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melobin · 9 months

Text

જ⁀➴ mirror 𐙚 sungchan

warnings - smut, dom!sungchan, mirror sex, strength kink, size kink, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, praise, dacryphilia, manhandling, choking, big dick!sungchan

wc - 3k

summary - you and sungchan stay in a hotel for the night where there’s a continently placed mirror above the bed.

a/n - a conversation with my love @neosvcr occurred and now this is here! very sorry to my friends over at the discord server …..

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“i’ve never seen a mirror above a bed before” sungchan looked over at you as he emerged from the bathroom, a plain white towel wrapped low around his hips. if you weren’t so distracted by the mirror you would’ve been drooling over him.

“really?”

“mhm” your eyes travelled from the ceiling to your boyfriend, shamelessly flicking straight to his abs. there were still a few droplets of water slowly sliding down them, you let your mouth water at the sight of him “what is it even used for? it’s not very practical” sungchan laughed at your question.

“are you checking me out?” you could only hum in response as you watched him pick up a different towel and bring it to his hair, drying as much of it as he could. his biceps flexed as he done it, toned arms being on full show for you to enjoy “what do you think they use it for, love?” you simply hummed again, too distracted on watching him to answer. he looked up at you and smiled “perv”.

“it’s not my fault” he threw the towel he used for his hair onto the chair in the room and walked over to the bed, sitting next to where you were perched up against the headboard. he brought his hand to your face, brushing your hair out of it before cupping your jaw. he took note of the way your thighs clenched together the closer he got to you.

“then whos fault is it?” his hand fell from your jaw to your bare thigh, mentally thanking you for putting on one of his shirts. it both drowned you and exposed you all at the same time, the shirt being baggy over your skin but the sleeve falling down your right arm exposing your shoulder to him. his shirts always rode up your thighs, especially when you were sat down. it gave him easy access to the parts of you he loved teasing the most.

“yours? why would it be mine? i’m not the one in the gym everyday just because my best friend beat me in an arm wrestle once” sungchan narrowed his eyes at you.

“well he hasn’t beat me since has he? none of them have”

“i know, it’s hot” you placed your hand on his shoulder and let it slide down his arm, stopping on his muscle to dig your fingers into it lightly “you know i love how strong you are, channie”

“of course i do baby” he leaned forward to press an open mouthed kiss against the exposed skin of your shoulder, hand moving up and squeezing your thigh “my sweet girl” his kisses slowly trailed from your shoulder to your neck, fingers inching toward your panties. “so little and fragile” he pressed the pads of them against your clothed clit, slowly rubbing his fingers up and down the material as he sucked on the skin just below your ear “could break you if i wanted to”.

you whimpered at what he was doing, sungchan always knew how to push your buttons and work you up. he studied your body intense, learning all the ways to make you tick and always used them against you immediately after. he claimed working you up was just a way to make things feel even better for you, but you knew he just enjoyed teasing you. he could be so evil sometimes.

“why don’t i show you why people have mirrors above their bed, hm? promise ill fuck you real good” he put more pressure against your clit, he was practically moaning his words into your ear. it done nothing to dull the throb he was creating between your legs.

“please” you whimpered, he pulled away from your neck to look at you. pushing your panties aside with his fingers to feel your soaked cunt directly, he practically hissed when he felt how wet you were. he circled your clit whilst he leaned in to kiss you, lips moulding perfectly against yours. tongue slotting into your mouth when your lips parted to let out a moan. the kiss carried on for a short while before he was pulling away.

“you’re so wet, did you get that worked up from watching me?” your fingers fell from his biceps to his wrist, wrapping around it as his fingers sped up. your hips bucked slightly against his hand, small whines leaving your lips.

“you’re just so pretty, channie, can’t help it” your words are broken and slurred, you were a wreck already but to him you were the cutest thing. he found it even cuter when you whined as he pulled his fingers off of you. instead they climbed up your body, under the shirt you were wearing in order to pull it over your head, every part of him adored the fact you lacked clothing underneath. bare tits on display for him.

“lay down for me, baby” you followed his instructions, laying down properly on the bed, letting your head fall against the pillow before looking at him. he stood up and let his towel fall to the floor, his cock was already hard, it struggled to hold itself up with how heavy it was. precum leaking down the sides, coating his bulging veins. just the sight of sungchan’s cock made you whine, countless memories of how he’d use it to drive you to the bring of insanity with sharp, deep thrusts clouded your mind. you could never get enough of him.

you expected him to kneel up between your legs and slide his cock into you, but he didn’t. instead he moved to lay down between your legs, hands grabbing the top of your inner thighs inorder to spread your legs further apart. he littered small, open mouthed kisses along the skin of your inner thigh before looking up at you to meet your eyes. his fingers hooked over the waist band of your panties, he pulled them down your legs and let them fall to the floor, almost moaning when he felt how soaked they were. he was quick to return back to his former position

“mmm” he hummed for a moment, digging his fingers a little deeper into your thighs “don’t watch me, just lay back and look into the mirror” you met your own eyes in the mirror above you, your reflection looking back at you. the position let you see sungchan too, or well the back of him. still, your boyfriends back was one of the hottest things about him, especially after you had raked your nails down it as he fucked you. there was excitement lacing through your veins at the idea of being able to see the way his back flexed through the mirror as he fucked you.

the feeling of his tongue against your cunt brought you out of the daze you were entering, sungchan never held back when he ate you out and you knew he wasn’t going to tonight. his tongue flicked against your swollen clit teasingly, he almost whined as the taste of you filled his mouth. you were always so sweet, always melted delciously on his tongue, it was one of the reasons he always called you his sweet girl. he meant it literally.

sungchan dragged his tongue down your slit, pushing it inside you just to collect more of your slick on your tongue before licking back up to your clit and swirling it around it. he loved making you as wet as possible, nothing was hotter to him than making a complete mess of you. and he always did, especially when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it until you felt light headed. he placed a hand against your lower stomach to keep you in place whilst he done it.

it was then that your hands went to his hair, he was quick to grab one of them with his free hand and lace your fingers together, squeezing your hand as he continued sucking on your clit, tongue flicking over it. the sight in the reflection seemed filthy. it felt weird watching yourself be ravaged by your boyfriend, but it was hot. something about it felt so intimate and sensual. just the image of you sweating a little, one hand in his and the other in his hair and your body squirming as much as it could under his grip was surreal. you were starting to understand why people enjoyed using mirrors so much.

you felt his hand leave your stomach, moments later he had two fingers pressing into you, your cunt welcoming them eagerly. with how already drenched you were, his fingers slid inside of you easily. he thrust them into you slowly to begin with, that was until he was finger fucking you with his lips wrapped around your clit. fingers curling inside of you, being long enough to press perfectly against the spongy spot that laid deep within your walls. you were a mess, the intensity of the please had your head spinning, you could barely keep your eyes open to focus on the reflection above you.

you were falling apart, your sanity drifting away as you grew closer to spilling onto his tongue. he knew it too. he could tell by the way your moans grew louder, how you pulled a little harder on his hair and how you squeezed his hand impossibly hard to the point it almost hurt him. he loved it though, adored the fact he was pushing you into such a state of ecstasy that you could barely control your actions.

once you were cumming around his fingers you were lost, your eyes shut themselves as you were pushed over the edge. his tongue flicking non stop against your clit, fingers curling resulting in an embarrassingly loud squelching sound to echo throughout the hotel room. your moans almost overpowered the sound of it, especially when you were at the peak of your high. everything felt so intense, it left you shaking when you were coming down from it.

he pressed an open mouthed kiss onto your clit as he slipped his fingers out of you, he knelt back on his knees and looked down at you fondly. your gaze was set on the mirror above you, eyes flicking over your own body in the reflection. you looked so fucked out, sungchan thought you looked pretty like this and he hoped you thought it too.

“so sweet” his fingers ran over your skin, hand still in yours “my sweet girl, gonna fuck you so good, just like i promised” he settled himself properly between your thighs, he held the base of his cock with his hand and pressed it against your cunt. he lifted it before slapping it against your clit, laughing at the way you whined and jolted at the sudden action.

sungchan leaned over you, keeping your hand in his and pinning it against the pillow next to your head. he leaned down to kiss you softly, lips only pressing against yours for a brief few seconds before he was pulling them off of yours and shifting his cock to line up with your hole. he looked down at you whilst he pressed the tip inside of you, his lips parted as he felt you squeeze around him.

“need to relax, baby” he breathed out, already feeling overwhelmed by how wet and warm you were “can’t fit me inside if you’re too tense” you nodded at him, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on his as he stretched you out, easing himself deeper with a gentle whine. you could’ve came just from the sounds he was making, nothing was prettier than the way sungchan moaned when his cock was pressed deep inside of you.

sungchan grabbed your other hand and pinned it on the pillow the other side of your head, keeping you in place with your hands in his. his head found its way into the crook of your neck, hips pressed against yours as he tried to relax himself. you’d swallowed his cock whole, took every inch of him with ease. sungchan remembered the time you struggled to take even half of his cock, now you were here taking all of him eagerly. he was proud but so overwhelmed, nothing compared to the feeling of your soaked little cunt wrapped around his cock.

it only took a few sharp thrusts for your eyes to find the mirror, the reflection showed something that you could only describe as completely sinful. sungchan’s back flexed with each thrust, your legs were wrapped around his waist pushing him deeper into you. it turned you on endlessly, sungchan was sure he felt you gushing around him, clenching with every other thrust. it turned him into a mess. his moans fell into your neck, groaning a little deeper each time you tightened your cunt around him.

“you’re so fucking wet” sungchan found the strength to lift his head out of your neck, pace of his thrusts increasing slightly as he looked at you, finding your eyes glued to the ceiling. they were dark, he was sure he had never seen you so turned on before, so soaked and dazed “you like watching yourself get fucked, baby?” you moaned, eyes barely flicking away from the mirror to meet his eyes, he pressed a soft kiss against your jaw, noticing the way your eyes had filled with tears.

“feel good?” you nodded, whimpering the moment your lips parted when you tried to talk. sungchan’s hips bucked a little harder against yours, a tear fell from your eye at the contact. you felt swollen, poor pussy being fucked raw by him, the feeling was surreal, the pleasure more intense than ever “fuck, you look so pretty when you cry” he leaned down to press a soft kiss against the tear that fell from your eye before slowing his thrusts down, lifting himself up and pulling out of you. you could only whimper at the sudden emptiness you felt.

“what’s wrong?” his heart melted at the way you asked him, your eyes wide and cautious as you watched him. he smiled at you.

“want you to ride me” god, if there was one thing you knew sungchan adored, it was having you ride him. he loved taking control even when you were on top of him, somehow he always found a way to grab you and fuck his cock up into you. it sent you to heaven every time without fail.

he sat down, having part of his back resting against the headboard. he was slouched, he beckoned you to sit on his lap. once you did he grabbed you, it was as if he manhandled you so your back was against his chest. “gonna watch you get fucked together, okay? need to see my pretty girl fall apart” you gulped back a whine at his words, he held his arms around your waist as you reached down to hold his cock, trying your hardest in your shaky state to line him up with you.

a whimper left you as you sank down on his cock, hands holding onto his toned forearms as you took all of him. the familiar warmth instantly filling you again. your nails dug into his skin when you felt him thrust up lightly into you, your body moulded against his. you met his eyes through the mirror, his eyes looked clouded over, as if he was in a state of delirium. sungchan simply thought that what he was looking at was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, he needed to wreck you.

he placed his feet flat on the bed, one of his arms leaving your waist so he could wrap his hand around your neck, his other hand fell to your clit as he thrusted up into you. his grip on your neck was tight as he fucked you, cock fucking into you quite fast with strength behind his thrusts. you were dizzy and that only grew as he groaned into your ear.

“you’re so fucking perfect” his eyes never left your body as he fucked up into you, fingers rubbing constant circles on your clit. if he wasn’t as strong as he was, you were sure you would’ve slipped off of his body with how much you were trying to squirm. the overwhelming pleasure made it hard to keep still “you look so little against me, fuck, you drive me insane” he practically groaned his words out.

he was right, it only made you clench around his more as you watched the way his body almost devoured yours. he was ruining you, inside and out, in the best ways possible. everything mixed together left you on the verge of cumming around his cock, yet it was impossible for you to tell him. moans slipped from your lips, you could see the way his cock disappeared inside of you through the mirror and somehow the visual of it only made it harder for you to keep your moans to yourself. sungchan had a good sense of your body though, being able to tell when you were on the edge.

“cum, baby, need you to see how pretty you look when you cum” sungchan’s voice was strained, he was holding himself off from pressing his cock inside of you and filling you with his cum. but he couldn’t, not yet, he needed to watch you cum first. and he did. he watched you squeeze around his cock, felt you dig your nails into his arm as he fucked you through your orgasm, his cum spilling into you only moments after.

his arms wrapped around your waist as you tried to calm down, your thighs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. your eyes met his in the mirror again, there was a soft smile on his face. both of you were fucked out, on the edge of delirious, but that didn’t stop you from asking him an important question.

“so, when are we getting one?”

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#riize smut #sungchan smut #✧ melody posts #✧ hard hours ✧

938 notes · View notes

sp4ceboo · 6 months

Note

NO NEED FOR ME TO HIDE🙏🏾🙏🏾

Bestie, are you going to continue Atonement universe?🥺 I am very curious on how their interactions could look like in the future, now that they have an accurate understanding of their intents

A/N: U ASKED JUST THE RIGHT QUESTION MY FAVOURITE BUNNY, but bc im evil i've made this into a bunch of feyd headcanons even tho no one asked

tw: 18+, smut headcanons (switch feyd ladies and gents), cannibalism (by the harpies), i dropkick everyone with feyd's trauma, therefore mentions of sa and pedophilia (fuck you vladimir), 'who did this to you' because man if that's not one of the yummiest things ever, nightmares, children and pregnancy, also sterility, swearing somewhere probably,

wc: 2.3k

part 1 (this can be read as a stand alone, it's just feyd headcanons)

feyd does everything he can to make up for how he treated you in the first months of your marriage

you assure him that it's fine, that he doesn't have to beat himself up over what he has done, but you still notice the pain in his eyes when he looks at you

he hovers close to you at all times, keeping a hand at the small of your back or pulling you close into his side

it's a strange process, only getting to know your husband in the fourth month of your marriage, but it's a process that you treasure

you'll ask him silly things from his favourite food to his opinions on the carvings on the table over there whenever the questions occur to you

it's late at night, while he's gently cleaning you up after sex or holding you tightly in his arms, your head tucked under his chin, when he tells you the deeper, more painful things

the grief in his voice is so raw as he describes to you how his uncle pitted him and rabban against each other from a young age, how his childhood was stolen from him - you ache for him, for the things that were taken from him before he could even fight for them

you find out about his nightmares soon after that - not because he tells you, but because one happens

you suspect there was something he wasn't quite ready to tell you, but you didn't press; no hands have handled feyd's heart the way he lets you, and you're determined to honour that privilege

a storm howls outside, and you think that the rumbles of thunder were what woke you

you turn over and realise it's feyd, his features contorted with fear even in his sleep, eyes rolling under the lids as he trembles, broken pleas leaving his lips

all you catch is a 'don't' and a 'please, uncle'

something cold slithers down your spine

touching his face, you grab his shoulder, shaking him, whispering his name, trying to wake him gently

a tear leaks down his cheek, and a meek sound leaves him, ripping your heart in two - you need to wake him up, free him from this dream

'feyd.'

his eyes snap open, and in them, you clearly see the expression of a trapped, cornered animal

you say his name again, and he looks at you sharply, unseeing

he's awake and yet somehow he's still trapped in the nightmare; he wraps his hands around your throat, and you gasp, nails digging into his forearms in an effort to wake him up

with precious air, you rasp out his name again, and he blinks, slowly gaining consciousness

his face crumples when he finds his hands around your neck

distress limns his features as he backs away from you, shaking his head, horrified by his own doing

your head spins with lack of air but you reach out to him, refusing to let him slip away - you snare him in your arms, hold him tightly, kiss his face

he doesn't move, afraid to hurt you

you pull back to stare him in the eyes

'i'm okay. i am okay. you hear me, feyd? i'm fine. i'm not hurt.'

he buries his face in your shoulder and when you feel hot tears on your skin, rage simmers and seethes, wrathful in your chest

'who did this to you?'

your voice is dripping with fury; he shakes with a sob, and you run your hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him and the anger inside you

eventually, he calms, and you tilt his face up, gently wiping the tears off his cheeks, waiting

he holds out his arms again, and you oblige him, letting him hide his face in your shoulder as he tells you the substances of his nightmares - memories of the baron, eyes rabid, hands reaching, and it makes you tremble with rage

you crush feyd in your grip, and he clings onto you, his eyes wet, letting you anchor his drowning spirit

the two of you fall asleep twined together, feyd cradled in your embrace

in the morning, you cup his face in your hands and tell him that you will protect him, fight for him, love him until your blood stills in your veins

one of the first thing feyd does is dismiss his harpies from their duties

originally, he was going to get rid of them permanently, but you convinced him not to, telling him you wanted to meet them

to be honest, feyd didn't really understand (he thought you wanted to 'use' them for a bit and was kind of taken aback until you reassured him you just wanted to talk to them)

he stayed in the room anyways, knowing that his harpies could be jealous, but he had nothing to fear

all you do is chat to them, and in the same way you charmed him, you charm them

feyd marvels at the way you reach out to them and connect with them with so much ease, laughing and joking with them, complimenting their pretty eyes and tattoos as if they are your long time friends

from then on, they are no longer feyd's harpies, but yours

they accompany you around the palace and sometimes to court

the latter causes quite a stir; none of the nobles can make sense of why the na-baron's feral cannibal troupe are now dressed in fine clothing and following the na-baronness around

you enjoy their company - they brighten your day considerably, and are not afraid to make remarks a little too loudly in front of nobles

you have to hide your laughter when one of them comments on the scruffy facial hair of the duke addressing feyd, even more so when he stares at them wide eyed, a little fearful of them

in a way, they protect you and you protect them

if a noble approaches you with disrespect, they'll joke loudly among themselves about the taste of his flesh

in the same way, if someone makes a snide remark of their presence, you're quick to challenge it

the perplexed look on feyd's face amuses you to no end when he realises they prefer you now

feyd and the harpies teach you about harkonnen culture

feyd especially tells you stories about how he hunted on forests long cut down when he was a boy, and you love to listen to him, watching his face and drinking in the softer, nostalgic tone in his voice

he shows himself to you in little ways

feyd complains to you about the nobles in the court, how he hates their decorum and their entitlement

he talks to you for hours about different fighting forms, occasionally getting up to demonstrate them to you, and you marvel at the accuracy and fluidity of his movements

he takes you to his favourite parts of giedi prime, shows you the volcanoes and the less polluted parts of the capital city

he tells you the story of every scar on his body, and you find yourself captivated by the look in his eyes as he recalls a good fight

he whispers on your skin promises - promises of love, sweet on his tongue but never cloying, always true

in turn he asks you about your old life, about your home planet and your family

you answer happily, loving the way his eyes follow you, their blue tone becoming your favourite colour

you tell him about the time you visited to see him fight, how you saw the fire within him even then, and he chuckles, enthralled by the idea that even when the two of you were too young to really comprehend what your arranged marriage meant, you were still drawn to each other

he tells you how when he raised his knife, victorious, he spotted you in the crowd - a small girl, her back ram rod straight - and thought you were the sweetest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on

not that you seemed breakable to him; no, he thought you were formidable, too, not even bothering to hide your frown in an arena of cheering, happy faces

it felt right that he would marry a woman who wasn't afraid of him

feyd teaches you how to fight

he delights in the way you grow so bold with him, delivering snarky remarks if he teases you, rising to meet everything he throws at you

you're a good fighter - unpredictable in your moves - and he's immeasurably proud that he was the one who taught you

sometimes, once you're good enough to duel, you'll end up staggering to the nearest somewhat secluded area to fuck

now that you know you're not alone, you're so confident of yourself, confident in the electrifying look in your eyes and confident in the way you make him beg

feyd never thought he'd like to give up control, but with you it's addicting

he trusts you

he lets you ravage him, lets you use him until he's spent, panting, thighs shaking, knowing that you would let him do the same - knowing that you do let him do the same

there's something so raw about letting himself go in your touch

his head spins when you tie him up, your deft fingers checking the knots and tightening the bindings across his torso, making art with his skin as the canvas

feyd is addicted to you in every aspect

he can't get enough of your pussy; he'd spend hours between your legs, pulling sounds out of you that you didn't know you could make

he thinks that the closest he's ever come to heaven is when he's buried balls deep in your cunt while you beg him harder, faster

A/N: i couldn't choose between these two scenarios so have both

EITHER after almost a year, you begin to wonder why you haven't pregnant

especially with the way feyd fucks you

so you seek the help of a doctor - the test results come back a week after, accusatory, damning

you're sterile

your first reaction is to tell feyd, but once you find yourself face to face with him, his gaze concerned as he holds your waist, you can't tell him

you just fall into his arms, staying your tears, doubts crawling into your skull and gnawing at the edges of your mind

you can't give him an heir

there's no way around it

what if he takes a concubine? what if he realises you serve no purpose to him? what if he stops loving you?

feyd doesn't pry about the tests results until the next day when he finds you in the shower, hands trembling and head bowed

he tips your chin up so he can look you in the eye

'tell me what troubles you, my love.'

so you do, with his fingers curled around your waist, the shower water running over your skin

he kisses you once you finish, and it tears at his heart the way you're looking up at him, trying to hide the worry in your eyes as you wait for his reply

feyd doesn't mince his words when he tells you that he doesn't care if you cannot give him an heir, that all he asks of you is to let him love you - it's then that the tears fall, and he kisses them away, holding you close to him

you grieve for the children you can never have, but feyd remains by you, almost supernatural with the way he senses your pain

your gaze might fall upon one of the servant's children, causing an ache in your heart, and within a few seconds his fingers will twine with yours and he'll tuck you into his side, kissing your hair

OR you have twins: one girl, one boy

the girl is three minutes older than the boy

feyd is obssessed with your pregnant body; he always has his hands on you in some way

he gets more protective, if that's possible

sometimes he lies between your thighs, his palms spread over your stomach as he talks to the two of them, and the softness and wonder in his eyes brings a warmth to your chest

feyd is with you when you feel the first contraction and promptly carries you to the midwives

he lets you crush his hand in your grip as you give birth to the lives you've made together, wiping the sweat off your forehead and quietly encouraging you

the first time you hand them to him to hold, he's hesitant, hands fluttering over you as he figures out what to do, but he's a fast learner

there's a fierce protective glint in his eyes when he cradles them in his arms, one that you glimpse when he looks at you too, and within it there's a deep, pure joy

he teaches them how to fight, and yet he's still so gentle with them, laughing as they giggle and cling to him, one latched onto each leg

the girl is how you'd imagine feyd was as a boy: half feral, yet charming when she wants to be, while the boy is a little calmer, more unflappable, and happy to entertain his sister's mischievous endeavours

both love the harpies, and there have been multiple times when you walk in on the twins gaping wide eyed at the harpies as they regale them with old tales

sometimes, feyd will scoop them up, one in each arm, so they can reach up and give you a little kiss on the cheek before he pecks your lips

you think it's beautiful, the family that you've made with him

feyd loves the way you look at him, with that mischief in your eyes, as if you're sharing a secret with him

he loves your sweet laughter, the softness in your hands when you touch him and how you don't shy away from protecting him, defiant even in his uncle's presence

he knows he would kill for you, die for you - he'd do anything for you

you would do the same: it makes feyd's head fuzzy, when you get so fiercely protective over him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you glare at the baron, lacing your words with venom when you address him

you'd stop at nothing, just to protect his honour

when you're after something, nothing stands in your way, and yet you can handle him with such soft, gentle hands, banishing his nightmares with the light tracing of your fingertips on his back

feyd heals in your presence, and you grow in his

your love is eternal

679 notes · View notes

edenesth · 8 months

Text

The Way to His Heart [11]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Trigger Warnings: gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 10 | Fic Masterlist | Part 12

Hearing the cessation of all the screams, one of the royal guards gathered the courage to enter the chamber and check on Seonghwa, "Sir, are you done?"

