#my last and only birthday parties were like two times | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

terrortwinunicorn · 2 days ago

Text

Wepa! It's A Wedding

Damian's POV

I woke up the next morning to see y/n nestled beside me, still lost in dreams. Today, we would be telling the last part of our Angelo and Ginger wedding story, but obviously, knowing Demi, she'll want to hear about y/n being Sandy and me traveling across the state to be at her opening night performance, Bruno and Claudine's fortieth wedding anniversary, and Angelo's fourteenth birthday party. We still had so many more memories to share.

Y/N moans lightly and not her normal morning her joints are stiff moan. It's not even the moan I earn while we make love. It's her something bad is happening moan. She whimpers in fear before she let out a blood curdling scream. Her eyes flew open and she sat up so quickly she gave me whiplash. She's panting and tears were streaming down her face.

I quickly sat up and wrapped her in a hug. She hugged me so tight that I felt the breath temporarily leave my body as her body slammed into mine. She is crying uncontrollably and shaking, and I rub her back.

"Baby, what's wrong? What was the dream about?" I asked.

"It was him again. He was chasing me but it was different. He hurt you and Luis; I had to watch him do it," she cried. "He then grabbed me, throwing me to the ground and he, he, he, he," she starts to hyperventilate.

"Shh. You're safe," I soothe "He is in jail remember?" I remind her gently. She nodded but didn't say anything "And besides I would kill him with my bare hands. He would never get near you," I kissed the side of her head laying back down and holding her "I promise you. He will never be able to get near you."

"I, I, I, I, I'm so sorry Luis," she cries as she holds me close.

"It's okay, amor," I kiss the top of her head. "How about you and I take a relaxing bath? It's only seven. Maybe a warm bath will help calm you down."

She shook her head. "No. Just hold me," she sniffles.

"Okay. I will just hold you," I said. She snuggled into me. She sighed and it sounded like she allowed the weight of the world off her shoulders.

"Gracias amor de mi vida," she whispers, her fear slowly seeping into the air. I continue to hold her and rub her back. I kiss her forehead as she holds onto me.

"Eres bienvenido, amor de mi vida," I said as there's a knock on the bedroom door. "Enter," I said.

The door opened and Demi poked her head around it. "Everything okay? We heard the most terrifying scream."

"Everything is fine. I just had a bête noire," y/n said quietly as we still laid in bed.

"A what?!" asked Demi entering the room.

"Bête noire," y/n laughs lightly, "It's French for black beast. Black beast is basically a being invading your dreama causing a nightmare," she explains as Demi sat on the end of y/n's and my bed.

Demi put a hand on my foot, probably thinking it was y/n's, and squeezed it. "My God y/n, your foot is HUGE!" she said.

"Sis that's my foot," I said.

"Sorry," Demi said making the oops face as she removed her hand.

"My foot is here," giggles y/n as she wiggles her foot under the covers.

Demi put her hand on the correct foot and squeezed it. "You okay?" she asked, y/n.

"I'm fine. I am very lucky to have Luis here this time," y/n pats my chest.

"Do you have those *bête noires* often?!" Demi asked.

"Not as often as I used to," Y/N admits. "But they do reoccur, especially around the same time every year. Luckily, Luis isn't as busy with house shows anymore."

"We all aren't. House shows are few and far between now," said Demi "Which is nice because we actually have some down time."

Y/N nods "I like it because I get more snuggles," y/n grins as she snuggled into me.

"That's one of my favorite things too. Plus, I get to spend each night practically with you in my arms," I said, kissing y/n's forehead, making y/n sigh softly.

"I will give you two some time," said Demi "You want me to make breakfast?"

"How about we go out for breakfast for a change?!" I asked.

"Can we go to Delicioso Desayuno?" asked y/n, sitting up and looking down at me with a huge smile.

"What is Delicioso Desayuno?" asked Demi.

"Only the best Puerto Rican breakfast outside of Luis's or Mamá's," said y/n looking at Demi.

Demi laughed lightly "I'll take your word for it," she said.

"They have the most amazing tortilla de plátano, quesito, and they have the second best mofongo after Mamá's," said y/n licking her lips, and I can tell whatever fear she had was now gone.

I chuckled "Let's go before you start to drool," I said sitting up.

Y/N subconsciously wipes her mouth "I'm not drooling," she said.

"I know that, but you're about to. Let's go there, get you your amazing tortilla de plátano, and quesito," I said, kissing her cheek.

"I'm going to let Matt know we're going to breakfast," Demi said, standing. "I'll give you two time to get ready."

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

Delicioso Desayuno

I parked the car and we all exited y/n's SUV. I took y/n's hand as we walked to the entrance of one of y/n's and my favorite restaurants. We actually stumbled upon it years ago when we first moved to Orlando.

"I think you two are really going to enjoy it," y/n said as I opened the door, ushering y/n through before allowing Demi in, and I followed Matt in before rejoining y/n.

"I do too," I said, lacing my fingers with y/n's as we walked up to the counter.

"Cuántos?" asked the greeter behind the counter. (How many?)

"Cuatro," I said. (Four)

The greeter grabbed four menus and silverware and led us to a table. He set down the menus and silverware.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly," the greeter informed us.

I held y/n's chair. "Gracias, amor," she said as she sat.

"De nada, mi hermosa esposa," I said as I sat beside y/n while Matt held the chair for Demi.

"Thank you, Babe," said Demi as she sat across from me. Matt sat beside Demi, and across from y/n.

"You're welcome," said Matt as the waiter walked over to the table.

"Hello. My name is Shawn. I'll be your waiter today. Can I start you off with something to drink?" he asked.

"Coffee," said Demi and Matt together.

"Orange Juice," said y/n.

"I'll have the same as the beautiful lady to my right," I said smiling at y/n as Shawn wrote down our drink orders before hurrying off.

"So," said Demi as she began studying the menu, as "Before Your Love" by Kelly Clarkson plays over the restaurant's speakers. "When are we going to hear about the wedding?"

"We can start after breakfast," I said. "Or," my attention is drawn to y/n, who was singing quietly but loud enough for our table to hear.

Demi smiles softly as y/n begins The Power of Love by Céline Dion. She is absolutely absorbed in the menu, she doesn't realize she's singing.

"Does she?" Demi asked quietly as Matt looked over the top of his menu. His eyebrows raised but he smiled nonetheless.

"Nope," I said as y/n sings along with the song, "She's doing better. Otherwise, she wouldn't be singing."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Y/N said as the waiter placed her juice down.

"Just drink your juice, Shelby," I laughed.

Y/N glanced over at me, a small smirk on her face. "Clever M'Lynn," she teased.

I let out a hearty laugh before kissing her forehead. "Doing better, Babe?" I asked.

She nods as 'I Swear' by All-4-One began. Y/N and I both started laughing. Demi and Matt were looking at us like we had gone bonkers.

"This was supposed to be the song that played while," y/n began, "You'll see. It's part of the wedding."

"Then can we start?" begs Demi.

"After breakfast. On the car ride back home. For now, let's talk about something else, like how you two will be leaving after today's story, allowing y/n and me to have newlywed time," I interject with a raised eyebrow.

"I think that's fair," said Matt. "They literally had their wedding night alone. We have been at their place for nearly two weeks."

"Okay. But I still want story times," said Demi.

"As long as you limit the interruptions," y/n smirks.

Demi opened and closed her mouth. "Fine," she grumbles.

"Then we can make Tuesdays story times. Since you work Mondays, Demi, Matt goes to work on Wednesdays, and Luis works Fridays. And weekends are date nights for Luis and me," says y/n.

"Sounds fair," I said "Especially since I have to travel on Thursdays for the following day."

"Sounds fair to me too. You come home early on Tuesday. We have dinner together, whether it be at the Martinez's or our place," said Matt, and y/n giggles lightly beside me.

"What?" I asked.

"The Martínez's," she grinned. "I still can't believe that."

I smiled. "Me either," I admitted.

"Te amo, esposo," she said, cupping my cheek as I rest my forehead against hers.

"Te amo, esposa," I said, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"You know you two make me have to see a dentist on the daily with all the sugar you two dish out," Demi teases playfully.

Y/N giggles as she looked at Demi. "Sorry Sis," she said. "But what can I say," she looked at me before placing her hand on top of mine. "I can't help myself."

"Sugarpie Honey Bunch," I chuckled and Matt and Demi exchanged glances before they shrugged.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

We ate breakfast and had small talk about how odd it was that Demi and I were no longer travel buddies. How working on Fridays made it hard for Y/N and me to have little weekend getaways unless she came with me. The conversation was light and easy.

As we approached y/n's SUV, Demi ran ahead to the car, with Matt hanging back with us as y/n and I walked hand in hand, after y/n had gotten sick by the entrance and puked in a bush by the corner of the building where she had run to.

"You okay?" Matt asked y/n as he carried the leftovers. Demi was busily unlocking the SUV and getting it started so we could just get in and leave.

She nods, but I could tell she was not doing too well. The nausea was brought on quickly, as was the tossing of her cookies all over the bush.

"That poor bush," mutters y/n.

I chuckled, "Babe, I think it's been through a lot worse than you upchucking on it. After all, this is Florida." Y/N gave me a weak smile as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "Let's go home."

She nodded as I helped her into the SUV. She buckles as I got into the driver's seat.

"You okay y/n?" asked Demi.

I pulled out of the parking spot and headed down the road.

Y/N nodded, "Fine. I don't know what happened. I normally can eat tortilla de plátano without any problems. But today," y/n paled, "Luis, stop the car!"

I slammed on the brakes and quickly pulled over as y/n unbuckles before she opened the door and spilled her guts onto the pavement below.

"Babe," I said placing a hand on her back. She shook her head.

I glanced into the rear view mirror and saw the comcern etched across the faces of Demi and Matt.

"Y/N?" said Demi.

"I'm fine," she said as she sat back up and buckled "Can we just go home? I wanna change into comfy clothes and walk down memory lane well this portion of memory lane."

"Of course," I said, taking her hand and lacing our fingers before kissing the back of her hand. "Thank God we got ginger ale at home."

Y/N sleepily looks over at me and nods; when she was ill, it took everything out of her.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

We arrived back at our place, y/n's and my place. She went upstairs and took a shower before changing into something more comfortable.

"Feeling a bit better, amor?" I asked as I opened my arms. She sat beside me and snuggled into me.

"A bit. But I would feel better listening to you tell the story of Angie and Ginger's wedding," she said, laying her head on my chest before draping her arm across my torso.

"Okay," I said, kissing the top of her head as she snuggled even further into me, a content sigh leaving her lips.

Demi brought in some ginger ale and saltines for y/n. "Here you go, sis," she said before sitting beside Matt. "Alright, time to finish the story."

"Thank you, sis," said y/n taking a sip of ginger ale.

"You're welcome," said Demi, as she settled back into the sofa.

"Okay. Fourth of July fell on a Monday in two thousand and five," I began.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

Monday, July 4th,2005

Y/N and I woke up the same way we fell asleep. Tangled in each other's arms and stark naked.

"Mm,Morning," I said as y/n's eyes fluttered open.

Y/N settled into me "Morning," she murmured as I kissed her cheek.

"How did you sleep?" I asked.

"Well after we fucked?" she blushes "Like a baby. Your dick is definitely a good pacifier."

I chuckled but blushed "Thanks," I said kissing her cheek again "But we have to get up, dressed and over to the Ottomanos in hour."

"Mm. What if I want to spend time here with you?" she murmured as she grabbed my hand, kissing the palm.

"As much as that sounds like heaven on Earth, we are part of the wedding," I said as she snuggled into me more.

Y/N grumbled lightly, "Fine," she said as we untangled ourselves.

We reluctantly got separate showers and dressed before heading downstairs, where Pops has made homemade sausage and egg sandwiches.

"Those are so you can eat and run," said Pops.

"Thanks," we said.

"I will see you two later at the wedding," said Pops "Your garment bags are hanging up by the door."

"Thank you Señor Martínez," said y/n.

"You're welcome y/n," Pops said.

"Luis, I will meet you later. I have to go over to Bruno and Claudine's because Ginger and her bridal party need to be at the venue to get our hair and makeup done." She kissed my cheek before grabbing a breakfast sandwich and left.

"Luis, before you go, I need to talk to you," Pops said, gesturing to the chairs.

"What's up, Pops?" I asked as I sat down.

"I don't know how to start," he said.

I gulped "Is everything okay? Are you sick?" I asked.

"No. I'm fine. Perfectly healthy," he said but paused as he massaged his temples. I know he was trying to figure out how to tell me what he needed to say. "It's about last night."

"Last night?" I asked, suddenly feeling as if the air had been ripped from my lungs.

"Yes. I, well I heard you and y/n," he said.

I felt my heart leap into my throat. "You heard us?" I asked.

"I did. Were you two at least safe?" he asked.

"If you mean did we use a condom? Then yes we were safe," I said slowly "Pops don't let y/n know you heard us. I will let her know."

"Fine by me," said Pops "But you better head to the Ottomans now."

"Okay. I will see you at the wedding then," I said.

"See you at the wedding," he said.

I walked from the kitchen to the front door, grabbing my garment bag before leaving the house.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

I arrived at the Ottomano residence just as y/n and Bianca were leaving to get on the limo bus.

"Hey there," I grinned, "Got a sec?" I asked while taking Y/N's hand.

"Uh, now?" asked y/n. "Luís, I kinda gotta get on the bus," she gestures to the bus as Bianca climbed onto it.

"It's kinda important," I said.

"Okay. What's wrong?" she asked, her demeanor changing. "I know I heard your pops stop you from leaving."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Yeah, that's why we need to talk. I'm just going to lay it out there. Pops heard us being intimate last night."

"He what?" asked y/n all color instantly draining from her face.

"Pops heard us having sex," I said.

Y/N let out a breath of air that sounded like she was deflating a balloon. She swallowed hard before looking at me. "So he heard us. Was he? Is he upset?"

"No. He just wanted to make sure we were safe," I said, "I reassured him we used protection."

"Good," said y/n as Bianca calls y/n's name from the bus. "Luis, I gotta go. I will see you at the end of the aisle."

"You will," I smiled before she pressed a kiss to my cheek and ran down the stairs to the bus.

I jumped when a hand was slapped on my shoulder. I spun to see Salvatore. He was already in his tuxedo. He was the best man..

"Hey, everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Good, then get in here. You have to get dressed. We have to be at the venue shortly," said Salvatore.

"Oh okay," I said.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

Arriving at Serenity Springs where the wedding and reception were being held, the place was abuzz with activity.

Angelo and those standing up for him, myself included, were led to the groom's quarters. The wedding was taking place outside at the gazebo in the center of the gardens.

I am lost in my own thoughts when I get a poke to the ribs. I looked around; it's Angelo.

"Bro where did you go?" he asked.

"Nowhere and everywhere at the same time," I said, buttoning my shirt cuff. "How are you?"

"Nervous but thankful this is almost over especially I can finally tune out Karen," he said.

I snorted back a laugh. "But you still have to put up with her. She's, after all, your mother-in-law after you say I do and Layla's grandmother."

"Don't let her hear you say the g word. She'll eliminate you where you stand," said Angelo, as Salvatore helps him with his tie.

"Heaven forbid she's recognized as a grandmother. Is that why Layla refers to her as Karen?" I asked.

"Yup. Layla calls Ma and Pops Gammy and PawPaw, but Karen and George?! They're Karen and George; neither one wants to be referred to as grandma and grandpa or anything else that makes them sound old," explained Angelo.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

"They sound great," Demi said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Karen and George nearly had a stroke when Layla had her daughter, Tegan, last year. They said they're too young to be great grandparents," y/n murmured as she snuggled into me. I rubbed her arm and she sighed contently.

"Does Ginger allow grandma?" asked Demi.

"She does. And Claudine is Nonna," y/n explained.

Demi's eyes teared up at Nonna. "How sweet," she said with a smile.

"You okay?" asked y/n.

"Yeah. I just love that Tegan has a Nonna too," said Demi.

"Teagan is lucky to have Claudine," y/n said.

"She is," I agreed.

"Back to the story!" said Demi.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

The guys and I were watching the guests arrive and being seated by the wedding planner's assistants.

"How many people are coming?" I asked Angelo.

"On my side one hundred. On Ginger's side? Only two hundred and fifty," said Angelo.

"Three hundred and fifty people? Holy fuck," I said.

"Yeah. Hence why Ma and Pops said, if you want that many people, you should pay for the wedding," said Angelo.

"And they actually agreed to that?" I asked.

"You have never seen Ma angry, have you?" said Angelo.

"No," I said.

"Let's say it's not pretty," said Angelo as we are led outside to get ready to head down the aisle.

The wedding planner's assistant lined us up: Angelo at the beginning with the officiant, Salvatore behind them, and I was behind Salvatore, with six other men behind me.

The wedding planner's assistant taps Ginger's brother on his shoulder, signaling for him to start down the aisle, as Four Seasons began playing.

After Ginger's brother, Harrison, there were two friends of Angelo's from his work: Daniel Hartman and Jack Lauren. Then, his cousins on his mom's side: Ezra Grant, Keegan Grant, and Jeremy Dugan, and then me.

As I walked down the aisle I spot Pops and he gives me a smile and quick wink. I give him a smile and a quick nod. At the top of the aisle I stood in front of Jeremy who is 5'9" so the height difference was noticeable and I caught Karen out of the corner of my eye looking like she sucked on a lemon.

I shook my head, trying to hide a smirk as I saw Karen lean over to George, gesturing to me, and he nods as he mumbled something to her.

The first to come down the aisle were friends of Ginger's: Laney Hilton, Mallory Madison, Jayne Carrington, Michelle Graham, Ashlee Prescott, and Catherine St. James. They wore dresses of aquamarine. That's when my eyes fell on y/n at the top of the aisle. She looks gorgeous in the spaghetti strap, tea-length (so I'm told) A-line dress.

"Wepa," I said under my breath as Salvatore leaned back.

"She is gorgeous, isn't she?" he asked. I just nodded as my eyes were on y/n and y/n only.

Salvatore chuckled lightly as he moved back, and I caught y/n's eye as she winked at me. I felt my cheeks grow warm, so I knew I was blushing. I quickly winked and mouthed, 'You look gorgeous.' She blushed lightly and mouthed back, 'You look caliente.'

Once Ginger's best friend Tiffani Chance walked down the aisle, the song swelled into the wedding march. Ginger appeared at the top of the aisle. George had refused to walk Ginger down the aisle, so she stood there alone. I saw Angelo let out a slow breath as Layla waved at Ginger.

"Hi Mommy!" Layla called out, making everyone chuckle.

Ginger waves and blows Layla a kiss. Angelo quickly wipes away a tear. I caught y/n out of the corner of my eye. She smiles brightly as she dapes her eyes with a tissue.

Once Ginger made it to the top of the aisle. Ginger stopped.

"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" asked the officiant.

George grumbled as he stood "Unfortunately her mother and I do," he said before sitting.

The officiant looks at Ginger and Angelo who both signal to continue.

"If anyone can show just cause as to why these two should not be wed, let them speak now or forever hold their peace," the officiant started.

We all looked at Karen and George. They kept silent so Angelo took Ginger's hand and helped her up the stairs of the gazebo.

"We are gathered here today to join Angelo Michael Ottomano and Ginger Alison Fitzpatrick in holy matrimony," the officiant continues, "Angelo, do you take Ginger to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," said Angelo.

"Ginger, do you take Angelo to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?" asked the officiant.

"I do," said Ginger with a smile as tears began to fall.

"Angelo and Ginger have chosen to write their own vows," said the officiant, and Karen scoffed in her seat. Y/N turns her head, and I see the fire light in her eyes.

"Stuff it, Karen," y/n defiantly spats. "Let them do this. It's their wedding, not yours!" Karen looks at y/n, and y/n stands her ground. "Try me!"

Karen huffs and settles back in the chair. I smirk and cover my chuckle with a cough, as does Salvatore.

"Angelo and Ginger face each other and join hands," said the officiant. They did as they were told, "And begin when you want."

Angelo nods to Ginger telling her to go first.

"Angelo, when we met on the first day of kindergarten, I never imagined I had met my future husband and the father of my beautiful daughter. But today, as we stand before family and friends exchanging vows. I am the happiest I have ever been. Not only do you provide me with endless love, but also endless laughs and blessings. You make me happy and I honestly can't wait to walk into this new chapter in our lives. I love you more today than I did yesterday and I will love you more tomorrow than I do today."

Ginger smiles and I catch y/n dabbing her eyes. She looks at me and I wink at her. She blushes lightly as she looked at Ginger and Angelo as he took a deep breath.

"Ginger, you're the love of my life. When we met in kindergarten, I will admit I had the worst case of puppy love. As we went through the years and our bond grew closer, so did our love. I knew you were my forever. Now today, as we pledge our love to one another, I'm looking forward to the next chapter with you beside me. I love you, Ging," said Angelo.

"The rings please," said the officiant as Tiffany and Salvatore hand him their respective rings. He placed them on his book before holding one up, "The ring is a symbol of undying love. It has no beginning and no end. Angelo, please place this ring on Ginger's left hand and repeat after me..."

"Ginger, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness," said Angelo, sliding the ring onto Ginger's finger.

"Ginger, place this on Angelo's finger and repeat after me..."

"Angelo. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness," said Ginger sliding the ring onto Angelo's finger.

After that, Angelo and Ginger turned to the officiant. "What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. By the power invested in me by the great state of New Jersey, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Angelo, you may now kiss your wife," said the officiant as Angelo gave Ginger a sweet kiss before the officiant pressed on. "It's my pleasure to present to you the new Mr. and Mrs. Angelo, and Ginger Ottomano."

Angelo and Ginger turned to the guests, who rose to their feet, applauding, while Karen and George didn't. Angelo and Ginger had their hands interlaced as the processional music began. They walked down the steps before getting Layla from Mrs. Ottomano's lap. The small family walked up the aisle.

Salvatore offers his arm to Tiffany, and she laced her arm through his. I was up next, offering your name my arm, and she smiles at me as she laced her arm through mine.

"By the way, Squish, you look breathtakingly gorgeous," I whispered, as we walked up the aisle followed by the rest of the wedding party.

"Pookie, you're looking pretty caliente," she whispered as the wedding planner and his two assistants directed us to a small garden.

I chuckled as we got ready to take more photos while the guests had a cocktail hour. After about an hour or so of taking photos, we headed into the venue and to a small room to await introductions.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

The Reception....

Y/N and I are waiting with the rest of the wedding party. The DJ was hyping up the guests before introducing us. "Gettin' Jiggy With It" by Will Smith began.

"Introducing the wedding party," began the DJ, "Harrison Fitzpatrick and Laney Hilton," as they enter the ballroom. This continues until "Luis Martinez and y/n y/l/n." Y/n and I enter, dancing and laughing.

After Salvatore and Tiffani are introduced, we lined up to create a gauntlet: guys on the left, girls on the right. We raised our hands, creating an arch as the DJ began 'Celebration' by Kool and the Gang.

"Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Angelo and Ginger Ottomano!!!!!!" the DJ announced as Angelo and Ginger ran down the gauntlet and onto the dance floor, with the wedding party joining them as we all danced.

After the burst of energy we head to the wedding party table set up just behind the Sweetheart table for Angelo and Ginger. Y/N sat between Salvatore and me. To my left was another bridesmaid, Catherine St. James.

"Today has been fun," said y/n as she took a drink of water.

"Well, you certainly made it entertaining by putting Karen in her place," I smirk, as does y/n.

"That's why it's been fun," she laughs as she gives a sarcastic wave to Karen, who was staring at us.

"Y/N, stop," I playfully scold.

"What? I was waving to our dear Karen," she giggles as she brings the glass of water to her lips again, taking another drink.

I smirk and chuckled, "You are having way too much fun with this," I said.

"Moi?" y/n said, feigning innocence.

"Yes you," I said nudging her playfully.

"The bar is open," announced the DJ.

"You want your jack and coke?" I asked y/n.

"Actually, can you turn that into a piña colada? Because why not?" she quipped.

"You want two? One for each hand?" I chuckled, and Y/N's smile was like sunshine.

"Nice Garth Brooks nod, Luis," she chuckled, "but let's not go overboard, one is plenty!"

"One piña colada on the way," I said, kissing her temple before standing up.

I walked to the bar.

"What can I get you?" asked the bartender.

"A piña colada and Jack on the rocks," I said.

"You got it," he said, and went to work making the piña colada.

I felt a tap on my shoulder before a hand went down my back grazing my ass. I smirk thinking it's y/n.

"Cou-" I turned to see Lucia. "Oh, it's you. Never heard the term 'keep your hands to yourself'?" I asked.

"Oh you love it and you know it," coos Lucia as she took a drink through a stirring straw.

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe if it was y/n, I would, but you?" I raised an eyebrow. "Not so much. So what do you want, Lucia, besides wanting to grope me?"

"Oh Luis. Weddings are romantic," she coos as she runs a hand down my chest while I grab her wrist gently.

"For people who are together, which we are not."

"Oh, you're still on that? But silly, we are," she reaches up to touch my cheek, but I quickly step back.

"Don't touch me!" I said, looking at Lucia.

"But Luis," she pouts, "you used to like when I touched you." She steps forward as she reaches up to touch me again, but her hand is knocked away as y/n stepped in front of me.

"Lucia why don't you take a looooooong walk off a very short pier," sneers y/n.

Lucia scoffs as she placed her drink onto the bar "And if I don't?" she said stepping into y/n's space.

Y/N smirks as she expertly grabbed the nearly full drink Lucia sat down "I don't know you still might get a little wet," said y/n as she raised her hand and dumped the liquor onto Lucia's head. Lucia screams "next time Lucia leave Luis alone or you will be shoving a toothbrush up your ass to brush your teeth."

Lucia huffs as she walks away from us. Y/N turned to look at me. I chuckled, "You're a spitfire, do you know that?" I asked as the bartender set down our drinks.

"I've been told that," she remarked, as she sipped her piña colada, clearly enjoying the gossip.

I grabbed my jack on ice before kissing her forehead. "Let's get back to the table," I said, putting an arm around her waist, ushering through the stream of people that are waiting to get their drinks.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

After dinner, it was time for the dances. First up was the first dance. Karen nearly hit the roof since Angelo and Ginger chose 'I Swear' by All-4-One as the song for their first dance.

Y/N gives me a nudge and points at Karen, laughing, "She's gonna lose it; she's not thrilled about them picking 'I Swear' for the song."

"She's turning a nice shade of red," I chuckled.

Layla wonders onto the dance floor watching her parents sway to the song. Angelo and Ginger stopped and Angelo picked her up. They began dancing again. Y/N raised her camera taking a picture of the moment. I see the tears rising in her eyes.

"Crap," she murmured, using her cloth napkin to dab her eyes.

"You okay?" I whispered to her.

"Yeah. The moment just got to me. Lo siento," she said.

I smiled and said, "You've got nothing to feel bad about. I think it's sweet too," giving y/n's temple a kiss.

Y/N smiles at me before the DJ begins calling the wedding party. "Luis Martinez and Y/N Y/L/N," he called as I stood buttoning my suit jacket. I offered Y/N my hand, who smiled as she placed her hand in mine, standing. I led Y/N to the dance floor.

The DJ began 'You Had Me From Hello' by Kenny Chesney. I took y/n into my arms and we began dancing to the romantic ballad.

"Y/N?" I said as I glanced down at her.

She looked up at me, her gorgeous green eyes meeting mine. "Yes?" she said.

"Thanks for helping me out earlier," I said.

"You mean with Lucia?" she said. "No worries. I saw she wasn't getting the hint. No one comes after my bestie," she touched my cheek before caressing it with the side of her thumb, "I will always have your back, Luis."

"And I, yours y/n," I said.

"Siempre," she said with a smile, holding up her pinkie.

"Y para siempre," I said, hooking my pinkie with hers.

I bent down and kissed her forehead as we continued to dance. The song eventually ended and we walked back to the wedding party table as we watched Angelo and Mrs. Ottomano have the mother-son dance.

"Claude looks so happy and sad at the same time," y/n said.

"I know," I said draping my arm across the back of y/n's chair.

"I hope one day she can dance with you at your wedding, Sally," y/n said looking to Salvatore.

"One day, y/n. One day," Salvatore smiles.

"And I can't wait to dance the night away," y/n smiles "Especially with you," she looks at me "because obviously you're gonna be my plus one."

I felt my cheeks warm and knew I was blushing "That sounds like an amazing time," I said.

Salvatore chuckled "Y/N you're gonna be my best woman," he said as y/n turns to look at him a smile painting her lips.

"Really? Honestly thought you would ask Angelo to be your best man," she said.

"And have him plan my bachelor party? You have met him, right? God only knows what debauchery he would plan," he said. "You would at least take my wishes into consideration."

"Then it would be my honor," she said as Salvatore kissed her forehead.

"Luis, promise me you will be my plus one?" she begs as she turns to me.

"He will be a groomsman y/n," said Salvatore "He will be at your side," he nudges her.

She grins before looking at me. I raised an eyebrow, "Are you serious?" I asked.

"Deadly," said Salvatore. "We have known each other since you were thirteen," he said. smiles "I consider you one of my friends."

"Well then yes. I would be honored when you do get married to stand up for you," I smile.

"Fantastic," smiled Salvatore as did y/n.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

"And when Salvatore married Giovanni a few years ago we kept our promise," I said.

"And what was awesome about it is that Claude was just as happy dancing with Sally as she was dancing with Angie at his wedding. But Sally's wedding is another story for another day, mi amor. We got sidetracked," y/n laughs lightly.

"You're right. How about we skip to the garter toss and bouquet toss?" I chuckled. Y/N tilted her head up and smiled at me.

"I don't think they wanna hear that," giggles Y/N.

"Hi Demi Bennett-Adams. Pleasure to meet you," said Demi, extending her hand.

"Hi Demi. I'm Y/N Martínez, pleasure to meet you," Y/N giggles.

"I would very much love to hear about the garter and bouquet tosses," Demi said with a giant grin.

"You would?!" y/n teases. "I couldn't have guessed."

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

"Single gentlemen come to the dance floor for the garter toss," said the DJ.

I stood up along with a couple of the other groomsmen, Ezra Grant and Jeremy Dugan, as did some of the guests. We headed to the dance floor as one of the wedding planner's assistants set a chair on the dance floor, just as Angelo led Ginger onto the dance floor.

Y/N and some of the other girls from the wedding party stood off the side of the dance floor as the DJ began Dancing In The Streets by Martha Reeves & The Vandellas. Angelo knelt in front of Ginger. Y/N covered her eyes as she knew Angelo would do something stupid. Y/N peeked through her fingers causing me to chuckle beside Ezra.

Angelo smiles at Ginger, gently lifting some of the material of her tulle skirt and placing it underneath. Y/N smirks lightly as she glances sideways at Karen, biting back a laugh as I turn to see Karen turning beet red. I quickly move from my spot over to Y/N.

"She is about to blow," I chuckle as y/n snaps a picture of Karen with her digital camera.

"I know, and I love it!" y/n giggles as I put an arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

"I can see," I smirk as she glances up at me.

"Luis, you can't tell me you don't," she says, elbowing me lightly as she snaps a picture of Angelo underneath Ginger's skirt. Claudine was cradling a thankfully sleeping Layla. "Thank God Layla is asleep."

I nodded, "Yeah," I said as I tilted my head. "What the fuck is he doing?" before looking at y/n.

"With Ange? I’m not ready for that rollercoaster," she chuckles, her smile making my heart do a quick tango.

I smile with a nod "That's true," I said as Angelo finally emerged from underneath the skirt with the garter in his mouth.

"Get your game face on for that garter! If I snag the bouquet, you’re on garter duty," she joked, giving me a playful nudge.

“Okay. Okay,” I said, putting my hands up as I chuckled, heading back to the group of guys getting ready to catch the garter. I stood behind them once Angelo turned his back to us.

"One. Two. Three!" said Angelo before throwing the garter over his right shoulder. I caught it. I see you cheer as it landed in my hand. Angelo laughed as I held up the garter.

“Now all the single ladies!” calls the DJ. The run for the bouquet became like a herd of elephants. I caught y/n as she was knocked off kilter.

“Thanks, Pookie,” she said with a smile as I set her back on her feet.

“De nada, Squish. Now catch that bouquet,” I kissed her forehead as she joined the group of single ladies.

I stood aside, watching Ginger shine on the dance floor to 'The Bitch Is Back' by Elton John, while Karen looked like she was ready to throw a tantrum!

Ginger faked throwing the bouquet a few times. A few of the girls knocked Y/N forward lightly, but she caught herself. I let out a breath of relief as I knew she wasn't hurt. When Ginger finally threw the bouquet over her head, it sailed right into Y/N's hand. Her mouth dropped.

“WOOOOOO!” yells y/n, holding the bouquet over her head. I chuckled as she ran over to me. “I did it, Pookie!!!”

“I can see that,” I chuckle.

“Now you,” she taps me with the bouquet on my stomach, “get to,” she taps me with the bouquet on the chest, a smile on her lips, “to put the garter on me!” She taps me with the bouquet on the shoulder as I put a hand on her hip.

