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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

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TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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getouswh0re · 3 years

Text

JJK REACTIONS:

❤︎ how they react to you singing Kiss Me More by Doja Cat ❤︎

an; slight ns/fw with certain characters, warnings none, mainly fluff and crack. enjoy! ❤︎

“I feel like fucking something —“

Little did you know, a certain sorcerer has been watching as you hum the lyrics to kiss me more; suddenly, a pair of skinny arms loop themselves around your shoulders as GOJO nuzzles his face affectionately into your neck.

“Hmm? what’s that, darling?”

“I feel like fucking something something, and that something is you.” Upon the suggestion, his glasses drops onto the bridge of his nose, inquisitive cerulean eyes staring into yours.

“Oh?” In the blink of an eye, Gojo has flung you over his shoulder, dashing towards your shared bedroom despite your frantic pleas of getting him to put you down. “If you want my dick you should’ve said so darling, I would’ve given you ~“

“IT’S A JOKE GOJO KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS —”

OKKOTSU would be so blushy when he hears such suggestive lyrics! You know how shy the sorcerer could be when it comes to things like these, and decides that you would make good use of the chance to tease him for a bit.

“W-What’s with those lyrics y/n??” Hands flailing to cover his beet red face, the sorcerer nervously peeks from the gaps between his fingers. Somehow, Maki and the other second years are nearby when they accidentally overhear the conversation between the two of you.

“Hmm? There’s nothing wrong with the lyrics though.” A wry smirk creases your face as you inch closer to your boyfriend. “I said I feel like fucking something, and that something is you ~”

Poor boy feels like he’s on the verge of passing out; and to make matters worse, he gets teased by his fellow classmates (and Gojo too — what do you expect) for the next few days. They’re not planning to let him off the hook with potential blackmail material, at least not for a while.

The moment you start to sing, ITADORI’S ears park up — prancing over to latch onto you like a excited puppy with a wagging tail. “What are we doing, babe?” He would stare at you, batting those puppy eyes with such adoration that it makes your heart melt on the spot. “Quickie? We doing it? Hold on, lemme take off my pants —“

“Yuji, Yuji!” The vessel stops fumbling with his trousers and stares at you perplexed, his quirked eyebrows knitting into a prominent frown. Smiling at your disappointed boyfriend, you place your hand over his with utmost tenderness. “It’s just a lyric from kiss me more, we can’t do it right now okay? Sorry for pranking you ...”

“So ... no glock for you?” 🥺💀😭😹

MEGUMI has enough to deal with on a daily basis to deal with anymore shit. He is technically the babysitter of the first years plus keeping an eye on the man child called Gojo Satoru; with all of these responsibilities weighing on his shoulders, the poor raven doesn’t have the energy to deal with stupid shenanigans like these. Still, he would be a bit more lenient when it comes to you; compared to the rest, Megumi wouldn’t mind if you were the one annoying him, if it means that he gets to spend a bit more time with you after an exhausting week of exorcising curses.

“Love ... I know you are horny, but tone it down please.” An exasperated groan slips from his lips while the raven lowers his head onto your lap, face snuggling into your tummy with a pout on his face. Wearing a cheeky grin on your face, you reach out, running your fingers through his tangled locks with delicacy, to which Megumi breathes out a gratified sigh. “Itadori and Gojo have already shedded enough years off my life just by breathing, I don’t need anything more than that —”

Hearing such words of complaint coming from your worn-out boyfriend, the smirk on your face grows; snaking your hands from his hair down to his toned thighs, you writhe yourself off the couch — only making Megumi frown even more. But the pout on his face is gradually replaced by heat surging to his cheeks once the sorcerer realises what you’re about to do.

“Would you like some stress relief babe?”

“Not now y/n —”

A knowing smirk ghosts across GETO’S face as you fail to cognise what you’ve signed yourself up to. Your original plan is to simply give the raven a good tease; little did you know, he has so much more in store just for you. With your goal accomplished — spotting the grin on your boyfriend’s face, you are about to leave when he has you pinned against the wall.

Heat immediately spreads to the rest of your face with each second Geto moves closer to you; soon enough, his nose is merely inches away from your cheeks, hot breath fanning the nape of your neck.

“Sugu, I wish we could do this right now, but I still have priorities to sort out.”

“Hmm? You sure you’re not just chickening out, sweetheart?” Quirking his eyebrow, Geto savours the flustered disposition worn on your face. He knows he should’ve gone easier on you, but the raven simply couldn’t help it. You are just too adorable for his own good.

“Look at me darling, you did this to me.” He pauses, pointing at his trousers where the curse user’s bulge is straining heavily against the tough fabric. With one hand lifting your chin, Geto’s voice drops an octave, finally closing the distance between the two of you. “You’ve riled me up big time, and you’ll need to finish off what you’ve started.”

Oh boy, say less, because Toji is determined to make sure you get the best fuck of your life with an opportunity like this. Once the lyrics reach his ears, he has you hoisted out of the couch — moving to the bedroom as soon as he could. He would flip you onto your hands and knees and ram into your tight hole for hours on end, your whimpers and hoarse pleas falling on deaf ears as Toji chases his own climax and finishes off by spurting load after load into you, with excess hot cum trickling down the insides of your trembling thighs. And if you think you’re finally done, you’re wrong. Rest in peace my friend, you’re probably not going to walk for the next week with your legs.

Believe me or not, CHOSO doesn’t have the slightest idea what you have up your sleeve. He’s a cursed womb after all, and curses like him aren’t exactly up-to-date with the latest trends in the modern society. Nevertheless, our home boy is willing to do anything to make you happy, even though he’s probably clueless about what is going on someone save him.

“y/n, what are you humming?” The light in his tired eyes rekindle for a split second as they fixate on you, eager to take in every single one of your expressions. “The song sounds catchy, could you teach me the lyrics?”

Despite feeling bad for corrupting Choso’s innocence, the naughty side of you anticipate what would his reaction be once he learns about the implications of the song. Having that in mind, you proceed with your singing.

“I feel like fucking something, and that something is you babe —”

A faint blush dusts the curse womb’s pale cheeks as he buries his face into your chest, mumbling inaudibly that you could barely hear what he has said. “You should’ve given me a heads-up y/n, now what am I supposed to do? I can’t look at you the same anymore, not when this song is playing ...”

Bless him.

NANAMI’S gaze shifts onto you as you sing the lyrics out loud, winking suggestively as you bounce onto the blonde’s lap. He could feel his dick hardening, but keeps his composure nonetheless. The most he could do at the moment is to shoot you a disapproving glare, to which you return with a pout. You know him more than anyone else in the world, and you are 100% positive that if the two of you weren’t in public, Nanami would’ve flipped you over on the closest desk available and fucked you dumb. Nevertheless, him restraining himself at work doesn’t mean he’d do the same once the two of you are back home —

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flosbelova · 3 years

Text

Mine

Florence Pugh x Actress!Reader

summary: You’re a lead actress in a movie and one of your male co-stars keeps on flirting with you. You tell your girlfriend, Florence, about it and she insists on showing him who you belong to.

warnings: implied sexual themes (?)

word count: 1.6k+

After auditioning for countless roles, you were finally called back by one and was offered the lead role. You and Florence screamed at the top of your lungs and celebrated after hearing the news from your agent.

It’s your first day of rehearsals and you’re finally getting to meet your co-stars. Your co-star, Ryan, was given the male lead. He’s a tall guy and pretty muscular. His jawline was sharp and had a pointed chin. His smile was one of the nicest smiles you’ve ever seen. However, all of his nice physical features went away as he came up to you.

“Hey, I’m Ryan, you must be Y/n. I’ll be playing one of your love interests,” he says, his arm rubbing against yours.

Your body instinctively moved away from him. You forced a smile.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you managed to say.

“Um, so after rehearsals,” he says, putting an arm around your shoulder, “do you wanna grab a drink?” he smiles.

You take a deep breath. “No thank you, I have a girlfriend,” you say as you take his arm off your shoulders.

“Well, what she doesn’t know won’t kill her,” he says, trying to touch you again.

You caught his hand. “Dude, I already told you ‘no.’”

“Is everything alright here?” One of your female co-stars asked.

You dropped Ryan’s hand and smiled. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

“Um, alright. The director wanted us to start rehearsals.”

“Alright, let me walk with you,” you say walking after her. As you catch up to her, you whisper a quick “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispers back.

Finally after a long day of rehearsals, you’re back home.

“Y/N!” Florence exclaims, “you’re back! I made pizza!”

The sound of excitement coming from your girlfriend should have been enough to calm you down, but this time it wasn’t. You were so uncomfortable from your day that you had no energy left for your favorite girl.

Sitting on your couch, staring at the blank TV, your girlfriend nudges you. You didn’t bother to look at her. You wanted to be alone.

Florence takes a deep breath. “Okay, I guess we’re having dinner in the living room,” she says to herself as she places the tray of pizza on the coffee table. She grabs you a slice of pizza and hands it to you.

“I’m not hungry,” you say, pushing away the plate.

Florence takes another deep breath. “Alright, do you want anything to drink?”

“No. I don’t want anything,” your voice rose. “Please leave me alone!”

Florence flinched as you yelled at her. Her eyebrows furrowed and her frown was visible.

“Y/n, please, calm down. Talk to me,” she says in a calming tone.

“I just told you I don’t want to talk!” You utter loudly. Out of annoyance, you get up and go into your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Florence cleaned up the living room and put the pizza inside the refrigerator. She wiped her hands on her apron and took it off. She sniffled and wiped the tears that she didn’t even realize was there. She went towards the bedroom door and hesitated on opening it. Instead, she knocked.

“Y/n, I’m going in. This is my room too,” she says, opening the door.

You take a deep breath. You were laying on your side, facing away from her. You felt the bed dip behind you as your girlfriend crawled onto bed. Florence wrapped arms around you.

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on.”

You sigh and sit up on the bed. “Fine.”

You proceed to tell Florence about your unfortunate, eventful day on set. You told her about Ryan and how he kept coming up to you, flirting with you, and finding reasons to touch you. And you mentioned the fact that he even tried asking you out.

Of course, Florence was heated. Her frown was visible, her eyebrows furrowed, and her ears were red. She shared your anger. And she felt threatened. How Ryan dares to take her girlfriend from her. Florence came up with a solution.

“I’m coming with you to set tomorrow,” she says, taking a deep breath.

“What? No. It would make things worse,” you protest.

“It won’t. I promise you. I need to have a chat with him,” she says sternly.

Florence is the type of person who will stand her ground and stand up for the people she loves. She also hates it when people try to take her favorite person away from her.

“I don’t want him trying to take you away from me,” Florence confesses.

“Honey, I promise you, no one can ever take me away from you,” you reassure her.

You lean in and press a soft kiss against her lips. She kisses back, this time with more passion. She slips her tongue inside your mouth and explores, tasting every bit of you. You pull away to catch your breath and Florence straddles your lap. Holding your face in her hands, she looks at you, admiring you and thinks about how lucky she is to have you.

“What?” you ask as you look into her green eyes.

“Nothing, I’m just admiring my beautiful girlfriend,” her smile growing bigger, “and how lucky I am to have her.” She plants a soft kiss on your lips and rests her forehead against yours.

“I should be the one saying that,” you respond. “I’m very lucky to have you, Flo.”

“Well, let me show you how lucky you are to have me,” Florence says as she lays you on your back.

The next day came quickly. Florence came with you to set as she said she would. She held your hand as you walked towards craft service. And to your luck, Ryan was there. When Ryan saw you, he smiled, but it quickly disappeared as he saw Florence kissing you on your cheek.

As you and Florence sit in your chairs, ready to eat, Ryan comes up to the both of you.

“Hi, Y/n!” He greets you with a big smile. “Hi, I’m Ryan, I’m a BIG fan!” He exclaims to Florence.

You look at Florence and she forces a smile and greets him. “Hi Ryan, Y/n here has told me a lot about you,” she says, her smile slowly disappearing.

Ryan chuckles nervously, “All good, I hope.”

Florence fakes a laugh. “Um, if you don’t mind, Y/n and I are trying to eat our meal before her day begins.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I understand. It was so nice meeting you, and Y/n, I’ll see you on set.”

As Ryan walks away, Florence turns to look at you. “Wow, that’s a disappointment.”

You nod in agreement.

“Alright, my love. I’ll be here. Break a leg!” Florence says to you as the director calls you to your spot. You give Florence a quick kiss, and run to your place.

Shooting went on smoothly. To your surprise, Ryan seemed to have backed off. It was a nice feeling and you were able to get through your day without having to worry if Ryan was gonna come up to you and flirt with you in between scenes.

The day came to an end very quickly as the director wrapped filming for the day. Florence was nowhere to be found, so you checked your phone.

I had to go to the restroom. I’ll be out in a sec.

“Y/n!” Ryan calls out, “Can I talk to you?”

You sigh and think to yourself, “my day was going so well.”

“Hey, uh, I didn’t know that Florence Pugh was your girlfriend,” he says.

“Yes, is there a problem with that?” you tilt your head.

“No, I just didn’t realize she would date someone as boring as you,” he laughs.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Florence says from behind him, making him turn.

“I said, I can’t believe that you would date someone as boring as Y/n,” He repeats. “Why don’t you break up with her? I could show you a good time.”

Florence looked like she was about to punch him. She would if she could, but it would only make things so much worse.

“I don’t think your penis will be enough to satisfy me,” she begins, “besides, Y/n already showed me a 'good time,’” she says, grabbing your hand.

“Oh yeah?” he scoffs. “When?”

Florence smiles and looks at you, then looks back at Ryan. “Last night,” Florence looks back at you and licks her lips. She leans in to kiss you and turns your body around so that it faces hers. As Florence kisses you, she opens her eyes and looks straight into Ryan’s eyes. As you both pull away, Florence looks at you and back at Ryan.

You turn around and see Ryan bright red.

Florence lets go of you and walks towards Ryan. “Now, I better not hear another complaint from Y/n about you ever again or else I’m getting you fired.”

Ryan looks defeated and nods. “I’m sorry Y/n,” he says.

You flip him off as you and Florence walk away.

“Thank God I don’t end up with his character,” you say, earning a chuckle from Florence.

As you get to your car, you reach to open the door for Florence but she stops you. Instead she pins you under her. You wrap your arms around her waist as she wraps her arms around your neck.

“You’re mine and mine only,” she says.

“I’m forever yours, Flo,” you respond.

You kiss her softly. She kisses back and runs her fingers through your hair. Florence deepens her kiss as if she’s hungry for more of you. Your bottom lip is caught in between her teeth and you slip a soft moan. This causes Florence to pull away. Catching your breaths, she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

“Let’s go home. I wanna show you a good time.”

The End

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh fanfic #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #fan fiction #wlw

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stylistiquements · 3 years

Text

Day 9 : Scronch'love.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : a lovely afternoon and an ancestral question; when are you going to join the dream smp?

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.5k

𐐪𐑂 Warning : swearing

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

“Have you been here for a long time?”

Time bends and twists into unknowns shapes when well spent. So, you’re so not sure. Long enough for your fairy garden to start looking like at least a proper garden, long enough for your feet to start fidgeting, brushing against the soft fabric of the blanket ever so slightly and softly.

“Can you share your screen?”

“I’m just picking flowers, there’s nothing much to see,” you warn but it never does the proper job.

“That’s fine, I like watching you play.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“Yeah. You’ve been playing for years and you’re still dog water. It's almost soothing,” you hear him grin through the silkiness of his voice.

You smile evasively, palm gripping the mouse and executing on memory. Soon, Sapnap’s satisfied noises hovers and everything is just how it’s supposed to be. You spend a while humming the music of days and nights of the game while building your project. Sap helps from time to time, giving advice when his attention is there and leaving trails of compliments on his way. You don’t think the garden is necessarily that good, you don’t mind either.

“Do you think the tree should go on the left or the right of the pond?” You ask, fingers drumming back and forth between the two options. Right he says. "What about the roses, do I plant some or not?"

“It’s just a detail, don’t hurt your brain too much on that,” he says in a light tone, but you disagree.

“Details are what make things important. Like when you remember I prefer warm pillows so you give me yours, it’s just a detail but it makes me happy.”

“Of course I do; you’re a baby,” he murmurs teasingly.

With an arched eyebrow, you retort, “says you,” and silence follows for a second as you plant the tree on the right of the pond.

“Yeah, Dream already made sure I was aware of that.”

“Not sure why the piss baby thinks he’s qualified to have this conversation, buddy,” you note and Sap chuckles are as vivid as contagious. “Why would he call you a baby anyway? What have you done?”

“I-I’m not telling you.” As soon as the mumbles fades, your phone sends loud vibrations on your desk. You abandon your character to the night and the wildness, picking the phone as you murmur a low oh, okay. Whether it’s to your phone or Sapnap, that, isn’t really clear. Still, Sapnap’s words sound more distant, more of what wonders are made of. On the screen, a twitter notification of a certain Karl Jacobs.

“You’re not even listening to me anymore,” Sapnap whines.

“I don’t listen to whiny babies, sorry.”

“We’re on the verge of divorce, yn and it’s your fault.”

A scoff skitters out through teasing lips, “But you still talk about me all the time, don’t you?” Your voice drags through different lands, unknown and musky.

“So what?” He splutters all awkward like it’s some kind of confidence that shouldn’t have left his thoughts and, somehow, you’re surprised the almighty confidence has left the game. “Who said that?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re obsessed with me, admit it,” you demand and though you don’t notice it, too tangled with the moment, the atmosphere is tinted with a different nuance like it’s suddenly dawn at the end of a summer party.

“So are you.”

Now, your heart drums a strange yet familiar rhythm. Something made of secrets and uncertainty, something you decided to leave unnamed a long time ago. Sapnap, you reason, can’t be lied to. He knows better than words half meant, half made up and it’s annoying, really, but he just does somehow. If you dare to lie, he would know and then it would be even more annoying.

“Yeah, you’re living in my head rent free but at least I’m not trying to hide it.” No answer. You peek at the game, you’ve been slain by a spider. “Karl said that,” you resign yourself. “He said he was about to join the vc by the way.”

Before the conversation can carry on, the sound of Karl joining the call resonates. Being in this Discord server is like living in a house with 10 siblings, that’s what you understand from the way Sap exhales heavily.

“Oh, I am interrupting something?” Karl says, struck by a peculiar energy.

“Besties time Karl, besties time,” Sapnap mumbles beneath his breath and it chimes a little like disappointment.

“Well, too bad I guess,” Karl exclaims. “It's about time I meet miss Bunnyshow.”

Karl is like that gif of a cat sitting in a tiny box with the caption “if it fits, I sit”.

“Does that mean our passive aggressive subweet arc is over?” You ask, faking the dejection when your smile grows wide.

“Oh god, I hope not. That’s my favorite part of the day.”

"It means a lot to me. Especially coming from my comfort streamer Karl Jacobs," you confess.

Satisfied, your attention gets back on the game; flowers rooting gracefully into the dirt and hives ready to host the beloved honey bugs as Karl and Sap catch up on time being apart. Everything is quiet and peaceful like the end of an afternoon well spent.

“I like your garden,” Karl points out and you hum a thank you beneath your breath.

“So you can take Karl’s compliments but not mine.”

“We’re besties you’re honor. Sapnap you can leave now, thank you,” Karl giggles and you follow along.

“Sorry Karl, there’s only room for one man in my heart and that has to be Sapnap.”

He fakes a cry to keep the theatrics before adding without transitions, “You know if you asked Dream he’d probably let you on the SMP.”

“No thanks,” you grin.

“Sapnap, your girl doesn’t want to play with us.”

“She’s already been whitelisted for months now,” Sapnap informs but fails to comment on the first part of the complaint.

He’s not lying, but you feel like it says more about Dream’s stubbornness than it says about you. As for your best friend, he understands better than anyone that wish for privacy and it’s something made of respect like yours for his career. You’d rather see him shaped by all the light than being touched by a glimpse of it. He does, after all, deserves it all. So, that’s the contract you made with yourself because it made sense; being a supportive shadow. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that you’ve never considered streaming before. It’s that it’s his world more than yours.

Karl, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to think the same way, “This is unacceptable, I gotta send a few texts.”

“Lost cause, dude, lost cause,” you grin but stubbornness seems to be a pre required trait for those mcyts.

Before you have time to find a suitable comment about the newborn group chat, a new person joins the call and Sapnap's annoyance is even more palpable, "No fucking way dude. We can't even have a second of peace on this server."

"Why would you be in a discord call if you want peace. You're just dumb," Quackity retorts with an energy he and he only can ever own.

Then George joins and Dream follows on his heels and soon your ears are filled with conversations that are as loud as scattered. Your shoulders sink in the back of your chair as soft fingers try to brush the upcoming migraine away. This is why you can't join the SMP; -not really but still- too much energy that has to be processed at all time. And you should know better, being friend with a very chaotic boy for the last 15 years, but you're not somehow.

"No, fuck that," Sapnap mutters. "I'm out."

"You can't leave now we have things to discuss," George exclaims. "Bunny, explain to me how Sapnap's proposition is more appealing than mine."

"Because I know her more than you do," he defends, and he's right. Money isn't of you interest. Love, on the other hand...

"Because she's like scronch'love," Karl giggles mindlessly.

"The fuck does scronch'love mean?" You ask, amused.

"It's very simple," Quackity intervenes. "If I offered you the same thing, would you even consider it?"

"Of course I would. What kind of question is that?"

"Fine. So, if Sapnap keeps his offer, here is mine; you become the president of Las Nevadas in addition to what he said."

"What?" Sapnap takes offense.

The call brims with an agitated confusion as you smile deviously, heels rooted into the floor to make your chair spin lightly and your fingers drum on your desk.

"I don't think you wanna do that," George corrects.

"Yeah, you absolutely don't," you confirm.

"Fine," he retorts. "So Sapnap's offer plus a Las Nevadas citizenship. How does that sound?"

"Like an offer I'll confider," you sigh. "So who's scronch'love now?"

"Still you," Dream answers. "Except you're also a big dummy."

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

A/N : helloooo,, how are you??? this part very self indulgent and I think this fic will be in general but I hope you liked it anyway. I love the idea of c!quackity always being too much and always having something to add to be even more over the top. I'm having more trouble than I thought about Bunny's and Sap's friendship because I want them to have a very special friendship but I hope it appears as such. idk. lmk what you think and thank you for reading it it makes me very happy <3 Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge ; @tinyegg ; @qnfdnf ; @paintingpetalsforyou ; @notjennaleigh ; @victoria-a567 ; @washy-washy ; @moneybagmarvel ;

#129 days #Sapnap smau #sapnap x reader #smau #social media au #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n #mcyt smau #sapnap series #sapnap fluff #mcyt x reader

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wornoutmouse · 4 years

Text

Day 8: Somnophilia

@ozarkthedog

Warning: Slight degradation, dubious content? (I mean he agreed to it but it wasn't necessarily official)

Always establish consent kiddos

You wouldn't say you were a selfish lover, I mean your praise kink could attest to that fact alone. But with Aizawa's schedule being stretched so thin, you were getting close to losing it. You knew that hero work was important and you couldn't even begin to fathom taking part in raising the next heroes for Japan, but you had your personal needs as well damnit!

