone shows Suo nothing but the utmost respect and highest quality customer service. They even ask how he found your company and if he has any feedback for you. He praises your conversational skills, karaoke abilities, and how capable you were in catering to his many needs. He also lets them know that you'll be resigning.

Hanzo and Shuuhei are waiting to pick you up, bringing the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. This time, Suo doesn't use it to interrogate you; he instead uses it to kiss you and tease you and discuss wedding plans. If it'll be indoors or outdoors. If you'll have a big reception or a small one. If it'll be a traditional wedding, or if you’ll want a Chinese one like the one your master would have maybe liked to see. You settle on having a Shinto ceremony and a Chinese-style reception. Having been raised Chinese, whenever Suo imagined marrying during his teenage years, you were always in a red qipao. His master even once told him that if he managed to win your heart, he'd organise a tea ceremony and act in the role of Suo’s father.

After disclosing these facts (the first of which makes your heart weak, and the second of which leaves it aching), he asks about any long-standing things you've always wanted to do with him as a couple. If you had any silly or indulgent daydreams about your future with him, and what they were like.

“I don't know,” you admit. “I guess after you applied to teacher’s college, I liked the idea of marrying you, and doing all the domestic things you talked about. Though you were just joking at the time.”

You don't really expect him to remember much about this particular line of teasing. Sure, the man is currently obsessed with marrying you, and maybe he daydreamed about it a little bit when he was younger—but he mostly treated the idea as a funny joke when he was a teenager. All of the teasing has probably blurred together for him over the years. Certainly, it has for you.

But you've never been able to forget this particular memory. It’s one of those small, inconsequential moments that you find yourself incapable of letting go to this day. You loved hearing him talk about getting married, even though it hurt immensely that it was probably just teasing. You loved it because you wanted it. You wanted Suo to teach people because you knew he was good at it and it would make him genuinely happy. You wanted to stop working in the red light district and make a nice and safe home for Suo, just as he'd made a nice and safe home for you. And you wanted to marry him and kiss him and have sex with him and only him for the rest of your life.

You wanted it so badly, it still makes you heart ache to think about it.

He was definitely just teasing you, though. Suo was a sane person at the time, and sane people do not actually plan a marriage and life with someone before dating them or even fucking them. Most importantly, a sane person wouldn't hold onto such a silly joke for so long. Oh, you expect him to say, laughing. You're right, I had nearly forgotten.

But all he does is give you a smile. It's one of his strange, enigmatic ones.

“No, I was quite serious about it,” Suo says, looking right at you.

You stare at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He's being so straightforward, so earnest. Your typical reaction would be to feel flustered, sentimental—but something about his expression and tone bothers you. But before you can suss out what it is, he continues, and the moment passes.

“Was there anything else you ever wanted to do?” he asks smoothly.

You're startled, off-guard. “Oh, um… not really. I never let myself think too much about it.”

“Come on,” he prods. “There must be something.”

“No, I really didn't think of any ideas on my own. Although…”

Your face gets hot as you trail off. Suo senses weakness, and goes in for the kill.

“Although?”

“It's too embarrassing,” you admit, looking away, and Suo looks a little too interested as he pesters you for an answer.

“Come on, it's fine.” His mouth curls in a way that tells you it's not fine. “I promise I won't judge you. I just want to know what I can do to make you happy as your husband.”

You give him an uncertain look, and say your only concrete fantasy about him so quickly and quietly that he misses it.

“Pardon?” he asks.

“...romantic, vanilla sex.”

Suo blinks. “What?”

Your face burns with humiliation.

“I used to think about having romantic, vanilla sex with you. When I was a teenager. A lot.” Said as if you weren't just thinking about it two months ago in a love hotel, and still don't want it now. You wouldn't even bring it up if you didn't think it was necessary. But unfortunately, you're professionally skilled at perceiving people’s sexual interests, and you've perceived that Suo is sexually a freak. He was definitely going easy on you tonight, and is probably actively planning to get worse. You'll never have normal sex with him unless you explicitly state a desire for it.

Suo gives you a surprised look. “That's… a very mundane fantasy.”

“It wouldn't have been mundane to me,” you reply, somewhat defensively. “I used to think about it when I slept with my customers, who weren't very romantic. Or vanilla. So I didn’t really have a good reference point or anything for that kind of sex, but sometimes I still thought about doing it with you after they had left.”

You look away after saying this, wondering why you disclosed all of that. It certainly wasn't necessary for your dream of someday taking Suo’s cock without being psychosexually tortured first. Now you feel like you need to hide. You even think about excuses for stopping the car, and ponder again how difficult it would be to live without proof of identity, if you chose to run away.

But Suo doesn't let you run. He pulls you close to him, wrapping you up in his warmth.

“It's okay,” he says gently, in a voice that reminds you of how he was in his old Furin days. “You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.” It confuses you deeply, and you turn to ask him what the fuck he's going on about.

You don't even realise you're crying until he starts kissing away your tears.

You can’t understand why you’re weeping. Maybe something strange and hormonal happened while you were having sex, like Suo made you orgasm too hard and all the oxytocin is making you depressed now. Though you think that hormone is supposed to make you happy. You're not sure. You never finished school, so you wouldn't know.

Whatever the reason, you hastily wipe away your tears. A hand rubs at your back, and you let yourself press your face into his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don't apologise. You don't have anything to be sorry for.”

You hesitate as you breathe against the silk threads of his shirt, thinking about how many of his shirts you've ruined with your tears. At least three changshan and one Versace summer piece, by your count. It’s not like he hurts over the money these days, but guilt tugs at your heart.

“I don't know about that,” you mumble into his shoulder. And it takes a while to work yourself up to saying it, but eventually you whisper, with full honesty, “I'm sorry for always worrying you.”

“I know,” Suo says. He sounds sincere when he says, “I’m sorry too.”

“I’ll try to be better from now on.”

“You will be. And even if you aren’t, that's fine.”

For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.

You melt against Suo after that, listening to the steady roll of tires and passing traffic outside. There's a gentle pitter patter of rain against the car roof, tinny and rhythmic, that gradually crescendos into a proper storm. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass. All of the noise is lulling you into a kind of peace, or maybe you're just feeling that way because Suo is holding you.

Fatigue wears your consciousness, and you close your eyes. The hustle and bustle of the red light district grows distant, faint—partly from slipping in and out of your dreams, and partly from the quieting world outside. It's now completely silent other than the heavy rainfall. You think they must be taking the road through Makochi. Suo asks for it whenever he wants you to sleep well.

He probably thinks you're asleep when he says, “I’m sorry for being how I am now.”

You almost stop breathing. Almost.

“You didn't fall in love with me when I was like this, so you must not like it very much,” he continues. “I know that Master wouldn't like me much either, if he were alive. He always said that you should support your loved ones until they can stand on their own two feet. But lately, I feel like all I've been doing is breaking yours.”

He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.

“Sakura knows who I really am, you know,” he says quietly. “I think he's worried about what'll happen to you if we get married. Though he’s been worried about you for a while.” Suo almost sounds endeared when he adds, “Did you know he only texts me now to ask if you're okay? He really does love you.”

He’s more sombre when he continues, “But Nirei is just afraid of me. That’s why he’s never around. He’s going to call you in a week and tell you not to go through with the wedding. He’ll probably tell you to leave me too. It’s good advice.”