Upon entering, he had yet to witness the state in which the former minister was left. The general stood before his victim, actively wiping all the blood off his hands with a towel prepared beforehand, "It's done. Has my assistant arrived to pick me up?"

"Yes, sir. Assistant Choi is waiting with your carriage by the entrance. If I remember correctly, he mentioned Lady Park helped prepare dinner today." A smile instantly graced your husband's face at the mere mention of you.

"Thank you, soldier. Bring in the rest and clean up the mess," He instructed, finally stepping away from the seat in the middle of the room, revealing the sight of your father slumped in the chair, both of his arms missing, blood gushing out from his shoulders, "Get him to a physician before banishing him. No need to treat him extensively; heal him just enough to keep him alive."

Freezing, the guard nodded quickly, "Y-yes, sir! We will not let you down!" His round eyes fixated on the two mutilated limbs on the ground in the middle of the puddle of crimson liquid.

The general was truly not someone to be underestimated, that was evident to the royal guards who filed in later on to clean up the bloody mess. They now understood why Seonghwa was so feared among those who had worked with him or witnessed his cold-blooded nature firsthand.

However, rather than instilling pure terror, your husband garnered more respect from them. He had gone to great lengths just to avenge his beloved wife. This demonstrated that the man still possessed a heart after all and that his affection for Lady Park was undeniable. He has proven that he could love just as fiercely as he hated.

Not a single member of the palace staff harboured even a hint of pity for the former Minister of Military Affairs as they dealt with his mangled body according to instructions. Any citizen with access to news was aware of all the cruel acts the old man had committed against his own daughter and first wife. It was safe to say that witnessing him in this state brought ample satisfaction not only to the general but to others as well.

"Sir, there's a bit of blood here."

The assistant extended his handkerchief, ensuring his master was free from any signs of bloodshed as they returned home. The last thing they all needed was for you to catch on to any of the events that occurred today; you should only focus on happiness and never spare another thought for your so-called family from now onwards.

"Thank you, Jongho," The general responded, taking the piece of fabric to remove the small bloodstain on his neck, "Keep me posted on where they banished that clown afterwards. It would be nice to check in on him once in a while, for entertainment purposes."

"Yes, sir."

Upon entering the estate, he was surprised not to find you waiting for him by the entrance, as was your usual routine when he returned from work. Only the head maid and a few servants stood there, ready to greet him, "Welcome home, master. We hope you had a good day at work." They said with a deep bow.

Seonghwa frowned, "Where's the mistress?" The elderly woman replied, "Mistress is currently at the main hall having a chat with Royal Secretary Choi while they were awaiting your return."

That immediately had the general rushing towards the hall. He didn't like the thought of you alone with... yet another handsome man. He had finally grown accustomed to having Yunho around the estate whenever he was at work, only because the two of you rarely interacted; he knew that thanks to daily reports from Eunsook. Now, jealousy was flooding his veins again.

What if you found San more attractive?

"Yes, I fully understand your concern. My sister faces similar issues," The royal secretary's voice carried from outside the hall, and then your softer response followed, "Thank you so much for your help, San. It means a lot to me."

They're already on a first-name basis?

"Help? With what?" He queried, abruptly pulling you and the secretary from your conversation. Both of you looked up at him, and you blinked and stammered nervously, quickly rising from your seat, "Oh, Seonghwa! You're home! It's nothing, we were just having a casual conversation while waiting for you."

Sensing your unease, San chuckled and concurred, "Yes, it was nothing important. It's good that you're back; I've come to deliver the minutes of today's assembly to you, as per His Majesty's orders."

"Please don't let me interrupt; I'll be waiting for you at the dining hall," You remarked to your husband, offering a nod of gratitude to the secretary, "It was nice talking to you, Royal Secretary Choi," The man respectfully bowed his head, "And you, Lady Park."

The general watched the interaction between you two with unmistakable envy, causing San to suppress a snicker into his fist, "Without further ado, general, let's proceed so that you can join your wife for dinner as soon as possible," Seonghwa nodded, feigning nonchalance, "Of course."

As the secretary continued to share the main details discussed during the assembly, he noticed the general's slight distraction. Wrapping up the debrief, he decided to ease your husband's thoughts by divulging the nature of your earlier conversation.

"Listen, before you came back, Lady Park and I were just talking about her concerns regarding being a better wife. Given that my elder sister, who is married, shares similar worries, I was merely offering some insights that might be helpful. So, don't stress over it too much, okay? I assure you, you're the only one on her mind."

Learning that you were only seeking to improve yourself for him, Seonghwa's heart melted immediately. Regret washed over him for entertaining the notion that you might find his colleague more appealing, and a slight embarrassment crept in, "I, uhh... it's not like I was worried about that or anything... but thank you, San. If that's all for today, Jongho will escort you out."

The secretary held back his knowing smile as they bid each other farewell before the general made his way to the dining hall. His heart pounded with excitement at the thought of being with you again.

Dinner went by as usual, though this time, you were brimming with enthusiasm as you shared how you spent the day learning to prepare his favourite dishes from the kitchen staff. You even mentioned the surprising discovery that you might have developed a love for cooking. He ate more than usual, savouring the fact that the meal was made just for him, and found it difficult to take his eyes off of you throughout the night.

He had once considered happiness to be a frivolous notion, something only fools wished for. He never anticipated being the one to experience it. Now that he had, your husband was determined not to lose this newfound feeling.

With your family matters now resolved, the only thing remaining was to give you the grand wedding you truly deserved. From then on, the plan was to enjoy a lifetime of this happiness together. Watching you munching away with joy, he couldn't resist reaching over to affectionately wipe the corner of your lips. At that moment, he realised that this was all he needed.

After the meal, he walked you back to the House of Lotus, hand in hand as usual. Upon reaching the entrance, you smiled up at him, "Have a good night, Seonghwa."

However, before you could turn and leave, he swiftly cupped your face, "Wait, before you go..." Your heart quickened as he leaned in, whispering, "Just one kiss, my love."

Almost instinctively, your eyes fluttered closed as soon as his lips met yours in a tender kiss. The warmth spread through your insides as he wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss by angling his head.

Feeling the sensation of his lips pressing against yours, again and again, you finally understood why couples enjoyed kissing. It was hard to put into words, but being so close to him felt pleasant, and your husband had a unique way of making you feel beautiful with his touches, even when you doubted it yourself. There was an almost addictive quality to it, making you feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be desired by the great General Park.

Perhaps I've found it... my happiness.

After breaking the kiss for a breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, a smile adorning his face as he looked down at you lovingly. In silence, the two of you remained in each other's arms, basking in the moment, reluctant to part.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short as your assigned group of servants approached, "Oh, pardon us for the intrusion, master and mistress! We came to assist in preparing the mistress for bed. May we proceed, master? Or, if you wish to stay with the mistress, we could also make arrangements for both of you for the night in the House of Lotus."

His heart raced as he witnessed the faint blush on your cheeks in response to the maid's suggestion. Chuckling, he gently shook his head and placed a kiss on your forehead, "No, the mistress needs her rest. Perhaps another time. Go on ahead then; she will join you soon."

"Yes, master, as you wish."

The servants entered your quarters to prepare your bath while you exchanged your goodnight. Caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, he couldn't resist leaning in for a final, lingering kiss on your soft lips, "Goodnight, my love. I'll see you tomorrow."

As you made your way to your room, he felt a swell of affection watching you turn for one last wave before disappearing inside. He missed you already, and as much as he would have loved to hold you close all night, he knew that waiting until your proper wedding night to share the same bed was the right decision. For now, this was more than enough. After all, he had the rest of his life to spend with you.

"Thank goodness the ointment has been remarkably effective. I don't think you need to harbour any insecurities about your appearance anymore. Lady Park, you look beautiful." said Physician Jung as he arrived to assess the condition of your skin. Having you apply the medicine he prepared for some time, he recognised that his work here would soon be done.

Eunsook couldn't contain the grin on her face at the slight pink dusting your cheeks from the doctor's compliment, suddenly relieved that her master was not around. Lord knows how unamused he would have been to hear any of that or see your reaction.

"Yes, thank you, Yunho. She's always been ravishing with or without your ointment. I think your job here is done; it's my turn to enhance this beauty. Head over to the general's study for your pay if that's all," The doctor couldn't resist rolling his eyes at the dressmaker's dramatic entrance, "It's nice to see you too, Hongjoong."

With a dismissive wave, he shrugged off the sarcastic greeting from his tall friend, saying, "I'll catch up with you soon; I have work to do." Left with no other choice, Yunho offered one final bow to you before leaving your room with a maid escorting him out.

Closing the distance between you, the dressmaker swiftly retrieved the new hanbok he had made specifically for the special occasion today, declaring, "Now, who is ready to outshine all the princesses in the palace? It's you, Lady Park!"

"Outshine the princesses? I d-don't think that's a good idea—"

He interrupted you before you could finish your protest, "Nonsense! I promised General Park to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon." With a small giggle, you sighed in defeat and allowed him to work his magic with the assistance of the head maid as they coordinated your appearance for your visit to the palace.

Today marked the day you and Seonghwa were meeting the King and Queen to discuss the details of your wedding ceremony in-depth, as well as allowing the royal couple to finally meet you after having heard so much about you. Even without having seen you, they already adored you from the stories your husband had shared. Not to mention, their hearts ached, especially after learning about your nightmarish childhood.

Seated at the vanity table, you gazed at your reflection in amazement as Eunsook worked on your hair and makeup, with Hongjoong providing expert advice and guidance. Just as the elderly woman was about to conceal the remaining faint scars on your face as she had always done, the dressmaker intervened, "No, wait. Leave the one on her forehead as it is; I have an idea."

With his extensive knowledge of fashion and beauty, he had always been intrigued by the Chinese makeup style, which incorporated temporary tattoos. Specifically, he was drawn to the idea of a small flower design painted onto women's foreheads.

Rather than covering your marks, he opted to transform them into an accessory that would improve your overall looks. With this distinctive look, you were bound to capture attention from all directions, not that your beauty didn't already achieve that. Now, you would stand out wherever you went, even within the palace grounds where princesses and royal concubines were always impeccably dressed.

Waiting by the entrance, Seonghwa turned when he recognised the sound of your dainty footsteps approaching. He didn't miss his assistant's awestruck expression, taking in your appearance from behind him, "Finally, Hongjoong's taken way too long..."

As you stepped into full view, his words trailed off, and his gaze fixed on you with a mix of astonishment and sheer admiration. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn't find the words to express what he felt. You had always been beautiful in his eyes, but his friend had truly outdone himself this time.

The most significant difference that caught the general's attention was the little red flower on your forehead, right between your eyes. That delicate design elegantly covered one of the scars you bore from your past. It was a stroke of genius from the dressmaker, turning a mark of pain into a unique and striking accessory that enhanced your natural beauty.

Your husband approached you, his eyes never leaving yours. Finally finding his voice, he whispered, "You look breathtaking, my love," before gently reaching up to trace the edge of the flower on your forehead, his touch soft and filled with so much love, "Hongjoong, you've done wonders."

The dressmaker grinned proudly and nodded in agreement, "I know, I always do."

Throughout the journey to the palace, the general found it hard to divert his gaze from you, just as you were captivated by the passing scenery outside. The roads to the palace differed from the usual routes leading to town, explaining your intrigue. As he admired your beautiful face, an unexpected desire surged within him to take you back home and shield you from others' eyes. A sudden uncertainty about wanting anyone else to see you overcame him. A selfish impulse urged him to keep you all to himself.

Before he could entertain the impulsive idea of turning the carriage around, Jongho had already announced their arrival. This time, Eunsook didn't bother to stand by and assist you down, instead waiting expectantly as the general smoothly helped you in one swift movement, determined to keep you close.

Having been here more than enough, Seonghwa knew this place might appear beautiful on the inside but could be very dangerous at the same time. People here might seem nice but rarely could be trusted, particularly the women. Well aware of this, he hesitated to let you wander off alone, despite your status as his wife. You were easily recognisable as Lady Park from a distance, anyone would have to be insane to dare mess with you.

Even so, he had no intention of leaving your side for even a moment. Palace servants passing by bowed deeply at both of you, and you did your best to maintain the poise of a noblewoman as practised with the head maid. The last thing you wanted was to make your husband look bad in here.

As you both approached the hall for the meeting with His and Her Majesty, the royal secretary rushed out to intercept the two of you. Almost as if your husband had jinxed it, San exclaimed, "There you are, General Park! We have a bit of a situation right now. Your immediate presence is required at an emergency meeting."

"But my wife—"

Finally realising you were present, the secretary bowed, "Oh, right, Lady Park! We're all aware you're here to discuss your wedding arrangements, but this really cannot wait. Even His Majesty is currently in this meeting expecting you. Would it be alright if we have your wife waiting by the cherry blossom garden? We'll have the servants prepare her some refreshments."

As much as Seonghwa detested the sudden change of plans, he acknowledged that he was left with no choice upon sensing the urgency in San's demeanour. With a nod of defeat, he agreed, "Okay, fine. Eunsook, please stay by the mistress' side at all times."

She nodded with a bow, "Of course, master."

Turning to you with a regretful frown etched on his brows, he said, "I'm sorry for having to leave you alone, my love. I'll come back to you as quickly as I can, I promise."

You shook your head with an understanding smile, "Don't worry about me, Seonghwa. I'll be fine. Your work is more important. Now hurry and go. Don't make His Majesty wait." Sighing lightly, he pecked you on the head before rushing off with the royal secretary.

"Lady Park, please come with us. We will guide you to the cherry blossom garden."

A team of palace maids appeared before you, showing you as much respect as they would towards royalty. Your status and reputation were well-known nationwide; you were favoured not only by your husband but also by the King and Queen themselves. No one would dare to disrespect you for fear of dire consequences.

Their dedication was evident in the top-tier hospitality as they led you to the enchanting garden, unlike anything you had ever seen. After thanking them politely, they prepared a seat for you in one of the pavilions within the vast garden, serving a tray of tea and some sophisticated-looking snacks.

Boredom eventually set in, and you glanced at one of the palace maids standing ready by the pavilion for any orders you might have for her, "Excuse me, would it be okay for me to take a walk around the garden?"

"Oh, certainly, Lady Park! Feel free to explore the garden as you please. Would you like any of us to accompany you?" Smiling and glancing at Eunsook, you declined, "No, thank you. We'll manage on our own. We won't be gone too long; you have my word."

"Thank you, Lady Park. Your assurance is appreciated; we'll await your return here." They bowed deeply as you and the head maid began your leisurely stroll.

As you wandered through the picturesque garden, marvelling at the vibrant colours of the flowers, you inadvertently caught the eye of a stranger who happened to be nearby. Your beauty, accentuated by the mark on your forehead, captivated the attention of this mysterious figure. What intrigued him even more was the unmistakable childlike innocence reflected in your eyes.

From a distance, he observed you with awe. The way you carried yourself, the genuine delight on your face as you admired the flowers and scenery—it all conveyed a sense of authenticity. Unlike anyone he had encountered, you seemed untouched by pretentiousness or spoiled airs.

Driven by an unexplainable urge to get closer, the stranger slowly made his way towards you, navigating through the enchanting garden. His curiosity was piqued, and he couldn't resist the desire to learn more about the intriguing woman who had captured his attention.

Unaware of the approaching figure as you immersed yourself in the beauty of the flowers, a clearing of the throat behind you signalled his presence. Eunsook, recognising the newcomer, widened her eyes and began to bow, but he gestured for her to remain silent with a finger against his lips and a subtle shake of his head.

Interrupting the tranquillity, the unexpected deep voice spoke, "It's beautiful, isn't it? Do you know what cherry blossoms symbolise?"

Startled, you turned to find a handsome man dressed elegantly, smiling down at you. After a moment of surprise, you nodded, "I do. I've read that they symbolise purity and beauty."

The man acknowledged, "That's right, much like you, my lady."

Concern flickered in the head maid's eyes, realising that the stranger might be unaware of your identity and possibly attempting to make a romantic gesture. Before matters could escalate, she decided to intervene, "Allow me to express our deepest respect, Your Highness. This is Lady Park, the esteemed wife of General Park. Mistress, may I present to you Prince Yeosang."

« Preview of Part 12 »

Seonghwa's eyes widened as they approached the War and Strategy Department building, where soldiers were marching about hastily, "Wait a minute, don't tell me—"

The royal secretary had no time to explain as he pulled the general into the meeting room where all military officials were seated and awaiting anxiously. The King, positioned in the middle of the room, sighed deeply upon noticing your husband's arrival.

"You're here, General Park. Is your wife also in the palace?" His Majesty asked, rubbing his head to alleviate an oncoming headache.

Seonghwa nodded in confirmation and inquired, "Yes, she is. She's waiting by the cherry blossom garden as we speak. Now, tell me. What is it? What has happened?"

With regret in his eyes, the King grimaced, "I'm so sorry, my boy. It seems your wedding will have to wait. Relations with the neighbouring nation, Ruhon, have not been very good lately. I fear war is inevitable this time, and... we need you."

Just wanted to make it clear that Ruhon is a fictional country. I've thought about it and decided it's probably best not to use real places for fear of offending anyone.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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occamstfs · 6 months

Text

Coast Guard Compensation

Here's another military TF, delinquent disrespects the Coast Guard and finds definitely sub-standard civilian processing -Occam

Marcus was being issued a simple ticket for drinking while driving a boat. That would’ve been the end of it if he had just shut his mouth. Unfortunately his brother was not quick enough to prevent him from tearing into the officer. Before he even begins to return to his boat Marcus is shouting at the officer swearing that he shouldn’t even have the authority to issue tickets. That he knows better than some doofus elinstee. He tosses the ticket into the sea as he continues to shout, “this is just bullshit dude! You’re just taking it out on us to feel like a man huh? Couldn’t even do well enough in boot camp to make the Army so you’ll make it all our problem!”

Ensign Harrison’s eyes followed the litter as it blew into the ocean before returning to the still shouting man. Harrison’ smirks as he approaches Marcus who despite being at least a foot shorter continues on his tirade. Jacob has seen his brother get this fired up before but nothing like this. He could only gawk as brother continued to shout vitriol as the officer approached to tower over him, Jacob could not even think to move or intervene.

Harrison lifts Marcus by the collar and simply states, “on top of driving while intoxicated you have also littered into the fine blue sea, and verbally assaulted an officer. Under the authority invested in me by the US Coast Guard I am going to take you back to the station.” Marcus rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to retort but is tossed like a sandbag into the USCG boat. The Ensign briefly scowls at Jacob, who despite being sure this is not appropriate, can not bring himself to take any action against the man who is by all intents kidnapping his brother.

Having established his dominance he returns to his boat to accost the problem at hand. He speeds away in his boat hearing nothing but the boat cutting through the wind and crashing through the waves. The toss seems to have knocked Marcus unconscious, to the sick pleasure of the man driving the boat. Though as they near shore, he comes to and begins anew the derision of his captor. He groans out a “you fuckin’ glorified beach cop…” To which Harrison just smirks in retort, grabbing the only barely conscious Marcus into his patrol car and starts driving back to the station.

He stares at Marcus in the rearview mirror and once he sees the glimmer of conscious return he finally offers a reply, “you don’t know what yer talkin’ about kid.” Marcus squints his eyes at the officer driving his car, knowing something weird was occurring. Something so far out of his hands was happening to him and he needed to use everything in his power to have some curve on the ball. The dick in front of him was arresting him against his will and he was not going to go down without a fight. He is going to use the only weapon afforded to him and use his mouth.

“Really, you must’ve done pretty bad to flunk out of the naval academy right? Their best guys are absolute dullards and you didn’t even make it to step one I bet.” Ensign Harrison’s scowl grows deeper as he pulls the car over. Marcus, refusing to let the chance slip by, turns it up even more. If he can get Harrison to open his door he just needs to bolt. “Oooh scary, bet you feel like a big guy huh! You got a five foot flat guy ten years younger than you in your backseat. I bet you’re just fantasizing about what you can do to me, you fashy pig! You fuckin-” Harrison clears his throat interrupting as Marcus sees veins start to bulge out of his neck and his eyes darken in the rear view mirror. He starts the car going once more and says, “think it’s best if you apologize kid. Ain’t nuthin’ good gonna come out of you talkin’ shit.”

Marcus scrambles to think what his next move should be. Obviously, fashy pig he may be, but Harrison was correct in that the only rational thing to do would be apologize. Harrison even wants to, but any time he even starts to open his mouth to do so his entire throat goes dry and his head burns hot. It distracts him. It angers him. He was going to? What was he? No, he certainly wasn’t going to apologize. To the asshole who ruined his fishing trip, absolutely not.

Harrison’s eyes continue to glower as he exits the car to retrieve Marcus, who in turn observes everything he can about the Coast Guard Station before he’s pulled out. Seeing cameras he starts to hatch a plan before he hears the door slam open and the thought of Harrison disrespecting their equipment is suddenly the only thing in his mind. Jesus that oaf, he’s making them look like even more of a joke than they are. Harrison’s face burns red as he reads nothing but a look of derision in response to this blatant attempt at intimidation.

Marcus quickly tries to escalate, taunting the trooper, “we’re on camera now fash! What’re you gonna do huh, hope you’re ready to-“ He was cut off as a hand is quickly thrust on his neck, a move he was all too familiar with, though he would vastly prefer to be on the other side. He struggles out a performative moan as the hand grows tighter moving up towards his jaw, before breaking out into coughing laughter.

True rage appears in Ensign Harrison’s eyes as he pushes Marcus’ head down into the seat, spitting on his face before letting him go. Still leaning over Marcus, he talks through his teeth, “That’s it you fucker. Hope your little jokes were worth it. You’ve had every chance and you’ve run your fuckin’ mouth. Clearly someone needs to set you straight.”

Finally getting out a sentence without being interrupted, he looks to see an expression of hunger on Marcus’ spit-covered face. Not what he expected and certainly not what he wanted, and as he glances further down he sees an even less pleasant sign growing in Marcus’ swim shorts as a boner swiftly becomes impossible to miss. As Marcus regains his breath he chokes out a “that’s all you got?” To which Harrison begins to feel a heat in his own crotch that is met with both self-derision and an eagerness for the kid to be gone.

Starting to feel out of his depth, despite ostensibly being in charge, Harrison leads Marcus in, taking great care to hide the growing cock in his uniform, which Marcus neglects to attempt, letting his own swing in his shorts. Upon getting inside he leads Marcus to an unoccupied office and locks the door behind him, demanding he stay there and keep his hands off everything while Harrison finishes processing him.

This was beyond irresponsible, but he cannot stand being near the delinquent one second longer, and something about Marcus now makes him think that it’s fine if he’s in this office. Marcus rolls his eyes and agrees though as soon as the lock turns his hands are in a desk drawer. Before he snoops though he wonders about how empty the station is, weird that he didn’t see a single other soldier right? Must be why the pig was trying to flex so hard on him and his brother, trying to hide what a pathetic joke this operation is.

He also briefly thinks about making a break for it, before remembering that Harrison has a gun on his belt. He hasn’t pulled it on him yet but surely as soon as he got the chance to shoot at a runner he’d probably blow his load. He rolls his eyes thinking how Harrison must be compensating. He’s sure all soldiers are, anyone so obsessed with guns and power clearly has something going on.

As he continues this line of thought though, he can’t help but feel that, well, but wouldn’t he want a gun too? Just to have that power? Or just in case? As he thinks about the weight of a gun in his hands he finally remembers that he is rooting around in a desk, as his hands find purchase on what can only be a weighty wallet. He smirks as he palms it thinking of the schmuck Navy flunkee whose credit card is gonna buy him and his brother lunch once he’s out of here. Marcus starts to go through it looking for anything particularly juicy to nab. He hunches over the wallet, conspicuously hiding something, though no one is there to see him.