“Better get ready,” I grin at her before Ginger and Angelo pulled us onto the dance floor.

“Let's go!!!” laughed Angelo as Ginger got y/n to sit onto the chair.

The DJ began playing "Hey Mr. DJ (Keep Playin' This Song)" by Backstreet Boys.

I began chuckling as Y/N blushes, covering her face as I caught her doing her "sexy dance" to it one Summer night in 1998, when I looked into her bedroom window at the Ottomanos from my bedroom as they looked into each other's rooms. I hooted, and she ducked under the window sill.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

“Please tell that story at some point!” said Demi.

“That was the summer of 1998; we will get to it eventually,” y/n giggles lightly as she sat up. “Babe, continue. I have to use the bathroom.”

“You okay?” I asked.

"Fine. I just have to pee,” she said, kissing my cheek. “Excuse me.”

I watched as she left, and I quickly turned to Demi and Matt.

“Where was I?” I asked.

"Getting ready to put the garter on y/n,” said Demi.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

As the bass of the song filled the ballroom of Serenity Springs, I began dancing, making y/n start giggling as she punched my shoulder while I got on my knees in front of her.

“Luis Berrios, you're trouble,” she shouted at me, but no one but me heard her.

“The best kind of trouble, y/n y/m/n,” I smirk.

She rolls her eyes before I kiss her cheek, and then I begin putting on the garter on y/n's leg. I felt my heart skip a beat as she looked me in the eyes while I do so. She winks at me. Once on, I stood helping y/n to her feet, and she began dancing to the song.

The DJ was watching y/n as she moved to the song, as some of the guys in attendance began cat calling and yelling 'Hey Mr. DJ keep playin' this song for me'.

“Dance floor is opened,” says the DJ as he began 'Kiss' by Prince. The wedding planner's assistant removed the chair, and y/n quickly threw the bouquet to Jaymes as he sat at the nearest table. Then, she grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the floor.

“I take it we are dancing?!” I said into her ear. She bit her lip and nodded as she began grinding against me. “Squish, remember our parents are here! Y/N, at least half of the guests on Angelo's side are your family!”

“And?” she asked looking at me as the dance floor was full of couples bumping and grinding “We are over eighteen!”

“Okay, fair,” I said as the DJ began "I Could Never Take The Place Of Your Man" by Prince. Y/N squeaks as we began dancing, and Y/N was singing along.

Salvatore and Jaymes joined us on the dance floor and Salvatore and y/n began hopping and bopping along to the song. I continued to move as y/n bounced back to me as Salvatore was to her right and Jaymes was to my left.

“Pookie let's have fun!” she said as we groove to the instrumental interlude of the six minutes and twenty-nine seconds song.

“You’re right!” as the song picks up in tempo before 1999 by Prince began. I chuckled as Angelo played this non-stop from January first nineteen ninety-nine to December thirty first nineteen ninety-nine, as he made sure it played at his New Year’s Eve party that y/n also was at.

“Sally, did you arrange this Prince tribute?” giggles y/n as she leans towards Salvatore.

"Duh! It's Prince!" laughed Salvatore.

“Your reception better be non stop Prince and Michael Jackson songs!” she laughs.

“You know that's right Mio piccolo tesoro!” says Salvatore.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

“That night went on forever. Poor Pops stayed until the very end. After all, he was y/n's and my ride home,” I said, as y/n had rejoined us a while ago but had fallen asleep on my chest.

“Mm. That was one of the most fun weddings we ever attended, at least until Sally and Gio's,” she murmured as she stirred awake.

“But another story for our Tuesday story nights,” I said, kissing her forehead. “But for now, I think it's time we go to sleep.”

“I'm kinda sad to see this story end,” said Demi with a small frown.

“I know but we have Tuesdays to now look forward to. So first Tuesday where will it be our place or yours?” I asked looking at Demi and Matt as y/n sat up and stretched as "The Most Beautiful Girl In The World" by Prince plays softly in the background.

“It only seems right to host you two,” said Matt.

“I agree,” said Demi glancing at him before looking at us. “Next Tuesday we host you two.”

“What do you want us bring?” asked y/n.

“Just yourselves,” said Demi.

“Mm. 'Kay,” y/n yawns.

“Let's get to bed. We will, after all, be saying goodbye to our guests tomorrow,” I said.

“Like we agreed,” said Matt.

And just like that, the story of Angelo and Ginger's wedding week was officially over. But Storytime Tuesdays was only beginning.

Tag List: @eringobragh420 @magicalbuttertarts @madhatterbri @keekee-23 @loki69zowens @caramara3 @bloodlinesbabe93 @miss-kuki-nz @surdelcielo @elaineoneill570 @hotwheels1108 @violetpenguinkris @southerngothicpunk @silassstingy @beccalynns-world @twistedprincess-92 @80sprincess1 @hardcoredisneynerd @brideofinfamy @mzv11 @bangchansmami @mamis-girly

I hope you all enjoyed the Another Storytime series. Stay tuned for more in the Best Friends Series. 💜🖤

#damian priest #damian priest fanfic #damian priest fluff #damian priest smut #damian priest imagine #damian priest x female reader #damian priest x reader #damian priest x y/n #damian priest oneshot #wwe #wwe fluff #wwefanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut

30 notes · View notes

i-restuff · 1 year ago

Text

I had a European exchange student who lived with me for a short while. One of her culture shocks was that, I didn't care much about my birthday. It's not in a sad way either; I just go on my day like a normal day, which is pretty common here.

No cakes, no gifts (sometimes. but if not, that's fine as well), no party – you get the point. If I do want to celebrate, I'll just buy myself a burger and a random candle for fun, stuff like that. it is all my choice btw.

This culture shock went on whenever her classmates had a birthday. They were either like, 'cool, thanks,' didn't care, or were shy and tried to ignore that they had a birthday at all. I'm not saying that none of us celebrate; it's just very common for us to not celebrate it as well.

I don't know—she was genuinely surprised about it. So from my perspective, birthdays are a huge deal in her hometown.

And I'm curious,

#sorry if this question seems stupid #my perspective on birthdays is solely based on where I live #my last and only birthday parties were like two times #when I was 9 and 18 #and I hate it lmao #also for reference- I'm Indonesian #poll.txt #ramble.txt

1K notes · View notes

screampied · 5 months ago

Text

#THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY. g. suguru

☆ sum. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.

wc. 6.9k (h.. haha)

warnings. fem! reader, stripper au, stripper! geto, unprotected, lap dancīng, dry humping, switch geto, lots of riding, 69, finishing too quick, choking, geto has nīpple piercings, hair pulling, spīt, dirty talk, he licks champagne off you, nīpple play, breedīng, praise, **** cameo :), petnames.

an. ty to the ppl who voted on my poll <3 kinda scared to post this LOL. this came on a whim ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

➤ kinktober mlist.

“i understand your body wants it. i know your thoughts, oh you ‘bout it ‘bout it . . ”

the erotic lyrics that blared through the club’s abject speakers nearly deafened your ears the moment you stepped inside. you were flashed with a plethora of luminescent jade lights as you read a glowing sign near the bar that read ‘welcome to the vixxxen lounge.’ your friends, who decided to surprise you for your birthday with nothing more than a girls’ trip to a men’s strip club told you they’d be getting drinks if you need them. of course . . that was probably code for: going to spend time near the private rooms.

apparently, it’s ‘happy hour’ which meant countless discounts—and you’d already had your two individual sessions paid for by one of your friends. crisp aerating air waves from the air conditioner chills against your skin as you lean against the bronzy brick pillar. you gather your surroundings, eyeing the oily attractive glossed men that entertained the screaming crowds of thirsty women. the wide stage was spacey, and it almost looked like a concert—you started to wonder just who you were paired up with. but right as you’re pondering deep in thought, there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

“miss.”

you turn around to face probably the most attractive man you’ve laid your eyes upon. he’s tall with lengthy long hair — tangled black tresses of strands that reach just about past his shoulders. you couldn’t help but openly gawk a bit . . finding your eyes to leisurely trail down toward his skimpy attire. near his neck, he had a stained smooch of a lip stick mark that was a dark shaded red. you then noticed a few hundred dollar bills stuck in between his red thin straps.

this guy, it appeared he was dressed as some kind of firefighter. he had on the helmet along with the matching baggy yellow pants, but was completely topless. the only thing that went against his chiseled pecs was the skinny straps that attached onto the belts of his pants.

“heyy,” he waves a hand in your face, arching a brow.

“o- oh, sorry,” you bashfully murmur, mentally cursing yourself out for wandering off into space again. embarrassing, embarrassing. fishing for your vip pass that gave you direct access to one of the secluded private rooms—you dig it out your pocket, staring down at the assigned dancer and room number. “are you uh . . geto?”

“i am. but ah, suguru’s fine,” he murmurs, and he takes your pass, putting the temperature lanyard over your neck. geto’s fingers brush against your skin and you nearly shudder.

his touch.. it felt like sparks of electricity, and near the far distance by the crowded stage, your friends waved at you. with a throaty, “follow me, birthday girl,” he swiftly turns his heels and starts making a beeline toward the back of the club. you follow him, continuing to eye his costume.

but phew, he had quite the ass.

but anyway—that’s not the point.

it never really occurred to you how all the male strippers had specific costumes—you were far too entranced by geto. it was probably because of how halloween was only a mere few weeks away, so it’d make sense how they’d be ordered to get into the spirit of things.

“and imma let you do it how you wanna girl i’ll riiiide with it, riiiide with it . . ”

the lyrics of that catchy same song that resounded through the speakers of the club grew louder—and as he guided you inside the dimly red lit room, he makes you lie back against a cushioned sofa. there’s a few piles of money scattered near the front, and you didn’t count but that amount could make anyone filthy rich.

geto rubs the back of his neck, rolling it around to stretch before he glances down at you. you struggle to look him in the eye and a faint smile creases across his lips.

you’re new, and he could tell you weren’t used to such carnal provocative environments.

“relaaax, pretty girl,” his voice was low purr. the way he talked was soothing, a good amount of teasing and playfulness. right at his words, your shoulders slumped and you lean back.

the air around you seems to close in, getting thicker ‘n thicker before he makes you haul your arms over the edges of the couch. “comfy?” and he doesn’t do anything else until you give him a subtle complying nod. geto takes off his amber-colored helmet before putting it on your head. “lean back. just focus on me.”

“o . . okay,” you exhale, and your eyes finally meet his.

the fake firefighter helmet crooks, tilting a bit to the side over the crown of your head as you watch him starting to sway to the bass dropping beats. you gulp as he gets closer . . and closer, following the exact steps to his usual routine before he gets on your lap.

he’s so pretty, and now that his helmet was off of him, you got an even more view of his face. geto starts to slowly grind against you, one hand resting near back of the couch that’s next to your shoulder. he’s fully in sync with the song that booming blares in the background.

the friction. he was moving up against you, and you couldn’t help but glance down his glossy chest. his legs were huge, and you didn’t even notice the clamped silver piercings that stuck against his reddened nipples. “is this okay?” he whispers, and you already feel yourself starting to heat up. the a/c was blasting—and yet, you felt like it was over a hundred degrees.

“ ‘s okay,” you breathlessly say, feeling your facial expressions serene. geto swiftly gets off you, and he starts to rock and grind his hips against the floor.

he’s slow and precise—each movement matches the following before he sits up, flicking against the straps of his costume. fuck, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you knew he was probably used to this . . seeing so many women at a time, giving them a thirty minute private dance and going on with his day.

geto had charisma and lots lots of it.

it was ironic because he didn’t even have to say anything. throughout the duration of his entire routine, he let his hips do the rest of the talking. speaking of hips, you’ve never seen a more a slutty waist.

it’s unapologetically snatched, and you start to envision seeing his face plastered on every cover of a a men’s vogue magazine. he’s gorgeous—and the second he’s back in your lap again, he leans into the crook of your neck. “hey,” he repeats, and his voice was a lot more pitched and lower. it’s a dirty kind of husky that makes you clench your thighs together. as he’s up close—you get a whiff of his cologne. it’s quite loud, and you’d guess the scent was something between bergamot and rich aromatic oak moss. “do you wanna touch me?”

a breath gets trapped in the back of your clogged throat at the question.

geto continues to gradually grind his hips into you as pretty black strands of his hair tickles near your shoulders. “y- yes,” and the words smoothly flow from your lips like smooth molasses of chocolate.

geto was patient, and he wanted to make you comfortable—that was his number one priority.

he speaks in a more rough yet sly tone. “ ‘m gonna grab your wrists okay? just feel me,” and you feel mentally prepare yourself. biting down on your bottom lip—you mouth a soft, ‘okay,’ and geto gently grabs your wrists.

he’s still slowly jerking his hips against you, matching each sultry beat of the song. the base of the chorus rang through your ears and the lyrics flowed through once ear ‘n out the other.

as you stare up at him, he makes you press your hands firmly against his shaven flexing chest. sheets of slicking sweat that covers the top part of his body coats on your hands and you cutely furrow your brows. “heh, oh sorry love. ‘m a bit sweaty, hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“it’s f . . fine,” you utter, and he resumes to guide your hands. his chest was as hard as a brick, and you felt how his muscles would freely tense.

god, geto was a literal sculpture. you probably looked stupid with how you kept openly staring at his perfectly carved abs. an entire six pack - each section even more strenuously ripped than the first.

as you continue to gawk, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets—you feel him shifting his weight a bit so he wouldn’t crush you. your thumb snags against his pierced nipple and he grunts, breaking character for a second. he lets off a cute snarl. “sorry! i didn’t-”

“sweetheart, it’s okay,” he hums, releasing a low puff of air. so he was sensitive there, noted.

as he continues, he makes your hands reach lower. the thin straps of his costume glide against your plump fingertips before he stops at his fading raven-colored happy trail.

black ‘n bushy . . you could make out every single tiny speck of hair that stuck against the lower part of his abdomen if you squinted, and you did.

the rest was hiding underneath the upper hem part of his prop turnout pants. “now ‘m gonna let go of my hands,” he whispers, eyeing you intently.

it was so much lustful ardor in the air. the more you stared at the dancer, the more you started questioning why the hell you never visited a strip club sooner. a question that was probably gonna remain unanswered..

“ . . ‘n ‘m gonna let you do whatever you want while i finish.” he concludes his sentence, and as if his hands were attached to your own with adhesive velcro, geto slowly pulls away.

now, it’s just your two balmy palms pressing against his chest. you take it upon yourself to drag an invisible line down his flat sleek cheek with your fingers.

your hands then find themselves reaching for a few papery fifty dollar bills, tossing it at his glossed grinding body. geto sighs with a cunning simper, continuing to rock his slim hips into your lap. “that’s it, feel me princess. ‘m all yours.”

and in a way – he was.

it was only you two in the room, and yet it felt like you ‘n suguru were the only people on earth. the entire mood was sensual and you could almost smell the libido that radiated off his skin. it was a scent you couldn’t describe—but you didn’t want him to stop.

as your hands kept roaming down his puffed out chest, you stop right at the hem of his pants. poking out, his sharp carved-like ‘v’ shaped pelvis arches within each muscle he moves forward.

the crimson red lights that flicker every three seconds narrowly spotlights toward geto’s fit body. for a quick moment—you get a good glimpse of his face and he’s inches away from your shimmery twitching lips.

geto leans up to your ear and he hoarsely whispers. “birthday girllll,” and he huffs out a drawn breath, feeling you eagerly tug at his pants. a snicker leaves from him before he gets a nice smell of your citrusy perfume. “ah. is the pants gettin’ on your nerves?”

“a bit,” you murmur honestly, and you were already undressing him with your eyes. you were sure geto was most likely wearing a thong underneath but you imagined otherwise.

filthy - you couldn’t believe the thoughts you were having.

to think, if you hadn’t accepted this little ‘girls’ trip’ with your friends, you’d probably be sleeping the entire day away. after all, they did want you to get out more. especially for your special day. with a pout twisting across each part of your lips, you sigh. “can i—”

“what, undress me?” he tries to play coy, seeing your pouty expression increase. geto hums, amused as you lightly hook a finger underneath his hooked strap before he shrugs. “go ‘head, princess. knock y’rself out.”

geto found your hesitance cute. you didn’t wanna seed ‘needy’ but you were showing all signs of it. at the moment, you completely forgot you were at a strip club and he was just a dancer.

but fuck it.

you went slow as he still straddles your lap, slowly pulling down his loosely fitted pants. they were baggy.. a flashy color of yellow, and the more you tugged them down, the more you got a glance at his scanty thong.

it’s dark purple with his name embedded on the thin white strips.

from all sides, it spelled ‘s u g u r u,’ in bold lilac plum colors. he even had custom made thongs? as if you couldn’t get even more aroused—

yeah, you were aroused. leave it to your legs that remained glued together starting to swelter up with … stickiness.

not everyday did you have a man grind against your lap, and to be fucking frank you didn’t think you’d last.

“you’re so pretty,” you pant, watching him shimmy his pants down to where it flops down to his ankles. and oh, he had quite the bulge.

it looked almost painful—so swole and round, you just wanted to kiss it. it looked like at any second it was about to just burst through the cottony stretched fabric. the scenery grows more hedonic as the red lights dimmer. you could barely see his face anymore, just a silhouette that grinds against your lap at each beat of the song playing loudly.

as you nearly slip out a moan, you lean back before your heaving breaths start to accelerate. “suguru.”

“aw,” he coos, feeling your arms wrap around his slender waist. geto’s still swiftly grinding into you, feeling your cute nails claw into his back. the back of your brain kept chanting ‘more, more, more!’

you still have the helmet on, and with the way it’s crooked and could barely fit your head—he found that small detail adorable. as he remained seated on your squished thighs, it was embarrassing to think you were starting to feel yourself erratically throb.

leaning into your neck, he could loudly smell your sheer arousal and it makes him lowly chuckle against the soft shell of your ear. “not satisfied, yeah?” and he lets off a quiet bellowing grunt, feeling your hands trail down his sweaty body once more.

he’s so built, parallel to a literal tank.

geto’s rocking against you in rhythm with the same song that still trumpets through the speakers before whispering. “just say it ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

“you always come to the parties. to pluck the feathers off allll the biiiirds. . ”

the lengthy song continued to drag on—and the busted speakers in the private room sounded like it was about to break from the distortion. it was loud, but your panting breaths was even louder the more geto dances on you.

letting off a longing three second moan once a leg of yours voluntarily hooks around his slim waist, you mewl out a sweet, “i want you. suguru, fuck me.”

“oh. sounds like a demand, sweetheart,” he purrs, and he stills his hips against your lap.

geto’s got a plethora of rings on each of his fingers. pretty silver ‘n gold bands that would wrap around his digits. he had long fingers, thin and perfectly slender.

the more you stared, the more you thought how good they’d fit insi—

“eyes up here,” he cuts you off, and you shudder feeling his palms cup your face. your leg still wraps around his waist before another shortly follows.

he’s barely rocking into you now, and with a bumpy shimmy, you feel his bulge rub against you. “mhm,” geto grunts before meeting your needy gaze once more. as a thumb strokes your bottom lip, pulling it down gingerly, he whispers. “ask nicely. say pretty please.”

“you won’t … charge me extra?” you sheepishly say, beads of perspiring sweat trickling down all sides of your forehead.

geto smugly smiles, grumbling a subtle, ‘nah,’ before making you lean all the way back against the padded sofa. “okay,” you breathe, and you just didnt care anymore.

you wanted him – maybe even needed him..

geto’s hardened bulge that presses against his thong throbs harder before you sweetly murmur,“please, fuck me, suguru.”

“anythin’ for the birthday girl.”

and those words were the same exact words that ran through your mind as you now found yourself in . . quite the risqué position.

you’d be the one straddling geto now. he’s got you in a classic 69, and your pretty perked ass hovers over his face. right in front of you was his weighty fat cock, and it’s a pretty flushed pink with rosy-lime veins prodding from the sides.

you’re whimpering out sweet harmonic keynotes as his long pointed tongue slithers its through your inviting entrance, two broad arms clinging onto your hips. “fuuckk,” he’d groan, feeling you smear a thumb over his leaky mushroomy tip.

you’ve already got him sopping wet from the chin down thanks to your wet cunt – glossy pearly drool seeping from the sides of his dick.

geto’s shaft remains idle, and you wrap a hand around his base before pumping it, rotating your wrist – once, twice, thrice..

he was aching, and the entire time he was giving you a show he had a boner. it was rare, usually whenever he gave lap dances—he was one to never really crack, he was a trained professional and yet here you were.

“mmch,” his swollen puckered lips smack against your cunt as he eats you out entirely from the back.

your mouth drops, jaw dangling— goofily hanging open like a cartoon as he resumes to extends the length of his tongue inside the outskirts of your warm room-temperate-tastin’-pussy.

lolling it out all the way, he licks from top to bottom—stopping at your clenching hole. geto gives it a five second kiss, a sloppy one that glues a mixture of his spit and your slimy juices on his mouth. “sweetheaaart,” he rasps, biting back a greedy groan once he feels you starting to take him in your mouth.

your throat’s seraphic warmth draws a hot sharp breath out of him as he swats a hard palm against your ass for you to start. “when i say move your ass against my face, i fuckin’ mean it. move,” and you let off a candied whimper the second the temporary sting sends singles toward your weeping whiny clit.

feebly, you start to flop your ass up and down against his face and you hear a satisfy ‘hmm’ purr from his lips. you’re moaning, sinking his cock down your throat in the process before your sticky tongue swirls around his angered crownhead. “mmph,” and you take a few inches before you feel his tip swipe against the scaled roof of your mouth.

going back up, it loudly ‘pops!’ out as a bit of sheeny saliva trickles down your chin. you’re taking him deep within no time, and you let off a cute hiccup once his swollen sack paps near your jaw.

so full ‘n round…

you’re breathing through your nose, still shaking your ass against his face, swipin’ his nose occasionally like a credit card with your honeyed-slathered cunt.

his wide flat tongue felt so good that you felt your toes curling each time he playfully nibbles on your sensitive throbbing clit. his tastebuds felt each pulse and it was so hot. “sugu, fuck.”

“i know, i know,” he gruffly whispers against your runny folds. bringing a pair of long twinned fingers towards your pussy, geto strums it down the pulsating slit in a straight pillaring line.

with a bit of pressure—he spreads your lower lips apart, getting a front row seat view of your clit pumpin’ pumpin’ away.

you had such a pretty throb, the prettiest he’s ever seen.

“god, you’re pretty but you’re even prettier down here too,” and not only do you hear him swallow but you feel it too.

a long full gulp, and he’s making sure to savor as much of your sweet slick on his tongue as possible.

geto’s just nasty, and a proud eater. he zigzags his tongue everywhere until your vision’s murky and clouded. you’re left crossed eyed with puffed up cheeks, barely able to focus on his dick that’s laying flat on your tongue.

a hand of his squeezes against your ass before with a mean ‘whack!’ he spanks it again just to see the bouncy recoil. the way a ‘lil fat portion of your ass would jiggle all due to the hasty-rash contact of his palm makes him throb.

and you feel it right in your mouth.

as your head bobbles at a more quick yet languid pace, your tongue skims down one of the many veins that paint down his cock. your repeated moans become muffled, and geto groans at how sloppy you sound—from the front and from behind.

the more he slurps every syrupy drop that dribbles out from your gurgling pussy, his precisely-thorough licks turn into exaggerated four second sucks.

geto softly caresses a hand against the bare skin of your exposed flesh, tugging on your pulled up skirt. pulled to the side were your panties that had a pretty pink star imprinted on the back decorated with glimmery rhinestones. you moan as your back slowly arches inward ‘n out and your knees become to buck.

his tongue, he definitely knew how to eat.

“ ‘s good, juuuus’ like that princess,” he huffs, feeling minuscule dewdrops of your saliva pour down the sides of his cock, slicking all over his base.

your thumb traces a heart over his hefty sack, massaging his tender full testes before you hear geto whine out a sweet, “o- oooh shit,” he was tender there too, huh..

and the sound catches him completely off guard because he grunts, the swaying of his tongue gradually slowing down. geto’s pretty lashes flutter before he grunts, taking a second to breathe. “don’t . . stop, play with ‘em some more,”

“pf—” you pop your mouth off his dick again, wet slimy sounds following as you stroke him off with an closed palm. “are you sure?”

“yeah yeah, ‘m sure,” and there’s a bit of sass in his gruff tone.

geto’s getting flustered, and never in a million years would he admit that you playing with his balls made him feel so good but fuck, it did.

geto paws a hand against your ass before letting off a hurried breathless, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

you went back to bobbling your head up ‘n down, pumping his fleshy pillar of length in your free hand before you start writhing your ass against his face even more quicker. geto moans, a surge of a trill nearly escaping out his gruff vocal chords before he grunts loudly. “mmp,” and your throat was so wet ‘n warm.

it enveloped him entirely, and as your cunt’s sitting over his slick lips—every so often rubbing against his nose and slick-streamed chin, he peppers it with a few kisses.

your hips were arched ‘n askew, and as your tongue occasionally darts down his sensitive slit you hear him grunt again. the burgundy colored sofa pathetically dips inward due to the stacked weight of both rutting bodies. geto’s eyes start to roll their way back as you continue, nearly sucking the soul out of him.

“fuck, baby. spit on it,” he groans, clasping his teeth at your needy clit.

he slides his tongue against your cute bulbous-shaped nub before sucking on it for the umpteenth time. you moan, still tossing your ass around for him in a slow meandering manner, feeling his tongue drag down the slope of your ass again.

geto’s pussy drunk entirely, and he didn’t care if this was against policy, having a customer touch him. when you tasted this divine, he couldn’t help devour your cunt like the starved, starved man he was..

at his words, you spat out translucent globs of saliva from your lips, pasting the slightly curved sides of his dick with your slick mess. “pff,” and you drench him from the base down, twisting his shaft with your wrist before hearing him groan.

geto’s about to finish and you could feel the vigorous pumps of his dick in your mouth growing weaker … and weaker – until, he cums.

geto’s jaw goes slack the moment his peak abnormally reaches, and growls out a husky ‘fuuuuuck,’ with the muscles in his neck tensing.

within a blink of an eye and a snap of a finger, the flat tip of your tongue’s now being sprayed with spritz of waxen cum. it’s a bittersweet taste that coats on your judgy tastebuds, and as you close your eyes with a humming moan departing from your lips, you hear him hiss. his body’s violently shaking, and his hips start to hungrily thrust into your mouth.

you wriggle your ass in face as he’s barely eating you out anymore, frantically heaving as he dumps his all down your pretty tight throat. “fuck, fuck, take it,” and his body still sporadically tremors.

as your mouth’s still full, geto gives your teary wet cunt it’s last few lapping licks before his head collapses back in lecherous defeat.

with cheeks still plumply puffed — his cock remains shoved inside. his aggravated red tip’s just swiping ‘n erupting near the roof of your mouth as you slurp him clean.

you swallow instantaneously, luxuriating in the mildly honey taste before feeling him shudder underneath you. “goddamn, so fuckin’ good. fuckin’ filthy, princess.”

with clammy palms, he turns you over and you lean in to kiss him. geto’s taken by surprise, and as you make him flop back against the velveteen cushion, you made your way on his lap. rough edges of teeth clash and roughly clatter against each other as each tongue plays a more salacious version twister.

geto reclines back, his hands moving toward your rocking waist as he grunts—tasting himself on your tongue. its bitter, but with the help of your lip gloss—it turns far more sweet within seconds. feverish breaths ghosts inside each mouth before you watch him reach near the side of him.

grabbing a half filled up bottle of mousseux, he flicks off the cork with a flick of his middle finger. geto’s eyes still closed as he’s delving his tongue right into your mouth.

the merciless smacking of lips grew louder before he pulls away, huffing breathlessly. “wan’ more of a taste real quick, princess,” and it sounds more like a needy plead. you see how flushed his face was, and geto’s eyes dart straight toward your bare chest. the top you wore was pulled down, clinging near the very bottom of your waist. “c’mere..”

and as you lean in, you watch as geto starts to pour down a small stream of champagne all down your chest. right between your tits, cupping underneath your tummy so none wouldn’t spill further down.

he makes sure a few glosses over your pretty round breasts before he grunts, closing the distance between your chest.

geto buries his face in between the valley of your tits, licking it right up. the bubbly fruity taste lingers on his tongue as he laps you up from top to bottom moaning at the spicy sweetness.

a mixture of your skin and champagne—better than any cocktail this club’s ever served.

“f- fuck,” he moans, lying his tongue flat. geto stares at you the entire time too, and his mouth gradually trails it way toward your damp neglected nipples. he cups his lips around the first nipple—slowly transitioning to the next before slurping the drink right off your body.

a tight breath gets caught in your throat as he continues to lick the rainy drops of sugary champagne off your body. geto groans, savoring the taste before with a loud ‘plop’, he pops your tender wet nipple out of his mouth.

there’s nothing but utter lust and infatuation in his eyes—and he then gets up to kiss you. the room’s nearly pitch dark without the help of the dim effulgent red lights that shined against you both. it added to the mood perfectly.

as tongues continue to try to assert dominance, you moan right in the dancer’s mouth, returning the gesture of swapping gauzy strings of gossamer spit.

abruptly though, you pull away, gently pushing geto back against the sofa.

with a raspy ‘ugh,’ geto lands on his back as you give him a light shove. he’s at your mercy, and you stand up from his lap, a wind of confidence coming out of nowhere and nearly pulling you forward.

he stares at you with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, watching you do a figure eight with your body.

“what’s . . this?” he huffs, burly arms stretching over each edge of the sofa. you looked so pretty, eyeing him up and down as he does the exact same to you.

the luminescent lights started to beam on you now, highlighting your curves and entire physique.

“lie back,” you murmur, slowly sashaying toward him. geto runs a hand through his hair, his dick twitching from the cool air wafting against it. you teasingly drag a finger down the scarred middle line of his bare-puffed chest, stopping at a hardened row of his brick-made abs. “i wanna try your little routine.”

“yeahh?” geto snickers, sucking in a sharp breath once you spin around, bending all the way over. the helmet that was still on your head—you put it back on him, watching him scoff at your audacity.

so you stole his profession now, great.

as you’re turned the other way, you slowly wriggle your ass in front of him, putting a hand over your sopping pussy and he kisses his teeth. “tch. don’t tease, sweetheart,” and geto’s allured stare fixates on you the entire time. his dilated irises frantically roamed around every and any part of your body like a laser. “fuck,” he grunts, watching you finally make your way on his lap.

geto’s all submissively underneath you—bare ‘n exposed with his poor tip flushed. its color was a sheeny carmine red that’s akin to a ripe cerise rose.

a few dried up splotches of cum stick near his weighty sides before he shudders. your ass sits on his flaccid dick before you start to move.

slowly,

you’re rutting into him—just like he was to you, grinding back and forth. geto looks so pretty though, underneath you. he’s still panting a bit, sweating bullets as you tease him with your crazed hips.

you weren’t at his level quite yet, but fuck could you move. geto groans, feeling your sloppy pussy rub off against his dick. you were so close to his tip that his foreskin would peel back a bit. “do you wanna touch me?”

touché..

geto narrows his eyes at you as you tease him, repeating his exact words from what he said to you earlier.

he doesn’t just touch you, he fucks you—

but in this case . . you fuck him.

geto holds back a moan as he’s watching his claret-colored cockhead disappear between your sappy folds. it’s like a magic trick, and with a ‘poof!’ half of length vanished within you.

you let off a soft shrilling whine, trying to writhe yourself around his length.

his dick was fat. ‘eyes-rolling-tongue-lolling-drag-your-nails-down-his back-’ type of fat.

and his girth only made things ten times more intense. you felt him rearranging your guts within each prolonged inch you took – literally.

you’re as slow as a snail with the way you try to take him wholly. even as you’re gingerly sinking your bare ass down with his cock snug ‘n deep inside you, he easily kisses against your g-spot.

it’s happening already, and you don’t even realize he’s fully in before a cooing whimper rawly snatches from the back of your dry esophagus. “oh fuck,” you huff, tossing your arms around the dark haired man.

geto’s got the same wide-eye-jaw-dropped reaction to you, and with one arm snaking around your waist—another’s tightly gripping onto your right ass cheek.

he spanks it, giving it a short squeeze afterward. your chest starts to heave in quickened intervals, and once he feels you starting to move it’s game fuckin’ over..

“god, pussy’s ‘ta die for,” he groans, eyes sexily rolling back until his sockets show nothing but white.

you had him whipped, and he can hear your cunt trying to have a word of its own, squelching out cute gargled squelches. you start to ride him at a mere hypnotic rhythm—and geto’s a lot more vocal now.

with his adam’s apple bobbing, both hands of his were now gripping onto your waist now. piles of money surround you too, a few sticking against his sweaty beefy thighs. “fuck me,” he grunts, and it’s more like he’s begging.

geto locks eyes with you, shaggy long bangs running past his eyes before he securely grabs your hips—trying to keep up pace with you. “mhm, thaaa’s it. ride it, ride . . the shit out of me, uuughhh.”

