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fightxxmexxshiggy · 3 years

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Don't fear the reaper

You love to go urban exploring and you make contact with a sexy supernatural being. I wrote this during KINKtober

Kirishima x female reader

TW:CHOKING, ROUGH SEX, BREEDING KINK, TALK OF DEATH.

Word count: 3420

Walking through abandoned buildings wasn't the safest hobby but it was definitely the most interesting one. You loved seeing all the graffiti, art and equipment from a bygone era. Sometimes you went with groups when the buildings seemed more dangerous but today you went alone. As you made your way through the abandoned factory for today's exploration you noticed all the dusty work stations, they were so eerie the way they were still set up like a worker had walked away for a break and just never returned. You were honestly tempted to film the place but seeing as you were doing this on a saturday and Halloween no less you decided not to push your luck. Walking carefully you avoided the broken glass and some more crumbling areas in the concrete floors. This space was so wide open it made you curious as to what had been made here in the factories prime.

As you headed towards the stairs that would take you to the second floor you heard a thump and a voice shout "fucking rats." From above you. Slowly you took the stairs one at a time and called out asking if anyone was there. After a bit of shuffling the voice spoke again." If you're a cop no one is here if you're an urban explorer I'm totally here and would love some company." Laughing you stepped onto the second floor landing coming face to face with a redheaded man with surprisingly sharp teeth. Smiling at you he came forward with a hand out for a handshake. Shaking his hand you noticed how large his hands were and how strong his grip was. Letting go you introduced yourself feeling a bit awkward now that you could see the face that went along with the voice. With a wide smile he crossed his arms over his toned chest, pulling his shirt taunt over the muscles. You really needed to get layed if a rando you just met on an exploring trip was getting you hot and bothered. You were so caught up in your own thoughts you almost didn't hear him introduce himself.

"The names Eijiro Kirishima and it's nice to meet a fellow explorer." You smiled at him before looking away to take in your new surroundings. The second floor was a bit dark and seemed even more dusty than the first if that was possible. Walking further into the area you saw a wooden plank laying in the middle of the mostly clear walkway. As you looked at it Kirishima chuckled and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "That plank was my fault. I was walking further in to explore some more and a rat jumped out at me." Laughing you told him you had heard his comments on the rat earlier from downstairs. It was quite interesting to see such a large man blush like a child at being caught cursing. Quickly Kirishima bent down and picked up the plank to place it back against the wall.

Damn the man had an amazing ass and those arms were so cut you were definitely sure your pussy had just clenched a little. This was bad, this poor man was just being friendly and here you were imagining what it would be like to have his forearm around your throat while he did dirty things to your body. Clearing your throat you asked if he'd like to join for the rest of the second floor exploration. "I'd love that pebble. I usually wander around alone but I'd never say no to having company as cute as you." Blushing you looked away as you started to walk with him going deeper into the dusty space. To your left there were tons of planks and glass panes leaning against the wall and to the right were mostly boxes stacked against the railings. You assumed this must have been office space for the owners and admins of the factory. As you walked a little ahead trying to see what was by the farthest walls you heard the floorboards groaning under your weight before they completely went out from under you.

You were lucky and grabbed a part of the floor that hadn't caved in as you fell. You yelled for help and saw Kirishima walk closer to where you were hanging. His face looked conflicted as he made no move to help or even to give you any reassurance. You realized he wasn't scared to fall in but you couldn't tell why he wouldn't help. Sighing defeatedly Kirishima walked over without an ounce of fear and crouched down to make eye contact with you. "I don't know what to do with you pebble, my job is to guide your soul to the afterlife but I really like you. You're so sweet and shy, much too good to be restarted just because the plan says so." What was he talking about? His job was to guide your soul? Why was he talking like he knew you? You just met him 30 minutes ago. Had you just become friends with a nut job who planned to watch you die?

"Ah I can see that you're confused, I mean I would be too." standing up to his full high he towered over you as you continued to stare up at him with a mix of confusion and fear. He placed back and forth for a moment before turning to you and smiling that big sharp toothed grin that moments before would have made your tummy do a little flip. If hanging half out of a hole in an abandoned building wasn't enough what happened next shocked you so much you almost lost your grip. Kirishima slowly began to lift off from the floor just floating in mid air. With wide eyes you stared in shock, wondering if maybe you had gone a little crazy while hoping he might help you so that you didn't fall to your death. "Well I know what I'm about to tell you is a bit unbelievable so I decided to show you that I'm not joking before I explain. I happen to be a reaper and today was supposed to be the day you die. But like I said I really don't know what to do with you seeing as I don't want someone as manly and fearless as you to just be gone and reincarnated as someone else."