It's hard to keep your breathing slow, with how badly your heart hurts.

“I’ve tried to go back to how I was, to the kind of person that Master was trying to raise,” Suo confesses. “But I don't think I can get better.”

But even if you can't, you want to tell him, that’s fine. You wish you could hold him how he's always held you.

“It doesn't usually upset me nowadays,” he admits after some time, “how I am now. But to be honest, talking about our school days did make me feel bitter, because I can't give you the things I know you wanted.”

He kisses the top of your head. Gently, so as not to wake you from your dream.

“I'm sorry I never became a teacher. I'm sorry I joined the yakuza. I'm sorry I can't give you a normal life. And I'm sorry I can’t have an honest conversation with you.”

Silence. You feel his chest stop briefly, his breathing deepen.

“Maybe someday, I'll get better enough to say these things to you while you're awake. Maybe someday, I'll even get better enough to let you leave. It would be best for you.”

His voice gets even softer. Tender.

“But for now, I don't know how to let you go.”

You feel a hand shifting away, the soft noise of leather against skin. Then both arms around you again, even warmer, even tighter. He’s leaning his head against yours. You think Suo is falling asleep.

Allowing yourself a single, quick glance at the car, you peer at your reflections in the rearview mirror. You see sheets of rain sliding against the back window, his dark lashes pressed to his skin, and all the scar tissue he likes to keep hidden away.

And you can see, very clearly, tears beneath his missing eye.

END 'TOKYO VICE'

hi everyone thanks for reading this chapter!!!! i hope it didn't disappoint after all the shitposting i did about it this week lol

can i just say. this was straight up the weirdest sex scene I've ever written HASLKFJSDF and the mood whiplash throughout this was probably the craziest i've ever written within a single piece. unfortunately, this reader copes with her trauma via humour and sex and it really shows rip. i hope it wasn't too offputting!

thank you to everyone who left a comment on part 1!! please do let me know if you enjoyed part 2 as well. <333

tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!

[azrielbrainrot]

These Moments We Share

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Warnings: pure fluff, not proofread

Word Count: ~0,7K

Notes: I have a bit of writer's block so I wrote this little drabble in hopes that it will help a bit with it. I got the idea from #57 on this list.

Azriel had just came home from what you assume was a particularly tiring meeting with the High Lord and Lady, the famed warrior barely sparing you a greeting before striping his clothes off and laying down on your shared bed, easily finding his way between your legs, resting his head on your chest as he let out a heavy sigh, eyes closing immediately as if he had been dreaming of this moment all day.

You bite back a chuckle and start carding your fingers through his hair slowly, a smile spreading on your lips when he starts purring, wings falling heavily on the bed at your sides. The book you had been reading easily put to the side in favor of paying attention to your mate.

If someone had told you a few years ago that you would end up in this situation you probably would have laughed in their faces. Azriel was such a guarded male, always hiding behind his shadows and putting on a mask for the world to see, that it still felt surreal to see him let all of his walls down, allowing you to see all of him.

You could have never imagined that he'd be so needy either, even after years of friendship. No one would believe you if you told them how he lay on top of you now, large body tucked between your thighs, head resting on your chest, or if you told them about the soft sounds escaping him as your fingers played with his dark curls, the gentle puffs of air hitting your skin as he relaxed and his breathing deepened, but you were more than happy to keep it a secret, selfishly unwilling to share it with anyone.

“What is it?”

Azriel's words bring you out of your thoughts, a tingly feeling spreading through your body as you felt the rambling of his chest against your torso as he talked.

“Your hair's soft,” you murmur, one of your hands moving to rest on the back of his neck.

He lets out an unconvinced hum, knowing you were just changing the subject but letting you get away with it as he always did, nuzzling further into your chest before confessing, “I've been stealing your conditioner.”

“I know,” you chuckle, “you smell like strawberries.”

He shakes his head, lifting himself until his face is hovering over yours, smiling down at the pout that tugs at your bottom lip, missing his weight on you already.

“‘Smell like you.”

There's no time for you to appreciate the way your heart stutters in your chest at his soft words, whispered so beautifully in that low voice of his, before his lips meet yours, the world disappearing around you.

His scarred hands move under your nightgown, holding onto your waist as your arms find their way around his neck, pulling each other impossibly closer. You find it hard to pull away from him, moving to leave gentle pecks across his cheek when his lips abandon yours, a chuckle escaping him and an overwhelming amount of love rushing through from his side of the bond.

“It's late,” he sighs, laying down on his side, a strong arm wrapped around you as he moves you with him, not wanting you to stop your gentle assault on him.

You give him one last kiss, tasting his lips one last time before nodding and settling against his body. “We should go to sleep,” you whisper against his warm skin, “I was only waiting for you to come home.”

Azriel nuzzles into your cheek, hugging you even closer to him until it's impossible to see where he ends and you begin, dropping his wing over your body too as his shadows hide both of you from the world. Sleep already tugging at your eyelids now that you're surrounded by his warmth and scent. This moment couldn't be more perfect.

“Good night, Az.”

“Good night, my love.”

[nariism]

ೃ⁀➷ MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE ★

a/n: fluff!! neuvillette being a touch starved loser (affectionate) + lots of terms of endearment. happy belated neuvillette day! may all neuvillette wanters be neuvillette havers ≧◡≦

Neuvillette can't stand coming home if not into your arms.

The deafening silence of a sleeping home drives him mad. It used to be welcomed after his terribly loud days. Now only serves to remind him of the millennium he spent alone, of the heartbreak he had to endure with no one to hold him, and of the growing emptiness within his heart long before he knew you.

It's unlike him to come home so late, but duty calls and as the Iudex of Fontaine he must go wherever summoned.

For days he has come home well into the latest hours of the night, sliding off his shoes in the darkness of the hall and allowing the silence to swallow him up whole. Five unbearably long days of missing your smile greeting him at the door, hands all over his face and squeezing his cheeks until he nudges them away in lieu of kissing you hello.

He expects tonight to be the same. It's so late that there was not a single soul wandering the streets of the city, no one awake to witness the very tired, very cranky Chief Justice.

You always find a way to defy his expectations.

The hall is quiet when he cracks open the front door. Crushing loneliness swells in his chest and sinks into the pit of his stomach when he realizes that you must have gone to bed long ago, as anyone sane would do. But then there's a click, followed by a small flame dancing in the dark.

You ignite an array of candles one by one, each additional glow illuminating your beautiful face in warm light. Neuvillette can't stop the hitching of his breath, nor the confusion knitted through his brows.

"What are you doing awake?"

You know he doesn't mean to scold you. Soft laughter fills his ears as you saunter over to him slowly. Realization crashes down on him as you approach, allowing him to see closer what has kept you up.

"Happy birthday, my love."

It's so late that midnight passed hours ago. He hadn't even realized amongst all the chaos of his work that the 17th had come and gone, making way for his birthday.

Only you would remember. It was a talent you had, memorizing every detail about him that sometimes even he lost track of.

("Neuvillette, dear, I picked up some dark roast on the way home today." He didn't even realize he had run out.

"Welcome home, I made ragout!" He wasn't aware he was craving it until you brought it up.

"Do you want this?" It's the last cookie in the bag, saved especially for him because you know it's from his favourite bakery in town.)