“ ‘m trying,” you moan, biting your lip each time his swollen cockhead plummets its way deep.

he’s just so big—you couldn’t wrap your head around how a guy could be so damn big.

the good kind of big, and each time he’d seep a single girthy inch into you, your stomach would churn like butter. he’s in sooo deep, your legs could barely support yourself anymore and he had to hold you steady.

as he pulls you all the way down, geto reaches waaay inside of your sloppy gripping cunt that’s oh-so desperate to wring him like a vice.

his thick cock greets your pretty fleshy cervix, mimicking a soft ‘knock’ before introducing itself with a welcoming pound.

he holds your hips, pumping himself into you again, and again, until your pussy remembered each stroke, each thrust, each fuckin’ letter of his name—front to last..

slow but fucking deep.

you gasp, clinging onto his neck before soft hurried pants of ‘yeah, yeah’ ‘s scurry past your glossed lips.

geto’s dewy eyes were half lidded and he’s never felt more pussy drunk in his life. trust—he’s had his fair share of women but oh, you were far different. it was something about you, and he just wanted more after each carnal second passed.

you’re so into his dick givin’ your pussy a fuck of a lifetime that you don’t even realize your hand was now wrapped around his thick neck. not too tight, but geto’s reaction time was slow also. once he realizes seconds after you did, he sheepishly scoffs before slyly humming.

“goddd, y’r so fuckin’ hot when you choke me,” he purrs, tugging at the panties that pull to the side of your thighs. of course he’d enjoy it, and as his dick’s still massaging your gummy walls, he moans. “harderrr.”

“don’t be greedy,” you mumble, burying your knees into his bulky thighs.

the way you rocked against him was hypnotic—and geto’s hands remain on your waist.

you nearly shudder, feeling the various cold bands of his rings run and tickle down your skin. he’s in love with your body, and even more in love with the way you feel from the inside.

leaning in close until you’re just inches away from his spit-slicked lips, your thumb runs its way down the bulging ball that lies inside his throat. “say ‘pretty pleaseee.’ ”

“tsk,” geto scowls, and even with a pout he’s effortlessly attractive. your hips continued to champion its way up ‘n down at a deranged pace as you moved, and his cock’s pumping you full over and over and over. with a vexed grunt, he utters. “pretty please, choke me harder.”

leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth, you whisper a crooning, “good boy,” and geto whines the moment you add a bit more pressure around his neck.

his hair’s all in his face, and your ass was just ruthless.

ferociously slamming down onto his stout cock, you’re drenching him from the base down with your syrup-coated slick. a bit of your own sloppy arousal glues against the pried apart crevices of your thighs—pasting against his as well.

it’s a mess, and with how close he was getting, he was about to create an even bigger one..

geto felt like he was ascending—and with how you were riding him, it didn’t take him long before he’s close again.

yet this time—so were you, and you could recognize the feeling all too well. geto’s cock stretched you to capacity, and he grabs the few dollar bills that scatter on the sofa, throwing it at your body whilst you rode him. he makes it rain on you, spanking your ass with a crumbled up hundred rubbing against your stung skin.

“fuck, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum again,” he grunts in your ear, feeling your pace accelerate by a mile. you were draining him, preparing to milk him and the thought of him stuffing your cunt full made you pulse.

your tongue salivated at just imagining it..

the warmth, the stickiness, the way it’d spill between your thighs. you’re moaning out sweet noises yourself as you both rut into each other at a demented overzealous pace. geto’s thick thighs clench—and while you’re letting out cute blubs of his name on repeat until it’s the only syllables your dumb brain could register—he pulls you close. “ngh, same time, pretty girl. cum with me, let’s make a . . hah, mess together.”

“okay,” you mewl out, both hips pivoting in lascivious unison.

both sweaty mounds of flesh blissfully bounce into at other and each squelch makes you whimper out in ecstasy.

you cup geto’s pecs, smearing a thumb over his pierced nipples and he whines instantly. you lean in to suck against the bars that slash through his tender areola. geto leans back manspread, growling out husky, ‘fuuuuck!’ ‘s as you hum, giving both his nipples its few seconds of attention.

it lasts for seconds that felt like years, and one you pull away he lets out a cute blasé huff.

as your cunt’s in the midst of overflowing—your hips tremor once more time before within milliseconds, you both cum.

it’s quick..

and with your jaw dropping and geto’s shoulders fatally sagging after his big, heavy sigh—he starts to fill you up ounce after ounce.

it’s patching hot, and the second he’s beginning to spill ‘n dump out his perfect ivory ribbons of cum inside of you, you grunt out a melodic finishing, “fuuuck.”

swinish, weak hands grab at your ass as you come undone also—whimpering soft defeating babbles from the sensitive feeling of your cunt spasming right between your jittery numb legs.

you feel static … shock, electricity pulsing through your veins all at once. your entire body was turning haywire. as you start to grow limb right with geto underneath you—nirvana runs through each individual axon on your body before you hear a loud ‘pop.’

it’s more of a sopping squishing sound, and you were so dumbed down from his dick that you didn’t even realized how full you were..

peeking down, he filled you to the brim. wads and wads and wads of cum went inside of you and you moan, spreading your ass apart while craning your neck around just to see for yourself.

“ ‘m so full, suguru,” you pant, sliding a thumb down your sputtering cunt that’s plugged with both his cock and his thin oozing seed. you lick your lips before turning back towards geto and he’s absolutely fucked stupid.

you rode him so good to the point where he’s just stammering out inaudible whines. it’s cute, and you lean in to kiss him once more.

oh.. he was hooked.

he deepens with a few clingy hands feeling at your chest. the kiss gets more passionate rather than sloppy, and as he’s still buried inside of your cunt—he slowly starts to trail butterfly kisses down your neck. you moan, turning your head before you pull away. “shit, i almost f- forgot.”

“forgot what?” he hoarsely rasps, watching you unalign yourself, plopping down on the sofa with a big content sigh.

geto leans in, allowing his thumb to draw circles around your hips before you reach in for your purse, pulling out another decorated vip pass.

sheepishly, you utter. “my friends bought me two sessions with two dancers. so i have another one after you,” and you glance at the clock, squinting before you let off a bashful titter. “. . . oh, that was way past thirty minutes.”

“who? what dancer, sweetheart?” geto utters with a pout. he was still aching, already missing his you felt from the inside. he watches as you squint at your pass that reads the dancer’s stage name and / or full name on the back.

“uhh, it says t—”

“she means me,” and the both of you spin heads, ogling at the glittery red carpet and decorated pathway that was once covered up.

you could hear geto that laid beside you muttering out a jealous, ‘fuck,’ as you meet the other dancer’s gaze.

he’s wearing a leopard thong with an added on accessory of the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.

a slashed scar runs down the right side of his crooked curved lips and you spot bills sticking at both sides of his halfway on thong that nearly shows his sharp hips before he hums.

“name’s toji,” and you’re suddenly being lifted up by strong, tatted brawny arms before he turns around, winking at a very pissed of geto before trodding out the private room with you in his arms.

“i’ll take it from here,” and feral green eyes with an even more feral grin. “ain’t that right, birthday girlll?”

9K notes · View notes

tojbnuy · 3 months ago

Text

mini part 4 for gojo day 🧁 next part will probably be the finale. thank you for showing best friend toru so much love even tho he is fairly toxic. art by @ _3aem on twt!! part one part two part three

warnings: a very vague birthday bj, some feelings? MDNI

birthdayboybestfriend!satoru who waits with his phone in his hand ignoring all his other messages and skipping to your contact because he knows you’ll say it at bang on midnight. he is then smiling so hard at his phone suguru actually gets worried.

bestfriend!satoru who obviously has party of the century going on at his place. being the star boy he is, he is soaking up the attention. however he has been dyingggg for your arrival, he makes sure to tell every girl that approaches him that he is booked and busy for today.

bestfriend!satoru who tackles you into a massive hug when he sees you and picks you up just to make sure everyone else sees this. you’re wearing white (his favourite) and he knows for a fact you did that on purpose.

bestfriend!satoru who disregards everyone else’s presents for the time being so he can give you and your presents his full attention. unfortunately he is nosy and had scrolled through your google tab last week so he already knew what two of them were going to be.

bestfriend!satoru who (staying true to character) asks you for a birthday kiss. ‘can i have my last present now baby?’ and then he’s pressed up against you and his familiar taste is all you can take in. ‘toru people can see us’ ‘let them see baby’

bestfriend!satoru who wraps your ponytail around his fist whilst you’re talking. sometimes even pulling you back a bit so he can take a long inhale at your neck.

bestfriend!satoru who is actually very annoyed that he got a hot tub because now there were multiple gawking at you. suguru even wolf whistles at you at one point just to rile him up and he got a mouthful of tub water because of it.

bestfriend!satoru who catches you whispering to suguru and finds he definitely does not like the look of that. you had a worried expression which he made a mental note of to ask suguru about later.

bestfriend!satoru who casually gropes at your chest. (you allow him of course) (however you put an end to it when his fingers start to creep into the material of the lace covering your breasts.) (there were simply too many people present but satoru was content with just holding your tit) (stressball >__<)

bestfriend!satoru who makes his closest friends go round the tub and say what they like about him most. suguru is the only one who gives him a slightly heartfelt message, sukuna calls him ugly, toji calls him an airhead, nanami says he is ‘special’ (whatever that means?), shoko says he makes her want to smoke. and then it’s your turn and gojo actually tears up at your beautiful words. your voice and your eyes staring only ever at him saying that he is your person and you really do think he the strongest individual you know. (then he grabs your face and kisses you and the crowd boos until he stops)

bestfriend!satoru who is dead set on you staying with him for the night. ‘you’re not gonna cuddle your best friend on his birthday?’ and how could you everrrr say no to that.

bestfriend!satoru who has his head on your chest, you hands running through his hair and scratching at your scalp. his thighs are covering yours and he lazily kisses at your collarbone. the tension in the room is thick. you can both feel it. it was simply a game of who would move first. satoru knew you wouldn’t, always the more timid and shy one of the two so he took it upon himself to drag his fingers across the waistband of your shorts. ‘wait toru we can’t i’m, i’m your friend?’ god you were too sweet for this earth. ‘it’s okay baby. we don’t have to, but no one’s gonna know. just us.’ and he litters even more feather light kisses to the spot right below your ear until you were letting out soft little sighs. ‘then. then i want to do it, yk since it’s your birthday.’ he knew you weren’t the most conventional best friends but this, this was further than anything you’d ever done before. and he was on cloud nine.

bestfriend!satoru who was now realizing that he had never experienced true joy before this moment. before he had felt your velvet soft lips wrapped around his tip. your tongue licking at his crown so softly, so sweetly. he’s always been a moaner but now he had no shame in the sounds that were leaving him. ‘that’s it baby, just like that. that’s my girl’.

bestfriend!satoru who was a head pusher. he let you set the pace in the beginning but he was growing desperate, something he hadn’t experienced before. your little mewls as he holds you in place right at the base of his dick. your nose nestled against the faint hairs there, and your tears dropping directly into his skin. he had given you the chance to move but being the amazing best friend that you were you swallowed everything he gave you, even opened wide and let him take a look, that to make sure. ‘fuck baby that was the best gift ever’

bestfriend!satoru who snores like a truck directly into your ears and grinds his hips into your thighs whilst he sleeps.

(bsf!gojo will be returning soon!! and i’ll be adding everyone who asked to the taglist! thank u for showing him so much love :))

taglist : @haruhatake @moncher-ire @startwithrecords @ranatherealestsigma @chjinua @sukuxna0 @suechii @whozeurdaddy @purp1eha1o @greensunflowerjuna @jjkysnk @tibibibi123 @missthatgirl @macchiatoast @adanfore @namjooningera @jaeminsmilk @tojicvmslut @hachichann

5K notes · View notes

zarameraki · 1 year ago

Text

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.”

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight pound baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded.

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of royalty that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit.

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit.

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.”

“Hurry, then.”

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination.

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him.

“Are you close?” you whispered.

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.”

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Please.”

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him.

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back.

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again.

You both snapped in unison.

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes.

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.”

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

9K notes · View notes

hees-mine · 2 months ago

Text

Birthday girl - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, multiple orgasms, cursing, stepcest, daddy kink, dirty talk, cheating.

Genre: 18+, stepcest.

Word count: 2k+

Decided to just post the full story here cause it got taken down on Patreon :/

“Mom, just one, please. I promise it’ll only be one.” It was your 21st birthday, and you celebrated in the kitchen with your mom and your stepdad as you begged her to let you have your first shot on the day you officially turned 21.

“No, I never had a shot at 21,” she simply answers, turning away from you and putting away the leftover cake she had your stepdad buy from the store cause she apparently couldn’t be bothered to get one for you herself.

“Mom, come on, that’s not fair!” You whined. “I’m literally an adult,” you reasoned.

“And you’re literally under my roof,” she replies back nonchalantly like she always does. You hated it when she acted like this.

She would always hold things over your head: no sleepovers, no parties, no boyfriends, no nothing, and it’s not cause she was looking out for you. It’s cause she was jealous of you.

She always told you how she never got to have any of those things, and now you can’t shake the feeling that even though she never directly said it to you, you feel like she’s taking it out on her only daughter, which just isn’t fair.

“Dad!” You turned to heeseung your stepdad, looking for his approval, and he gave you the tiniest hint of a smile while folding his arms over his chest and resting against the kitchen counter.

You and your stepdad had a much better relationship than you and your mother, unlike her. He seemed to actually care about you, which is comical cause he wasn’t even your real dad, and he treated you better than your mom ever did.

He’d always vouch for you, defend you when arguments got too heated, and he never made you feel like you were always in the wrong, unlike your mother did.

His care for you did go a lot further than just how a stepdad would care for their stepchild because his hugs would last a couple of seconds too long. His kisses on the cheek were a little too affectionate, and he'd eye you when you wore revealing outfits a bit too much.

You didn't mind, though. You did it on purpose cause you liked the attention. He wasn't your real dad, and besides, you had met him so late in your life that you were already fully grown, and you didn't even see him as a father figure at all.

Dad never even crossed your mind when you thought about him. All you saw was a very attractive man, and you wondered how your strict, bitter mother landed a gem like him.

“You heard your mom.” he swipes the cake as your mom sets it in the fridge and licks the frosting off his fingertip, humming at the sweet taste. “Now go upstairs and get ready for bed, young lady.”

You rolled your eyes and did as he said. You thought he’d vouch for you this time, too, but apparently not.

Little did you know he had other plans up his sleeve. He only said no to you cause he was not about to start a fight with his wife over you taking one measly shot, especially since it was your birthday.

His wife always had a way of making things about her. Just cause she didn’t get a shot at 21. Why couldn’t you? If he didn’t know any better, he’d say his wife was jealous of her own daughter, and if he’s being honest, it was kinda getting on his nerves the way she’d bitch at you all the time for virtually nothing.

When he married her, she was not like that at all, but once he moved in and you all became family, the whole dynamic changed. She paid more attention to scolding you than him.

He wasn’t needy necessarily, but he did get lonely sometimes, especially in the bedroom, and heeseung noticed that you talked to him more than his own wife.

Which resulted in him developing maybe not a crush but a certain attraction to you, and to his luck, it was mutual between the two of you, considering all the shameless flirting you did back and forth.

At first, he felt a bit guilty, but with the way he was feeling in his marriage, he might as well have been single. He’s not excusing his actions, but he definitely doesn’t care or feel any shame in checking you out from head to toe on a daily basis.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t spill his load in his palm once or twice at the thought of you.

How could he not when you’d purposefully bend over in front of him pretending that you dropped something or the way you’d push your chest against his whenever you’d hug?

You had already gotten ready for bed, sulking a bit as you leaned against the bed frame, scrolling on your phone.

Heeseung had joined his wife upstairs, lying next to her and sharing a quiet goodnight before they turned off the bedside lamps.

It was always like this: completely silent, no conversation, no talking about the day, no intimacy, absolutely nothing.

Even if he did try to talk, she’d always say she was stressed or tired.

Another one of the reasons Heeseung didn’t feel guilty for having feelings toward you was that you gave him the time of day.

He sighs putting his hands behind his head and staring at the celling finally after an hour passed his wife was fast asleep so he silently slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen where the cupboard was located pulling out a bottle of liquor one he bought expressly for you cause you had been going on all week about wanting to take a shot on your 21st.

He snuck over to your room, knocking on it softly, knowing you’d still be up. You were always up late.

You sighed and got out of bed tossing your blanket to the side and ripping open the door ready to be faced with your mom and some more of her shenanigans. “Wha-“ you stopped mid-way through, shocked to see that it was actually your stepdad instead, and you were pleasantly surprised to see he was in nothing but his underwear and a shirt.

“Hey,” he laughs softly, waving a bottle of liquor in your face along with two shot glasses.

“H-hi,” you smile upon seeing the bottle.

“Are you gonna let me in? Or are you gonna wait for your mom to catch us?” He smirks and you open the door further to let him in.

He bites his lip when you turn around to walk to your bed, eyeing the way those tight little sleep shorts hug your ass.

“I thought you said no?” You pressed your knees to your chest, patting a spot on the bed for him to sit.

He shrugs and takes a seat a little too close to you, but you don’t mind. “Thought I might break the rules a little bit. After all, you are the birthday girl.” he clicks his tongue and winks at you, placing the shot glasses on the nightstand, popping the cap off, and pouring you a drink and one for himself as well.

Feeling daring now that you two are finally alone, you decide to take things a little further than just your usual flirting. “Thanks, Daddy.” You bite your lip to hide your smile as he turns to you with a wide grin on his face.

“Of course, babydoll.” he lifts his hand up to stroke his thumb along your jaw. “Can’t have you going to bed mad at me now, can we?”

“No, Daddy,” you whisper, leaning into the warmth of his palm, and he could already feel himself twitching in his boxers, your skin so soft under his fingertips, so Inviting.

He hands you your shot and takes his, clanking your glasses together. “To the birthday girl,” you smiled shyly and downed the shot in one go.

Your face contorted from its strong taste, your tongue burning in the aftermath, but the aftertaste that was left in your mouth was enough for you to want another one.

He sees the mischievous glint in your eyes and pours you one more. “Only one more pretty girl,” he smiles, giving you one last shot, and you down it. Something about the way your throat bobs and your lips wrap around the rim of the cup makes his lower region feel warm.

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” he extends his hand to your thigh, rubbing his palm over it. Your legs relax under his touch, and you take your second shot before leaning back on the headboard, giving him more space to gently squeeze your thigh.

“Mmm,” you close your eyes as his other hand comes in contact with your right thigh, and now he’s kneading both with his strong hands going up higher and higher till his right thumb begins rubbing your clit over your shorts. “Daddy,” you whisper, rolling your hips against his fingers in desperation without an ounce of shame for being intimate with your mother’s husband.

His mouth parts open, shallow breaths escaping as he watches you succumb to pleasure. “That feels good, princess?” You nod, and he massages your clit some more, adding a bit of pressure as he circles the bud through your clothing. Your whole body heats up, and you can feel an orgasm building embarrassingly quickly inside you.

“Yes, please keep going,” you say breathlessly, your sensitive nipples hardening beneath your shirt, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you get closer.

“Gonna cum already, little one?” his words only push you closer, and he leans down to kiss your thigh. The softness of his lips tip you over the edge as you clamp around, nothing feeling your high being gently coaxed out of you.

“Oh god, Daddy, it feels so good.” You shudder and grip your bedsheets as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He rubs you through it until you come down and catch your breath. “You did so well, baby. Keep this between you and me, okay, sweetheart?” You nod, and he kisses your thigh again before capping the liquor and getting ready to make his exit, that is, until you grip his wrist to stop him.

“More,” he can’t help but smile, and he can’t say he didn’t want to do more cause the hard-on in his boxers was in need of immediate attention, but he tries to use his better judgment and say no.

“We shouldn-“

“Please, I’m so wet for you been thinking about you every day since we moved in” The admission makes his heart rate pick up and his cock throb in his underwear, and he’s too weak to resist you because like you, he has also been waiting that long to have you.

He sighs, putting the alcohol back down on the nightstand. “Just this once,” he says as if that somehow makes it better. You both know no matter what, it’s wrong, but you couldn’t care less. You just wanted him, so you would take any opportunity that presented itself.

You nodded immediately, and he stood up, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down his hard cock, flopping out thick and veiny for your eyes to feast on. You feel drool pool in your mouth from the sight, and the little bead of precum dripping off his tip was just the cherry on top. You wanted to feel him on your tongue badly.

His clothing falls around his ankles, and he climbs on the bed, hovering above you, his breath heavy with anticipation.

He grabs your shorts using his toned bicep muscles to easily yank your shorts down all the way. “So pretty and wet for me” he eyes your slick pussy and grabs hold of his thick base, guiding his tip between your soaked folds.

His breath stutters as he moves his hips forward and back, coating his thick shaft in your arousal. “Fuck” he twitches in excitement. You feel so warm and wet, and he’s not even inside you yet.

“Daddy,” you whimper desperately, and he knows exactly what you want by the tone of your voice, so he doesn’t want to tease you any longer.

“Don’t worry, sweets. Daddy’s got you.” he guides your hands around his waist, and you dig into the flesh, making him hiss with pain and pleasure.

He nudged the head on your entrance and pulled back a thin, clear string of arousal connecting you and bringing you back together as he pushed the thick tip inside your warm walls.

You wince slightly from the feeling of him stretching you out. Just his tip felt like heaven already, and you couldn’t help the way you squeezed so tightly around him. “Daddy,” you moan out, throwing your head back into the pillows as you gasped for air.

“Shit, there you go,” he grits through his teeth. “Take it in, princess. Take it like daddy’s good little girl” Your walls tighten around his tip, sucking him in even deeper. “You feel so good squeezing on your daddy’s cock. Your little pussy is so wet and warm” his hot breath blows against your face from the close proximity.

Pushing up your shirt, he reveals your chest, his big veiny hands kneading on your soft breasts that you put on display for him so many times, and now he finally got to see them up close and feel them.

Felt so much better than his imagination could ever even think of.

“You’re so big, Daddy,” you breathe out, taking all that he’s giving you obediently or maybe not so obediently cause you couldn’t help but grind down on his dick, forcing him to go in deeper.

His breath gets caught in his throat as your hole swallows him up, and he can’t help but thrust faster, your slick hole getting creamier by the second. “Fuck” his eyes roll back in his head, and he sticks his dick in you even further, watching as your pretty little face contorted in so much pleasure from being filled by his inches. “You’re taking my cock so deep, pretty girl. I’m all the way inside,” he whines, feeling your tight entrance rubbing along his tip, and it sets him off quicker than he’d like to admit. “Daddy’s gonna cum baby”

“Yes, Daddy, please cum all over me” he cups your face holding onto your cheek as you look at him with big round pleading eyes. Your words make him thrust his hips faster, his clammy skin smacking against your own, only adding to the pleasure as he fucks into your silky cunt so deep that his tip bumps your cervix and your breast jiggle with every harsh rut of his hips.

Feeling his high approaching, he lowers his hand to fondle your delicate clit to bring you to the point of no return alongside him.

“Daddy, I’m cumming!” Your body tenses at his actions, your walls clamping down on him tightly as your cunt creams around his cock, the tightness of your pussy feeling heavenly on his throbbing dick.

He lets out a lewd moan and quickly pulls his dick out, hot spurts of cum shooting all over your lower stomach. “Oh fuck fuck” he curses, watching as his dick throbs and paints you in his milky white cum.

You’re both moaning in pleasure as he rubs his cock against your stomach, releasing every last drop of cum on your pretty smooth skin. You both pant heavily while he empties himself completely.

You can’t help but swipe your finger in the puddle of warm cum and hold it to your tongue, sucking off the sticky remnants of his orgasm and savoring his taste.

“Daddy’s good girl,” he smiles in satisfaction, bending down and giving you a short but deep kiss on the lips before he gets up, and you miss his warmth already as he slips back into his boxers.

You watch him disappear into the bathroom and come back with something to clean you up.

He does it ever so gently, eyes full of care and concern, and once he’s finished, he helps you into your clothes and tucks you in for the night. “Happy birthday, baby. Daddy loves you.” he pecked your forehead, your eyes feeling heavy after those two unbelievable orgasms he gave to you.

“Love you too daddy” he smiles softly and takes the liquor and shot glasses heading to the door he took one last look at you puckering his lips and making a kissing noise you giggle and hide your face with the covers before he leaves. “Night, birthday girl,” he whispers to you.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” that’s all you remember before your eyelids fall shut. There’s a faint, satisfied smile on your face as you slip into slumber. This was the best birthday ever, all thanks to your stepdad.

Subscribe to my Patreon for more content!

#heeseung smut #lee heesung smut #heeseung angst #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hyung line #enhypen fanfic #enhypen heeseung #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung #heeseung fluff #heeseung #lee heesung x reader

1K notes · View notes

monzamash · 4 months ago

Text

★ last chance; long live the inbox graveyard! —i pick a long forgotten request in my inbox and write a short blurb or musings

hot tub time machine lando norris x you —no warnings, just fluff "could we get a number 14 (pool/hot tub sex) with lando pleaseeee? so excited that you’re writing again!!" —requested by anon on october 8th, 2024

“happy birthday, sweetheart...”

“i really needed this," he sighed, "knowing i would be home with you for this was the only thing getting me through the last few of weeks.”

lando could feel every single ache and pain wash away as he slid into the hot tub, stomach full of the gorgeous italian spread you’d ordered for dinner. his favourite. he swore you were an angel sent to earth, everything you did for him was heavenly, he could never find the words to tell you how much he loved you.

“you look so happy lan,” you smiled, dropping the kimono you’d worn during dinner as lando’s eyes cast across your body, luring you into the tub.

“i’m very happy - especially when i get to enjoy all of this… c’mere pretty girl.”

a soft giggle slipped from your lips as you grasped his hand, "let me get a bottle of red wine for us to share and i'll join you — do you wanna open the one daniel gave you?"

"ooo, are we entering that portion of the night?" lando asked suggestively as you stood up, shooting him quizzical look.

"what do you mean?" you asked earning a loud laugh from the tub, water splashing a little as lando pulled himself up to the edge, smiling over at you with a look you knew all too well.

"as soon as you start on the red wine, you get so frisky," he stated as if it was a well-known fact, one that you certainly weren't aware of.

"i do not!" you staunchly defended, earning another loud scoff.

"oh, wow," lando laughed, "yes, you do baby and i'm not complaining so crack her open..." he teased as you carefully stepped into the tub, with lando's help of course, eyes still narrowed in annoyance.

"okay so maybe wine makes me a little more amorous than usual but i think i'm just like that when i drink, no?" you pouted, earning yourself a pity kiss from the birthday boy.

"red wine makes you horny and that's okay," he teased again with a cheeky smirk on his face as you handed him the stemmed glass, "ta."

"we'll see then, won't we," you tutted, pouring two glasses of wine while lando chuckled to himself.

"i already know what's gonna happen but sure," he baited with a wink as he slowly dunked his head under the water and emerged with a shake of his wild curls, sending water flying across the room and all over you.

"you are so sure of yourself tonight."

lando's eyes skimmed across your body briefly while you claw-clipped your hair up, not wanting the hassle of having to dry it before going to bed. secretly you knew where the night was headed, red wine or not— it was his birthday after all, but you weren't about to admit that to the man hypnotised by your every move, jaw slack from the glorious view of your cleavage.

lando was a simple man.

"well, i am the birthday boy after all so i reserve the right to be cocky once a year, yeah?" he taunted from the other side of the tub.

"yeah, only once a year..." you rolled your eyes humorously.

the distance between the two of you seemed too far for lando, so he sculled the rest of his drink and carefully placed the glass on the floor before giving you a mischievous smile.

"steady on, party boy," you chuckled as he leaned forward and snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you into his warm hold.

"i just want to focus all of my attention on you," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen out of your clip, his emerald irises darted over your face, finally resting on yours.

"i missed you a lot, you know."

you took that as an invitation to straddle his lap and rest your elbows over his shoulders, wine glass dangling from your fingers. lando smoothed his hands down your back and and pressed fiery kisses across your chest. his lips travelled back up your neck, along your jaw before finding your soft lips in a slow, passionate kiss. you moved in sync with him, bringing one of your hands up to trawl through his wet, tangled curls. the chlorine always got the best of them.

lando hummed quietly into the kiss before pulling back slightly, "this is the best birthday i've ever had... and i couldn't be more in love with you," he confessed as you took the chance to admire the sweet boy you'd chosen to share your life with.

you grasped his face gently between your hands and pressed another soft kiss to his lips, making sure he knew just how much you loved him, no matter what life threw your way.

"i love you too, darling... happy birthday."

a/n — the first of the end of (f1) season sale!! this hot tub request actually wasn't forgotten, just half-baked so thank you anon for sparking up the inspiration to finally finish it! hope you enjoyed it 😌

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 writing #monzamusings ✨#monzamashmasterlist #end of (f1) season sale!!

1K notes · View notes

moonchild9350 · 5 months ago

Text

A Little Sugar Goes a Long Way

Summary: you’re in need of some sugar and go to see if your neighbor Hyunjin can lend you some.

Pairing: Hyunjin x fab reader

Genre: strangers to lovers au, smut-18+MDNI

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: teasing, filthy kissing, oral sex ( m and f receiving), masturbation, nipple play, pussy slapping, cum swallowing, cum tasting, cum swapping, unprotected sex (don’t), squirting, creampie

Notes: a little break from my spooktober fics. I just can’t get enough of hyunjin. spooktober will resume tomorrow!

If you enjoyed, please consider a like, comment, reblog as it keeps me motivated!

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Flour, butter, baking powder, milk, salt, canola oil, sugar…”

You frantically looked through your cabinets, looking for the white sack that was needed to complete your recipe. You searched everywhere, but couldn’t find any, panic slowly setting in.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, slamming the last cabinet shut.

You were in the process of baking a cake for your friend’s birthday party tomorrow and you were missing the star ingredient. You really didn’t feel like going to the store, having to battle the crowd shopping for their own needs, being shoved this way and that as you tried to get to the aisle you needed.

You crossed your arms and tapped your foot, thinking how you could obtain the sugar. You could have it dropped to your house, but that could take longer than necessary, and plus the delivery fee was bound to be more than the cost of the sugar itself, not to mention having to tip the driver.

You were lost in thought, the idea of going to the store becoming more realistic with each passing second. Right as you decided on your decision, you remembered your neighbor Hyunjin. He recently moved in, but usually keeps to himself, with you only seeing each other in passing when you’re both on your way to work.

You could see if he had some sugar, just enough for your recipe. Making your way to your door, you slid into some shoes and grabbed your keys, leaving to go next door. It was a nice day, the sun shining, no clouds in sight. You made your way down the sidewalk and over to Hyunjin’s house, walking up the steps to his door.

Taking a breath, you rapped your knuckles on the door three times and quickly dropped your hand to wait. A minute passed and then two, with no one answering the door. You were about to turn around to return home, assuming he was out when the door swung open, a disheveled Hyunjin on the other side.

“Oh, hi,” you said, turning to face Hyunjin as you took him in. He was wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt splattered with different colors, and his hair up in a ponytail. You forgot how easy he was on the eyes.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes wide as he tried to place where he knew you from. It was starting to get a little awkward until there was recognition in the brown orbs, a smile gracing his face, his dimples appearing.

“Y/n!” He exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to bother you, but I um…ran out of sugar and I’m baking a cake and…” you paused for a moment and rocked back and forth on your heels. Why were you nervous?

Taking a breath you continued, “And I was wondering if I could use some sugar?”

“Oh? Of course! Come in, I’ll get you some.”

You followed Hyunjin, stepping over the threshold into his home. As you followed Hyunjin to the kitchen, your eyes wandered from room to room, taking in the simplicity of it all. It was surprisingly clean, not what you expected of him.

Once in the kitchen, you stopped by the counter and watched as he opened a cabinet, pulling out the white sac containing the ingredient you needed.

“How much do you need?” Hyunjin inquired.

“One and a half cups please,” you replied.

Hyunjin hummed and grabbed a small bag to place the sugar in. You watched as he delicately opened the bag, his fingers curling around the edge of the rim, pulling it open. Your mind couldn’t help but wander, thinking of how those fingers would feel trailing down your body, touching you where you were throbbing in between your legs.

You watched as he gripped the bag and tipped it over, measuring out the amount you needed. His veins were prominent, his muscles flexed and bulging. You shook your head, ashamed of your staring, he’s your neighbor after all.

While he finished up, you could hear the faint sound of music drifting through the house. You listened closely, familiarity dawning on you at the tune.

“Is that The Paper Kites?” You asked, a smile forming on your face.

Hyunjin looked up from his task with a look of surprise. “You know them?” He asked smiling.

“Mmhmm,” you responded, “I love them.”

Hyunjin closed the bag of sugar and set it aside, then handed you the little baggy he prepared for you.

“Not many people know them,” he said, “I was listening to them while I paint.”

“I didn’t know you painted.” You looked at the man in front of you with curiosity. You found yourself wanting to know more about him. He smiled and then looked down, pushing a strand of hair out of his face.