He shoves the cash into his pocket and finds a license, his eyes glaze over as he tries to look at the name and photo of the man. Not that he cares really though, soldiers are all the same. He continues to hunch and as he does so his back begins growing wider, as if he’s willing it to hide his deeds better. His button up starts to get in the way of his movements so he starts to unbutton it as he feels an itch on the face. He realizes, god, he never wiped that pig’s spit off his face.

His shirt now hanging unbuttoned on his wider shoulders, he raises his arm to wipe whatever surely steroid-filled dried spit remains on his face and finds nothing but a face that is decidedly rougher than it should be. Day on the beach must have been pretty rough on his skin. Maybe he did overdo it today? I mean what was he doing drinking on the job anyway. He pauses before correcting himself, fishing, he was just fishing today. He groans and spins in the desk chair, fuck he needs to get back out there. This room is giving him a headache or something.

It’s kinda hot in here too? Bet that fucker turned up the heater to torture me. Marcus shoves the wallet in his back pocket and goes to stand and inspect other parts of the room before immediately falling over. As he lies on the floor his sweaty chest grows even larger, his traps expand to strain the now unbuttoned shirt as sweaty pecs force themselves into existence pressing into the cold tile floor. Then greater than anything else he feels the wallet pressing against his ass. He might not have noticed how much his upper body has grown, but his legs certainly have and if they want to support it, they need to grow.

He moans to himself. His thighs fill his swim trunks enough to make one wonder how he could even get them on. His ass grows enough to make it clear that the only way they’re coming off is to be ripped off. His bulge on the other side endeavors to make headway to this end as his cock forces its way down his pant leg and his balls swell over twice their size trying to keep up the testosterone production this body demands.

He struggles to his feet, making careful movements as to not burst open his pants then and there. Not to be deterred from his M.O. he hobbles over to a bookshelf and continues to investigate. Marcus sees a bunch of dusty tomes that feel vaguely familiar, though he of course would never want nor need to read whatever droll garbage lies inside of them. Finally he remembers just how bizarre his situation is. What the fuck is he doing? He’s literally being processed for an arrest, or whatever these knock-off cops are gonna do, and he’s just gonna steal some actually important guy’s wallet?

Neglecting to inspect how knows the importance of whoever’s office this is, he instead trains his eyes on the bookshelf. Marcus finds himself eye level with the highest shelf which he knows was not possible when he walked in. He would’ve had to jump to grab any of these books and now he can reach them flat footed. He starts to look down and see just what is happening but as he does there’s another hot flash and he leans against the shelf in pain. God! This fuckin’ place, needs to fix the fuckin’ AC or something. He pushes back against the wall not noticing he stands even taller now as a breeze wicks sweat off his ever more exposed midriff and torso and he sees a conspicuously not dusty manual.

Weird, he’s up to date on all his regulations yeah? He pulls it off, knocking dust loose from the surrounding tomes, causing him to sneeze, his neck bursting wide enough to tear shirt open were it not unbuttoned. His vocal chords thicken as he clears his throat and returns to sit down at the desk. He opens the book wondering what’s so special about this manual, causing a picture to fall to the floor.

He laughs as he grabs it and finds it is a compromising picture of Ensign Harrison. He smirks wondering just what he has stumbled into as he finds himself absorbed into the image. His eyes can’t help but trace the strong curves and powerful muscles of his, the Ensign’s body. His cock gets the messages and finally grows enough to tear a hole in the side of his swim trunks and hsi free hand immediately goes to paw it. God, he needs to see Harrison like this in real life. Drool begins to pool in his mouth as he continues to drink in the image. It spills down his chin as he sees the look of begging in Harrison's eyes, when there is suddenly a scuffle at the door.

Mark takes the second he has to hide the photograph and rip his hand off his painfully erect dick, as Harrison bursts into the room. Nonplussed as ever he looks with a sneer at Marcus with no reaction that he looks any different than when he was booked. Under his breath he complains that Mark’s clothes are far too tight for any respectable man before. He can’t hide the blush on his face though as he asks Mark to button up his shirt before getting to the real purpose he came in, “You didn’t give me your ID uh, kid?” His eyes glaze over at the incongruity of calling the man before him kid and he blushes as Mark sneers at him in return. Raising his sharpening jaw in disdain he produces the I.D. of the Coast Guard officer in his pocket without a second thought and offers it to Harrison.

The Ensign goes to grab it, sniffing the air as he does so and making a clear face of discomfort. Marcus doesn’t notice how he smells, not his problem, if lesser men are bothered so be it. But Harrison makes haste to leave the room, on his way out saying “You better not get your stink on the furniture, ki-, uh, Sir.” Angry at himself for calling that delinquent sir he slams the door and locks it once more, leaving Mark alone in the room, his erection pulsing even larger at being called Sir.

That ball buster needs to learn his fuckin’ place, Mark thinks, I’m in charge here after all. Or? Hm. I mean I pay his wage right, tax-payers and all. Something like that. He rubs his scratchy, sharper jaw as he feels his clothes near their limit. He pauses to decide which drawer to raid next. He settles on the top left drawer and as soon as he does he slams it open only to jump back in shock, his body flexing and tensing as he hears something heavy loudly slam into the back of the open drawer. His biceps rip apart his sleeves as reaches into the drawer and feels ice cold carbon steel. His left arm burns as tattoos he doesn’t remember getting begin to stain his whole arm. He pulls out a gun, His Gun, and begins to inspect it.

He feels a regulation mustache push out of his upper lip, the one he’s always had right? He feels the burn of more ink appear on his torso as it begins to grow shredded. He feels the lengthy hair cut he has always been proud of pull into his head, leaving nothing but a high and tight that can only display the void of a personality that the military demands. He feels the weight of the gun in his hands not noticing as his clothes begin to reform around him. Good thing he got those stupid dress clothes off, he’s at work. He needs to be in uniform.

The scraps of his dress shirt cling back to him and turn into the same respectable military green of any branch. He feels a nylon shirt cling to his sweaty pecs as a thicker top slides over his biceps, struggling to keep them contained. His attention is drawn, as it often is, straight to his cock as he feels his torn swim trunks grow into silkies that are only just able to hide his impressive bulge. He is able to stuff it down the leg of his trousers as they form around his impossibly thick thighs, though even a passing observer would be able to see the beer can running down his leg. His pants are already custom made to fit his ass and thighs, it’s not like he can, or even wants to, hide his masculinity any more. He is thankful though that his, may as well be kevlar, boxers keep him from constantly staining his pants with pre.

Still rubbing his cock through his pants, he releases the unloaded magazine of the gun and moans as wrinkles begin to form under his steely eyes. He absolutely fills his pants with pre and nearly finishes the job before there is another knock at the door. He groans as his body grows once more in agitation, his veins bulging out in aggression as a definitely not regulation beard pushed out of his jaw. But he’s in charge here. He’ll get it back to reg as soon as those fuckers start giving him some respect.

Before waiting for an answer Harrison bursts in, preparing to continue his little power trip, though as he sees the man sitting at the desk, gun drawn and more importantly now in uniform, he can do nothing but salute and shout “Captain, uh! Sir!”

Absolutely not ready or willing to set him at ease Mark gets up and begins to walk over. Captain huh, he likes that. The Captain walks up to Harrison and starts to tease his Ensign. His already deeper voice grows gravelly and gruff as he rubs his thumb across the saluting soldier's jaw, “Now Harry, I don’t believe I gave you permission to enter, did I?” Harrison gulps as The Captain continues, “Now are you here now on business, or is there something else I can do for you?” Harrison glances down to the impossible bulge in his captain’s pants, causing Mark to smirk and all-too-familiarly launch his hand to his Ensign’s jaw. He forces Harrison to make eye contact with him. He gulps once more as he hears the fabric stretch in The Captains pants and his face grows red. He shuts his eyes, feeling his own cock instantly surge into an erection. “I- uh, there was a call, sir!”

The Captain’s look of hunger changes slightly and he grins, “a call hm? At ease, Soldier.” Harrison collapses against the door, his eyes still closed, lest he cum on the spot from seeing The Captain in front of him. Mark then leans over him to whisper to him, his breath tickling the neck of the Ensign, “Now, why don’t we go show these fuckin’ delinquents just what business the US Coast Guard means hm?” Harrison’s eyes open as his body convulses, cumming as he slides down the door, moaning in shame. In turn The Captain stands and prepares to go gather some more recruits, the station has been awfully quiet recently. Just him and pathetic little Harrison, they could use some fresh blood, which he will inevitably gather at whatever bonfire or fishing crew they are about to raid...

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #military tf #muscle tf

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 30 days

Text

breaking news!

pairing: milf! reader x pre-re2 leon

cws/tags: protected p in v, virginity loss, leon cumming immediately, coming untouched, talking about past somno (implied to be consensual), presumably established relationship, no description of reader beyond cis female who has had a child and is older than leon, reader POV, no use of y/n

summary: leon doesn't wanna die a virgin! shit goes down in july '98 (bizarre murders occur in raccoon city etc. you know the monologue), and leon sees it on the news, decides he's gotta fuck before he becomes a cop fr.

a/n: this is part 3 to cool mom's countdown. i wasn't sure how to tag some stuff bc it's like they're having sex rn but reader is thinking about stuff they've done in the past too, so it's kinda a little time-skipping sometimes. (past things are italicized for your reading pleasure)

wc: 1.7k

taglist: @onlyasimp4-2dbitches @puppedup @nilpill @sya-skies @shiawaseorii

@rigorwhoring @porcelainseashore

@tieabowaroundme @frankieeeeesblog @kerredgraveblog

join my taglist! purchase a commission!

At first, your relationship with Leon made you feel old -- all of the pop culture references you’d make flew over his head, and you realized how out of the loop you were when it came to modern slang when you had to ask Leon for the definition of approximately one word per sentence he spoke. While miscommunications arose through conversations, you were in sync when it came to sex.

In the proverbial bedroom, Leon made you feel young again. After work one Friday night, you made out on the couch until you insisted that you needed to freshen up before your movie date, and ended up sitting on the bathroom counter with Leon’s head between your thighs, and, to pay him back, you jerked him off in the theater.

You’d been together for a good six months before you finally went all the way. You told Leon from the beginning that you wouldn’t have sex with him until he was 100% sure he was ready. A sweet boy like him deserved to have a good first time.

After a gourmet meal of macaroni and cheese plus whatever else you could find in the cabinet, the two of you shared a six pack on the back porch while watching the sun set over the suburbs. It was romantic, minus the topic of conversation -- everyone was talking about the bizarre murders in the Arklay Mountains which weren’t far from where you lived. Leon was glued to the TV, watching updates as they appeared on the news over the course of the past week.

It was disturbing enough to hear the outlandish reports of families being attacked by a group of about 10 people, but the victims were apparently eaten. And, you couldn’t bear the thought of Leon being a member of that STARS team that went missing.

Leon had always been insistent on joining the force, but being forced to actively accept your own mortality can be a scary experience for even the bravest. However, Leon’s biggest fear wasn’t death itself.

“I keep seeing those cops on the news -- the ones from the RPD who died and I don’t wanna die a virgin.”

“What?” His train of thought blew past about 10 stops before arriving at its destination, it seemed. You struggled to put the pieces together.

“That’ll be me pretty soon -- well, not necessarily dead, hopefully not, just part of the RPD, I mean. But, since there’s a real chance I could die, I would like to lose my virginity.”

Talking about death put a bit of a damper on the mood, but Leon could get you riled up in the most inappropriate of situations.

“I told you we can do it whenever you’re ready,” you said nonchalantly.

“What I meant was, I’m ready now.”

Your first instinct was to look down towards the front of his jeans.

“Mentally,” he clarified when he saw you checking for a bulge in his pants.

You swiftly led him up to your bedroom and by the time your lips were on his neck, he was physically ready for you too. Leon’s a sucker for hickies. Pun intended.

“It makes me feel like I’m yours,” he mentioned one night, wearing a stupid grin and smudged lipstick - both courtesy of you.

“You are mine,” you said, cupping his cheek, “and I’m yours.”

“Then, can I give you one too?”

He shouldn’t. You already felt out of place at the neighborhood book club, and you didn’t want Karen and Cheryl (or whatever their names are) to think you’re a complete whore.

Fuck it. They could stare all they wanted. Bring on their jealousy-fueled disgust.

You exposed your neck to Leon and let him suck lightly at the skin. As it turned out you liked them quite a bit too.

When you told Leon he was yours and vice versa, you meant it, but tonight you were really going to seal the deal.

It was a dance of tipsy fumbling around as one’s first time should be. Giggling while barely holding yourselves back from ripping each other’s clothes off.

“You’re so needy,” you whispered into his ear, though you were the one palming him through his underwear.

“No... you’re just hot... I can’t help being like this around you.”

“Yeah? Then how do you think I feel around a handsome young man like you?” You took his hand and gently guided him to feel your arousal through your panties.

He inhaled sharply, and you felt his needy cock twitch against your hand which had yet to slip inside his boxers. Poor thing, he was always so desperate.

Not that you minded – not even when you’d wake up in the middle of the night to him rutting his hips into you from behind. He did this often in his sleep – he thought it was embarrassing, but you thought it was endearing. He’d mumble your name and coax your hand back to his hard-on if you ever dared to retract it.

Leon hooked his fingers in the fabric of your panties and slid it to the side, teasing your folds with his touch.

In retaliation and reward, you took his length in your hand, planning to give him the same languid, tantalizing strokes he was giving you. But he grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Wait-” he said, breath shaky with what you assumed to be nerves.

You backed off completely. “Leon, I’m so sorry. If you’re not ready tonight, we can do this some other-”

“-I’m ready, too ready. Just thinking about getting to be inside you is making me feel... really good already, so, um, if you touch me like that, I might not be able- I might cum before I can actually... you know...”

“Fuck me?” God, it was so cute how flustered he’d get over the simplest things.

“Yeah, fuck you.” He couldn’t curse in front of you without blushing. It took him a while to adjust to calling you by your first name instead of ‘ma’am’, so you couldn’t blame him for feeling awkward cursing around you. The redness in his cheeks only rose when he realized how his statement - fuck you - could’ve been interpreted.

“No, wait, not fuck you, I mean, I wanna fuck you... in a good way. I wanna make you feel good,” he clarified.

“Then come here,” you lied back on the bed and beckoned him closer.

“Yes, ma’am.” Typical. You had to resist the urge to call him a ‘good boy’, knowing those words alone might make him cum in his pants.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Once, while he was going down on you -- on his knees at the edge of your bed, his favorite position -- you told him how he was such a good boy for making you feel so good, and though his hands remained gripping your thighs, holding them open so he could bury his face in your cunt, your orgasm triggered his, and he came completely untouched.

You grabbed a condom from your bedside table -- you were on the pill, and neither of you were seeing anyone else, but you were pretty sure that his cock wouldn’t make it inside you if you told him he could fuck you raw -- and you handed him the packet.

“Do you know how to do it?”

“Yeah, they made us try putting them on bananas in health class.”

“Thank your health teacher for me, then, will you?”

“Um, I don’t know if Mr-”

“I’m kidding, baby.”

“This is no time for joking around. You’re breaking my concentration,” he said, but his smile betrayed any facade of seriousness.

When he successfully put it on, you said, only half-joking, “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Don’t say that,” he said -- no, whined.

“Why not?”

“Gonna make me cum too quick.”

If only he knew that his bashfulness, his pretty, whiny voice, and his desperation were going to make you cum quicker than you usually would.

“Okay. I won’t say anything.”

“At least tell me if I’m doing it right, like, if I’m putting it in the right hole.”

“You’re doing fine so far.”

He nodded and took a breath before positioning himself at your entrance. When he pressed the tip inside you, you moaned simultaneously. You wanted to beg him to keep going, you wanted to feel all of him, but you knew you needed to let him set the pace.

“You feel so good, you’re so tight...” His thoughts were mostly tame, things you’d heard men say before but he was so genuine, couldn’t even help running his mouth -- until his words were reduced to nothing but moans. Pornographic, pathetic, sexy.

When he’d finally buried himself to the hilt, he stilled his hips, keeping both of your orgasms at bay. Your hands never left his body because you couldn’t get enough of him, not even when he was entirely inside you. You thought you were being gentle but the marks left on his skin said otherwise.

Eventually, he began to thrust in and out of you slowly, and you could see that he was holding himself back.

“Leon, baby, you know you can go as slow or as fast as you want, yeah?”

“I wanna go faster but if I do, I’m gonna cum,” he said as if that wouldn’t be the hottest thing he could do.

“Yeah? I wanna see you cum, baby.”

“Fuck, really? Already?”

He didn’t wait for a response before he increased the pace of his thrusts rapidly, his hips leading and his mind following.

You tried to answer, but he was brushing against that sensitive spot inside you over and over again, so all you could manage was an ‘uh-huh’.

Frantically, he said, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” with a mixture of pleas and apologies. Neither of which you needed.

When he came, he threw his head back and let out an unbridled moan followed by labored breaths.

The sight of him sent you over the edge, scrambling for something to hold onto, your nails dug into his back. You nearly screamed his name as you shuddered through your high.

When you returned to reality, you saw complete bewilderment on Leon’s face. “Did you just cum?”

“Uh, yeah?” you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as you said it.

“I made you cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

Flopping down next to you, satisfied with himself, he asked, “Can we do that again?”

“Like right now?”

“Yeah, that was amazing.”

And you couldn’t agree more.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you

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miyacults · 8 months

Text

red, blue and yellow lights.

( ft. satoru gojo. )

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does Suguru has it in him to ever deny you anything and make you behave? Satoru doesn’t have that much power over you. Yet. It’s the other way around entirely. Usually, you have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers… but this time isn’t usual at all.

> part 2.

wc: 4k (unedited im soreeey)

cw: fem reader (afab). only gojo action here but poly satosugu is super implied. +18, explicit content. smut. minors do not interact. slight age gap, reader is younger than both of them but not much and is not stated at all. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be careful!!! rough sex/rough satoru. manhandling. slight hints at dacryphilia. slight chocking. marking (one hickey). unprotected sex, p in v sex. little mention of blood. that should be all! enjoy <3

It was raining the first day it happened—sky practically crying at the sight of you three, already sinking down in the problems to come for such a reckless call. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest ones, so they know better and they pride themselves with this fact. They’re smarter than the rest, both devastatingly attractive, even more so than anyone could ever imagine and…simply superior. But the first time they didn’t knew better.

Or they didn’t care to.

The second time shouldn’t have occurred. They should’ve weighed into the idea of not stumbling upon the same rock again—but they did it nonetheless. How couldn’t they? When the rock herself got the touch of angels, the voice of the gods and a face made in heaven. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same.

And so the third and the fourth come, and suddenly they stop counting how many more times have they been opening the gates of hell for you three to freely wander—toying with the risk of losing it all, as sorcerers always do. Stumbling upon a path of no recovery, stranding themselves into a new kind of addiction capable of surpassing that of what power and glory and the god-like status they hold has been pumping their veins for a while now.

Satoru likes to share everything with Suguru. And Suguru likes to share everything with Satoru. Where one goes, the other follows. If Satoru likes it sweet, then Suguru deals with the bitterness, and if Suguru wants it that way, Satoru will pave it himself without a second thought. They’ve been complementing each other for so long, it was only natural for this to happen.

For you, to happen.

But even them have their own ways of becoming addicted to you.

“Please,” you’re saying—sobbing, actually, clenched teeth chirping, violent tremors ripping inside your chest, glimmering tears staining dainty features—and Satoru already feels the weight of guilt swallowing him whole. Tense lips press each other firmly in a straight line, azure eyes shutting together as lithe fingers ghost the overly sensitive skin of his neck. “Please, ‘Toru—”

“No.”

He needs you to shut up, fast.

The name—his name—is hanging dangerously at the tip of your tongue, too close to being spilled out loud, too close to make an even bigger mess than the one he’s already sitting himself on.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you’re murmuring now against his sealed lips, small cries leaving your mouth, basically straddling his lap as you desperately try to adjust yourself over the growing bulge in his pants—bare, tight little cunt fluttering at the small friction. “I’ll behave, please, just let me ride your cock for a little while, please.”

“Oh, sweets,” Satoru heaves an exasperated sigh through a low, nervous chuckle, hands running through snowy hair crystal clear gaze finally fixing on you. “You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days, you know that? Suguru told me you were being a brat lately and I didn’t listen to him,”

He’s trying to play it off as best he can, sure, but this is adding up to his temper. His cock throbs painfully inside his trousers. He’s not even sure what time it is—maybe three, four in the morning? He doesn’t know. It’s quite hard to keep the track of time when you’re here to distract him of all the things he should be doing instead, when the blue cotton laced panties—the ones he gifted you like two weeks ago—that are supposed to be covering your greedy, insatiable pussy, are now stuffed in the pocket of his expensive, Tom Ford shirt.

It’s nearly impossible to focus when you’re rolling your hips, humping your needy clit and damping his pants with your juices, causing an unbearable explosion in his stomach, cock hard and full of precum you should be licking off of him.

You should be the one cleaning the mess, not him.

Satoru swallows dry, hands falling in a thump over the armchairs of the couch you’re both sitting at. It takes nearly all of his inhuman strength to keep them there, to not let them travel to the hem of your hiked up oversized shirt—Suguru’s shirt, if he recalls correctly—and place them over the heated flesh of your bare ass. It takes everything in him not to squeeze it, knead it, slap it until the skin is red and tender—an unique piece of art only he can make.

“Is that a yes?” You question eagerly, lashes fluttering and eyes sparkling in awe.

“No, baby.”

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does ever Suguru has it in him to deny you anything? How does he ever gets you to behave, to make you an obedient good girl? Suguru had you perfectly trained, bunch of rules memorized and practically burned into the tissues of your brain you could recite them in your sleep.

That didn’t stop Satoru from spoiling you rotten, so much it’s a difficult task to fuck the brat out of you every time you spend a few hours alone with him (as Suguru likes to say)—but even if baby gets whatever she asks for during her time with the white-haired man, when she is back with Suguru what Daddy says goes, instantly.

Because you’re just too perfect for them. The apple of their eyes, their pretty baby, perfection in all senses. It makes it easy for you to be awfully good, to sit prettily in Satoru’s lap all the time, spreading kisses all over his face as his enamoured sapphire eyes don’t leave yours—to sleep almost every night attached to Suguru’s chest as if he’s the incarnation of the oxygen you need to breathe.

But even with all of that—Satoru doesn’t have the same power over you, at least not yet. You have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers, manicured nails scratching him in what could be a tantrum. He’s incapable of dealing with you all alone, unable to resist your charms, he fails and falls for you hard. You make him sick, you push him off his highs with a mere, chaste kiss, you leave him hopeless to find a cure—pretty, colored sweets popping inside his mouth all tasting of you.

You’re the most powerful drug he has yet to fully taste, a completely new disease that infects his body, mind and soul, so corrosive it sets him on fire and turn his bones into ashes.

“But ‘T—,” you begin, and he has to cut you off immediately, preventing his name to touch your parted lips.

The name is the key—his name in your saccharine sweet tongue is what will lock him away in the gates of the hell you’ve helped create yourself.

“No,” he chastises now rather severely, unnaturally serious for someone like him, hoarse voice sticking at his dry throat. He glances at you firmly as he feels too sober to maintain his posture, hands still refusing to touch you and lips moving away from yours by an inch. “Did you forget how grounded you are, silly baby?” He scoffs, sardonic grin breaking his rather angelic features and turning him into something darker.

You frown.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,”

“You did,”

“I did not”

“Oh, but you are,” Satoru’s tone falls an octave, and suddenly you shiver. You’ve heard about it a couple of times in the past—Suguru has mentioned how, from time to time, those heavenly features of him darken, but to you, that sounds so out of character. ‘Toru is bubbly and jolly and he likes to teased and he even has sweets for dinner with you. To you, that can’t be fully true, right?