"Hey." you smiled softly at your older boyfriend watching as he practically dragged himself across the floor to your shared bedroom. You only received a tired grunt in response as Shota went to the bathroom to wash off todays filth. You sighed, angrily staring down your dinner as if accusing it of doing you wrong.

Aizawa stepped out of the shower wearing a tank top and some black sweats. You did your best not to look needy as he sat down at the table with his plate. For the most part, you ate in silence with short talk regarding how each other's day was. You couldn't help but smile at how blissed out your partner looked eating your food, and you secretly thanked your granny for teaching you all that you knew.

To your disappointment, Aizawa went to bed mumbling that he was extremely tired and you couldn't bring yourself to protest as you observed the dark bags under his eyes and how unkept his beard was. "I gotta trim that." you mutter as you glare at the dishes.

Turning in for the night, you drag yourself into the shared room and slip into your own tank top and shorts, sighing as you release your tiddies from their fabric prison. You slip into the bed and tense as Aizawa turns and brings you against him in a warm embrace. Suddenly your horny complaints disappeared in that moment and you sighed into the hold.

'Well...that shit didn't last long.' you grumbled as you lay still trying not to wake up Aizawa. Speaking of the devil, you stay quiet as you listen and feel him change position curving you more and more into the little spoon position. "You've got to be kidding me." you growled as you felt something hard and hot poking you and you knew damn well it wasn't love and affection.

"The dude can't dick me down but he sure as hell tease me with his dick huh?" you questioned out loud to no one. You sit up and look down timidly at your lover grimacing as you recall a previous conversation the two of you had.

"Well since the USJ attacks I've been getting drilled by Nezu to spend even more time training the brats so don't be surprised if our personal time is cut short." you pouted as you help onto Aizawa's arm sticking your tongue out when he glared at you. "But what if I get horny?!" you whined putting all your weight on him. "Get yourself off you damn brat!" he said shoving your face away from himself.

You got a creepy look on your face, "Be careful Aizawa, I might just jump you in your sleep!" you tease wiggling your fingers at him whining when he slaps them away. "I don't care as long as you don't bother me!"

No sitting in the dark at 1 in the morning you were really considering jumping his bones as he sleeps. "Damn my hypersexuality!" you grumble as you swing your legs over to straddle him. "He won't wake up, he sleeps like a log," you tell yourself to build up the courage.

You begin to grind on his bulge trying to get it all the way up. You huff as your heart rate slowly rises from the little stimulation you were receiving from the way his bulge was rubbing against your clothed pussy.

After a while of dry humping, you slowly lift the tank top and you drool at the sight of his toned stomach. Unable to help yourself, you bend down to nibble and kiss along the faint ab lines. You felt the skin beneath your lips tremble slightly and you glance up quickly making sure he was still sleeping. You hook your fingers on the waist of his sweats and do your best at pulling them down enough for his hard cock to comedically hit you in the face.

"Even unconscious he's a jackass." you mumble jokingly. For a while, you do nothing but stare at it as you couldn't help but marvel at how gorgeous it looked shinning in the dim moonlight. "So pretty.." you sigh softly before lightly taking it in your hand and stroking it. "Even if I'm doing this for me, I still want to make him feel good."

At this level of stimulation, it was to be expected for him to start reacting. You gazed up to ensure his eyes remained closed as you took in all the groans that slipped from his mouth. You gave small kisses and licks around the base just like you knew he liked it. In return, his member kept supplying you graciously with sticky precum that drenched your hand as you continued your ministrations.

Finally, you take it inside your mouth sucking lightly on the tip before sucking slowly on his sack. You trail your hands down your stomach circling your belly button before shoving your hands in your pants, moaning at how wet you were. You gathered your juices that trickled down your legs and used it to assist your finger inside yourself. To your glee, you were aroused enough to slip two fingers inside quickly.

As you worked yourself open, you close your eyes trying to imagine your fingers as Shota's. Thinking of how his thick and calloused fingers had to take longer to go in but when they did, they reached your deepest place with ease. You whined, tears building up in your eyes from pleasure and you quickly decided that you could no longer wait and positioned yourself over Shota.

Opening your folds with one hand and positioning his cock with the other, you slowly sink down hissing at the warm burn and you do your best to take it all in. As you wait for your body to adjust, you slide one of your hands up to play with your chest while you use the other to play with Shota's.

You're suddenly gasping for air as your neck is grabbed and your cunt is getting roughly pounded into. "W-Wait t-to fast!" you scream holding tightly onto Shota's shoulders snapping your eyes open only to gaze into angry red ones.

"Oh, am I going to fast? You should have thought about that before you decided to be a damn slut while I was sleeping!" you spasm on his cock as you reach your first orgasm. You're quickly flipped onto your back and both of your thick legs are being held tightly as Aizawa continues to fuck into you at an abnormal speed for someone who's been sleeping.

"Thought you could get your freak on and I wouldn't know kitty cat?" Aizawa growled as he opens your legs so he could look at you. Using one hand, he yanks your tank top up to expose your breasts leaning down to take one into his mouth harshly biting the nipple. "I couldn't hel-p it!" you moan feeling your head hitting the headboard slightly. "I know you couldn't, you're just my slutty little kitty, that's exactly why you're going to take Daddy's dick like a good girl." Aizawa nibbles neck in an attempt at muffling his own moans.

All you could feel was the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly at rapid speed and you couldn't determine whether you loved or hated it as your second orgasm hit you making you shake as drool falls out your open mouth. Aizawa kisses you deeply using his tongue to explore your mouth with such vigor, it made you dizzy. After a long while you felt him get close to his end when he slows down and focuses on how much force he puts into his thrusts rather than the speed. "Cum in me!" you beg pulling him in close leaving scratches on his back. To your dismay, Aizawa pulls back and out, "Only good girls get that." For the rest of the time your a hiccuping, overstimulated mess as he lazily jerks his cock and rubs your clit bringing you to your final orgasm as he cums over your stomach.

He lets you lay there staring at the ceiling in a daze as he gets himself a drink of water and you a wet cloth to wipe you down. "Are okay?" he asks. And you could only nod as you yawned, "I'm sorry for waking you up." you apologized as you watched Aizawa slip into bed next to you frowning at the sweaty sheets. "I already told you I don't care, but next time be quieter." he smirks pulling you closer to him.

#aizawa smut #bnha aizawa #aizawa imagine #aizawa x reader #aizawa x poc #aizawa shouta x black! reader #mha #somnophilia #kinktober #black y/n #blackreader

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randomfandomimagine · 3 years

Text

Meeting Doc (Marty McFly x Reader)

Characters: Marty McFly, Emmet ‘Doc’ Brown

Fandom: Back to the Future

Tags: Meeting the family

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,4k words

Requested by (Marty) anon: hey Trish!! would you be up for a Marty ficlet where he takes reader (his s/o) with him to meet Doc, and Doc's kind of apprehensive and protective of Marty at first but after awhile he warms up to reader and they all just end up goofing off together at the end? have a wonderful day :)

Link: AO3

A/N: Here it is! I hope you like it, lovely! It was fun to write and to explore this side of the characters!

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!! // Masterlist

Marty McFly x Gender Neutral Reader

Everyone in Hill Valley had heard about Doctor Brown. He was the strange scientist of the town. Some called him crazy and some called him dangerous. Being Marty McFly’s partner, though, you pictured a very different version of that same man.

In Marty’s eyes, Doc was a genius. He was a misunderstood person who was in love with science and very passionate about it, constantly trying out new inventions that would quench his curiosity and help the world.

Perhaps none of those versions were true, but merely the projections of the people that looked at him. Nonetheless, you were more inclined to believe Marty than everyone else. Of course, it helped that Marty was your boyfriend, but Doc didn’t seem dangerous. At the very least, he was a very interesting and unique person that you couldn’t wait to meet.

“Okay” Marty stopped before Doc’s residence, licking his lips and turning to you.

You didn’t know who was more nervous about this meeting, you or Marty. Although you weren’t sure if you would make a good first impression, it was clear that this was very important to Marty too. The both of you were the most important people in his life, and he couldn’t bear the thought of you two not getting along.

“Okay….” He repeated, taking a deep breath. “Are you ready, Y/N?”

“Yeah” You smiled at him and took his hand. “I’m excited to meet him”

“Now, before we come in…” Marty paused, lifting your hand and patting it. “You know Doc’s a little...”

“What?”

“Well… you may think he’s a bit… wacky”

“So I heard”

“Yeah, I know, but…” Marty kept playing with your hand, moving it around as he tried to push out any of his nervous energy. “It takes a bit to really get him, you know? But once you do, he’s the best”

“What are you trying to say?”

“He’s just different from everyone else in Hill Valley”

“Marty” You patiently said, returning to your sweet smile. “I know what people say about Doc, and it doesn’t bother me”

“Really?” He finally smiled, sighing in relief once you eased his fear.

“Yeah, he might be different, but that just means he’s not boring” You paused, watching how his tense shoulders relaxed slightly. “I want to meet him, and not just because you want me to. I want to meet your friend, who also happens to seem like a very interesting person”

“You’re the best” Marty leaned in to kiss you in the cheek. “Let’s come in then”

You took a deep breath as he opened the door for you. Immediately, you were received with a very different environment than the one you were just in outside of the house. The entire room was dark and felt heavy with electricity. It also smelled slightly like chemicals.

A sudden fear reached you once you realized you knew nothing about science. What if you had nothing in common with Doc to get along with him? It would break Marty’s heart if you two just stood there awkwardly.

“Doc?” He called out, bringing you back to reality as he tugged at your hand, directing you with him through the messy house. “Doc, we’re here!”

After some rustling, footsteps were heard. A tall man with disheveled white hair appeared wearing a white lab coat, with wide eyes and goggles over his forehead.

“Great Scott!” The man muttered, quickly looking at his wristwatch. “Is it time already?”

“Yeah” Marty put his hands on your shoulders. “Y/N is here”

“Doctor Brown!” You smiled at him, offering your hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Marty has told me all about you”

The man stayed distant for a moment as he carefully watched you.

“Yeah, yeah…” He dryly said, absently shaking your hand. “You too”

“Y/N was really excited to meet you, Doc” Marty beamed, shaking you around a little as though passing over to you more of that excitement.

The man only nodded, lifting his chin up and looking down at you. His brown eyes were filled with distrust. Suddenly, that eagerness you felt died down. Instead, it was replaced by a cold disappointment.

Marty had talked so highly of Doc that you thought he was one of the best people in Hill Valley. However, now that you had met him in person, he behaved in a petty manner.

“Tell me, how long have you and Marty been together?” He then asked, to make matters worse. His tone was harsh and judgmental.

“Doc…” Marty complained, but you answered the question nonetheless.

“Almost a year”

“Do you get good grades?”

“Doc!”

The man shut his mouth, looking at his friend in startle. You clenched your jaw, standing up straight to show him you weren’t intimidated by his questioning.

“Is this an interview?” You demanded to know, forcing him to face you.

The two of you glared at each other, further challenging one another. You could feel Marty’s eyes moving from him to you. He stirred in the spot before finally piping up.

“Uh… y-you know what?” Marty nervously said, passing a hand through his hair. “Why don’t I show Y/N that thing you invented? You know, that gadget thingy”

“Very well” Doc replied without glancing at him, too busy staring at you.

“I’ll be right back!” Marty exclaimed as he ran off, trying to take as little time away from you as possible.

As soon as your boyfriend disappeared in the next room, you acquired a defensive stance to mask your outrage. No matter how smart ‘Doc’ was, you weren’t going to let him do that.

“Doctor Brown” You gravely began. “With all due respect, I don’t know what your problem with me is, and I honestly don’t care. I think we should put our differences aside for Marty’s sake”

He opened his mouth to reply, but you interrupted, foreseeing a complaint.

“If you don’t like me for, that’s alright” You continued, peering up at him to meet his tall stature. “But it’s very important to Marty that we get along, so I suggest you do it for him if you really care so much about him”

The scientist stared at you in awe. After a moment of surprise, he smiled at you.

“You are absolutely right”

“T-Thank you”

“I apologize, it was unfair of me to treat you like that” Doc bowed his head down as a sign of respect. “I was only looking out for Marty, but if you truly care so much about him, I must have been too quick to judge you”

“Of course I care about Marty!” You loudly said, lowering your tone when you realized he might return soon. “That is why I wanted to meet you on the first place, Doctor Brown!”

“As did I” He sighed, shaking his head to himself. “Forgive me, Y/N, I merely wanted to ensure you were good for Marty. He is an extraordinary young man and he deserves the very best”

“I agree” Now that the tension had dissipated, a more comfortable silence established. However, you crossed your arms, trying to appear nonchalant. “And well… am I good for him?”

“I’m here!” Marty arrived just then, interrupting the scientist before he could reply. However, the smile in his lips was answer enough.

“Ah, thank you, Marty” He said instead, taking a small oval shaped gadget from him.

“What were you talking about?” The young man looked from one to the other again.

“I was telling Y/N that… I was frustrated with a project… but that is no excuse, I still shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I’m sorry”

“Thank you. And it’s alright”

“Allow me to start again” Doc cleared his throat, offering you his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m Doctor Emmett Brown, but you can call me Emmett”

“It’s nice to meet you, Emmett” You replied with a smile, giving his hand a firm but gentle shake.

A pause followed. Watching Marty with the corner of your eye, you realized he was smiling wide and had the emotion reflected in his eyes. You smiled to yourself.

“Tell me, Y/N” Emmett then said, motioning in a friendly gesture. “Would you like to know how my invention works?”

“I would love to” You took Marty’s hand, following Doc as he went to turn all the lights on and demonstrate to you how his new invention worked.

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn / @fandomxreaders / @fortheloveofbenyandtom / @caswinchester2000 / @dancingwith-sunflowers / @welcome-here-in-my-world / @unstable-puffin-writing // Send an ask if you want to be added to the tag list for this fandom!

#marty mcfly x reader #marty mcfly imagine #marty mcfly ficlet #marty mcfly #back to the future #back to the future x reader #back to the future imagine #back to the future ficlet #bttf #bttf x reader #bttf imaigne #bttf ficlet #emmett brown #doc brown #emmett l brown #reader insert #requested #faves #rfi writings

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existslikepristin · 3 years

Text

Please, No Virginity Puns

The most recent thing I posted before tumblr. It was on Choerry's birthday, and I am proud of that.