He leans in and blows out his candles, eyes never leaving yours as he blinks at you slowly. You look so beautiful even now, in the dimly moonlit hall. Darkness envelops your bodies again and yet he never tears his gaze away. Not even for a moment.

"Now put the cake down, please."

"Hm?" Your head tilts, clearly confused by his request.

"So I can hold you," he quickly explains, fingers itching at his sides because of how much he aches to hug you.

You gently set the cake down on the entrance table before you get scooped into a warm embrace, pressed snuggly to his chest as he memorizes the outline of your body against his once more.

"I've missed you, my dear," he says, face burrowed into the crook of your neck.

"It's only been a couple days," you laugh, and then remind him: "I see you every day at lunch."

"No, this is different." He pulls away slightly, forehead pressed against yours as he looks into your eyes. There's something in there— vulnerability and love all mixed into a beautiful purple harmony. "I miss coming home into your arms after long days," he admits.

"Oh, love," you breathe, reaching up to cup his face the way he's so used to. "Things will settle down again soon."

His eyes close as he savours your presence, soaking up all the affection you're giving him in his moment of weakness. You've always spoiled him.

"I suppose so," he agrees, a smile finally settling on his lips. Your thumb runs along it, tracing the curve of his happiness. There's a beat of silence before you open your mouth again.

"What did you wish for?" You ask curiously, voice growing quieter as you lean in to kiss him. And the answer he gives comes naturally.

Neuvillette has always wished for things he read about in novels; imaginary promises of treasure and desire and fame, sealed with the wispy smoke of blown out birthday candles. He isn't even sure if he has ever actually wanted any of those. But as he looks at you, with the slow beating of his heart and the brushing of your lips against him, he can't think of a single thing he could want more than this.

"I did not wish for anything," he tells you honestly, giving your waist a squeeze. "I already have everything I could ever want."

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[r-eatyourfriends-n]

Collide | l.hs 이희승 | pt. 1

best friend!heesung x best friend!reader

READ PT2 HERE

warnings: smut (mdni), pwp (plot's there if you look hard enough), unprotected sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation (sort of?), nipple play, heesung is cocky but only for a bit, no use of "y/n". It got sort of fluffy at the end?

synopsis: you've been having hookups for a while, but none of them have been memorable, much less good, so heesung decided you change that. Although his intentions might not be 100% pure.

wc: 5k.

a/n: this is by far not my first smut (it's literally all I write lol) but I've never posted for the enhypen fandom although I've been delusional about heesung and jake for a good while now. I have decided to break my silence. pls let me know if there are any mistakes and for sure let me know if you liked it! I actually quite enjoyed writing this as I began working on part two as soon as I finished. Also English is not my first language, I'm certain I revised this enough to avoid any grammar mistakes but thought I'd give y'all the heads up.

You arrived at Heesung's apartment late that night, just like you had warned him that you would. Given that your last date's place was near Heesung's, he had offered you to come over after your night out so that you didn't have to take a cab home. He said he'd be up playing anyway since it was a Friday night.

When you knocked, he had stood by his word. It took a few knocks and missed calls but eventually, the door opened, showing Heesung in a plain white tshirt and grey sweatpants. He welcomed you with a gentle smile, quiet as the noise rang through his headset. You nodded at him in acknowledgement and he took a step to the side to let you in.

As usual, you left your things on the couch. You signaled towards his bathroom and he nodded again, then left you alone to finish his game. You took a towel from his closet and one of his longer shirts and headed to the shower, head hanging low, letting the water run down your body when you stepped in, standing still under it, eyes closed.

Your date had been a mess.

The guy was nice; he held up to the bare minimum requirements of kindness and politeness, he payed for the bill even when you insisted for him to at least let you split it. Then he held your arm and guided you to his car like a true gentleman, where he took you to his house, layed you on his bed, and gave you the most boring, cunt-drying head and sex of your life. It felt criminal, really, that a man so handsome and well put together was such a boring and dull fuck. But there he had been, dirty blond hair parted to the side, stuck to his forehead as he sweat and heaved like a fucking pig white fucking into you, paying no mind to what you were feeling, only chasing his high.

Heesung, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when you stepped inside. Nor could he stop thinking about the marks that he hoped to god would be gone by morning, or your messy hair and out of place clothes, and the fact that you were willing to pull through with the plan of going to his apartment instead of staying with the guy. He picked you up, fucked you poorly (most likely), and couldn't even drive you somewhere else?

Ever since you became confident enough to put yourself out there, you've had quire the few hookups, which was unsurprising to Heesung. You were pretty, charming, and kind, and he saw those things every day. However, heesung wasn't stupid. He knew that at the end of the day, there was a good reason as to why men overall didn't have a good reputation during sex. And Heesung was someone who would love to show you a good time, but he didn't want to lose you over it.

He dreamed of it. Fantasized about it so many times— about all the ways in which he would fuck you, so good that no one else could even compare. To have you come back to him each time you even so much as think about trying to sleep with some other guy that isn't him. He'd give you the slow, teasing version of it first, taking his sweet time with each and every inch of skin until you were shaking just from the mere anticipation of feeling his cock push in, dragging out the pleasure in slow waves, praising you for enduring such intense feelings. Make you feel so good you'd cry.

If you wanted, Heesung could be rough, too. Bend you over every single piece of furniture of his apartment and yours. In his car as well, he would be lying if he said he never imagined putting you on your hands and knees on the backseat of his car whenever he picked you up from a party; have claw at the leather and leave your mark on it. Park somewhere dark and let you ride him on the driver's seat.

To be quite frank, it drove him crazy; to know that you were in his bathroom— naked in his house, and he couldn't just walk in and press you against the wall, ready to hold your weight when your knees begin to shake and buckle.

Heesung shook his thoughts away, going back to his game and trying to act normal. He unmuted himself to yell at Jake and Yeonjun, who were performing even worse than him. As they went quiet again, he heard the water stop and the bathroom door open. Your reflection appeared on his second monitor, your hair in somewhat of a low ponytail over your shoulder with a few strands on the front. Some parts of your body were clearly still damp, and his shirt stuck where there were still drops of water gathering on your skin. Heesung licked his lips, desperate to end the game and go to you, who layed comfortably on his bed, scrolling through your phone with a cold expression.

You sighed while you stared holes into Heesung's stiff back and shoulders. You showed up to his apartment knowing that he was going to be gaming with his friends, but a part of you still hoped that he would've dropped everything for like he had done sometimes, especially since today had been particularly frustrating. Still, you waited for him, just rather impatiently.

He didn't bother to say goodbye to his boys, he only turned off his computer and took his headphones off, rubbing at his red and sore ears. He turned on his chair and smiled.

“I'm done.”

“Did you win?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Heesung shook his head. “I wasn't focusing.” He shrugged. “How bad was it?"

“How'd you know it was bad?"

“You're here, aren't you?” He chuckled.

Your shoulders dropped in defeat, quietly admitting your best friend was right. Heesung's eyes softened, displaying pity as your hands came up to rub your face, leaving a red trail of pure frustration.

“He was so handsome and sweet,” You groaned into your palms. “But he barely even kissed me, or touched me.”

He gritted his teeth, eyes landing on the small, purplish spots on your neck. “You're all marked up though,” he said, trying not to let his jealousy seep into his words.

“I practically had to beg him to do anything,” you admitted, embarassed that those words even came out of your mouth.