As if to further prove his status as a reaper the man before you started to change. His hoodie and shorts, which were pretty standard for building walks, melted away into a pair of black military style pants and boots along with a fitted black tank top that hugged his chest and back muscles in a way that should definitely be illegal. His arms were covered in a few black band tattoos that circled his wrists and biceps. What was the most astonishing was that his spiky red hair grew long, long to the point that the ends floated around his hips. His still smiling face was covered with a half skull mask leaving his mouth still exposed. "Hey pebble do you want to live as who you are now even if that meant some things about you would change or do you want to die and have me guide you to the next realm? I'll do whatever makes you happier even if it's not what I'd like to see." His eyes shone with sincerity through his mask and his smile seemed a bit forced. You could tell that even though he wasn't human like you he still felt the same emotions that you did. From everything he had said and shown you you could tell he held affection towards you. Enough so that he was willing to go against what was probably as natural as breathing for a reaper. Looking up at him still floating above you a smile broke over your face. You told him you wanted to stay as yourself whatever the changes might be.

Kirishima grinned at you somehow managing to look sweet and scary all at once. Wasting no time he floated over you and grabbed you by the back of your shirt with one hand. Instead of pulling you back to the second level he drifted the two of you through the hole and down to the concrete floors below. Letting go of the back of your shirt he held out his hand to you still trying to give you some control over the situation. As you took his hand he gave it a grateful squeeze before moving to sit with you on a dust covered bench. "Listen pebble I want to be honest with you. The only way for you to stay yourself is if you became my anchor. An anchor is kind of like a reaper's chosen soulmate and we only get a chance to have one every 1000 years of service." This day was getting stranger and stranger by the fucking minute. You could live but you would need to become this man's soulmate, basically his wife. Looking at him again you could say you wouldn't enjoy the physical parts of such a relationship. Honestly Kirishima had no business being this sexy. Well if this kind of thing was gonna happen to you Halloween was no better day for it to happen on. Squeezing his hand you agreed even though you knew he had more to explain.

"If you're sure then I'll take us to my home so that we can link our souls without turning into dust bunnies." The world around you faded out and changed into a huge bedroom that was painted black and red with posters of an old superhero movie lining them. There was workout equipment everywhere you looked, well that at least told you that his muscles were all from hard work and not just random spooky reaper magic. With no small bit of embarrassment you sat on his bed and rubbed your fingers across the covers looking anywhere but him. Taking you straight into his bedroom instead of a living room or something told you exactly what you had been guessing at. Linking souls was definitely going to require sexual contact. "Pebble look at me." Looking up you took him in once again almost drooling over his now shirtless chest as he loosened his belt giving you a tantalizing look at his black happy trail. He walked up to you and held your cheeks in his hands. He searched your eyes for a few moments and when he saw no fear or rejection lowered his head to give you a kiss. This kiss was slow and gentle but full of so much heat you were sure every nerve in your body was on fire. Kirishima's tongue licked across yours as he savored the taste of his soon to be anchor. Not wanting to just sit there and take it you put your all into the kiss licking his teeth, nibbling on his lips, and even sucking on his tongue the same way you wished to suck on another part of his body. Kirishima broke the kiss panting heavily as he let his hands caress down your neck until they reached the collar of the t-shirt you wore. With barely a flick of his fingers your shirt was torn down the middle, your bra sharing its fate. He pushed the shredded material down your shoulders letting it fall to the bed.