His tense muscles relax a little, just a little, as his gaze is dangerously fixed on you. Salty tears wither in your lashes and your cheeks, swollen lips now pouting at him for his harsh accusation and his cold tone. “‘Cause you’ve been naughty, baby, haven’t you?” He insists.

Something definitely shifts, but you notice it. It goes from his flaming eyes to the icy touch, to the calm breathing—previously heavy—, to the devious smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

And you think about what it has been.

Usually, Satoru would have fallen by now. Usually, he would have been already caging you between the couch and his body, pounding into you and brushing your cervix with the head of his thick cock, slapping at your ass, pinching your tits and biting your lips until they’re swollen and bruised. Usually, he would have been chanting about how good you feel, how insane you drive him, how weak he is to you.

Usually, by this time, things would’ve been getting to an end. Suguru would have entered the living room of the big house they both own, would have probably lifted you like a ragdoll out of Satoru’s lap and would have scolded you for your little tricks, for seeking such a lewd activity when you’ve been recovering from the flu, for coaxing the Strongest into your desires. Usually, Satoru would have been scolded too by his best friend, and you would have cried his name while being carried into the bed where you most definitely would have got lectured for your little shenanigans.

But this isn’t usual at all.

“N-No,” you murmur, bleary-eyed gaze blinking at Satoru.

“You sure?”

You don’t know. Are you? Are you really sure you haven’t been naughty? You shouldn’t be chided for anything by Satoru, right? Because Suguru’s been in a really good mood lately, he even peppered you with kisses before bed, tugged you in with his favorite blanket before laying by your side, and before that he made you dinner and watched an episode of the show you’re currently catching on with you while eating together.

“Are—,” you begin, and for some reason you stumble on your words, unsure about how to proceed. Being talked to like that by Satoru was so strange, he never chastised, about anything, ever. All of a sudden you don’t feel so bold anymore, you’re not quite certain you’ll get away with yours this time—and suddenly, Satoru’s touch doesn’t feel warm, his arms no longer being your favorite, cozy shelter, transforming into something icy, devious, darker. “A–Are you mad at me, babe?”

“Oh yeah, babe,” He repeats slowly, slender fingers finding your thighs, adjusting his grasp on you for the first time, hands pressing your skin with a little bit more of force than needed. “You call me babe a lot, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You blink at him, head lolling to the side briefly. Little mewl of surprise scaping your lips due to how strong he’s gripping your thighs—pads digging the flesh and all.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I do. Trust me, I do,”

“You want me to call you something else?”

He finds it amusing. The way your features crinkle in confusion, genuinely concerned for what he’s saying. It’s nice, he thinks, since he’s usually the one that’s dotting on you all the time—while you dot on your Daddy all the time.

“What is it that you call Suguru, sweetheart?” He asks almost conversationally, nose caressing your cheek delicately.

“Uh–huh,” you try to shift on his lap, backing a little from him, but Satoru catches you almost instantly—pushing your face against his torso forcefully. “He’s my Daddy,” you end up answering, voice a little muffled by his cashmere shirt.

And he yanks you up without notice, and you whine at the sudden movement.

“Mean” you scoff, the base of your hair being found by his ivory fingers. He catches the strands between them and tugs a little. “So mean!”

“Oh, I’m mean, I’m super mean,” he agrees with a devilish smile spreading from the tip of his lips to his full face. “But you know what you are? An ungrateful brat. And do you know what happens to spoiled, rude and ungrateful brats? They get punished by their daddies,”

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t get a chance to as he lifts both of you up from the couch and pushes you over the marble counter of the kitchen, whole body against the cold, solid surface. The action alone knocks a little cry from your chest, glistening tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. And he coos at the sight, he mocks you, looks and talks to you in such a patronizing way you’re complaining about how he can’t scold you, that he’s not Suguru.

“You’re not my D—,”

“Go on, finish that sentence, I dare you,” he warns, azure eyes going completely dark as he hovers over you, steady hands ripping you off of Suguru’s shirt. “I’ll make sure you’re not able to sit straight for a month,”

This time, you’re the one that swallows dry.

And, oh, the way your heart pounds violently inside your rip cage. The way your cunt throbs at the mere image of Satoru stripping himself off his clothes and his dreamy blue eyes don’t move an inch from you, the way your tummy flutters and heat descends all over your now naked body in awe—eagerly expecting his touch, awaiting for him, wanting him to take his way and completely obliterate you.

It’s exciting to push the boundaries a little, test the limits of what’s known and jump into the void. It’s dangerous—with Satoru, it’s unbelievably deadly—, but it sends sparks through your veins. It makes your heart roll, makes you want him even more than before.

You sniff, remnants of tears drying your heated cheeks and little squeals still rumbling through your throat.

“Aw, made our sweet princess cry,” Satoru coos at you, freeing his cock out of his trousers—and it’s worth drooling for, in all honesty, with his rosy pink shade and his angry blushed tip, with his irregularly large violet-like veins adorning both sides, and specially with the dim precum that shines beautifully under the kitchen lights.

He gives it a few pumps, and you can’t help but make grabby hands at him—whiny pout morphing your lips as the sobs return, but this time far from covering up the pain, tears now cracking neediness.

“I want you,” you hiccup as he gets closer, grabbing his shoulders as he positions himself over you.

And you feel him, ghosting the tip of his throbbing cock at your little hole, cold digits caressing your breasts—thumbs rolling your nipples and stealing a soft moan from your lips that Satoru catches quickly with his mouth, merging the two of you in a harsh kiss.

“Mhm,” he’s saying and you yelp, teeth biting at your swell and it’s rough, salty, streaks of crimson with a taste of iron coating him. “Now you want me? But I don’t think you deserve it at all,”

“‘Toru—,”

One slap, straight to your thigh.

“That’s not my name, is it?”

You’ve never felt this kind of exciting fire with him before. It had never been so…primal, so needy, so desperate, entire body jolting in anticipation and tummy in knots out of anticipation. It makes your heart vibrate rapidly behind the ribs, mouth practically watering at the sight of him spiraling in such a state because of you.

“You’re not gonna say it?” He insists, tongue catching your nipple. It’s cold and it sends shivers down your spine, provoking delicious shrieks that resonate in his ears and make his blood run faster. He drives the tip of his cock from the entrance, collecting all your juices and directing it to your puffy clit, all to start circling around the bud—one, two, three, four and more times in a nonstop motion.

It’s has you on edge, really. Body trembling and mind going hazy—all the previous lazy dry humping finally getting to your nerves, pussy clenching the air and hot breath colliding viciously against the lanky man.

“Please,” you beg, quivering under his touch. “Please, ‘Toru, I need you,”

“Not my name, sweet thing,” he sighs in a disappointed tone and, for a moment, you think he actually sounds sorry to prolongue this. But you know he isn’t. Not even close, not even a little bit. “Use the right word and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum tonight,”

The word is there, truth be told, dancing curiously at the insides of your mouth, gagging you up and completely searing his whole name.

It’ll just take a little push to make it go out.

“I—I,”

“Say it,” his hand runs to your neck, fingers wrapping around it and mouth printing an obscure mark to your chin—sucking violently at the skin, a combination of gritted teeth and bloodied lips.

He doesn’t stop the movements of his cock on your clit for a second, and you know he’s starting to get too sensitive himself—cracked groans rumbling from his chest, sloppy hips rolling and nearly slipping inside of your cunt once and for all. Your blood rushes to your ears, eyes shutting close as a new sobs rip through parted lips and delicated nails scratch the skin of his broad shoulders. Heat builds in your belly and you know you’re close—so close to cumming around nothing, merely by the fast friction of his throbbing cock over your clit.

And he notices it at the same you do, so he pulls out and flips you over the marble counter before you can reflect on what he’s doing.

“N–No! Sator—,”

“How empty is that pretty little head of yours, uh?” Condescending. His voice his painfully condescending, and so is his touch, so are his hands smacking your ass as the side of your face hits the counter. “You’re not cumming until you say the word,”

It’s a simple word, four letters that you have to spill, wrap your skilled tongue around it and push it through your swollen lips and into his ears. That is all you have to do. So you do.

“Daddy!” You finally yelp, vocal chords shaking the word out like a quake. It’s pathetic, even, how five simple letters merge into cries, becoming an incoherent mess that all can do is say it repeatedly. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. The name buries deeply in his ears and finds a home in the roots of his heart, forcing an explosion of something he can’t quite describe onto his veins. It reduces him to ashes, it revolves everything in his mind and suddenly—suddenly he’s back in control, suddenly he’s not a wandering dog anymore begging go you, suddenly he doesn’t turn into pieces for you to pick up.

Still, you drive him insane. Still, he’s weak to you. But you’re no longer in control and that fuels him like nothing will ever do.

And all your babbling keeps you from catching on his moves until he’s already sinking in your cunt roughly. You sob at the intrusion, pain exploding in your stomach and ache consuming you by the burning stretch.

“S-So good, baby, my baby is so good,” is all he grunts out, pressing his forehead into the back of your head.

He fucks you raw, more than he has ever done before. He fucks you so hard your limbs go numb and the only thing that stays clearly in your mind is that he’s also your Daddy now. He thrusts his hips into yours intensely, so much he basically has you bouncing the marble, and you scream so much it wouldn’t be a surprise if Suguru runs out of the room to make sure no one is slaughtering you, their sweet little princess.

It doesn’t take much after that for you to let go, with body and cervix bruised by his hands and cock, cumming within minutes of hips thrusting into your tiny hole. And he fucks you full of his cum, too. Too many times for you to properly remember the exact number, too much that you feel it dripping from your cunt, all over your thighs and into the counter—marble stained with the sticky substance. And he doesn’t stop at that, either, not until your face, your breasts, your belly and both your holes are so full of his cum you’re close to drooling it, too.

.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.

“You left a whole damn hickey on her face, dude,” Suguru’s snickering and he sounds so grumpy as he checks out your sleeping figure curled around his torso, sulky eyes finding the ones of his best friend to recrminate not so silently. “I’m not even that sure is a hickey. That looks like a goddamn punch straight to the jaw,” He then glances down at Satoru, who leans against the wall of the living room, eyebrows raised and lips chopping mindlessly around a cigarette. “Did you punched my baby?”

“Shut up,” Satoru snorts, crystal eyes rolling in annoyance. “Aren’t ya seeing that smile on her face? She’s sleeping like a baby, thanks to me. And she finally has some respect for me, so, we both win,”

“Pretty sure she had things to do early today,” Suguru mumbles, one hand holding the cigarette and the other mindlessly caressing your back above the shirt—Satoru’s shirt now—that covers your frame. “And in the afternoon, too. Guess we gotta let her sleep,”

“Agree,” Satoru walks to both of you, a shit eating grin flashing his features. “Let her rest and gain some energy. She’ll need it to give a warm morning to her favorite Daddy,”

And Suguru has something to say about that—because he’s sure his the favorite Daddy. But now Satoru thinks the same, too.

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carmenberzattosgf · 8 months

Note

please expand on the cockwarming thing im CURIOUS

I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED ANON!!! Biggest shout out to @hrryshoney for helping me flesh out this idea ily

Warnings: cockwarming and consensual somno under the cut!

I think Carmen is low key obsessed with cock warming. The feeling of you wrapped around him– he could spent HOURS in your cunt.

If he’s in his office late working? He’s going to ask you to sit on his cock until he’s done with paperwork. It’s almost routine. You take off your pants, pull your underwear to the side, and sink down onto his cock. You bury your face in his neck while you try not to squirm around him. Oh and he’s quick to correct you if you do squirm a bit too much. “Be a good girl and stay still.” If you’re misbehaving, he’ll even hold you hips still with his strong hands.

I just think he loves behind inside of you. He loves being close to you at all times. You two could be sitting on the couch watching tv and he would call you over to sit on his lap. Sometimes… this ends with him fucking you hard on the couch, but other times it’s just so he can hold you and feel close to you.

Now for the idea that has been giving me serious brain rot. You brought it up to Carmy that you would be okay with him using you in your sleep. He’s hesitant as hell about it. He’s scared he’ll hurt you or make you uncomfortable. You reassure him that you’re okay with it, but Carmy just kinda keeps it in the back of his head for awhile.

That is until he gets back really really late one night from work. He spent an extra few hours in the kitchen working on some new recipes. He’s been thinking about you all day, and missing you all day. He’s not surprised when he gets home and finds you asleep. It’s nearing two am.

After he takes a quick shower and changes into some different clothes, he heads to bed. He pulls back the covers fully expecting to just lay down and crash, until he sees you. You’re in one of his favorite T-shirts and nothing else.

But, Carmy still being Carmy, is anxious about trying the somno thing, so he crawls into bed with you, trying to ignore his hard cock. He’s almost asleep when he hears you whimper. It takes him hearing a few more whines leave your throat, and your ass grinding into him before he realizes you’re having a wet dream.

Carmen cannot take it anymore; his self restraint collapsing in an instant. He kicks off his boxers before lining his hard cock up to your entrance and slowly sinks into you. Your cunt is so wet and warm around him he has to fight back moans so he doesn’t wake you up. You’re still asleep when he bottoms out.

He wraps his arms around your waist and settles into you. The sound of your moans picks back up again as you shift on his cock in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, lazy with sleep. “Carm-“ your voice whines out. You can’t really think of a full sentence. All you know is that Carmy is deep inside of you and has his arms wrapped around you.

He speaks, voice soothing as one of his hands goes down to steady your hips. “Shhh baby. Go back to sleep, just needed you to keep me warm. I’ve got you sweetheart, go to sleep.”

And with that you fall asleep in Carmy’s arms and sleep better than you ever have before. When you wake up… he is still inside you… and very hot morning sex likely occurs

#TEA THIS IDEA ILY #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear fanfiction #brain rot

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 2 months

Note

Navia, Lisa,Beidou, Sara likes to rest their boobs on their S/Os head. S/O has a strong neck luckily

Them resting their breasts on readers head

characters: Navia / Lisa / Sara x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: nothing too suggestive. But it’s more than handholding, so consider yourself warned

a/n: Cut out Beidou bc I usually only write up to 3 characters per request and she was the one I had least of an idea what to write for.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Navia

Navia and you had a very physical relationship, from holding hands, hugging each other whenever you met or cuddling when it was just the two of you, you had long grown accustomed to it. And while you kept it to an absolute minimum when the two of you were at work, the same could not be said about whenever Navia visited your office while you were busy filling out whatever paperwork you had left.

Just as she wouldn’t want to be interrupted however, the Spina’s President made sure not to distract you from your own, either relaxing on the couch or helping you avoid becoming too bored with smalltalk. And yet sometimes, simply talking to you wasn’t enough. Navia moving closely behind you as she moved her arms around your neck and began leaning against your chair as the two of you continued to talk.

All the while a new weight would be placed upon your shoulders… or more specifically. Your head.

The first few times it happened, you became completely unable to focus on your work. You may have never been able to bring it over your heart to tell her, but the paperwork you spent the rest of your workday pretending to fill out cost you countless nights. And yet, you decided to keep your mouth shut, simply deciding to learn how to continue to work through it instead of confessing just how distracting it was.

Because, while you weren’t shameless enough to outright state it, you didn’t mind. Far from it.

“Did you take care of the pothole I asked you about?” Navia cut through the comfortable silence as she stole a glance down at whatever paper you were currently working on, and while her question may have been about work, you wouldn’t have been able to tell from her tone alone. Her voice sounding more as if she had just asked you about how your day had been than anything else.

“I made sure it was fixed as quickly as possible”, answered, causing Navia to let out a small chuckle. You may have been reliable enough normally, but whenever she asked you to do something you gave everything you could possibly muster to make sure it was done as quickly and perfectly as possible.

Almost subconsciously, Navia moved her hand to pat your head, only to quickly remember that it was already occupied when she looked down on your head, a sudden thought crossing her mind.

“Say, isn’t it distracting to have me hug you while you work?” She thought out loud, earning herself a confused hum in response before you quickly responded.

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need to worry about hurting my feelings-”

“I wasn’t trying to protect your feelings. It’s fine the way it is, no need to move”, you cut her off almost frantically, only for your ears to turn ever so slightly red as Navia stared at you in stunned silence.

And then she let out a small laugh before returning her arms around your neck.

“Alright.”

Lisa

You have always had a hard time believing Lisa would accidentally lean against you in such a way that her breasts ended up resting on your head, something only made more difficult with each time the librarian suddenly caught herself doing it. Especially since she never seemed to learn from her mistakes, the same scenario occurring each and every time you found yourself in an almost completely abandoned library.

Once upon a time, you were embarrassed whenever it happened. Your face would heat up as you nervously tried to decide whether to tell her or not, only for it to happen more frequently the more accentuated your reaction was. Those days had long since passed, and yet Lisa’s accidents were far from being a thing of the past.

And so, you weren’t all too surprised when you suddenly felt the familiar weight on your head, your eyes not leaving the book in your hand for even a moment as a brief greeting escaped your lips, too used to it all to care too much.

And yet it all changed when you heard the familiar creaking sound of the library’s door swinging open, your eyes widening when it became clear Lisa had no intention of moving.

Her teasing was one thing. Someone else seeing you like this however? That was a whole different story. One you preferred nobody to be able to tell.

“You had your fun Lisa. Can you stop for today?” You asked meekly, not wanting anyone to hear your slightly panicked voice.

“What are you talking about, my cutie?” Lisa asked innocently, only for you to hold back a sigh response.

“My head.” You responded sternly, only to receive a small chuckle from her.

“You didn’t seem to mind it before.”

“Because I know you’re going to do your thing. And we were alone before”, came your whisper, no longer being able to pretend your gaze was on the lines in your book as you scanned whatever surroundings you could see without having to move.

“Are you embarrassed?”

So that’s what this was about.

“Would you reposition yourself if I admitted that I was?” You asked, only to receive nothing but silence in response, a sigh escaping your lips before you once again opened your mouth.

“Yes, I am.”

And just like that, it was like a weight was lifted from your shoulders, literally, as Lisa sat down next to you, a book of her own in her hands as her eyes briefly scanned the title of yours.

“Oh, I haven’t read that one in a while. Mind letting me read it once you’re done?”

Sara

Whenever Sara and you went over possible tactics, time-schedules for operations or the next couple of days or simply tomorrow’s training you liked to remain seated in your chair, having whatever papers you were working on laid out in front of you as you filled them out. The general however, often found herself walking around the room when your meetings drew out, trying to keep her mind sharp as you discussed plans.

Today was one such days, and as you heard Sara pace around behind you, your gaze remained locked on the schedule in front of you, pen in hand as it was ready to be swung around to correct any mistakes or adjust the plans accordingly. Yet as you tried to follow her thoughts, you quickly found yourself losing her.

“Sara? You said we’d let the troops take a small break after the march, right?” You interrupted her, only to quickly receive a response in the form of an acknowledging hum, causing you to continue.

“Where is this march? I can’t find it anywhere in the schedule”, you asked again, only for Sara to quickly approach the desk from behind before leaning over from behind you and pointing at one of the papers, asking you something you’d wish you could understand.

And yet your mind had left the papers in front of you a long time ago, your face heating up ever so slightly as you felt a sudden new weight on your head.

“Does that answer your question?” Sara asked, only to receive no answer in response, confusion and a bit of worry overtaking her mind the longer you remained silent.

“Are you alright?” She broke the silence once again, causing you to quickly try to ease her worries, only for your nervous stutter to intensify them.

“Uhm. S-Sure!”

“Don’t lie to me. Look me in the face-”, Sara demanded as she looked down to see yours, only to quickly notice the problem herself. The general taking a large step backwards as her own face turned a deep red, struggling to regain her composure for several minutes of excruciating silence as neither of you said a word.

And then, finally. You broke it.

“...so the break. 90 Minutes?”

“An hour should be sufficient.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #gi navia #navia x reader #genshin navia #navia #navia x you #navia x y/n #kujou sara x you #kujou sara x y/n #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara #lisa minci #lisa x y/n #lisa imagines #lisa x reader #lisa #genshin lisa

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adverbally · 14 days

Text

Just Like a Prayer (I’ll Take You There)

Written for the @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt “pillow princess” | wc: 751 | rated: E | cw: sexual content | tags: alternate universe - gender changes, female steve harrington, female eddie munson, pillow princess eddie, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, a touch of BDSM dynamics, c’mon you can’t tell me the prompt is pillow princess and not expect me to make it sapphic | title from “Like a Prayer” by Madonna

———

It’s not that Eddie is purposely not reciprocating when Stevie goes down on her. She loves Stevie, and she would be thrilled to make her feel even a fraction as good as she makes Eddie feel. It’s just that, when Stevie wants to spread her out on the sheets and dig in like Eddie is her last meal, why would she protest?

“Oh, Jesus,” she gasps on a shuddering breath, lacing her fingers in Stevie’s beautiful hair for leverage as she grinds her hips up into her mouth.

Stevie’s answering moan feels like it vibrates through Eddie’s whole lower half. It almost surprises her when she feels the sting of Stevie’s fingernails digging into her thighs, holding her securely in place as Stevie’s tongue delves inside her as far as it can go.

The sound that comes out of her isn’t a shriek, exactly, but it’s loud and high-pitched enough that Eddie could understand the confusion if she were capable of forming any thoughts whatsoever right now. Her brain has been wrung out like a wet cloth until all she can think about is Stevie.

The weight of her on the bed between Eddie’s legs, the security of her arms across Eddie’s hips, the heat licking up Eddie’s spine with every swipe of her tongue. And, God, when Eddie cranes her neck to see Stevie looking blissed out on her taste, eyes rolling back in her head as she dives in for more–

“Stevie, oh my god,” Eddie breathes. “So fucking good.”

Stevie’s gaze flicks upward to make eye contact with Eddie as she swirls her tongue around Eddie’s clit just the way she likes.

Stevie knows how much that affects Eddie— seeing Stevie’s molten gaze peeking out from beneath the longest natural eyelashes she’s ever seen, focusing on her with dilated pupils like she’s getting high on eating Eddie out. Stevie knows, and she’s playing a dirty trick to catch Eddie off guard and send her careening into her orgasm.

Or so Eddie thinks, until her thighs tense and her cunt starts to clench around nothing, and Stevie pulls away.

Eddie teeters there on the precipice, half-convinced she’s past the point of no return and going to come anyway. The moment stretches like Stevie is one of the glassblowers they saw at the renaissance fair last summer, and Eddie is molten glass, red hot and liquid, cooling slowly but surely in the hands of a master.

She doesn’t come.

It stuns her speechless. She can’t even breathe, like the shock has knocked the air out of her. All Eddie can do is lie there and watch as Stevie sits up on her knees and wipes her mouth with the back of her wrist.

Her stunned expression must speak volumes, because Stevie blinks at her faux-innocently and asks, “Was there something you wanted?”

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes uselessly before she indignantly settles on, “I was about to come!”

“I guess you were, huh?” Stevie says wonderingly, like it hadn’t occurred to her. “Sorry, sweetie.” She reaches out to lightly trace her nails across the sensitive skin of Eddie’s inner thighs, making her legs twitch.

She whines dramatically, throwing an arm over her face. “Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, loving girlfriend who never, ever tortures me?”

Stevie laughs. “Ever heard of delayed gratification?”

“I think that kills people.” She scowls and flings her arm to the side in protest.

“I think…” Stevie sing-songs, leaning over Eddie’s body until they’re face to face, “that if you’re a good girl and wait for me to let you come, I can make it worth your while.” Her hand drifts to Eddie’s jaw, thumb teasing over her bottom lip in a promise for more.

Eddie swallows hard but doesn’t look away from Stevie. She’s so gorgeous when she takes control that it’s almost hypnotic. Even when Stevie shifts forward so her thigh is snug against Eddie’s spit-slick pussy, Eddie keeps her eyes on Stevie’s face. She gets a devious smile as her reward.

“You don’t even have to do anything. I know you can handle that. Right, princess?”