“I do,” he said, “would you like to see what I’m working on?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a smile. You set your bag of sugar down before following Hyunjin further into his house. The music became a little louder, the folk tune permeating the air the closer you got to where he paints.

Hyunjin gestured you inside a room, bowing slightly as you passed. You giggled at his chivalry, fascinated with this strange man.

Once inside, you stopped, taking in the room. It had the feel of organized chaos, sketch books and canvases littering the corners. Some canvases were blank, not yet graced with a story while others were covered in intricate, abstract designs.

In front of a large window, Hyunjin had set up shop. An easel with a large canvas perched on top sat in front of a large window, the view consisting of the expanse of trees. A little stool was present, where he created his stories little by little.

“Come, come,” Hyunjin said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You followed him over to the canvas and gasped in awe at the picture in front of you. The picture was breathtaking, the swirls of colors blending in to create a beautiful scene. The people were drawn to embrace, the outlines of their bodies fading into the stormy background.

“It’s still a work in progress, but…yeah,” Hyunjin said.

He watched your face as you looked over his painting, your eyes roaming over each figure, each detail, analyzing his work with thoughtful eyes. You were beautiful in that moment, the sun’s rays trying to peak through the curtains he had over the window, illuminating your face and causing it to glow.

His eyes drifted to your lips, as you lightly bit them in contemplation, the flesh blanching briefly before blood flow returned, causing your lips to take a rosey tint once more.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the calm atmosphere, your eyes searching out his.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin replied, rocking back and forth on his feet.

You both stood there in silence, neither one of you knowing what to say, the music continuing to play in the background, soft and sweet.

It doesn’t begin right away, the feeling of want. It starts softly, gently, with the beating of your heart, slowly increasing to where it feels like it will jump out of your chest. The feeling moves lower until it reaches your core, a pulsing ache in this serene moment.

There’s a shift in the air, a change. What once was calm and friendly, turns into something charged and electric, almost as if the feelings between you two are now palpable, drifting through, lightly touching and caressing your skin.

Hyunjin is nervous, never having had a beautiful girl in his home, yet alone in his most sacred space. He stands there watching, waiting, as the tension grows, the feeling growing into something large, taking over his body. He feels his cock twitch within the confines of his sweats as he watches you breathe in and out, your breasts heaving with each breath.

He’s unsure of what to say, but wonders what you will do if he leans in and presses his lips to yours, feels the softness against his own. He finds himself drifting closer to you, one step at a time, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s never felt this desire before, not with any of the few encounters he’s had. He’s nervous and scared, hoping this doesn’t backfire on him, hoping you’ll accept him.

You watch as Hyunjin walks toward you, that look in his eyes as if he’s hunting his prey, yet also with a hint of fear. He’s probably nervous of what you will do if he reaches out, touches you, caresses you. He need not worry, as you begin to move toward him, meeting him half way.

Your dripping, your arousal leaking into your panties, the wetness soaking the material through. You watch as he looks at your lips and then your eyes as if he’s seeking permission.

With a slight nod of your head, he lightly grasps your face and leans down, his breath shaky until his lips meet yours. It’s just flesh against flesh at first, both of you savoring the feel of each other, the softness of your lips pressed together.

But then it changes, as Hyunjin moves his lips against yours, softly, gently, as he pulls you closer. It goes on for a few moments more before turning more hungry, more needy as the kiss becomes more heated.

He nips your bottom lip causing you to sigh, his tongue sliding in against yours at the newfound opportunity. The kiss continues to grow more passionate, more desperate as you both take each other in, needing to be closer to each other in this moment.

You pull away out of breath, Hyunjin chasing after your lips, a whine escaping with the motion. You grin and lick your lips, before pushing him backwards, slowly, one step after the other, until his legs hit his stool, causing him to collapse onto the seat.

He stares at you with wide eyes, his chest rising and falling, watch as you sink to your knees. He can’t believe his luck, not thinking his day would take this turn.

You run your hands over his thighs, rubbing them through his pants, inching higher and higher with each repetition, getting closer to the bulge that’s forming, slowly filling out his sweats. You see a wet spot forming, causing you to smile.

You continue your assault, before reaching his covered cock, placing your hand over the hard appendage. You listen to him gasp, his eyes hooded as he gazes at you. He’s hard, unbelievably so beneath your hand. You give his cock a squeeze and shift closer so you can place your hands within the confines of his waistband.

You pull his sweats down, Hyunjin helping you by lifting his hips so you can rid him of the accursed item. You noticed he wasn’t wearing boxers, his cock slapping his belly once his sweats were out of the way.

You smirked at the information, “you naughty boy,” you cooed, as you tossed his pants away.

Hyunjin gulped at your teasing. He was turned on, as you touched him, teased him, your fingertips dancing on his skin. You touch him everywhere but where he wants it most, his pelvis becoming sticky with each passing moment as his pre-cum steadily leaks from the tip. His cock twitches whenever you move, hoping in anticipation that you’ll touch him there or even better wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

You can tell he’s at his wits end, wanting you to touch him. He’s being good for you, you notice as he sits still, clenching and unclenching his fists. You decide maybe it’s time to reward him, soothe the ache you know he’s feeling.

You clench your thighs together before leaning down to press a kiss to his tip, as Hyunjin moans above you. You press kiss after kiss on the tip, the shaft, all the way back up before taking the head between your lips. You began to suckle, your tongue darting out every now and then to press against his slit.

Hyunjin is a mess, as you take him in, the feeling of your wet, hot mouth on his cock better than anything of his wildest dreams. He, however, grips your hair and lets out the loudest moan as your mouth descends further, taking him to the hilt, his cock kissing the back of his throat.

He takes a deep breath, and then another one, willing to calm himself down and not blow his load too soon. He gazes down at you, the beautiful sight of your mouth on his cock, the spit that’s dribbling out, helping with the slide.

He’s in love with the sounds you make, the little moans that you let out, the vibration causing his cock to twitch. He’s close, embarrassingly so.

You can tell Hyunjin is close as he grips your hair harder, pushes your head down more forcefully, as you take him in again and again. Your pussy quivers in need with each twitch of his cock, your mind wandering, needing him in you.

You grasp his thighs and continue to blow him, never slowing down. It’s a messy, sloppy affair, as your spit dribbles down his shaft and into the pubic hair around his cock. You moan as he presses your head down one more time and he cums with a loud groan, rope after rope of hot cum hitting the back of your throat, flooding your mouth with the salty fluid.

After a moment, Hyunjin releases your head and you sit up, your mouth full of cum. You look him in the eyes before you swallow, Hyunjin letting out a whimper as you do so.

He watches you as he comes down from his high, watches as you stand up and back away towards the little couch he keeps in his studio. He watches as you raise the shirt over your head, a black lacy bra on display. He watches as you unclasp the bra, your pillowy tits popping out, nipples hardened and prominent. He watches as you slid your leggings and panties down your legs, a string of your arousal dripping from your soaking pussy and onto your ruined panties.

Hyunjin unconsciously licks his lips, wanting to attach them to your soaked lips in front of his view. He nearly topples over as you sit down and lean back, spreading your legs wide, your pussy on display. He nearly chokes when you spread your lips, a ‘shlick’ echoing throughout the room from your wetness.

You’re wet, unbelievably so, and you know Hyunjin loves it. You watch him as you reach your fingers down, the digits landing on your pussy. You dip them into your heat, gathering up your arousal before bringing them to your clit. You swirl them around the bud, sighs leaving your lips as you apply a little more pressure. You continue to pleasure yourself until Hyunjin jumps up, tosses his shirt off, and all but practically runs to you, dropping to his knees as he whines.

He pulls you to the edge of the couch as buries his face in your pussy, causing you to squeal at the sudden intrusion. He darts his tongue out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit, before sucking the bud between his plush lips. He takes you in with no mercy, grasps you tighter, harder as he eats you out like a man starved.

Your hands fly to his hair, grasping the strands as he sticks his tongue into your wet heat, fucking your walls with the muscle. You cry out as he massages you, pushing him further into your sopping pussy as his nose brushes against your clit, the stimulation causing shivers to run down your spine.

You feel on fire, warmth expanding and spreading throughout your body, your toes curling, as he makes out with your delicate flower. Your moans increase in intensity, your voice rings out as you let go, releasing your arousal all over Hyunjin’s face. He steadily drinks you in, lapping up every drop as it gushing from your core.

Hyunjin groans as he tastes you, as he becomes obsessed with how you spill on his tongue. He doesn’t let up, not for a moment, even when you squirm and mewl in overstimulation. He revels in how you grip his hair, how the pain shoots through him with each tug, the sensation traveling to his cock, causing it to harden even further.

He finally pulls away, his face smothered in your arousal, the fluid glistening on his lips, his chin, his nose. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, savoring the taste of you as he watches you, watches your tits rise and fall with each breath, the look of infatuation on your face. He doesn’t wipe the rest of his face, no, he wants you to taste yourself on him, so you can savor the taste just as he did.

You watch as Hyunjin stands, and strokes his cock, wet sounds permeating the air with each pass. He shuffles closer to you, cock in hand as he gazes at your pussy, watching as it clenches over nothing, your cream oozing out, down your ass and onto his couch below.

He pulls his eyes away and looks into yours before asking “can I?”

You smile at him and beckon him forward, holding your legs open in invitation. He steps forward and taps your pussy with his cock, causing you both to moan at the sound, how wet you are for him, this man you’ve just met.

You sigh as he runs his cock through your folds before his tip catches at your entrance. He slowly pushes his cock in, your walls accommodating to the stretch. Inch by inch he pushes, until his cock is sheathed fully within you, snug within your walls. He stills and looks down at you, his eyes full of lust. You both breathe in tandem until you signal for him to move.

Hyunjin feels at home, sheathed between your warmth, as if his cock was made to be buried within your walls. He takes a deep breath and with your ok slides his cock out until the tip is almost out before sliding back in. He thrusts again and again before speeding up, the feeling of ecstasy spreading throughout his body.

You both are a mess as you both moan and clutch onto each other more, trying to get as close as possible as he thrusts his cock within you. You play with his ponytail, your fingers running through the strands as Hyunjin buries his face in your neck, letting out a whine.

He’s desperate for your pussy, his mind a jumbled mess as you suck him in over and over. He’s desperate in the sound it makes, talking back to him with each glide. He sits up so he can look, watch his cock stretch your walls and what he’s met with almost makes him blow his load.

His cock is coated in white, coated in your arousal. He’s in a trance as he watches his pelvis meet yours, your cream coating the hair donning his pelvis, the ‘shlick’ sound it makes as he withdraws. He’s in disbelief as your little hole stretches around his cock, his ego soaring that you take him so well.

He snaps out of his trance when he watches you reach down, your fingers playing with your clit, smearing your arousal around. He watches as you mewl, your other hand coming up to play with your tits, pinching, grasping, massaging the flesh.

He feels his cock swell with each passing moment, feels it twitch each time you clench down on him. He looks into your eyes and mutters the words that leads to both of your undoings.

“Cum with me princess.”

You squirt all over his cock, your release covering his cock, coating your thighs and drips down your ass. You moan out as Hyunjin stills, his cock twitching within, his cum painting your walls white. He fills you, thrusting a few more times for good measure before withdrawing his cock.

You watch as he kneels down once more and licks up both of your release, making sure not to leave a drop before standing up and connecting your lips with his. He pushes his cum mixed with your slick onto your tongue, as he groans deeply.

Hyunjin pulls back and stares at you, “go ahead and swallow princess,” he coos.

You do as you’re told, the mixture of salty with a bit of sweet sliding down your throat. You open your mouth afterwards, Hyunjin smiling.

“Wait here,” he mutters before grabbing his sweats and pulling them on.

You watch as he leaves the room. You didn’t have to wait long, as he comes back with a towel to clean you up. He’s soft and gentle, ensuring to clean every sticky drop up before helping you sit up.

You grin as he helps you get dressed before he sits on the ground, placing his head in your lap.

You smile down at your neighbor, cradling his face. His eyes say it all, will he see you again, will he get to feel you again. You reassure him with a look of your own, not wanting to disturb the silence of the moment.

You’re glad you didn’t go to the store to get the ingredient you needed, happy you decided to trust your neighbor to have it in his home. After all, a little sugar can go a long way.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios

1K notes · View notes

augustinewrites · 10 months ago

Text

cw: pregnancy

“when you said we were sneaking out to go for a ride, i didn't think you meant that,” you sigh, breathless but content as you slump against your husband’s chest.

“deep breaths, darling,” diluc encourages, fingertips brushing down your spine. it makes him think of before, of juvenile fumbling and embarrassment. he’s much less chaste now. confident in his touches and his ability to please you. “why let the horses have all the fun?”

“you’ve been spending too much time with kaeya,” you grumble.

“i agree. it’s why i had to sneak away from his party with you.”

“your party,” you correct, letting him twine your fingers with yours. just like he had earlier, when he’d convinced you to sneak out of the surprise birthday party thrown in his honour. “the guests are likely looking for you.”

diluc’s used to being the center of attention. he doesn't necessarily enjoy it, but his day-to-day is filled with employees searching for his signature or potential clients seeking his participation on new ventures. as the king of the wine industry, he’s possibly the most in-demand person in mondstadt.

but their attention is nothing compared to yours. you’re his favourite person.

“you didn't even make it to the cake,” you add, shifting in his lap. “which means they'll be looking for us soon.”

he brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon your knuckles and making your heart flutter. “i've already had dessert.”

your face warms considerably against his skin as he chuckles, releasing your hand in favour of slowly smoothing his palm down your side, resting on your hip. he’s more than content to abandon his birthday party entirely in favour of being here in bed, watching the sunset over the fields of your home and bathing you both in golden light.

“well, it’s your birthday party,” you say softly. “even if your actual birthday is two days away, i still want you to have everything you could possibly want. and if what you want is to sneak away from your party to bed me so thoroughly, who am i to argue?”

his heart starts to thump so loudly in his chest that he fears you can hear it. he does want something else, an answer to a question that’s been stifled by shyness, fear, and uncertainty.

“and if i wanted…something else?”

your fingers trace idle patterns across his arm as you hum. “i’d do my best to give it to you.”

he knows you would. which is why he’s been waiting, making sure you want this just as much as he does.

“kaeya said something to me earlier,” he starts.

“please tell me this doesn't end with you hitting him.”

“of course not.” well, not this time. “he asked when i would make him an uncle.”

your movements pause, and diluc wonders if he'd messed up, if it was too soon–

you sit up immediately, grasping his shoulders. “he told you i was pregnant, didn't he? i knew adelaide wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. she’s been knitting baby socks since last week.”

wait.

“you’re–”

“i wanted it to be a surprise,” you deflate, a frown tugging on your pretty lips. “on your real birthday. adelinde was the only one i told, only because she’d caught me throwing up in the rose bush she’d just pruned and insisted i get checked…”

diluc’s hardly hearing you, your rambling slowing to a stop as he holds your face in his hands.

he needs to hear you say it.

“we’re having a baby?”

you place your hands atop his, nodding. “we’re having a baby, diluc.”

he presses his lips against yours, one firm kiss before he rests his forehead against yours. you are and will always be his favourite person, the only one who could give him a gift as special as this.

_____

BONUS:

“lavender bisque. whispering peach. sweet potato surprise…” adelinde murmurs, hunched over a few sheets of paper.

“what is that? is that the menu for tomorrow’s party?” kaeya asks, peeking over her shoulder.

adelinde sighs, shaking her head. “they're sample colours i had sent over for the nursery.”

“nursery?”

“yes–” the colour drains from the poor woman’s face as she realizes her slip. “oh dear!”

the realization takes a few moments to sink into the cavalry captain’s “my brother had sex?!”

for @mydiluc aka mrs diluc ragnvindr for listening to my endless rambles...and also diluc bday fic!!!

#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #diluc x you #genshin x you #f!reader

2K notes · View notes

brenwritesss · 18 days ago

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

⋆˚࿔Paige Bueckers x reader ❀˖°

Summary: Azzi’s been one of your best friends since you were a kid. Transferring to UConn was not easy, but having your best friend by your side made it better. That is until you meet a familiar pair of blue eyes that Azzi makes you swear is off-limits.

“Azzi, I can’t do this no more,” you said, pausing to take a long breath out of exhaustion. “Too many boxes.”

Azzi pushed the last box into your new dorm room behind you. Transferring from UMiami to UConn was not what you had in mind a year ago, but after finishing your sophomore year, you knew you needed something different, even if you didn’t want to leave the beautiful Florida beaches behind. When Azzi brought up the idea of you transferring to UConn, at first you didn’t consider it, but waking up every day to a text from your best friend giving you a reason to why you should transfer to her school may have been enough to convince you.

“It’s your fault for packing up this much shit.” She opens up one of the boxes beside you and reaches for an old psychology textbook. “I mean why are you bringing shit like this with you? You’re not even majoring in psychology.”

You take the book away from her, earning a laugh in return. “You never know when you might need it. Besides, this has all of my old notes in it from when I took psychology freshman year…it could be useful.”

Azzi plops onto your new bed, putting her hands behind her head as she lies down. “You call it useful, I call it hoarding.”

Slightly offended at her joke, you take a pillow from the floor and throw it at her. “Watch your mouth, Fudd.”

Azzi catches the pillow with ease and holds it in her lap. “On that note, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you say, smiling at her. You cross your arms over your chest. “At least now I can finally see you ball in person.”

Azzi let out a laugh that proved your point. “Perfect timing now that I’m cleared to play, don’t you think?”

“You calling me your lucky charm or what?” You send a playful wink and Azzi being Azzi, she blushes before rolling her eyes.

“Stop fucking flirting with me.”

You burst out laughing. “Azzi, babes you need to work on your game,” you say between laughs. “And I’m not talking about ball.”

Azzi could practically get her eyes stuck in the back of her head from the amount of times she was rolling her eyes at you. “You always do this. Enough.”

“It’s not my fault my best friend is so hot,” you continue laughing. “I know I’m not the only one flirting with you.”

“I swear you’re just like Paige,” she says under her breath just enough for you to hear it.

“Paige…like your teammate Paige? From USA basketball camp?”

Azzi meets your eyes and nods. “Yeah, she’s a freak. Always says she’s got ‘top rizz in the world’ or something like that,” she puts her fingers up in air quotations. “She somehow got worse from high school.

“That’ll be crazy to see.” You’ve heard of Paige Bueckers. Who hasn’t? You remember when Azzi first brought her up after competing with her for team USA back in high school. The first time you met Paige was when she flew to Virginia to visit Azzi during her state championship and Katie had you two meet. She definitely made her presence known back then, especially at Azzi’s games, yelling at the refs and constantly bumping into your shoulders.

You remember one night specifically when it was Azzi’s birthday party and when everyone went to sleep, you and Paige went out on a late Taco Bell run because there was no more pizza left. That was the first time you had a real conversation with the blonde girl. And you weren’t oblivious; you noticed when her gaze lasted on you for more than it should’ve. And she always noticed when yours lasted on hers too long. And when you leaned in a little more than you should have; and she mirrored your action.

The last time you saw Paige Bueckers as a friend, you had just received your decision letter from UMiami and had gone to Azzi’s house to open the letter. You remember screaming and jumping with Azzi and her family when you read that you had been accepted. Paige had walked up to you to congratulate you on your admission with a fist bump. The touch was electric and you swore that for five minutes after, you could still feel her knuckles against yours.

Hours later after dinner with the Fudd’s, you walked out of their house to get into your car when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Yo, wait.”

You turn around, seeing Paige in front of you. “What’s up?”

“I’m very happy for you. Miami seems cool.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused as to why she stopped you to say this again when she had said it earlier. “Thanks. Good luck at UConn.”

“Thanks,” she says and pauses, looking as if she was contemplating her next sentence. “Is this the last time I’m seeing you?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. If you ever visit Azzi during breaks, then you’ll probably see me.”

“And if I don’t want to wait until breaks?”

You were taken back. “What?”

“Like when Azzi comes to UConn, which she will, you’ll come visit?”

You shrug again. “Depends on how things go.”

“I’ve actually been wanting to say something to you since that night at Taco Bell.” She looked down at the ground before looking back up at you.

“Okay.”

“Look, what we did…I just want you to know that you kinda been on my mind since.”

You nod slowly. “It’s really hard to take you seriously when you refer to it as ‘that night at Taco Bell.’”

Paige lets out a low laugh. “What would you call it then?”

“Call it what it is. We made out in your car that happened to be parked in the Taco Bell parking lot.”

Paige smiles. “So you’d be down to do it again then?”

“Don’t tell Azzi.”

“Deal.”

“How is Paige?” You ask Azzi, pretending as if you’re just making normal conversation but really, you’re waiting to hear the information you’ve known since you cut things off with Paige.

Azzi shrugged. “Annoying as fuck, ego through the roof, always laughing. So basically the same since you last saw her.”

“Yeah, she’s grown into a bit of a celebrity hasn’t she?”

“Yeah. Have you seen the edits?”

You nod.

“You know what, I should text Paige. Let her know you transferred,” she says, taking out her phone. “I’m sure she’ll be stoked to see you.”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sure she’s busy enough.”

Azzi shook her head. “No she’s not, trust. She asks about you sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I just tell her to text you since she has your number.” Azzi continues to text on her phone, not looking up at you once.

“Like I said, probably busy.”

Azzi puts her phone down after she finishes her text. “One thing I want to talk to you about though.”

“Yeah?” You meet her gaze and bite your lip, waiting to see what she’ll see.

“Paige is a bit different,” she tells you. “I don’t know what happened but after she graduated and came here, she became a bit of a fuckboy. So, if she flirts with you or anything like that, don’t think too much into it because she now flirts with everything with a heartbeat.”

“That’s…interesting,” you comment, knowing the answer as to why she changed. “Out of curiosity, what do you think happened?”

Azzi shrugged. “Don’t tell her I’m telling you this but the Summer before she left for UConn, I think she had a girlfriend or something. She started getting like secretive as fuck and more happy in a way. Then after she left for college, I think they broke up because she was in a slump and started hooking up with girl after girl.”

“Do you know who the girl was?”

Azzi shook her head. “Not at all, but I do know that she broke Paige’s heart. So I automatically hate her by default.”

If only she knew that girl was standing right in front of her.

“Azzi I told you I don’t want to go out tonight,” you argue, trying to walk back to your dorm.

Azzi’s hand grabs yours and pulls you into step with her. “No, you need to make more friends and I want you to meet the rest of my team.”

“Maybe another time,” you continue to argue. This was the moment you had been dreading when you knew that Azzi would eventually drag you out to see her teammates. More specifically, Paige.

“No, you’re going.”

Azzi opens the door to Ted’s and waits for you to walk in before she does. You immediately scan the bar, looking for the tall blonde and your skin immediately started to crawl when you realized she was nowhere in sight. She should be here, you thought to yourself. This is her place, why isn’t she here?

You tried to convince yourself that you wanted nothing to do with her after you chose to walk away from her, but deep down you knew that was a load of bullshit. You just needed to see her.

“Azzi, over here!” A voice called out from over the loud music in the bar. Both you and Azzi looked over to your left being met with a table full of girls, some of which wearing UConn merchandise. You had recognized some of them from when Azzi would post them on Instagram.

Azzi grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the table. Still there was no sign of Paige.

“This is Y/n,” Azzi said as she introduced you to her teammates. “She just transferred from Miami.”

You take a small step behind Azzi, meeting the eyes of all the tall girls who sat there looking at you. “Hi.” Was all you could say because even though Paige wasn’t there, you could practically feel her presence in the air. And that put you even more on edge.

“Girl boo, why you so nervous?” A girl who you recognized from Azzi’s instagram walked to stand beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. “Azzi been talking shit behind our backs or something?”

“KK, can you not?” Azzi laughs over the loud music and grabs a drink that was sitting on the table. “You’re going to scare her off.”

“How can we scare her off? She’s already friends with you,” KK retaliates and the entire table erupts in laughter.

“KK that’s so mean.” A girl who you learn to be Aubrey, says.

After a while you begin to let loose, taking the drinks that Azzi keeps offering you, knowing that at any moment she could show up and you wanted to be drunk for it. It wasn’t a surprise that the team took you in as if you were one of their own and Azzi couldn’t be happier that you had acclimated so quickly.

You felt like you’ve been at Ted’s for days, dancing and drinking so much that you felt as if your entire body could explode within a matter of seconds. You normally weren’t much of the party type, even back in Miami. Sure, you had your fair share of frat and sorority parties but you never stayed for more than a few hours, and it helped that your roommate wasn’t that much into the party scene either.

“So what are you studying?” KK asks you as she sips on a coke.

It takes a while for her words to register with you as your head is being pulled in a million different directions. “Um,” you start, shaking your head as the music somehow gets louder. “Switched from psychology to business my sophomore year.”

KK’s eyes widened slightly. “Period. That’s a huge switch girl.”

You nod, “Yeah, uh…” You can’t feel your head. You can’t organize your thoughts. It’s all too much. You squint your eyes and make eye contact with her. “If you see Azzi, tell her I’m going to get some fresh air. I’ll be right back.”

“O-okay,” KK said with a concerned expression, making you waste no time in heading towards the bar’s exit.

As soon as you feel that air rushing to you, you were finally calming down. You took this moment to ground yourself and lean against the wall of the bar, catching your breath. She’s not coming, no reason to freak out. You grab your phone to check the time, seeing that it was only 11:30 p.m. You shut your eyes, feeling yourself becoming even calmer.

A car door slams about a couple hundred feet away from you and the hair on the back of your neck immediately stands up.

“I told you I didn’t want to come here tonight. Is it so hard to understand that I just wanted to spend time with you alone?” A high-pitched voice echoes through the air.

“And I told you we could have done that any other day. Just not today.” That sounds familiar.

“Why? What’s so special about today that you have to come to Ted’s?” The girl seemed so pissed you could have sworn she would have left by now.

That familiar voice sounded irritated. “Team’s here and I want to hang with them.”

“You see them everyday.”

“Please baby?”

Just look up and open your eyes.

“Fine but you owe me.”

What sounds like a kiss makes it’s way to your ears, making you almost gag on instinct. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

And that’s when you look up and see the tall blonde you have been dreading to see since you arrived in Connecticut. Everything about her was still so perfect. How was that even possible? Those hands you had held, lips you had kissed, arms you’ve been in. The smiles she would give you. It all came rushing back in that instant. Azzi was right, she looked just fine out here without you. You convinced yourself that you would be better without her, finding someone new and moving on. Only in this moment, you realized that she had moved on with someone else and you were stuck right back in the place you had started.

And when her eyes glance up as she’s about to walk into the bar and locks with yours, it’s enough to make her stop in her tracks and make her arms fall to her sides. It’s enough to make you wonder if she really was just fine. You can’t look away and neither can she. Her body tells you that she’s different. That she doesn’t know you anymore. But her eyes tell you that she’s the same girl from senior year. The same girl from the late night drives and secret makeouts. The same girl who told you to come to UConn with her before you left.

You wake up with a pounding headache, feeling groggy and uncomfortable as you shifted to get out of bed. You pick up your phone which is filled with missed messages from Azzi.

Where you at?

KK said you went out for air but you never came back. U ok?

Should I be sending out a search party for you?

Paige just got here and said she didn’t see you outside.

Didn’t see you? That bitch. You were all she could see for maybe five whole fucking minutes. You text Azzi back: sorry had a pounding headache so went back to the dorm. Sad I missed her, maybe next time.

You put your phone back down to change into a new outfit, figuring the best way to distract yourself from Paige would be to go to the dining hall and eat. After getting changed, you grab your phone and walk out of your dorm room, locking it behind you. When you turn back around, you’re met with a tall body in front of you from across the hall.

“Y/n.” Paige is standing in front of you, hair messy and sweatpants just a bit lower than her waistline, exposing the band of her boxers. It was clear to you where she was coming from. And just your luck that you would be living across the hall from her fuckbuddy.

You wanted to scream at her. For what? You had no idea. You wanted her to feel how you felt last night. Every piece of it. So you may have said the most stupidest response you could have ever said at that moment. “Do I know you?”

Her head tilted slightly, the smallest flash of hurt in her eyes. She bites her lip before responding, “You can’t be serious.”

“You should pull up your pants, fuckboy isn’t a good look on you.” And all you do is walk away, leaving her there in the hallway because even though you want to talk to her, you have to move on now. And she needed to know that.

We need to talk.

You don’t get to be upset with me.

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb, letting out a long sigh before putting on Azzi’s jersey. Today they were playing Seton Hall at home and Azzi immediately dropped off her jersey at your dorm, saying you needed to ‘represent your team and show your support.’ In other words, she wanted to make you finally wear her jersey after you had refused to wear it since high school.

You meet up with Kayla early at Gampel, making sure to get good seats to be able to see the court up close. Azzi had introduced you to Kayla shortly after meeting her teammates and the two of you clicked instantly. Because even though she was good friends with the team, she understood what it was like being on the sidelines while they focused on basketball.

“Did Azzi make you wear her jersey?” Kayla asked you, eyeing the huge 35 that was written across your torso.

You laugh, nodding to her as you take a picture of the court on your phone. “Yeah, she’s been trying to get me to wear her jersey since high school. I figured I’d finally let her win that battle.”

Kayla laughs along with you. “She tried to get me to wear it too so I opted for a shirt with her face on it. Same with Paige.”

You hated to admit it but your eyes lit up at the mention of Paige. “Bet Paige loved that.”

“Yeah, she did.” Kayla looks over at you. “You’ve known her for a while right?”

“Paige?” you ask. “Yeah, I met her back in high school when she came to visit Azzi.”

Kayla raised her eyebrows. “So how was she in high school? Huge ego or no?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Ego is always huge. But from what I remember, she was cool. We got along well and she was insane when it came to basketball. Still is.”

“Were you guys close?”

You stay silent for a while, trying to choose the right words. Because you two were as close as two girls could be and nobody knew that. But now you were as far apart as you had been before you had even met. “Something like that.”

The lights dimmed and the announcer came on, announcing the team as each player ran out. Azzi comes running out of the locker room, a huge grin plastered across her face. As soon as she makes it onto the court, she flashes you a smile and sends you a thumbs up, which you return. She sits down as the others run through and you wait for Paige to come out. She was the last to run through and you could feel your heart physically leap out of your chest for her. Fucking embarrassing.

Paige high-fives fans through the tunnels and goes to sit down by Azzi, not before meeting your eyes in the crowd, making her stop in her tracks for just a split second before sitting down. Her eyes were taunting, almost daring you to make a move. And by the look in her eyes, she wasn’t going to reject it either. At least that’s what you were thinking.

The game starts with UConn winning the tip-off and Kaitlyn getting possession of the ball. Throughout the quarter, Paige couldn’t stop making eye contact with you and you knew better than anyone that just your presence alone was enough to throw her off her game. She missed shot after shot resulting in a furious Geno yelling more than usual on the sideline. After missing two free throws, Azzi pats Paige on the back, giving her a look that screams ‘get it together.’ You could tell Paige was tense by the way her hands were balled into fists when she didn't have possession of the ball. She constantly tightened the elastic of her ponytail, a habit she had when she got nervous.

By halftime, Paige looked defeated and maybe that was your cue to leave. It was hard to believe that an ex-girlfriend from high school would be enough to throw off the game of the number one women’s college basketball player in the world. But here we are.

You knew Paige was feeling out of her element, watching past UConn games during your free time back in Miami. She was a good player. A good enough player to not be playing in a funk. Was your presence that triggering?

Eventually, Paige was subbed out, an irritated expression across her face as she sat down on the bench with her shoulders slumped. Caroline sat beside her, patting her shoulder gently to aid her in comfort. Paige took a sip of water before using a towel to wipe off the remaining sweat from her face. You go from staring at the back of her head to making eye contact with her as she turns to look at you. You quickly look away, completely embarrassed over the fact that Paige knew you were definitely already looking at her.

You look down at your feet and then back up towards the game when Paige catches your eye again, nudging her head towards the locker room. You shake your head, trying not to make it obvious to Kayla who was too engrossed in the game even to notice the small interaction. Paige’s mouth created a small line as she gave you an urgent look, resulting in you sighing and getting up out of your seat to walk to the locker room.

You meet her just past the door. “What?”

Paige closes the door to the locker room, leaving only you two inside. She leans against the door and crosses her arms together in front of her chest. “You’re ignoring me.”

You mimic her movement and cross your arms against your chest. “Ignoring what exactly?”

Paige rolls her eyes. “Don’t fucking be like that. You don’t get to be pissed at me. Why the fuck are you upset with me? I haven’t seen you in four years, Y/n.”

Your name came so effortlessly from her mouth like muscle memory. The way her jersey clung to her body, your eyes outlining her biceps up to her eyes. She was magical. You tear your eyes away, not wanting to make it obvious. “I’m not fucking upset with you. I actually haven’t thought about you once since I’ve been here.”

Paige laughs at that. “Not once? Because the way you looked at me outside of Ted’s and outside of your dorm makes it seem like you have a grudge against me or something.”

“I don’t,” you say, avoiding eye contact with her. “What exactly do you want me to say? It’s clear you moved on.”