Tags: TheLounge, Loona, Choerry, male reader insert, it's her birthday!, 100% butt stuff, I ate a thesaurus

~~~~~

It didn’t matter what you had to say anymore. Choerry was already on top of you, nude and keeping you muted with her tongue. How did you get there?

Well, moments prior, you were sitting next to Choerry at your small dinner table. She’s always insisted on sitting as close to you as possible in order to enable near-constant snuggling. It’s gotten a little annoying here and there, but you can’t help but concede to her innocent demands whenever she smiles.

Of course, and not that you’ve ever complained about this, that’s not to say that her demands aren’t always entirely innocent. Most of the time they are, but not always.

That day, for example, you woke her up with breakfast in bed. It wasn’t tradition, but you were just getting her back for the last time she did it for you. And what better day to present her, prone, with a pancake, pulverized potato, and porridge parfait platter… with toppings… than her birthday?!

It can be hard to tell if Choerry is acting or not at times, but you’d like to think that her cartoonish level of enthusiasm for the treat was entirely real. She carried that sunshine throughout the rest of your day, skipping through the park, greeting everybody on the way to, inside, and on the way out of The Lounge, at the surprise party that you helped all of her members get her with, and when she dragged you to her room.

Not a drop of alcohol had touched her lips that night, so it was all the more surprising when she shoved you onto her bed and stated matter-of-factly-but-also-vaguely that she wanted you to put a thing in her butt. Her words came out of her mouth like shimmery soap bubbles.

You had to pause for a moment to process her words. You were certainly up for some sexy times with Choerry. You had anticipated it was going to happen when she put your hand down her pants near the end of the birthday party with no attempt at subtlety. But her exact word choices had you rubbing your temples out of exasperation, even as she stripped herself down to her ridiculously cherry red lingerie.

Your chance to admire that rare view was lost to history, however. She removed the lingerie from her body while she claimed your lips. Your disappointment at not getting the opportunity to remove it yourself quickly faded when she popped back up though.

Her breasts were as perky as her attitude, and also your dick. She was quick to notice the latter and made quick work of your clothes too. She sighed satisfactorily at the sight of your sword and stooped to supply it with a suck and some slickening slobber, so you suspected the sex was starting summarily; more swiftly than standard, it seemed.

Concerned for her well being, you made sure to ask if she had lube available. Again, you weren’t going to complain about her gusto, but she lacked the anal experience that some of your mutual friends had, at least you assumed. Sure enough, there was a bottle mere feet from her reach in her drawer. She grabbed it and jumped back on top of you, pouring it generously over her ass crack and your cock with surprising accuracy for someone so engaged with a hot and heavy kiss.

You were sure you had something to say on the matter. Perhaps some additional words of caution, maybe some other words of encouragement. It didn’t matter what you had to say anymore. Choerry was already on top of you, nude and keeping you muted with her tongue. How did you-- come back around to the exact same thought that the story began with?

“It’s okay, right?”

You attempted to blink away your stupefaction. “O-okay?”

“Mhm! For me to… you know!” She leaned in and whispered directly into your ear, “Put your penis in my butt.”

Ah, yes. The demand that you had nearly forgotten in her flurry of kisses, now slightly reworded to include your dick in the equation. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just checking!”

“We’ve… done this before.”

“I know!” Choerry swooped back in to continue kissing you, implying that she had no intention of expounding further. Her fingers wrapped around your cock, massaging the whole length to ensure that the lube had maximum coverage.

Your breath caught as you felt her readjusting you, tapping you around between her legs as she tried to match you up with her intended target purely via exploration. Your cock was ground between her ass cheeks, the tip slid over her clit, and dipped briefly into her pussy. A groan was the only complaint you could give to only being given a half second of her fantastic heat.

You didn’t have to wait long to get it back. Her ass opened up to the pressure she applied against it with your dick, but exceptionally slowly. Choerry released a series of little exclamations into your mouth as she pushed. She tossed the lube bottle to the side and snatched your hand, curling her fingers into your palm.

Finally, the last pop came, and was followed by a short slide. With no more manual guidance necessary, she grabbed your other hand as well, which promptly slipped out of her grip considering the amount of lube present.

Choerry released you from your kissy bliss to look at her slippery hand, a mixture of anger and amusement on her face. She tried a couple more times to hold your hand with it, but you liked this look. You easily slithered your hand out from under hers every time she slapped down. It was like watching a cat trying to catch a laser pointer.

It was just another reminder that no matter how deep inside Choerry you may physically be, she’ll never stop bringing a goofy-ass smile to your face.

Finally, you relented and entwined your fingers with hers, locking your knuckles together so you wouldn’t fall apart. She glared down into your eyes, but a grin still crept through. “Thank you,” she said, lips tight and nose scrunched up.

With you fully in her grasp, Choerry straightened herself up, allowing you the opportunity to look up and down her sublime figure. Though her movement caused her to cause you to penetrate her a bit further which caused her to flinch slightly, she kept herself aloft on her knees to not go too far all at once. She closed her eyes and took a series of deep breaths there, as calmly as if she was meditating.

As much as you wanted to go ham on her ham, you didn’t want to hurt her, so you contented yourself with watching her chest rise and fall. “Happy birthday…” you whispered.

“You’ve already told me that today,” Choerry intoned, eyes still closed like she was drifting off into her own little world.

You laughed. “I was saying it to myself! Have you seen you?”

She smiled again, and said three words in a voice that made it seem like she was speaking to an audience on the edge of their seats, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Her fingers constricted around yours, so you questioned if she was, in fact, ready. But you wouldn’t be the one to stop her.

Choerry’s tight tush trucked its way toward the top of your tower twice to tighten her take on the task at the time, before torturously trending testicle-ward. She temporized without taking your entire tool.

So hypnotized were you with her graceful movement that you didn’t even notice the frustrated moan coming up your throat until it was too late.

Her eyes popped open. “I’m sorry!” She sounded like she meant it, too. “This is… tough.”

“Take your time,” you said, straining your voice for comic effect.

“Could have used that four paragraphs ago,” she said, continuing her extremely slow descent down your shaft.

The odd statement distracted you just long enough for Choerry to finish her drop. No longer did space separate your pelvises. You grew concerned again when she winced and bit her lip from the inside.

“Choerry, we really can do something else. Don’t hurt yourself please.”

She gave you an exaggerated, indignant gander. “Rhetorical question: Who gets to choose the cake on her birthday?”

You held in your “cake” joke.

“It’s me,” Choerry’s voice was far too chipper to make this talking-to sound as stern as you were sure she wanted it to come across as. “As birthday lady, I get to pick the cake, and I get to feed it to you if I want to.”

You held in your “cake feeding” joke.

“And tonight, the cake I pick is my bum.”

You opened your mouth to comment on her most excellent selection of the word “bum” in the midst of a scenario where your cock is fully inside of said bum, but you instead gasped a sharp breath.

Choerry ground forward, pulling your dick with her and anointing the lowermost part of your stomach with the juices being lightly sprinkled from her clit.

“Besiiides,” she continued, re-angling her hands to she could tickle the backs of yours, “We have all the lube! Even some that’s got a certain special flavor to it!”

“Just some?”

“Yeah, ooh,” she crooned, apparently quite enjoying the grind back down your pelvis, “I didn’t get it all at once. Now guess the flavor!”

You waited for her grinding to pause again to be able to think straight, “Does it start with a ‘C?’”

Her smile grew. “Yes!”

“Is it a fruit?”

“Yes!”

“Is it… cherry?”

“Failure!”

“Wha--”

“It’s coconut!”

If you weren’t so established in your hand holding with Choerry, you’d have palmed your face. Thankfully, thoughts of how she could have possibly expected you to guess that were pushed to the back of your mind as she resumed her removal of your breath with a series of fanciful body rolls.

Finally fucking her fanny felt fictional. For while not the first foray there, far-fetched was the philosophy that it was fielded often, the front being the favored fornication fissure for the foreseeable future. Unless, of course, you could make this an especially special session.

But woe was unto you. Choerry had the upper hand(s) figuratively as well as literally. But, perhaps, you thought, this was exactly what she wanted and you could wait your damn turn to take control.

And you liked letting her anally probe herself this way, so, you know, what were you to do but enjoy the ride?

Over the course of her self-imposed ravaging, Choerry’s meditative breaths became ragged. Her eyelids fluttered at regular intervals. Through it all, she held her phantasmagorical demeanor. A couple of times she reached for the lube bottle and shotgunned it somewhat inaccurately between her legs, but it did the job. You were happy to see that she was still considering her own comfort.

In fact, to your surprise, her mouth opened wide in a silent shout. Her core trembled anticipatorily. Her hands held yours with a colossally increased lewdness. And those two mystical words trickled from her tongue with a high-pitched susurration, “I’m… cumming…”

Choerry’s grinding came to a grinding halt. Her body jerked and she fell onto you. Your cock sprang free of her ass in, and as a result of, the same motion.

You untangled one of your hands to stroke her back in the most adoring fashion you could muster. After chewing on a thesaurus for the prior hour, you were sure neither of you really needed any more words.

She stayed there for a spell, and you were happy to let her. It was so late it was nearly no longer her birthday, but her birthday it still was. She deserved the rest, along with the rest of your undivided attention.

Her whole movement consisted of her back going up and down as her lungs attempted to revive her fighting spirit, and her thumb lovingly shifting over the divinatory lines on your palm. You wished she would do something about her hair plastered on your chin, but ninety-nine percent of paradise is paradise enough.

You were disappointed when Choerry rose once more, slimily straddling your stomach. She detached her hands from yours to give the hair on either side of her face a good backward flick over her shoulders, and she sighed with contentment.

It was a shock to hear her speak again after such a prolonged reticence, but her unerringly cheerful voice was entirely welcome nonetheless.

“More please.”

You couldn’t then, and you still can’t help but concede to her innocent demands. Her smile just touched the corner of her lips. Sure, some of her demands aren’t so innocent, but… How did you get here again?

#loona smut #kpop smut #choerry #male reader insert

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peachycheol · 4 years

Text

| reliable |

© banner credit: thank you to the love of my life @suhdreams for making this banner for me 🥺💘 ➸ summary: when people say ‘not all men’, they’re actually right. kim mingyu, your best friend, would never disappoint you. especially not in the bedroom. ➸ genre: pwp 😌 ➸ pairing: best friend!mingyu x reader ➸ warning: dirty talk, slight dumbification, heavy petting, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl), cream pie, oral (fem. receiving), cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yn is really horny? ➸ w.c: 3.2k ➸ tags: you can all thank @risquewonu for this <333

➸ author’s note: ahh, i’m sorry this took me so long! i didn’t mean to write this much, but what the smuth wants, the smuth gets. also, i want to thank you all for 100 followers! i’ll make a separate post to properly thank you all, but i am!!! baffled!!! i really appreciate the support ;u; love you guys!

If there are two things in this world that you are absolutely certain of, they are: 1) Men ain’t shit, and 2) with the exception of Kim Mingyu. Knowing this information doesn’t really benefit you in any way. You still go out on Tinder dates that leave you high and dry 15 minutes after taking you home. And Kim Mingyu is still your very platonic best friend, who seems to be reliable in every single way except perhaps in the one way you need most desperately.

But for all you know, he could be just like every other male in bed. He couldn’t be unbelievably handsome, the most thoughtful, caring person you know, and a sex god; it just wouldn’t be fair! No, it is much easier to convince yourself that Mingyu’s perfection only extended to being a best friend, if only for your peace of mind. Otherwise, you’d have to live with the possibility that the only person who can give you sweet release is the only one you’re technically not supposed to fuck.

For reasons that seem to become annoyingly hazy every time you lie down next to him on his bed, just as you are at this moment.

The two of you often end nights out like this, scrolling through one another’s TikTok’s until the wee hours of the morning, laughing loudly until his neighbors threaten to file a noise complaint. As someone who has claimed him as your best friend for three years, you know you’re supposed to be used to the smell of the musky cologne that clings onto his sheets and the feeling of his warm body as he leans closer to show you his For You Page. But lately, it seems harder and harder to fight off the warmth that pulses straight to your core whenever he does anything as simple as laugh, making you shiver when his breath tickles the side of your neck.

God, you just really need to get laid properly. You lick your dry lips and try to remind yourself that you have no idea if Mingyu would even be able to satisfy you. Though you do have to admit you couldn’t imagine any situation where the boy isn’t overly generous and eager to please-- No! Just watch the damn TikToks!

“Hey, you good?” Mingyu suddenly asks, nudging your side. “Why aren’t you laughing? ‘His package needs to come in the fe-mail’! That one’s gold!”

You let out a snort. Leave it to Mingyu to bring you back to reality with one line. Even when you don’t say a word, he knows exactly what you need in a moment, which in this case is a reminder that he’s your very dorky friend. “Shut up, that’s so stupid,” you say, but you can’t help but laugh along with him when it replays.

“Aha, you laughed though.” Satisfied with your response he scrolls down to a video of a girl smiling suggestively into the camera. She points to the caption that says ‘If all the boys that made me cum were in my room with me right now, I would…’ Suddenly, the camera pans and she looks at the screen tiredly. The caption now read as ‘Be alone. Men are trash’.

At this, you bust out with a howl of laughter, clutching at your stomach. It was kind of sad, but it was good to know you weren’t alone in this world. All the while, Mingyu stares at you with an eyebrow raised. Once you calm down, you meet his amused gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“You thought it was that funny, huh? It’s not even that accurate,” he says teasingly.

You roll your eyes. “Um, yeah it is. I’ve never met a man who could make me cum, and clearly many other people can relate. This video has 1.4k likes!”

Mingyu quickly puts his phone down and pouts. “Nu uh! Not all guys are that incompetent!”

“Men are such babies,” you sigh. “They are that incompetent! You know how many dates I went to last semester, right? Not one of them made me cum!”

“Okay, I told you before you even went on those dates that those guys weren’t worth your time.” Mingyu waves his hand dismissively. “For your information, I have made sure that all the ladies that I’ve taken to the bedroom had at least one orgasm. At least!”

“Mingyu, sweetie,” you coo, patting his cheek as if to comfort him. “They were all faking it, because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Right? They all had to have faked it. You try to tell yourself this, try to reign in the last bit of sanity you have before your mind wanders off to anywhere inappropriate.

Your best friend now props himself up so that you could properly see the smirk plastered across his annoyingly chiseled features. “You’re so sure, huh? I bet I could make you cum multiple times. Easily.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. It isn’t uncommon for the two of you to taunt each other like this, but you have also never been in such a vulnerable mood. It’s the type of mood that has your heart racing impossibly fast, the type of mood that has your panties pathetically damp from just one sentence. You blink, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You know it’s too late, though; your imagination is already flashing through scenes of your deepest desires, all being fulfilled by the man in front of you. But Mingyu is only joking, so you do what you can to continue playing along and pretend like you don’t want him to just fuck you into the mattress until you were drooling into his sheets.

“I-I seriously doubt that!” you say, but there is no conviction in your voice. Clearing your throat, you try adding, “Dude, I’ve literally seen you fall down a flight of stairs when you were sober. And we were going up. Kinda hard to imagine that you’ll know how to fuck me to an orgasm when you can’t even walk right.”

Now you’re just lying through your teeth, but you want to hold off the inevitable moment that Mingyu discovers your apparent arousal for as long as possible. The last thing you need right now is for him to laugh in your face.

Mingyu chuckles, then suddenly shifts so that his arms are placed on either side of your head, trapping you underneath him. To his surprise, you do nothing to push him off like you usually do at this point. Still, he doesn’t plan on being the first to back off, so he continues his little game, intent on winning. “See, this is why you can’t find a guy who can satisfy you. You clearly don’t know what to look for.” He leans down until the tip of his nose grazes yours. For good measure, he drops his voice an octave and says, “You’ll be the one who can’t walk right when I’m done with you.”

Perplexingly, his shameless flirting doesn’t make you move as he predicted. Nor does it make you look annoyed. Instead, you look up at him with eyes that are unmistakably glazed over with something he didn’t quite expect to see: pure lust. It immediately sends a rush of blood down to his cock. He blinks. Oh. So this is where the night is going. He only falters for a moment, but he soon flashes a breathtaking smile down at you, his eyes glinting mischievously.

It isn’t like he’s never thought about it before; he had just assumed that once you started calling him your best friend, you were also lowkey telling him that sex was off the table. And it wasn’t like he minded, because he definitely liked being by your side knowing it was fully okay to be himself since you were obligated to love him regardless. Plus there was just something about you that made him want to take care of you and if being your best friend was the only way he could do it, then that had been fine by him. But now that he knows that he can take care of you in another way, in the way that he sometimes found himself yearning for on lonely nights, he is all too eager to break free of the unspoken boundaries between the two of you.

“And what am I looking for?” you whisper.

“It seems like you’re looking for me, baby,” he responds softly, before pressing a kiss where your jaw meets your neck. He slowly drags his lips down the side of your neck, and revels in how it already has you pressing your legs together. “Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said those guys didn’t make you cum, huh? Is that why you’re already so fucking worked up? You want to cum that badly?”

You nod wordlessly, not quite ready for Mingyu to hear the desperate whine that would surely leave your lips as he continues pressing wet kisses along your skin. You opt to simply thread your fingers in his hair and tug hard enough to show your impatience. It seems to trigger something in him; all in an instant, your best friend’s soft lips clash against your own, his tongue easily sliding into your mouth, all the while while his hand reaches down to grab one of your thighs. He squeezes it teasingly before pushing it outwards, which causes the mini skirt you’re wearing to bunch up around your waist, revealing your panties and how they cling to your pussy like a second skin.

“M-mingyu!” you squeak into his lips when you feel his fingers tentatively rub small circles into the wet spot. He nips at your lip harshly as he starts to rub more deliberately, the flimsy fabric of your underwear creating a delicious friction against your clit. “H-hah! Yes, o-oh my god!”

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, baby girl,” he chuckles, but he knows he isn’t one to talk while his cock is half hard just from hearing the way you moan his name. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You’re not leaving this room until your little pussy cums nice and hard on my cock.”

“Ngh!-- yes p-please! Please, Mingyu,” you beg mindlessly. Your eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration. Despite your best friend’s promises, you are still hesitant to hold out any hope for anything more than what you’re accustomed to, so you try to take as much as you can while it lasts. However, in your lustful daze, you had forgotten that if Kim Mingyu is anything, he is a man of his word.

You let out a high-pitched moan when his fingers suddenly grind harsh circles into your clit, more surprised than anything else that he even knew where to find it. “But first,” he says, licking his lips, “you’re going to be a good girl and cum just like this. Right into your filthy little panties. Can you do that for me, baby?”

He takes your drawn out whine as a response, and continues to rub relentlessly over your hardened clit until your legs begin to shake. That’s when he shoves the soaked material of your underwear to the side and pinches the bud. Hard.

He rolls your clit between the pads of his fingertips over and over, sending jolts of electric pleasure all the way to your toes. It causes them to curl, all the while you feel the heat simmering in your lower abdomen finally coil tighter and tighter. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you chant, the words coming out slurred like you’re a teenager who’s gotten drunk from one sip of champagne. “M-mingyu-- mmh! I t-think I’m going to--!”

A loud cry leaves your lips the moment the coil snaps, and you nearly tear up from how much better it feels to finally cum on someone else’s fingers, especially Mingyu’s long, thick digits. He soothingly slides them through your drenched folds, mesmerized by how much wetness now covered his hand. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages. Once your body slumps back into the mattress, he brings his fingers up to see how they glisten in the light. “We’ve barely even started and look at what the mess you’ve already made. You must have been waiting so long for me to fuck you, huh?”

Not even your post-orgasm buzz can keep you from getting irked by Mingyu’s cockiness, which is why you reach your own hand down to squeeze his cock through his jeans. “Seems like I’m not the only one who’s been waiting for this,” you say with a sly grin of your own. He watches you, jaw clenched, as you swiftly pop the button of his pants open and slip your fingers past the waistband of his underwear to take hold of his fully hardened member.

It feels warm and heavy in your palm, which can barely wrap around the girth. You bite your lip, your pussy greedily clenching around nothing at the thought of how good it would stretch you out.

“I should have known you’d be a fucking tease,” Mingyu rasps. His hips buck into your hand involuntarily, and his smile returns when he notices how the movement makes you whimper in anticipation.

There is a beat of silence when you and Mingyu meet eyes before the both of you begin undressing each other as fast as you can, haphazardly tugging off both your shirts, his pants, and your pesky undergarments. Once he’s tossed aside your soiled panties, he immediately presses your thighs apart to get a full view of your sopping cunt. “So pretty,” he mumbles to himself, spreading the lips apart with his fingers. His member throbs at the sight, the tip leaking precum when he sees how your pussy clenches in anticipation. “I bet it’s going to look even prettier when it’s taking my fat cock, don’t you think?”

The two of you watch in awe as Mingyu starts to sink into your entrance, a garbled moan leaving your lips when the tip alone already has you feeling so full. “Mingyu, h-how is-- ooh!-- your d-dick soo-- f-fucking big? A-Ah!” It takes a good while for you to finish your sentence as each of Mingyu’s shallow thrusts leave you gasping for air. By the time he bottoms out, the both of you are panting hard, both engrossed by how snugly his cock fits in your walls.

“Shit, if I had known you’d be this tight, I would have fucked you sooner,” Mingyu groans. He slowly drags his member out of you, letting you feel every inch of him before he surges forward into a feverish pace that already has his bed frame creaking loudly. He is definitely getting a noise complaint from his grumpy neighbors tonight. But seeing you underneath him like this, lips parted and legs spread, definitely makes it difficult to care about anything other than the desire to hear more of your needy cries. “Does it feel good, baby girl? Do you like how my cock fills your little pussy?”

“It fuh--!--ngh, feels s-soo good,” Having already came once, your sensitivity is on overload, and each rough thrust of Mingyu’s hips, each crude slap of his skin against yours, is enough to drive you closer and closer to delirium. “Mmh-- please, Mingyu! F-fuck me so deep!”

“Anything for my little cockslut.” He moves quickly to kneel between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your knees to keep them open as he continues to pound into you. The new position instantly makes you keen loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel his member brush against your cervix.

“Fuuuuck,” you sob and clutch at the sheets. His grip on your legs tightens and he angles his hips so that he hits that spot every time, rendering you completely incoherent. You want to beg him to fuck you like this forever, to tell him you’d do anything to feel his cock fuck you open every night, but you can only babble, unable to comprehend anything that isn’t the insatiable thirst burning within you.

“Damn baby, did I fuck you stupid?” Seeing you so drunk on his cock, he wonders how anyone could ever fuck you without wanting to see you cum over and over again. His hair falls over his eyes as he fucks up into you with renewed vigor, his hot skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. He grits his teeth when he feels how tightly your walls grip onto him.“Shit-- you must want me to make you cum again, baby girl. Your little pussy just keeps sucking me in.”

“H-hah, y-yes! Yes, please god, Mingyu, I want to c-cum again. P-please let me cum,” you beg, practically writhing as you pathetically attempt to meet his thrusts. Without any hesitation, Mingyu brings down his thumb and presses it into your swollen clit, causing your body to seize up suddenly. “A-Aah Mingyu! I’m--!” The intensity of your orgasm has your back arching off the mattress, head thrown back in a silent scream. Wave after wave of pleasure continuously washes over you, seemingly unending, unlike any orgasm you ever thought possible.

“That’s right baby girl, get my cock nice and wet,” Mingyu growls. He fucks you through your release as he sloppily chases his own, not too far behind with how your walls are pulsing around him. He makes sure his cock is deep inside you and stills his hips when fills you with his hot cum. “Fuck, this pussy was fucking made for me.”

Just as you think you’ve finally come down from your high, he pulls out of you and he shifts to lower himself to place his mouth on your spent pussy. “M-mingyu!”

You squirm and half-heartedly try to shove his head away, far too sensitive to have his tongue licking into your leaking entrance, but Mingyu is persistent. He pushes your legs to your chest to keep you from squeezing them close, and hums when he tastes the hot mixture of your and his own cum on his lips. The way he slurps and sucks at your folds is absolutely sinful as he eats you out like you’re the most delectable treat. It almost hurts to feel so much ecstasy at once, but it still leaves you mewling for more, unable to get enough of the boy.

Your third orgasm ripples over you when he suddenly scrapes his teeth over your abused clit, and you feel a tear slide down your cheek as you weakly shake against his mouth.