"I'm going to be as gentle as I can for you pebble but I have very limited control over myself at the moment. Your so fucking beautiful I swear my supervisor gave me your case cause he knew I'd fall for you." Crawling over you he straddled your waist and began to kiss and bite down your neck stopping only when he reached your breast. Pushing both your breasts together he kissed every inch of them worshiping the heavy mounds. With no warning he sucked both of your nipples into his mouth, bathing them with his tongue before biting them. After every bite he flicked his tongue against the hardened peaks earned himself little whines and moans of appreciation. Once he felt that he could no longer hold himself in check with just adoring your nipples, Kirishima slid down off the bed to crouch in front of you for the second time that day. Slipping his fingers under the waistband of your panties and shorts he tugged them down and over your boots leaving you in only your favorite necklace and your socks and boots. His blood was fire in his veins as he took in the sight of you. Your pussy was so beautifully slick with your juices that it would have been blasphemous for him not to take a taste. Grabbing your thighs he used them to pull your ass to the edge of the bed where he drove in with no hesitation. Licking and sucking the lips of your pussy before using his tongue to separate them. Each swipe of his tongue drove you higher and closer to orgasm. He suckled your clit grazing it with those sharp teeth. The hint of danger from having such vicious looking teeth on something so sensitive threw you over the edge. The pleasure made you so mindlessly happy that you screamed out "eijiro." Like it was a prayer.

At the sound of his first name on your lips all rational thought was lost to kiri. He stood shoving his pants down just enough to free his throbbing cock before he pulled you so only your shoulders and head remained on the bed. With you folded over the way he wanted Kiri slammed his cock into your tight little hole. He was only able to fit about half of his massive girth inside before he had to pull back out leaving only the head inside. This move was the best he could do to get the right momentum to start his powerful digging thrusts. Each thrust was hard and determined, meant to help him reach his goal. And reach his goal is what he did, Kiri bottomed out inside of you after 5 thrusts. His cock head kissed your cervix on the last thrust pulling a choked sob from your throat. Being folded into such a position only made the stretching of your pussy feel that much more overwhelming. Kiri set up a hard measured pace,his only focus on getting his seed into your womb to link the two of you together. Grunting and growling he told you everything he planned. "Fuck pebble your so damn tight and wet. I need to get my cum inside your womb otherwise I might go insane. No one told me linking to your anchor would make me feel like this. I wanna destroy anyone who would ever think to take you from me." You whined desperately every time his cock head battered against the entrance to your womb. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Reaching up you tried to rub your clit only for kiri to grab your wrist and hold it in a firm grip. He was almost passed the point of words but managed a beastly sounding "not without me." Before he increased his pace and shifted his hips making sure every thrust hammered your gspot. Kiri leaning over you to rail your little hole was already a sight to see but the way his hair hung down and tickled against your skin made every nerve ending you had buzz with electricity. A few strands had started to cling to his face due to the sweat pouring off of him and you had to swallow to keep from drooling. This man was made for it seemed, he was everything you had ever fantasized about on those lonely treks through the newest abandoned explore. The sounds of your sex echoed through the room, wet sucking noises, the slap of skin on skin and the sounds only two people in a haze pleasure could make. As he got closer kiri started to slap three fingers on his free hand against your clit. The rhythm of the slaps matched his cocks thrusts so perfectly it caused your pussy to let out a constant stream of squirt. At his final thrust he locked his knees prepared for what was to come. Kiri's cum shot from his slit hosing against your cervix as the base of his cock swelled locking inside you. His cum was so hot and he hadn't stopped tapping your clit. All this combined with the swelling of his cock threw you over the edge, an orgasm ripping through your body so hard your eyes rolled back in your head. Once you had gone limp kiri pulled you up into his arms before turning and sitting on the bed, still locked inside you.

"You are my anchor now the other part of me that will light my way even in the darkest hour." Laying down kiri relaxed, one large hand stroking your back as your breathing began to even out. Just as you were about to drift off you felt shocks and tingling race up and down your arms. Leaning up you looked down at your arms and found you had developed the same tattoos that kiri had on his arms. When you questioned him on it he smiled happily before caressing each mark. "These are proof that our link is true and blessed by the fate in charge of reaper unions." Your heart did a little flip as you took in his love filled expression. By now Kiri's knot had gone down so you pulled yourself up and off of his semi hard cock. He protested wishing to sleep buried inside you but quieted down when you spun around and put your pussy over his face. Leaning down you took his cock in hand and began to lick all the cum and pussy juice from it. Following your lead kiri pulled your hips down and swiped his tongue through the combination of your fluids and his. Once you had his cock cleaned you started to tease him, digging your tongue into his slit. His hips bucked and his leisurely pace on your pussy became wild as he slurped and sucked away. Feeling mischievous you continued you playing with his slit but began to rub that sensitive spot just under the head of his cock.