Paige’s eyes widened, practically popping out her face. “That’s what this is about? Because of that girl you saw me with?” She unravels her arms from each other and points at you. “You fucking broke up with me four years ago. Why the fuck are you upset about me getting with other people?”

“I’m not fucking upset!” you scream as it echoes across the locker room. “I’m trying to leave you in my fucking past and you keep popping up like a goddamn fly.”

“So you thought transferring to the school where I play basketball was a good way to leave me in your past?” she asked you with a dumbfounded look on her face.

“Not everything is about you, Paige,” you say. “I transferred here because I needed out of Miami and Azzi came up with the idea. I don’t care who you date.”

“Right because you definitely weren’t pissed to the point where you pretended you didn’t know who I was when you walked out of your dorm a few weeks ago.”

“Paige.” Your tone becomes lighter. “Up until that night outside Ted’s, I hadn’t seen you since right before I left for Miami. And you look so different to the point where I don’t recognize you.”

Paige rolls her eyes. “It’s called aging.”

You shake your head, giving her an annoyed look. “I’m not talking about your physical look. I’m talking about senior year Paige who went on late-night drives with me.”

“Well, that was the same Paige who got her heart broken by a girl who didn’t even bother trying to make it work. It was clear you weren’t that into me like I was with you.” You could hear the pain in her voice and that made your heart hurt. Even after four years.

“I didn’t break your heart. I’ve heard the stories about what you’ve been up to since we broke up and it seems like you’re doing just fine.”

Paige shifts her body so that she’s standing in front of you again, practically forcing eye contact. Her having a towering height over you didn’t help either. “And what have you heard?”

You meet her eyes and shrug. “Apparently you get around a lot.”

She shoots you a disgusted look. “And you haven’t? Azzi’s told me about the girls you’ve dated since you left.”

You roll your eyes once more. “Okay.”

“You seem to be really into blue eyes and blonde hair by the way. I wonder who set that type up for you.” Paige smirked at her remark, resulting in you letting out a loud scoff.

“At least I tried to date the girls I was seeing.” You take a step closer. “Do all the hookups help?”

Paige looks down at you, taking a step closer with her hands behind her back. “To get rid of the thought of you? What do you think?” You can’t think of anything else to say and she knows it. She knows she’s getting you right where she wants you. “Why are you upset that I was with another girl?”

“It’s hard not to feel some type of way,” you say quietly, mumbling so fast to save your own dignity.

Paige leans closer. “Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”

You sigh heavily before repeating, “It’s hard not to feel some type of way.”

She leans even closer. “One more time.”

“Don’t be a dick.” You pull away from her and she lets out a laugh.

“So after four years, you’re jealous?”

“And you wouldn’t be?”

The look on her face was priceless. Amused yet confused because five minutes ago you were just screaming at her and now you just admitted to your ex-girlfriend that she made you jealous. Paige stepped closer and you had no interest in stepping back. It took everything in you not to step even closer to her.

“You’re infuriating and I should hate you.”

You tilt your head up to her. “And do you?”

“Shut the fuck up.” In a second, she’s on you. Pulling at your clothes and moving her mouth with yours. You waste no time in responding to her touch, moving your lips against hers while your fingers tangle into her ponytail. You let a hand drift down to the base of her jawline and all those old, high-school feelings came rushing back. In that moment you realized just how much of a hold she had over you, her touch bleeding into yours.

This kiss made up for four years of mistakes. Four years of missing her and regretting that decision you made. You needed to prove to her that it wasn’t going to happen again. And by the way her tongue fought against yours was as if she believed it too. Your heart beat picked up as you both fell into a steady and rough rhythm. Paige couldn’t decide whether she wanted her hands around your waist or caressing your lower back, moving her hands upward. You could feel Paige craving you as she moved her lips faster, more aggressively. You kept your hands on her jaw to stabilize yourself as you thought you might faint. You could smell the subtle musk mixed with sweat that drifted off of her, the heat coming off her body and pulling you in.

“What the fuck?” Azzi’s voice pulled your lips apart, causing you to instantly take a step away from Paige, whose hands still lingered on your back.

The two of you, swollen lips and sweaty hands, turn to Azzi who looks as if she has seen a ghost, dropping the towel she was holding from pure shock.

Paige wipes her lips, looking from you back to Azzi. “Az, hey.”

Azzi’s eye twitched, insinuating that she was clearly pissed. “Hey?” Azzi takes a step forward. “What the fuck did I just see?”

You turn to fully face Azzi and Paige looks back at you. You step towards Azzi. “Azzi, I swear this isn’t what it looks like.”

“That’s bullshit. I just saw my two best friends making out.”

You shake your head, “No, no…” you pause. “Well yeah, but we’re not together or anything. It just happened. A one-time thing, I swear.”

Paige’s head snaps toward yours. You fucked up once again. “One-time thing?”

Azzi looks between the two of you. “Y/n, what is she talking about?”

A million thoughts ran through your head, debating if you should tell Azzi that you and Paige had dated. It felt wrong to keep it from her for this long. You sigh, scratching the back of your neck. “Paige and I used to date back in high school.”

“What?” Azzi asked, clearly hurt written over her face.

You walk towards her so that you’re now right in front of her. “That night at your sleepover when Paige was visiting, we left to go to Taco Bell and things happened in the parking lot which turned into us secretly dating for a while.”

Azzi shook her head and looked to Paige, looking for any sense of clarity. “Paige?”

Paige couldn’t look at her, light tears lining her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Azzi’s head drops. “So you both have been lying to me this whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to mess up our friendship or mess up yours and Paige’s,” you say, trying to justify your mistake.

Azzi couldn’t even look at you. “This is fucked, Y/n.” She paces the locker room and suddenly pauses, turning towards you. “You’re the girl.”

“What?”

“The girl who broke Paige’s heart.” Azzi looks between the two of you again. “It was you this entire time?”

Paige steps in front of you, waving her hand slowly in front of Azzi to try to calm her down. “Azzi, that was four years ago.”

Azzi laughs. “So the entire time I watched you hurting was because of my best friend?”

You turn to Paige who avoids eye contact with you. You turn back to Azzi. “It was fucking high school, Azzi. We were both going to college. What was I supposed to do?”

Azzi grits her teeth, pointing a finger in your face. “You weren’t supposed to lie to me. Do you think I would have cared if you dated Paige in high school? No. But now I know that for the past four years, the two of you have been lying to me.”

“Azzi, we didn’t want to hurt you.” Paige stepped in for you, trying to diffuse the situation.

“If you really don’t want to hurt me, you won’t see each other anymore,” Azzi says.

You and Paige both widen your eyes. “What?”

“It would make me more comfortable if you guys didn’t hang out alone. At least not for a while.”

You go to object, wanting to work this out with her to reach any other solution. Because keeping you and Paige apart was not going to end well.

Paige beats you to it. “Anything you want, Azzi.”

Your heart stops and your head snaps to her. How…why? Did she blame you for everything that’s happened? Why would she agree to that so quickly?

The two of them looked at you as they anticipated your answer. You blink a few times, trying to process Paige’s answer. “If that’s what you want then yeah, no problem at all.”

Azzi gives you both a light smile, nodding in agreement. “Okay good. That makes me feel a lot better actually.” Azzi picks up the towel she dropped on the floor, tossing it into a dirty towel bin. She waves Paige over. “Come on, we gotta go.”

Azzi leaves the locker room as Paige turns to you. “Not really sure what to say.”

You roll your eyes. “Really? Because it sounded like you were very sure when you told Azzi you’d do whatever she wanted.”

Paige leans toward your ear, whispering, “Payback’s a bitch isn’t it?”

And just like that, Paige is gone. Again.

#paige bueckers #uconn #uconn wbb #wcbb #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x oc #uconn huskies #wlw #wlw post #angst

833 notes · View notes

keeryhours · 4 months ago

Text

birthday cake - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby Daddy! Rafe

Summary:

It’s Iris’ first birthday, and Rafe may have gone a little overboard.

Warnings:

None, just birthday party fluff, some kissing

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N:

I love baby daddy Rafe. Let me know if you want to see more!

—

“Well don’t you look absolutely gorgeous!”

Iris smiled and clapped her hands, giggling at your excited expression. She was dressed in a big poofy pink dress, white Mary Janes on her feet. Her light brown hair had been gathered into two tiny pigtails. She had a party hat you would try to get a picture of her in later, but you knew better than to try to get her to actually wear it.

It was May 26th, exactly one year since the best, most amazing day of your life.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” JJ called as he walked through the living room carrying an armful of gifts. He had been packing the car the entire time you’d been getting Iris ready.

You picked up your daughter and sat her on your hip, grabbing her diaper bag and your purse with your free hand as you followed JJ to the door.

JJ got the last of the party supplies packed in the back of the car while you buckled Iris in her car seat, which turned out to be more difficult than expected with the floofy dress. You briefly wonder if you should have changed her at the country club.

You got it done eventually, and then you and JJ were on the road to Figure 8.

Rafe had insisted you hire a party planner. You argued with him on it at first, because you are perfectly capable of planning a first birthday party yourself, but he wouldn’t drop it, saying he didn’t want you stressing about planning and setting it up yourself. You had rolled your eyes, but he was paying for it, so you figured, what the hell.

It actually wasn’t bad at all. The party planner had involved you every step of the way just like you’d wanted to be. She let you make all the decisions while she made it all come together. It was honestly amazing.

You arrived at the country club just in time to get settled before guests began to arrive. JJ carried the gifts while you carried the baby. You had planned the party for the perfect time, she was freshly up from a nap and would probably stay in a great mood for the whole event.

Your eyes widened as you, JJ, and Iris walked into the event space that had been booked for the party. The theme you had decided on was Berry First Birthday, and it was the most extravagant baby’s birthday party you’d ever seen.

When Rafe had told you he wanted to take care of the party, you didn’t know what to think. He told you you’d still have full creative control because he knew you’d been looking forward to it, but he was going to cover it and he wanted to hire a planner. He let you make every decision, mostly staying out of it, his only instruction being “It has to be the best for my girl.”

There was a big balloon arch made up of red, white, pink, and berry colored balloons, including some actual strawberry balloons, sitting in front of a large pink backdrop with printed strawberries that said Iris’ Berry First Birthday. A vintage looking white high chair sat in front of it, a banner attached to the front that said One with pink and red tassels.

There was a long table filled with food, including some cookies in the shape of strawberries and a large spread of fresh fruit. There was a table that held champagne, which you thought was kind of funny for a one year old’s party. Another table held a giant 3-tiered white cake decorated with strawberries.

He had really gone all out. You weren’t sure why you had expected anything less.

Rafe came walking over the second he noticed you walk through the door, a grin on his face.

“There’s my birthday girl,” he said, reaching his hands out for Iris. She immediately held her arms out, leaning forward towards him.

You handed her over with a laugh, knowing you were no competition when Rafe was around. She was a complete daddy’s girl.

He placed a big kiss on her cheek as he settled her in his arms, and she giggled.

“You look so pretty, baby girl,” he complimented her, smoothing down the puffy skirt of her dress. “I love your dress.”

“Dadadadada,” she babbled in response, a gummy grin on her face. She still only had about 5 teeth. Rafe wore a pink shirt and khaki colored pants, and it was adorable the way he matched with her.

“You really went all out,” you said, taking in the extravagance of the event.

“Yeah, well,” he said, brushing you off and not taking his eyes off the baby, “she only turns 1 once.”

Rafe was always a real baby hog. Once he took her when you arrived, you had a hard time getting her back. You busied yourself arranging the gifts on the gift table and setting out the gift bags you had put together for all the guests.

Guests began to arrive not long after. You and Rafe greeted them together with Iris, the star of the show, in his arms. She absolutely ate up all the attention, giving everyone a big smile and tolerating being passed around to friends and family.

“It’s my bestie!” Sarah squealed as she walked up with Wheezie next to her, holding her hands out for her niece. Rafe reluctantly handed her over, mostly because Iris had already been reaching for Sarah anyway.

Sarah and Wheezie cooed at the baby, fussing over her outfit and hair. Rafe watched, looking impatient to get her back.

“I can’t believe you’re one already,” Sarah said, looking emotional as she hugged Iris to her chest. Iris tolerated the hold for about 2 seconds before she was wiggling free, and then she was reaching for Rafe again. Rafe took her back with a smug grin on his face.

“Me either,” you said, fighting back tears. You had been emotional all day, you definitely didn’t need to be reminded how monumental of a day it was.

You had been satisfied with cell phone pictures, but apparently Rafe had hired a whole photographer. She called you over now, to the backdrop.

There was a whole photo session while the guests helped themselves to the food and refreshments. Photos of you and Iris, Rafe and Iris, you, Rafe, and Iris together. Pictures with Iris, Rafe, Sarah, Wheezie, Ward, and Rose. Some of you and JJ with her. And of course a group photo with the pogues with the birthday girl in the center.

When it was time for cake, you settled Iris into the vintage high chair. JJ brought over her smash cake, which was a smaller version of the big cake - small, round, and white with strawberries painted in icing decorating it. There was a big 1 candle on top.

JJ handed the cake to you, and Rafe pulled out a lighter and lit the candle.

The two of you walked over to the high chair, holding the cake in front of Iris close enough to see but far enough away that she couldn’t reach the fire.

The whole party began to sing happy birthday, and it was then that it really hit you.

The past 365 days of your life flashed before your eyes. First smile, first laugh, first tooth, first word, learning to crawl. First night home from the hospital, when Rafe never strayed far from your side, holding newborn Iris every chance he got so you could eat and shower and sleep. The day she was born, when Rafe held your hand the entire time you were in labor, wiping the sweat off your face, feeding you ice chips, and telling you You’re doing amazing, babe. How it had been a complicated labor, and when she was finally out and you heard her cry, you both looked at each other and breathed out a collectively held breath of relief. Seeing your daughter for the first time, just a tiny little thing, brand new to the world and snuggling into your chest for comfort. Rafe holding her for the first time, looking at her with pure adoration, and the way he cried (but made you promise not to tell anyone about that).

Your eyes moved up to look at him, and like he had the exact same thought at the same time, he turned and his gaze met yours as you continued to sing the song. Tears welled up in your eyes and you saw his become glassy, too. You both smiled at each other, a million unspoken emotions conveyed between them.

When the song was over, you and Rafe blew the candle out together, watching Iris’ delighted face. Rafe removed the candle and you placed the little smash cake in front of Iris.

She examined it first, cautious. Rafe grabbed her little hand, dipping it in the icing and bringing it to her lips. She gladly put her fingers in her mouth, they were usually there anyway, but her face lit up with a smile when she tasted the buttercream icing.

“See? Mmm, yummy,” Rafe said, beaming at her.

“Ummy,” Iris repeated, and she dipped her hand into the cake willingly this time, grabbing a big handful and bringing it to her mouth.

Rafe laughed, delighted, and clapped his hands together once. Guests were taking pictures and videos on their phones, the photographer getting plenty of shots. Everyone continued to watch as Iris devoured her smash cake, eating until she couldn’t anymore.

You and Rafe cleaned all the cake off of her when she was finished, which always made her cranky. She screamed as you wiped her off, but you and Rafe only laughed. You were still feeling emotional.

The big cake was served to all the guests by country club staff, and again it occurred to you that you had never in your life seen such a grand event for a one year old.

Presents were opened after everyone ate, you and Rafe on either side of Iris as she ripped into her gifts. She was more interested in the paper and empty bags than the gifts inside them, but at least she was having a blast. You knew she’d be excited about the actual gifts later.

The gift table was already overflowing with the amount of guests at the party, but you swore that Rafe himself had brought half the table. It seemed like every other present handed your way had From Daddy written on it in Rafe’s handwriting.

Iris was asleep in Rafe’s arms by the time the guests began to leave. She was absolutely knocked out from all the excitement of the day.

Rafe stroked her hair absentmindedly as you both saw your guests off, thanking everyone for coming.

It was just close family and friends left, JJ and the pogues were loading up the car with Iris’ gifts while you ate another piece of birthday cake.

“Turned out pretty good,” Rafe said, speaking softly as he held your sleeping daughter.

“Are you kidding? It was amazing. You did not have to go all out like this.” You raised your eyebrows at him, icing smeared on your lips.

Rafe reached forward with his free hand, swiping his thumb across your lips and gathering up the icing. He popped his thumb into his own mouth, sucking the icing off as he held eye contact with you. You watched him, stunned for a minute.

“It’s no big deal,” Rafe said as if nothing had happened. “I wanted her to have a good party.”

You just looked at him. He was unbothered as usual.

“Well, it was a great party,” you finally said. “I appreciate it, Rafe.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me for doing things for our daughter. I want to.”

You knew he was being honest. Rafe went overboard sometimes, this being a perfect example, but he had the best intentions and it wasn’t hurting anyone. It was hard not to fall in love with him when you watched him being the world’s best dad.

When the car was packed full and there were still plenty of gifts left, Rafe told the guys to start loading the rest in his truck.

“I’m worried all this stuff isn’t gonna fit in the house,” you said, furrowing your brows as you threw away some trash.

“Anything there’s not room for she can keep at my place,” Rafe offered. Most of her stuff was at your and JJ’s house, because that’s where she spent most of her time, but she certainly was spoiled at Rafe’s too.

When everything was successfully packed up, Rafe buckled Iris into her car seat. She was so tired she barely stirred, continuing to nap as he snapped the buckles around her body and carried her to your car.

Rafe locked the car seat into the base in your back seat. He turned to you, suddenly standing so close.

“I’ll follow you back to the house,” he said quietly. “Help you unload all this stuff.”

Back at the house, you carried Iris’ seat inside, unbuckling her and bringing her to her bedroom while Rafe and JJ unloaded the cars. You changed her out of her dress and into something comfy and let her hair down.

You rocked her in the glider. She was so worn out from her day she started to drift back off quickly, her eyes fluttering shut and body relaxing in your arms.

When you stood to lay her in her crib, you noticed Rafe standing at the door. You slightly jumped when you saw him, not expecting him to be there, which made him chuckle quietly and you gave him a playful glare.

You stepped out of the room, closing the door behind you and Rafe softly.

“She’s tired, huh,” Rafe observed, smiling at you. He was in a good mood today - it had been a good day.

“Worn out,” you agreed.

Rafe reached forward, rubbing his large hand down your arm. “You did really good, by the way.”

“It was fun,” you said. “But the planner definitely did most of the work.”

“She just did the boring part, you made the whole thing come together.”

You smiled back at him. He was being sweet, he was making an effort.

“I know everyone’s been saying it all day, but I can’t believe she’s actually one,” Rafe laughed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It feels like she was just born.”

Your smile was tinged with sadness, the emotions from the day sticking with you. “I know. It’s too fast. All of it,” You shook your head, thinking of how fleeting her baby days had been.

“I just wish…” Rafe began, looking down at his hands instead of at you as he spoke, “That I didn’t have to miss out on any of her life.”

You were silent. You knew what he meant. But you also knew that a relationship didn’t work between the two of you. It was toxic, you were both jealous, you fought all the time. When you co-parented as two single parents, things were easy. If only you could ignore the way he made you feel.

Rafe sighed when you didn’t respond. He said your name softly. You turned to look at him, finding his deep blue eyes staring into yours. He walked up to you until he was standing right in front of you, hand reaching up to play with your hair.

“Rafe…” you breathed, and you knew you should push him away, walk away, anything, but you don’t.

Rafe leaned down until his lips met yours, kissing you softly, gently. You felt yourself melt into his kiss, like every bit of common sense in your brain was dying.

His arms wrapped around your hips, pulling your body flush against his. Your arms went around his neck, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, massaging your own.

You moaned against his lips, which only egged him on more as he slid his hands around your body to grab your ass.

You pulled away just enough to speak. “JJ could walk back here at any second…” you whispered against his mouth.

Rafe’s lips quirked up in a smirk, because he didn’t particularly care about that. But he knew you did.

“Maybe we can go to your bedroom, then?” he proposed, his fingers stroking over your body and sending shivers across your skin.

You wanted to say yes. But it was always a bad idea, always such a bad idea - maybe for once you’d make a smart decision.

“I can’t…” you said, sounding like it pained you.

Rafe just held you for a second longer. Finally, he pressed his lips to your forehead, giving it a kiss as he pulled away from you, squeezing your arm as he let you go.

“I better get going then,” he said, and neither of you wanted him to, but you didn’t change your mind. You didn’t stop him.

Rafe turned and left the house before you could even say anything. You stood in the hallway until you heard the front door closing, his truck starting outside.

You briefly thought about running after him, begging him to come back and spend the night with you. But you don’t. You decide to have more respect for yourself than that.

But you spend the whole night in your bed, thinking of him, aching for him. Until you reach for your cell phone, charging on the bedside table. You send him an impulsive text, just seeing if he’s still up.

His response comes immediately.

Rafey

Knew you’d regret letting me leave.

840 notes · View notes

hannieween · 11 days ago

Text

caught up in you | joshua hong

It all started with a little, harmless lie. After telling your mother that you would bring your boyfriend to her obnoxiously high-society birthday party, you had to improvise. With no actual options to ask, you turned to your dear friend, Joshua Hong. Caught up in this lie, you could only hope that real feelings wouldn’t start to bloom… right?

› pairings: joshua hong x female reader › aus: fake dating to ?, friends with benefits, best friend joshua, obnoxiously rich reader, friends to fucking, surfer joshua › genres: fluff, angst, smut (18+) › word count: 13.1k

⌈THIS FIC IS PART OF THE LONELY HEARTS CAFE COLLAB⌋

🎧: spotify playlist

› warnings: smut with plot, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (f. receiver), making out, a bit of nipple play, hard to soft sex, spanking, cream pie, slight breeding kink. pet names: baby, sweetheart (hers) joshie, shua, josh (his)

› read more

› disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

› author's note: here goes another reader self-insert for ya 🙂

› warning: this is not proofread.

CAUGHT UP IN YOU

prologue

The atmosphere felt dense with warmth and humidity. It didn’t help that the space was clouded by a giant cloud of cigarette smoke that hung in the air, so thick that the fans on the ceiling didn’t break through.

You sat on a round table surrounded by women that surpassed you in age. All friends to your mother, who sat directly across from you, shuffling a thick deck of cards. She did this expertly, her fingers holding the deck steady as the cards fell one on top of the other. Your mother was listening to one of her friends intently, squinting every time the older lady blew a big puff of smoke, almost directly to your mother’s face.

The urge to resist a laugh was nearly impossible, you had to mask it with an awkward cough. Your mother didn’t smoke, and didn’t tolerate anyone blowing smoke to her face. But in occasions such as this, the prohibition seemed to slip her very restrictive mind.

It was a Sunday evening. And on Sundays, your mother liked to spend time with her closest friends, sometimes at your childhood home, other times at one of her friends’ houses. But today, she made the invitation to everyone to spend it at the clubhouse. Her favorite place in the world since you can remember.

The place was plagued with memories from your childhood. You practically took your very first steps here when you were a baby. All the important stages of your life occurred there: learning to ride a bike, swimming, your first kiss, your first heartbreak—you could go on and on. You knew a lot of people; in fact, all of the ladies sharing the table had known you since you were a toddler.

And with that, they have seen you grow up through all of those stages of life.

With the subtlety of a cat, your mother’s eyes panned from the lady’s face and directly to yours. It was a quick glance, something that could’ve been missed in the blink of an unknowing eye. But to you, that glance carried a meaning. In a split second, the moment changed, leaving you hanging, looking for answers.

You looked to the lady talking to your mother, tuning your ear as she paused to take another long drag from her cigarette. Then, as their conversation carried on, between pauses to exhale the smoke, the puffy cloud dodged now by your mother, you understood the intention behind that glance.

“All I’m saying is that youth only lasts so much,” your mother’s friend, which you knew by Ms. Park. “One day you’re carrying them in your arms, and the other they’re getting married. It’s such an experience.”

You didn’t mean to stare, but it was hard to follow the conversation from the other side of the table.

“When I was my daughter’s age, I already had two kids,” Ms. Park said, delivering the sentence as though it were a complaint. “Now kids these days, they won’t get married; they don’t wanna have kids. It’s just a pity.”

“You do what you can to raise them right,” your mother replied, a smile forcing through the rigid features of her face. And then she looked at you again.

Your mother shuffled the deck into a pile, carefully placed in front of her. She separated the stack in two and began dealing hands of five to everyone, including you. Suddenly, the table turned into a nest of bubbling mutters, gossip, and roaring laughter from the women around you.

You looked at your hand, finding out quickly that yet again you had no luck in this game, just like the last. But it didn’t matter. You rarely lucked out.

It was around five in the afternoon, and the sun was beginning to set. The sky was pretty with light blue and pinkish hues, clouds crossing the air, painting white lines across in different directions. Looking out the large windows of the room, a lake stretched out to your view, where people were still partying out the last hours of the weekend.

You held your hand of cards close to your chest, eyeing the table as the women around you laid out their cards by turns, and you waited for yours. The only reason you were there was to appease your mother since it was almost her birthday.

The whirring of a ski boat directed your attention to the outside once again. The boat was cutting through the water, dragging a skier, leaving behind waves splashing against the hull. You only recognized the daredevil skier by the voice that echoed with a long, thrilling cry. The skier, of course, was your best friend Joshua Hong.

A sigh tore from your chest before your mom called your name, her sharp voice snapping you out of it. Her gaze was darkened, the frown from your unfortunate aloofness making her forehead crease. “It’s your turn.”

You showed your game, which was not the weakest among the players on the table, but it was still weak. The game carried on, unaffected by your moves, so you continued to watch the sun setting, painting the sky in darker colors until they blended into complete darkness.

“Darling,” your mother called you as you picked up your sweater and your bag from the chair.

“Yes, mom?” You replied curtly, back tensing as you turned around to see your mother.

Your mother approached, settling a fur coat with gold ring-adorned fingers over her shoulders. “You know I’m making preparations for my birthday dinner, and Elise asked me if her daughter could bring her date and...” she paused, swallowing saliva primly as she averted her gaze to the docks outside. “When are you bringing your boyfriend to introduce me to him?”

You nearly choked on your spit. Mind reeling, it was time to fabricate a plan on the spot. Now, the boyfriend your mother might’ve been referring to was one you dated to commit ages ago. And it might’ve slipped your brain to tell her that the situationship never left its talking stages.

You could already hear the judgment that the words “I don’t have a boyfriend” would bring. The infamy that preceded you, eternally celibate, choked you beyond the power of comprehension. So, like the graceful daughter you were, you lied.

“Well, I was planning on bringing him to the party, of course,” you spat out, your tone high in the adrenaline of lying to your mother with such ease.

Your mother smiled, sighing out contently before replying. “Well, I’m looking forward to that.”

part one, fri(end)s

The sun blazed at the highest point of the sky, reflecting on the ocean. Joshua sat on his surfboard, letting the ebb and flow of the waves softly push him about. It was a quiet day; his friends had abandoned him for a morning of practice, being so that they spent the night prior at a party.

Joshua didn’t mind, he relished in the peaceful quiet that the ocean granted him; it’s vast blue extended before him and blended into the clear sky. He had paddled past the waves, chasing those that seemed exciting, but after a while, he decided to sit still, taking a moment to reflect.

He looked back to the shore, spotting something that wasn’t there when he arrived hours ago. A smile tugged at his lips, deciding at once to paddle back to shore, calling it a day.

You were lying on a towel, a book spread open and resting on your face; its paste was so mangled and worn that it showed how many times you had read the same book. Next to you was Yoon Jeonghan, who, unlike you, was sitting in the shade provided by a beach umbrella. He wore dark sunglasses and a white t-shirt, paired with pink swimsuit shorts.

You, on the other hand, were a sight to behold. Lying on the towel, with one leg crossed over the other, wearing a white bikini that made every curve of your beautiful body so seductive that everyone who passed by had to look at you at least once.

Jeonghan mumbled something under his breath, pretending to scratch the tip of his nose with one hand, and then, to top it off, he cleared his throat loudly.

“Hey guys,” Joshua sighed, brazenly lifting his surfboard to plunge it on the white sand, spraying drops of water all over your feet.

“Hey,” Jeonghan croaked nonchalant.

“Hey!” you complained, skin prickling at the feeling of the cold water on your feet. “Asshole,” you muttered, propping your body on one elbow and lifting the book from your face.

Joshua giggled sweetly, looking at the change in your expression, from genuinely annoyed to surprised, mouth gaping at him. “Sorry,” he said, leaning his head back to tussle his wet hair.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to–,” you sent a meaningful glare at Jeonghan, who just shrugged.

“I tried telling you,” Jeonghan said through his teeth.

It was then when it dawned on Joshua. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, panning from your face to Jeonghan’s, searching for indications that he might’ve stepped in while you were having a private conversation with Jeonghan.

“Ah, no, Josh. I thought you were still in the water,” you stammered, squinting as you looked up at him. Then you gave him a sweet smile.

“Of course not!” Jeonghan said, his high-tone pitch cutting through your act like it was nothing.

“I could leave,” Joshua offered simply.

You rolled your eyes. “Jeonghan shut up from now on,” you deadpanned.

Jeonghan made a face, like a kid who just broke a very expensive set of plates, with a downturned smile and eyebrows lifting on his face. “Got it,” he mumbled.

“No, Josh, you don’t have to leave,” you replied to him. “I was just telling Jeonghan what happened yesterday.”

Joshua narrowed his eyes slightly, catching Jeonghan’s suspicious expression before sitting down on the sand next to you, his body dripping water from head to toe. This was his life—mornings spent by the ocean, with sand between his toes. And his two best friends in the world, always bantering between each other.

“Ah, it was your mom’s thing, right,” he remembered, casting a look at you briefly, only to turn back to see the ocean. “How was it?”

Joshua pretended for a moment that he didn’t get Mingyu to invite him over at the very exclusive clubhouse yesterday just so he could do some water skiing, knowing full well that he could’ve just asked you instead.

You sat up on the towel with a tired sigh. “It was alright,” you said breezily, waving a hand.

“Pffft,” Jeonghan giggled, pretending to be looking at his phone. He lifted his eyes, finding you glaring at him once again. “What?” he mumbled, feigning ignorance.

You sighed out your annoyance, blinking it away as you found Joshua’s face. Droplets of water adorned his sun-kissed cheeks, his big brown eyes studying the weird atmosphere between Jeonghan, and you finally stopped at your face. “My mother’s having a party,” you grumbled.

Joshua frowned; his eyebrows had tiny specks of sand in them. “Uh… I know, she always does,” he replied, smiling as he waited for you to elaborate.

“So, um, she asked me if I’m bringing my boyfriend to her party since I haven’t introduced him to her,” you said, avoiding his gaze. You bit your bottom lip.

The frown on Joshua’s face deepened. “Boyfriend?”

Jeonghan stifled a giggle, which you tried your best to ignore, but all you wanted was to throw him the book you were holding. Instead, you copied Joshua’s pose, resting your elbows on top of your knees. “My mom thinks I’m still dating Seungcheol,” you mumbled.

“Seungcheol?!” Joshua spat, his tone rising. “That fucking prick?”

“Joshua!” you reproached. “He’s not a prick!”

There was a brief pause that Joshua left for you to keep talking because you licked your lips and drew in a breath, as though about to speak again, but when you didn’t say anything, he decided to ask. “Didn’t you stop dating Seungcheol like… months ago?”

Now it was Joshua’s turn to receive one of your glares. They failed to be severe; every time you did that, it reminded him of when you were a little girl, reproaching him and Jeonghan for whatever mischief they were up to at the moment.

“That was a year ago, Shua.”

“Mmmph,” that was all Joshua could muster.

A year ago, Joshua’s life looked very different. His destiny painted a married life, committed to his partner of years, April. A relationship that sucked everything and everyone out of his life, leaving him virtually stranded and directionless when suddenly it all came to an end. As a consequence, he missed out on a lot of things his friends did without him.

“So what, your mom thinks you’re still dating him? Why?”

“Because I didn’t tell her otherwise,” you scrunched your nose in utter shame.

“Why?” Joshua asked.

“Because I couldn’t,” you admitted, a defeated air about you as you dropped your gaze, burying your toes in the sand. “I’m tired of always having the talk, so I lied.”

The infamous talk. It usually began with a “honey, you should start reflecting about what you want in life.”

“Did you tell her you’re bringing Seungcheol to the party?” Joshua prodded, his heart skipping a beat when he thought that you might’ve dug yourself in a hole.

“No, I mean, yes, I mean–,” you cut yourself off. “My mother doesn’t know who I’m bringing to the party. She just knows I’m bringing my boyfriend.”

“But you don’t have a boyfriend,” Joshua muttered dumbly, noticing that the reason why he felt suffocated was because he feared what your answer might be.

A grin broke into Jeonghan’s facial features, an expression that Joshua knew all too well: it announced a plan that may or may not fall into mischief. This was Jeonghan’s modus operandi: start a fire, fan the flames, and then watch it burn from afar.

“If only there was some guy that could pretend being a perfect boyfriend for over a weekend,” Jeonghan wondered, his tone rising in a dramatic one.

You frowned, sending a curious look at Jeonghan. “Right,” you blinked, your mouth parting in awe. “Oh, you’re right!” You gasped, turning to look at Joshua.