Mingyu is smiling when he pulls away, looking slightly ridiculous with how his lips still glisten with cum. You tiredly slump back into his pillows, eyes already drooping close. “What is it?”

“I told you I could do it~” he says proudly. He goes to grab some tissues from the bedside table so that he could start cleaning you up, giggling all the while. It really is unfair how he could look so cute moments after railing you into another dimension.

You groan. You’re never going to hear the end of this.

#seventeen smut #mingyu smut #seventeen scenarios #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fanfic #svt smut #m:kmg #l:os #g:pwp #listen tumblr it would be fantastic if this worked in the tags the first time #pretty pls

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

Note

Hello! Um, how about Wrecker with a s/o who has severe childhood trauma, and has a hard time opening up to people other than him?

Hello! First off, thank you so much for this request! It was a good challenge. Secondly, I am so sorry this took as long as it has. I had a pretty uneventful childhood, so I ended up doing a lot of research to write this right, and then I rewrote it about a dozen times... anyway, trauma is only minimally mentioned (at least directly), but I hope you like it!

Wrecker + Traumatized Reader

How did it go today, cyare?" Wrecker asked, dropping a kiss on your cheek. He had just gotten home from a shorter mission with his squad and began stripping off his armor while he waited for your answer.

You always felt silly complaining to him. The things that troopers saw and had to deal with on a daily basis were so much worse than you saw - especially since you were permanently stationed on Coruscant. Still, from the expectant look he sent over his shoulder, Wrecker was waiting for an answer.

"Well…" you started slowly, not sure how much information he wanted, "I think it went okay? The board seemed to like the presentation. The Head Commander said the lack of internal life support in the Phase II armor is an issue they've been looking at for some time. I’m supposed to work on a follow-up. I might throw together some preliminary schematics for a Phase III armor set…"

“Sounds like it went great!” Wrecker encouraged, interrupting you before you could get too lost in your engineering thoughts. You had been known not to emerge for days once you got started. “You've been practicing this presentation forever."

You grinned at him. "Thanks again for being my test audience. I know it isn't something you're really interested in. You guys don’t even wear the Phase II."

"No, but I like listening to you talk," Wrecker told you unabashedly.

You shook your head a bit at that. "You're such a sweetheart. How did I get so lucky?"

"There's a group of Seppies in the Guard's cells who didn't think I was sweet at all," he told you, sounding mystified. "If it wasn't for Cross, I wouldn't have gotten outta there at all."

You tensed a bit at that, and not only from the reminder of how dangerous his job could be. You knew what was coming. It was only a matter of time…

"Have you thought any more about it?" Kriff. There it was. You wanted to snap at him, remind him that he was pushing a very firm boundary, but Wrecker sounded so hopeful…

"I- I just don't know, Wreck," you admitted miserably. "I know they're your brothers and I want to meet them, but… it's a lot."

"That's okay," Wrecker said comfortingly. He was doing his best to reassure you, but you could hear the clear note of disappointment in his voice.

Your heart plummeted to your toes. Why couldn't you do this for him? Wrecker was the best, most considerate boyfriend in the galaxy. He was willing to sacrifice himself for the safety of the galaxy, for your safety.

"Okay, let's do it," you agreed abruptly. "When do you want to have me meet them?"

"Really?" Wrecker asked, a smile like dawn warming his face.

You nodded and forced an answering smile. You weren't sure how you would handle the pressure of meeting the other members of the Bad Batch, but for Wrecker? You would figure it out.

He ran off to contact the others and your smile faded instantly. From everything Wrecker had told you, Tech was nice and Hunter was quiet, but Crosshair was rarely anything other than abrasive and rude. And that was to his brothers.

You fought a shudder. Being snipped at always reminded you of growing up - and not in a good way. Sarcastic comments were always the first step, then objective-sounding remarks, and then… You didn’t want to think about what had always come next.

But still, this was important to Wrecker, and you were determined to try.

---

The next day, you were anxiously fiddling with your sleeve as you walked to the GAR with Wrecker beside you. The height difference between you always made you feel like a child being escorted around by an adult, but Wrecker normally took your teasing complaints as the jokes that they were.

You weren’t saying anything at all that day.

“Hey,” Wrecker said gently, grabbing your hand and stilling the fingers that were slowly unraveling your sleeve. “Are you okay?”

You blinked up at him. “What if they don’t like me?”

Wrecker made a strangled sound, like he had started to laugh but thought better of it. “Of course they’re going to like you! Why wouldn’t they like you? And even if they hated you, I like you. And I’m the important one here.”

You wanted to laugh at his exaggerated pout, but the corners of your mouth felt like they were attached to weights as you gave a tight nod and refocused on walking. Wrecker, however, wasn’t having it. Using the light grip he still had on your hands, he tugged you to a stop, forcing the rest of the foot traffic to part around his broad figure as he bent to talk to you.

“Say the word, cyare, and we’ll go home right now.”

“What? No!” you denied immediately. “I said I would meet your brothers, and I meant it. Why? Have you decided you don’t want them to meet me?”

“Of course I want you to meet them!” Wrecker told you. He brushed a hand against your face, smoothing the frown line you could feel forming between your eyebrows. “But I don’t like seeing you this way. If it’s too much, we don’t have to do this. I meant what I said: we can go home right now.”

You searched his face and found only heartwarming sincerity. He meant it. If you said you weren't up for this, he wouldn't be upset or hurt. He wouldn't sulk or find ways to punish you. Nothing would change between you.

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," you assured him.

Wrecker was your safe space - the exact opposite of everything you had dealt with growing up. He pushed your boundaries, but he made you stronger. As you tripped through the crowd by his side, the idea soothed you more and more until you couldn't stand it.

"Wrecker, wait," you pled, pulling on his arm.

It was a surprise he had even felt the pull, honestly, but he was so attuned to you that he stopped immediately. He looked down at you with open concern. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I love you," you blurted, and your face grew hot so quickly that you felt a little dizzy.

"You love me?" Wrecker asked, sounding stunned.

"…yeah…" you said slowly. You weren't really sure why you had needed to say it right that moment, but you knew that you meant it. Wrecker was everything to you, and it had been enough to prompt an admission of feelings that you had never thought you would be able to verbalize.

He was still staring at you and you were getting nervous. "Anyway, we should probably get to the GAR," you told him, striving for a casual tone.

"Forget the GAR! You love me!" The next thing you knew, Wrecker had lifted you up and spun in a quick circle that left you dizzy for sure this time. "I love you, too! We need to go celebrate!"

He set you down and had started down the street in the direction you had come from, dragging you along by your hand as you alternated between laughing and trying to get him to stop.

"Wreck, we can't just not show up to meet your brothers," you protested. "They're waiting for us!"

Wrecker paused, glanced back at you, and heaved a deep sigh. "Fine," he grumbled, walking back toward your original destination. "They get twenty minutes, then I need you all to myself."

The dark-eyed look he sent your way made your mouth go dry. "Fifteen minutes."

He laid a searing kiss on your lips. "Deal."

---

To your shock, the Bad Batch was less intimidating than you had thought they would be. Hunter even made an effort to talk to you.

“So, what is it you do for the GAR?” he asked, dark eyes startling in his half-tattooed face.

“I- uh, I’m an engineer,” you explained. “I helped design the updates implemented in the Phase II trooper armor. Joint Kamino-Coruscant effort and all of that. I didn’t have anything to do with commando armor, though.”

Hunter shrugged. “Still, I’ve heard good things about the Phase II. You did nice work.”

“Thanks!” you said, only slightly too loud. “There are a few things that got lost in translation due to budgetary issues. One of my ideas was to add in a new scope for the larger rifles, one that would acclimate to counter visual disruptions. Brightness, direct sunlight, reflections, and so on. It had a couple other features that were popular with the ARCs and commandos who tested it. Alpha-17 on Kamino said he was keeping his, even though it was just a prototype.”

“Wish I coulda seen that,” Crosshair muttered, his first contribution to the conversation.

“You kind of can,” you offered. “I have a few prototypes left. I brought one along in case you wanted to give me any feedback. I still have hopes for the Phase III…”

Crosshair eyed the scope you were holding out to him, face full of suspicion even as he accepted it from you. He examined it closely for several minutes, dialing in and out of various features as you watched. Eventually, he nodded and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Looks good,” he reluctantly praised, handing the scope back.

You didn’t take it from him. “Actually, that’s a tactical prototype. If you were interested, I would love for you to use it in the field as long as you let me know how it holds up.”

Crosshair’s eyebrows shot up and he chewed his toothpick thoughtfully as he stared at the scope. You weren’t above a little bribery, and had made a few tweaks based on Crosshair’s preferences. Granted, those preferences had been relayed by Wrecker, a man whose go-to weapon was bare hands…

To distract yourself, you looked to Tech. He had been quiet, almost silent, for most of the meeting. From everything you had been told, that was unusual.

“Tech, Wrecker tells me that you’ve been analyzing statistical data about your squad to maximize your effectiveness. What kind of variance are you looking at?”

Tech stared at you for a long moment. “A difficult question to answer, as the variance has increased significantly since you and Wrecker met.”

“Excuse me?” you asked politely, taken aback by his implication.

“The frequency at which Wrecker is injured has increased by roughly 2.7% since the two of you started your relationship.”

“Tech,” Hunter reprimanded sharply.

“Ease off,” Crosshair said, voice low.

You glanced at Wrecker, sitting tensely beside you. “You didn’t tell me you were getting hurt on your missions.”

“Just a little,” he admitted, glaring at Tech.

“By my calculations, this places his risk of a fatal accident at 9% and growing,” Tech finished, unbothered by Wrecker’s glare or his brothers’ words of warning. “Added to the fact that Wrecker wears less armor than a trooper of his size should, he is highly at risk.”

“What is this about your armor?” you asked Wrecker, pinching his side when he avoided looking your way.

“Hey! That hurt!” he complained, finally looking down at you.

“Not as bad as a piece of shrapnel would!” you lectured him. “As soon as we get home, I’m going to start working on a better set of armor for you. I have some leftover plates from the commando armor comparison. I can use that as a basis…”

“What about your Phase III?” Wrecker asked, a bit desperately.

“That doesn’t matter!” you snapped. “If I can’t keep you safe, none of it matters! I’m designing heavy-duty armor for you, you’ll participate in extra drills with your team until you get used to it, and I want a report on every injury, minor or not!”

“Told you,” Hunter said, sounding satisfied.

“Five credits,” Crosshair sighed.

“The deal was twenty,” Tech argued, then allowed himself a small smile. “I like them.”

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed.

Crosshair, studying his new scope, just nodded. You caught only bits of their conversation, though, since you were still semi-arguing with Wrecker.

“C’mon, let’s go back to your place,” Wrecker pled.

“So I can get started on your armor right away?” you asked. “Good idea!”

“But… you love me,” Wrecker pouted.

You softened and leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, ignoring the scoffs and smothered chuckles from his brothers. “I do, Wrecker. I love you so much that I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. Now let’s go.”

Wrecker sighed heavily, but clambered to his feet and waved goodbye to his brothers as he followed you out.

---

A/N - I don’t actually know if the Bad Batch wears Phase II clone trooper armor or Katarn-class commando armor, so I just went with commando armor and modified helmets.

Thanks for reading! You can see other works like it here or feel free to request something of your own!

#star wars #star wars the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #clone force 99 #wrecker #tech #crosshair #hunter #the bad batch #wrecker x you #wrecker x reader #social anxiety #bad childhood #statistics #star wars fanfiction #fic request

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saladejin · 4 years

Text

Admire | 07

Seokjin x Fem!Reader | arranged marriage!au, husband!Seokjin | Strangers to lovers, angst, self discovery, loneliness in luxury, touch starvation (eventual smut), eventual domestic fluff

Summary: You’d never needed anyone else. Growing up alone, living alone, existing alone. It all came naturally and effortlessly, quite like breathing. That was until your somewhat distant parents finally decided it was time to make good on a promise. One they’d made before you were even born.

Warnings: Things are getting a lil saucier

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Whew, finally we’re up to date. I FINALLY got around to re-editing and revamping this latest chapter, but once again I’m sorry for the delay on it. Now I can start focusing on my wips :))

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The driver bid you both a chaste farewell and soon you were making your way up to house both of you had grown used to sharing. These days, it was simply your safe space, a place you’d slowly begun to warm up to, where you could live and work peacefully in the unimposing presence of your husband, who worked equally as hard for his family.

This was your place to finally belong, the stupidly large mansion that could house ten more of you plus your family with ease, but alas it was still your mansion.

Our … mansion.

You couldn’t recall the moment where you’d begun to think of it as a home rather than a house. In your mind, it wasn’t really the house itself, but rather the people who lived there that made it a place you could truly call home.

You looked over to Seokjin and suppressed a sigh of built up emotion. The man was currently bringing most of the bags inside without a hitch, making use of his broad shoulders and hauling weight as if he weren’t wielding enough hierarchical power to get it brought in for him by the driver. Watching the scene only reminded you of how much had changed during your time away.

For one, Seokjin had shocked you with how easily he’d adapted to the different atmosphere and routine. There were no complaints from him about accommodation, food, or even the over-the-top rowdiness and friendliness of the company. He’d taken it all on board with a curiosity you honestly found adorable, and even adopted some of the various mannerisms. Watching him carrying all the luggage inside was just an example of his new way of living, one you chose to call ‘like a normal person’.

You were also growing closer somehow. The usually stoic man had opened up significantly, and you were discovering new things about him just as quickly as he discovered them himself. For instance, he found an enjoyment for cooking after helping some of the uncles with their traditional barbeque, he’d shown interest in acquiring a guitar for himself as soon as he could, and he was becoming more talkative as he began relaxing his hold on the professional barrier between you.

It was as if he was finally allowing himself to live the kind of life he always wanted. No luxurious parties, no expectations, no having to save face with every public outing. You were a messy mixture of nerves, uneasiness, and excitement at the prospect of getting to know Seokjin for who he was.

He had to discover who he was first, though.

“Dinner will be delivered soon.” His voice filtered out from the kitchen area distantly, and only then you realised you’d been standing in the front entrance in a daze. Lost in your thoughts like a fool. Even so, it was hard to miss the odd note hidden deep within his tired voice.

“Why do you sound disappointed? Is it not what you wanted?” you queried while leaving your bags at the front door for someone to collect later. You made your way into the living room with probing eyes, trying to find where his voice was coming from before spotting his black mop of hair scattered on the back of the lounge.

He didn’t respond at first, only met your gaze with his own investigative ones. You sat down heavily on the other lounge with a sharp exhale. Seokjin drummed his fingers against the leather while lifting one leg to cross over the other elegantly, and you knew he was just trying to avoid talking about what was on his mind.

“You can tell me, you know.” You rolled your eyes at his silence.

He ran both hands through his hair roughly and you almost felt breathless at how messy he’d made himself, like he’d just rolled out of bed. Considering you were both still in your casual clothing from the road trip, it was a sight that made your whole body tingle with a fondness you couldn’t explain. You were just beginning to see more of his hidden personality, and that made you happy in some indescribable way.

“I don’t know, I was hoping to actually try and cook something for once. Like hyung was telling me…”

“Oh? there’s that word again,” you chuckled, trying to ignore the happy swell in your chest after hearing that he wanted to try cooking the same things from a few nights ago, “and you can get the grill out tomorrow night if you want.”

“Hmm, I’ll see how I feel. Anyway, what word?” he asked while sitting back and continuing to run his hand through his hair lazily, expression puzzled. You felt so annoyed at the longing you felt to be the one doing it for him. You had been wondering what his silky looking tresses had felt like for the longest time.

“Is it ‘hyung’?” You smiled in embarrassment, mouthing out the word carefully to try and pronounce it in an acceptable manner at least, though you could never hope to sound fluent right off the bat. Seokjin’s eyes fell to you as the word left your lips, the small lifting of his cheeks being the only hint that he was trying to suppress his amusement. The way his cocoa coloured eyes sparkled at the sound of his native tongue made your heart squirm.

“It’s a good attempt, but no it’s pronounced more like ‘hyeong’. Try it.”

“Hyung.”

“Yeah, that’s … better.”

You hid your grin with the back of your hand, eyebrows shooting up at his unsure sounding feedback. He even managed to crack a tiny smirk of his own, his full lips making him look even more model-like under the soft lighting of your living room.

“Hey, how am I meant to get it perfect straight away? Besides, I forgot what it means already,” you huffed, and brought your legs to tuck comfortably underneath you.

“It’s just a term we use to refer to older males,” he explained, letting his head fall back against the seat slowly. Seeing his eyes fluttering to a close made you wonder how tired he must’ve been feeling. After spending so much time interacting with strangers, and driving, and pretending to be your husband, you supposed.

The jarring noise of the doorbell brought you to your feet, and you went to collect your dinner from the front door as Seokjin gave a quiet nod.

Now that he’s brought it up, I think I’d prefer a home cooked meal too.

“So, am I meant to call you ‘hyung’?” You laughed inwardly while making your way back to him. You were excited to learn more about him now that he was opening up and unfurling in front of your eyes.

He had to purse his lips slightly to avoid smiling again. “No, and please don’t. It would feel way too odd to hear that from you.”

“Oh.” Your heart cracked a little, thinking of course he wouldn’t want his foreign partner to try and so poorly imitate something such as his native language, something he considered close to his heart and home. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t think-”

“It’s okay, it’s just that Korean women don’t use ‘hyung’. If you are female and want to refer to an older male, or partner…” He seemed to hesitate, as if rethinking his decision to elaborate on the subject at all. “Then you can call m- you can use ‘oppa’.”

You swallowed a mouthful of steak before attempting to copy him. “Oppa?”

Seokjin blinked before giving you a tiny nod. Not a single second passed before he was focusing back on his food, the conversation apparently hitting a weird place for him.

“I don’t have to go around calling you that. It’s not like I’m trying to adopt another culture,” you clarified for him, noting how his shoulders seemed to relax at your gentle tone. “I only want to understand you better, Seokjin.”

His hands faltered in their movements to cut the tender steak on his plate. You didn’t catch any change in his expression, as expected, but his eyes gleamed with something you could only describe as appreciation. A few months ago, neither of you probably thought you’d end up sharing your ethnic differences with one another over dinner like this.

The house had always been so silent with just the two of you, and your mind kept thinking back to your old home where there were always maids, cooks and butlers milling about. It struck you as a little peculiar, so you decided to ask.

“Sorry to change the subject, but why is it that your mother requested there to be no live-in staff here?”

Seokjin continued to eat slowly but looked up with a thoughtful gleam in his eye. “I was confused too, but she always brushed it off. Something about family traditions requiring minimal interferences? I didn’t really get it since I’d never heard of said ‘tradition’, but I never really understood her methods anyway.”

Oh…

Your face burned as you understood what he was saying. It was almost laughable, how oblivious he was to his mother’s implications. The thought probably never crossed his mind that she could be referring to the two of you having sexual relations in some way. Well, why should the thought cross his mind?

This was never meant to be anything more than a fake relationship, an array of masks worn only to fool them into believing it was true. It was easy to understand why his mother would think accordingly. You had been trying to trick her, but perhaps you’d been just a little too convincing.

“Yeah, weird huh?” You cleared your throat, offering to take up his dish as you both finished off the meals. The case of the understaffing was forgotten as you moved back to where your husband was half sprawled on the couch, but now the quiet hum of the television accompanied the room and you were thankful to have something filling the silence. Even if it was something was simple as slightly muffled voices from the people on the big screen.

You plonked back down on the leather and felt relaxation crawl up your spine in the best way. You were slowly beginning to believe that there was almost nothing better than this. Spending a night at home with someone you cared about, watching a movie or TV show, nice and warm and comfortable.

You briefly registered that in your current position, Seokjin’s arm that’d been outstretched along the back of the seat now rested just behind your neck. You thought nothing of it, knowing he sure as hell wouldn’t, but let your imagination take the reins at all the possibilities presenting themselves.

Imagining a smile tugging at his lips as he brought his arm down to drape across your shoulders. His warm hand as it cupped your jaw, a gentle thumb drawing tiny circles into the flushing skin along your cheekbone. You imagined the feeling of your smaller hand travelling up the hardened expanse of his clothed chest, feeling the lean muscle and taut ridges underneath the flimsy barrier separating skin from skin.

You felt your face flush further in surprise when your daydream was snapped away into thin air, the cushion underneath you squeaking as he suddenly moved from his slumped position.

“I’m about ready to call it a night. The driving must’ve taken more out of me than I thought,” he said while sporting a grunt of effort, his face wincing at the pop of his joints once he stretched his long legs out. As he brought his arm inwards to follow suit, you felt the slightest brush of his fingers graze your neck. The small shudder that racked your body from the sensation was instantaneous, and you knew that your shameless imagination from earlier had made the cravings for his touch worse.

Unintentionally, your body shifted to try and follow his hand before you managed to will yourself into a stiff, unmoving statue.

Shit, what was that?

You closed your eyes and blew out your cheeks in annoyance, directed at nobody but yourself. Was it really all becoming too much for you the handle at this point? When had you become so … pathetic and needy? This wasn’t like you at all.

It was only then you realised Seokjin hadn��t moved since your loss of inhibitions. You wrenched your eyes open and glanced over to him, knowing full well that his observant gaze had seen the entire display from beginning to end. Oh God no!

“(Y/n), I’ve been thinking,” came Seokjin’s voice through the robotic sounding laughs emitting from the speakers of the television. He was holding his arm awkwardly in the air just above his own lap, as if it had been electrocuted and was no longer capable of moving.

“About what? Oh, when is our next event? I forgot to ask you earlier,” you uttered faintly, trying to cover up your reddening face with one hand. There was no way he was going to let what happened slide, you knew just by seeing the pointed look in his curious dark eyes. He lowered his arm and kept his eyes fixated on your jittery form.

“Not for ages, but anyway that’s not what I was thinking about,” he said with a lazy mumble to his voice that was honestly just a little too low, teetering on seductive but obviously unintentional.

You mentally implored him to forget your stupid reactions. It was getting out of hand and you were already trying your best to rein yourself in.

“Oh?” You raised a brow, waiting for the inevitable questioning that was surely coming your way.

In all honesty, you just wanted to go shower and sleep for the next week. During the trip you’d had so many restless nights, being too caught up on the whole sharing a bed situation. It got better as time went on, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t meant to be there in between the sheets with him. Every time, you held yourself back from the urge to touch him and shuffle closer to his side.

Rein it in. Rein-

Seokjin finally parted his lips in to respond, “It’s just that I can’t help noticing how you get lost in your thoughts lately, along with all the other odd reactions. You keep getting this look on your face, like you’re longing for something, and I can’t help but think back to what you were saying at Taehyung’s party.”

Okay, well this was a bit more than you expected. You felt shivers of humiliation travelling up your skin at the thought of him noticing your fantasizing, of all things. Were you really becoming that obvious even in a state of subconscious? Damn, things were really worse than you thought.

“What? At Tae’s party?” you murmured, trying to awkwardly laugh it off in the process. How did he manage to call you out like that with the straightest of faces? It was almost unfair that he could be so serious and not become affected by these things.

“Yeah,” Seokjin continued. “How you said you craved human touch all the time because the way you grew up left you wanting. I realised during the trip, how content you looked when you were receiving affection from your family members … and me.”

You snapped your eyes up to him, looking to see if his expression would give anything away about what he was thinking even though you knew it was futile. To your shock, his face actually wasn’t the same blank slate you were used to seeing when he pondered. For the first time, you saw him show slight apprehension as he nibbled on his plush bottom lip.

‘And me’ he’d said. You were suddenly thrown back to that one night in the motorhome, which honestly seemed like a mere fever dream, where he’d run his hands along your body and held you close for the first time. That first night you had shared the same bed, and all the dams had broken within you.

It was the night I opened up to him, and maybe that was when he decided to do the same.

“So, I want-”

He cut himself off and sat forward, looking so bewildered and lost that you were beginning to grow concerned. At the recollection of all these memories, you were already feeling vulnerable and ashamed. His vagueness was not helping you keep your shit together.

“I want you to show me what you mean. What are you asking for when you say those things?” He finished by clasping his hands together and looking up at you as hopefully as he could, which was minimal for him. You couldn’t really believe your ears at this point.

“Show you?” you repeated in disbelief. “H-how?”

“Show me what you need,” he rephrased, straightening his back slightly and fiddling with his fingers.