Begged?, Heesung thought, you had to beg a random guy to do what he had been dying to do to you? He scratched at the back of his neck.

“I don't know where you keep finding these scumbags.” He stood up, walking towards the bed to sit next to you.

“Maybe they're all scumbags and I should give up, because I didn't even get to finish.”

Heesung pressed his lips together, making a thin line. He tried to think about what to say next, but words were out of his mouth before he could consider all outcomes.

“Do you still want to?”

“Want to what?” you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

“Come,” he responded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you still want to come?”

Heat crept up your cheeks, your body beggining to deter from his gaze. Neither of you had ever been shy about discussing sex, or each other's sex lives—though he was much more reserved about it than you were—, but something in the atmosphere made you nervous. Something in his tone as the words came out of his mouth, something about heesung saying those words to you.

You huffed. “Well, who doesn't, right?”

His pupils were blown out in an instant. “Then let me help you.”

“Help me what?” you rolled your eyes at him, exasperated. Although he wasn't being as cryptic as you perceived him, you were just in a bad mood.

Heesung just shrugged. “Come,” he repeated, leaning closer to you. “Let me make you come.”

The whole world stopped for you, or at least that's what it felt like. Your face contorted, a thousand thoughts rushing through your mind.

Yes, it was your best friend, who you barely recognized at the moment. But you would be lying if you said his words didn't have an effect on you, his offer making you shiver. Still, you had some level of skepticism because again, he was your best friend.

“Stop playing, I'm not in the mood.” Was all you managed to push out, not feeling like being teased.

Unable to back down now —or not wanting to—, heesung took a deep breath.

“Do I look like I'm playing?”

You turn to face him, and looked for a hint, or even such as a glimpse of him being the teasing asshole that he had always been, however, he never faltered. If anything, he seemed impatient for an answer.

“I think you deserve to know what a good night feels like,” He continued.

“You think you're good?” You scoffed mockingly, already feeling your body heating up at his promises. A good night? Yes, you were in desperate need of one of those. It was nothing Heesung wasn't already aware of.

“I know I am,” he smirked.

His confidence set off something inside of you. If it turned out that he was all talk, then, you'll be damned, because god, did he know how to talk. Not only using his words, but also his whole body, as he leaned foward to press his face closer to yours. Had he always been like this or were you just noticing?

For the time you had known Heesung, you never knew him for one to sleep and mess around. He was a flirt, sure, he loved to lean in during parties to make the women around him flustered. More often than not, he would brush past them with a hand on their waist and watched as they blushed, but despite his good looks and undeniable charisma, you've never heard about him constantly hooking up, nor doing it often like you did.

Regardless, wether it was seldom or not, Heesung fucked. It was a fact, even if it seemed like he was too busy gaming and working, he had managed to fit some fun time in his packed schedule of work hours and consoles. You couldn't deny you've heard about him, given that he had unknowingly slept with two of your coworkers. It wasn't something you told him, and until this very day, he was still unaware of the fact.

But you were very aware of what had been said about him, because you heard them discuss in great detail about how good the sex had been. They had talked about everything, from the size of his cock to how he knew how to eat out a woman—and how good he looked doing it—, how many times they came and what not. It had been weird to hear about how good your best friend was in bed, but you still grew curious, dying to know if the rumours were true, and if he was the well built roman sex god they made him out to be.

He was your best friend, yes (how many times had you said it already?). Still, you weren't blind nor stupid, you could see how gorgeous he was, how hot he looked, having been flustered by him one too many times. Certain feelings harvested in you that you had pushed to the side, thinking that you would bully them away by telling yourself than a friend who just so happened to be stupidly handsome. And you had managed quite well, that until today, with Heesung infront of you, willing to give you what you wanted.

Would the sex outweigh any possible bad outcomes that may come from hooking up with the person you trust the most? Only time would tell.

“Okay,” you whispered, feeling shy under his impatient gaze.

He reached out his hand, softly cupping your chin. His thumb caressed your jawline.

“I'll be gentle.”

Your brows furrowed. “I'm not a virgin, Heesung.”

“Do you need to be a virgin for that?” He laughed, dumbfounded by your words. “Just lay back and let me make you feel good.”

Promises, promises, promises. “Are you all talk or do I have to beg you too?”

Heesung smirked. “Don't give me ideas.”

Any hesitation any of you might have still had vanished the minute your lips pressed together. Heesung moved slowly, almost forcing you to follow his lead and you obliged, sighing into the kiss. You held his nape to pull him closer, it was the only thing he let you do. He allowed you to guide him on top of you, and you spread your legs so that he could settle himself between them to kiss you deeper.

His tongue pushed against yours without a warning and you whimpered. Just the kissing had your heart threatening to shoot a hole into your chest from the inside out. Heesung had inviting lips for sure, but god, did he know how to use them.

You were desperate to have him touch you but still whined and protested when his mouth began to make its way down, stopping by your neck first, biting just below your jawline. Your hands trembled, trying to find something to hold on to until you figured the best thing to sink your nails into were his shoulders.

Heesung loved it, to know his skin would welcome anything your body gave. So mesmerized by the way you reacted to his touches, so receptive and sensitive to him. He couldn't believe it yet, that he had you on his bed, kissing you breathless.

Your back arched into him when he sucked on the skin, making sure to leave more visibly, longer lasting marks over the ones you already had. He watched as your skin became stained with a darker purple, his cock throbbing at the sight; at the thought of seeing you on his clothes, your body littered in his marks.

He raised your shirt over your breasts. You reached for the hem of the shirt to pull it over your head to give him more space to do what he wanted more comfortably. He stopped you immediately, though.

“I wanna fuck you in my shirt,” he confessed, trying not to show his desperation.

His words almost were enough to make you moan, and you realised you weren't turned off by the idea of being owned in some way, especially if it was Heesung who did. Or perhaps you were just incredibly horny, and he had started to play with one of your nipples between his fingers, the other one going into his mouth.

With your hand gripping his head tightly, you pushed him towards your chest. He swirled his tongue around the bud in acknowledgement of your actions, which made you buck your hips up in an attempt to get some sort of friction. You could feel your panties sticking to your skin, was it normal to be this wet just from kissing?

It was probably how it should have been with your date, or with any of the other guys you had slept with. But only you had managed to get yourself to that state, alone in your room with your fingers, and now Heesung with his skilled mouth licking and swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, his hips pressed against your cunt to keep you from squirming or pressing your legs together. You took the opportunity to grind yourself against him, feeling the outline of his already hard cock on your shorts. The whine he let out was long and needy.

“Heesung,” you moaned, nudging at his shoulder to push him away. “More.”

Heesung's knees buckled at your pleads.

“Beg a little more, baby.” He instructed. He pressed a soft kiss between your breasts, where a drop of sweat had begun to roll down. “Say my name again.”

Heesung found himself hypnotized by the way you moaned out his name. The way you tried to shove him down to get him to go between your legs just made him want to tease you more.

“heesung please, please, fuck—,” you babbled. “God, stop teasing me.”

“No god here, just me,” Heesung smirked at you.