Wordlessly, Eddie nods her agreement and tries to ignore the electric spark of shame that shoots down her spine, straight to her cunt.

Stevie pushes herself back down the bed to settle between Eddie’s legs, and Eddie fists her hands in the sheets as she steels herself for the next touch of Stevie’s tongue.

It’s going to be a long night.

#steddiesmuttyseptember #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine #NO I won’t stop making them lesbians and you can fight me about it

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windser · 2 months

Text

it's not unusual for soshiro to come in late. you've both accepted that some operations can take all day, if not a few days given the scale. but over the near year of living together, the two of you had at least set up a reasonably efficient communication system.

give or take a few hours to last minute, your husband had always done a great job of letting you know that he was in route home. if it was early enough in the evening, the alert would come as a call to double check that you didn't need anything, or sometimes just to hear your voice. after hours notifications came as a courtesy text. the ping you set was always loud enough just to rouse you, but more often than not you wouldn't fully awake until the sun rose with soshiro's arms wrapped around you.

so it's reasonable for the the following series of events to occur when your husband arrives home just short of 5am, sans any divulgence. looking back to the exact moment, he would think about how he considered how unreasonable it would be to wake you at the near crack of dawn. this had been a short thought after he came to decision of not wanting to sleep in his office when he could curl around his partner instead. he'd attest that all to exhaustion on his part in assuming you would be too deep in sleep to notice, as you often were when he slipped in beside you.

what he didn't account for was the unexpected arragement of one of your projects left just shy of the living room entrance. there was a chance you would have warned him, if he had given you more notice. there was also a given that he'd be aware enough to avoid it. but that was all reserved for a more sensible vice-captain soshiro hoshina, not just the man, soshiro hoshina, who was one step from collapsing and missing his partner.

his sharp curse is loud as his shoulder knocking into the wall from his imbalance. when he unsteadily stumbled into the bedroom a moment later, he has a split second of controlling his instinct to retaliate when he came face to face with the glint of metal from one of his short swords, which was held tightly in your unpractised grip with every intention of swinging towards him.

"woah woah" he cried out, quick enough to snatch your wrist to halt the attack, vermilion eyes still filled with shock. his laugh is short and chocked full of disbelief. "almost got me there."

soshiro carefully unhedged the hilt of the sword from your grip as realization settled over your face. you took a step back, covering your mouth with your hand. when your fingers were gone a second later, you breathed out, “i didn't even think, i thought... you always let me know soshiro. and when you didn't." there is a crack in your voice as you take in a shaky breath. "which now i realize is dumb because who would break into the division base but you didn't let me know you were going to be home and you said ..."

he always said not to think in the moment, always go off instinct. and it was nothing but that drive that had you reaching for his spare sword stored just behind the headboard. you weren't nearly as proficient as your husband, but you knew well enough where to direct the pointy end. at least it would be said you didn't go down without a fight.

with your hair a disarray, soshiro could tell - even in the dimly lit space - that you were tired. your hands were shaking, your fingers thrumming against your hip, and you were muttering under your breath and breathing hard, cursing at him, moving your hands forward so you could push at his chest and rest your forehead against his sternum because you had been so fucking scared.

soshiro lurched towards you. “shh, shh,” he hushed you gently, his heart thudding against yours. “''yer alight. i ‘m sorry, so sorry, baby, I should’ve - shhh.”

"you’re home," you whispered against the side of his neck, squeezing your arms so tightly around his middle that he was afraid you would end up breaking yourself. "that’s all that matters, you’re, you’re home - " your voice trailed off and cracked at the end.

"don’t worry," he soothed softly. his fingers scrunched into the hair at the nape of your neck. "c’mon, it’s alrigh' now, I’m home. let’s just sleep."

soshiro was afraid to let go of you when he kicked the door shut with the side of his foot. without his fingers leaving your waist, he began guiding you towards the edge of the bed.

not even two minutes later, he was down to his boxers and was curling his arms around your waist, waiting for your heart to stop beating so heavily with your palms pressed anxiously to his face.

"I’m home now," soshiro heard himself whispering into the dark, no longer afraid of stubbing his toe into unidentified objects in the clustered hallway, of swords swinging towards his face.

it was hard to be scared when he was home, when he had you wrapped up in his arms.

#hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #soushirou x reader #hoshina soushirou #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 #bsf!husband soshiro #soshiro hoshina

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bakugoushotwife · 3 months

Text

𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖘

a/n: here is the finale to part one!! thanks to everyone being patient with me to get this part out, i've been going thru it lately but we got her done. i haven't proofread everything but will as it goes live, just kinda wanted to put it up. this shit gets dark so proceed at your own risk. cw: gore, blood, murder, major character death, infanticide, smut, cowgirl, pregnancy journey, serious graphic descriptions, etc. dead dove do not eat. series masterlist jjk masterlist part two

he grips your forearms, pink lips parted in disbelief. his touch is gentle, eyes gleaming with emotions yet unnamed. “again. say it once more.” he whispers, seemingly searching for the physical signs already as his eyes dance around your stomach.

“i’m pregnant, the healer confirmed it–our heir. he or she is coming!” you laugh in astonishment, a gentle warmth blushing across your cheeks. he pulls you against his broad chest within the next second, a myriad of thoughts occurring in his brain all at once. his wife–his queen, was with child. he was no longer the man he was cursed to be. he was loved by you, and would soon become a father to a loving baby of his own creation. a monster he may be, but solitude had lost its grasp on him, and he would never feel guilt for his monstrous ways now. not with a family to protect. a family. ryomen sukuna—head of a family.

you nuzzle your face against his neck, and his heart physically aches with the emotion he stores in it for you. surely this is something much stronger than love. no one could ever feel as strongly as he does. he sighs softly. comfortably, and sets you back on your feet with a soft chuckle that rumbles inside both of your chests.

“what wonderful news—outstanding news, my love…you have made me the happiest man...what a gift..” he says in a voice nearly foreign to you with its overwhelming gentleness. it conflicts with the look in his eyes. it’s hard to describe—the love and adoration he’s always held is there, with something else lying beneath. a certain icy cruelty that you know he’s capable of—a primal protectiveness. yes, gone were the days of leaving you in the throne room or bed chambers by yourself to be waited on by uraume and the rest of the staff. no, no. he would be attached to you like a second soul, as if you weren’t growing one already.

he just couldn’t bear to risk it. especially as the building plans commenced and more strangers would be around his wife than ever before. his nerves were…heightened so to speak. you didn’t want to call it paranoia, as you can understand exactly where his concerns come from. he’s never cared for anyone. not even a fucking little bit, and now he has an entire universe of feelings stored inside of one person—seperate from himself. it’s terrifying. it’s vulnerable in ways he hates to admit, for any one of his enemies that knows of your existence knows exactly how to break him apart. all the sorcerers he’s wronged, all of the families of those he has personally extinguished—they all have a way to enact revenge. they all have a clear path to ripping his heart out of his chest, and it’s a fate worse than death. even the thought of you falling into enemy hands is enough for sukuna to erect gates with enchantments and veils, laying traps of his own mind’s invention all around the palace grounds to ensure your home remains a free territory for you and his baby.

his baby. his son or daughter growing fruitfully within you. only three people know of the baby’s existence—you, him, and uraume. and this is how the list would stay until it is simply unavoidable. he will cater to your every need himself; and no one else should enter within ten feet of you unless they want to lose their heads. he makes this much clear, announcing the decree to his castle staff. of course they’re curious as to why they can no longer serve their queen–but any questions they have die on their tongues with the feral tone of commands from their king.

you think it’s all a bit much, but you wouldn’t say anything against his wishes. this is what helps him rest peacefully at night, what makes him believe you are totally and wholly safe. besides it’s more relaxing this way. the only hustle and bustle is about the additions to your home, no servants nagging you about the certain tinctures and powders you should be taking to support your baby through the pregnancy; nor them cooing about how dominant and healthy king sukuna’s offspring would be. no. it’s just the two of you and the moment. the first few months were rocky—much more negative than positive with your symptoms and struggles. your husband was a rock amidst the nausea-inducing waters. he may not be inspirational or motivational in his words, and he may not know simply from instinct alone how to comfort you; but do not mistake that for neglect. he is ever curious, and attentive. he can tell when you need something…he just needs you to help him along as to what for the first few weeks into this beautiful journey.

he’s quick to provide you a trash receptacle or to rush after you as you run into the bathroom to puke. he’s the one holding a cool rag to the back of your neck and keeping your hair out of the way, the sound of your seemingly endless retching tugging at his heart. he learns that the term “morning sickness” is really a lie—you’re sick at all hours of the day. he nearly feels guilty over your suffering, keeping you hydrated on water and coconut milk for extra nutrients. you aren’t keeping much food down, but he tries to make sure you’re offered plenty of it. going into the second month of your weak exhaustion and pathetic puking, he’s growing more than concerned.

“i’m calling the doctors, my queen is suffering far too much.” he announces, using a rag to dab the sweat off your forehead as the toilet receives yet another round of your stomach’s contents. another hand fashions your hair into some sort of ponytail, and the other two stabilize your hips. you shake your head, leaning back to sit on your haunches as you wipe your mouth.

“it’s perfectly normal. i’ll enter the second trimester soon, hopefully it will stop then.” you say, chipper. he finds it confusing how you can clearly feel so bad but pretend otherwise. your child isn’t even showing in you yet, you only look as if you’ve had a large dinner. and while you’re ridiculously adorable in this slightly swollen state, he’s left mystified by how such a small babe can disrupt everything about your body. your appetite increases and wanes depending on the day, you cry over a fallen bird's nest and then threaten to light him aflame. it’s a lot for him to wrap his head around, as someone who’s never really been well versed in emotions to begin with. but he is patient above all else—and that’s just fine with you. he’s there for every mood swing, he lets you beat on his chest and yell at him–he lets you crawl into his lap and hold yourself close, to giggle and kiss all over his face only to whisper how horny you are.

at least that much is the same. if anything, it’s increased. and while sukuna has never been a delicate man, nor a submissive one—he is a somewhat changed man. his wife–only for his wife. he can tame the desire to absolutely fuck you apart for the sake of your growing child—he doesn’t know what exactly your body can handle at this time, despite what he may crave. but…you know what you can handle, don’t you? he…can allow you to use his body in this way too. it’s the least he can do, really. he knows he’s not the most caring man in the universe. frankly, he’s spent many a time thinking you deserve someone much more loving and doting than he. but you bask in the love that does flow from him, and your body is being used to grow his offspring. so yes, he clears the throne room of contractors and servants and architects making last minute adjustments, adding rooms fit for children to thrive in and his family to gather in; all because his precious wife made an appearance demanding his attention. yes, he lets you position yourself against his lap and rut against him at your own pace, grinding on his thigh while you beg for his hands to toy with your tits.

“please–i need more, my king~” you pout, pawing at his wrists, dragging them up to your chest.he finds you enchantingly adorable, and this neediness is such a good look on you. not being able to throttle you nearly makes his bones ache, but he uses his lower set of hands to guide your hips over his defined thigh–his top set of hands giving into his sweet wife’s desires.

and he always knows exactly how to touch you. he kneads at your breasts, the sore fat of your tits melting into his hands so perfectly you hiss and let your head fall back, rolling across your shoulders at just the simple enjoyment of his fingers tweak at your swollen nipples. he loves how sensitive you’ve become, how your brows pinch together and your cheeks darken the closer you get to soaking your panties. he knows you’ll plunge yourself on his cock over and over again–letting him coat your insides with the seed that’s already taken root in your gorgeous little womb.

“of course. my naughty little queen can’t sleep without her husband’s cock pressing into her?” he coos, the words so taunting but so loving at the same time. you howl with excitement, ripping his pants down after several seconds of effort, your animalistic growls of need so pleasing to his ears and ego. you take as much of his cock inside as you can, thighs tightening at the effort.

“mm–nuh uh, can’t help it–just need you all the time!! ‘s your fault–you did this to me!” you pout, bottom lip swollen from the amount of times your teeth have dug into it. your belly, just barely bloated with the sign of pregnancy, just glistens in the candlelight of his throne room, everything about you was calling out to him—as always. he doesn’t know why the sensation still surprises him every now and again. so he helps you, hands on your waist to help lift you up and down along the shaft of him, watching your face contort and ease with bone-deep pleasure. “oh, yessss~”

your hands scramble to hold something, his wrists, his chest–anything with purchase as your orgasm shakes through your entire body. he only uses your tight walls for a few more lengthy strokes, erupting thick white ropes that paint your insides in the best way–the way that makes your legs tremble and buckle, so spent from your attempts at riding him that you’re leaning into his chest and closing your eyes to sleep. this has been your routine for about three weeks now, not that he minds.

but the second trimester…oh how golden. this was the first time that sukuna really understood the beauty of pregnancy. with all of the nights of puking and bad sleep and weird cravings and mood swings and the list goes on—he was wondering what exactly was the big glow with babymaking aside from your sex drive and the overall concept that you get a baby out of it. but now, as your bump develops and grows everyday, as your energy evens out somewhat and all you want to do is nest and decorate for the baby—he gets it. uraume brings bigger robes so you may dress comfortably, and sukuna passes along your every demand to the builders. the baby’s nursery is being painted by hand, the crib by the finest carpenters that japan has to offer. sukuna wouldn’t be sukuna of course unless he threatened to kill every worker on the project if they spilled the news of what they were working on to a single soul.

the fields outside the palace have become your favorite place to be. you enjoy laying in the sun, plucking the wildflowers that grow on the hillside and weaving them into a flower crown, and watching the animals sprint around in the treeline below. sukuna would watch from the castle some days, letting you bask in nature under his careful oversight. some days he joins you, listening to you prattle about the birds that like the sugar water you lay out. the peace that you bring to his life is something astounding. he never would have imagined himself enjoying listening to someone so bubbly and optimistic. you have always been a light he had never known existed, and he sees you as a literal angel. the way the summer skies cast a glow down on you—glowing up your hair and skin and highlighting that beautifully round bump.

this day, he sits outside with you–watching you lean back, robes unbound to drink in some more sun. he’s proud that he’s able to make it such a safe place for you–your happy place. you can hear him approach, a joyful grin spreading across your face as you look over at him.

“the baby knows you’re here~” you coo, supporting the underside of your rounded bump. the king lays beside you, a smirk on his face at the greeting. “say hello to your spawn.” you add, snickering. and dutifully so, he leans in and places his hand on your stomach. the broad paw spans most of the stretched skin, life and wonder sparkling in his ruby red eyes as he feels it, the repeated soft flutters against his palm make his heart skip a beat. his son or daughter is so active, and very strong. and they seemingly feel him, like you claimed. they like his voice and his touch, his gentle brush of his hand inspiring another tirade of kicks that send you giggling.

it just makes things that much more real for him. his child is on the way, halfway grown already. he can’t wait to meet them, to see if they resemble you or himself more closely, to have a mini-him to take under his wing and entrust his philosophy to. he can’t wait to watch you be a mother either. just what his limited imagination can conjure up warms the coldness in his chest. the idea of you swirling around a sweet nursery with the baby smiling with gums and lips, cheeks rosy from being so loved.

“hello, little baby of mine.” sukuna hums, leaning down to kiss below your navel.

you smile sweetly, eyes crinkled in the corners. “we need to think of names!” you hum, running your fingers through his hair. it soothes you to have him so near, your protector and greatest advocate. he hums at the feeling, resting his chin on your breastplate, right before the swell of your stomach. those eyes melt you every time, especially when they look at you with such fondness.

“their name will come to us when we look upon their face. no need to rush.” he hums softly, rubbing your stomach absentmindedly. he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

“i suppose so, but i would like to call them something aside from the baby.” you hum, twisting the pale pink strands around your fingers, wondering if your child would get this uniquely colored hair.

“then let’s call them ayame, for now.” he decides, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a smile. the word has so much significance in love and beauty, and he knows it’s the right one to bestow upon his unborn.

“you’re so sweet, i love it. ayame–for now.” you hum once more–nodding your agreement, resting your hand atop his own. before long, the sun begins to set and the king ushers you inside for dinner—relieved your appetite returned.

everyday after that was just as beautiful. you worked tirelessly daily to craft ayame’s clothes, knitting in neutrals to ensure the pieces would suit either gender of child. your excitement grows with your stomach, and so does sukuna’s protectiveness. you hardly use the bathroom by yourself. your pregnancy is now common knowledge amongst the castle staff–widespread across your kingdom. so naturally, sukuna is even more scrutinous of anyone coming in and out. the construction is nearly complete, but enemies could be lurking anywhere. and no one is more aware of that than your husband.

he’s more than relieved whenever the construction reaches its final days as you’re about to pop. he still hovers, don’t misunderstand, but he can take a breath. any day now, you’d go into labor and the heian era’s new prince or princess would make their grand entrance. the nursery was fully prepared and the doctors and midwives had arrived as the construction workers were leaving, everything was in place.

imagine his surprise when he’s thrown out of sleep in the middle of the night—one of his veils have been breached. moments later, uraume rushes into the room.

“my king–the perimeter guards caught someone…they had weapons. ordered to kill the queen.” they pant, out of breath from hustling here so quickly. and with that one sentence, his every worst fear is confirmed. people are after you—they want to kill you. kill his baby and his wife in one fell swoop.

he sees red.

he looks over at you–sleeping deeply beside him. he can’t disrupt your rest, not when the baby will be coming so soon..so he leans over to kiss your lips softly before following uraume to the throne room to torture the infiltrator that thought they could get away with such a thing.

he doesn’t think he’s ever been this bloodthirsty before, either. love like this makes you do crazy things–feel crazy things. the perpetrator is being held on his knees, head forced forward to look at the floor.

“my servants tell me that we’ve caught a roach. let’s hear it.” he spits, intent on torturing this cretin slowly—send a message to everyone else that tries to come after his family. that if you attack—you will be dismembered and scattered across the continents with the breeze.

“or maybe you just caught the fall guy, and you didn’t stop anything at all.” the man smirks boldly at the king, a shuffle upstairs catching his attention.

you wake up when the last traces of your husband’s warmth has dissipated. you blink awake, feeling around in his spot to confirm his absence. huffing, you roll to your back, seeing his shadow shuffle around the room. “my love? are you having trouble sleeping tonight?” he’s been known to periodically wake up and patrol the place to make sure that nothing’s slipped past his other defenses.

“notcha love—you can’t bring that demon to life, whore.”

and those are the last words you ever hear.

there’s a slash across your gut, deep. you can hear your blood splatter on the ground—similar to what you had always imagined your water breaking to sound like. you don’t even feel the pain, really. just the fear. just the realization—that you’re too late, that all sukuna had done was for nothing. you’re dying. you’re going to die today–here. alone, and scared, the slash that comes next nearly decapitates you, and you can’t use your technique. you never even got out of bed, only your legs had touched the floor. you hadn’t even been able to stand before they slaughtered you.

the baby…the baby is gone just as grotesquely as you are–pulled from the gash in your midsection to fight these grown men on their own. ayame was a girl. and she was suffocated before her eyes ever opened, blood strewn about the room.

the two murderers flee before sukuna makes it to the top floor, able to cascade a rope out of the window and sneak right out, now that all of the security is distracted.

seconds later, he throws the door open. he nearly sprints forward to check on you–your form visible on the bed. but as he gets closer, he slips. his feet slide on something wet, warm—and he knows. he knows he’s lost the only person that ever mattered. his heart pounds faster as the staff rush in with the candles–revealing the gruesome scene.

he sobs. it’s a foreign feeling, crying. he had only felt this once before—when he knew he was going to be a father. that was certainly more pleasant than…this. you’re gone. his light–his eternal sunshine…slaughtered like cattle on his bed. you’re gutted, the scent of iron finally hitting his senses. had he been in shock before? is that why he didn’t immediately notice? your head is barely attached to your neck—eyes wide open with horror, mouth hung open to scream. there’s so much blood. dripping out of your mouth, gushing over your chest and out of your abdomen–soaking your pretty lavender nightgown. he reaches for you, emotions heightened to levels left undocumented. that’s when he sees—his eyes focusing on the lifeless lump that was his baby daughter. he reaches for her too–little ayame. he cradles his girls to his body, absolutely wailing. his body spikes in temperature—cursed technique going haywire. he’s inconsolable. his cursed energy is spiking to heights unknown, body shifting—growing larger–rage flowing like a new source of energy all on it’s own. his soul is shattering, twisting and knotting up in his body–heart aching like never before. it was one mistake—he left for two seconds, to let you sleep and now you are gone forever. his baby is dead—his wife…he’ll never speak to you again. never feel your hands on his skin or the warmth of your kiss. he can’t go on like this—no. he has no desire to live.

the love of his life, his first born child—ripped away from him in an instant. all the peace and happiness and joy you showed him existed has turned into the deepest and darkest personal hell he has ever known. he looks around him—even more blood than ever before. his technique—it killed everyone. he can’t find it in himself to consider it again, too focused on the mangled mess they made of his queen. he will avenge you—he will murder everyone in his path until someone can put him out of this misery. until then–he will take every other soul out of this world. if he can’t be happy–if he doesn’t get to live this life in peace–then no one else will either.

the entire castle is consumed with the raw force of his cursed energy, shattered in an instant. as if he was a natural disaster in and of himself. perhaps maybe know he is…for he is no longer a man. ryomen sukuna never was quite just a man–the king of the heian era. but now, he is the king of something else. of all things bad and evil—of all the things that can help him enact revenge. the king of curses.

tags: @neon-crow @skypperlegacy @gis4greenandgreenisgre4t @alastors-radio @alltimenogoaway-blog @tragedyofabrokensoul @gojosukuna2268 @hannas16 @alwaysfreakingout @thepurpleempath @pelicanpizza @aenishas @satsuk-jjk @catobsessedlady @gucci-basura @eiaaasamantha @asukahiriko @t4naiis @thejujvtsupost @mymelx @maskedpacific @berranurates @enchantingartisanwitch @celena-alanze

#kyleewritessukuna #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #kyleewritesjjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #dead dove do not eat #cw pregnancy #cw death #cw gore #sukuna series #soul bound

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onlyjaeyun · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 – 𝟑𝟐

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐬

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟎𝐤 (𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲)

⤲ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐯𝐬𝐞 (𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥), 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 (𝐟.), 𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟. 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

(A/N: this chap is a little heavier since it's gonna go deeper into not only heeseung's but mostly the parks' family situation so pls be aware!)

"And I heard him go 'Yeah, bro, I think she might even be the one' to Heeseung." Jay's voice is a mere whisper as he bends down to be close to your ear, both of you bursting into a row of giggles once he's done, the vegetables on your boards long forgotten.

You can't help but smile brighter and brighter the more you replay your brother's best friend's words in your head, the excitement about your his new girlfriend something you have yet to get used to.

From what Heeseung had told you, Sunghoon had apparently decided to actually go all in and ask the girl he had told you about to be his official girlfriend the day he had texted you and ever since then you've been on the edge of your seat, patiently waiting to finally get to know her.

Hoon's always been reluctant about relationships. The broken marriage of your parents a huge factor in his trust and commitment issues and every time you two talk about it, you're surprised about the difference in your trauma responses.

You definitively don't and have never blamed him for it. Of course you'd wish your brother to find someone he can trust and love the way you know he's capable of, yet by the time he had finally managed to escape the prison of your childhood home he had already developed this particular mindset.

Knowing he's genuinely serious about her has your vision blur with tears of happiness.

There's nobody on this planet who deserves to be loved and appreciated, respected and adored in a romantic way the way your brother does.

Followed by his closest, longest and best friend.

And as if he felt it in his chest, you suddenly spot Heeseung's tall figure in your peripheral vision, jolts of excitement and warmth rushing through your body in the best way possible.

You two haven't had the chance to be alone since he had arrived about ten minutes after Jongseong and despite many opportunities occurring, neither one of you had dared to even sneak more than short glances, too afraid the chef might catch up on the fire between you.

However, you definitely don't let Jay's presence stop you from basking in the feeling of comfort and safety Heeseung comes with.