It was a cute little habit you’d never seen before, but your brain could barely register that when you were already reeling from what he was saying. He was close enough that you could catch the scent of his faint cologne, and it was making your head spin faster and faster. The quiet sound of the television faded out as you focused on his beautiful eyes right in front of you.

“You want me to touch you?” You tilted your head, feeling like you were having an out-of-body experience when he nodded to confirm your suspicions.

“If that’s what you want.”

It was strange, not knowing whether to feel happy or whether to feel humiliated, or relieved, or even saddened; all because of your neediness that he’d seen way too many times.

“Okay.”

Your shoulders sagged in a strange sense of defeat. This whole impasse had been your weakness from the start, and now it was finally coming to light. You were ready to help him understand things from your point of view, and maybe he would start to see why you’d been acting this way.

He’d grown up in a similar environment, even despite some stark differences. Why couldn’t there be just a small chance that he might relate somehow?

“What do you feel when you get close to another person?” you asked softly, untangling your feet from under each other and resting them squarely on the ground in front of you. It was intimidating to look up at his looming figure this boldly, yet being so close to his body heat only seemed to put you more at ease.

You wanted to fall into him and have him cradle you in his arms, but you knew that if you were going to show him the right way, you needed to take it slow.

“I don’t feel so different. It doesn’t happen often, actually,” he mused while keeping his eyes focused on you. “When I see my mother at galas or balls, I suppose it just feels like I want to get away.”

You stifled a chuckle at the thought of his mother’s smothering putting him off. It was like that for so many kids out there, but you couldn’t share that feeling when it was lucky for you to even see your mother once in a while. Seokjin’s tensed frame seem to falter slightly when you knowingly smiled up at him. Gone was the shyness, the tiptoeing, the never-ending feeling of restraint.

This was your husband in front of you, and now he was asking you to touch him.

“That’s understandable Seokjin, but I mean in other instances where it’s perhaps more welcomed, or even instigated mainly by you. Say, you see your brother after a long time, so you hug him. Yes?”

The man’s black hair bounced slightly as he nodded. You hadn’t made any moves to be closer to him yet, and you could sense his confusion, but truly it was best to go gradual for him to understand. Rather than you just throwing yourself at him in a barrage of limbs.

“How does that make you feel, compared to how you feel normally?” you tried again, your eyes wide with a curiosity that probably burned even brighter than his. A month or so ago, you never would’ve thought you’d be having such a close and intimate conversation about his relationships.

Clearly, the road trip had not only changed you both in multiple ways, but it had also changed the very dynamic tying you together. The foundations of your relationship, and what it meant to each of you. The man sitting before you now was nothing but a far cry from the man you’d once faced at the altar. As foolish as it was, you could not be prouder of him.

“I suppose I was taught to just do it in certain situations. I never thought about how it made me feel,” he offered in a low voice, brows furrowing as he tried thinking about how he could be more helpful. The slight pout to his pinkish lips had your heart beating erratically.

“Seokjin, do you care about me?” you asked, and time drew to a stop.

This was the kind of question you told yourself you would never ask him. It was almost impossible to answer considering your circumstances, and the owlish look in his eyes told you that you were right in thinking so.

“Yes.”

Your world resumed spinning, but the silence continued. Honestly, you didn’t think you would have kept it together if he’d answered no. You loved him, that much you were sure of, but before the holiday you had been confused about whether you cared for the man so strongly out of your pure desire for close friendship and companionship. You weren’t dense though. These feelings were far more than that, and you were an idiot for entertaining them.

You stared into each other’s eyes, trying to read foreign minds and figure out what it all meant. He cared about you, and you cared about him. That much was a given, but the true depth of that fact remained a constant unknown. He exhaled sharply, almost as if he couldn’t really believe he’d answered so sincerely. So quickly.

“I didn’t think I would, but since the beginning you’ve turned out to be quite different than who I thought I’d be married to. My life … changed, but it was seamless and easy compared to the complicated mess I thought I was going to have to deal with,” he explained with sad eyes. His gaze had been trained on the floor since he’d given you ‘yes’ as an answer.

You shifted closer and brought one hand up to lift his lowered jaw, angling it to face you so you could see his inquisitive eyes once more. His large hands remained clenched in his lap, unsure of what to do at this point.

“Seokjin I care about you too, so you don’t have to feel like you’re on your own here.” You laughed quietly, noticing his shoulders relax as you moved your hand up to rest on the side of his face. Your fingertips buried themselves into the shorter strands of his hair.

If only he knew the true extent of my feelings.

You cleared your throat, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts before they took over, and switched your teacher mode on quickly. “This is a … type of contact that you can kind of do anytime, and you can even play with the person’s hair, or just kind of massaging gently.”

You demonstrated by slowly bringing your hands up to run through his marvelous black locks, lips parting in amazement at the feeling of his soft hair you’d always imagined combing back with your fingers. Your other hand shaped itself to his face as you tried your best to stop yourself from leaning any further forward.

You couldn’t kiss him like this just yet. Not when it would actually mean something to him, for the first time.

“Why do you say ‘the person’s’? You know I wouldn’t have the nerve to try this with anyone else, right?” He murmured unexpectedly; his eyes somewhat nervous at what you were implying. You were quick to push your surprise away and nodded, because it was the only response you could think of.

He took a small but deep breath to regain himself, letting his stoic persona continue to melt underneath your touch. “May I?” he asked in a soft voice, and once again all you could do was nod your head.

He brought one of his hands up hesitantly and you couldn’t help a small fond smile at the way he was concentrating so intently on the movement. As soon as his hand made contact with the skin of your cheek, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into it. He watched in wonder as your eyes fluttered shut, his other hand now carding itself through your slightly messy hair.

If you’d been a cat, you were certain a distinct sound of purring would emanate from your throat.

He smoothed all your hair back until it was no longer ruffled, and then brought both hands back to cradle your face once more. You didn’t realise you’d been leaning forward and running your hands up his chest until the moment you reached his shirt collar, and your eyes zeroed in on the expanse of his neck just long enough to see his Adam’s apple bob up and down in a hard swallow.

“Um, now you can touch a bit lower if you want. Or just hold my hands if you’re more comfortable with that,” you breathed, trying to bring your thoughts to a focal point while removing your hands from him sharply. He looked so picturesque up this close. You just wanted to stay in this position for hours upon hours.

“Like this?” He voiced hoarsely. You tried to keep your breathing normal as one of his hands fell down to encompass yours, but the other traced the line of your jaw before gliding downwards and brushing against the tender skin of your neck. Just has he had in the beginning before all of this had started.

“Yeah.”

You almost whimpered at the tingling sensation, but kept it in for the sake of the exercise. This man was absolutely dangerous for your wellbeing. It wasn’t even his actions at this point, just his undivided attention and careful eyes tracing over the curve of your figure that had your insides turning to jelly.

“That’s probably enough for now. I can hear your brain working,” you spoke and let out an airy laugh when his fingers hesitated in their descent. It was as if he was trying to compute too much information at once, and somehow, the way he was trying his best was oddly charming.

He grunted. “I’m just- I’m trying to understand you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” you responded with a genuine smile, noticing how his words mirrored your own from earlier back when you’d butchered his native tongue. “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m so exhausted I could pass out.”

“Yeah, now I’m really calling it a night.” He cleared his throat with a sigh, mind clearly burning out from the overload of new experiences.

He stood from the couch so suddenly, a stiffness taking hold of his movements. Just what was going through his head at a time like this? You missed his close proximity almost immediately.

Like a robot programmed to move, you also heaved your body up from where it was beginning to sink into the cushions. This whole turn of events seemed unreal, and you could feel your heart still throbbing in your chest at the feeling of Seokjin underneath your fingertips. He had been so warm and had looked so beautiful.

You ran your fingers through your hair as the silence permeated the air, the only sounds being your husband's gentle footsteps as he packed away a few things around the house. You gathered your own bags from the front door and sluggishly traipsed towards your bedroom at the opposite end of the hallway.

I don't want to be on my own.

The invasive thought made you take a few shaky steps back. You were ready to put everything at risk and confess to him how lonely and in love you were, yet to your surprise the sound of his voice softly calling your name made you falter in your tracks.

You stood in the doorway looking outwards as he loitered in front of his own bedroom door at the opposite end, one large hand resting on the doorknob as if he'd been hesitating to open it.

"Did you hear me?"

You relaxed your stance, a sudden embarrassment beginning to settle in at how eager your movements were. "Yeah? What is it?"

Please let me stay with you. Please let me-

"Isn't it - doesn't it seem strange?" He seemed to inwardly backpedal all of a sudden, his pretty eyes falling to the floor and his slightly down-turned nose twitched in regret. "I mean, sorry if this is weird, but after sharing a bed for the entire road trip, doesn't it feel strange to suddenly go back to our own rooms?"

“Ah.” You somehow managed to suppress a hefty sigh of relief, pure ecstasy shooting through your body like some special brand of heroin. You tried to bump up his courage with a reassuring smile. "Jin yes, I still want to spend the night with you."

His eyes rose from the floor as the burden lifted from his mind, shoulders seeming to shake free the stiffness that had taken hold of them ever since the couch fiasco.

"I'm glad. Come over here then."

#seokjin x reader #seokjin scenarios #btsghostie #btsgoldnet #seokjin smut #seokjin imagines #seokjin series #jin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #arranged marriage au #husband jin #bts jin #bts smut #jin angst #admire #saladejin

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

Text

Catch me - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you’re Tom’s neighbor and he comes to your place after he’s locked out of his house on a rainy night. Requested by anon. + Dry Humping also requested by different anon ask

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cursing

A/N: okay, so here it is! My Tom Hardy requested smut! I’d also like to announce that I’ll be attempting to partake in this years’ Kinktober, and this is my first fic, fulfilling the prompts dry humping + face sitting. I’ll post the list of prompts I created for myself, along with the characters they are paired up with, a bit later. I also say “attempting” because I actually had a pretty bad accident last night and I’m still unable to do regular things like sitting or walking, so it’s been a struggle to get this done. If in anyday I am unable to write, I won’t force myself to do it. But that’s all, please enjoy this fic and let me know what you think of it! My requests are now empty, so feel free to send me any ideas you might have - I can either integrate them in one of my fics for the kinktober challenge or work on them in November.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I had watched with only partly concealed interest as the new neighbor slowly grew more comfortable at her place right next door to me. At first, it truly was just a slight curiosity founded in my observation of just how beautiful she was. But then, one day, right after she moved in, she caught me staring, and opened up the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. Just like that, I was stuck with a teenage-boy crush that left me blushing and stuttering every single time she so much as looked my way.

If there was one thing people knew about me, was that I was not the blushing, stuttering type.

But things only got worse as time went on. She turned out to be just the perfect neighbor, usually coming around to offer me cookies or other baked goods precisely when I needed it the most.

“How do you always know when I’m feeling down or hungry, sweetheart?” I even ended up asking as I accepted yet another tray of brownies from her tiny hands. Her sweet little giggle went straight to my pants, instantly hardening my severely ignored member.

“It’s not that hard to figure out, Tom. Anytime you get back home this late, I can pretty much assume you barely had anything to eat all day, and it’s very clear you won’t have the energy to whip up anything right now.” My eyebrows raised up at her comment, but before I could satiate my curiosity, she quickly added, “And before you ask, no, I don’t spend my life looking out of the eyehole, you just have pretty loud steps when you’re tired, I can easily hear from my living room when you walk the hallway during the evening.”

Chuckling, I nodded, granting her that. I knew that she meant no harm, but I couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try to be more mindful next time.” Her eyes widened at my apology, and she immediately waved my words away, clearly mortified by the fact that I had interpreted it as a complaint.

“Gosh, Tom, no, that’s not what I… Please, don’t worry about it. I’m just a terrible insomniac, and I have good ears. It’s not like you’re waking me up every time you come home or anything. That would be a bummer, but also highly improbable, since I’m a very heavy sleeper…” I had come to understand that she was very capable of maintaining a conversation completely by herself, but everytime she took notice of it, she scrambled to get out of my sight. I figured someone in her life must have told her she talked too much, but personally, I’d do anything to witness her little monologues at least a bit more. She just seemed so interesting, and selfless despite the constant stream of consciousness that poured out of her lips whenever she was nervous.

I liked knowing I made her nervous. It made me feel less terrible about wanting to know more about her. Did that make me a creep? Hell, probably. But I couldn’t pretend like I gave a damn. I felt this inexplicable attraction to her, her personality and body, and that was it. I wanted to uncover what it was about her that had me so engrossed.

And one night, the opportunity presented itself to me. I had gone out of my car in a hurry because of the rain that had decided to pour all over the city and didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon, so I only noticed that I had locked my keys on the trunk of the car when I was already in front of my own apartment’s door, dripping all over the hallway.

Fuck, that was just so typical of me. Why did I even bother to get my backpack out of the car, when I was already arriving home close to midnight and would be back at work early in the morning? It wasn’t like I would have the time to use my computer or anything.

Sighing, I ran a wet hand over my face in an effort to figure out my next move. Obviously I would need to get someone to open my car for me, but in the middle of the night, it’d be hard to know who would come. It would definitely be easier to find someone in the morning, and I could very well get an Uber to some cheap motel and spend the night there.

I was about to do just that when suddenly the door behind me opened, and a delicious smell of lasagna filled my nostrils, making me aware of just how hungry I was. “Tom?” Her sweet, sweet voice instantly calmed my tense muscles, making me open a smile at the sight of her despite the series of events I had just lived through. “Is something wrong?”

A low chuckle escaped my lips at the awareness of just how pathetic my situation was, but there was no real humour in my tone. I looked down at my wet shoes before gathering the courage to look her in the eye again, giving her a small smile. “I locked myself out,” was all I said, and before I could even further explain my situation, her eyes had widened and she was reaching out to me, holding me by my wrist and pulling me inside of her place.

“You poor thing. And right on the worst night for it to happen? Here, sit down while I go look for something you can change into. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, would we?” I briefly considered offering some kind of protest, explaining how I intended to go spend the night in a motel, but the truth was, I didn’t want to. It was late, I was tired and I was really fucking cold and just by being in the close proximity of this beautiful creature, I already felt a little bit better, so I’d just shut up and wait to see how this would play out for me.

She came back with some sweatpants and a large cotton shirt, a bashful look on her face. “I bought these sweatpants from the male’s department because they’re usually comfier than the ones I find in the female department, they should fit you well.” I accepted the small bundle of fabric she offered, one eyebrow raised as I stared down at her in curiosity.

“What about the shirt?” I asked, and she blushed five different shades of pinks and reds, making her just that much cuter. It made me want to eat her whole, and the fact that she stood a few good feet under me didn’t help that at all. I knew I could break her so easily.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I felt like I could slap myself over how silly I was behaving over something so ordinary. Why would Tom care about me having an ex? It was only natural, it’s not like I was a blushing virgin nun who never did anything slightly out of the ordinary. Sex was ordinary. I’ve done it before. I’m sure Tom wouldn’t assume I hadn’t.

Oh, what am I saying? There’s no way he has even considered this subject when it comes to me. Why on Earth would he be thinking about my sexual past? What is going on with me? I feel like I’m going insane.

I could feel just how warm my face had gotten, but I still had some amount of pride in me to salvage the situation, so I managed to roll my eyes as I pushed Tom further inside my house, in the direction of my bathroom.

“You’re a smart man, you can figure out where the shirt came from.” His chuckle shouldn’t be so sexy, but what about this man wasn’t?

“That’s not the answer I hoped for.” And with that mysterious sentence, he locked himself in my bathroom and left me alone with my thoughts. Granted, most of them revolved around him, so I couldn’t really say I was that alone, but the lack of someone to talk to only meant that my mind was swirling and a lot of different things I shouldn’t be thinking about managed to dominate my head.

Just what did he mean by what he said? Could it be that he… No, of course not. There was no reason for him to be jealous of me. It’s not like he could possibly want me. Right?

I spent the entire time he was taking a shower stuck in the same pattern of thoughts, so much so that I didn’t even notice he had come back to the kitchen and was watching me from the doorway until he cleared his throat, making me jump out of my skin while carrying a plate full of very hot lasagna.

“Oh,” was all I said as I felt some of the sauce spill on my hand and my chest, some even managing to get on my face. But Tom’s rough ‘Shit’ brought a giggle to my lips, despite the discomfort of the slight burning sensation on my skin.

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I thought you’d noticed me standing here.” While he assured me of his lack of intention to hurt me - as if I didn’t already know- he had grabbed the plate I was still holding onto and placed it on the counter, quickly procuring an already dirty rag and eagerly starting to clean me up, first my hand, and then…

Before he pressed the fabric to my chest, he looked up at me, his beautiful eyes catching mine and making me suck in a breath. “T-that’s alright,” I managed to get out, trying to look away from his hypnotizing gaze. “It doesn’t really hurt that bad. I think with a bit of cold water it might calm down.”

He nodded, agreeing with my words, but his gaze still searched mine for something I didn’t understand. “I sure hope so,” was all he said initially, his eyes finally dropping from mine to focus on the task at hand. “But I must say, I’m very disappointed.”

The comment puzzled me, rendering me useless for the time being. I could only tilt my head as I looked down at him, still crouching in front of me to clean my chest before he finally stood up on his full height and grabbed my face, gently engulfing it in one of those huge palms of his.

“I was really hoping that you were single, but I guess that would be expecting too much from the universe, considering how beautiful you are.” My eyes grew twice their normal size as I immediately tried to push him away and hide my face from his view, suddenly incredibly shy. But of course, he didn’t let me, instead pressing me against the counter and his very hard body, while he very carefully wiped away the few drops of sauce on my cheek.

For a few seconds, I let him work in silence, still trying to gather my nerves so I could say something. I should say something, shouldn’t I? I mean, here lies an opportunity that I never thought I’d experience, and here I was, being all silly about it. Finally, when he had at last finished slowly rubbing the rag against my skin, and seemed to be about to separate himself from me, I sprung into action, pulling him to me again by his forearms.

“I-I am,” that’s all I managed to say, immediately cringing at my own lack of social skills. “Single, I mean.” Very smooth. Well done, Y/N. But despite my stupidity, it seemed that I was able to achieve my intention, since my sentence made Tom finally get rid of the rag and hold my face between both of his hands now, his thumbs softly running over my cheekbones.

“Oh, is that so?” He breathed out against my skin, our lips inches away from one another, and I shivered against my best wishes. That reaction caused a predatory smirk to appear on his face, and I knew then and there that I was in way over my head. “Good to know,” he whispered, and then his lips were on mine, forcing me to accept his tongue, eating me whole.

He tasted like peppermint and coffee and I was already addicted to his taste, hoping to God I tasted as great to him as he did to me. At least, he didn’t complain. In fact, by the way he sucked on my tongue, forcing his deep inside my mouth, I’d go as far as to say that he did like what he tasted.

Before long, he had pulled me up on the counter, his hands holding me by my waist as his lips ventured from my mouth to my jaw, until they found a spot on my neck that made me gasp and hold his shirt tightly, and then he was sucking, rolling his tongue on the spot where I could already feel a bruise forming, before his teeth carved their own impressions on my skin, imprinting himself on me.

My head swirled with the force of the emotions bursting through me. My legs wrapped themselves around his strong body, and I was happy that my hands knew what to do when my mind hadn’t still managed to catch up to this turn of events. When his tongue came out to lick right over my collarbones, the response gasp he elicited from me came out sounding much more like a sob than anything else.

“You’re so sensitive, princess,” He teased me, still otherwise occupied with marking my skin as his. “I’ve barely even started and here you are…” His hands ran through the expanse of my body, like he was showing his proof to an audience. “... a mess already.”

He wasn’t wrong. I was somehow dripping already. I could feel it, dripping from inside of me, slowly ruining the panties I was wearing. They were so not appropriate for the activities I was currently partaking in, but how the hell would I have known this was going to happen?

All I knew was that Tom had lit the fire inside of me, and now the flames were threatening to swallow us both.

Tom’s P.O.V.

She was just too cute, so out of breath and trembling with desire with the little I’d done to tease her. It just made me want to ruin her even more. My little neighbor, so perfect and sweet, so needy for me.

She didn’t even realize she had started to grind herself against me, in search of some sort of release. Well, I wasn’t about to cut her off. Unstead, I took advantage of my grip on her, pulling her body until I was the one keeping her up, trapped between my body and the counter.

“Rub your tiny wet cut against my jeans, love,” I ordered in a demanding whisper right on her ear, making her shiver. She obeyed without any sort of hesitation, looking up at me underneath her eyelashes with her eyes glazed over with lust. “That’s it…” Fuck if the pressure wasn’t exactly what I needed to help ease up some of the tension from the need I was feeling in my veins. “Rub yourself against my hard cock, don’t be shy.”

My words seemed to be gasoline for her, giving her the push she needed to grind herself even harder against my bulge. I decided to help her, pushing her more firmly against the counter and following the movements, rejoicing in the pleasure gasp that escaped her lips as the added pressure provided more friction to her clit.

“Fuck…” She whispered, and I think that in the entirety of the four months of conversations I’d entertained with her, that was the first time I’d heard her cuss. The four letter word I was so familiarized with had a new, unexpected effect on me, making the situation inside my pants so difficult I had to stop my movements and slow hers down by her hips, so I wouldn’t just jizz on my pants like a fucking teenager.

But Y/N didn’t stop, despite accepting my silent request to decrease the fervor of our activities. When I finally managed to get control over myself again, I realized why. She had gripped the counter behind her and was using it to better control her movements, and it was clear by the way her head hung back and her mouth fell open that she was about to cum just like that.

“Shit,” I cussed just as the realization hit, and it felt like all of the control I’d managed to build in the last few seconds I closed my eyes had suddenly escaped through the window. My cock was painfully hard again, and all I could think of was that I needed to get out of these fucking jeans.

Who could blame me, though? When she looked like that, creaming her panties with her clothes still on? Shit, I couldn’t wait to get her naked and underneath me. I needed to feel her from the inside, explore her wetness with my hard cock.

But first, I was desperate to get a taste of her. So as soon as her breathing came back to a somewhat regular pattern, I was careful to put her on the ground again, making sure she was able to stand on her own legs, before dropping to my knees in front of her.

“What are you… Oh.” I couldn’t help but to chuckle at the innocence of her mind that stopped her from immediately understanding what I intended to do, but then I was pushing her skirt up and away from my view and her panties were in front of me and they were drenched, absolutely ruined by the sticky liquid that made my mouth water.

“Fuck, princess…” I moaned as I carefully peeled the cotton fabric down her legs, keeping it pooled around her ankles as I pushed her legs open as far as they could go. She was dripping, a single line of her wetness connecting both of her thighs, making me groan at the sight. “You might just kill me…” I commented before reaching up to pull her to me, effectively burying my face on her.

“T-Tom!” The sound of my name escaping her lips with that reverent tone left me even hungrier for her, as did her exquisite taste. It painted my tongue with its sweetness, embedding itself in my cells, making sure I’d never be able to forget it. I already knew I’d be hungry for her again the second I pulled away from her cunt.

Nonetheless, I forced myself to stop for a moment to gather my senses, as her taste made it harder and harder to control my need to relieve my aching member. I needed to be inside of her, and quickly.

Abruptly rising up to my full height, I picked her up by the back of her thighs so she’d wrap her legs around me and took us to where I’d assumed her bedroom would be, considering I was familiarized with the general layout of the apartments. The second I laid her on the bed, my hands were struggling with my own belt, as I watched her pull her dress over her head, now completely bare before me.