Thankfully, what you said had been enough. He made his way down slowly, ghosting his hands over your waist as he directed his kisses from your abdomen until his lips met the hem of your shorts. He pushed them to the side and stared at your white panties now turned transparent from the wetness. And he almost couldn't believe it was for him. A bunch of thoughts passed through his mind that he didn't dare to voice; how he had wanted this for so long, how he was hoping you would come to your senses and realize how much better he was than all the other guys you had gone out with. How he hoped this would absolutely ruin you, and make you feel like you will never find something out there that could compete. The thought of this possibly being a one time thing, and that you could run off to some other douchebag was nauseating.

He offered himself up expecting that, by the end of the night, he'll own you.

It wasn't something that he wanted to keep thinking about. All he wanted was to hear more of your pretty sounds. You gasped when he yanked down your shorts, leaving on your underwear just to mess with you and make you desperate for him. He glided his thumb over your cunt, occasionally putting pressure on your clit but never quite staying there. Your legs and hips twitched, your pathetic attempt to guide his finger. Loud moans and whines kept pouring from your lips as you tried to get him where you wanted.

“Have any of those assholes ever gone down on you?” he asked, sort of absent.

Had they? You weren't really sure. Sometimes they would kiss between your legs, a few licks here and there before they pushed their cock in, but never like what your friends have told you it was like. Jealousy burbled in your stomach whenever you heard them talk about it— the unimaginable pleasure, the look on the man's face he ate them out like his life depended on it. You have had a glimpse, a very bad one, but you had almost felt what it was like. However, at the end of the day, it was mostly you on your knees with your mouth stuffed.

Ultimately, you decided to tell him exactly that. “Yeah, but not really. It's usually me who does.”

Heesung clicked his tongue, completely displeased by your answer. It pissed him off, sort of, at least enough to pull your panties down and finally beginning to live up to his promise. He flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit, to which your body immediately reacted, forcing a whimper out of you.

His hands forced your legs open as far as they would go, taking full control, leaving you defenseless under his relentless mouth and tongue. Same tongue he pushed inside you, thrusting it into your hole, feeling you squeeze him. The way your walls tightened around his tongue turned him impatient, dying to get that same feeling on his cock. But you were his priority right now, and he would have time to feel you soon enough.

The orgasm that you had been longing for since you accepted your date felt closer than ever, with heesung's nose hitting your clit, and his tongue moving inside you. He then reached up to suck on your clit that kept getting more and more swollen the more his lips would close around it, rolling his tongue over it. As he kept playing with it, he teased his finger on your entrance, gathering your slick on it and sliding it in with little to no effort, your body welcoming him instantly. He found himself stretching you further in no time, slowly pushing in a second finger and curling both of them.

“Feel good baby?” he mumbled. It was uncommon for him to ask those types of questions, since he would rather have girls show him. But from you, he wanted to hear it, he needed to hear it.

The question almost sounded stupid in your ears.

“So fucking good,” you breathed out. “So fucking close.”

All of the rumours were true, and Heesung absolutely looked hot pleasuring a woman, smiling to himself, looking drunk and fucked out just from it, his only goal to have you finish thanks to him. He was good, exactly like he said he was, making your eyes roll back, a thing you had only thought possible in porn, and just by using his mouth. And he still had yet to fuck you.

The pace of his fingers and tongue quickened, your moans got louder along with it. Edging you was something he considered, feeling you so close, having the power to just stop all at once and leave you hanging.

Your orgasm came crashing down on you before he could make a decision, and fuck if it wasn't one of the hottest things he had ever witnessed; how your back arched and your feet lift off of the bed as the highest peak of pleasure you had ever felt invaded your body in waves, body convulsing onto his hand in time with the loud, borderline screams of his name. It had gotten to the point you had to kick at his shoulders for him to pull away, sensations quickly turning painful.

If that's how you were gonna feel on his cock, he was certain that he was not going to last long.

“Shit, Heesung, that was—”

"I'm not done with you, sweetheart,” he interrupted. “I barely just started.” He chuckled, begging to pull down his sweatpants, revealing the wet patch of precum on his underwear. “Look what you did to me.”

Your eyes never stopped following his hands as he hooked his fingers om his boxers to finally free his cock from being smothered by the fabric, standing proudly against his abdomen, heavy. Something in your stomach fluttered with a twisted exciment of what was about to happen, especially when he wrapped his hand around it to stroke it slowly, almost teasing himself.

And you let him, watching him try to relieve himself; his mouth open, panting, so focused on aliviating his arousal that he almost forgot you were there. That until both of your eyes met, the atmosphere in the room getting heavier by the minute

Heesung stopped moving his hand. “Come spit on it, baby,” he instructed. “Get it ready.”

A breath got stuck in your throat at his words. That hadn't been the nastiest thing you heard, you had been said and called way worse. But the way he look and sounded while he made his request, knelt in front of you, hair out of place and lips dark pink and glossy from eating you out made him look and sound so utterly dirty, so much so that your body reacted way before you did, already crawling to him before he could finish that sentence fully.

You looked straight into his eyes as you opened your moth, a long string of saliva falling from your tongue in slow motion until it met the head of his cock. He looked right back at you as he spread it across his length. Heesung muttered curse after curse as you laid back down, and was quick to settle himself between your legs once more.

His tip pressed against your entrance, and you felt the stretch almost immediately, hissing and putting your hand on stomach as a reflex. He held your wrist gently, used his grip to pull your hand up to his face, pressing a soft kiss on your palm. His eyes fluttered shut as your warm skin came into contact with his lips. And when you moved to cup his cheek, he leaned into the touch instantly. You began to tease his bottom lip, running your thumb over it, and as he sunk himself even further, he caught it between his teeth, gently grazing them against your semilong nails, until he finally closed his mouth around it. He hummed.

It took Heesung a while to bottom out inside you, and you moaned and whined all the way through it; from the pain of being stretched open and from the pleasure of being stretched open. He moaned as well, as his hips met your pelvis, with your walls fluttering around his cock. His thoughts were going at a thousand miles, all of them screaming at him to really, really fuck you into the mattress. But he stayed put for the sake of your enjoyment, he had promised you a good night and he was going to drag it out as much as he could for your and his enjoyment.

Still with your thumb between his lips, he began to slowly move his hips, barely pulling out before pushing back in to get you used to his girth. You gripped his bicep with your free hand, scratching down on his skin until the sting started to dissipate. You took notice of the way he held his breath as the speed began to increase, moaning and groaning when you squeezed him in.

It was dizzying, how you felt him everywhere. In your hand, with his moans vibrating on your palm; inside you as he dragged his cock, barely managing to pull out an inch before diving back in, pressing himself against you as much as he could so that he was fully settled inside your walls. Due to his cocky attitude, you didn't take him for the type of guy to be vocal. But there he was, whining louder and louder, almost uncontrollably, and that only turned you on more. The fact that you, too, were making him feel good and he was not afraid to show it.

You weren't usually this pliant and submissive, preferring to put up a little bit of a fight, managing to make guys submit to you instead as you took the lead. With Heesung, though, it was different, whether it was because was mesmerizing or because you had never felt such heightened pleasure, it was clear that he had control from the moment he got closer to you before he made his offer. And you could take control, probably, but you didn't want to. You wanted Heesung to do the work, to prove himself.

Which he was, taking on a pleasurable rhythm that had you moaning louder than him. One of his hands found the plush of your hips and gripped onto it for leverage to angle himself. The other one traveled from your chest all the way down to your clit, rubbing messy circles with his thumb, making you throw your head back into the pillows, along with a cry of his name.