"What are you two whispering and giggling about, hm?" He sounds playful and relaxed, his hair messily falling into his handsome face and as soon as his gaze meets your for a quick moment, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and try to stop yourself from staring at him.

Unfortunately he never makes this challenge easy for you.

After having to join a spontaneous staff meeting at work, Heeseung hadn't bothered to change, so there he is, dressed in a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, the first three of his buttons lose just enough to expose the soft skin of the bottom of his neck, tugged firmly into the matching black slacks.

He's literally not even wearing shoes, yet you can't help the way your body heats up the longer you look at him and by the time your eyes make their way back to his face, Heeseung shoots you a warning look.

"We're talking about Hoon's new girlfriend", Jay chuckles and reaches for a carrot, his back turned to his best friend as he focuses on his task.

"You know you could just...ask me about her, right?" Heeseung smiles and sits down on one the chairs at your kitchen table, spreading his legs and leaning back just enough for it to be tempting. His current posture looks like a silent invitation and if it wasn't for Jong, you would have gotten comfortable on his lap as soon as he sat down.

"You always leave out details", you reply and roll your eyes, yet suddenly stopping in your tracks when you realise your words indicate a lot more communication between the two of you than the others are aware of.

"He does! Oh, my God!" As soon as Jongseong turns around to shoot his friend an accusing look, you let out the breath you were holding in and finally get yourself to relax as soon as he gets back to chopping up the carrot on his board.

"Shut the fuck up", Heeseung scoffs and this time he's the one to widen his eyes when he realises what he had just said, not realising you might think he was actually talking to you.

"Hey, be nice to her", Jay quickly spits back and doesn't bother turning his whole body to look at him, "she's right and we all know it."

"That was directed at you, pretty face", Seung quickly saves himself and you can't stop your lips from stretching into a cheeky smile, "I'd never talk to her like that."

The urge to just go up to and kiss him is absolutely overwhelming and despite being more than just grateful for Jong's help, you can't help but wish it was just the two of you.

"My prince charming", you reply cheekily and shoot him a wink, loving the way his ears turn red as soon as your words him, followed by the soft colour spreading to the apples of his cheeks and even to the tip of his nose.

A beat of silence follows your statement, the only noise to fill your kitchen being the bubbling of Jay's infamous stew as well as the soft humming of your oven.

"So, how long has this been going on between the two of you?"

All of a sudden the world stops turning.

If it wasn't for your tight grip on the handle of the knife in your hand, you're pretty sure you would have dropped it on your feet as soon as your brain had managed to process your brother's best friend's words.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Jongseong?" Heeseung's voice is strained and raspy, the hot anxiety evident in every single one of his words despite the sternness in his tone, meanwhile you can barely push yourself to breathe properly.

There's some sort of tension in the air and you feel your skin crawling, shivers of nervousness rushing down your spine and for a short moment you're convinced you've misheard him.

You physically can't get yourself to look at either one of them, too stunned to react, let alone speak.

"Oh, come the fuck on", Jong says and throws the chopped carrottes into the brewing broth before he turns around and leans against your kitchen counter to face the two of you.

"Do you really think I'm stupid? Wait, let me rephrase that", he says and smirks, "do you really think I'm as oblivious as Sunghoon and the rest?"

Heeseung audibly gasps for air at his friend's words and your body actually starts hurting from all the tension in your muscles.

"Can you two please relax a little bit, I feel like shitting my pants and I don't even know why", Jongseong deadpans and crosses his arms in front of his buff chest, his muscles straining against the fabric of his black dress shirt and you gulp harshly.

"What gave us away?"

Heeseung's sudden question leaves you just as stunned and with big eyes you slowly turn your head to look at him with the most "What the actual fuck" expression in your gaze.

"Hm, just the fact you guys not only stare at each other with actual hearts in your eyes but also have been eye-fucking right in front of my precious food for hours now."

For some reason, Jong's calm yet aggregated comment elicits a choked out chuckle from your throat and with a soft whine of embarrassment you hide your face behind both of your hands.

Before you get the chance to do anything else, you feel Heeseung's tall body pressing into your back right as he turns you around and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pushing your face into his chest with a soft chuckle.

"Yun and Wonie are on it as well, aren't they?", Jay asks and shoots his best friend a genuine smile of relief and happiness, warming Heeseung's chest as he realises he's never been as subtle about his feelings for you as he thought.

"Yeah", Seung replies calmly and caresses your back, loving the way you shamelessly bury your face in the crook of his neck and try your best to hide from Jongseong's strong gaze, "Yun's actually the one who pushed me to do something about it."

"That's my boy", Jay grins widely, only for it to drop just as quick, "don't tell him I've said that or he won't let me breathe. I'm begging you."

"Only if you don't tell Hoonie about this just yet", Heeseung sighs and you can feel the tension in his strong body, a wave of guilt washing over you in response to his reaction, "we're going to do it soon."

"Don't worry, brother", Jong replies calmly and shoots you both a soft smile of reassurance, "just know I'll knock those pretty teeth out of your mouth and shove them up your asshole if you hurt her."

After another round of chuckles and laughter, Heeseung sends you to your room with a soft kiss on the forehead and a gentle pad to your ass so you can get ready in peace while he takes care of the remaining decorations.

By the time you're applying your lipstick, your doorbell starts ringing, followed by loud cheering and yelling of your name.

It doesn't take long for Jaeyun to arrive after the girls had just sat down with their wine glasses, your brother's best friend just as excited and giggly about the newest addition to the friend grouo as the four of you and every time you meet Heeseung's gaze, he just shakes his head and smiles softly.

He likes seeing you happy like this. There's nothing as precious and pretty as your beautiful smile, the genuine one which never fails to light up your whole face, all the way up into your mesmerizing eyes in a way he's only ever seen when you're talking to your favorite people.

The fact he's finally one of them definitely warms his heart in just the right ways, something he knows he won't ever take for granted.

After almost an hour of arguing and high pitched giggles, your last two guests finally arrive and if it wasn't for your brother's best friend you all would have waited in your tiny hallway with big eyes.

As soon as your brother steps out of the elevator, a huge smile appears on your face and you can barely hide your excitement, only to bite back an actual giggle at the sight of their intertwined hands.

"Please don't make this awkward", Hoon suddenly says and rolls his eyes as you step to the side to let him and his new girlfriend in and just when you're about to spit back a sassy comment, you watch in awe how Ning gently slaps his biceps and rolls her eyes in faux annoyance.

"Be nice to her, Sunghoon", she says and finally turns her whole attention on you, her pretty lips stretched into a huge grin before she cocks her head to the side and pushes them into a soft pout.

"You're so beautiful", Ning begins and for some reason you feel awfully flustered by her comment, the feeling of comfort and safety spreading in your chest, "I saw your pictures in his apartment but I knew you'd be even prettier in person. I'm Ning Yizhuo but you can just call me whatever feels right."

"I'm in love with you." As soon as the words leave your lips you both burst into laughter before Ning pulls you into a tight hug, her pretty hair styled into a messy bun yet perfectly matching the vibe of her black dress.

Once the three of you finally make it into your living room, Sunghoon introduces her to the rest of the group, Ning shooting the boys a polite and genuine smile, only to pull the other two girls into a greeting hug the way she did with you.

The following two hours are filled with lots of giggles, breathless chuckles, excited story telling and unpopular food opinions, only for the discussion to be ended by Hesseung as soon as Yuna starts threatening Jaeyun with her fork.

Every now and then you find yourself in a conversation with your brother's new girlfriend, her big eyes watching you with absolute adoration as you talk about your childhood and youth. Once the boys make their way to your balcony to enjoy their after dinner beer, you pop open another bottle of wine for your girls and get comfortable on your soft carpet, your attention never once shifting from the three women in front of you.

Despite only meeting her a few hours ago, you can't help but feel awfully comfortable around Ning, something about her aura and vibe easing the nervousness and worry in your chest and with every word she says as well as her interaction with your brother you catch yourself incredibly grateful.

"Okay, enough about me", Ning suddenly says and sets her wine glass down, her big brown eyes finding yours as a light blush makes its way through her foundation and you can't help but admire how pretty she looks, "how about you? Do you have a boyfriend?"

And as if he felt it in his soul, Heeseung steps back into your living room just on time to hear her question, his sudden presence driving the butterflies in your tummy absolutely crazy and you hate how you can barely hide your physical reaction from the girls.

"I don't", you sigh and finally answer Ning's question, only for her to raise her brows in surprise, "I've been quite busy with university and work, so I haven't really met anyone who caught my eye."

Yuna chuckles and you can feel Ryujin's pretty eyes bore into your side, both of them more than just aware of your current romantic status, yet purposely not adding or commenting anything to avoid awkwardness.

"Really? I thought you and Heeseung were a thing", she suddenly says and within a second your whole body tenses up, yet you don't dare even side eyeing said guy, who's been standing at the door to your balcony for the past two minutes.

"Oh", you whisper and quickly clear your throat, "no, we're just friends. He's my brother's best friend after all."

You're careful with your choice of words, too afraid of giving any type of hint regarding your current situation and you can barely ignore the tiny sting in your heart.

"I'm sorry if I'm being dumb but does that forbid you guys to date?"

Ning's question lingers in the air for far too long and with a soft sigh, yet not a single word, Heeseung just shoots you all a tight lipped smile and disappears in your kitchen, leaving behind an even heavier tension than before.

"I don't think Sunghoon would be very happy about it", you mumble and pull your knees to your chest in hopes of hiding your sudden mood change, "he always said he'd never approve of me dating one of his best friends."

You attentively watch the way Ning furrows her brows in confusion, lack of understanding lingering in her gaze as she looks at you.

"Why would his opinion even matter?" Her words simply leave you stunned. You never thought you'd have this conversation with your brother's girlfriend, a lot of factors quite unbelievable yet here you are.

"He's my brother, my only family. I could never date someone he doesn't approve of."

"Well, I get that part, I really do", Ning begins and takes another sip from her wine, "but only if it's about someone who's a bad person. Why wouldn't he wants his best friend, someone he knows like the back of his hand, to date his sister? And from the way he speaks of Heeseung I can definitely tell he's a good guy, so why wouldn't he be okay with it?"

You let out a deep sigh because in every other situation, she's probably one hundred percent right. Yet in your current one a promise made four years ago changes everything.

"I don't–"

But you don't get to finish your sentence as your brother and his other best friends stumble through the door into your living room, filling the tension in the air with silly laughter and deep voices.

"We'll talk about this over coffee and cinnamon rolls yeah?"

All you can do is nod appreciatively in response to Ning's words, swatting Hoon's noisy questions away like a fly before he plops down on the couch right next to her, throwing his arm over her shoulders and placing the most gentle kiss on her temple.

For some reason you can't help but feel frustrated and angry. Ning's right and you know it, yet you're also aware of how different everything is for the two of you and the fact life had decided to make this so difficult for you leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

You absentmindedly collect all trash and empty plates from your little coffee table, your head filled with thousands of thoughts to the point where you forget about Heeseung's presence in the kitchen.

"Don't do that, my sweet girl", he suddenly whispers, not moving an inch from his spot at your sink, his voice gentle and filled with this certain type of agony you've come to hate from how much it's been hurting the both of you, "don't go there. It breaks my heart to see you like this."

You sigh softly, the urge to steal a kiss from him or at least a little touch to ease your nerves almost overwhelming you.

"Why is life like this to us?"

Heeseung's chest tightens at the despair and sadness in your voice, something he has and never and won't ever get used to when it comes to this topic.

"It's gonna be okay, baby, I promise", he whispers softly and glances to the door really quick before he wraps his fingers around your delicate wrist and pulls you into his arms, "Hoon's gonna stay over at Ning's place tonight, do you want me to sleep here?"

Without missing another beat your head shoots up from its comfortable place in the crook of his neck, your eyes big and glossy, not as sad as just a few seconds ago and a soft smile on your lips.

"I'd love that."

Yuna and Ryujin are the first ones to leave around midnight, both of them complaining about still having to finish packing their suitcases, followed by Jongseong and Jaeyun, who have started confessing their love to everyone in the room to the point where Sunghoon and Heeseung had to force them into an uber.

"Do you want us to drop you off, Seung?", Sunghoon says and zips up his jacket, quickly reaching for Ning's hand, inly for her to chuckle when he accidentally goes for his best friend's.

"If you want to fall asleep in my arms you have to buy me dinner first, Hoonie", Heeseung chuckles, yet from the tension in his body you can tell how nervous he is and you can't even blame him. It feels like your heart is about to jump out of your chest the more you think about your brother's reaction to his friend staying behind to "help" you with cleaning up.

"And no, thank you", he begins softly, quickly shifting his gaze to Ning and you're surprised he seems to feel just as comfortable with her as you, "I'm gonna stay here and help Y/N with the dishes and everything else. You guys made a fucking mess."

You don't even realise you've been holding your breath for the past minute until your brother starts nodding calmly, inly for said breath to hitch in your throat as soon as his thick brows furrow.

"Just the two of you?"

A soft sigh of disappointment falls past your lips and you know the kisses and cuddles you had been looking forward to won't be happening anytime soon, the tone of his voice giving away his suspicions and obvious dislike.

"If you're willing to wake up extra early tomorrow so we can get back here together, then I'll leave with you two. But I definitely won't let her do all of that by herself, she's been working so hard all day." Heeseung's sternness and confidence, as well as his words of praise and validation send chills down your body, hot jolts of arousal making their way in between your legs and all of a sudden the yearning in your chest becomes even heavier.

"Park Sunghoon", Ning suddenly steps in and places her pretty, ring clad hand on his cheek, turning his head to meet her gaze just a little further down, "they do not have to ask for your permission. Heeseung's a sweetheart like that and your sister is as exhausted as beautiful as she is."

You can't help but pout at Ning's gentle words and the way your brother melts into her touch to the point where he doesn't even care about your presence and casually places a soft kiss in her palm makes you smile. A wave of relief washes over you and when you give her one last hug before closing the door behind them, you don't even try to be subtle about how much you've missed him.

"Come here, pretty girl", Heeseung quickly says and pulls you into his arms again, this time guiding you to the couch and offering his lap to you.

After hours of being so close to him, yet never once getting the chance to touch him, you welcome his sweet offer with a tired smile, straddling his thighs and pressing yourself against his strong chest, humming against the soft skin of his neck and inhaling his scent the way you always do after a long day like this.

"Is it silly to think that maybe Ning's presence will

make it easier for Sunghoon to accept us?" Heeseung sounds thoughtful, a hint of hope lingering in his words and you know how heavy this has been on him, looking at the guy he owes his life to and lying to him with every word he says can't be easy on anyone.

"No", you reply quickly, "I think she'll play a big part in it and I'm honestly so grateful. It's like she waited for this to come into his life."

Heeseung nods, but doesn't say anything else.

The following few minutes pass by in absolute silence. Neither one of you says anything, simply because you don't have to. The feeling of his body so close to yours, his pretty hands on your back and soft lips on your forehead are everything you've ever needed and for the first time in weeks you focus on nothing but Lee Heeseung.

Unfortunately life has never been this kind to you for too long and just when your lids are growing heavier, the ringing of your phone right next to you pulls you back into reality.

"Who is that? It's past midnight on christmas eve", Heeseung wonders, only for your smiles to drop simultaneously as soon as your gazes fall to the name on your display.

"Don't pick it up, Baby", he whispers and looks at you with actual pain glistening in his eyes, "he's just going to ruin your night."

You know he's right because there has never, ever been a conversation between you and your father which didn't leave you in tears, something you've come to learn rather early on in your life.

Yet, you can't seem to stop yourself from actually considering it each and every time.

Your father, as well as your mother have never been good to you. Years of verbal, emotional and physical abuse fueling the hatred and disappointment in your chest with each memory flashing through your mind, yet with a soft sigh you climb off of your lover's lap and take a deep breath.

There's this voice of your inner child which giggles and tells you to give it just another try because maybe they changed, maybe your father finally stopped drinking himself into a slow death and maybe your mother has finally realised you're her daughter and not her rival. In moments like these you simply ignore your inner teen, the one who can barely breath from all the pent up anger and frustration in her chest, because you'd give everything in your power to give that tiny y/n in your heart another glimpse of hope. Because...maybe, right?

"Hello?"

"Wow, the queen has finally decided to deem us worthy of her time."

And within just a single second, you watch your little self hide behind the big figure of your older brother in hopes of shielding yourself from their words, only for them to aim right at the freshest wounds.

You never wanted a relationship or bond with your parents, you just wanted them to treat you like an actual human being, something you've found hard to believe after all the times you and Sunghoon had to patch the other up because you accidentally had forgotten about one of the thousand task they had assigned you to before they left to pretend like they're the perfect set of parents.

"What do you want?"

Thankfully you've managed to perfect your nonchalant voice when it comes to them, knowing them well enough to hide your tears to save yourself from their poison.

"Watch your fucking tone, you brat", your dad hisses, his words barely coherent, letting you know about the unhealthy amounts of alcohol in his system, "we had no choice, you didn't get back to me in weeks."

All of a sudden your most recent phone call with your father flashes through your head and this time you can't physically stop yourself from tearing up.

Shame and embarrassment overwhelms you, instinctively turning your back to Heeseung to make sure he doesn't see the thick veil of tears blurring your vision.

"I don't have it", you whisper and nervously scratch the skin of your neck, subconsciously hoping to ease the action of breathing only for the knot in your throat to grow bigger with each touch, "and even if I did, Hoonie would never let me send it to you."

"Don't say that fucker's name when you're talking to me", your father spits, the single mention of your brother enough to set him off in the worst way possible, "fucking loser thinks he's better than us because he's living in the capital city. Have you two finally fucked your way to the top yet, hm? The least you could do is send us the money we asked for."

None of his sentences connect, yet each word manages to slice another blade through your heart and by the time you make your way to your dining table, you can feel the blood staining yet another part of your soul.

"What the fuck are you even saying?", you hiss and grab your head in absolute disbelief, your brain slightly foggy from all the anger and sadness mixing in your veins.

"Watch that fucking tone or I'll have to teach it to you."

A threat, one you've heard one too many times in the past few years, from the moment you can actually remember it all the way up to your last week before you finally moved away from that hellhole of a childhood home.

Unfortunately, the distance doesn't make swallowing it any easier, but for some reason you don't feel afraid or scared anymore. He can't get to you, not anymore. He'd have to pass way too many people before he could ever lay his hand on you again.

"Fuck you", you press through gritted teeth as hot tears stream down your cheeks and your chest is uncontrollably heaving up and down, "I don't owe you a single cent and I'd rather kill myself before I give you anything, you fucking drunk."

Your words are harsh and brutal and nothing but the actual truth. As much as it breaks his heart, Heeseung knows you have to do this on your own. He'll pick up your pieces after you've won your fight, no matter how badly he wants to rip that phone from your grip and tell your disgusting sperm donor a piece of his mind.

Waves of pride and worry keep hitting him one after the other and for the first time in his life Heeseung has felt absolutely helpless.

Watching the love of his life choke on her tears as she finally confronts the parent who had miserably failed her makes him fall for you all over again. He's never been prouder of you.

"Oh, will you look at that? The fucking smalltown girl grew some balls in the big, big city of Seoul", he cooes, mockery and ridicule dripping from every single one of his words and you find yourself wondering what the fuck happened in his childhood for your father to have turned into actual human trash.

You still remember all the times you had still written him a card for fathers' day, your tiny soul wishing for nothing but a crumb of attention and maybe even appreciation, only for him to crumble and throw it all into the trashcan alongside your cards, right in front of your eyes.

"Listen to me, you stupid brat", he suddenly hisses and pulls you away from those sad and painful memories, with the aim to carve new ones into your brain, "your mother needs that fucking money and we all know you have it. You didn't fuck all those little ceos in the making for nothing, did you?"

"You're mental", you breathe when his accusation hits your soul, heart shattering into even more pieces at the realisation what your father has convinced himself of.

He has never hidden his hatred towards you and your brother, his black heart filled with nothing but anger and wratch every time he looked at the two of you, only to lose himself in teh somehow relieving feeling of physically hurting two little children.

You could have forgiven him so much. The drinking, the disgusting accusations and everything he's ever said and broke your heart with, but not the way he has treated your brother.

All those times Sunghoon had cried himself to sleep after he had promised to become successful and save you, as well as Heeseung, from this shithole of a smalltown coming to your mind, too weak to remember the ones when the physical exhaustion from the constant state of survival had taken over his tiny body.

"Yeah, whatever", your father just grunts and the sound of him taking another sip from his beer sends shivers of disgust down your spine, "just send us the fucking money."

"No", you take a deep breath and aggressively wipe away the tears, straightening your back in the process despite the fact he can't actually see you, but knowing you're actually standing up for yourself, mentally and physically, is enough for you, "and I'm going to get a restraining order against you for both me and Sunghoon. You can't hurt us anymore, I won't let you. Next time you or that fucking witch has the nerve to dial this number I'm gonna call the cops on your asses and make sure to mention all the times you forgot to pay your taxes because you almost choked on your own vomit, you piece of human shit. Go fuck yourself."

And with those words you finally end the call, missing the red button twice from the shaking of your hands, only to fall to your knees as soon as the display goes dark again.

Before your brain can even process your panic attack, you feel strong arms around your shoulders pulling you into an even stronger chest.

"It's okay, Baby", Heeseung's voice is muffled from the blood rushing in your ears and if it wasn't for the close proximity you're pretty sure you wouldn't have heard him in the first place, "look at me, princess. Eyes on me, come one."

For some reason your body just obliges to his request without an ounce of hesitation and with short breaths you finally manage to lift your head and meet the soft yet slightly panicked gaze of your lover.

"There you go, good job", Heeseung says, his hands embracing yours gently, "we're gonna take a few deep breaths together now, yeah? Easy, don't rush yourself."

As he slowly guides you through the process of deep inhales and exhales, you finally feel your lungs filling with enough oxygen again, your heartbeat slowing down until it's back to its regular pace and your ears stop ringing.

"That's it, Y/N", the sudden use of your name sends a tiny wave of panic through your body and with teary eyes you shake your head.

"Don't use my name", you whisper and your voice breaks at the end of your request, "please don't ever use my name."

"Anything you want, princess", Heeseung responds once your words slash through his heart, "my perfect little angel girl. I'm so, so fucking proud of you."

You don't even register making your way into your room, only finding your road back to reality when Heeseung gently pulls your dress over your head, leaving you in the matching pair of underwear, yet never once shifting his gaze from your face.

You can tell he's on the verge of crying. It's Lee Heeseung after all. The guy who can't ever hide his tears when the people he cares about are hurting.

Your kind hearted, sweet souled first and only love.

"Don't cry", you whisper breathlessly, wiping away a single tear which had managed to free its way down his cheek, "don't cry, my love."

"I'm sorry", Heeseung tries his best to stay composed but after watching the way you slowly broke down, he's been cutting his hands on the pieces while picking them up again and yet the aching in his heart is what is on the verge of breaking him.

"Tell me what to do, princess", he begs. Heeseung is begging, on his knees right in between your legs, his head hanging between his shoulders as he seems...defeated.

A sight you never thought you'd witness in this or any lifetime.

No matter what life had thrown his way, Heeseung has always stood up with his head held up high. Even after all the abuse from his widowed father who had always preferred to use anything but his fists on a tiny, powerless Heeseung.

You can't even remember seeing him like this after having to endure the death of his beloved mother at the young age of ten, something he never talks about because of how much it still gets to him.

With a soft sigh, you take his perfectly sculptured face into your hands and lift his head to look into his eyes, your heart breaking into yet another thousand pieces at the discovery of his tear stained cheeks.

"I want you to distract me, Heeseung", you finally say after contemplating whether or not to take this road for the past ten minutes.

You know it might not be the healthiest and most romantic way to handle things, yet you know yourself well enough to be sure there won't be anything as strong and overpowering as pleasure.