“You’re so fucking hot.” When my pants dropped to the floor and my cock slapped my lower stomach, I pounced on her immediately, crawling on the space between her legs and pulled her by the back of her neck to connect our lips once more. “Do you want to be railed tonight, pretty neighbor?”

She fucking whimpered in response, repetitions of “yes” and “please” escaping her lips as she tried to pull me closer to her by the legs she embraced me with. Not having it in me to stop this moment any longer, I gripped my member with one of my hands while I held her hips down with the other, briefly rubbing the blunt head of my cock over her sensitive clit before pushing myself completely inside of her.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, blindsided by the tightness, wetness and warmness that now surrounded me. “I knew your cunt would be fucking delicious.” I watched her as I pulled out until just my tip was inside of her, only to push it back in as forcefully as I could.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hands flew up to hold my shoulders, almost as if she wanted to push me away or tell me to take it easy, but as her legs continued to pull me even deeper inside, I knew what she really needed was to be properly fucked.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Tom was not exaggerating; he really did pound me against my mattress, immediately setting up the most brutal of paces. It hurt, especially with how much he was stretching me, but it felt too fucking good to complain about it.

The only thing I could do was to relax and accept this invasion, this possession of my body by my next-door neighbor. I knew I must have been quite a vision, my arms thrown up in search of something to hold on to, spit escaping the corner of my lips by the intensity of the thrusts, my breasts shaking as he pulled me back to meet his thrusts by my hips. I hoped I’d have some bruises on the shape of his fingertips to remember this night.

Not like I would ever be able to forget, anyway. Only a lunatic would expel the visions of Tom looking like this while fucking them, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the sweat gathering over his eyebrows. I wanted to kiss it away. I wanted to taste its saltiness.

Just as my head began to twirl in time with the growth of arousal in my lower belly, Tom’s eyes travelled upwards from the point where his cock was buried inside of me to find my breasts, one of his hands immediately following suit. When his pull on my nipple was accompanied by the feeling of his warm mouth engulfing the other one, I screamed as I came all around him, my head thrown back and eyes closed as I relished in the feeling of being so perfectly filled, so perfectly touched.

“Fuckin’ tight.” Tom fucked me through my orgasm, but at the sight of my eyes blinking back open, he pulled out, easily manhandling me into turning around and rising on all fours. “This fucking ass… Do you have any idea how long I dreamt about fucking you like this?”

I didn’t know how, but his words and the way his huge hands sprawled over the cheeks of my butt reignited the flames that had just been fed, and I found myself pushing back against him, offering myself up to him. Anything to get his cock inside of me again.

“Please…” I all but begged, and I heard his breath hitching behind me. “Just… please keep fucking me.” Perhaps that was all that he needed, because in a second his cock was tearing me open again, so fucking deep that I could feel it in my stomach.

“Fuck… If I had known how it would look to have my little perfect neighbor begging for my cock, I would have fucked you ages ago.” Every single thing that came out of that man’s mouth was like sin. He wrapped my hair around his fist, suddenly using it to pull me back to him as he raised one of his legs to the mattress, the new angle making each of his thrusts hit that spot inside of me that made everything just a little more satisfying.

I could feel tears running down my cheeks, falling on my spread out hands as I struggled to keep breathing through his assault on my senses. “Are you gonna cum again, love?” I could hear him asking, and I wanted to answer, I really did, but every time I opened my mouth, only sobs came out. “Are you? Here, let me help you out.”

The feeling of his rough fingers softly caressing my clit was such a stark contrast to the way he was still brutally pounding into me that instead of trying to push him away from my much too sensitive lower region, I opened my eyes in surprise as another orgasm took over me, somehow even stronger than the previous ones.

“Yeah, that’s it… Fuck. Come for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel your cunt milking my fucking cock.” His words did nothing to help ease my arousal, and just when my arms started to give out, I felt him spilling inside of me. “FUCK!” He shouted, following my body’s motions until he was covering me with his own torso, still very much inside of me.

His thrusts finally coming to a stop after he had slowly fucked his cum inside of me, I felt his thumbs caressing my hips as I remained face planted on my mattress. “Well, this isn’t how I expected this night to go, but I can’t say I’m not satisfied.”

A snort was all I could give him as he finally pulled out and allowed his body to fall by my side, giving me a quick kiss on the shoulder that was closer to him. “You ok?” He asked, and I snorted again.

“More than okay. You still haven’t eaten though.” It was the truth. After all of this… incredible distraction from my cooking plans, he still hadn’t gotten around to eat dinner. I heard him take a deep breath next to me as he pondered his answer.

“Really? ‘Cause I remember eating some very delicious pussy a few minutes ago.” It took me a few minutes to process what he had said, but when I did, I turned around to playfully hit his chest while feeling my face warm up from the reality of what we had just done.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re hot.” And when he put it in such simple terms, as he pulled me in his arms so that I could cuddle his chest, how could I feel embarrassed?

#tom hardy #smut #tom hardy smut #my fics #tom hardy reader #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fics #tom hardy one shot #tom hardy oneshots #tom hardy fic #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy y/n #tom hardy writing #tom hardy imagine

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

bands | sixteen

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 5.0k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, angst, anxiety, alcohol consumption, slight intoxication, physical abuse, slight verbal abuse, belittling, mentions of cuts/wounds but nothing too graphic, mentions of coke

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos @un2-verse @aynsx @wearenot7withu @knjeuphoria @bringitseijoh (closed!)

Jungkook laid on the dorm couch, legs sprawled out as he wore his hood and covered his face as much as possible. He shut his eyes, trying to make sense of the cryptic texts you had sent him.

"We shouldn't do this anymore."

"I can't do this, Jungkook."

"You don't deserve this."

"I'm only trouble."

"We aren't going to work."

He repeatedly called you, asking for an explanation, a way to help make things better because none of this should have been the reason for you to want to call it 'quits' like that. He asked for you to talk to him. He'd call and after two rings, it'd bring him straight to voicemail. It never failed. Indeed, there was much more to the text but he only fixated on a few lines, and those few lines seem to be circling his head time and time again with no sign of leaving him alone.

"I think I'm falling in too deep and I need to stop this while I can. You hear them, you hear the shit they say. I would never let them ruin you, I don't want them to. You deserve better. Maybe it's true that I don't fit into this."

It frustrates him, every single time. Where the hell did he go wrong? Why was there a sudden change? Something was off, and god forbid if his assumptions were right. But, everything was leading right back to it. The way you called in sick, the way you shut everyone out. The way you texted him these things, wouldn't pick up his calls just to tell him you're busy or whatever the hell it was. It didn't sound like you. It didn't seem like you at all.

All things led right back to the club. To Bigs. Where you felt high and mighty. Wanted. Like no one could ever hurt you the way they did outside of the club because they worshipped you in there. They knelt down to you. The way you were so fucking tough there. He knew this is where you would fall back if things got rough. He couldn't help but think that you had been forced into it though, because he knew you didn't give a shit about that anymore. Ah well, forced or not, it just felt so off. Unusual.

"Hey." Namjoon sits on the floor near Jungkook's head. "You good?" He asks even though he's fully aware he's not. Joon hates those people who ask if something's wrong when clearly, something is wrong — however, he wasn't really sure how else to open up this conversation without coming off too pushy or forward. Too insensitive, even.

"Nope."

"What's going on?" Jungkook sighs as he tries to lower his hood even more, although there's no more of his hood to lower. He keeps his hand on his face, trying his hardest to keep himself together.

"I don't know." Now, going back to earlier — everyone can tell Jungkook isn't happy. They've tried to butter him up and make him feel better even though they knew you were the only person who could truly make him happy again. They've tried to talk to him in one way or another, but they never forced him if he didn't want to. The only person that really hasn't said much was Jimin, and that also pisses him off because if he had anything to do with this, he will surely fuck him up for ruining his happiness.

"You hear from Y/N? She still sick? Does she need anything?"

"She's not sick."

"Hm?" Joon slightly turns back, confused.

"Something else is wrong."

"Like what?"

"She's not picking up my calls. Not answering my texts the way she normally does. When she does, it's super blunt or one worded."

"Maybe she's really not feeling well, or just caught up with things—"

"No, hyung. I know her, she always has her priorities straight. Even if she was sick, she wouldn't do this. She wouldn't go as far as to shutting her own brother out."

"Idol life too overwhelming? I get it." Jimin jokes as he walks into the kitchen, making Jungkook shoot his head up to glare at him.

"The fuck, can you not? I don't see why you feel the need to joke around right now."

"Jeez, sorry. I just thought I'd lighten up the mood somehow."

"Come on, dude." Namjoon looks at him with disappointment, Jimin only returning the gesture by rolling his eyes and walking away. "How can I help you?" Joon asks, returning his attention back to Jungkook.

"Maybe I was being selfish bringing her into all of this. These people— they're fucking mean, and she's already had her fair share of dealing with mean people. How am I supposed to protect her all while not feeling selfish about it?"

"You're not selfish, who told you that?"

"Jimin." That's like strike.. whatever to Namjoon at this point. Why the hell was Jimin being so fucking weird?

"Look, I know it's not easy in this industry. But I think what you can do is prove to her that you won't hurt her, especially with everyone around her doing nothing but hurting her. You need to show her that you're different from the rest of them, that she can fully trust you. If I were in her shoes, to be honest, it would be scary for me. You got a whole lot of shit going on in your life. You're expected to provide a lot, and on top of that, you haven't had the best reputation with women."

"Yeah, I hear you."

"Then, nothing else matters. You keep fighting for her if she really matters to you. Does she?"

"Of course she does, I mean, can't you tell? I've never been this way over someone." Joon nods.

"You sure as fuck haven't. It still catches me and the guys by surprise. But, I'm happy to see someone helping you become a better person. She's been nothing but genuinely sweet, and I know she already does a hell of a job taking care of you."

"She's— I don't know. She's become so important to me."

"I know she has, and I'm happy to hear that. I really am." Joon sighs. "So tell me, what can I do? I hate seeing you like this."

"Well, I'm sure as hell not allowed at the club. Bigs will do anything to get back at me for what I did to him. He won't hesitate."

"I won't let him. We won't. You really think she went back?" Jungkook nods.

"Positive. Something doesn't feel right. It feels weird. And I feel like she was egged into this. I don't like it one bit."

"Want me to go check out the club tonight?"

"Yeah, please?" Jungkook says. "But don't be too obvious. Bring Jin hyung or someone who could use a lap dance or two."

"Sooo Jin hyung?" They chuckle.

"Yeah, exactly."

"And if she's there?"

"Then I'm going straight to her tomorrow night. I just need to make sure I do this right because I don't want her or Kai to get hurt. I'll stay out there if I have to just to make sure she doesn't go back. What else do I have to do—" Jungkook pauses to stop himself because this clearly wasn't you. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Who the fuck made her do this?"

"Bigs, who else?"

"No, she wouldn't listen to just Bigs. He's definitely working with someone and using shit against her."

"Okay, let's just not assume the worst. I'll head there tonight and drag Jin hyung with me."

"Thanks hyung, I really appreciate it."

"No problem." Joon gently massages his shoulder before getting up from his spot to make his way back to his room.

All Jungkook can think about doing is sleeping more right now. He'll send the occasional text to check on Kai and see how he was doing, but they both worried too much about you and Jungkook would hate to tell him that you ended up going back to the club. He didn't think he would tell him, he didn't think he'd have to because he was gonna make sure to get you out of there before shit hit the roof again. If it hasn't already, and he's hoping it hasn't.

And so when Namjoon and Jin hyung [obviously in need of that lap dance or two] head out to the club, Jungkook stays in his dorm room, suddenly feeling the adrenaline rushing through his body even though he can't do shit besides sit here and wait. He goes through the random pictures he's taken of you - the cute, candid photos he had of you, the cute candid photo of you as his lock screen. He deletes all the texts in his inbox even though he knows it might have been a little late. It honestly hasn't mattered to him in such a long time, but he just never got around to wiping his inbox clean since he was so caught up with you - his baby.

"Is this going to turn into some kind of action movie? We bust through the doors, take down all the guards and steal Y/N?"

"No, hyung. Jesus. Do you forget you're an idol? That's probably the very last thing we should do."

"So, what do we do?"

"We just walk in there like we normally do?"

"Boring."

"Plus, we can't have Bigs onto us like that. We have to act like we don't know anything."

"Do you really think he's using something against her?"

"I don't know. I have to be honest though, I think Jimin's involved."

"W-what?" Jin says, furrowing his brows. "No, he can't be."

"Trust me. He always acts so weird around her, and he's probably the one person who hasn't taken this as seriously. He hasn't said anything to Jungkook."

"But why though?"

"I don't know, beats me. I just don't think he respects her. Or, likes her. Whatever it is."

"She hasn't done anything to him though."

"That makes it worse, doesn't it?"

"How could you be so sure?"

"Look hyung, I'm not. I just think he's involved. My gut says so. We'll find out whether I'm right or not, right?"

"I hope you aren't. That'll really mess Kookie up."

"Well. I love him, but he'll have to learn the hard way for butting into someone else's business like that. No matter what the reason is." Namjoon parks the car and fixes his rolled up sleeves before adjusting the Rolex on his wrist. He looks at Jin once more, nodding in approval once they both feel like they've fixed themselves enough to look presentable, not questionable.

Meanwhile, you had just finished up your time on stage so you headed to the back to take a break. Bigs hadn't given you the option to secure private bookings knowing damn well there would be opportunity for Jungkook and some of his boys to slip through and try to work their magic in private. As much as possible, you were just trying to protect Jungkook, even though you knew he wouldn't back down without a fight. You knew Bigs wasn't all that tough, but right now, he seemed to hold a lot of power with Jimin being on his team. And you knew damn well it was Jimin all along. Did you have concrete evidence? No. But your gut feeling might as well be enough with the way he talks to you. Why else would Bigs all of a sudden feel all mighty? Bigs had threatened Jungkook and your brother enough to keep your mouth shut. Enough to keep your attitude level at a 0.

The scene played in your head over and over again—

"I gave you a better life, you ungrateful piece of shit. You do as I say and your little Jungkook and your little Kai won't get hurt. You think I'm scared of them, sweetie? You think I'm scared of you? Your stepfather don't give a damn about you two. I can easily send my men down to do their magic, especially after how Jungkook treated me. Is that how he repays me after all the special treatment I've given him?" Mr. Bigs hunched over you. "You two wanna play me like a fool, I'll show you two what it's like to be played like a fool." He pulled on your hair before aggressively releasing and spitting to the side.

There was no way they would get dragged into this. Not anymore. They didn't deserve to be included in this no matter what it was.

Boy, did you miss Jungkook. Everything about him. It took everything in you not to come running back. It took everything in you not to answer those calls or texts like you normally would.

You chose him, every single time. You wish he knew that. Him and Kai.

You sighed, sipping on the flask you snuck in. The alcohol relieving you of any pain, helping you feel numb as the night goes on. You didn't want to feel tonight, you just didn't. Why would you, when everything had just been hurting you lately?

You had just finished dancing out on the main stage, throwing your ass back to some Megan and Cardi. A few other dancers were gathered at a vanity, sneakily sniffing lines of coke while Bigs and his men were busy paroling the main stage.

"You want some of this, sis? In celebration of you coming back?" One of the other dancers smirks at you. You simply shake your head no and return to the flask in your hand.

"I'm good, thank you."

"Alright, well it's here if you want it. Just let me know, babe." Her and the other dancers go back to their business on the vanity. However, another dancer continues to eye you, sympathy filling her expression as she approaches you while you sip on your flask once more. You were starting to feel pretty tipsy again, hoping you could just hide out in the back 'till the very end of your shift.

"Y/N." She says, her hand gently on your arm. "You okay?"

"I'm good." You purse your lips together to prevent yourself from tearing up. Those words were triggering for you because you were not okay, whatsoever.

"Why did you come back, babe?" She genuinely asks, worried about you. "Did Bigs do something?"

"No." You lied. "Things just didn't work out elsewhere I guess, and I need money."

"Didn't work out? I saw the way Jungkook handled Bigs that night." If anything, she was probably the one dancer who paid attention to the environment around her. Everyone else was oblivious to the shit that's been happening and that's because they didn't give a fuck about anyone else. Her stage name was Trixie, but her real name was Miki. She too didn't really enjoy being here but her parents talked so much about how she was useless and couldn't make it out in the world, especially as a vlogger. She loved it. She loved being in front of the camera and talking to the world thru the lens. But her parents thought it was dumb— that she was dumb for even wanting to grow a career online like that. Besides all of it, she remained sweet, and she was always super nice to you. You wouldn't be surprised if she knew about you and Jungkook, and you honestly wouldn't have a problem with it. She never treated you wrong. She knew Bigs had a tendency to overstep and abuse the power he had with his status and his money. However, she knew he was a big coward and that he was all talk, no play — especially if it was outside of the club. He may be a big honcho here, but outside, he had no chance. And she couldn't wait until the day he'd get his for all the mess he's caused.

"Yeah well, things happen." She shakes her head.

"Y/N, you can talk to me. Look, as much as I love seeing your face, you have so much potential. You don't deserve to be stuck here. Let me help you figure this out."

"I'm okay, Miki. Thank you, though." She nods, not wanting to press you any further.

"Well, I'm here for you." She gives your arm one good squeeze before walking off.

Eventually, the rest of the dancers retreat back out onto the floor, leaving you to hide away in the back room as long as possible — which is why Namjoon can't get a glimpse of you anywhere out in the main area. Bigs is actually a little taken aback to see both him and Jin walking through the club, even after everything that has gone down. But hey, business is business— and if they weren't gonna cause any trouble, so be it. He knows though, he knows full well there's a possibility they're here for you.

"Boys! Long time no see!" He greets them, Joon and Jin giving him a toothless smile in return. "How've you been? What brings you in?"

"Mr. Bigs." Namjoon says, smoothing down his shirt. "Ah, we're good, just getting busy prepping for the tour. Wanted to take a little breather tonight."

"Well, I'm glad you guys came here to do so. Can I get you two anything to drink?" The both of them shake their heads. "Anything to help relieve that stress?"

"We're good, thanks. Just gonna sit out on the floor for a bit."

"You two let me know if there's anything I can do for you, at all." Bigs smiles at them as he begins to watch them walk away. "Make sure she's covered." Bigs slightly turns his head to speak through the headset mic, alerting his men to keep an eye out. He thinks he's said it low enough so that Jin and Namjoon don't hear, but Jin catches the movement in his peripherals, causing him to pinch Joon's bicep.

"Back room." Jin says, subtly nodding towards the backroom as he keeps his gaze out on the main stage and adjusts his tie. Namjoon looks around to see Bigs has welcomed himself to the other side of the club, speaking to a few customers, looking distracted.

"I'm gonna go see if I can talk to her."

"Talk?! You said we were just scoping her out. Don't cause any trouble, Namjoon-ah. Please."

"Oh, now you suddenly don't want this action movie to come alive?! You sure were talking a whole lot about it in the car."

"Since when do you even take me seriously?!"

"I always take you seriously, hyung!"

"How about you just sneak towards the back door and get her attention? You said we can't go all out like that!"

"There's guards there too."

"Look, I just don't want you or Y/N to get hurt. Maybe we should just lay low and figure out how we can approach this better."

"Hey, can I get you two anything?" Miki interrupts, fully aware of who they are and what they're here for.

"No, sweetie. Thank you." Jin responds, flashing his 100-watt smile.

"You looking for Y/N?"

"Depends who's asking?" Namjoon says, trying to keep his guard up.

"Look, I'm not gonna rat you out if that's what you think." She puts her hand on her hip, tray still balancing on her free hand. "She's in the backroom. But there's no way you can get to her. Bigs is watching her for whatever reason."

"Yeah, we're aware. Can you send her a message for me?"

"Sure. You have 10 seconds though or else Bigs is gonna be onto you." She points towards Bigs slowly making his way back.

"Just tell her that Jungkook is worried about her and wants to help. Or, we want to help. We just wanna know what's going on."

"I'll try, but she didn't let up when I asked earlier."

"Thanks." Joon sighs.

"Shoo, I'll find you guys around." She says, sneakily walking off towards the bar with her empty tray as Bigs starts to eye the main floor. Jin and Namjoon welcome themselves to a seat on the side of the stage, acting normal as possible by throwing bills onto the stage for the dancers. Miki tends to her customers before she's setting her tray down and pretending to take a cigarette from her bra to take a quick "break." She heads to the back to see you still sitting at your vanity, head resting against the palm of your hand.

"Babe." You turn to look at her, eyes slightly glossed over.

"Hm?"

"RM and Jin are here. They said they want to help you, and if you can tell them anything, that's all they'd want."

"Miki—"

"Girl, look. Don't let this man keep running your life like this. I don't care what he said or did, this isn't you. You need to get out of here and you need to let people in. People who genuinely care about you." You sigh.

"How is that possible when Jungkook's own bestfriend doesn't even like me? And ontop of that, Bigs even dragged my little brother and my evil ass stepfather into this. I can't let anything happen to him, he's the only thing I have."

"I get that, and I'm sure Jungkook will do whatever it takes to protect you both. Why are RM and Jin here then? Whatever Jungkook's other friend's issue is, he needs to figure it out. It's obviously his own problem, something he created himself for no reason."

"I know he's helping Bigs keep me away from Jungkook. All the hurtful shit in the media, all the shit he's been tossing in my face. Whatever, I get it. He wins. I don't belong."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, and I know even if I chose Jungkook, he'd choose his bestfriend over me. Why would he go against that? They've been together for so long. I'm a fucking nobody." Miki knows this is all the alcohol running through your veins, but at least now, she knows Bigs isn't doing this on his own [as she assumed, he's a fucking pussy for the most part - he's a pussy who got handsy with the dancers cause that's all he can do to feed his ego].

"I don't think that's true, and I don't think it's a fair assumption when he's stayed by your side, hasn't he? He hasn't given up on you." She says before walking out. Really, things were just completely scrambled in your head. Just fucked up. Your questions, your uncertainty was strong enough to pull you towards the negative - the what if's, the assumptions, the rumors, the shit-talking. After all that, the positives were dim.

Miki grabs her tray and serves the first couple of customers in dire need of their drinks before she heads over to Jin and Namjoon to spill the information she received from that conversation.

"She won't budge. It sounds like a lot of this shit talking got to her head, so she came back to make herself feel better but then Bigs ended up turning this around on her, threatening Jungkook and her brother. If I were you, I'd get Jungkook to her before she can even come back here. Make sure her brother is with him too. Bigs is all talk but being the guys that you are — I wouldn't take any chances to ruin your reputation and all that." She smacks on her gum. "And I hate to tell you this, but one of your little friends has been working with Bigs. I don't know who, but you better let that little shit know he was wrong for getting in her head like that. She deserves way better." She says with a punch of attitude before walking away.

"Jimin?" Jin mouths out to Namjoon, who only shrugs in response.

"Let's go." Namjoon tosses a couple of more bills before they head out.

"Have a good evening, boys." Bigs yells out, causing the two of them to return a tight-lipped smile.

"Are we going to tell Kookie about Jimin?"

"No? Because we don't even know ourselves. His name was never dropped, and we'll look dumb if we acted on assumptions."

"This is so fucked up." Jin sighs, looking out the window.

"You're telling me."

When they finally arrive back at the dorm, Namjoon and Jin find Jungkook pacing around in his room, tossing a rubber ball against the wall to keep himself occupied. His doe eyes dart over to them, letting the ball drop to the floor while he nervously walks closer to them.

"So?"

"I'm sorry, dude." Joon sighed. "From what it sounds like, all this mess just got to her head so she went back to the club to make herself feel better. But Bigs ended up bringing you and her brother into the situation so, I'm assuming she's distancing herself to protect you in some way?" Namjoon runs his hand through his hair. "Honestly, I really don't know, that's as much as we got."

"We didn't even talk to her or see her, some other dancer helped us out. I guess she's a friend of hers? Or maybe she just likes Y/N. She wanted to help." Jin says.

"Fuck!" Jungkook groans, slamming his hand down onto his bed. "Why couldn't she just talk to me? We could have figured this out."

"Look, I'm sure there's a lot more to it and I'm sure it's difficult for her. Promise me you'll hear her out when you see her."

"I mean, yeah I know, I will. But, how did this get to her head so easily? I really can't wrap my head around it, I—" He catches how tense Joon and Jin suddenly get. He watches them nervously looking at each other, making him cock his head to the side and furrow his brows. "Wait, what is it? You know something else, don't you?"

"I mean there's really no concrete facts behind it so we can't necessarily say it's true."

"Well?" Jungkook asks, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles are turning white. But, before they could go any further, Jungkook's ringtone echos in the room. He quickly turns in case it's you calling, but he picks up anyway because it's someone equally as important.

"Kai?"

"C-can you come pick me up? My sister isn't picking up. I'll send you Eric's address." Jungkook worries when he hears the shakiness in his voice, his tone low to a whisper.