“I always am,” Jeonghan said between his teeth.

“Shua, you’re a guy!” you said excitedly, bumping his shoulder with yours to drag his curious eyes back to you.

“That is an obvious observation,” Joshua replied, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Where are you going with this?”

“Would you pretend to be my boyfriend for the weekend?” You asked, eyes shining at the prospect of finding a clever solution to this.

“Pretend to be your boyfriend?” Joshua parroted, blinking confusedly over the worst idea pitch he’s ever heard.

Joshua could see in your face how the crazy idea unfolded in your head. “Yeah, it’s crazy,” you shook your head lightly, giving him a look. “Forget it. I’ll probably just tell my mom that the thing with Seungcheol ended a year ago,” you sighed heavily, a sad smile painting the features of your face. “All this time she’s thought that I was dating someone; come to find out that her daughter is just as celibate as ever.”

Joshua considered your words, hearing the self-pity in them. For all the years he’s known you, he’s seen the pressure your parents exert on you, the sky-high expectations they set, and he’s also seen you reach every one of them. But ever since it struck your mother that you had reached an age where other things were expected of you, she hasn’t stopped nagging you. It always left you unhappy with yourself.

“I’ll do it,” Joshua said, his soft tone making you raise your eyes to find him. “I’ll go with you to the party,” he reassured, giving you a light smile.

“Really?” you asked, your tone rising in surprise. Your skin was glimmering under the sunlight, just like the smile that painted your face when he nodded.

“Sure, I mean,” Joshua sighed, casting a look at Jeonghan’s mischievous face. “What could harm could it do? I’d just have to stand there and make you look good, right? Plus, I get to help a friend.”

“Great!” you gasped delightfully, smiling through the gentle breeze that ruffled your hair all around you. “It’s a deal then,” you stood up grabbing your pretty beach dress. “I have to go, but I’ll text you the details about attire and everything.”

“The what?” Joshua blinked at you, feeling a little dazed from the thrill of a new experience.

You threw your pretty dress over your head, letting it fall down to your knees. “Yeah, mom is having a big party this time. She wants everything perfect and… well you know her,” you looked content as you sighed again, grabbing your sandals, shaking the sand in them. “Gotta go. See you, boys.”

Joshua watched you go, the gentle sway of your body as you went about through the sand. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“You said it,” Jeonghan replied. He had lowered his shades to see you walk away, so he was pushing them back on the bridge of his nose when Joshua looked at him. “You just have to look pretty, smile, and pretend to be the perfect boyfriend. Easy.”

“I didn’t say that,” Joshua replied, his tone flat, but a smile came to his lips.

“Yeah but it’s what you meant,” Jeonghan shifted on the lounge chair, stretching his legs with a tired groan. “She gets what she wants, and who knows, you’ll probably get something out of it too.”

Joshua stifled a laugh. “Like what?”

Jeonghan removed his shades, carefully folding them on his lap. “Like letting your ex know that you’ve moved on,” he replied matter-of-factly. “It is the perfect night for it, you know. A couple of pictures posted on social media, it’ll spread like wildfire.”

Joshua made a face, as though he had tasted something bitter. “I don’t want that,” he said, though his tone betrayed him, sounding insecure of his words. “I just want to help a friend, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah. The benevolent Joshua Hong at the rescue,” Jeonghan chanted, waving a hand dismissively. “You need a little revenge, my friend.”

Joshua scoffed at his best friend, dismissing the idea entirely. “I don’t want revenge,” he muttered, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about it.

It was as though Jeonghan had sparked the idea in his mind, and was waiting for the fuel. “Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that parading around with her—” he motioned a finger to the distance, referring to you. “—for the world to see is not a little bit of a power play?”

“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but the words rang hollow even to himself.

Deep down, he couldn’t help but imagine what his ex would think if she saw that Joshua was moving on. And not only that, but moving on with you. He wondered what she’d feel after cheating on him, only to see him some six months later, standing next to you so unbothered.

Joshua shook his head, shaken by the prospect of doing something so vile. “I’ve moved forward. And I don’t need to prove it to anyone,” he licked his lips, lowering his gaze to the sand covering his feet. “Not even April.”

Jeonghan chuckled, seeing that he’d clearly gotten into Joshua’s mind. “Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that, Shua.”

part two, fake it

“Are you sure about this?” Joshua asked, looking around the sleek, colorful, and stupidly expensive clothing shop. The kind of place people like you and him would find themselves shopping for clothes, though it didn’t happen as regularly for him as it did for you, or so he thought.

“Come on, it’s a cute idea,” you said, holding a matching pair of outfits for you and him to wear for your mother’s party.

The speakers played pop music, filling the air along with the low hum of conversations all around. Joshua had been following you through its mazes of clothes of all types for what felt like hours. He saw you sift through rows of beautiful dresses, skirts, and blouses, but never quite finding something that sated your eye.

Until you held up two matching outfits. One for you, one for him.

“You think it’s too much,” you said, lowering the pair of matching outfits with a deflated look in your eye.

“No, no I think it’s…” he started, knowing that look; the big eyes, the protruding lower lip that was beginning to transform into a pout. “I’ve never done something like this. Let’s do it.”

Joshua had agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend, and now he was standing there, trying to relax and appear effortless in front of you, as though starting to psych himself up for the big night, which was tomorrow.

“Good,” you said, biting your lower lip as you gave him a long look. “You know I wouldn’t want you to do something you don’t want to, right?”

Joshua blinked, a thought flashing in his mind. “Why do you say that?” he inquired, pronouncing each word slowly. “I told you I’d do it. I want to do it.”

You sighed tiredly. “Because this is crazy and you agreeing to it so easily makes me think that something bad is going to come out of it, you know?” you said, your words ringing with a mixture of desperation and shame.

Joshua laughed upon hearing your whines. “Relax,” he tilted his head to one side, grabbing the pair of outfits you’d picked. “Nothing bad is going to happen,” he gave you one look, studying you. “What could possibly happen?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled as he motioned for the dressing rooms. “I guess that this feels like it’s too good to be true, you know?”

Joshua snorted, his nose wrinkling as he smiled at you. “Dating me too good to be true, is that what you’re saying? Got it.”

“Shut up. And it’s the other way around, silly,” you sighed, a shy smile tugging at your lips. That was the girl Joshua’s always known. Shy, but never afraid to engage in something mischievous, like your brilliant plan of pretending to be a couple just to get your mother out of your hair.

“Yeah, because you’re a serial dater, right,” Joshua nodded at you, giggling softly when you bumped shoulders with him, affecting more your stability than his.

You stumbled slightly but stopped when you were at the entrance to the dressing room, holding a nice dress in your hand. “Stay here; I want your opinion on this,” you said, raising the hook, and signalling the dress before turning away from him.

“Okay,” Joshua said, leaning against the wall and pulling out his phone.

Some minutes later, you came out of the dressing room, wearing a pretty deep blue dress that accentuated your waist beautifully. You smoothed the silk over your tummy, checking yourself out on the large mirror before turning to him. “Well?” you asked, a flat expression on your face, one that covered a slight twinge of nervousness.

Joshua eyed his phone screen, trying his best to ignore that he got a glimpse of your exposed back when you turned away from the mirror. “You look alright,” he said, clearing out his hook loudly. He pocketed his phone and swallowed back a sigh. “You look—,”

“Alright?” you scoffed, turning to the mirror again. “I look amazing.”

Joshua smiled at you, sighing in the process because you had turned your back on him. He saw the way the dress hugged your waist, the way your back looked. “You look passable. You don’t look like a gremlin in her cage anymore,” he shrugged, trying not to laugh at the dignified expression on your face.

“Please, you’re lucky to have me as a girlfriend,” you deadpanned, twirling once more in front of the mirror.

Joshua just laughed, but he couldn’t ignore the feeling flickering in his chest when you caught the way was watching you through the mirror.

You would’ve said something, mock him about it. If only weren’t for the feeling flickering inside your chest. As well.

It was nothing, you tried convincing yourself. Push it down; you commanded yourself and ignored it.

For now.

The ride over the villa was quiet. It screamed something was brewing in here, and Joshua was not sure whether he should feel danger or not.

He’d offered himself to pick you up and drive to the villa that your mother rented for the weekend. Joshua thought that the idea of a cliffside villa was extravagant, and you seemed to think the same way too, by saying that it was exclusive and would have nowhere to run if you and him needed to—just in case everything went to complete hell.

You were only meant to spend the night of the party there. So you just packed a bag with everything essential, makeup remover, toothbrush, mouthwash, pjs, underwear and a change of clothing.

Joshua looked too calm and collected for your liking, because you were totally the opposite. He wore a pair of dark pants, and a black t-shirt that he meant to change into a dress shirt once he got to the destination. His slick brown hair was styled carefully, a single strand of hair hanging on the middle of his forehead perfectly.

You let out a loud sigh. “It’s not too late to turn the car around,” you muttered sullenly. “I could tell my boyfriend got into a car accident, or was abducted by aliens… or eaten by a troll.”

“Aliens don’t exist,” Joshua giggled merrily, glancing at your face while keeping the wheel steady with one hand.

“So you’re saying trolls do?” you retorted, smirking smugly at him.

“Yeah, I’m looking at one,” he pointed, laughing harder when you slapped his shoulder.

“Clown,” you muttered under your breath.

“You love me,” he said, flashing you what you called his shit eating grin.

“I tolerate you,” you pointed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua shook his head, pointing a finger at you. “No, no, you adore me,” he said playfully, shrugging with an effortless air around him. “Admit it. You’d be lost without me in this mischievous little plan of yours. Just admit it.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching to grab your tumbler that you had forgotten in the cup holder.

Joshua watched you sip from your green tea, which had gone cold, looking out the window as the car continued its smooth ascent up the road. Joshua’s phone, which was mounted on the dashboard of his BMW, estimated thirty minutes to arrive at the cliffside. “Hey,” Joshua called, dropping his foolish act at once. He used a hand to nudge at your knee, demanding your attention to him.

“Yeah?” you asked, turning to look at him. Your tone indicated that you hadn’t taken any offence from the playful banter, since this was the way you and him always behaved, since childhood.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone soft in a way that made your insides melt at once.

Your expression softened. “Yeah, I’m—,” you swallowed hard, the tension in your stomach wasn’t easing. The thought of stepping into your mom’s party was making you feel on edge, you could already imagine it, the scrutinizing stares, the subtle judgement, the backhanded comments. The endless reminders that you weren’t living up to the family name, to what your mother had already accomplished when she was your age.

“I just hate that I’m never going to be good enough for her, you know,” you sighed, dropping your gaze to your hands holding your tumbler. “And now I’ll have to perform in front of everyone to be perfect.”

Even if when you accomplished some things for yourself, it was never because of your own effort. Your success only happened because she aided it. That’s how your mom saw it, that’s how everyone at her party saw it too.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that I’m here to make it all worse,” he grinned, trying to get that spark in your eyes again.

You resisted the urge of shoving his arm. “Shut up, Shua.”

He giggled softly, but then something about the gloomy look on your face pushed him to be serious. “Seriously. I get it,” he shrugged. Deep down, he felt what you were going through. Not living to everyone’s expectations was hard.

A long time ago, Joshua was decided to follow down a path that looked so different to where he was now. He was supposed to propose to April. Live a happy married life with her, until everything blew to ash, showing him what the reality was. No romance can truly blossom when both hearts have grown indifferent to it, no matter how hard you try.

Maybe that was why this whole plan of yours felt easier than it should have.

“So…” he crooned. “Are we talking about ground rules or are we just winging this?” he asked when the estimated time of arrival marked fifteen minutes.

“Ground rules,” you decided, nodding your head primly.

He smirked. “Good,” he said. “I don’t want you falling in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes so hard he almost saw them turn into white completely. “Right,” you huffed. “Because you’re the hottest one of us in this relationship.”

“Finally, a little bit of honesty,” he sighed, grinning widely.

You stared at him. “Rule number one, no touching.”

Joshua snorted. “Don’t you think that will decrease the chances of your mother believing this?”

“Right,” you sighed. “Hand holding is okay, I guess. You could put a hand on my waist, if we’re having trouble selling it.”

Joshua eyed you, trying to focus on the road ahead but the thought of putting a hand on your waist after seeing what you’ll wear on the party made him slightly dizzy. “Got it,” he muttered. “Pet names?”

“Uh, I’d rather vomit in my own mouth, thank you,” you scoffed, using a hand to toss your hair away from your shoulder. You looked at him through the corner of your eye. “No kissing either.”

“What, are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me or…” he joked, the smirk on his face deepening.

“Wipe that fucking smirk of your face, Hong,” you deadpanned. “And no, I’m more afraid I’ll be scarred for life.”

Joshua laughed, shaking his head lightly. “Okaaaay,” he rolled his eyes. “No kissing, no pet names. Anything else?”

You took a moment to think, racking your brain to remember what it felt like when you dated Seungcheol. You hated that he called you doll, or that he wanted to kiss you all the time and in front of everyone. And above all, you hated that after the thing crashed and burned, he was weird with his friends about it.

“Don’t be weird after this, please,” you said, your tone flat and your face serious. “This ends when the party does, alright?”

“Alright,” Joshua agreed effortlessly.

But you kept going. “I don’t want to find out that you’re telling other people about it in a weird way like that loser—,”

“I get it!” Joshua interrupted, laughing at the maniacal way you were talking. “No being weird about it.”

“Good,” you nodded, satisfied.

“That goes both ways, then,” he said.

“Obviously.”

Joshua tapped his thumbs on the wheel, his mind spinning with all the information he just got from you. No kissing, no touching, no being weird, he kept repeating to himself. “One more thing,” he started, trying to stay focused on the road. “What if a guy tries to hit on you in the party?”

“What do you mean?” you asked slowly, trying to decipher where he was going with it.

“Should I just stand back and let it happen? Or should I cut in and punch him?”

Your eyes widened at the thought of Joshua punching someone. “This isn’t some bar where you can start a brawl in!” You chastised, tone rising in exasperation.

“I’m only theorizing!” Joshua giggled. “What, would a perfect boyfriend just stand back and watch it happen?”

“No!” you replied with an obvious tone. “But do not start a fight at my mom’s party!”

“Then what should I do in that case?” Joshua retorted, already knowing his question was stupid.

“It’s fine if you act possessive, but no punches, okay?” you said.

Joshua shook his head again. “You’re unbelievable, woman,” he muttered.

“Joshua.”

He grinned. “Okay, okay,” he giggled in clear surrender.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw you sigh, a smile painting the pretty features of your face.

The villa your mother rented offered you a room with two large beds that connected through a large bathroom. The rooms were large, both had a balcony overlooking the cliff, the ocean stretching out to your view.

You were standing in front of a mirror, looking at yourself for the umpteenth time, it felt like. You wanted to look good, but not spectacular. You wanted to be seen, but at the same time you wanted to go unnoticed.

Through the mirror, you saw him peek through the crack of the door before softly knocking three times. “May I?” he called.

“Come in,” you replied, turning your back to the mirror to see him entering the room.

“Hey you,” he said, smoothing out his dress shirt and extending his arms at his sides as if presenting himself to you.

“Hey you,” you replied sweetly.

“Well?” he said, leaning against the door frame. “How do I look?”

Your heartbeat faltered. You had chosen a dress shirt that matched the color of your dress perfectly, thinking that you’d look good in that color. But what you hadn’t foreseen was that Joshua would go with that color perfectly. He looked gorgeous, hair slicked back, the upper buttons of the shirt undone, absentmindedly fixing the cuffs on his sleeves as you pretended to study him.

“You look fine,” you replied dismissively.

“Pfffft.”

You huffed in defeat. “You look handsome.”

“I know,” he showed you his infamous shit-eating grin, winking an eye at you. “Are you ready?”

You released a big sigh. “Just let me put on my shoes,” you said, sitting on the armchair pushed to the corner of the room.

Joshua saw you put on your high heels, the skirt of your dress hiking up your crossed legs as you buckled the belt around your ankles with delicate fingers. You stood up, walking up to him. His gaze flickered over you, just briefly, before he smirked, because you looked beautiful.

“Let’s go,” you said, not knowing what you saw in his eyes.

“Let’s go,” he replied, clearing his throat awkwardly.

The elevator ride to the ballroom was quiet, and this was the kind of quiet that neither you nor Joshua knew how to respond to. It didn’t scream danger, between you two, but at what expected both of you when you reached the floor.

Your stomach tightened as the elevator doors parted with the softest ding. “Okay,” you whispered to yourself. But then your breath caught, Joshua’s fingers slipped between yours, intertwining them like it was as natural as breathing to him.

You raised your gaze to look at him, his expression blank, almost as though he was stepping into a different man. But then he lowered his gaze at you, his brown eyes bringing you peace at once.

“Showtime,” you breathed.

He nodded at you, and you could’ve sworn in that moment—Joshua Hong looked nervous.

The ballroom was stupidly lavish, golden chandeliers filled with crystals, waiters in white gloves moving gracefully among the groups of guests, and a live band playing softly in the background. Everywhere you looked, you saw familiar faces: business magnates, celebrities, people my mother adored and people that you had spent years trying to avoid.

Joshua felt you tense up at his side, and he softly tugged your hand pulling you closer to his side as though saying, “Walk by my side,” when you started using him as a shield from the onlookers.

It worked, because when you started walking side by side with him, it was as if you had also stepped in a persona, same way that Joshua did before. His poise was elegant, carefully tailored to this world. He was perfect for this. And you better match up to that, you thought.

“What are we doing first, say hi to mom, or straight to the bar?” Joshua muttered at your side, his tone coated with the same playfulness as before.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his unseriousness. “I think first order of business has to be saying hi to mom,” you said, lifting your head to look at him.

Your stomach clenched again, because Joshua was giving you the most adoring look you had ever received in your life. Oh, he’s good at this, you thought, seeing his lips twitch in the tiniest of smiles.

“Don’t be smug about it,” you whispered, chastising him.

“What, I can’t have a little fun with this?” he asked, giggling softly as you huffed again.

“Oh, sweetheart!” your mother cooed in the distance, cutting what little hope you had of this plan going well, because you turned on your heels, nearly losing balance if it weren’t for Joshua holding you steady.

“Mom!” you gasped. “Hi!” you said, your tone unnaturally high.

Joshua tightened his grip on your hand slightly, as though commanding you to relax. And it worked, you released a breath, trying to expel your nervousness as best as you could.

Your mother approached, her heels clacking against the white marble floor. She opened her arms at you, nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs when she pulled you into a hug. Your heartbeat raced as you released Joshua’s hand to clumsily wrap your arms around your mother.

“You look divine, baby,” your mom said, bringing a hand to pat the back of your head.

“Thanks, mom,” you replied, reveling in her approval.

“Oh, you must be the not-so-mystery man,” she released you from the warmest hug she’s ever given you, only to smile at Joshua and offer her hand at him. Which Joshua took, shaking hands primly with your mom.

“Happy birthday, ma’am,” he said smoothly, uttering your mother’s name as though he had asked you hours before, which he didn’t. “I hope that you still remember me; Joshua Hong,” he said, flashing a charming smile at her.

“And here I thought that you were committed to keep me in suspense forever. I stand corrected.,” she straightened her back, giving you a look that only made the hair of your arms stand. “But why did you omit that you were dating your dear friend Joshua?”

You showed her an unamused smile. “Surprise.”

“Well, I guess I'll just have to be content that my daughter isn't completely unapproachable,” she chuckled, covering her mouth with her gold-adorned fingers.

Joshua blinked, and he saw it. He saw the reason why you were so nervous. “With all due respect, ma’am,” he said, grabbing your hand and giving you another one of those adoring looks. “You raised the perfect woman.”

The air left your lungs, and you were pretty sure that Joshua felt your body shift beside him.

The smirk on your mother’s face erased completely, and then you knew she was getting a measure of the man that Joshua Hong was. “Oh?” she egged.

“I’m just lucky to have been chosen by her,” he said, and his words rang true to him somehow, even if this whole thing was fake, he was glad you had chosen him to do it.

You didn’t have the time to study his demeanour any further, because your mom smiled politely at him, and said. “You’re sweet,” she pointed, looking at you sternly. “Well, let’s hope it lasts.”

And then she walked away, waving at her guests and stopping by to hug those she adored, as though she hadn’t just given you a threat in front of everyone in the room.

You exhaled sharply, trying to swallow the rageful tears that had started brimming in your eyes. “God,” you gasped.

“Thar was…” Joshua started, at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

“My mom,” you said, looking up to the chandeliers above you to break the tears forming up. “That’s my mother.”

Joshua chewed on his bottom lip pensively, looking at you shake with so much anger you couldn’t even breathe steadily. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah, like three already,” you sighed, lowering your head to mask that you couldn’t fight your tears, which you brushed with the back of your finger swiftly.

“Hey,” he called softly, and you tilted your head back to look at him. “Keep your head up. Don’t let her see you cry. We’ll get through this, just stick to the plan.”

“Right,” you nodded, sniffling quietly. “Stick to the plan; drinks.”

Joshua sighed a smile, tugging at your hand to make sure you walked side by side with him. “Come on.”

“Do you think she bought it?” you asked when you reached the bar sitting on the stool clumsily.

Joshua watched you fight against the stool that couldn’t stop moving. “Stand up,�� he muttered, sending a quick glance around the room.

You blinked dumbly, but lowered your feet to the ground. “What?” you asked curiously.

“Stand close to me,” he said, calling the barman while reaching to grab your waist.

Your breath hitched as you felt his warm, large hand slip on your waist effortlessly, the tips of his fingers reaching the exposed part of your back. “Why?” you asked, breathing fitfully.

He lowered his gaze to meet yours. “If you stick close to me, it’ll be easier to make people think we’re in love,” he muttered, his tone flat and his expression unreadable.

“Right,” you scoffed.

“Seriously,” he said. “Would you really like to stay away from someone you’re in love with?”

“Or,” you started. “This is your lame excuse to grab my waist.”

Joshua hummed in thought. “What if it is?” he said, the corner of his mouth curving slightly.

“God, Joshua!” you chastised, trying to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

“Stop that,” he hissed, keeping his expression smug. “We need to sell this, remember?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you gritted, looking around to check if someone had seen the exchange.

“Ridiculously brilliant, handsome, smart, hot,” he smirked, nodding at the barman who just approached. “One old fashioned for the lady, one whisky on the rocks for me,” he said, remembering your favorite drink.

“Huh,” you huffed, slightly amazed.

Joshua turned, winking at you. “Thank you sir,” he said, handing you the drink.

You ate the cherry first, swiftly picking it up from the pick with your tongue, knowing Joshua’s gaze was on you. You raised your eyes at him, drinking from your glass deeply.

“Cheers,” he shrugged, downing his drink in two gulps with a satisfied sigh.

“I think I need another,” you sighed, signaling the barman, which he replied to you with a nod of his head.

“Easy, we don’t want this to turn into Cabo again,” he muttered, reminiscing of the day you got so wasted you ended up dancing on top of the tables of a bar. Joshua had to carry you on his shoulder back to your hotel room.

“Cabo was fun, this is terrifying,” you replied. “And unlike you, I need to be drunk to do this.”

Joshua let out a chuckle. “Relax, we could just stick around for small talk for an hour or two, then we could act all lovey dovey on each other and pretend to scurry to our hotel room.”

Your tummy clenched. “God, I hate that idea,” you sighed, grabbing your second drink, eating the cherry first again.

“Or we could pretend to get in a couples’ argument, and then scurry back to our hotel room,” he offered his alternative with a smug look on his face, like he already knew what your answer would be.

“No,” you shook your head. “That would defeat the purpose of this stupid plan.”

Joshua scoffed. “This was your plan, sweetheart,” he muttered.

“Which means it’s only destined to crash and burn, like everything in my life,” you said through gritted teeth, right before tipping the glass in your mouth. You tried to ignore the affectionate name he called you, but you couldn't ignore the tingling in your face.

Joshua opened his mouth to say something, anything. A quippy retort, something sarcastic, anything. But the moment was stolen away from him swiftly.

“Is this… my favorite niece?” a man of thick voice said from behind.

You straightened up, almost choking on your drink before turning around and chant: “Uncle!”

Joshua stood back, watching you being pulled into a tight hug. The man you called uncle laughed merrily, swaying you back and forth as he hugged you tightly.

“Look at you. You’re gorgeous, my dear!” he said warmly. Sending a quick look at Joshua and then paused, noticing something. “And who’s this?” he asked you.

“Oh, thi-this is—,” you stammered awkwardly, looking at Joshua meaningfully. “My b-boyfriend, Joshua.”

Joshua offered a hand. “Joshua Hong, sir. Pleasure to meet you,” he smiled, bowing his head politely.

Your uncle stretched hands with Joshua, while squinting his eyes at him slightly. “Have I seen you somewhere?” he looked at you. “I feel like I’ve seen his face somewhere.”

“Probably on TV, uncle,” you smiled at Joshua.

Your uncle arched one of his unkept eyebrows.

“I’m a professional surfer, sir,” he complemented. “I competed last year.”

“He won bronze,” you added, a proud smile on your face which made Joshua’s tummy twist.

“Oh, yes, yes I think that might be it,” he said, still eyeing Joshua suspiciously.

But Joshua, he played it cool. He stood still, offering one of his small but charming smiles. Like he’d had this conversation a million times.

“Well,” your uncle finally said, scratching his chin. “I can’t say I’m the expert in surfing, but I know it takes a lot of balance,” His gaze drifted briefly to you and then back to Joshua. “You got good balance, son?”

Joshua didn't miss a beat. “I do what I can,” he said, flashing an unfazed smile. “Haven’t slipped in years, sir.”

Your uncle let out a gruff chuckle. “That’s good to hear. Wouldn’t want you slipping up, son.”

You felt Joshua tense up beside you, but he kept himself at ease, slipping a hand on your waist again. “Don’t worry, sir,” he said, tugging your body closer to his. “I do the best I can.”

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, content with Joshua’s responses. He nodded and excused himself, walking through the sea of your mother’s guests until you lost sight of him.

“Was I just threatened?” he sighed, starting to laugh nervously.

“Yeah, kinda,” you gave him a pitiful smile. “But if it makes it better, that just says that he liked you. Imagine how he treated the guys he didn’t like.”

“So I got his approval through light intimidation?” he huffed, amazed by how he was being received in your family as your fake boyfriend. “Huh.”

“Yeah, don’t get too comfortable.”

But Joshua felt his own smile fade, his eyes lingering on your face for a long second. He breathed out, trying to hold a rein to his body but failing miserably, his hand slipping from your waist to your lower back, feeling the skin that wasn’t covered by your pretty dress.

He wondered why he already felt too comfortable. But he couldn’t find any answers, not even in your eyes, which widened as you felt his hand on your skin, igniting every single inch inside you.

You coughed. “Josh, hands off,” you snapped.

He quickly dropped his hand, tucking it inside the pocket of his pants. He ordered another drink, trying to push down the pulsating feeling inside his chest.

But you, on the other hand, knew that you were doomed. As soon as Joshua’s hand came in contact with your lower back, you felt it, your pulse quickened, your skin heated up. Not only that, but his fingers had brushed against your skin, and you couldn’t help but think of his hands, his long and round fingers, the veins that trail from his knuckles to the rest of his arms. His wrist was adorned with a Rolex watch, and the other with a silver bracelet, one that he had gifted himself on one of his birthdays.

You were doomed, because in the blink of an eye, you saw his hands on you, grabbing your body, touching your skin.

You ordered another drink, ignoring the look that Joshua gave you. “I can’t do this sober,” you sighed, avoiding his knowing gaze.

The night dragged on. And the snappy attitude on your part had begun to fade, to the point where you decided to stop drinking and focus on getting back to your room in one piece. But that wasn't all.

Joshua had kept a firm hand on your waist, only shifting it to grab your hand to keep you from returning to the bar and ask for another drink. It wasn’t that he was cutting your fun, you noticed that he was offering himself as an anchor for you to keep yourself afloat.

Ever the benevolent hero, his thoughts echoed Jeonghan’s words. It almost felt like he heard Jeonghan say them forever ago.

“Hey,” Joshua muttered, calling your attention with a soft pinch to your chin. “All sobered up now?”

You blinked dumbly at him, a slow smile stretching on your lips. “Yeah, why?” you drawled.

Joshua smirked knowingly. “Oh, yeah you’re all sobered up now.”

“Just give me ten minutes,” you giggled shamefully, clearly still tipsy but lucid enough to walk and talk.

Joshua sent a glance across the room, finding your mom’s eyes on him. He smiled at her politely, leaning down to press his lips on your hairline. “Your mom’s been looking at us the whole night,” he muttered, closing his eyes briefly.

“Yeah, I don’t think she believed I’ve been dating my best friend this whole time without telling her,” you mumbled, running your hands down his linen shirt, feeling his hard chest without much thought. “It’s okay, this was probably doomed to fail since the start.”

Joshua stopped leaning, pulling back just to get a sight of your face. “Damn. I’m doing a terrible job as a boyfriend,” he giggled softly.

“Yeah, you’re fired,” you said, giggling with him. The sound did nothing to remedy the tight feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach.

He swallowed, the bubbly sound of your laughter created a deep blow to his chest, it screamed danger. This was supposed to be an easy experiment: come with you to the party, hold your hand and smile. That was it, easy, smooth, fake. But now, leaning towards your face, he couldn’t help but think that what he felt was real.

“What can I do to earn my job back?” he said, but the risqué in his demeanour waned. His tone came out soft, like dulled by something he couldn’t quite place.

The smile on your face faltered, but just for a second. You wanted to believe the spark that you saw in Joshua’s eyes, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. This was just his way to flirt, to have you all flustered—by the end of tonight it wouldn’t mean a thing.

“You can keep your job for tonight, Hong,” you replied, and he was glad to know that whatever had robbed him of his voice, it had robbed you of yours too.

But Joshua wasn’t backing down, he needed you to see the urgency brimming inside him, the please tell me you’re feeling this too, look in your eyes. But you were smirking at him, the playfulness in your eye told him you weren’t seeing what he wanted to tell you without words. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Your breath coiled around your throat, your eyes widening with shock. You read his face, over and over, beginning to understand that maybe your hopes weren’t misplaced. “Yes,” you whispered, eyeing his lips briefly. “Kiss me.”

Joshua didn’t think twice, he dipped his head to meet your lips with his own. Kissing you was just as easy as pretending to be your boyfriend, he found out. Your cherry lips were soft, warm, everything he imagined them to be. The way your lips fit into his own, moving seamlessly in a soft kiss—it was real.

There was a brief pause, but neither you nor Joshua dared to back away. Lips lingered touching, your breath warm in his mouth, he could taste the cherry, the sweet and sour whiskey. It was intoxicating.

He dove for another kiss at the same time you did, a small hum bubbling in your mouth. This kiss was harder, hotter, demanding for something that Joshua was eager to give you: passion, pleasure, his whole and undivided attention.

“I must admit,” you hummed softly, backing away slightly, looking at his eyes and then his lips, wet with your drool and his. “Breaking rules feels awesome.”

Joshua smiled, slipping a hand on your nape, his fingers tangling in your mane of hair. “And you haven’t seen anything yet.”

You were surprised when the next kiss was softer, his lips pressing on yours gently with small pecks. It quickly got you drunk, and not the kind that made you say stupid things, but the kind that made you do stupid things. Warmth started sizzling under your skin, as Joshua kissed your bottom lip softly.

But your aching feet betrayed you, making you stumble back clumsily. Joshua quickly put his hand on your lower back to keep you from stumbling further, he pulled back, reading your face expertly.

“Let’s get you to your room,” Joshua whispered, reaching to grab you hand, calling it a night.

Your heart faltered, but you followed him obediently. “Yeah, okay,” you replied, walking clumsily on your sore feet.

As you walked inside the elevator, you caught your mother’s eye. In the distance, you could see a tiny smirk on her face, giving you a knowing look, and before you could dwell on the moment, the elevator doors closed.

The villa had grown quiet, now that it was past midnight and mostly all of the rooms were booked by the people back in the ballroom. Joshua was still firmly holding your hand, like he was pretending to be your boyfriend until the end of the night, just as planned.

His slick and carefully tailored demeanor had unravelled a little, he had rolled up his sleeves, the top buttons of his shirt undone. But his hair had remained perfectly done, even though he had ruffled it throughout the night many times.

You felt like you were the opposite to what he showed. Your feet ached, your hair had lost its composure somewhere along the night, and your whole body felt heavy with exhaustion, but you carried the heaviest weight in your heart.

Because you didn’t want the night to end. Even though you had gritted your teeth through most of the night, his hand on yours was the best thing of it.

Joshua reached for the doorknob, and you swore he felt you take in a deep gulp of air. Because he turned, smirking at you. “Do you need me to tuck you in, or you got it?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that drunk anymore,” you said with a sigh.

But Joshua didn’t let go of your hand, not even as he led you inside the room. “If you say so.”

And for a moment, you two stood there, in front of the doors that separated the bedrooms. Joshua saw you, missing an opportunity to kiss you again with every second that went by. He breathed in, his heart beating fast—faster than ever before.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” he asked one more time, searching your eyes.