That is where you went wrong or in this case very right. Kiri's switch was flipped as he lifted you clear in the air by your hips. He threw you into the middle of the room but instead of hitting the floor you stayed suspended in the air. He was using his powers on you! With his magic kiri floated you to sit on his cock no other part of him touching you but the cock pressed at your entrance. "Pretty pebble do your bolder a favor and count for me. I want to see just how much of me is claiming this pussy." You couldn't deny him since keeping silent only made him tease you gently with his tip. Frustrated and wet you began to count each inch. At six you really started to feel the stretching of your inner muscles on this heavy cock. At nine inches you had a little drool running down the corner of your mouth. At twelve inches your pussy was continuously dribbling squirt down Kiri's cock and balls. At fourteen you came whining his name, begging him to fuck you properly and end this delicious torture. All he did was laugh and slowly thrust inside of you keeping you well pleasured but unsatisfied. "It's ok pebble we have all the time in the world now. We're going to take this slow all night long." His last words were said on a beastly growl as he placed one hand on your throat and squeezed enough to make your pussy squeeze his cock in return. This whole Halloween had been nuts so an all night fuck fest with your new supernatural soulmate was just the cherry on top. Sobbing you reached back and grabbed hold of a lock of his hair looking for any part of him to touch that could ground you. His thrusts got harder as you pulled. Well you knew how to get him to fuck you harder. You couldn't wait to learn more tonight and for the rest of your eternity together.

#kirishima x reader #bnha kirishima #bnha smut #bnha simping hours #kirishima eijirou #kirishima fanfic #kirishima smut #mha smut

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sapphire-innit · 3 years

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Saddest Beach Party Ever :(

Watch out for this one folks, it gets a bit dark -- mind the tags (though nothing outside of what you'd expect for.. this episode)

VOD: Tommy Is Left ALONE at his Exile Party with Dream (Start - 35:30)

(rp) I have Absolutely been putting off watching this one because I WILL cry and I am scared

I can't imagine what it was like to watch live and see NO ONE on the beach

He's keeping up a good face, adding more chairs... I'm not looking forward to it setting in.

like fuck man, fuck Dream for chasing of Ghostbur for MULTIPLE reasons but also because no one else even KNEW about the party :(

He's so excited about maybe seeing Tubbo I hate it Thanks

and now he's putting things down for Quackity and adding more things he's still so happy and excited (though you can occasionally see the mask break - there's a lot of nervous energy here)

"Where... no, well go place this" "why did Fundy leave the game" THANKS I HATE IT

Lazer and Fundy have been some of the people who have visited toooo :(

Tommy's face when no one is on the nether path.............. ouch

.............................................................................................

log off right now green demon

log off RIGHT NOW

just stewing in silence ..... painful....

cc!Tommy really is one of the best actors on the server, this hurts quite a bit

............

I know that's Dream joining the call and I hate it

fuck

"I'm running a little late, sorry :)" >:|

fuck, Tommy apologized and tossed his armor immediately INCLUDING HIS GIFT SHOES AND AXE, Dream didn't even ask

Dream of course taking the chance to be '''''''benevolent''''.... probably as a reward for Tommy doing it immediately and without prompting >:|

and ofc Dream just straight up lies about the invites to rub salt into the wound. Cant have Tommy thinking people CARE ABOUT HIM OR ANYTHING.

Even mentioned Tubbo SPECIFICALLY YOU BASTARD "in L'manburg" was that truly necessary bastard

the sun setting... a symbol of hope... the symbol of their friendship.... disappearing into the ocean... I hate it :(

Dream pushing him into eating the cake.. "I've lost my appetite"

just digging in that Tubbo For Sure got the Invite Definitely and no one came except Dream.

"I didn't mind being a little bit late because I thought everyone else would be here" why did he keep pointing out he was late, kept hammering that point home. Like even Dreams attention is not important to Dream? like it has to be earned maybe ..?