"Yeah, sit tight. I'll be right there." He hangs up, darting out of his room, Namjoon and Jin following after him.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to get to Kai."

"Let us come with!"

"Look, it'll be quicker if I go myself—"

"Jungkook-ah, stop. We're not gonna let you go alone." Joon and Jin make it just in time to join him in the elevator, heading straight for his car even if it's nearing 1am. Jungkook pulls up Kai's location, pressing on the gas to rush over there just in case Kai was hurt. And yes, Jungkook was going to give it to your fucking stepfather if he sees anything on Kai. He will fucking destroy him, he promises.

Jungkook, Namjoon and Jin walk into the house quietly, seeing Kai putting his finger up to his lips when he meets them near the kitchen.

"What happened?" Jungkook whispers, handing his bags over to Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook looks at the small hint of blood pooling near his nostrils and the cut near his eyebrow.

"I'll explain in the car, can you just take me to—"

"Really? Calling your sister's boyfriend and his friends over to save you? You really are a helpless little shit." Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook are all shielding each other and Kai from Eric, Jungkook's blood boiling seeing him standing there, clearly very drunk and not in the right state of mind.

"Aye, don't fucking talking to him like that." Jungkook's spits out, making Eric laugh.

"First you fall for my slut of a daughter, now you help rescue him? I thought you were so much better than that, Jungkook. You aren't the person people portrayed you to be. Shittiest idol I know. All of you."

"You don't know me." Eric snorts.

"You guys do know I help sponsor your shit right? I play a big role for you, don't come into my house acting like—" He slurs his words.

"Yeah, well fuck the contract." Namjoon's jaw clenches. "Better yet, don't fucking worry about it, I'll make sure to take care of it for you."

"You need me." Eric says, almost at a growl. "You need me and Bigs—"

"Since when?" Namjoon responds in a mocking manner as he begins to usher Jin, Jungkook and Kai towards the front door. "If you wanna send your people over, you can let them know I'm free tomorrow in the late afternoon. I'll be more than happy to tell 'em what kind of sick person you are."

"You can't just take him—" Eric tries to flip the script, obviously unaware that Kai has already turned 18. He grips onto Kai's arm and tries to pull him back, except he's intoxicated, so Jungkook easily pushes him off. He watches as Eric hits a bar stool, stumbling over himself before he drunkily falls on his ass.

"You're such a sad excuse of a stepfather, you aren't even aware he's 18 already. He doesn't need you." Jungkook scoffs. "I'm gonna send people for the rest of Kai's shit tomorrow. And let's get this straight - we never needed you or Bigs. You both aren't shit without us and yout fucking empire thrives because of us. And if you do anything to Y/N, if you even think about working with Bigs on doing anything to her, I fucking promise you I will bury you alive. I won't stop until you have nothing left. Don't underestimate me."

youtube

everybody's angry and they're coming for me, but i can't give them energy that i won't receive; so i brush 'em off, i got a lot on my sleeve, like i'm moving backwards, but it's all on repeat; this place is getting crowded, i got no room to breathe

track twelve: hundred - khalid

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joonie-beanie · 4 years

Text

Stress Relief

Pairing: Barbatos x Reader x Diavolo

Word Count: 10,061

Preview: The Royals have been bogged down with a busy workload, so you decided to help relieve some of their stress in whatever way you can.

Read as: Barbatos has a thing for rope bondage, and Diavolo is just happy to be involved.

This chapter is also being posted as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

Also! This is a follow-up to Bath Time, and Helping Hands, so if you haven’t read those, I would recommend doing that first!

For as long as you’ve known Barbatos, you’ve assumed that the butler is perfect in every sense of the word. He’s skilled, and handles his tasks without complaint, and in a timely manner. He addresses his duties with a kind smile—never wavering.

Despite his busy schedule, he never shows signs of cracking.

…until today.

You walk into RAD that fateful Friday morning, and discover Barbatos in the student council room—frowning. Now, seeing Barbatos frown is not entirely out of character. You’ve seen him frown in worry, and in concentration. He does have emotions, after all, but…today he just looks stressed.

There are dark circles under his eyes. The way he’s hurriedly searching through papers—a few slipping off the table and onto the floor—is a sign of his current out-of-character state.

Without second thought, you stride into the room and begin picking up the papers on the floor. Barbatos startles ever so slightly when he notices you at his feet—too absorbed in his current task to have heard you approach.

He sighs.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Are you okay?” you respond to his quiet, tired words. There’s genuine concern in your eyes as you press to your full height, and hand the small stack of papers back to him. “I’ve never seen you like this before…”

“It’s been quite a hectic week…or two,” he admits, exhaling in relief as he finally uncovers the report he’d been looking for. “Typically, like students, Lord Diavolo and I are able to rest on the weekends—only dealing with a few, small meetings here or there. But the last two weeks, every day is busy from dawn to dusk.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you say sincerely. You reach out and give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Barbatos smiles at the gesture. Then, in an uncharacteristic turn of events, he sets the paper in his hand back on the desk, and turns to fully face you. He envelops you in a tender hug—one of his hands wrapping around your waist while the other moves to cradle against the back of your head.

“You’ll have to forgive me for this sudden display of affection,” he mumbles, his breath tickling your ear as his cheek nuzzles against your hair. “I didn’t realize how much being unable to see you on Sunday would affect me during the week.”

His admission has your cheeks heating up ever so slightly, and you lift your arms—wrapping them tightly around his middle.

Due to Barbatos and Diavolo’s lack of free time, the two had been forced to cancel their tea time with you the previous weekend. You’d been disappointed, considering you’d gotten so used to ending your week in the company of the two, but there was nothing you could do about it. If they were busy, you’d have to suck it up.

“Will you be free this weekend?” you ask him, pulling back to look into his green eyes. He can see the concern, and longing in your gaze. Apparently, you’ve missed him and his Lord as well.

“I can work around your schedule, since I don’t have much to do. Of course, if you’re both too busy, I’ll understand, but—”

He cuts you off with a kiss to your forehead.

“I will double check the schedule and contact you later.” He reaches over and grabs the stack of papers—topped with the report he’d been looking for. As he takes the neat stack into his arms, he turns and flashes you one last smile.

“Thank you for the brief moment of peace. It is greatly appreciated.”

With that, he makes his way out of the student council room with the normal poise and grace he always exhibits. Once alone, you take a deep breath, and hold a hand to your cheek. It’s warm—painted with a light blush.

Really, it’s rare that Barbatos is the one to initiate a show of affection with you. Typically, you’re the one hugging him (although he always reciprocates).

The last time he had initiated skinship was weeks ago, after he’d paid you a visit at the House of Lamentation due to your ailing back.

Memories of that night attempt to push to the forefront of your mind, and you desperately try to shove them away. It’s the middle of the day—you don’t need to be thinking about Barbatos’ hands on your skin, or the way his fingers had felt inside of you…the way he’d looked while his dick was in your mouth…his cute post-orgasm face…

Shaking your head, you smack your red cheeks. You don’t need to be thinking about those types of things during school hours.

Yes, it’s been a few weeks since that fateful day with the royal butler, and you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t crossed your mind sexually every so often since then. However, you’d gotten bogged down with school work—any of your scarce free time going to the brothers—so despite your longing, and Barbatos’ offer of another massage if you wished, you hadn’t gotten a chance to ask.

Then, of course, once your schedule had opened up, Barbatos’ had narrowed. His duties piled up—filling his days with work—and you’d have felt far too guilty asking him for anything on top of his already busy schedule.

Aside from last Sunday, you’d still managed to maintain your weekly appointment of Sunday evening tea with the butler and Demon Prince, but bringing up sexual favors while sipping on Earl Grey and eating tiny sandwiches hardly seemed appropriate.

So, you’ve accepted that maybe it will be a while until you’re able to inquire about Barbatos’ services again. And while it’s a little disappointing, you don’t intend to push the matter. Barbatos already works so hard, and you don’t want to burden him with your sexual need.

Taking a deep breath, you grab the straps of your backpack, and nod to yourself. While you long for another massage experience from the royal butler, you can live without one. Right now, you just want his schedule to clear up, so you can resume your regular Sunday tea with him and Diavolo. And if that’s all you’re able to receive, at the moment, then you’ll still be satisfied.

Smiling, you finally step out of the student council room and make your way to your next class.

Hours later—as you’re heading back to your room following dinner with the brothers—you feel your DDD vibrate. Curious, you pull out the device and look at the notification lingering on the screen.

[New Text from Barbatos]

Your heart skips a beat—nervous to see the contents. There’s a big possibility that the royals are still busy this weekend, and that they won’t be able to squeeze you in anywhere.

You take a moment to calm yourself before clicking into the message.

Barbatos: I apologize for my late follow-up. It seems that Lord Diavolo and I will not be available for our normal Sunday Tea time again.

Barbatos: However, I am free starting at 7pm on Saturday evening, if you would like to come over. Lord Diavolo will be tied up with a meeting until a bit later, but he expressed interest in joining should the meeting adjourn at an acceptable hour.

Barbatos: I understand if you already have plans, but please let me know if I should expect you.

You’d already promised to have a self-care night with Asmo on Saturday, but honestly—you’re sure that he’ll understand.

You: That works just fine for me! I will be over at 7 tomorrow.

Barbatos responds with a happy sticker, and you find yourself smiling. You can’t wait to see them.

The hours tick by slower than you think possible the following day as you wait for evening to come.

Due to the addition into your schedule, you and Asmo change your self-care night to a self-care afternoon. Thankfully, Gossiping with the Avatar of Lust--while doing face masks, and sipping on mimosas--definitely helps to pass the time quicker.

The two of you finish up just before dinner, and head down to the dining hall together. You eat merrily with the 7 brothers—making conversation, and listening to their banter. By the time the table is cleared, and everyone’s bellies are full of food, it’s already nearing 6:30.

Hurrying back to your room, you make sure you look presentable. You mess with your hair—trading your shorts and tank top for a knee-length sundress. Not only has the Devildom been heating up lately, but you always try to dress a bit nicer in front of the royals. So, a sundress should be perfect for the occasion.

Throwing your DDD into a small purse Satan had gifted you some time ago, you sling the bag over your shoulder and make your way from your room. You run into Lucifer by the front door, and he surveys you with a knowing look.

“You’re headed to the Demon Lord’s Castle, correct? I’ll walk you part way. I’m leaving to meet someone in town.”

“Thanks,” you smile, stepping through the front door when he holds it open for you. The two of you then start away from the House of Lamentation, comfortably at each other’s sides.

“How did you know that I’m heading to the Castle?” you ask him as you walk. You don’t recall sharing your plans for the night with any of the brothers. Even when you’d changed the time of your plans with Asmo, and he had inquired, you’d just said that something had come up. (He had begrudgingly accepted that response—too curious for his own good).

“I had a meeting with Barbatos and Diavolo this morning,” he tells you, eyes ahead as he guides you through the crowded streets. “Diavolo was whining about how he hopes his meeting with the planning committee tonight won’t drag on too long, so he can join you and Barbatos before it’s time for you to leave.”

“I mean…how late can the meeting possibly drag?” you question, blinking innocently. There’s no way a meeting will last beyond…10…11pm, right?

“Depending on the matters that need to be discussed, I’ve witnessed the meeting last until 2 in the morning,” he informs you with a shake of his head. “Diavolo hates speaking with the committee more than anything, so I hope he’ll be able to wrap things up in a timely manner.”

“That would be nice,” you say honestly. “It seems like they’ve both been running rampant... Speaking of, how is your workload?”

You grin up at him, a knowing look in your eyes. Lucifer sighs, smoothing a hand through his dark hair.

“My time to sleep is limited, but for once, it seems that I’m not fairing the worst among the three of us. I hope your visit with Barbatos and Diavolo will help them relax a little.”

“I don’t know if I have that type of power, but I hope so too,” you laugh, pausing when Lucifer places his hand atop your hair. He regards you fondly—the two of you standing in the middle of the city street.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he says, and then steps away. “This is where I leave you. I believe you know the rest of the way, yes?”

You nod, and he raises a hand—bidding you farewell.

“Don’t stay too late. If you need an escort home, text the group chat and one of us will come get you.”

“Will do, Lucifer~,” you drawl, tempted to roll your eyes. They’re always so overprotective of you—it’s not like you always need an escort.

Lucifer flashes you the slightest of glares—lips tugging into a smirk—before he turns and disappears up a side street. Now on your own, you continue up the wide road—taking the familiar path to the castle. You arrive a few minutes later, and when you knock on the grand front door, it only takes a few seconds for Barbatos to pull it open.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he says, eyes creasing pleasantly as he smiles. You can see the exhaustion beginning to settle into the small lines of his face.

“Of course. I was looking forward to seeing you,” you respond honestly. As he guides you into the castle, you can hear the chatter of distant voices, and assume that Diavolo’s meeting with the committee must have already started.

“Would you mind accompanying me to the kitchen? I’m afraid I haven’t had the chance to prepare the tea yet.”

“No worries!” you say immediately, flashing him a reassuring smile. “I’ll help out if I can, too!”

Barbatos chuckles. “I’d appreciate that.”

Engulfed in a comfortable silence, the two of you make your way to the kitchen. Once there, Barbatos pulls out a kettle, and then moves to fetch the tea. However, when he pulls open the wooden cupboard, he pauses.

Curious, you step up behind him, peeking over his shoulder.

The cupboard is entirely empty.

Barbatos places his gloved palms on the counter, his head hanging in defeat, and an annoyed sigh leaving his lips. You stare at him, shocked to see the crack in his professional demeanor.

“The other servants must have grabbed the last of it to serve the guests at the meeting…”

“It’s okay, Barb!!” You say immediately, jumping back and throwing your arms into the air. “We don’t need tea!! It’s not Sunday anyway!”

The butler turns to look at you, and can’t help but laugh at your dorky position.

“I suppose you’re right,” he admits, raising a hand to cover his face as he releases a few more chuckles. Your cheeks heat up a little, realizing you must look silly, and you drop your arms.

“Besides, I don’t want you to feel obligated to serve me while I’m here! This is supposed to be a break for you, since you’ve been so busy!”

“But if we’re not having tea, then what shall we do?” he questions, tilting his head to the side innocently. You blink, lifting a hand to your chin as you ponder the thought.

“Well…is there anything I can do to help you relax?” you smile at him kindly as you speak. “You’ve been working hard, so if there’s anything I can do to ease some of the stress off your shoulders, I’d love to help.”

Barbatos regards you curiously at the offer—like there’s an idea that immediately comes to mind, but he’s not sure if he wants to say it. You assume that perhaps he’ll ask you to help with a chore, or will ask for something like a foot rub. Oh! Or maybe to play a board game.

Instead, he ends up flashing you a small smile. He extends his hand, holding it out to you, and you take it without a second thought. Fingers slotting through your own, he then tugs you from the kitchen and back into the hall—leading you somewhere else.

“There is a hobby I have that helps me to relieve stress. It’s a bit…unorthodox, so if you’re not comfortable with it, then—”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Barb!” you interrupt him, a pout on your lips. “I want to help you unwind, so whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it.”

He gives your hand a squeeze, an amused look in his eyes. He doesn’t bother with a rebuttal—simply letting you think what you wish.

Silently, he guides you through the long halls. At some point, you pass the entrance to the magnificent bathroom you’d once discovered Diavolo bathing in. Your experience with the aphrodisiac, and Diavolo helping you out on that night feels like a fever dream. The thought of his stupidly large cock, and his hands on your body has you getting warm all over, and you shake your head to try and rid yourself of the sinful imagery.

The event had happened months ago, at this point. Since then, you and Diavolo have never spoken on it, and you wonder if he regrets his actions—feeling like perhaps he had overstepped his boundaries with a guest in the heat of the moment.

However, considering he acts friendly and kind to you as always—still offering hugs, and other simple shows of affections—you haven’t bothered confronting him about it. As long as the two of you are on good terms, that’s what matters to you. (Even if you have occasionally fantasized about fitting his cock inside you since then).

“Are you thinking of Lord Diavolo?” Barbatos’ voice drags you out of your thoughts, a knowing look in his eyes as he regards you. You blush, embarrassed at having been read so easily.

“I…I just…I wonder, sometimes, if he solely helped me out of a sense of obligation, or if he enjoyed it as much as I did,” you admit quietly. Barbatos gives your hand a comforting squeeze. “We’ve never talked about what happened, so…Agh, I’m sorry—is it weird that I’m talking about this with you? I don’t—”

“It’s not strange, Y/N,” he interrupts you with a shake of his head. “Lord Diavolo and I are quite close. Not to mention, I was there the night you were affected by the bath, remember?”

In that moment, you suddenly recall that yes—Barbatos had been there to see you in all of your needy glory—and you heat up more. If he notices, he chooses not to comment.

“While Lord Diavolo may have acted as he did to stop the effects of the aphrodisiac, I assure you he received just as much enjoyment out of your predicament as you did.”

Curious to the meaning of his words, you furrow your brow and stare at him. Barbatos just smiles—giving nothing away. Not until you start angrily pouting, at least. Then, he loosens his lips with a quiet sigh.

“I went to check on My Lord after I saw you return to your room, and when I approached his chambers, I could tell he was…preoccupied with the affliction you had given him.”

Meaning, he had overhead Diavolo jacking off to the thought of you after he’d left you alone in the bathing area to clean yourself up.

Ah.

“Okay, can we stop talking about this before I combust, and die?” you ask, a hint of a whine slipping into your tone. You tug your hand from Barb’s grip to cover your blushing face. He chuckles.

“For someone so lewd, you certainly do get embarrassed easily by your own actions.”

“I’m gonna request that you STOP calling me out like this, thanks,” you shoot back, glaring at him through spread fingers. He breathes a laugh, and you pause in your stride as he suddenly stops in front of a closed door.

Looking around, you realize that you’ve never been to this part of the castle before.

Twisting the handle to the door, Barbatos pushes it open and then ushers you inside. You regard the sizable room curiously.

It looks similar to any other lounge in the castle. The walls are lined with bookshelves and paintings. There are four couches—all placed in large square formation around where a coffee table would typically be. However, there is no coffee table.

Instead, about 8 feet from the ground, there’s a long, thick strip of bamboo. The bamboo is held up by tan colored rope—thick, professional knots secured to either end of the wood, and leading back up to hooks on the ceiling.

In fact, when you look closer. You can see that there are hooks mounted to the ceiling in multiple areas around the room. Not to mention the dozen spirals of rope hanging off hooks near the fireplace.

You swallow the saliva that has pooled in your mouth.

“You…use rope bondage to relieve stress?”

“Oh? You’re familiar with it?” he questions, stepping across the threshold of the room. He reaches up to grab one of the perfectly kept bundles of rope—trailing his fingers across the soft, red fibers.

You hold your arms shyly in front of you. This is a turn of events which you hadn’t been expecting tonight.

“I’ve always found it to be interesting, and beautiful, in a way,” you admit, purposely leaving out how you find it entirely too arousing as well. Just the thought of Barbatos tying you up has wetness already beginning to gather between your thighs. But, you don’t want to make it awkward—fearing that perhaps Barb doesn’t get any sexual gratification from the activity—so you stay silent about how much it turns you on.

“So, you wouldn’t be opposed to helping me relieve some of my stress, if this is what is involved?”

Your gaze shifts from the handsome butler, to the rope in his grasp, to the bamboo anchor in the center of the room. You wet your lips, and then smile at him.

“Of course. I’d be more than happy to.”

At your words, Barbatos steps forward—stalking over to where you’re standing just within the ring of couches. His mossy eyes regard you softly. You feel your heart hammering away within your ribs.

“Do you promise you’re saying that sincerely? I don’t want to hurt you, nor push you beyond what you’re comfortable with.”

“I know, Barb,” you tell him softly. You reach your hand out—fingertips skimming over slightly rough fibers of the rope. You’re sure you’ll feel a slight bite when he ties you up, but the thought only serves to heighten your arousal. “I wouldn’t agree if I didn’t want to help. And I trust you. Please don’t worry—this is what I want.”

A pleased look settling on his face, he leans down and presses the briefest of kisses to your forehead.

“I’m glad to hear so.”

Taking a step back, the butler regards you contemplatively.

“I would hate to ruin your dress. And it’s easier to tie with less clothing in the way. Would you mind removing it?”

Your face heats up at the request, but you nod—moving to slip the straps off your shoulders. After all, he’d massaged you all those weeks ago. It’s not like seeing your body is anything new to him.

“Just the dress?”

It’s an innocent question. You want to make his job as easy as possible.

“You—”

“Hey, isn’t this basically just more work for you?” you interrupt him as you shimmy your dress down your torso to the swell of your hips. He chuckles, gaze flitting down to look at your sheer-lace bra. The black color matches your underwear—although the panties aren’t lace, nor see through. (You hadn’t accidentally wanted to flash a demon (or at least, reveal too much) in town if the wind decided to flip your dress up on your journey over).

“It does take effort on my part, but I don’t consider it to be “work”,” he tells you. “And yes, just your dress is fine. Your undergarments won’t get in the way.”

“Okay,” you nod, voice soft. You finish stepping out of your dress—discarding it onto one of the nearby couches. Barb looks over your form appreciatively, and you seriously wish you could learn how to control your blushes.

“It’s important that you stretch, first. I don’t want you hurting your back again.”

“What? Not interested in giving me any more massages?” you tease, eyes sparkling at him. He breathes a laugh.

“I never said that.”

As you bend over—touching your toes, and stretching out your tight muscles, Barbatos moves across the room to grab more spools of rope. The entire time, his gaze lingers on you—taking note of your level of flexibility.

He’s pleasantly surprised by what he sees. The cogs in his brain start turning as he silently debates which position he should tie you in.

After a few minutes of stretching, it seems that Barbatos is finally satisfied to begin.

“This may take some time to tie. If you’re ever uncomfortable, or the rope feels too tight—please let me know.”

“I will, Barb.”

With that, the demon butler is quick to get to work. He instructs you to lift your arms, and you do so obediently—watching him as he wraps the rope around your torso, just beneath your bust. He stops every so often to check the firmness of his ties—making sure that he can slip a finger between the rope and your skin. He wants it to be loose enough that it won’t impede your blood flow, but tight enough that you’ll stay bound once he attempts to suspend you.

Before long, Barbatos has dressed you with a chess harness—your clothed tits pressing against the lacy fabric of your bra as the ties above, below, and between your breasts squeeze your mounds and push them outwards.

Satisfied with his work, he nods his head and takes a step away.

“Could you please sit on the floor, and spread your legs?”

His request reminds you of the growing pool of arousal in your nether region, but you comply nonetheless.

Sitting on the hardwood floor, you drop your arms to your sides and spread your legs. As you do so, the butler walks over to the fireplace. Just above the mantle is a hook—a strand of rope securely weaved around it. As Barbatos works on loosening the thick, hemp rope, you trace it’s path across the ceiling, and realize it’s the rope currently controlling the height of the bamboo anchor above you.

As the demon unfurls the rope from around the hook, the solid strip of bamboo moves closer to the ground. Soon, it’s only a few feet from the floor.

Satisfied with its new height—at least for the time being—Barbatos loosely wraps the rope back around the hook and then returns to your side. He kneels behind you, and you gasp when his fingers tug at the knot of rope between your shoulder blades.

“Too tight?” he questions, reaching to snag another bundle of red rope from the couch. You shake your head.

“Nope, just right.”

He hums considerately at your comment, sounding a little amused.

You remain silent as he drags more rope against your back—threading it through the bulk of your chest harness. Each pass of the soft fabric has goosebumps rising on your skin, and your gaze glances down between your still spread legs.

Hopefully since your panties are black, he won’t be able to see the wet spot that has formed…

You breathe shakily when Barbatos hefts the rope over the bamboo bar—giving it a tug. You feel the chest harness hug your tits ever tighter at the action, and you bite your lip to hold back from groaning. Honestly, if he touched your clit right now, you’re sure he could bring you to climax with little effort…

However, since you’re still attempting to be considerate of the fact that this is his stress relief, you don’t say anything. You remain carefully silent as he secures you to the anchor via the chest harness—an additional length of rope winding around your waist. He ties it to the bamboo as well—hoping to take some of the pressure off of your chest, seeing as he doesn’t want to bruise your ribs.

Once that’s taken care of, he moves in front of you. There are two more lengths of rope in his grasp.

For the first time in a while, Barbatos takes a moment to regard you. He’s been so caught up in his work, that aside from little inquiries as to your comfort, he hasn’t gotten a chance to really check in on you.

What he finds before him is a little startling.

Your cheeks are painted red—eyes blown wide, and lips slightly swollen from how much you’ve been biting them in order to try and control your reactions. As his gaze rakes down, glossing over your chest, he notes that your breathing is quick--your nipples taut against the thin cups of your bra. A tell-tale sign of your arousal.

A handsome grin tugs at his lips.

Reaching down, he squeezes the meat of your inner thigh with one hand, stretching your leg open wider. He lifts his other hand to his mouth—effortlessly tugging the white glove off with his teeth—before he’s dragging two of his digits gently up the crotch of your panties.