For a second, Heeseung doesn't quite understand what you mean. You can malmost see his brain working through your request before his bambi eyes widen just the tiniest bit and his pretty lips part in light surprise.

"You want me to eat you out?"

Hearing him say those lewd words out loud never fails to send shivers down your body, yet this time you simply can't hide just how much they fluster you.

"No", you whisper and don't wait any longer to avoid any further misunderstandings, "I want you to make love to me."

Those are words Heeseung had never, ever dared to dream of. Even in his favorite daydreams and fantasies, he never allowed himself to step past that line, knowing it'd be too heartbreaking if he did.

Yet here you are, asking him for something so intimate, so special, so surreal, he actually can't find a single word to day in response.

"Unless you don't want to", you smile gently, aware of the heaviness your request comes with. He just talked you through a panic attack and broke down in tears in front of you, there's no way you could ever blame him for denying it.

"I've never wanted anything as much as that, Baby", Heeseung breathes, his eyes darker than just a few seconds ago yet still so full of gentle adoration.

"I just don't want you to regret anything, you're not thinking clearly."

His concern is heartwarming and absolutely valid, but the longer you look at him, the worse your hunger for him becomes.

"I'd never regret anything about you, Lee Heeseung", you reply confidently, "you're everything I've ever wanted and waited for. It'd...be an actual dream come true if you were the one to take my virginity."

"Oh fuck", Seung's sudden grunt buzzes through your body as he buries his face in your inner thigh and tries his best to adjust himself in his pants, still not quite used to how quick is body reacts to you.

However, it doesn't take him as long to regain his composure as expected because before you can even think about biting your lip, Heeseung's made his way back onto his feet, his big hands on your cheeks as he looks down on your seated self.

"Thank you, Baby", he whispers and takes a deep breath, grazing his thumb over your bottom lip before he gently pushes it into your mouth, the action sending a hot jolt of arousal straight into your cunt, "this means the world to me and I promise I'll make it worth it."

With glossy eyes, all you can do is look up at him as you suck on his thumb the way you've been daydreaming about his cock and as soon as you hallow your cheeks, Heeseung gently pulls his hand away again.

You quickly take the opportunity to reach for his belt, unbuckling it clumsily as adrenaline finally makes it's way into your blood and all those dark thoughts disappear from your head. The only thing you can think about and focus on is Lee Heeseung, just the way you've always imagined it.

"Is my pretty girl this impatient, hm?" His chuckle flusters you and you can't help but look away, yet never once stopping the movements of your fingers.

"You're doing so well, Baby", he praises you softly, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand, "go ahead. Take them off, I know how badly you've been wanting to see it."

You hate how right he is. Sometimes you really tend to forget how obvious your mannerisms and facial expressions are to Heeseung, but he can't and won't ever blame you because you don't know just how much he's been studying you from afar, after all.

"Stop teasing me", you sigh and finally unzip his pants, your eyes widening just the tiniest bit at the sight of the impressive imprint of his cock against the fabric of his boxer briefs and for a moment you try to remember if your favorite toy is close to his size, only to realise it's far from it.

"Come up here, princess", Seung demands softly, his hand wrapped around your arm as he pulls you onto your feet right in front of him, finally raking the time to let his hungry eyes roam your pretty tits.

"I have an idea", he suddenly whispers against your lips, only to leave your head spinning by pulling you into a hungry kiss.

You try your best to catch up, but after all these hours of yearning for this particular type of affection, you can't get yourself to care about muffling your little moans and whimpers.

The way Heeseung grazes your tongue with his own, exploring your mouth like it's the first time and savoring every drop in his own like it's an actual treasure leaves you dizzy in the sweetest way possible.

"Where's your vibrator, pretty girl?"

That question leaves you absolutely flabberggasted to the point where you can't physically close your mouth as you stare at him in shock.

"Don't look at me like that, Baby", Seung just chuckles, "I know you have a few of those little friends and I'd love to use one on you to get you as wet and ready for me as possible."

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth within an instant, several waves of arousal breaking down on you until you actually feel like you're drowning, all while you're mourning yet another set of ruined panties because of Lee Heeseung.

"It's in the back of the top drawer, left side", you mumble shyly and watch the way Heeseung's eyes darken, a sight you've grown way too used to in the past few weeks.

"Stay here, don't sit down, please." Is the only thing he says before he rounds your bed and quickly follows your guidance, coming back with your red vibrating dildo in his big hands and all of a sudden you're wondering if you forgot its actual size or if his hands are just that huge.

"It's so cute", he giggles and you quickly swat your hand against his chest as your body grows hotter in response to the sight of him holding your toy.

"As soon as you feel uncomfortable you let me know, okay? I'm gonna take it slow but just know I will make you cum at least twice before I fuck you."

All you can do is nod. There's not a single word left in your vocabulary and you're pretty sure you'd choke on your own spit if you were ro verbally respond to him.

"Wanna unbutton my shirt, pretty girl?"

Another approving movement of your head gets you a quick 'tsk' from Heeseung and before you can think about it too much, you whisper a breathy "yes".

Just as you're lifting your arms to get to work, the soft buzzing of your vibrator has your head shoot up with big eyes.

"Focus on the buttons, pretty angel", Heeseung whispers calmly, his empty hand finding home on your soft hips before he moves the one holding the vibrator closer to your clothed cunt, the anticipation leaving you completely frozen.

"Baby", this time his voice is a little less soft than just a few seconds ago, "I am going to pull away every time you lose focus."

"You're being mean, Seungie", you pout and fist the material of his shirt in your right hand, the other one still placed on the button.

But he doesn't budge, no matter how much he just wants to push you into the soft mattress of your bed and have his way with you, Heeseung knows he has to prepare you for what's to come.

So with a soft sigh you go back to your assigned task, your fingers quickly fidgeting with the little button, only for your whole body to tense up as soon as the vibeation sensation of your toy rattles through you like a heavy thunder.

A high pitched whimper escapes your throat, your brain clouded by arousal and hunger in the exact way you never knew how to satisfy, only to realise it would have remained this way if it wasn't for the tall basketball captain in front of you.

With shaky hands you continue to unbutton the next two, your thighs firmly pressed together as your juices make a mess in the center of your panties and you're genuinely surprised how easily Heeseung found your sensitive bundle of nerves when it took your previous boyfriends a lot of guidance.

You can feel his hungry eyes on every single one of your movements, yet you don't dare looking up at him, way too close to your sweet relief to risk disobeying his orders.

"There you go, good girl", Heeseung whispers and places a soft kiss on your forehead, "just one more to go and then I'll let you cum, princess."

And just when you thought this was about to be the easiest orgasm you've ever reached, Seung calmly presses another button to intensify the vibration, which yet again leaves you completely helpless.

You stare at the last button of his shirt with widened eyes, your bottom lip firmly tugged away between your teeth as you try to hold back the row of moans threatening to escape, only to lose the fight miserably.

"You're close", it's a statement, yet a threat lingers in his tone, "I'd hurry up with that last one if I were you, pretty girl."

For the nth time this evening all you can do is nod in response to his words, nervously fumbling with the button between your fingers, yet failing one too many times.

The sweet taste of your relief has coated the entirety of your tongue and you can feel yourself tiptoeing on the edge, patiently waiting for him to apply just the right amount of pressure to finally push you over, and as soon as you're done, your head shoots up, a sight Heeseung has yet to get used to.

Eyes wide and glossy, swollen lips parted as moan after moan rolls off of your tongue, your hands tightening their grip with every wave of pleasure overwhelming your sensitive body and just when he nods do you finally stumble head first into your orgasm.

It doesn't take a lot for you to fall against his chest with a row of strained whimpers, your cunt clenching in despair from the lack of penetration and touch.

"Such a good girl for your boy, aren't you, Baby?"

You can barely get yourself to nod, to overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm and if it wasn't for his strong grip on your arms, you're pretty sure you would have fallen to the floor already.

"Now, come on", Seungie says calmly, "get on the bed so I can eat that pretty pussy before I make it mine."

For some reason, his words bring you back to reality in an instant and with another soft whimper you lift your head and look ag him in a way he's been dreaming about for years.

"It's already yours", you whisper and place a soft kiss on his chin, "it's always been yours, Heeseung."

"F-Fuck."

For the first time in too long you can actually watch the way he loses his composure, yet don't get enough time to soak it all in before he pulls away and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned torso and the few little tattoos you had only ever gotten a glimpse off the past few months.

You try your best to ignore the one on his collar bone, the knowledge of it being a friendship tattoo with your brother easily pushing the guilt in your stomach back up to the surface and with a soft sigh you shift your gaze to his pierced nipples, something you still have to get used to.

You still vividly remember the picture Jaeyun had sent you three years ago of them at the piercing studio on a random friday night, after Heeseung had lost a bet and actually got them pierced. To the question why he never took them out aftereards he simply replied with a shrug and a short "I kinda like them" and that's how you found yourself staring at them each and every time he takes his shirt off.

"I'll take a picture and hang it in your closet so you can stare at that instead", Heeseung chuckles and loves the fact he can actually watch you grow slightly flustered from his words, "now get on the bed, pretty girl."

You don't know how much time Heeseung spends with his head buried between your legs, his tongue eagerly lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices as he teases your sensitive clit with your vibrator until you're a puddle of moans and whimpers underneath him.

His words of praise and affirmation barely make their way through the heavy cloud of pleasure in your brain and you're pretty sure you've cum at least twice in the past five minutes, just adding two more strikes to the list of tonight's orgasms. You know it's because Heeseung's scared of hurting you, yet the urge to finally feel him inside of you has taken over every fiber of your being, so with your last strength you tighten your grip in his dark hair and pull him up to look at you.

And just as usual, you're met with the sight of a drunk Heeseung, something you've gotten used to in the past few weeks since the first time he had made you cum all over his face.

Cheeks flushes, eyes glossy, pretty lips swollen and glistening with your juices just like his cheeks as well as the tip of his red nose and his chin.

"Please, Seungie", you whisper and look at him with big eyes, your heart hammering brutally against your rib cage from the constant waves of adrenaline rushing through your veins, "I need to feel you inside of me."

"Beg a little more, pretty girl", he suddenly says and gives your sensitive clit one last kiss before he comes to kneel in between your legs, his cock still firmly hidden behind the fabric of his boxer briefs and you can't help but whimper at tte sight of a rather big, wet spot at the tip of his length.

"Stop being so mean to me", you whine and throw your head back, reaching for him and finally getting to feel his hardness in your hand, even if it's through his underwear. Because despite the two of you having had shared quite a few intimate experiences, Heeseung has been vehemently denying you his cock just to make sure you know your pleasure is his absolute priority.

"Never", is the only thing he responds before he – finally – reaches for the hem of his boxers and slowly pulls them down his thick thighs.

With big eyes and anticipation boiling in your veins, you never once avert your gaze and realise you've been holding your breath as soon as his pretty cock comes in view.

Long and just thick enough to scare you, slightly curved towards his angey tip, veiny and about a shade darker than his actual skin tone. Lee Heeseung's cock is pretty. There's absolutely no other way for you to describe him and you don't feel ashamed about it at all.

Thinking about your ex boyfriends' manhoods, you can't really say the same thing and at this point you're pretty sure it's because of how obsessed and in love you are with him, but you never once imagined it to be any different.

A man as pretty as Heeseung could only have a pretty cock, it'd be a failure of destiny if it wasn't the case.

"Stop staring, pretty girl", Heeseung chuckles nervously and wraps his big hand around his shaft, giving himself a few good strokes and you can't help but press your thighs together at the sight.

"Do you have condoms?"

The question pulls you back into your bubble and with a soft sigh of disappointment, you nod.

In moments like these you definitely wished you hadn't stopped taking your birth control, yet after your latest boyfriend, you just didn't think all the side effects and hormonal struggles it comes with was worth it.

"Don't be so sad, Baby", Heeseung mumbles and reaches for the drawer of your nightstand, this time the one on the right, "one day I'll fill you up with my cum just how you want it. But it'll be to put a baby in that pretty belly of yours. So, you gotta be patient for a little longer, yeah?"

His words send hot jolts of arousal straight into your cunt, your need for him so intense to the point where you can't physically stop yourself from arching your back.

"That's my girl", Heeseung whispers and rolls the condom over his length in one swift movement.

"Considering the size of your cute toys, you do have lube somewhere, don't you, Baby?"

This time you simply roll your eyes and reach to the left side of your bed, quickly finding the bottle of lube you usually keep close when your little daydreams become too much and with a soft sigh, you hand it to him.

You carefully watch the way he squirts a good amount into the palm of his right hand before he yet again wraps it around his cock and starts stroking himself.

Heeseung throws his head back with a loud moan as he tries to prepare himself for one of his biggest dreams to come true after years of hiding behind all of the fantasies and mental images.

"Look at me, please", you whisper, too far gone to focuso on the shame and embarrassment bubbling up in your throat.

"Your wish is my command, princess. Always and forever."

Heeseung takes another deep breath before he actually follows your request, his hooded eyes finding yours as he comes to hover over you, reaching for both of your hands before he intertwines your fingers with his and pulls you into a soft kiss. One that holds all the emotions you've always dreamed of feeling in your chest during your first time.

Heeseung never once averts his gaze from yours as he reaches in between your bodies and lines his tip up with your tight entrance, his fingers finding your sensitive clit soon after, rubbing gentle circles into the bud as he slowly pushes himself in just enough to stretch you out the tiniest bit.

"I'm so in love with you, princess."

He suddenly whispers against your lips, his eyes filled with honesty and absolute pureness.

His words take your breath away and easily manage to shift your whole attention on him instead of the slight sting, tears welling up in your eyes when your brain finally processes his love confession.

"I've always loved you and there has not been and won't ever come a day where it's gonna be different", Heeseung sighs and you can tell he's trying to suppress his noises of pleasure as he pushes more of himself inside of you, his fingers not once stopping their movements.

You try to handle everything that's currently happening, yet your brain can barely focus on his sweet words as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge with each sweetly painful push.

"There you go, that's my girl", Heeseung whispers and finally moans into your mouth when your seeet cunt suddenly starts convulsing around his thick cock in just the right way, your spongy walls adjusting to his size like they were made for him, waiting for nobody but him all this time.

For the first time in his life, Seung feels like cumming on the spot, barely half way inside of the sweetest pussy he's ever had the privilege of tasting, your sweet moans and whimpers nothing but music to his ears, a melody so angelic, he's actually convinced he's finally made his way to heaven.

"I l-love you", you finally manage to say, the words barely coherent as they're drowned by your moans and you're surprised just how good it feels to be filled in such an intense way, "I'm so in love with you, Lee Heeseung."

Saying these words out loud feels like an actual dream. In all these years of being in love with him, you never dared to even come close to fantasies like this, the aftermath usually too heartbreaking and devastating for you to even risk it. And yet nothing has ever felt as relieving and fulfilling as your first, and probably onyl love confession.

"Oh, fuck." Heeseung's voice is strained and raspy, on the verge of turning hoarse from his constant throaty moans which have been clouding your brain in the sweetest way possible.

"Do you think you can cum for me, Baby?"

You quickly nod in response, physically unable to form any proper sentences and just when you think you've reached your limit, Heeseung finally bottoms out and knocks the last bits of oxygen out of your lungs.

"Oh, my fucking God", you breathe, tears of joy and happiness stinging in your eyes and as soon as Heeseung's gaze falls on your face, worry washes over his soft features.

"I'm okay", you quickly reassure him, using your free hand to grab his cheek gently, hot tears leaving a burning trail as they slide down your temples, "I promise, these are good tears. I'm just – so happy."

"Me too, princess", Heeseung sighs and you're fascinated by the way you can actually watch a thick veil of tears appear in his big bambi eyes, "this is everything I've ever wanted. Thank you for l-loving me. Thank you so much."

You're so caught up in his sweet words, you barely notice how he slowly starts moving his hips, pulling his length out of your sensitive cunt just enough to elicit a moan from your sore throat, only to firmly thrust himself back inside of you.

It doesn't take him too long to find a steady rhythm, yet his movements seem sloppy and uncoordinated, his moans growing louder and deeper with every single thrust.

"I'm so fucking close, Baby", Heeseung grunts and buries his face in the sweaty crook of your neck, littering the skin in open mouthed kisses, "do you think you can cum with me? Or does it – ngh, fuck – does it hurt too much?"

"Can do it", you whimper and push your hand into his hair, grabbing a fistful of his dark strands and taking a deep breath as you focus on the pressure on your clit.

"That's my good girl", Heeseung presses through gritted teeth and finally pulls away to look at you again, "I'm so proud of you, Baby. My perfect little angel girl. My biggest dream. My first and only love."

And maybe it's all the pent up frustration, anticipation and hope, and maybe it's those last five words of his which finally push you over the edge, but as you stumble head first into yet another orgasm, you simply can't get yourself to care enough.

Despite losing yourself in the sweet waves of your high, you don't let yourself miss the opportunity to finally watch Heeseung reach his own as well, having waited too long to let this particular moment slip through your fingers.

With a row of moans and grunts, his pretty eyes roll into the back of his head, swollen bottom lip firmly pulled between his perfect teeth as he finally cums inside the condom, the sight so beautiful, you wish you could engrave it into your memories forever.

You don't know how much time passes until Heeseung finally gets himself to pull out, the overstimulation becoming too much for the both of you and before you can even think about doing anything, Heeseung comes to lay next to you and quickly pulls you into his arms.

"I love you so much", he whispers and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, your lids heavy and the exhaustion of the evening finally catching up on you.

"I love you, too, Lee Heeseung", you whisper and reach for his hand, placing it on your cheek, "so much."

And as you slowly drift off into your well deserved sleep, Heeseung can't help but throw how head back as tears of joy and relief finally fight their way out and for the first time in his life something actually feels absolutely right.

He never thought he'd have the chance to build a friendship with you and yet here he is, his biggest dream now reality and after all these years of wondering why life was the way it was, he can't do anything but feel a wave of genuine gratitude fload his system.

You're his.

And he's finally home.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: After a whole week of absence, I came back with this big boy and really hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. I know some of you might think the sex part was rushed but to me it fits perfectly plus i really wanna write a little more smut in this fic and had to get to the point so yeah 💀 anyway, thank you guys SO much for all the love and support. sending everyone kisses. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!! 🥺🩷🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @thvhannie @enhaz1 @kpoprhia @abrazosolorcereza @deobitifull @mixtape-racha @certifiedmoa @jungwon-xo @hoonieluv @enhamysunshines @jaehoonii @pussyslayerhd @ineedsomezzz @neocockthotology @heerinnie @onionzzzs @hee-pster @3amstarlight @xxxxrvexxxx @primroselover @mimikittysblog @iea-tsand @lhspeachie @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @smg-valeria @kells5595 @heeseunghee7 @xrvrqs @ddazed-lhs @heebrry @fakeuwus @dammit-jjk @ivyannemarie @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @s00buwu

#enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen writers #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung smut #heeseung social media au #lee heeseung social media au #heeseung x reader

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hanaonesflower · 2 years

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Iwaizumi finds himself looking at you, puzzled at the way you shy away from his touch. He doesn’t quite get it. But he doesn’t want to push. Hajime does what he knows how to do best; talks it out. Or he tries really hard to. Ever since he’s been more comfortable around you, his arms often swing behind your shoulders and his hands usually are intertwined with yours but he hasn’t stopped to notice that you don’t openly accept his touches.

“Honey, stop.” His tone far from harsh but it still manages to stop you dead in your tracks. You turn to see him, finding your lover standing a couple feet away from you, his arms unoccupied, flinching with the itch for wanting to hold you.

“Hi? Is something wrong?” Regardless of how it may seem, Hajime is not good with his words. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times only for hopeless croaks to escape his throat. He looks, sad. So, so sad. His arms are being brought up, holding out as if he is collecting a reward, well in this case the reward would be to hold you longer.

“Can you come here, please?” Oddly enough you don’t protest, you don’t try to question him. Instead you step towards him as if someone has possessed you, Hajime looks relieved, he doesn’t have to fight for it. Even though, we all know that he would. “Can you, can I — can you let me hold you, please?” Oh. Yeah. You think. It still doesn’t occur to you that Hajime caught onto the way you shorten every hug, halt every kiss before it gets too deep, shake your hand away from his grasp. Physical touch makes you feel queasy, and it is oh so unpleasant. The direct linkage of physical touch to sex makes you uncomfortable, feeling like each touch has to be accompanied by sexual intimacy. Why does it have to be like that?

Once the distance between you decreases he quickly pulls you close, wraps his arms around your torso tightly. Afraid of losing you.

“D-don’t pull away just yet, okay?” You stay, without saying a word. Hajime doesn’t say much either, it doesn’t take long for your breathing to sync with one another. It was peaceful, tranquil. His hand instinctively travels lower towards your waist, and just like clockwork, you pull away, resisting the strength of his arms. You should have known by now that Hajime can rage storms with his eyes but shut them down just as fast with the way his arms bring so much peace.

“Why?” He asks. This isn’t a normal look for Hajime, he looks like he is on the brink of tears. And you feel yours begin to pour. He doesn’t deserve this. You don’t get to treat him like this. Poor boy just wants to show you what genuine touch feels like and you refuse to give him a chance. “Why can’t I touch you? Why can’t I hold you?” He feels so bad. Hajime tries to rethink about all the things he might have done that led you to feeling unbearable being held by him.

Resolve crumbling at your feet. Physical touch is his way of expressing his love, it’s always something that has always bring him comfort, stability, it has grounded him in many situations. He wants to feel close to you, but he has never felt so far away. It feels like a part of himself is always missing, hiding within you. This is cruel. This is isolating.

Without saying much you crouch to reach him, arms wrapping his shoulders, snuggling your head in his neck, situating in its rightful place. You two don’t share much words in this moment, not much is needed to be said anyway. The way he’s breaking down, longing so badly for the touch of his beloved, so much it hurts. The way his neurons fire, sending chills down his back and the way his skin heats up at the moment you make contact. You hold him and you don’t let go. You stay until you both are spent from the tears you shed. “I’ll hold you like this forever if I could, Haji, I’m sorry.” You believe that you finally get it now. Physical touch doesn’t have to feel evil, it can feel just like this. His hands find your torso again, timid, but he’s willing to try. he sighs into your touch, so relieved to be reconnected with the part of himself he once relinquished to you.

#as someone who has a lot of trouble giving into physical touch #even tho I’m touch starved #this one is for the girlies that feel the same way as me #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #hq shorts #iwaizumi fluff #Iwaizumi Hajime #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #⌑ 5 LL series ⌑#iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi headcanons #haikyu angst #angst to fluff kinda

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kykyonthemoon · 5 months

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Blue Ribbon

Distracted from his work by you, he decided to use your special blue ribbon for another purpose.

ಇ. Zayne x Female Reader/MC

ಇ. Tags: fluff, established relationship, MC being a baby, tied hands, soft bite

ಇ. Word count: ~1k4

ಇ. Requested by Ann.

ಇ. Masterlist

It initially started out as a date between you and Zayne.

You had planned ahead of time, opted for a light spring outfit, and wore a long blue ribbon in your hair with two tiny snowflake-shaped charms at both ends. You decided on it because it reminded you of Zayne.

You arrived at the hospital fifteen minutes before the scheduled date. Zayne was yet to leave his office. Yvonne informed you about an important meeting that Dr. Zayne needed to attend. You sat and waited outside his office for a while. Then, as if he knew you had arrived, he opened the door and welcomed you inside.

"Would that bother your work?" You inquired, and Zayne shook his head.

"Not a problem. The meeting has ended. There are only a few more things I need to take care of. Is it alright if you wait a little longer?"

You nodded. The office door closed behind him. For nearly the next hour, you obediently waited in the room. Feeling bored, you took out your phone to play with, wandered about the room, or sipped some tea. Zayne was still working intently on the computer as if you were not present. Sometimes, you could not help but feel a little sorry for yourself.