“I can manage,” you replied, swallowing hard to push down that feeling. “But I’ll leave the door open.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he whispered.

And then, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, right before letting go.

part three, did we make it?

You lay in bed, covered with the sheets up to your nose, your head spinning, but not from the alcohol. You stared at the ceiling, thinking about what had happened at the party.

You replayed every moment in your head, thinking of the way Joshua played his role so naturally. The way he grabbed your hand effortlessly, when he told your mother you were the perfect woman, every time he looked adoringly at you.

Your chest tightened. It was over, the night was over, so your little plan had also come to an end. But you couldn’t help but wish that the night had been endless.

You had broken one rule, no kissing. You scoffed quietly at yourself. You had been so adamant to keep him at arm’s length that you didn’t realize that you had been playing yourself until it was too late.

You let out a slow breath, rolling onto your side, staring at the empty bed across the room.

You felt ridiculous. You had dragged Joshua into this stupid mess, none of this would’ve happened if you had kept your mouth shut and told your mother the truth to begin with. These feelings you tried so hard to push down, would’ve never had bloom if you had.

But just as you closed your eyes, commanding yourself to surrender to sleep, one memory lingered. His hands on you, his lips as he kissed you.

You weren’t just thinking about Joshua.

You needed him.

And that was far more dangerous than anything your little plan could’ve thrown at you.

You sighed, tossing the bed covers aside and pushed yourself out of the bed, silently making your way to Joshua’s door, which remained half closed. Heart pulsating on your temples, you pushed the door open, the hinges humming softly making your pulse worsen.

You held your breath, trying to see through the dark if he had fallen asleep, or if you had woken him up with the noise. But couldn’t get anything, so you pushed the door further, letting yourself in his room, and thus releasing all self-control you had in you.

Joshua turned on the bed, pushing himself on his elbows just as you climbed on top of him, holding onto his shoulders just as he eased his back on the mattress, welcoming you on top of him with his hands.

“Hey, you,” he whispered, grabbing you by the waist.

“Hey, you,” you replied with a shaky tone.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, but placed two fingers on your chin, pinching it softly right before he pulled you for a quick kiss.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you blurted, slipping your lips between his.

Joshua could’ve sworn that he had never been more pleased to hear those words. He let out a sigh of amazement, squeezing your waist with his hand, feeling the silk of your nightgown. “Oh, yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth right before sitting up on the bed, with you straddling his lap.

“Yeah,” you sighed sweetly, tipping your head back as he kissed the underside of your jaw.

“That’s good to hear,” he purred against your skin, pressing his lips on your neck, loving the way you instantly tensed up on top of him.

“Why?” you asked, eyelids fluttering wildly as he continued kissing down your neck.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he smiled against your skin.

“Really?” you asked, your tone sweet and high and completely foreign to you.

Joshua nodded, closing his eyes when he got the scent of your skin as his kisses travelled farther down your neck. “Did you really think that I was just playing?”

You pushed his shoulder with one hand, creating some distance to get a read on his face. “What?”

Joshua looked at you, and with one look, you swore that he saw through you. His dark eyes swam all over your face, but then steadied as he let out a breath slowly. “You heard me,” he said, his tone low.

Something sharp shot inside you. “Joshua, don’t—,”

“Don’t what?” he said, his hands steady on your waist. “Don’t say it? Is your game alright for you as long as I don’t say anything?” he read your face again, a smile tugging at his lips. “Or don’t say it because you don’t want to admit that you feel something too?”

Your heart pounded so hard you felt it in your head.

You sighed defeatedly, leaning your forehead against his. “This wasn’t part of the plan,” you whispered.

“Right,” he gritted, his voice weakening now. “Because this can’t be real as long as you command it.”

“It’s not real,” you swallowed. “We’re drunk, and have been flirting all night.”

“Maybe it’s just not real to you,” he whispered, easing his grip on your waist.

Your heart faltered, and you pulled back again to be met with his sullen expression. “Joshua–,”

“What are you so scared of?” he asked, his eyes reading your face over and over again.

“I’m not scared, I–,”

As soon as his hand came to cup your cheek, you choked on your words. He smiled, knowing that it was a game lost. “This can’t be real,” you swallowed hard again. “You’re my best friend. I can’t lose you if all this fails.”

“You prepare yourself for failure before you even give it a chance to happen,” he muttered, the hurt on his face vanishing once he felt your body ease on top of him, as though you were melting under his touch.

“I can’t help it,” you sighed, using your hands to cup his face, pressing your forehead against his.

“You can’t help it, or you just don’t want to?” he murmured, his honeyed tone purring in your ear.

“I don’t know how to do it,” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get rid of the nasty feeling coiling around your heart.

“Then let me help,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched. You only needed to say yes, to believe him. It all seemed so good to be true. Your best friend, the man that made you feel special, the most special you had ever felt to someone in your whole life.

But you only needed to listen to your body. It was as though you wanted to lean into his warmth and get lost in his eyes forever. It felt so safe to be close to him, to have his touch in your body.

So you just dipped your head in, pressing your lips on his.

“Yes?” he breathed.

“Yes,” you replied.

Because for the first time in forever, you wanted to.

Joshua kissed you harder, now forgetting about keeping his touch light. His lips moved seamlessly on yours, while keeping a hand on your waist and returning the other to cup your cheek.

His heart was pounding inside him, feeling elated as he paused for air. “Can I take this off?” he sighed, his tone raspy.

“Yes, please,” you replied with a breathy tone.

His hands moved the skirt of the nightgown up, touching your body freely as he got rid of the only piece of clothing aside from your panties that covered your beautiful skin. As his eyes skirted over the curves of your bare body, his mind spun, making him feel dizzy.

You grabbed his face, commanding his eyes on yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

You giggled, his words making your heart squeeze. “Thank you, Shua.”

“I meant what I said earlier,” he mumbled. “I’m lucky to be chosen by you.”

He didn’t give you time to say anything, because he was pushing your body on the mattress, climbing on top of you effortlessly.

You gasped. The smell of his skin, his hair, his warmth, everything invaded you. It was intoxicating. “Shua.”

Joshua gave you a hot kiss, one that told his aching need for you. It was passionate, and wet, his tongue swiftly rolled inside your mouth, making you moan into the kiss. “Can I eat you out?” he asked, his tone gruff and low.

“God, yes,” you replied with a soft sigh. “Please.”

“Mmn, you do have manners after all,” he quipped with a light smirk.

“Shut up,” you said, but couldn’t come up with a wittier retort.

And he noticed. With a laugh, he gave you another light kiss, using a hand to part your legs so he could slot himself in between them. “You’re a spoiled, prideful brat,” he sighed, kissing the apple of your cheek.

“You love me,” you retorted.

Joshua laughed, hearing the familiarity in your words. “I tolerate you.”

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you gasped exasperatedly.

Joshua complied silently, sinking down your body, peppering it with kisses as he reached your tits, his hands caressing your skin as he explored it carefully.

Your back tensed up. “Fuck,” you whispered to yourself when he wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, humming as his tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it softly. “Shua,” you called.

“Yeah?” he replied, lifting his head from your tits, looking at you adoringly again.

Your heart clenched, but you ran a hand through his hair. “Play later,” you pleaded.

“Foreplay is the best part of it,” he teased, giggling as you glared at him. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, tugging at your panties with his fingers.

You helped him get rid of your panties, lifting your hips off the mattress as his knuckles caressed your legs, making your skin prickle.

Joshua wasted no time, burying his head between your legs to pepper your inner thighs with wet kisses. The feeling was like no other, pleasure spiked between your legs, his lips touching your skin felt electrifying.

“Shua,” you pressured, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair.

He replied with a small smile, pressing a kiss on your pussy without removing his gaze from yours. You blinked repeatedly, letting out a small sound through your parted lips. “Do you like that?” he asked softly.

“Mm-huh,” you nodded with your head, catching the smirk on his face before he placed another kiss on your pussy lips.

Joshua slid the tip of his pointer finger between your pussy lips, shuddering when he felt the warmth and the arousal pooling in your entrance. “Stay still,” he whispered when your hips buckled slightly before you could command your body to a halt.

“Okay, okay,” you replied in kind, offering him a meek smile, your mouth dropping when he licked a stripe on your pussy lips, using his fingers to part them for his tongue, pushing it between your folds.

He enjoyed the loud sound of your gasp, your fingers slipping to grab his hair, following the motion of his head buried between your legs. “Joshua,” you moaned lewdly as he moved the middle and ring fingers that kept your pussy lips spread for his mouth, slipping them inside you. “Fuck!”

You realized that he wanted to pleasure you to reach your high quickly, his fingers thrusting inside you with a slow motion at first, exploring you, searching for what brought a louder reaction out of you.

The sound of your moans filled the room. Echoed by the smacking sounds of his mouth on your pussy as he continued making out with it, getting your clit to swell on his tongue and your walls to clamp around his fingers.

Instinctively, you curved your back, pushing your hips up, your cunt tightly pressed to his face. He groaned, sliding his free hand on your thigh, grabbing you tightly to keep you spread open for his mouth.

“Josh,” you called, your fingers threading his soft hair. “Please…” you whispered, but did not know what you were begging for. The tip of his tongue drew perfect circles around your clit, teasing it lovingly, his long fingers thrusting slowly inside you.

You could not see his face, but you were certain that Joshua smiled when you called him by that name. His amused hum told you that much. But then everything changed, the motion of his tongue switched, darting from side to side, his fingers curling in a perfect spot in your walls, now fucking you relentlessly.

You pushed your head back onto the pillows. “Fuck-k,” you gritted, swallowing hard. You could feel your orgasm, taste it as sweet pleasure brimmed inside you. A hand kept you in place, while the other was busy thrusting two fingers inside you, curling them to tease a sensitive spot in your walls.

“I’m cumming,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if Joshua had heard you at all. You arched your back on the bed, while tiny, strangled sounds came out of you. Your high hit you so hard that your mind went blank, all that you could focus on was his tongue on your clit, his fingers massaging inside you.

You eased back onto the bed, sighing and moaning, babbling incoherences as Joshua kissed and nipped at your inner thighs, giggling softly when your body twitched under him.

“Hey, you,” he whispered, climbing back on top of you, kissing your face.

You sighed tiredly, opening your eyes to see his face. “Hey, you,” you replied, wiping the wetness off his chin before kissing his lips. “That was amazing.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he whispered, responding to your every kiss with light lips. “Do you want more?”

You shook your head. “I need you,” you replied.

Joshua paused to read your face. “Sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, encircling his neck with your arms. Not liking the unsure look on his face, you added: “I’m on birth control, Shua.”

He had gone still, but only to consider what this meant for him. It had been so long since he’d felt something like this for someone, the adrenaline, the high of being so close to someone. As close as humanly possible.

“Okay,” he replied, kissing your lips once, then the tip of your nose as your hands search for the waistband his boxers.

Joshua helped your trembling hands get rid of his underwear, pushing it down to reveal his cock. He was fully hard, the rosy-brown tip of his cock leaking with precum. You rolled a hand on his thick and long shaft, feeling the veins tracing down from his cockhead to the base. “You’re big,” you sighed, giggling nervously.

He had nothing to reply, as soon as your hand came in contact with his body, he’d lost all sanity, all self-control flew out the window. He swallowed hard, feeling your hand squeeze around his shaft, rolling it on his cockhead and smearing precum all over his thick shaft.

He pressed his forehead to yours, placing his hands above your head, framing it as he lowered his hips on top of yours. “Play later, baby,” he said, his tone gruff and waning at the last word he uttered.

Your breath hitched. “Pet names,” you whispered.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he smirked, leaning to kiss you swiftly.

You did, you loved everything. Every single rule you set, and broke showed you just how much you loved it: being called names, kissing, touching, everything.

Joshua noticed that you had choked on your words too, and he smiled at you as he pressed his naked body on yours. You guided his cock between your folds, gasping slightly when you slipped his cockhead inside you and he just started pushing in, easing in himself slowly.

Your mouth parted, eyes watering instantly at the intrusion. But it felt so good, the stretch, the thickness of him, every single naked inch inside you. Your hands flew to grab at his shoulders, back tensing on the mattress, as you gasped again.

“Relax,” he whispered, kissing your cheek adoringly.

“Josh,” you called breathily, trying to tell him to continue, to never stop.

You heard him breathe fitfully once he sheathed himself completely. “You’re perfect,” he praised, burying his face on the crook of your neck, getting drunk on the smell of your hair.

He started moving his hips, thrusting his cock in and out with a steady pace. The sound of his ragged breaths was distracting, almost alluring to you. But Joshua rolled his hips on yours, his cock massaging your walls the same way his fingers had, eliciting a raw moan from you.

“You like that?” he whispered.

You could only reply with a nod.

“Okay,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your cheek, then your collarone, continuing to roll his hips in that same motion, the tip of his cock kissing a spot inside you that made you see stars, and your fingers curl.

“Fuck, Josh, please… don’t stop,” you pleaded with a breathy tone. And he was more than eager to please, only to hear you call out his name like that again, to feel your pussy clench around him.

The air was quickly filled with the sound of your moans, the tiny gasps that came out of you as Joshua fucked you the way that you wanted. His cock massaged your walls so deliriously good that you could feel yourself inching closer to your release.

“Fuck,” Joshua breathed, his lips caressing your earlobe. “Where do you want me, baby?”

Your thighs tensed up at his sides instantly. “Inside,” you gasped, tightening your grip on his shoulders. “Please cum inside me, Josh.”

Joshua gritted his teeth, letting out a strangled sound through them. The thought of spilling himself inside you might’ve sent him to a frenzy. All he could think of was filling you up, but he kept himself sane through the movement of his hips, getting you to your high before he reached his.

“Fuck, please, please,” he drawled lazily, muffling a moan in the crook of your neck.

You kissed his shoulder, moving your hands on his back as you let yourself go. You closed your eyes, letting out soft moans as a wave of sweet pleasure washed over you.

Then Joshua moved his hips faster, his fingers curling on the pillowcases, anchoring himself to them as he started plunging his cock in and out of you. He was quickly getting lost in the warmth of your pussy, the wetness, your smell, and the sweet sounds you made.

“You feel amazing,” he whispered, closing his eyes tightly, trying not to lose himself on you completely just yet. So he rolled on the bed, expertly shifting positions so you now sat on top of him, keeping you steady with his hand on your waist.

You understood immediately, using a hand to grab his cock, wet and glistening with your arousal and slipped it inside with a pleased moan. You tilted your head back, blissfully riding him with a steady pace of your hips on him.

Joshua saw your body bouncing softly on him—your head tilted back, your hands placed on your thighs, rolling your hips in a way that he got to see his cock slipping back inside your pussy. He swallowed a moan, closing his eyes briefly to not lose control too quickly.

But it was impossible. The room was flooded with the sounds of sex, your soft and whiny moans, the squelching sound of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy, his own strangled moans… it was getting harder and harder for him to hold onto sanity.

You placed a hand on the pillow, right beside his head, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on his chin, then on his lips. The sway of your hips paused briefly, making him groan, desperate for release.

You smiled at him. “I think I’d never seen you this quiet,” you pointed cheekily.

Joshua chuckled, lifting a hand from your waist and landing it on the side of your thigh with a firm spank.

You squeaked, hips buckling on top of him. “Fuck,” you choked out, closing your eyes tightly.

He moved his hands on your hips, guiding them in a way that he felt himself slipping in and out of your pussy again. “That’s it,” he crooned, looking at you bounce on his cock in the motion that he’d taught you. “Good girl.”

“Fuck,” you cried lewdly. “Josh!”

Joshua grinned, his hands following the movement of your hips on him as he tipped his head back on the pillow, spilling himself inside you with a series of raunchy moans. He looked at your face as you rode him until he was spent, and delirious with what you and he had just done.

You breathed raggedly, returning the smile as though you could hear his thoughts. You collapsed on the bed beside him, keeping an eye on the features of his face, which were masked by a stupor that had started to set in.

“So much for ground rules,” you sighed.

“Yeah,” Joshua drawled. Blinking lazily at you right before he reached for your hand with his, taking it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

You smiled softly at him, watching sleep claim him with every blinking of his eyes until he started to breathe deeply, finally asleep beside you. As the time went on, you debated whether returning to your bed or stay in his. What finally made the decision for you, was Joshua’s arms wrapping you into a hug.

So you stayed, sleeping blissfully in his embrace.

epilogue

It had been a while since someone truly saw him for who he was. A friend, a warm person you can talk to, trustworthy. It felt like his true self was buried underneath the burden of shame, the ickiness of being looked at and think that he had been somebody’s fool.

Joshua brought his fist and knocked on your apartment door, once, twice. Waited.

His stomach clenched at the sound of the front door of your apartment click, and then open. Slowly, you stepped out, curiously looking up at him. “Hey, you,” you said sweetly, leaning against the doorframe.

Joshua smiled at you, feeling his body relax at once. “Hey, you,” he said, nervously approaching towards you. “Can we talk?”

You read his face before nodding. “Sure,” you replied, letting him in.

It had been a while since you had let someone see you for who you were. But it was something you had to have seen it coming. Joshua was after all, the person who knew you best. And you were more than ready to see where your story with him would go.

› author's note: this felt like city lights in so many levels omg. i loved writing this. if there are mistakes, it's because i wrote about 7k words of this fic in one day lol

toodles!

READ MORE | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

#lonelyheartscafecollab #joshua hong smut #svt smut #svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #ksmutsociety #kvanity #hannieween #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong fanfic #seventeen imagines #joshua hong fluff #joshua hong x you #joshua hong imagines

779 notes · View notes

moonlightrafe · 9 months ago

Text

Bad Idea, Right?

summary: A night of drinking with your friends lands you at your ex boyfriend’s apartment — which is ultimately a bad idea.

pairing: Modern!Aemond x Ex girlfriend!Reader

word count: 3k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, angst, brief mention of drug use, language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, creampie, Aemond is a fuckboy. 18+ MDNI

note: idk how I feel about this but Modern!Aemond is my weakness, and the grwm of Ewan ruined my life. Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to send me requests!

If someone were to ask you your own personal example of girlhood your answer would be simple: getting ready for a night out with your girlfriends. While going out and partying with your friends was fun, you considered the act of getting ready together art in itself.

It was tradition, a ritual. Filled with laughter, inside jokes, excitement, and anticipation.

Glitter, hairspray, memories. It was your time to bond and let go of everyday stress.

And that’s where you found yourself right now: sat in front of your best friend’s vanity, large curlers in your hair. The sweet smell of vanilla coming from Rhaena’s birthday cake scented candle filling the room.

Six months had passed since your breakup with Aemond and the twins had declared that you had spent more than enough time moping. It was time to get you back out in the world.

“I’m so happy that us girls are going out tonight,” Baela said as she finished up applying her mascara.

You involuntarily scoffed at her comment.

“What?” She questioned, glaring at you.

“It’s not like it’s just us,” you say matter of factly.

“Oh, come on! You know Jace is basically one of us!”

She wasn’t wrong. If you had to pick a guy to be in your friend group, it would be Jace Velaryon. He was easy to talk to, kind, considerate. A breath of fresh air from what you were used to. You understood why Baela was into him. Plus, he donned a beautiful set of chocolate colored curls matched with an adorable, toothy, grin.

“Do not beat around the bush, Bae!” You admonished, “I know Cregan will be there too.”

Cregan Stark was Jace’s best friend. A rugged guy from the North. He had a thick beard and piercing gray-blue eyes. He had quiet confidence, basically a big teddy bear. There was no denying he was rather handsome. It’s not that you would be opposed to sleeping with him, per say, you just weren’t sure if you were ready yet; although Baela begged to differ.

Once the three of you were all ready to go and the Uber was on it’s way, Baela pulled you to the side.

“Look,” she began, holding each of your hands in hers, “I know you're nervous. You’ve been through a lot and it can be hard to put yourself back out there — but you deserve this. Aemond’s out living his life, you have to live yours! It’s going to be fine! You look incredible, we are going to have a great time.”

Baela, as usual, was right. You were enjoying yourself. You were now on your third drink, tapping your finger nails on the glass as you half heartedly listened to Cregan tell an embarrassing story about Jace from when the two of them were in high school when you felt your phone vibrate.

A text from an unknown number flashed against your screen, paying no mind to it you opened it immediately. Your stomach dropped.

Hey… it’s Aemond.

You swore that men had some kind of radar that would let them know when a woman was finally happy without them. When that radar went off, only then was it that they decided to try to contact you again. Not during the months where your heart was left in ruin, not when you would do anything for answers. Only once you were healing, on the brink of reaching that light at the end of the tunnel; they weaseled their way into your life once more to ruin everything — and Aemond was right on schedule.

It had been months since he last contacted you, you felt as though your stomach was gonna fall out, your nervous system in a frenzy.

You could not let him ruin your fun.

“Let’s take a shot of something,” you suggested.

And then your phone buzzed again.

I know it’s been awhile, but I wanted to see how you’re doing?

Been awhile? That’s the understatement of the year. He didn’t care how you were doing when he broke up with you over a text. He didn’t care when the rumor of him sleeping with a professor spread around campus, humiliating you.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Relief washed over you once you saw Baela return with 5 shots of Tequila in hand.

“Heard this makes your clothes come off,” she said as she handed you the shot glass, shooting a wink over to Cregan. You downed the shot quickly, ignoring her comment. The liquid burned down your throat as it settled into your stomach.

Slamming the shot glass onto the table, your head spun and you could’ve sworn you felt your phone vibrate again. You needed air.

“I’ll be right back, I need a cigarette.”

“I’ll come with you!” Rhaena chirped.

“No!” You shouted, almost too enthusiastically.

“No, that’s okay. I know you hate the smell of smoke, Rhae. I’ll just be a minute.”

With that, you frantically made your way to the patio of the bar. Just as you lit your cigarette a familiar voice called out to you.

“Ohhh shit! I knew that was you!”

Now you were sure that the universe was certainly conspiring against you. It was none other than Aegon Targaryen. Aemond’s drunken, perverted, older brother. Wonderful.

Turning on your heel abruptly and puffing smoke out of your nostrils you gave him a reluctant wave.

“Hi, Aeg.”

“How are you?” He asked, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “how have you been?”

Not sure if it was the liquid courage or the need for someone else to witness the audacity of your ex, but you just shoved your phone into his chest, eyes glued to him as he scrolled through the messages with his eyebrows raised.

“Damn, I never would have thought Aemond to be the type to beg!” he laughed as you shot him a look of disapproval.

“Listen,” he said before taking a long drag of his own cigarette, “Aemond means well. He was pretty shaken up after you guys broke up.”

Yeah, right. What was there for him to be shaken up about? He broke up with you.

“And if you ask me,” he continued through puffs of his cigarette, “you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Isn’t he seeing someone like, twice our age?”

“Not anymore.”

A pregnant pause filled the air between the two of you as he handed you your phone back.

The conversation was becoming awkward, so Aegon tried to comfort you the only way he knew how.

“I know you’re stressed and all… do you, uhhh, want a bump?”

His question took you by surprise.

“A bump? Um, I’m good, Aeg.. thanks.”

The blonde lifted his hands up in defeat.

“Good call, if you do go see Aemond, I doubt he would be happy about that.”

“I’m not going to see Aemond,” you answer flatly, hitting his arm lightly.

“Well, whatever or whoever you decide to do tonight I wish you luck!” he smirked, “but, I know our mom would be thrilled if you started to come around again.”

“She misses me?” you blurted out, the desperation clear in your voice.

“Yeah,” Aegon shrugged, “we all do.” He smiled as his large palm patted against your back before he made his way back inside the bar.

You stood in silence as you finished your cigarette, unsure of what to do when you received yet another text from Aemond. You responded with the first thing that came to your mind.

Have you been drinking?

No. Come over. I want to see you.

Your phone buzzed again, but this time it was a picture. A photo of his cat Vhagar. The elderly feline was sprawled out across his leather couch, the caption reading: “she misses you too.”

She did not. She only ever liked Aemond.

Well, I’ve been drinking so… can’t drive.

Where are you? I’ll come get you.

No. He couldn’t. You couldn’t risk Baela seeing, she would kill you.

Nah. That’s okay.

God, this conversation was going nowhere. Why were you entertaining him anyway?

Let me get you an Uber.

Buzz.

Please.

Gods, he was pushy.

Fine 🫠

Once you found yourself back inside the bar, you decided to use that last shot of tequila as your reason to leave. You had said something along the lines of the mixture of liquors wasn’t agreeing with you and that you were gonna head out. The girls were disappointed, but they understood. Baela’s only condition is that you were sure to text her once you were home safe. You bid Jace and Cregan goodbye, and even agreed to go out for drinks with them again in the upcoming week.

As you sat in the backseat of the Uber, your palms filled with sweat and your heart raced as you made your way to the other side of the city to Aemond’s new apartment. You couldn’t help but feel nervous, wondering how he might react and if this was the right decision. Your mind raced with thoughts and emotions, but you tried to stay composed as you you pulled up to the building.

Aemond was waiting outside the apartment complex for you. His expression was unreadable as he puffed on the last few drags of a cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground and stomping it out so he could make his way over to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, offering a shy smile before extending his arms out to hug you. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

His scent alone was intoxicating. A mixture of nicotine, spearmint toothpaste and musky cologne. Being in his embrace again had your head spinning, you felt as if your heart was going to beat out of your chest. It was almost as if the two of you never parted ways, like he never left. Damn him, you thought to yourself .

“Well, this is my new place,” he said as he opened the door to the lavish apartment. It was absolutely was stunning. Beautiful, mahogany cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The living room was spacious with high ceilings and a giant window that had an incredible view of the city. It was very Aemond-esque. It felt familiar, safe.

You spotted Vhagar on the dark green velvet couch in the center of the room.

You watched carefully as one of her eyes opened, she rose from her spot almost instantly once she spotted you. Making a beeline to Aemond’s bedroom.

“I thought you said she missed me?” you asked playfully.

"I may have lied," Aemond replied, giving you a shy smile.

An hour had gone by and you had spent the majority of it arguing with Aemond about your past. You listened to him attempt to apologize, explaining that it wasn’t you, it was him. He made a mistake, he’s changed. You weren’t having it, and yet, in the midst of it all, you had found yourself sitting so close to him you were almost on top of him. Mid sentence he had crashed his lips against yours. A rude interruption, for sure — but now, all bets were off.

The kiss was rough and intoxicating, a clash of teeth and tongue. He grazed your bottom lip with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. Your head spun.

"More," you whispered against his lips, "I need more of you."

Aemond took no time to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom, as he placed you down on his bed gently. You feel his hands tearing off your clothes, striping you down to your underwear. Your heart raced with anticipation and desire. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. He lowered himself on top of you, reaching his arm up over his shoulder to remove his own shirt.

As he leant back down over you, his tongue trailed from your chin to your lips. A soft moan escaped your throat as he sucked on your lips, taking control of the kiss.

Arousal stirred inside you as he nipped down at your neck, licking and sucking until you arched your back under him, desperate for his touch.

“Missed me baby?” he teased, “because I sure missed you”, his violet eye scanned over your body, blown with lust as he made his way down. His slim fingers ghosted along your stomach, then gripped harshly onto the meaty flesh of your thigh. Your legs parted, letting him know what you wanted. He didn't hesitate, pulling your underwear off with one swoop. Leaving you completely bare in front of him.

“I missed this pretty little pussy too, fuck,” he groaned before biting at your thighs just before lowering his head between them, licking a stripe up your slit. You bucked under him, pushing him harder against you, driving his face deeper into your center.

A low groan left your throat, his name falling from your lips as you tugged at his silver hair and held his face against you. His tongue circled around your clit, the small bud swollen from his attentions. His fingers found their way inside you, exploring your cunt.

His thumb replaced his tongue on your clit as he rubbed harsh figure eights against you. He continued to rub your clit harder. Your breathing quickened, and your body legs began to shake.

"Oh, there’s my girl. You gonna cum for me?"

The combination of his words and a few more thrusts of his fingers made your mind go completely blank. Your ears rang, your vision blurred so much you had to squeeze your eyes shut, eventually seeing stars. Aemond finger fucked you through your orgasm as you soaked his hand.

You laid there for a moment, total blackness surrounding you until your Aemond’s calm voice brought you back to reality.

“Holy shit. You good baby?”

You nodded your head eagerly at him, “More than okay.”

After giving you some more time to come down from your first orgasm, Aemond crawled on top of you, as he began to slowly drag his cock between your already swollen folds, swirling the tip in your wetness; almost pushing in, but not quite.

“Aem,” you moaned, “please, I need to feel you. All of you .”

“Still so needy, hm?” He teased as he buried his cock inside you to the hilt. You winced at the length of him.

“Littleeee bit of a stretch baby,” he said as he let you adjust to his size, “there we go.”

"Oh.. Gods," you moaned. You forgot just how big Aemond was. The stretch was almost unbearable and yet, you craved more. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you.

He began to rock back and forth into you, pumping his cock in and out. The louder you moaned, the harder he pounded into you. Eventually, the head of his cock pressed against your cervix.

"Please, please don't stop," you begged. He began to pound into you harder and faster, the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room. You felt your second orgasm of the night building inside of you as he continued to fuck you.

"Oh, Gods! Aemond, please, you’re going to make me cum again,” you babbled as your orgasm ripped through you once more. Your cunt clenched around his length as the tip of his cock bullied the spongy spot inside you without mercy.

Your slick coated walls contracting around him was all it took for him to lose control. He let out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside you, filling you with his seed as he bit down hard on your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned as the aftermath of his own orgasm coursed through him, his cock still twitching inside of you. After placing a wet kiss on your cheek he positioned himself upright, placing a hand flat on the headboard behind you to help keep balance, he slowly pulled his cock out of you. You winced at the emptiness, a pool of warmth leaking out of your cunt and onto the bed sheets.

“Oh, shit. Here, let me help clean you up.”

As you came down from your high, you also came to your senses. No. Him cleaning you up would be too intimate of an act — as if he wasn’t just buried inside of you.

“No, Aem. It’s fine, I need to go to the bathroom anyway.”

He shrugged, “there are washcloths under the sink if you need one.”

Your heart sank as the bathroom door shut. A red lacy bra, that definitely didn’t belong to you was slung over the door handle. Memories of your past relationship came flooding back, along with feelings of sadness and regret. You couldn’t help but wonder who the bra belongs to, your first thought was that older professor. It's a painful reminder that not only had Aemond had not changed at all, he also just took advantage of you.

This was definitely a bad idea.

2K notes · View notes

shellshocklove · 1 year ago

Text

wet nights | joel miller

pairing/AU: bfd!joel miller x female!reader – no outbreak

summary: getting beer spilled down your dress at your best friend sarah’s birthday party might not have been so bad– not when her dad can help you clean up.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 25 and joel is 47, reader is described as wearing a dress, swearing, use of pet names, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, exhibitionism, praise with a dash of degradation kink, one small touch of your clit, soft dom!joel, use of sir, cum play, no use of y/n

a/n: mom said it was my turn to write bfd!joel lol. basically this is just me wanting to write joel getting his cock and balls sucked bc it's what he deserves 😌 as always thank you to @dustydaddyyy for reading through this for me! and happy reading <3

main masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

Nodding your head to the beat of the music you gulped down a cooling sip of beer. The bar was stuffed to the brim tonight for Sarah’s birthday. Every chair and booth occupied, large groups huddled together against the walls, and a growing crowd of brave, seemingly deep enough down their drinks, dancers moved across the makeshift dance floor. Leaning against the bar right at the end, you were shielded from the continuous line of people looking for a drink to sate their thirst on this hot summer night.

You’d missed Sarah since graduation. She’d moved back to Austin to be closer to her father – a man you had still to meet even after all these years of knowing Sarah. You’d met in undergrad where you’d had a couple of overlapping classes the first year. She’d been one of those people where you’d just clicked, like a hand in a glove, you two just fit together.

Now you had moved to Austin. It wasn’t exactly planned, but you’d applied to a postgraduate program at the University of Texas, not necessarily thinking you’d get in– but then you had. Sarah had been ecstatic when you’d told her. You hadn’t seen her in person in over a year, but you couldn’t wait to live in the same city as your best friend again.

But first, her 25th birthday party.

Tonight would be your first night out as a new Austinite. Sarah had invited all her closest friends and family to her favorite bar to celebrate. You’d dreaded it a little, you weren’t gonna lie. That nagging anxiety had bubbled under your skin all week at the prospect of being the only one at the party who didn’t know anyone already. Sarah had told you not to worry though when you’d voiced your concern to her a few days ago – she’d introduce you to everyone – nothing to worry about, and she’d been right.

All Sarah’s friends had been extremely friendly and nice, and you’d been taken under their wing immediately. Quickly, your anxiety had melted away, condensing into nothing as you’d started to have a good time.

It was deep into the summer, and Austin had shown itself from its hotter side the last few days. Inside the bar everything ran hot, even with the AC on blast and with the amount of people who’d made their way inside in the last hour, looking for a good time on a Saturday night, it never stood a chance.