The echo of his skin hitting against yours fueled him. Heesung didn't know where he should be looking at, if at your beautifully contorted face, with your eyes closed shut and your lips parted, or down, to where a white ring of your slick began to sorround the base of his cock each time he pulled out, noises growing increasingly wetter.

“You're driving me fucking insane,” he grunted.

There was no response from you, only whines of pleasure as you neared your second release. His thumb circled faster, not too hard, but enough to send all of your senses into overdrive, encouraging you to reach your climax, dying to know if you'd feel as good on his cock as you did on his fingers. And although he was dying to kiss you, he held back his urges just to see your face as you came, with your legs closing around his waist, your body slightly convulsing off the bed. It was nothing short of delightful.

You attempted to catch your breath, but heesung didn't give you time to process your intense orgasm as he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed your cheek into the mattress and accommodated your lower half as he pleased. You were barely able to hold your ass up in the air for him, your knees weak as he entered you again. Only then did you register that you had come twice already, but had yet to see or feel a single drop from him.

“You are fucking insane,” you groaned, teary eyed.

He chuckled, movements coming to a halt. “I made you come twice and you still complain? Tsk. Greedy.” He dug his nails into your hips, making you wince. “Sorry you're tired, but it's my turn now.”

With that, his thrusts resumed, opting for a quicker, rougher pace than before, clearly turning a bit more selfish and now after his own release. The new position allowed him to reach deeper, making you press yourself back onto him to meet him halfway, chasing the sensation despite the pang of pain from having orgasmed so recently.

Heesung leaned down to bite onto your shoulder, in the pace where his tshirt wouldn't cover, making sure to engrave his teeth into your skin, hoping the next man you tried to sleep with would be turned off by the markings. He let go when you complained, kissing and licking onto it instead, whispering more soft apologies, although both of you knew that he wasn't sorry at all.

After a while his thrusts became more erratic, losing any pacing he tried to maintain. The grip on your hips was bruising, but you thought you wouldn't have it any other way.

“Touch yourself for me,” he commanded in between his moans.

You reached down between your body and the matress, struggling to reach your clit as Heesung's thrusts moved and pressed you against the sheets. Your motions were slow and light despite the harsh snapping of heesung's hips, slowly building up the pressure in your lower stomach until any discomfort you felt was gone, your fingers now matching his speed, mindless of the way your cunt tightened around him almost painfully.

He didn't stop nor slow down, not even as he came. Loud moans spilled from his lips, attempting to drag out his release as much as he could. And you followed soon after, body giving out under heesung to lay flat onto the bed, breathing heavily. He spread your legs carefully to not miss the way his cum oozed out of you, dripping down onto your folds. You turned your head back as best as you could, and through the mess of hair on your face, you still caught the way he smiled to himself as he watched.

“This is video worthy,” Heesung murmured, dragging his fingers up your cunt to fuck his cum back into you. “You're gonna make me hard again.”

You squirmed away from him, kicking at his sides. “Stop it,” you whined, then whined again as he pulled his fingers out languidly, the sight so painfully naughty it almost made you ask him to fuck you again. However, you were too tired to even hold yourself up.

Heesung's whole demeanour changed, and he was back to being just him; playful and soft spoken. “Sorry,” he chuckled, the only time it sounded like he actually meant it. He hovered over you, moving your hair to place gentle kisses on the nape of your neck.

It made you sigh, muscles finally relaxing, and your hearbeat now back to normal. Or sort of normal.

For the sake of the moment, you tried not to think about anything; about the fact that you just had the most intense and amazing sex with your best friend, no other. And you had to admit that you were kind of sad about the fact that it was over, and that it was probably gonna be a one time thing to protect the friendship. So you allowed yourself to be held by him, pushing any and all thoughts to the back of your mind.

“You're beautiful, you know?” he whispered against your skin.

He was making it way too hard.

“Not so bad yourself,” you mumbled jokingly. Heesung was fucking beautiful, too. “M'gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“Sleep, then,” he smiled.

“Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“The dick, and the kisses.”

Heesung couldn't help but laugh, a loud but oddly comforting sound as you began to drift off.

“Anytime.”

[rottiens]

✮ tags. (18+), fem!reader, bf!geto, established relationship, domesticity and fluff, reverse comfort if you squint, cockwarming, petnames (baby).

✮ wc. 1.5K

✮ notes. guys...I swear I didn't mean to do this smut, I swear this was going to be fluff,,

"Hey."

Suguru calls out to you from the door of the shared room, his shoes absent, his white shirt unbuttoned —his chest exposed to your eyes, very few scars, the one or two moles and a marked abdomen, along with a path of curly, dark hairs ending where his pants begin— as he carries his uniform jacket on his forearm.

Your eyes filled with life, you've been waiting for him all day.

"Come here," you call him softly towards the bed patting the mattress, setting the cursed techniques book aside to focus on him.

Suguru shuffles his steps across the floor of the room, his shoulders are slightly down, his hair as he approaches you can see it getting more and more disheveled, loose strands sticking out from every corner of the perfect bun that once existed.

"What happened?" You question him, Suguru was at that point crawling his body to the mattress like a worm. His face remains just above your bare thighs as he looks up at you from below with eyes full of love, your fingers comb a lock back behind his ear. "I only missed one day and this is your state, huh? You missed me that much?"

Suguru rolls his eyes, then closes them, letting himself be dragged down by the weight of exhaustion. His long arms wrap around your waist and you lie like that for a while, so silent you think he's fallen asleep until his raspy voice shakes you, taking you by surprise.

"I'm tired."

"You want to talk about your day?"

Another grunt. "It's just that being a teacher is harder than I thought."

"This is only your second week." You speak in the same sleepy tone as he does, almost as if you're seeking not to wake him up.

"Satoru makes it look so easy," he says, still with his eyes closed.

"You know this is fun for him. He doesn't take it as seriously as you do." You try to comfort him, still massaging his skull.

You get a glint from his brown eyes as he opens one eye for you, squeezing the other.

"Baby."

"Hm?"

"I'm getting hard." You stop yourself from stroking him all at once, he moans. "Don't stop. I'm sorry."

"I thought you were tired." You were confused… this wasn't unusual but still, you couldn't help but frown somewhat incredulously.

"And I am… but I'm so stressed lately, I'm late from killing curses and you're not here, I get up early and you're not in bed and, ugh."

"Hm?" you insist.

"I've been thinking about you all day," Suguru sighs.

You swallow, nervous because you know where this road leads —you've lived it a hundred times already— your caresses become a little unsteady in his hair and Suguru notices, drawing a smile in his unconscious. Your skin feels very sensitive to his touch, his warm fingers hugging your skin where the pajama top can't cover.

"What have you been thinking?" you venture to ask.

"You know exactly what I've been thinking," he murmurs, scrunching his face against the warm flesh of your thighs. "About you, about your hugs, about your mouth, about your kisses, about your hands on me…"

Suguru opens his eyes wide, smiling without showing his teeth and your heart, never able to have adjusted to his effect, leaps. He leaves the comfort of your lap to get up, Suguru throws his shirt on the floor and settles on the bed to wrap his arms around you from behind, you arrange your body so that the two of you form a perfect arc.

You knew what that position meant, but as if Suguru thought you were in doubt, he adds, "Let's get some sleep."