“My, I guess I shouldn’t have worried about being selfish with my request,” he chuckles. You pout at him angrily, eyes glancing away.

“Don’t tease me…I was trying to be polite…”

The pout on your lips fades away the moment his naked palm cups your cheek. Gently, he guides you to look at him—his face just inches from yours.

“I apologize for teasing,” he says. “I’m pleased to know you’re enjoying yourself beyond what I expected.”

To emphasize his words, he leans in and presses a tender kiss to your lips. Immediately you’re moaning, hands reaching forward to fist in his shirt—keeping him close to you. Your mouths slot together—slow, languid kisses being exchanged between you.

“Would you like to continue?” he eventually mumbles, and when your eyelashes flutter open, you find him staring at you—a heat in his gaze that hadn’t been present before.

“Yes, please.”

Sitting back, Barbatos tugs off his other glove and immediately resumes his work.

He starts at your ankles—wrapping the rope around you a few times, before tossing it over the bamboo--this time on the outside of the sturdy hemp, which is keeping the light-weight wood anchored to the ceiling. He repeats the action on your other leg, mirroring his previous actions, and then moves to make a tie just above your knee with a new spool.

This time, there’s an additional command.

“Lift your arms up.”

You do so, watching him with bated breath as he once again threads the rope across the slab of wood above you. This time, however, he pulls the rope tight—hiking your leg as high as it will go in combination with the ankle ties keeping your legs spread wide.

Once the rope is taut, he ties it around your wrists—letting you keep your arms bent. Your hand instinctively moves to hold onto the rope once the knot is finished, and you give it an experimental tug downward. The additional tension causes your legs to part even more—revealing all you have to offer.

“Are you, ah, fond of having girls spread wide like this for you?” you ask, a little breathless as you watch him grab one final coil of the rope. This time he moves to secure it around your upper thighs, right near your pelvis. He threads it beneath the rope around your waist—tugging it tight, and truly making sure your legs are spread as much as possible. You actually start to feel a dull strain as he makes the final tie—mirroring it on your other leg, per usual.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he responds, smiling as he pulls on the rope in a few places—making small adjustments to the tension in certain ties in order to ensure that your weight will be evenly distributed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do this, and I can confidently say that you’re making it far more entertaining than I expected.”

“Well, you’re welcome for that.”

Chuckling, he presses to his feet and moves past you. The butler makes his way to the fireplace, once more taking hold of the rope tied above it.

“I’m going to suspend you now,” he informs you, and your pussy clenches at his words. “If you feel pain, tell me and we will stop immediately.”

“Okay,” you breathe, licking your lips. In the next moment, you feel the rope around you dig into your skin ever so slightly—your ass inching off of the ground as Barbatos effortlessly moves the bamboo anchor higher into the air.

Within seconds—you're fully suspended, your body about 3 feet from the floor. The rope bites at your flesh, but not painfully. Just enough to remind you that you’re tied up, in the air, and at Barbatos’ mercy.

Since you don’t express any discontent, Barbatos re-secures the rope around the hook, and then makes his way to the center of the room. He takes his time walking around you—surveying his work. His fingers trail across your sensitive skin, making you gasp. Your legs jump against the bindings in reaction to his touches, but your limbs barely move--his skillful ties keeping you obediently held in the position he has chosen for you.

“Barb…,” you whine, not knowing how much more of this you can take. You’ve been horny since the moment you’d stepped foot into the room, and you’re sure at least an hour has passed since he began tying you—if not more. Your panties are practically soaked. You need some type of relief, and soon, or you honestly think you’ll explode.

Barbatos steps in front of you, two fingers hooking beneath your chin and angling your head up to look at him. He smiles.

“Is there a problem?”

There’s a mirthful glint in his eye. It’s clear he’s feeling more playful now that he’s in his element.

“I…please touch me.”

“I thought earlier you expressed worry in me doing “extra work”? It certainly sounds like you’re asking me to exert myself with that request.”

“Barb, please,” you whine, struggling against the rope as you attempt to lean up and kiss him. There’s no way he can deny you after all of this—not when you’re in such a state. “Please. I need you.”

Your begging sounds like music to his ears, and he gives in a little—leaning down to kiss you. You melt into the sensation.

“How would you like me to touch you, Y/N?”

“I…I want your cock, this time,” you say honestly, mumbling the words embarrassedly against him. You feel bad asking. After your previous escapade, you’d gotten the feeling that Barbatos was more comfortable in pleasing others, rather than focusing on himself. After all, despite having gotten hard, he had never asked to have sex with you. He’d been content with getting you off on his fingers, and likely would have let himself remain hard without solace if you hadn’t offered to help him in return.

Barbatos pauses at your request.

“It’s okay, if you’re not comfortable,” you quickly say, understanding painted in your eyes as you regard him. “I just…have been thinking about the possibility of having you inside of me, since last time, so—”

“If I am what you want, then I shall give you what you ask,” he interrupts, leaning in to steal another tender kiss. A quiet moan escapes you.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be offering otherwise.”

He cups your cheeks, peppering you with kisses, and then steps back. You watch him with rapt attention as he fiddles with his belt—working to free his cock from it’s confines. You hadn’t noticed before, but he’s already hard—straining against the zipper of his slacks.

Luckily, he’s skilled with his hands. It only takes a few seconds until his length is free—his slacks and the boxer briefs beneath them resting just below his pelvis.

“We should have taken these off, if you desired this outcome,” he comments, finger looping beneath the crotch of your panties. You pout at him, but don’t bother retorting. Right now, the only thing on your mind is Barbatos putting his cock inside of you and fucking you until you cum.

Noting your hungry stare, Barbatos doesn’t bother asking permission before he moves your panties to the side, revealing your slick womanhood. Grasping his length, he guides the tip of his cock between your folds—wetting himself with your arousal. When he catches your clit, you openly moan—body flexing against the ropes holding you in place.

Barbatos can’t help but smile.

“Always so needy.”

You open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a heated groan—the demon butler sheathing himself into your heat without warning. Your sopping walls allow him to glide in easily, and the sudden stretch has your eyes rolling back.

“Fuck, Barb,” you breathe his name, fixing him with the most pitiful face you can manage. You need him to move—now.

He’s more than happy to comply.

Barbatos rocks his hips back and forth gently, fucking in and out of you with care as he assures that you’re okay for him to move despite the abrupt intrusion. He feels your walls clench around him—seeking more—and he takes a deep breath at the sensation. You feel so good.

Gripping your waist, he thrusts into you with fervor. His speed increases, a blush dusting his cheeks as his gaze shifts between your blissful face, and your greedy pussy. In all his years, he’s never seen someone take his cock so beautifully.

Quick pants slipping past your lips, you instinctively tug at the rope wrapped around your wrists—accidentally spreading your legs wider as he fucks you. You can feel the strain on your thigh muscles, but right now, it’s the least of your worries. You’re too preoccupied with the way Barbatos’ cock is dragging inside of you—hitting you in all the right places.

“Please touch my clit,” you gasp, sensing your impending orgasm. You feel bad, being so close already, but you can’t help it. Barbatos’ cock throbs as he realizes how quickly you’re coming unraveled thanks to him. At this rate, he won’t last very long either.

Always happy to serve, the butler removes one hand from your waist and presses his thumb into your clit. The swift, side to side motion against the sensitive bundle of nerves has you choking on a moan—your head lolling backwards.

“Oh fuck,” you bite, the muscles in your torso tensing. Barbatos can feel your pussy tightening around him, and he clenches his jaw. Keeping his rhythm, it’s only another minute until you’re crying out his name—body spasming against the bindings as you reach the apex of your pleasure. Your pussy milks around his cock, constricting so tightly that a curse actually falls from the demon’s lips.

With a strained groan, he pulls himself from inside of you—his seed spurting against your used pussy, with a few stray droplets painting your thighs.

You’re just about to whine at the sudden loss of him when the door to the room creaks open. Immediately, you’re ejected from the bliss of your orgasm—heart hammering against your ribs and eyes flying open as you turn to see who has discovered you and Barbatos in such a compromising state.

“I actually managed to get the committee to end the meeting early, and went in search of the two of you,” the Demon Prince himself speaks, stepping inside. “When I discovered our typical spot empty, and then noticed the lack of tea in the kitchen cupboards, I thought I’d better check here. Seems I was right to.”

Diavolo chuckles as the door clicks closed behind him. He reaches up to loosen his tie, his infamous red coat nowhere to be found.

“My Lord,” Barbatos speaks, bowing. You glance down and notice that the butler has already tucked himself back into his pants—looking perfect as usual. The only hint of his recently experienced bliss is a few stray hairs sticking to his forehead, and a dust of blush on his cheeks.

Oh, and the cum that’s leaking down your skin.

The Demon Prince smiles pleasantly at his butler before his heavy golden gaze shifts to you. Instantly, you’re feeling warm all over—embarrassed beyond belief to be seen by Diavolo in such a lewd state.

Your little fling in the bath with him is one thing, but being hoisted mid-air, legs spread wide, with nowhere to hide yourself is another.

“Diav—”

“Impeccable work, as always, Barbatos,” Diavolo interrupts you. He steps into the center of the room, reaching forward to grip the strands of rope parting your breasts. He gives the harness an appreciative tug, eliciting a gasp from you. His eyes sparkle at the sound.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

“I see you were a little zealous today,” he continues, eyes falling to your used pussy. Your breath catches—gaze widening in surprise as Diavolo drags his finger through a stripe of Barbatos’ cum. Behind the Prince, the butler dips his head.

“Y/N requested it of me. I would be a fool to have said no.”

“Indeed,” Diavolo chuckles, his attention never leaving you. His large hands roam across your legs—skimming over the rope where it digs into the soft flesh of your thighs. There’s an appreciative glint in his gaze as he surveys your body—beautiful and helpless thanks to Barbatos’ rope work.

“You know, Y/N,” he begins after a minute, his fingertips trailing up the length of your arms, and making you shiver. He leans down to your eye level, smiling at you handsomely. “I was a little worried, following the incident with the aphrodisiac, that perhaps I had overstepped my boundaries. However, following recent events, I’m wondering if it’s not that a line was crossed, but perhaps that it’s me you’re not interested in.”

You shift your gaze to Barbatos, wondering if he had told Diavolo the outcome of the massage he’d given you a few weeks prior, but his face reveals nothing. He’s back to being the perfect butler in the presence of his Lord.

“Lord Diavolo, t-that’s—,” you swallow the lump in your throat, arousal flaring in your gut when Diavolo presses a finger beneath your chin, turning your attention back to him. “That’s not it at all. I promise.”

He cocks a curious eyebrow, waiting for you to explain. You take a shaky breath, muscles flexing beneath the bindings as your post-orgasm high begins to fade, making the bite of the rope more obvious.

“I…have wanted you—to have you, ever since that night. I just…didn’t have the guts to inquire about the possibility…I was hoping maybe you would approach me instead, and when it didn’t happen, I assumed the window of opportunity had closed.”

“Oh, Y/N,” he moves his hands to cup your cheeks, gently skimming his thumb across the warm flesh. “You are more than welcome to ask anything of me.”

“I want you, then. Now,” you breath, a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your belly as you stare at him. Your words have his golden eyes darkening with hunger.

The months worth of unspoken desire fills the space between your bodies--igniting a flame in Diavolo’s blood.

“Say it again,” he commands. You strain against the bindings, wishing you could touch him.

“I want you, Lord Diavolo. Please fuck me.”

In the next beat, Diavolo is on your lips. He licks into your mouth, swallowing all of your needy little whines and moans. One of his hands moves to tangle in your hair—trapping your lips against his own—while the other finds purchase on your breast.

He slips a finger beneath the lace cup, and tugs it down without hesitation—freeing the previously covered mound. You gasp around his tongue, thighs flexing. You can feel arousal beginning to dribble down your cunt, pussy once again aching to be used and filled.

“Barbatos,” Diavolo rumbles, finally pulling back to give you air. The butler appears at the edge of your vision as you struggle to breathe. He places a hand over his heart.

“Adjust the height of the suspension, and then come here. It’s not fair of me to make you watch. Come and join.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Barbatos disappears from your field of vision, and a few moments later, you squirm as you feel yourself being hoisted higher into the air. The sensation stops when your pussy is at the same height as Diavolo’s growing bulge.

“I can’t be mad at the two of you for enjoying yourselves without me, when it acts as such good preparation,” Diavolo chuckles, two of his fingers slipping between your glistening folds. They push into your heat with little resistance, so the Prince adds a third. You feel a stretch, but it’s far from painful—a quiet moan sneaking past your lips.

He watches you with arousal swimming in his golden irises.

Leaning in to lap against the unmarred skin of your neck, Diavolo pumps his fingers in and out of you. Wet sounds fill the room along with your breathy whines, and the minute Barbatos steps up behind you—moving his hands to fondle your breasts—you let go of any remaining decency.

You throw your head back, body shaking as the two pleasure you. Groans fall from your lips, hips bucking against Diavolo’s hand. You crave him, desperate to feel your pussy stretched around his monstrous cock.

“Please,” you beg, barely able to get the word out. Diavolo shushes you with a hot breath against your neck—canines nipping at your flesh.

“Be patient,” he tells you. “One more.”

He momentarily removes his fingers from inside you before pushing back in—a fourth joining the others this time. The sensation steals your breath away—body thrashing against the bindings. You’re so stupidly horny that you don’t even care if it hurts. You need Diavolo inside of you.

“You must trust Lord Diavolo, Y/N,” Barbatos pipes up. You can feel his breath on your ear—his mouth moving to rest on the side of your neck that Diavolo isn’t currently assaulting with his lips, teeth and tongue. To accentuate his words, he rolls your hardened nipples between his fingers. Your pussy clenches around the Demon Prince’s digits.

“He’s only doing this so not to hurt you.”

“I know, but—,” Diavolo cuts off your whining with a rough bite against the junction of your shoulder. You gasp at the pain, writhing, and once more he’s rewarded with your pussy gripping his fingers so deliciously. The Demon Prince’s cock throbs at the sensation, craving to be inside of you, but he knows he can’t take you as easily as others might. The last thing he wants is to break you.

…as fun as that idea may be.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises you, tongue lapping over the indentation of his teeth. A bit of blood pools in the shallow divots—the tangy red liquid making him groan deep within his chest. He pumps his fingers in and out of you for what feels like ages, continuing until there’s no resistance.

Then, finally, his digits leave you with an embarrassing squelch. You mourn the loss with a needy whine, eyes peeling open to stare at him. However, when you see Diavolo messing with his slacks—his cock springing free and standing tall against his abdomen just as you had remembered it—your protest ceases.

Instead, you’re left swallowing the saliva that pools in your mouth—cunt throbbing as Diavolo presses himself back between your legs. Barbatos is by no means small with regard to dick size, but Diavolo makes taking the butler seem like child’s play.

“Remember to breathe,” The Prince tells you, tracing his length between your folds. The head of his cock pushes against your entrance, and despite his warning, you feel your breath catch. Even four fingers are barely enough to prepare you to take him.

“Breathe,” Barbatos whispers against your neck, his hands moving to settle just beneath your breasts. He gives you a reassuring squeeze, and you finally suck in a shaky breath of air. Diavolo allows you a moment to ground yourself before he moves once more—managing to fully slide the head of his dick in, along with a few inches of shaft.

You see stars.

“Fuck!” your entire body shakes, pain and arousal mingling in a dangerous combination. Your chest heaves, knuckles turning white with how tightly you’re gripping the rope binding your wrists. And yet, you can’t take your eyes off the sight of Diavolo’s cock, and the way it disappears inside of you. You don’t dare look away.

Hands gripping your waist, Diavolo takes a deep breath in through his nose, and then cants his hips forward. The rest of his length stuffs inside of you—stomach bulging ever so slightly from his girth—and your mind goes white.

Hot tears stream down your cheeks.

For a frightening second, Diavolo worries that he has injured you.

“Y/N—”

“Please please please please move!” you cry, chest heaving. You struggle against the bindings, breaking off into a desperate sob. The Demon Prince and his butler share a surprised look. Then, Diavolo is grinning, ever so slowly rocking his hips into you. Each movement assaults you with a new wave of pleasure.

“You didn’t tell me that she gets like this,” Diavolo remarks, glancing to his long-time friend. Barbatos shakes his head, his hands once more settling on your breasts. When the butler flicks his thumbs against your nipples, a muscle clenches in Diavolo’s jaw—your pussy constricting around him.

“I had no idea it was possible,” Barbatos responds, but you don’t hear their conversation. You can’t tear your gaze from the spot where Diavolo’s cock vanishes between your walls. You’ve never been so full before—so stretched--right at your breaking point.

It feels so good.

“Y/N,” Diavolo speaks your name tenderly, drawing you from your state of desperation. Your blown-out eyes turn up to him. He cups your cheek, brushing over the damp tear tracks on your skin. “What are your safe words?”

“S…Stoplight colors,” you tell him, and he nods. Leaning in, he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Use them if you need to.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Feeling better about your safety, Diavolo once more grips your waist, and begins fucking into your pussy with quick, smooth strokes. Each drag of his cock inside of you has you moaning—arousal rapidly building in the pit of your stomach. A part of you hopes that you’ll last long enough to cum with the Demon Prince, but when Barbatos settles his mouth against your neck—sucking at a particularly sensitive patch of flesh—you reach your climax without warning.

A cry tears from your throat. Your body spasms, pussy milking around Diavolo’s cock and hugging him so firmly that he actually snarls at the sensation. However, he doesn’t bother reprimanding you for the unprompted orgasm. No, instead he waits just long enough to allow the height of your pleasure to subside, before he begins snapping his hips into you with abandon.

Your lips part in a silent scream, Diavolo fucking you hard enough to make your tits bounce despite the upright position. As you struggle to maintain any sense of coherency, Barbatos hugs you tightly from behind, whispering quiet praises against your skin. It’s truly the only thing keeping you ground, at the moment.

“I can feel you getting tight again,” Diavolo remarks, the slightest growl in his voice, even as he chuckles. “Are you going to cum with me, Y/N?”

You shake your head violently. “I-I can’t. I can’t.”

You’re convinced that another orgasm will kill you.

Diavolo glances past your shoulder, to Barbatos. The butler nods his head. Without speaking a word, Barbatos knows his Lord’s request.

Pressing an apologetic kiss to your shoulder, Barbatos lowers one of his hands between your spread legs. Two of his fingers find your clit, and you choke down a sob. You desperately attempt to convince the royals that you’re unable to cum a third time, but the way your walls continue to contract around Diavolo’s cock says otherwise.

“Cum with me, and then you can rest,” Diavolo speaks, leaning in to capture your lips. He can taste your salty tears through the kiss.

“P-please,” you struggle to breathe, blurry eyes settling on the Demon Prince as he sits back—snapping his cock inside of you particularly hard. “Please.”

“Please what?” Diavolo asks, golden eyes soaking in the sight of you absolutely falling apart for him.

“Please…,” you repeat, voice trailing off. You’ve been so adamant about your inability to orgasm again, but now—with Diavolo thrusting into you, and Barbatos’ fingers working at your clit—you’re once again on the edge of release. You sob, the sound broken.

“Please let me cum.”

Diavolo grins handsomely.

“Cum for me, Y/N.”

And you’re helpless to obey, your body spasming as your third and final orgasm of the night tears through you. Your chest heaves—struggling to take in air as Diavolo fucks you through your pleasure—chasing his own bliss.

Thankfully, he comes only a few seconds behind you—seating his length fully inside of you, and stuffing you to the brim as he spills his seed between your sopping walls. The sound of ragged breathing fills the room.

You fade out of consciousness for a moment.

“You did so well, taking Lord Diavolo,” Barbatos whispers into your hair, bringing you back into reality. He presses a soft kiss to your head. You whimper at his words, exhausted, and craving more praise and comfort.

Knowing that you need to be released from the suspension, Diavolo finally pulls his softening cock from inside of you. Immediately, his cum is slipping from your used heat—dripping down your pussy, and even onto the floor at your feet.

“Barbatos,” Diavolo speaks, taking a step back. The butler nods, swiftly moving to unravel the spool of rope secured above the mantle. Soon, you find yourself on the floor, both Diavolo and Barbatos working to undo the many intricate knots and ties.

It takes a few minutes—you whining and begging for affection the entire time—but finally the two free you from your bindings. As you move your limbs around, you can feel blood rushing back into certain areas of your body.

You’re definitely going to be sore tomorrow. For many reasons.

“You did beautifully,” Diavolo whispers as he scoops you into his arms. He moves to settle on the couch, cradling you in his lap. He brushes a few stray hands of hair out of your face, smiling when you reach up and cup his cheeks—tugging him into a kiss.

“I’m seeing many new sides of you today,” he remarks with a chuckle. You lean back, tiredly pouting at him.

“Well, this is the first time I’ve been fully tied up, suspended, and fucked by both a Demon Prince, and his butler, so.”

“That would explain it.”

He grins wider, a fond look in his eyes as he dips down to press a kiss to your forehead. As he does so Barbatos kneels at your side. There’s a pleasant smile on his face, his now-gloved hands gingerly trailing against your legs—dipping into the shallow marks left by the rope.

“How are you feeling?” he questions. His voice is tender, full of concern.

“I’m okay,” you say. “Sore, and tired, but…I feel good.” You extend your arm—fingertips trailing against his jaw. Barbatos leans into the feeling, cupping your hand with his own. “Thank you both for taking such good care of me. Even though you may have exerted yourselves more, rather than relaxing tonight, like I was hoping you would do…”

“I can’t speak for Barbatos, but personally, I feel much better now,” Diavolo pipes up. The butler nods in agreement, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm.

“Yes, I agree. I feel quite relaxed.”

You roll your eyes at them, breathing a laugh.

“If you say so.”

The royals share a laugh as well.

“You need to rehydrate. Shall I fetch us some beverages?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, Barbatos. It’s unfortunate we’re out of tea.”

The butler presses to his feet, bowing minutely. “It is. I will be sure to restock the pantry soon.”

He turns, heading towards the door, but your voice stops him.

“Wait--,” you speak, noting a clock on the wall nearby. It’s already past 11. “—It’s getting late. I don’t want to take more of your time. I know you still have a busy schedule tomorrow.”

“I would think that Lucifer and his brothers will be concerned, should you return home in your current state,” Barbatos comments, and you pause, glancing down at yourself. You’re covered in rope markings all over your body, not to mention the hickies and bite marks now littering your neck. On top of that, you’re still not even sure if you can properly move on your own, let alone walk.

“I…”

“I was going to ask you to stay with us,” Diavolo pipes up, smiling at you. “If you don’t mind sharing the bed, I’d prefer to have you close tonight.”

Your cheeks heat up at his words, but you can’t deny how appealing it sounds—spending the night in Diavolo’s arms. Especially considering how he’d just ruined you.

“Okay,” you concede.

“Good!”

You gasp as Diavolo presses to his feet, still securely holding you in his arms. “In that case, please bring the beverages to my chambers, Barbatos.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

The butler then disappears from the room. Diavolo follows him out, but not before tossing a handily available blanket atop your naked form. Your grip at the soft fabric, pouting as you watch your cute dress get left behind on the messy, rope covered floor.

“My dress…”

“Barbatos will likely return and clean up before the night ends. I’m sure it will be returned to you by morning,” Diavolo reassures you. You curl your hand into the dark fabric of his shirt, glancing up at him.

“That’s still more work for him…”

“You need to stop worrying about us,” he scolds you, giving you a light squeeze. You knock your forehead against his chest.

“It’s hard. I want you both to stop being so busy.”

“Soon,” he reassures you with a chuckle, and you feel his lips press into the crown of your hair. “Then we’ll go back to having Sunday tea.”

Perfect.

That night, you pass out tucked against Diavolo’s broad chest, before Barbatos ever appears with the drinks. At some point, a wet cloth drags between your legs, and a straw is placed between your lips, but you’re too exhausted to remember anything more than that. All you know is that when you wake up the next morning, Diavolo is gone, your bladder is full, and there’s a note on the nightstand addressed to you.

It’s Barbatos’ handwriting.

Y/N,

Lord Diavolo would like to apologize for being unable to keep you company this morning. We promise to make it up to you at a later time.

Your dress, along with vitamins, and other health supplements that will help you should you be ailing from the excitement of last night, are at the foot of the bed.

Blinking, you look down and realize that indeed your dress is folded neatly at your feet--a small gift bag beside it. But there’s no way you’ll need such medicine, right?

Slowly, you press to your feet, and immediately groan. Yep, everything is sore. You’ve never felt so achy all over.

Lucifer is here for a meeting. He will walk you home at 9am, once it is finished. Please meet him at the front doors.

If there’s anything else you need, please let myself, or Lord Diavolo know.

- Barbatos

You note that your DDD has been conveniently placed on the nightstand beside the note.

Clicking the phone screen to life—you pause.

It’s already 8:50.

“Shit!”

You rush to prepare yourself—dressing haphazardly, and running through the halls of the castle in order to meet Lucifer on time. You arrive at the front doors to find him waiting for you. He cocks an eyebrow, gaze falling to your current outfit. You’re adorning the dress you’d worn the day before, but beneath it, you’re also wearing a white turtleneck.

How curious.

“…did you enjoy your stay?”

There’s an amused look on his face—one that tells you he won’t be fooled by whatever excuse you decide to try and come up with. So, you settle for giving him an honest response.

“I did.”

And you can’t wait until your next one.

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