"No one cares about me anymore" "that's not true" *BREAKS CAKE* "None of them care about me anymore"

IS HE BREAKING THE PATH OHNOOO ;-;

"No one cares... other than You(Derogatory)"

"Maybe they had something more important" I hate how Dream hides his digs behind sounding consoling it fucking SUCKS

I hate how depressed he sounds, how resigned

....threw away the chicken, and he isn't eating or healing. I knew to watch out for it but its never been this pronounced before. He's down to three hearts ;-;

"I'm pretty sure he burned it, or lost it" I do not believe that for a SECOND Dream, or at least its not as clear cut as it seems. Tubbo CARES ABOUT TOMMY, I *JUST SAW* a clip of him holding the compass aaaaa

ohno

"at least SOMEONE on this entire 30 person server got an invite" "He said he was going to give it to at least 13 people, and at least one person I saw give it in person"

ohno

ohnooooooooooo

he really is gonna toss the compass isn't he nooooooooo

...............

staring into the lava again. "he burned it. On purpose"

Dream quibbling ... but doubling down i hate it

.......its just... so clear he's not only thinking about the compass in lava

Dream shooting at the Ghast,,, telling Tommy to sleep on it, coaxing him back from the edge "almost fell off, careful Tommy" I hate it here

"I don't sleep anymore Dream" "I just want to go home" "Please can I go home" he sounds so broken ;A;

"why can't I stay" :( :( :(

"It's not like they want you anyway Tommy. No one showed up to your party and everyone was invited" And THIS is why Dream tanked the party on purpose. Because if Tommy thinks no one even wants him, he won't even try to get back, and will just stay under Dreams control. There's such a mental and emotional difference and toll from "Outside forces (Dream) are keeping me from going home and maybe I can subvert or change them" and "Home doesn't want me and they're better off without me"

It truly is creepy how Dream is trying to coax him with the Christmas tree, like he's trying to pull this balancing act because he can tell Tommy is on the edge of really giving up and I hate it so much

He still hasn't eaten

"c'monn you want to see the Christmas tree :)" overwriting his feelings as well ugh

"I'm sure if you asked them, they'd say they care about you" I see you invalidating any future concern someone might show him

ALSO TOMMY CALLING EXILE HOME IS SURE SOMETHING

.....him asking Dream to defend him is... painful. Especially having just watched the latest stream where he asked the same of Tubbo right after being triggered as hell ugh. He really has gotten used to being made helpless and depending on Dream, even on the one day he didn't get his armor and weapons taken away from him. He sounds so resigned :(

(( LOL OK THE DNF JOKE WAS PRETTY FUNNY THO))

he's bribing him with the trident and I hate it. Though at least hes enjoying it??? Mixed feelings on that. He ate too and I hate that Dreams honeymoon stage is w o r k i n g )

that is the most sincere I have ever heard Tommy say Dream cares about him and it FUCKING SUCKS

I know we never could have had "Happy Party AU" because Dream never would have allowed people to come and validate Tommy but man Trident tricks w everyone would have been nice

...lol someone pointed out the red looks like blood. the fake girlfriend bits are so Weird

Dream what do you GET out of this, why are you so OBSESSED. He spends so much time here

"I wont bring it up with them because that would be awkward" oof and I bet he won't believe it if anyone says they didn't get the invite will he oof

.. He pulls out the Axe but lets dream actually kill the skeleton, he already put it away before Dream even got on screen how many times do i have to say THANKS I HATE IT HERE before it becomes meaningless

So this was around the point (or maybe a little bit later, but talking about this point) during dsmp where I started seeing it cross my dash without any context and saw a lot of takes about "oh but they didn't get the invite" and I had NO IDEA why Tommy was so upset about what was clearly a misunderstanding or why he was making it such a big deal.... well I get it now

Tommy really really isn't in a place where he can believe someone when they say they didn't get an invite. And it Really Truly WAS a big deal and actually I'm 100% on Tommy's side on this issue now (though I also don't blame the other characters for this: See Big Green Bastard Man who is truly at fault) I can understand completely why he throws it in their face later though

He's doubting if he wants to go back now.. that was exactly the point of it all :(

"Thanks for letting me keep my armor today btw" I hate how sincere Tommy is about this. I hate how Dream has so effectively done this, where Tommy sees it as a FAVOR that Dream doesn't come and blow up all of his things and hard work and THANKS him for it.

People much smarter than me have pointed out how 1:1 this is to real abusive relationships and how well its portrayed. I don't have anything clever or insightful to say here I guess, just that its exhausting and heavy to watch (but also really powerful as well, because we DON'T see shit like this played this realistically, or in this much accurate detail)

I just want Tommy to be out of here safely and realize what is being done to him is WRONG and not his fault and be given a chance to actually heal. I know the likelihood of that in the future, considering whats to come, is also. complicated to say the least.