Are you sure?" It was six o'clock in the evening, sleep now meant waking up like wide-eyed owls in the wee hours of the morning. It meant making coffee to keep you awake until you had to go to work again because there was no way you could fall asleep again.

"Just a little bit," he says, not mentally reasoning the same points you are. You let it go because he really feels exhausted and you know what it means to him in that state to have your him keep you close.

Suguru settles in better behind you, his strong arms holding you close to his body, impossible to escape even if you wanted to. His face is hidden in your neck and the warmth of your boyfriend after so many days of being away feels good, his hands are on your tummy making circles that lead you to close your eyes.

Suguru moves closer to you, and though his breath on your skin makes you want everything more than sleep you try for at least a couple of long minutes, until you feel his arms stir like snakes in your body and move up to your breasts and squeeze. You lie still, wondering if he did it out of inertia until he does it a second time.

You groan, inevitably pushing into him, bumping into an erection that digs hard against your ass.

His calloused fingers search for your nipples on the fabric finding them instantly hard. Suguru sighs deep in your throat, squeezing your body a little tighter, the tips of his pearly teeth grazing your flesh.

"I thought you were sleepy…" you moan, throwing your head back, giving him the space he needs to suck on your skin.

"Shh," he shushes you with another insensitive squeeze to your nipples, Suguru didn't used to be so rough, but his actions only hid behind the desire when he missed you.

His fingers enter through your top and fiddle with your nipples, playing with them back and forth. You both continue the game for a while longer, him squeezing and tugging at them, you rubbing against his hard cock directly ruining your pajamas thanks to the non-existence of your panties.

"Put it in," you barble full of ecstasy, you feel him grinning near your collarbone.

"Already?"

"Yes, hurry."

"Are you wet?" he doesn't let you answer as he keeps talking— "Let me see… No panties," suguru emphasizes. Without asking permission, he reaches through the elastic of your shorts and positions himself with his middle finger between the soggy folds of your pussy. He rubs your clit, you blindly reach for his erection in an awkward position where you throw your arm back but he stops it; ceasing to knead your breasts to make it prisoner against your back.

You moan, wanting to touch him too, but all prayer is half-hearted the moment his hooked fingers expand your pussy. Suguru is fucking it with his digits, you are obscenely wet, you soak him to the knuckles, staining your own thighs in the process and the room fills with the sticky 'click click click' sounds along with the chorus of needy moans.

Suguru kisses your wet temple.

"I missed you," he admits, increasing the rhythm, his wrist beginning to cramp.

"I missed you more! Suguru.. stop, I don't want to-!"

You try to stop him by pushing his hand away from you but this doesn't help much.

"Condom," he says through gritted teeth.

"We don't have…" you hate yourself at that moment for forgetting to buy but he hates himself more.

Reluctantly Suguru pulls his fingers out of you.

"Fuck it," Suguru growls. You hear him unzip and pull down his uniform pants, just enough to pull his cock out. "Let me fuck you like this…" he asks, taking your cheek and pulling it apart, exposing your ass and pussy from behind, Suguru spits on his hand and fucks the swollen tip of his cock for a while, just watching you dripping and squeezing around nothing. "I'm gonna pull out.." Suguru promises falsely.

"Hm," you nod looking back spreading your legs wider for him.

You feel him at your entrance, rubbing all over your wet slit with his even wetter head. Suguru taps your sensitive clit with his stiff cock and slides in one shot inside you before you have time to beg him.

You can feel him trembling and it's desperate. He doesn't move and you want to scream.

"Baby…" you call out to him, looking back up at him and he tastes the desperation in your broken voice.

"Let's sleep like this." Suguru wraps his arms around your waist again to the same innocent position as before, only now you can feel it throb and fill you to a point where you can't breathe.

"Babe…" you call out to him again, this time he spanks you lightly.

"Don't move, you're going to make me cum."

"Suguru…" You whimper a third time and he mischievously gives a deep thrust of his hips.

"Stay still. Let me feel you." He returns to his original spot, massaging your breasts and tugging on your nipples, you moan.

"I love you," you sob, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you needed to stimulate your clit, that it was throbbing and that you clearly weren't going to be able to sleep.

For a brief flash you imagine if you could make yourself cum silently.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Daisychains III

Marta Torrejón x Caroline Graham Hansen x Child!Reader

Summary: You miss Caro

It's unusual to see you in kit.

You usually end up in your school uniform or your gardening overalls or the soft linen clothes Caro buys at home in Norway that are perfect for the hot Barcelona weather.

You've never had any big interest in football, at least not enough to wear jerseys outside of watching Marta and Barcelona play.

But this is your special Norway shirt.

It's not even yours, not really.

It was Caro's, straight from her side of Marta's wardrobe.

It hangs over your knees as you sit in the swinging chair with your reading book with all the little flowers in separate pots. You'd been reading to them a lot lately.

"I've got snacks," Marta says, approaching you with a little plate of homegrown celery and carrots.

She slots into the little space next to you, an arm over your shoulder as you lean into her.

"I miss Caro," You say," When is Caro coming home?"

"She'll be home soon," Marta says," She's still playing for Norway right now."

"But I want her home!"

You're whining now. Like wearing a jersey, this is unusual for you. Your bottom lips wobbles dangerously until you're burying your head in Marta's chest and clutching at her shirt.

"I want Caro!"

"Conejita, Caro is-"

"Caro!"

Tears fall from your cheeks as you curl around Marta, your snacks forgotten as she gently rests her hand on the back of your head.

She should have expected this really. You had grown attached to Caro now that she's around more. You crawl into Caro's side of the bed in the morning before school for extra cuddles. You let Caro do up your school shoes and give you the last kiss before heading into the school building.

You adore Caro and Marta should have really known that this separation wouldn't do you much good.

You crawl into Marta's bed that night, fast asleep and holding Caro's pillow.

"I didn't mean to make her sad," Caro says, wincing slightly as she gazes at you through the video call.

"I think she just got used to having you around," Marta replies," It's not your fault. She hasn't dealt with me going away to camp for a while now. I think she's forgotten what it's like."

"I..." Suddenly, Caro feels choked up. She hadn't expected seeing you like this with your sad, little scrunched up sleeping face would affect her like that. "Give her a kiss for me?"

"Of course. I'll tell her you wanted her to have lots from you."

"Thank you."

It's amazing how expressive a child's face is. Caro hadn't ever really thought of that before. Of course, there's Skatt who had always worn her heart on her sleeve and Estrella who always looked like she was halfway between judgement and pure boredom.

Caro has known Skatt for years now but she hadn't even considered the little faces she made. She knew, in theory, that everything Skatt thought was on her face but she'd never paid attention to it.

But now that you're in her life, Caro can't help but notice.

The image of your sad face with your downturned lips and the frown that stayed on your features even as you slept.

It's an image that stays with her through all the training and gym work and even as Caro eats, stubbornly stabbing the food on her plate with a fork.

It's an image that stays with her as she prepares to walk out for the match as well.

Little feet pitter-patter around as Caro weaves through her teammates and their mascots, shuffling through the line to get to her place.

She nearly falls straight over as something unexpected crashes into her legs and Caro whips her head downwards.

To tell off or to yell.

She hasn't quite decided yet.

But her words stick in her throat.

"Caro!" You say, hugging her legs and looking up at her.

"I...What are you doing here?"