He failed to even glance at you, let alone praise you on how gentle your makeup was that day. Despite the fact that you were fully aware of Zayne's work ethic and the significance of his work, that afternoon was intended to be for you rather than the computer. The main reason you disagreed with it was that he lately had to work hard for several days in a row. You made him commit to spend time with you that afternoon. However, something unexpected occurred, causing his shift to be prolonged.

You felt both saddened and disappointed. You would sometimes approach him and poke him, as if to remind him that you still existed and that he needed to interact with you, even if only for a few minutes. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, his hands raced on the keyboard, and he spoke:

“Don't mess around. I'm almost done.”

Hearing that, you sighed again. When he stated he was almost done, it meant that his session lasted for nearly another hour. It was no longer dusk. You lamented your plan to go for an afternoon walk around Linkon City. But seeing him as a workaholic upset you so much. Finally, you decided that you would carry out your "scheme".

You got between him and the monitor. At first, you just stood there obstructing his view. Zayne gently drew you out of there when you took the opportunity to take his hand and sat on his lap. Zayne seemed astonished, but his intense concentration prevented him from saying anything further to you. He let you sit on his lap, arms wrapped around you, and resumed typing.

Anger swelled in your heart. Even though you had no idea how urgent his business was, you did not appreciate being left out on your own date. He made a promise to spend the afternoon with you, and if there was an emergency, he would certainly let you know and reschedule the date rather than keep you waiting like this. Apparently, he just loved to work overtime.

In Zayne's lap, your body started to move. You deliberately turned around to wrap both arms around Zayne's neck. Your whisper found its way to his ear:

“Doctor Zayne, you promised to spend the afternoon with me. But you don't pay attention to me even just for a minute."

"Be still." Zayne's voice remained courteous and full of patience. "I still have another urgent meeting—"

"No!" You interrupted him. “Your shift ended a few hours ago.”

You felt Zayne's breath on your forehead as he replied: "Good girl. Please wait a bit longer."

But you chose not to be good. You gave him a pout before pressing your body close to his chest. You seized him firmly and kept urging:

“Take a break! Take a break! Doctor Zayne!”

Zayne was literally an iceberg. He was unmoved by your whining. You grew so helpless that you nibbled hard on his ear.

“Hmmph!”

Perhaps that was Zayne's limit. His expression stiffened. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you off his lap. His other hand swiftly removed the blue ribbon from your head, forcing your already tidy hair to fall down.

You blinked with astonishment. You could only stand there and watch Zayne knot both of your hands with that ribbon. The knot was so tight that your wrists could not move at all. Zayne rose up, brought you down in his chair, and frowned.

"Stay there. I'm heading to the meeting hall and will be back later."

After finishing his speech, he picked up a file on the table and quickly walked out. After the door was closed, you sat still in disbelief of what had just transpired. It appeared like he had bound your hands using a surgeon's knot, which is widely used in surgery. This sort of knot required a lot of work to remove. You moved your hands around, just to make those minimal snowflake charms swing as if they were mocking you that Zayne had actually used his Evol to keep you in place.

You were speechless that Zayne would do that only to stop you from disturbing him. You were alone in his office, stunned and bitter. Perhaps you went too far when you bit him. You should have been more reasonable and waited for him to finish his work. You had waited for him longer than this before. Had you upset him? You were torn between sulking at him and apologizing first.

Zayne returned about a half hour later to undo the knot for you. He took you out to supper and then returned to your apartment. Throughout the ride, you spoke nothing to Zayne but a few quick responses as necessary. You still were not sure how to adequately express how you felt for him. What if he got mad and was ready to tie you up again?

But you were not expecting Zayne to grasp your hands as soon as you arrived home. He took a close look and massaged your wrists.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

He asked. You withdrew your hands again and turned away.

"No."

He could tell you were sulking by the tone of your speech. He pulled you back and embraced you from behind. It was his turn to explain:

"I'm really sorry. Today's work was so urgent that I could not postpone it until tomorrow. On another note, you may do whatever you want when it's just the two of us; but at work, it's not a smart idea. Since, if you continue to be naughty like that, I would…”

“What would you do, Doctor Zayne?” You were curious, and got the urge to tease him even more.

“I would be too distracted.”

"Alright. I'm sorry, too..." You smiled and spoke sweetly, yet there was a hint of huff in your voice. "But you didn't need to tie me up like that."

You struggled like a worm in his embrace. Zayne easily held you tightly with just one arm, the other hand stroked your hair.

"Alright. It is my fault. I should not have tied you up and left you at the office. I will compensate for you, okay?"

You remained silent while waiting for him to offer a good proposal.

"My entire day off tomorrow is dedicated to you."

"Hmm." You seemed less than satisfied. You turned around and gazed into Zayne's eyes. "I still want one more thing."

Zayne grinned, "Sure."

"You don't know what I'm going to ask for, and you've already agreed? Once you've said it, you can't take it back!"

He patted your head and reaffirmed: "I won't take it back."

You smiled as if you were plotting something, then pulled out your blue ribbon and lifted it in front of Zayne. It was time for him to feel the thrill of being tied with his own surgeon's knot. You requested:

"Show me how to tie that knot!"

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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The Contractor. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 6 of 6)

4k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader / pt 1 / master list

STORY MASTER LIST

Warnings/Notes: I8+ some angst, dry (wet?) humping, unsafe PIV SEX (!), legal age gap. Acronyms - RICO is about organized crime. barely edited.

It’s so close. It’s finally here. His hand slides under your shirt, runs over your back then pulls you closer. He feels so good, it’s like a dream. But the more you wake up, the more your thoughts creep in. You want the truth. You pry your lips away from his, and right away, he latches onto your neck. “What did my Dad want?” you ask. Between kisses, he murmurs, “don’t worry about it.”

Joel shows you his phone and your dad is at the gate. He thinks in silence for a moment.

“Well, we’re not doing anything,” you offer, but your heart is pounding. “Don’t let him in.”

“I’ve gotta let him in. What’s he gonna think if I don’t?”

He rubs his beard and opens his home automation app. “You’re in the pool house,” he decides. He turns on a dim light in the pool house.

“What does he want?” you ask.

“Hell if I know. Go through the basement.”

“No way.”

“Come on, Trouble.”

“I’m not going through the tunnel alone.”

He seems endeared by your fear. “Do it for us,” he says with a wink that makes your heart jump. Then he gets up to take the drinks to the sink.

“Wait,” you say.

He freezes.

“What were you gonna say? Now that I know . . . ?”

“Now that you know, I don’t have to worry about you finding out later and being mad.”

You kind of doubt that’s what he was going to say. “I’m mad anyway,” you say.

“Figured. It’s okay.”

A car door opens and closes.

“Go,” he whispers. “I’ll come get you when he’s gone.”

You make it to the pantry stairs just in time.

When your dad comes in, Joel says, “Welcome back.”

Your dad asks, “Where’s my girl?”

“Sleepin’ it off in the pool house, I reckon. Didn’t want her to drive.”

There’s a long pause and your heart races.

Your dad says, “Good, good. . .thanks.”

Damn, Joel is smooth. He asks your dad, “Somethin’ you didn’t wanna call about?”

“Yeah. . .”

You’re tempted to stay and hear more, but you’re also afraid of what you might hear. You creep down the stairs quietly. You think about going to the theater instead and waiting in one of those recliners. It’s silly, but you really don’t want to go underground to the pool house. The tunnel is climate controlled and has automatic lights, but it’s still spooky without windows.

You’re standing near the tunnel entrance trying to work up your nerve when you hear raised voices, and now you can’t resist. You quietly make your way back toward the stairs to listen. If no one is going to tell you what’s going on, this is your chance to find out. It occurs to you there’s no reason for you to go all the way to the pool house except that Joel doesn't want you to hear this. Otherwise, you could have hidden anywhere and your dad would be none the wiser.

A cabinet slams shut and Joel demands, “How many aren’t you tellin’ me about?”

“Not tellin’ you? I just found out! I’m not in charge, you know that.” Glasses clink with ice.

“North of the fuckin’ border again. God damnit,” Joel says. He’s even more heated than he was in the car the other day.

Your dad asks, “What do I have to do to get you all in on this? Let’s get it done and be done with it.”

“You know what I want. I want out.”

“You’ll be out.”

“I want it in writing.”

Your dad scoffs. “You want a paper trail now? When the whole point was to keep your charges off paper?”

“Not the charges, damnit.”

“Then what do you want in writing? You made some bad guys go away in exchange for evidence going away, now we’re square?”

“It was supposed to be a six month contract. Here we are, how many renewals later? And I’m still consulting.” You can picture the air quotes with the way he says it.

“Still better than 20 years for RICO,” your dad says.

“Never woulda gotten the max. . . You know what? At least the wiseguys have a code.”

Your dad sharpens his tone. “Ever wonder what happened to that evidence?”

“FUCK” A glass shatters. “I’m never gettin’ out. Just say it.”

“This is the last-”

“Don’t string me along with this one last job bullshit, then the job’s a whole fuckin’ cartel. Call it what it is. I’m an asset. Not a contractor if I don’t got a fuckin’ choice.”

“You’re gonna be out.”

“You won’t even give me your word.”

“Joel, you have my word.”

“Alright,” Joel calms down a little. “And what about you? You ever think about your daughter in all this? You want her on tiktok seein’ your head roll off one day ‘cause you couldn’t take the loss and retire?”

“Don’t talk about my daughter.”

There’s a moment of silence, then your dad continues.

“We’re on the same team, buddy. I want this over as bad as you do. C’mon, let’s look at the intel.”

You’re sick to your stomach. Whatever this is sounds like it’s about your dad’s ego. What’s new. You shrink back to the tunnel and jog through it so it’s over fast.

You’re laying on the couch in the pool house, and you don’t even want to think about what you just heard. So you’re replaying the earlier conversation in your head. The one about your stepmother and . . . gross. Something doesn’t sit right about it. You’re trying to figure out why Joel would have felt guilty for you blackmailing him into sex.

It hits you that the only reason he’d feel guilty is if it were his doing. . . If he realized you thought you had leverage and saw an opportunity. Deprive you, make you want it that bad, see if you’d try to twist his arm into it. And once you got there, game over? Was he just getting off on having the power all along? Then you ask yourself the real question. If that’s the case . . . do you wish none of it ever happened? It’s an easy no.

So you put that to rest and can’t help but think about what you overheard between Joel and your dad. You want to know how this all happened, but from the way Joel was talking about heads rolling off, you’re most worried about what he and your dad are up to right now. You want to hear it from Joel. You want to know what his real job is. The truth might be the only thing you want more than to fuck him. And if he won’t tell you the truth, maybe he doesn’t deserve the latter.

You’re exhausted from being in the sun all day. There’s a big, heavy blanket – silky, not exactly cozy. It’s like a rich guy blanket, probably put there by an interior decorator. You curl up on the oversized couch and pull it over you. There’s a bedroom, but you don’t expect this to take as long as it does, so you don’t get in bed. You stay on the couch. It feels like Joel is taking forever, but you’re too tired to even look at the time. You take off your shorts and bra, swaddle yourself in the blanket, and drift off.

You don’t hear Joel come in or take off his pants or put his stuff on the table. You feel cold for a moment when he lifts the blanket, but then he gets under it with you and takes you into his arms, and he’s warm.

You stir, and Joel whispers, “You wanna get in bed?”

You shake your head no.

“It’s right there . . .”

“No,” you manage weakly. You’re not remembering any of the drama at the moment, just enjoying being in his arms and too sleepy to move.

“Ok,” he whispers, and kisses you on the head. You fall back asleep with your head in the crook of his neck.

. . .

In the middle of the night, you wake up in his arms with one of his legs hooked over both of yours and his boxers pressed against your panties, which are soaked with arousal, you can feel it. He’s only somewhat hard, but it’s enough to make you need it, bad. He smells freshly showered but you can still catch a hint of his sweat, which makes you need it worse. Your nose brushes his beard as you look up at his face.

He blinks awake with sleepy eyes. He presses his lips into yours for a long kiss that starts light, affectionate, closed-mouth, then becomes desperate, invasive. You accept his tongue greedily. He hardens right against your crotch. His hips roll into yours, and before long, he’s rock hard, and you softly moan “mmm” into his mouth.

He whispers, “Are you on-”

“Yeah,” you cut him off. Then he covers your mouth with his lips again. Yeah, you’re on birth control, and the question makes you throb as he kisses you. It’s so close. It’s finally here. It’s grinding into you right now. His hand slides under your shirt and runs over your bare back, pulling you closer against him, and he moans softly. He feels so good, it’s like a dream.

But the more you wake up, the more your thoughts creep in. You really, really want the truth. It dawns on you this might be your best shot at getting it.

You pry your lips away from his, and right away he latches onto your neck.

“What did my Dad want?” you ask him.

Between kisses on your neck, he murmurs, “don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me what’s going on,” you demand.

He rolls his arousal into your clit and you bite your lip to suppress a moan while you wait for his answer.

“Not now, sugar. . .”

He lifts your shirt swiftly but smoothly and palms a breast, then is hard-on drags down your thigh and you feel a damp spot on his boxers. He takes your nipple into his mouth while he pulls your shirt off, and you help him, despite your reservations. You need the truth, but you’re aching. Your body needs to be filled by his.

“Not now. . . so, when?” you ask.

“When I’m back,” he sighs.

“Back from what?”

He doesn’t answer. He lightly drags his lips over the top curve of your breast, over your shoulder, up your throat, your jaw, to your ear.

His boxers find your drenched panties again and press against you in just the right place. He’s so stiff, it takes your breath away, and a soft moan falls out of your mouth. He whispers, “This is all that matters,” and you want him to be right so bad. He nibbles then sucks your neck right under your ear. He grinds his rock-hard member into you in a slow rhythm at just the right angle.

“This,” he says, looking from your eyes to your mouth and back. He wraps his arms around you, grinding into you rhythmically. He kisses you again, and his tongue erases whatever words were on yours. Blood rushes to your lips with the gentle suction of his own. With his face still on yours, he slowly, carefully takes his boxers off under the blanket.

You slide your hand down his abdomen and your breath hitches as you graze the light padding of his lower stomach. You find that small, circular scar and gently caress it. He flinches, then moves your hand to his cock. It sends a bolt of need to your aching clit, but you still have to ask.

“What’s it from?”

“C’mere,” he says, and latches onto your mouth again as he thrusts into your hand.

You want his lips on yours forever. You want nothing more than to just give in and fuck him. You push yourself up with your arm and he rolls onto his back. You shrug off the blanket. He watches you in a trance as you straddle him with his cock still in your hand. You thumb his scar again and he says, “you know I served.” Right. Of course.

His stomach rises and falls, and his head tilts slightly as he watches you nestle his naked cock at your drenched, silky underwear, right against your clit. You roll your hips into him and moan at the friction.

“Let’s lose these, sugar,” he pants. He hooks his fingers into your underwear and you lift each leg to slowly slip out of them.

You settle back in, then close your eyes, tilt your hips, and use him to pleasure yourself. You drag along his cock, from your clit to your dripping entrance and back, making his manhood shine with you, and he groans. Then you lay your hips onto his again and his hips rock against you, with his unfathomably hard cock gliding firmly against your slick.

He moans and breathes heavily. “I gotta be inside you, sugar,“ he says as he grinds into you rhythmically.

“I’ve gotta know the truth,” you reply, but it physically pains you.

He groans. “Fuck,” he pants. “What do you wanna know?”

“What you’re up to,” you say as you use your hips to massage yourself with his stiff manhood.��

He takes a deep breath. “It’s complicated,” he says, and you inwardly acknowledge he’s probably right. You stop moving and start to back yourself down his thighs. You bend at the hip and hover over his cock.

“Are you still in construction?” You stroke him slowly.

“Still own the business.” He adjusts his hips under you.

“But that’s not all you do.” You bring it almost to your mouth and take a deep whiff of his musk which makes you twitch with need.

“No,” he quietly admits.

You think about how to simplify this and get it over with. You throw caution to the wind and ask, “Do you kill people?” You thumb the precum beading at his tip. No immediate answer. Then, you take his salty tip into your mouth for just a kiss and he groans. You take it out.

He sighs. “You really wanna know?” He thrusts into your hand.

You give it another kiss. “Yeah.”

You slowly crawl back up his body and lay half on him and he rolls toward you so you’re on your side like before. You hook your top leg over him. You search his eyes for an answer, but he looks down at your bodies instead. His large hand engulfs your ass cheek, caresses it with his palm, then gives it a firm squeeze and pulls you hard against him, and your wet pussy meets his stiff cock again.

“What do you think?” He asks quietly, then buries his nose in your neck and whispers, “Cause you’re prolly right.” Your heart skips a beat. You wanted more, but at the same time, it feels like he just told you everything he has to tell - or that’s what you’re trying to believe, for your body’s sake. You don’t feel anything about what he just said. All you feel is him, and that’s all you want.

He groans as he grinds into you, and his neck vein bulges. He rolls his arousal harder against your slick seam and kisses your neck. “Come on, sugar,” he says.

You open your mouth but don’t have any words, you can only breathe. He ruts against you again and you close your eyes with a moan. You’re throbbing, physically aching, swollen with need, dying to have him.

“Gotta be inside you now baby,” Joel repeats, smooth and low. He thrusts hard against your clit, slow, but so hard. His mouth devours yours, and your nipples harden against his broad chest. When his stiff member drags back down your clit, he hesitates at your entrance, then puts his hand on your ass, and the tip of his cock is caught by a tilt of your hips. Tension swells and tightens deep within you.

He begins to slowly push the firm head of his cock into your tight, wet hole and reads your face. You have to remind yourself to breathe. Your brow furrows. You bite your lip and inhale through your nose. You both adjust your hips so the angle is just right. He pushes a little more, and the stretch of his girth makes your whole body dizzy and desperate for more. He pauses and you just barely nod.

The arm under you pulls you closer with his hand flat on your back while his other hand braces on your leg that’s hooked over him. Then he pushes his stiff length into you with a grunt that becomes a loud sigh, and you gasp as his thick cock makes room for itself inside you. He pauses when he’s mostly in, and you look into each other’s eyes.

“Now fuck me,” you whisper.

“Yes ma’am,” he growls. He backs out all but the tip, then plunges into you completely. Your mouth falls open with a moan as your bodies are finally joined and he bottoms out with a shudder.

His lips latch onto yours as he retreats, then slams into you again with a grunt. He buries himself in you, slow and hard, each time somehow better than the last. Your hips roll into him, and together, you gradually up the tempo. You kiss sloppily, half your mouths breathing heavily and vocalizing against each other’s cheek. Each exhale is a moan.

His hips roll fluidly against yours and his whole body tells you how bad he’s been wanting this. Every time he fills you up, you could cry from how good it feels. He opens his mouth wide and puts it on your neck again, gently sucking your delicate skin into his mouth. He grabs hold of your ass and uses the arm under you to gently put you on your back without fully pulling out. Your legs wrap around him and he sheathes himself entirely once again.

You hook your fingers under the bottom hem of his t-shirt and pull it over his head. He takes in the view of your whole body again before he leans back down.

“You look so goddamn hot,” he says, looking down at you, thrusting into you. He looks hot, too.

The moonlight reveals a faint farmer’s tan from the barbecue. His pecs and triceps are pumped up and flexing as he moves in rhythm. His hair is messy and perfect. The silver bits of his beard glisten.

He leaves space between you and reaches down to thumb your clit, almost putting you over the edge, but you quickly take his hand and pull his body back into yours.

“About to come?” he asks. You nod and take a deep breath. He thrusts into you hard then slowly rocks his hips deep inside you with his neatly trimmed hair grinding into your clit. The tension bursts inside you and you groan his name as a massive wave of pleasure overwhelms you. Then another. You clench around him and your body jerks erratically. Your nipples go almost painfully hard and drag against him.

He pushes deeper than you thought possible, balls tightening against your ass, and you gasp and moan. Then he grunts, pulses inside you, and his whole body shudders as you milk his cock. You keep pulsing as he fills you up with his seed. Your whole body is drunk with him. When you’re both finished coming, he looks at you, and himself, then you again as he catches his breath. He strokes your face and says, “god damn.”

You almost forget you’re two different bodies until he slides out of you, leaving a void your insides try to fill. He lays on his side and takes you in his arms again.

He looks so peaceful. At the moment, you don’t care if you still don't know what’s going on. You don’t even care if he manipulated you into wanting this so desperately. All you care about is whether this is going to happen again, and you’re terrified of finding out it’s not. You start to worry about him going to do this job.

After a long silence, you say, “You don’t wanna do it, do you?”

“Do what?”

“Whatever you have to go and do.”

The peace evaporates from his face. He sighs. “No. . . No, I don’t, sugar.” He rubs his temples with the thumb and pinky of one massive hand.

“Then why do it?”

“No choice,” he says.

“That’s messed up,” you say. “I mean, not having a choice.”

“Yeah, well, it was my own dumb ass. Thought I was gettin’ outta somethin’ worse. Didn’t know what I was gettin’ into.”

“How do you get out of it now?”

“Finish the job, call it a day, see what happens.”

“Really?”

“It’s been a long time comin’.”

A couple seconds after he says it, a little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t have to make the joke out loud. You playfully pinch his cheek.

“Worth the wait?” he asks with a smirk.

You shrug, and he says, “I’ll take it.” You can feel your whole face and body glowing. You don’t need to spell it out.

You get pensive thinking about why now, why tonight. “You weren’t just pissed at my dad, were you?”

He chuckles, then almost seems to panic when he sees you’re serious. “God, no, Trouble. . . “ His heart rate visibly quickens on his neck. He didn’t even have to ask you what you meant. He wraps his arms tight around you and kisses your head.

“So whatever happened to ‘not tonight’?” you ask.

“Couldn’t help it,” he says. “Neither could you.” Well, that’s true. “Plus, now I don't have to worry ‘bout you findin’ out you didn’t blackmail me. That woulda broken your sick little heart.”

“Maybe,” you say, still a little paranoid, but you push the thoughts away.

“I don’t think your dad needs to know about this,” he says. “That woulda been a sick serve though if I was mad at him,” he chuckles.

“Did you just say sick serve. . . “

“Sick serve,” he whispers in your ear.

“I don’t think that means what you– where do you pick this stuff up, anyway?”

“Prolly Jesse, he never shuts up.”

“So, Jesse’s-”

Joel puts his thumb on your lips. “Said too much already,” he says. “ You gotta keep it to yourself, okay?” You give his thumb a little bite before he takes it away.

It’s funny, you never had anything over him before, but now you kinda do. Not that you’ll do anything with it. Too dangerous.

“Yeah,” you say.

After a long silence, you ask, “What are you gonna do when it’s over?”

He sighs and adjusts his arms around you. “This right here,” he says. “If you want.”

You fall asleep in his arms again.

When you wake up, he’s gone. It’s light outside. Birds are chirping. You have a text from him that says “Stay here if you want. Back in a couple days.” You don’t stay there. It’s too creepy without him. You go back to your apartment, but you worry about him a lot and check your phone constantly. A few days later, you get off work, and when you walk out of the bookstore, he’s parked there, leaning against his truck, ankles crossed, wearing Ray Bans and a t-shirt, jeans as tight as ever, arms tucked under his massive biceps.

“Here comes trouble” he says as he pushes himself off his truck. He puts his hands on his hips and lets his pants adjust as he pops out one knee.

Your lips meet as he wraps his arms around you.

“All done?” you ask.

“Let’s celebrate,” he says. “Got that same suite on the river. Booked it for the rest of the month, so I reckon I’ll be around.”

Thank you for reading and engaging with this story for all six parts, y'all have been so awesome!

FWIW I see this as a happy ending with ominous undertones lol. I think I will come back to these two in the future (assuming there's still interest now that they've fucked). That's why I didn't blow my whole load in over explaining the subplot in this part. I initially included the sub plot so there would be an interesting basis to come back to them after the main story.

I just started another (darker) dad's best friend story: Left in Lincoln. In addition to smut it's also slow burn horror but no gore. Heed warnings. . .

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