Trying to cool off you’d excused yourself from your new group of friends to order yourself a cold beer. One of the ACs blew cold air directly towards the bar, keeping the frantic bartenders cool as they pushed out order after order of drinks. You watched them from where you stood perfectly in the wind of the AC, glass raised to your lips when you felt a hard bump against your shoulder.

“Fuck,” you cursed as your full glass of beer spilled all down your front, staining your white summer dress.

“Shit– sorry, sweetheart.” You didn’t have time to react as your beer was lifted out of your wet hand and placed on the rough wood of the bar.

Looking up from your ruined dress you took in your beer thief as he reached across the bar for some napkins. He was older, forties maybe, maybe older if you were to take the sprinkle of salt and pepper in his hair into consideration, but he was gorgeous. A strong jaw and sculptured nose. Clad in a t-shirt and a dark pair of jeans, you thought he looked casual– not like he belonged to the rest of the birthday party. The material of his t-shirt strained against his bicep as he leaned back from over the bar – a stack of napkins now in his hand. Standing to his full height before you, you noticed just how broad he was, and it made a drop of desire pool in your core.

The man’s previous frantic movements came to a halt as he took you in for the first time; his dark brown eyes rolling down your body and leaving a trail of heat. His fist full of napkins stalled when his eyes landed on your dress, quickly diverting them with a loud clearing of his throat.

“Um– here,” he said, voice strained as he handed you the napkins.

Pulling your eyebrows together in a frown, you looked down at yourself again. The fabric was completely soaked through, and you felt a prickling heat tickle your cheeks as you realized you now looked like a walking ad for a wet t-shirt competition.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, taking the napkins from the man as you tried your best to cover yourself.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart– bumpin’ into ya like that.”

Pressing the napkins to your dress you shook your head at him, “It’s fine– eh,” you looked up from your body.

“Joel,” he introduced himself.

“It’s fine, Joel. It was an accident. I’ll just go to the restroom and try to get the stain out,” you said with a grimace, and reached for more napkins.

“Let me help ya,” he offered as he placed a friendly hand on your elbow.

As Joel guided you through the crowd towards the toilets, hand hovering at a polite distance behind your back, he continued to apologize.

“I feel terrible– let me at least pay for it if it ends up needin’ replacin’.”

Inside the bar’s toilets, you jumped up on the stone countertop lining the wall, turning the closest sink on.

“It’s okay,” you repeated as you busied yourself with trying to clean yourself up, “This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten beer spilled all over me,” you said with a teasing laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Standing beside you with his hip leaning against the stone and a knee popped, Joel huffed out a strained laugh, a laugh somewhere between embarrassment and relief.

“Yeah?” He questioned, eyes falling to your working hands.

“Tell you this much– I’ve had plenty of wet nights.”

A sound escaped Joel at your words, one he quickly tried to cover up with a cough, and you realize your innuendo a second too late. When you looked up from your hands, eyes wide, you noticed that Joel’s cheeks had flushed slightly, like he was embarrassed that he’d even caught onto the innuendo you hadn’t meant to make.

“Oh! No, not like that–” you rushed, tone slightly mortified as your eyes met his, trying very hard not to stutter through the rest of your sentence, “I–uh... I only meant that I uh–... I‘ve had plenty of situations in which I’ve gotten wet–”

At this sentence, Joel raised his eyebrows in a look that seemed half-surprised, half-amused, and your stomach dropped even further into your ass in embarrassment.

“–with water!” you clarified quickly, before you scrunched up your nose in embarrassment, closing your eyes as you huffed out a laughing sigh, “There’s no way I’m getting out of this gracefully, is there?”

You heard Joel’s chuckle to your side, deep and syrupy, like the stuff you’d liked to pour over your pancakes in buckets when you were a kid.

“You’d have gotten away with it if you hadn’t started explainin’, I think,” Joel told you, his tone joking, and you chuckled bashfully, nodding before you looked up at him.

There was a moment in which you exchanged a look, before you felt the smile break over your face and you dissolved into embarrassed laughter, shaking your head as Joel laughed, too.

“Off to a great start,” you muttered in between chuckles, “First week in Austin and I’m already making passes at handsome strangers in bar bathrooms.”

“I never said I was complainin’,” Joel said jokingly, and you let out a chuckle, “First week in Austin, hm?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod, “Here for a postgrad.”

“Smart and beautiful,” he mused, “Reckon I should spill beers more often if this is what I get in return.”

Delicate wings fluttered in your tummy at his words as a feeling of excitement filled your chest. Looking up at him with a raised teasing eyebrow you said, “Not sure spilling beer on someone is the tried and tested formula.”

“Well, that depends, really,” Joel answered back in a teasingly contemplating voice, “‘s it workin’ on you?”

Your stomach dropped slightly at his words, and when your eyes moved to meet his, he was looking at you with a look that made your insides burn.

“Maybe,” you told him with a teasing smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

You were never usually this bold, but there was something in the way he was looking at you and the syrup-y tone of his voice. You could tell he knew what he was doing, knew exactly what to say, and you wanted more. Biting down on your bottom lip coquettishly, you leaned backwards on your arms, giving Joel a full view of the soaked front of your dress, and more specifically, everything he could see underneath.

“And what works on you, Joel?”

You watched with some satisfaction as Joel's eyes ran over the length of your chest, before he quickly redirected them to your eyes.

“You’re making it very hard to be a gentleman here, sweetheart,” he almost whispered, his eyes as dark as the Austin summer night sky. You gave a noncommitted shrug as a teasing smile tugged at your lips. Then, you leaned forward so that you were closer to him, feet dangling slightly.

“I never asked you to be,” you told him, your voice low but not quite a whisper as you looked up at him through your lashes.

Behind your rib cage your heart quickened with excitement as Joel’s darkening gaze bored into yours, and you knew you him right where you wanted him. His eyes danced over your face for a moment, before they flickered down to your lips. It almost made you stop breathing for a second, the tension in the air between you so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was just something about this man, something about Joel – and in this moment you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone before.

Maybe it should’ve scared you, the speed at which you’d fallen under his spell (or was it the other way around?), but right now, with Joel’s darkening eyes staring into yours, you couldn't bring yourself to feel any fear. You could only look at him, could only feel his breath fanning over your lips and the intensity of his gaze on your face.

“You’re trouble, aren’t ya?” Joel’s voice was low, not quite a whisper, but full of deep bass.

You felt the expanse of his hand fall on your bare knee, rough and calloused over where your sundress had ridden up.

“Nothing you can’t handle.” You batted your eyelashes semi-innocently, spreading your thighs slightly, which made Joel’s mouth twitch in amusement.

“’s that so, darlin’?” He asked, taking his place between your legs, your face now only inches from his as he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Mhm,” you nodded slightly, your hand falling over his to guide it slowly up your thigh, “Don’t you wanna find out?”

As Joel’s index finger made contact with the side seam of your underwear, he closed the space between you and pressed his lips against yours. The hairs of his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow as he dove deeper, lips rolling over yours. You sat up slightly when his other hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your core rubbing up against his growing bulge. You whimpered against his lips at the contact, and Joel inhaled it, consuming every breathy moan and whimper.

His hand slid slowly downwards to your ass where he gave it a nice squeeze, pulling you even closer when your legs came up to wrap around his waist. He licked at your lower lip hungrily, and you opened yourself up to him to allow him to deepen the kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. He was a great kisser, probably the best you’d kissed. His lips moved expertly over yours, soft and firm at the same time as he guided you through it.

The grip on your ass tightened again and soon you were half-way to hanging off the counter as he rocked his front steadily against your core, where your arousal had started to pool. The kisses turned needier then, shorter and desperate between quiet whines. You could feel the shape of him against you, hard and thick, and big. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you as you imagined yourself on your knees before him, the weight and taste of him on your tongue. He was so fucking hot, and you wanted him so fucking badly.

“Can I suck your cock?” you panted through frantic kisses.

Joel pulled back slightly, head tipped back to find your eyes.

“You wanna suck my cock?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. You only nodded, head tipping slowly with the bite of your lip.

Joel tsk-ed, “Dirty girl,” he said and rocked his hard bulge against your core, which earned him a moan. It made a wicked grin spread across his face, like he’d just proved a point.

His hands left your body as he slowly stepped backwards – that same cocky grin adorning his features as he nodded towards one of the stalls. Jumping off the countertop, you almost tripped over your feet to follow him inside.

“Relax, baby– ain’t no need to get on your knees until after we’re inside,” he teased, holding the door open for you, bicep bulging against the fabric of his t-shirt. Fuck, he looked so hot.

“Ha-ha,” you fake-laughed at him with a teasing roll of your eyes as you stepped past him and into the bathroom stall. When the door clicked behind him, followed by the unmistakable sound of the lock turning, you felt a pair of strong hands land on your hips as he pressed his body against your back.

“I’m only teasin’,” he reassured you in your ear, his breath fanning over the shell and sending a tingle down your spine. Turning around in his hold, your own teasing smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah?” you queried with the raise of an eyebrow, “Well two can play that game, sir” you teased as you slowly sunk to your knees, missing the way Joel reacted to the title you’d assigned him.

From above Joel watched you, body relaxed and composed like he wasn’t about to get his dick sucked, but the lust in his eyes gave him away. Your teeth caught on your bottom lip as you fumbled with his belt, the sound of metal clinking bouncing off the tiles as you focused on popping the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. You couldn’t take your eyes off the shape of him hidden behind the denim, and it made your mouth water, your thighs squeezing together. You were mesmerized as you let your pointer finger run over the covered length of him, the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs soft under your fingertips.

For a moment, you couldn’t believe what you were about to do – suck a man you’d just met less than an hour ago off in the bathroom stall of some dingy bar? But then again, something excited you about it.

Maybe it was Joel? Or maybe it was the thrill of it all– of maybe getting caught?

“Go on, darlin’, it’s okay– be a good girl n’ take it out f’me,” Joel ordered from above, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, caught the way he studied you, gauging your every move and reaction.

Then something shifted in his eyes, a flash of insecurity making its presence known, “Or don’t– we can stop f’you want– if you ain’t feelin’ it anymore.”

You shook your head before he’d even finished his sentence. God, no! You sure as hell didn’t want to stop.

“I wanna keep going, Joel,” you smiled, your fingers hooking into the elastic band of his boxer briefs.

A genuine smile bloomed across his face then, his rough hand coming down to cup your chin, “That’s good, baby,” he said, swiping his thumb slowly over your skin, before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Know you’ll be good f’me, won’t you?” he whispered against your lips, drawing a breathy whine from you at the praise.

“Yes,” you sighed, almost breathless as he kissed you again quickly before he murmured against your lips, “Yes, you will, darlin’– you’re gonna choke on my cock ‘n thank me for it, won’t ya?”

He was driving you mad with all these questions. In just a few minutes, this man had turned you inside out, pushed every button to turn you on– you were practically swimming in your panties, your mind clouded in hazy arousal.

You didn’t know what to do, and not thinking clearly, you chased his lips.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel chuckled, pulling away slightly, “lemme hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you sighed again, “thank you for giving me your cock.”

“Thank you for giving me your cock, what?”

This manwas relentless.

“Thank you for giving me your cock, sir?” you tried, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

Pleased, a satisfied grin pulled at Joel’s lips. He rewarded you with a quick kiss before he pulled away, standing to his full height again.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to touch him. Hooking your fingers into the elastic band of his boxer briefs again, you slowly pulled them down, revealing inch by inch of the base of his fat cock.

He was big, and the sight made your mouth water, but what excited you the most was the weight of his heavy balls.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes wide with fascination.

His hand found the back of your neck in a grounding hold as he guided you closer, your lips bumping against his tip. “Give it a kiss, baby… just like that,” he praised as you did exactly what he wanted, placing a kiss to his cock the same way you’d kissed his lips.

Over you, you could hear Joel release a content breathy chuckle, “That’s so good, baby, such a good girl.”

Egged on by his praises, you shifted a little on your knees, steadying your hands on his thighs as you pooled a blob of spit in your mouth that you let drip down the head. Joel watched you intensely as you used your dominant hand to slowly work the spit over his length, earning yourself a strained grunt. He grew even harder in your hand as you familiarized yourself with the weight and size of him in your hand.

“Wanna taste it, sir,” you said and placed another soft kiss to the head, swiping your tongue over the slit to taste the precum that had started to pearl.

“Yeah?” he taunted, almost degrading, “You wanna taste my cock that badly?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, looking up at him through your lashes.

Joel watched you for a beat before he tapped at the hand wrapped around him, shooing it away as he fisted himself. “Open wide then, honey, ‘f you want it that bad,” he said, slapping his cock against the side of your face.

Your mouth dropped open in an instance as Joel stuffed his cock inside your mouth slowly. You opened up as wide as you possibly could, relaxing your jaw to accommodate the size of him in your mouth. It was a wide stretch, and the tip touched the back of your throat far too soon, making you gag around the head.

He pulled back to let you breathe for a moment, before he sunk back down your throat again, a large and grounding hand resting at the back of your head. The second time you were more prepared to take him, holding him in your throat for a few moments longer before you started to gag. Over you, Joel let out a strained grunt; the noise sending a bolt of arousal straight to your core.

After that, Joel let you take the lead.

You started out slow, taking the head into your mouth as you let your spit-covered fingers glide over his shaft in an experimental tug. Under your fist, a slick sound echoed off the tiles with every jerk of his cock. You made sure his cock was thoroughly coated in your spit as you set a steady rhythm. You let your tongue glide over the underside of his tip, his hips bucking when you dipped your tongue into the slit.

It was sloppy, and wet, and the noises coming from your throat were entirely too obscene as you started bobbing your head, taking him down your throat.

“That’s a good girl,” Joel praised you, helping guide his cock down your throat with the hand resting at the back of your head. “You love suckin’ cock, don’t you? Love havin’ a big cock fill up that tight throat?”

Suddenly, you heard the muted music coming from the bar grow louder before dying again at the sound of the door slamming shut. You stilled your movements in panic as you heard someone slip into the stall to your right. Your eyes met Joel as you slipped his cock out your mouth, but to your surprise he looked far from concerned about the new audience.

Stretching his neck he turned his head in the direction of the occupied stall, while he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock. Even in his hands it looked big, and you started to wonder how you’d ever managed to fit it down your throat. A beat passed before he turned his head to look at you again, a wicked grin coating his lips as he bobbed his cock in your face, rubbing the head over your closed lips before he slapped it lightly against your cheek.

“Open up,” he mouthed with another light slap to your cheek. His actions made a tingle of arousal spread throughout your body, and you realized in shock how much the thought of getting caught turned you on.

You did as Joel said and opened your mouth for him to feed you his cock again. He watched you very closely this time, letting you ease yourself down his cock at your own pace, trying your best to be quiet. When the very tip of your nose made contact with the thatch of coarse dark hair at the base and your lips were snug around his cock, Joel couldn’t help himself. The grounding hand at the back of your head held you down as he shoved himself as deep as he possibly could down your throat, his balls bouncing against your chin at the movement.

To your right you heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet being flushed and a lock being twisted. Your eyes welled up with tears, your vision fogging over as you tried your best to fight against your gag reflex. Over you, Joel watched you with a proud smirk on his lips. When the sound of the sink turning on echoed through the restroom, you allowed a whimpering gag to escape you as you squeezed your eyes shut.

It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did, but the thrill of getting caught choking on an older man’s cock, a man who was essentially a stranger, made you wonder if you could come untouched. You were so close already, just a flick of your clit would send you off the edge of bliss.

Your eyes were about to roll back into your head when Joel finally pulled back. You gasped violently for air at the exact moment the door opened, filling the toilets with loud music for a moment before you and Joel were locked away again in your own little world. Like you were on autopilot, your hand slipped between your thighs to find your clit, and soon you were withering with your orgasm.

“Oh, there you go, honey, come all over those fingers f’me, just like that,” you heard Joel say, though the force of your orgasm made it seem like he was far away, like your ears were filled with cotton.

When you finally calmed down, you steadied yourself with a tug at Joel’s jeans – the fabric rough under your fingertips. Over you Joel fisted his cock as he watched you with a wild look in his eyes.

“Goddamn, baby, you’re so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that just from gettin’ your throat fucked.”

“Thank you, sir,” you managed to let out, your voice strained and hoarse.

Realizing he must’ve been close, you sat up straighter on your knees, ready to pull him off the edge too. Leaning forward, you stuck out your tongue, licking a fat strip up the seam of his balls to the underside of his shaft. His cock jumped in his hand as Joel let out a breathy laugh.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, “Look me in the eyes honey– look me in the eyes when you lick my balls.” Joel jerked his cock above your face as you continued to lick at his heavy balls – your eyes locked with his.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he choked out through groans, “Suck on ‘em, baby, suck on my balls.”

Blinking up at him you tried your best to fit one of them in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking greedily and lapping at the skin, before you moved on to treat the other with the same amount of love.

Joel’s mouth dropped open in a gape, his breath coming out quicker and more staggered. He squeezed himself harder at the base with each jerk before skating his thumb over the swollen head, massaging it.

“Fuck,” he panted, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna fuckin’ come.”

Popping his balls from your mouth you hurriedly sat up in front of him, the tip off his cock brushing over the plump of your bottom lip with every thug of his cock.

“Please, sir,” you begged, “Please, come in my mouth.”

Joel wasn’t one to deny your request, especially not when you were sat so pretty in front of him with your tongue sticking out.

A second later, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth and came – balls drawn tight as he shot his load down your throat. The force of it made you gag a little at first, the restriction around his sensitive cock only making him come harder. He groaned above you as you sucked him dry, before he pulled back when it was too much, and caught his breath.

“Say Ah,” he said, a gentle but firm hand cupping your jaw. The squeeze of his fingers made your mouth drop open to reveal the cum coated on your tongue and where it pooled at the back of your throat. “Don’t swallow– Let me see, darlin’.”

Your smile fought against his grip. Sticking your tongue out the best you could, you let him see the state he’d left you in; chin coated in saliva, tears starting to dry on your cheeks, mouth puffy and fucked, and marked in this stranger’s cum.

“Pretty as a picture,” he tutted before he let go of your jaw, and with a pat to your cheek finally gave you permission to swallow.

After that it was like the spell had broken between you. Joel helped you to your feet, both of you giggling when your legs wobbled like a foal unsteady on its feet. He held you upright with a strong hand to your waist, while the other one traveled up the length of your body to cup your face, and bring it closer to place a slow and sensual kiss to your lips.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’d never done anything like that before?” You asked him a moment later as he helped you clean your face by the sink.

Joel gave you a look in the mirror.

“You don’t?” you exclaimed.

Joel gave you an infuriatingly casual shrug, “It ain’t your first time suckin’ dick that’s for sure,” he teased with a pinch to your side which made you jump.

Giving him a playful shove, you said, “I’m not lying! I’ve never had a one-night stand.”

“Well, the night’s still young,” Joel joked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and dipping his head to place a soft kiss to the column of your neck.

You leaned into his touch, feeling the soft grip of his hands on your body, and the soft presses of his kisses as you watched the two of you in the mirror. You found that you liked the reflection looking back at you, and if you were lucky, you hoped he liked it too; maybe enough to want to see you again.

“I can’t go back out there like this,” you said after a moment.

Your dress had finally dried, but so had the beer – staining it yellow.

Joel lifted his head from your neck to rest his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scanned your body in the mirror.

“I have a flannel in my truck I can borrow you?”

“More layers in this heat?” you questioned, already sweating at the thought.

A wide grin spread across Joel’s face, full of mischief, “I guess I’ll just have to take ‘em off of you later, then.”

Turning around in his hold, you wrapped your hands around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair curling at his neck as you met his eyes. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” you whispered, painfully aware of the wet stain of arousal soiling your panties and sticking to your cunt.

“No, it doesn’t,” Joel hummed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked and brushed your lips over his.

A moment later Joel guided you out the restrooms with a protective hand resting at the small of your back. Weaving through the crowd, you’d made your way almost to the exit when you heard a shout of your name over the music.

“There you are!” Sarah shouted again as she moved through the crowd towards you and Joel, arms reached out to the sky.

“Oh! And you’ve finally met my dad!”

i hope this was okay and that someone liked this? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #bfd!joel miller #dom!joel miller #pedro pascal #*writing

3K notes · View notes

crookedteethed · 1 month ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 An Inconvenient Flat (or: How Not to Handle Your Best Friend's Hot Dad). • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- Rule #1 of having car trouble: Don't call your best friend's father for help when you've been secretly sleeping with him since her 21st birthday.

warnings -- 18+-mdni, smut with plot (unprotected piv), public sex, squirting, age gap relationship, sneaking around, angst, dilf!rafe, daddy issues (the regular kind AND the fun kind), cursing

bfd masterlist | main masterlist(s) | taglist | wc: 1.7k

The orange glow of your hazard lights bounced off the trees lining the empty road, creating an eerie disco effect that matched your current mood: somewhere between panic and hysteria.

Of course this would happen tonight, when you were already emotionally drained from watching Rafe flirt with some yacht club princess at your job at the Country Club all evening.

You'd been avoiding him since the disaster at his summer barbecue last month. Watching him with that woman – some elegant socialite who actually belonged in his world – had been the wake-up call you needed.

The way she'd laughed at his jokes, her manicured hand resting perfectly on his arm, looking every bit the sophisticated partner he deserved.

Not some twenty-three-year-old who still had pizza rolls for dinner and borrowed formal dresses from his daughter. When his hand settled on her lower back, so natural and public, something in you finally snapped.

You'd "accidentally" bumped into her by the grill, making sure your plate of barbecue sauce-drenched ribs landed exactly where it would do the most damage – all over her pristine Prada sandals. Her horrified gasp had been worth it, even if it was childish.

Your fingers hovered over your phone contacts. Mom would be asleep by now, and your father wasn't even worth considering as an option. With a sigh, you called the one person you could always count on.

"Come on, Bella, please?" you begged into your phone. "It's creepy out here!"

"I'm sorry!" Maribella's voice competed with thumping music in the background. "We're at The Wreck right now. Can't you call AAA?"

You slumped against your car, eyeing the very flat, very useless tire. "They said it'll be two hours. TWO. HOURS."

"Look, I can't come get you. I'm finally on a date with Preston, and I've been really wanting to fuck him for weeks!" Maribella whined over the music. "Remember when we made that pact in tenth grade that we'd never let a man interrupt our ho phase?"

"That was before you ditched me at parties to make out with random guys," you reminded her, grinning despite your situation.

"Oh my god, ancient history! And hey, at least I didn't get caught stealing my dad's expensive whiskey like SOMEONE did during senior year."

"I didn't steal it! I was… borrowing it. And may I remind you who drank most of it?"

"Speaking of dads…" Maribella's voice took on that tone she used when she thought she had a brilliant idea. "I could call mine?! He's literally ten minutes away and you know he's great with cars and all that manly stuff. You know, since you're so familiar with his… skills."

Your stomach dropped. "No. Absolutely not."

"Oh come on! I'm still processing the trauma from when you confessed about hooking up with him at my birthday party. What's one more therapy session?" She cackled. "Besides, he's actually really helpful with cars!" she repeated. "Just try to keep it in your pants this time? I really don't need to add 'stepmom who used to braid my hair in middle school' to my list of emotional damages."

You winced, remembering how she'd spent weeks making daddy issue jokes and changing your contact name in her phone to "Dad's Type."

She'd even gotten you a "World's Okay-est Stepmom" mug for your birthday as a gag gift. The thought of giving her more ammunition made you want to crawl into a hole and die.

If only she knew just how many therapy sessions she'd actually need if she knew about all the other times her father had been helpful lately.

"Fine," you sighed. "I'll call him."

He answered on the second ring.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?"

"My tire's flat. Maribella suggested—"

"Of course she did." His voice was sharp. "Where are you?"

Ten minutes later, the familiar rumble of his truck approached. He stepped out looking infuriatingly good in dark jeans and a light blue henley – probably the same outfit he'd worn to meet up with the woman you saw him with at the Country Club earlier.

"Well," he drawled, "this is familiar."

"Just fix the tire, Rafe."

"What, no small talk?" He crouched down to inspect the damage. "Haven't seen you around the house lately. I'm not the reason that is, is it?"

"Don't worry about it," you laughed bitterly. "I'm sure between the country club brunettes and the yoga instructors, you barely noticed I was gone. Your bed probably didn't even have time to get cold, did it, Rafe?"

You hated how bitter you sounded, hated even more that you cared at all. It shouldn't matter who your best friend's father was sleeping with – that thought alone should have been enough to make you cringe and run away. Instead, here you were, counting his conquests like some jealous ex when you had no right to be either jealous or an ex.

But something about seeing him with other women made your skin crawl, made you want to remind him of how well he knew your body, how perfectly you fit together. It was messed up, you knew that. You shouldn't care who Rafe Cameron took to his bed. You shouldn't, but god help you, you did.

His jaw tightened. "You don't get to play the jealous ex. You're the one who walked away."

"Ex?" You let out a harsh laugh. "Pretty sure we needed to actually date first, Rafe. But we couldn't exactly do that, could we? Because this was never going to work! You're my best friend's father, for god's sake. You practically watched me grow up."

"That's not—"

"And let's be honest, I've seen how you are with women. The yacht club brunette today? The woman at the barbecue? I'm not going to be another notch in your bedpost. What was it you used to say? That I'm 'practically family'? Funny how that worked out."

The air between you crackled with tension as he stood suddenly, his full height making your breath catch. He stepped closer, crowding you against your car until you could smell his cologne – that expensive scent that still lingered on your pillowcase no matter how many times you washed it.

The street was dead silent except for the distant chirp of crickets and your own heartbeat thundering in your ears. His proximity was dizzying, familiar in a way that made your skin prickle with awareness.

"Is that what you think this was?" His voice dropped lower, rough around the edges. The way he was looking at you – like he could devour you whole – made your knees weak, and you hated yourself for still wanting him this much.

"Wasn't it?" You meant it to sound defiant, but it came out breathy, betraying every ounce of want you were trying to hide.

The hazard lights kept casting orange shadows across his face, highlighting the dangerous glint in his eyes, the clench of his jaw. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, remembering all too well how that heat felt pressed against you, inside you.

"Christ, you're infuriating." His hands gripped your waist, pushing you against the car. "You think I sleep around because I enjoy it? I've been trying to get you out of my head since that night at Bella's party."

"By getting under every other woman in town?"

"By trying to convince myself I don't want you." His voice dropped lower, rough with confession. "It's not working."

Before you could respond, he surged forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His mouth moved against yours with desperate intensity, drawing a gasp from your throat that he swallowed eagerly.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, punctuated by heavy breaths and quiet groans. Your hands found his buzzed head, nails scraping against his scalp as he pressed you harder against the car, his body caging yours completely.

"Back seat," you panted against his mouth. "Now."

He pulled back just enough to smirk. "So much for being practically family."

"Shut up before I change my mind."

His eyes darkened as he pulled you into the back seat, the familiar electricity crackling between you. Every touch felt like coming home and burning alive at the same time.

You'd forgotten how perfectly you fit together, how he knew exactly where to kiss to make you gasp his name.

"I've missed you," he breathed against your neck, hands mapping the familiar territory of your body like he was afraid you'd disappear again. "Every single day."

You arched into him, fingers tangling in his hair. "Prove it."

The windows steamed up as clothing was hastily discarded, the small space of the back seat making everything more intense, more desperate.

Each touch, each kiss felt like a confession neither of you could say out loud. Your bodies remembered this dance well, finding their rhythm in the darkness.

Rafe groaned as he lined himself up with your soaking cunt, and slowly sank his thick cock deep inside of you, stretching you deliciously.

Your head fell back against the seat, lips parted in a silent moan. His hips rocked forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your slick heat.

"God, you feel amazing," he rasped, voice rough with desire.

You clenched around him in response, drawing a sharp intake of breath. The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, perfect, your body struggling to adjust to his size.

Each small movement sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, making you forget everything except how perfectly he filled you. It was almost too much – the stretch, the pressure, the way he seemed to reach places no one else ever had.

Rafe began to move, setting a steady rhythm that had you clinging to your legs around his waist.

His lips found your neck, trailing hot kisses down to your collarbone. Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders, desperately trying to ground yourself as the coiling tension inside you built higher and higher, just as Rafe began to fuck you rougher.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as Rafe's pace intensified. His powerful thrusts drove you higher, the friction delicious and maddening.

"That's it, baby," Rafe growled. "Take all of me."

He shifted the angle of his hips, bracing one hand on the window above you for leverage, and you gasped as he hit that perfect spot deep inside. His other hand gripped your hip possessively, guiding his movements as the heat between you became almost unbearable.

Your lips parted, too overwhelmed by sensation and cock drunk to form words. Understanding flickered in Rafe's eyes as he caught your silent request, his mouth claiming yours in a desperate, passionate kiss.

The intensity of the moment consumed you both as his movements grew more urgent, more demanding.

Everything else faded away until there was nothing but this—nothing but him.

In the confined space of the car, the sound of your heavy breathing and Rafe's grunts and groans filled the air. The creaking of the leather seats and the thumping of your bodies against them added to the erotic soundtrack of your lovemaking.

Stars began to burst behind your eyelids as the pressure reached an almost unbearable peak. Your body trembled beneath him, every muscle tightening as you drew closer to the edge. Rafe could feel you starting to unravel--the quick pulses of your pussy bringing him closer to his release-- your breathing becoming more erratic with each movement.

Rafe's movements became erratic, his own release near. "Scream my name when you cum for me," he commanded, voice rough. His thumb finding your most sensitive spot, circling relentlessly

"Rafe!" you gasped, the sound somewhere between a prayer and a curse. His name became your mantra as an unfamiliar pressure built low in your stomach.

You almost wanted to tell him to stop – the sensation was so intense, so foreign, like you needed to run to the bathroom – but the mounting pleasure was too overwhelming to even think about stopping. Every nerve ending was on fire as that strange feeling began to burst.

You let out a guttural scream as your body convulsed with pleasure. Rafe's thumb to your clit and his cock deep inside you pushed you over the edge with a loud wet "squelch!" causing you to squirt all over him and the back seat of your car.

Your whole body shuddered as waves of pleasure crashed over you, a cry of surprise escaping your lips as something entirely new overtook you. The intensity was overwhelming, leaving you breathless and trembling in the aftermath.

Wet sounds filled the car as Rafe continued to fuck into you, and soon after your release, with the overwhelming intensity building between you mixed with both your cries of pleasure, Rafe followed you over the edge, groaning your name as he came undone.

You felt the warmth of his release as his body trembled against yours, his forehead pressed to your shoulder as you both fought to catch your breath in the aftermath of your shared pleasure.

Still trembling, the realization slowly dawning that Rafe Cameron had just made you squirt for the first time.

"Well," Rafe's voice was rough, that dangerous smirk playing on his lips despite the tension still crackling between you. "That's definitely a first." His eyes darkened with a mix of pride and something deeper as he watched you trying to catch your breath. "Didn't know you had that in you, sweetheart."

You couldn't look at him, the weight of what just happened – what always happened between you – settling heavily in your chest. "Don't."

"Don't what?" He brushed your hair back, his touch lingering longer than it should. "Don't point out how well I know your body? Or don't remind you why you keep coming back?"

"Neither," you said coldly, shoving his clothes against his chest. The warmth in his eyes flickered and died at your tone. "Fix my tire so I can go home, Rafe."

You watched something hard settle in his jaw as the reality of what you were – what you could never be – crashed back over both of you.

Later – when your clothes were mostly back on and the windows had started to defog – he finally fixed your tire in loaded silence. The tension between you was suffocating, heavier than before. You both knew this solved nothing; if anything, it just made everything more complicated.

"This doesn't change anything," you said, watching him work. "We still can't—"

"I know." He tightened the last bolt with more force than necessary, the smirk from making you squirt for the first time long gone. "Go home."

Your phone buzzed – Maribella: "Haven't heard back from you… should I be concerned you and daddy dearest are christening the backseat of your car rn? 💀 But seriously, did he fix your car tire yet?"

You watched Rafe's back as he checked the tire one final time, your chest aching with the weight of what could never be. The man who made your body sing was the same man who'd helped you with your college applications, who still had photos of you and Maribella at swim meets hanging in his hallway. Some lines weren't meant to be crossed – no matter how many times you'd already crossed them.

"Thanks for the help," you said quietly, getting into your car.

He just nodded, already walking back to his truck. The weight of what could've been hung heavy between you – if only he'd met you first, in another time, another life.

Not as his daughter's best friend who practically grew up in his house, but as someone he could love openly, someone he could choose without destroying everything else that mattered.

as always, reblogs, likes, and comments keeps me motivated. 🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore @madzig @thatdesigirl17 @drewstarkeysrightarm @seqhyvnz @romantasyreader2024 @luizaelias @rafe-cameronswife @emmavzlsblog @aileenunfiltered @swe3theart-succubus @511rkive @morrrrphin @xcinnamonmalfoyx @obxrafeandjj @rafegf-real @theeternaloptimistt @tini5 @noisychopshopking @hihelloooooooo23 @drewsphswife @zondexr @beckygomez1997 @writtenbyhollywood @heartsforrafecam @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @twinklstarrrr @dilfluvr4evr @yvbe99 @starkeysbebe

487 notes · View notes