You let go of her, taking a step back. "Do you not want me here?"

Caro shakes her head, getting down on her knee to pull you into a proper hug. "Of course I want you here. I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Caro. That's why we came. I'm even wearing your shirt."

Marta stands a little way away, a fond smile on her face as she sees Caro litter kisses over your face.

"You're not going over?" Mapi asks, Skatt hanging off her arm dressed like a happy little ladybug.

"I'm letting them have this moment. I've had Conejita cuddles every day for years. Caro's got a lot of catching up to do."

[entitled-fangirl]

Violence through his veins.

Benjicot Blackwood x wife!reader

Summary: Benjicot is an overly nervous man around his wife, blushing every time. After the Battle at the Burning Mill, Benji exudes confidence. It throws her off.

Warnings: HEAVY talks of sex. Blood, war, violence, etc.

A/N: based on an ask! We get a little shy Ben, then a little Bloody Ben! It's the best of both worlds!!!

Masterlist

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She stepped down the stairs, paying more attention to the man that stood at the bottom of the staircase. 

Benjicot Blackwood stood at the bottom of the stairs. He was chatting lightly to a lord, not noticing her approaching yet. 

She took a moment to admire him. His broad shoulders flexed as he rolled them back. He no doubt wanted to crawl into a hole and not come back out. She was beginning to know him well just from his body language. 

The man he was talking to looked up, noticing her coming down the stairs. "My lady?"

Benji turned immediately at that. His eyes lit up at the sight of her. "My love?" He asked softly.

She hit the bottom step and stopped. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to interrupt you."

Benji let out a soft breath of relief. "No. That's fine." He excused himself from the man and held out his arm like a proper gentleman, which she took.

The two walked down the corridor in silence and she was the one to break it. "You looked miserable."

"Did I?" He immediately asked in concern, then relaxed. "Thought I was hiding it pretty well."

She hummed. "He didn't seem to notice."

"And you did?" 

She shrugged and tightened her grip on his bicep. "We're married."

His brows came together in thought. His heart felt a small jolt at the thought that she recognized his anxiety so easily. "We are," he agreed, "Is that how it works?"

"Well, I don't know in all honesty," she admitted. "But I know you fairly well."

"And I to you."

The silence continued as they continued to walk. It was comforting, and they found that they didn't mind it. But Benji's mind was wandering and he couldn't stop it. 

"Is that why you interrupted?"

She hummed in consideration of what to tell him. "A lady never interrupts on purpose."

His eyes met hers, and a blush crept over his cheeks. The two looked away. 

"I-I'll have to go soon. I have to patrol."

"You won't be here to sup?"

"No..."  

"Oh." She pulled her hand back and smoothed down her skirt. "Well, that's alright. How late will you be gone?"

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "I imagine before you sleep, though I'm unsure."

"I've been… missing you, as of late," she admitted with a flushed expression. 

His cheeks flushed as well. "H-Have you?"

"It has been a few days." She dared to reach out and brush over his shoulder. "The people are expecting us to do our duties."

"Is that the only reason?" His breathed out as the heat in his body rose. 

She stepped forward, placing a delicate kiss to his jaw. "No."

A small whine fell from his lips. His shaky hands made their way to her hips and his head tilted up to give her more room. 

She took advantage of it, nipping at his Adam's apple. 

He groaned. "I must go."

"Stay," she begged.

"I-I can't."

She placed her forehead on his chest. "But you'll be back soon?"

He brushed a hand through her hair. "As soon as I can be, my love."

…

The news of the Battle had sent her into a tailspin that evening. Her sweet husband in a battle with the Brackens?

When news was received that the battle had ended, she all but ran to the battlefield. The stable boy had handed her the reigns to her horse and she was off. 

Once upon the field, she took note of the numerous scattered bodies across the field. It panicked her more, knowing that her sweet Benjicot could be one of them. 

The small group of men across the field loudly chatted and yelled, no doubt celebrating their victory. They were crowded in a circle, all in Blackwood red.

She rode to them, and their attention turned to her. 

Benicot stepped out from the circle, his body covered head to toe in blood. His hair was smeared with the remains of his enemies, his eyes so dark, they were hard to spot through the blood. 

But that wasn't what was so alarming.

It was the confidence that oozed from his form. His shoulders were back, his chest puffed out in a way she'd never seen. His eyes held a fire to them, one that was now set on her. He sheathed his sword, opening his arms out. "The hell are you doing here?"

She jumped off of her horse, running to him. When within reach, her hands frantically moved over him, trying to figure out his injuries- if he even had any. It was so difficult to tell through the blood. "Are you hurt?"

His hands had instinctively moved to her waist, keeping her in a vice grip. "You sweet woman. So concerned for me, you journeyed into a battle, unsure if it was over yet?"

"Well… yes… I guess so-"

"Hear that boys?" He called over his shoulder. "The lady cares for her new Lord."

They cheered and quipped various things in response, but she heard none of them. "Benji? What do you mean? Is your father-"

"-Dead," he finished for her. "Died to a Bracken sword. And I killed the Bracken. First blood of the new Lord's sword is one of a Bracken! Isn't that joyful?"

Her face fell. "Oh, Benji. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" He gawked at her, and a sinister smile came over his face. "I'm Lord Blackwood now. And you are my Lady. Are you not incandescently happy?"

"Benjicot. Are you hurt?"

He shook his head and pulled her closer. "I've never felt more alive," he growled in her ear. 

She gripped him by his biceps, her fingers catching on the metal armor around him. "You're different."

His fingers squeezed her hips. "I'm alive," was his answer.

Her head picked up to look up at his face. He was staring down at her, his lips parted. The two took a moment to truly drink the other in. 

Benjicot's hand came up to her face and cupped her cheek. The contact made her eyes close for a moment, not caring about the blood that smeared across her cheek. 

"My heart is pounding," he admitted.

She braved a move, pushing herself firmly against him and kissing his lips softly. 

A groan sounded from within him, and he soon dipped his head down to catch her lips further. The kiss deepened heavily, the two beginning to fight for dominance. Their breaths mixed between kisses. 

"I'm taking you back to Raventree," he panted. "Now. I can't wait any longer for a taste of you."

He shouted something over his shoulder at the guys, all of them waving or voicing a bye of sorts, obviously trying to give the lustful man a little privacy. 

He spoke as he tugged her along. "The gods have made you just for me, haven't they?"

"I'm beginning to believe they have."

A smirk came across his face. "They have. And I for you. I know how well you take me."

Her face flushed. "I don't know what you're talking ab-"

He dug his heel into the dirt, stopping them and tugging her to him. It caught her off guard, but he caught her with ease. "You do," he pushed. "You know very well what I mean." He leaned forward slowly, as if trying to earn the trust of prey. His face tucked into the crook of her neck, beginning to kiss and lightly suck at the skin. "The way you take me is my proof that the gods are in my favor."

"Not-" her breath caught when he nipped a sensitive spot. "Not your victory over the Brackens?"

"No," he quickly answered, as if it was obvious.

"How much further to your horse?" She softly asked.

He took a deep breath against her, savoring each passing second of being consumed by the very thought of her. "Depends on how many times I have to stop to admire you."

She smiled and tugged at his hair playfully. He groaned. 

…

Seemed that when violence moved through his veins, so did confidence. Not that she minded. Both Benjis were perfect to her.

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