#dream smp #dream smp liveblog #dsmp exile arc #tommyinnit #c!dream critical #dreamwastaken #abuse tw #gaslighting tw #suicide tw #depression tw

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joonie-beanie · 4 years

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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.

#if u liked plz come yell at me uwu #om!#obey me #barbatos #diavolo #obey me smut #obey me fic #barbatos smut #diavolo smut #obey me swd #diavolo fic #barbatos fic #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader

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sleeperswakewriting · 3 years

Text

fire alarm

Thank you to @nicolanoodles for the prompt: “the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear AU”

AO3

Rating: G

Pairing: Levi x Petra

Petra groaned and rubbed her eyes as she slid into her slippers. Not again…She thought, throwing on her robe and grabbing her phone. She padded to her front door with not nearly as much haste as she probably should have, but she was tired. For the third time this week, her building’s fire alarm had gone off, and each time had been a false alarm. Something related to a new system, is what management told everyone, but it still didn’t make up for the fact that this was now the third night this week that she had woken up at 3 AM. By the time the firetrucks were called and the all clear was given, she barely fell back asleep before waking up at a prompt 5:30 AM to get ready for work.

Her coworkers and students commented on her ragged appearance, which made her all the more frustrated since she was usually known for her sunny disposition, but even she had her limits, and she was someone who valued her sleep. It didn’t help that she recently moved into the building so she had nearly another year before her lease was up, and she was so sure that this apartment would be the perfect fit for her modest salary and being a single woman.

Skirting down the stairs, Petra noticed her neighbors also lazily making their way back down, each of them with the same annoyed and dazed look. Petra knew most of the people on her floor, an elderly couple three doors down, a single mom and son across from her, and a young couple with an adorable Pomeranian that she often saw in the afternoons when she returned from work. There were a couple neighbors unaccounted for, and Petra assumed that their schedules never aligned, but she never had any noise complaints, which was the plus side to her floor.

The summer breeze hit her as she made her way onto the grass, the moistness catching her fluffy slippers and she grumbled, wondering if the apartment complex would reimburse her for physical and emotional damage. If anything, her students will be suffering tomorrow since Ms. Ral had been at the end of her rope all week, and one more student on the red zone would take away Friday’s movie afternoon. Clearly, lack of sleep made her heartless, but at this point she didn’t care, she wanted to get back into her bed.

Petra pulled up her Snapchat to show her friends that yet again, she would be in a bad mood all day. As she raised her phone to the apartment complex to snap a picture of the screeching disaster, she immediately noticed a man standing a few feet in front of her in his underwear. Well, his black boxer’s to be exact. He had flip flops on, and he wore a scowl equal to the people around him. His eyes focused in on her, and his grimace darkened.

They made eye contact and Petra yelped, immediately turning around and slapping her phone to the side of her leg and out of sight. Oh my god, he must think I’m such a perv. Don’t turn around, Petra. Even if he is hot and has a six pack, you were not taking a picture of him in his underwear!

“Oi,” a man said, tapping her shoulder, and she went hot.

Slowly turning around to meet her judgement, Petra went crimson as the man in the boxers stood in front of her. He was glaring (as he should, Petra thought) and pointed to her phone in her hand. He was only a few inches taller than her, maybe a just bit older too, with grey eyes and an undercut.

“What the hell?” He asked, and Petra found it very hard to breathe. The last time she was this close to a near naked man was her ex-boyfriend, and that was someone she knew very well. This was a stranger! A very sexy, are-his-muscles-photoshopped stranger.

Petra took a step back, squishing further into wet grass and she stuttered, “I-I wasn’t taking a picture of you. I was just taking a Snapchat to show my friends to complain. I would show you, but you know, Snapchat.”

The main raised an eyebrow, not buying her story, and she groaned. “I promise I’m not a pervert. You’re really attractive, but I’m not the type to snap pictures of random guys.”

He raised his eyebrows even further, the annoyance disappearing and his expression softened to something closer to amusement.

Realizing what she just said, hung over from lack of sleep, Petra clamped her mouth shut and took a deep sigh.

“Let me start over. Hi, my name is Petra. I live in 34C.” She extended her hand, hoping to get into the stranger’s good graces before he reported her for harassment.

The man shook her hand. “Levi. 34B.”

God, could this day get any worse? He was her freaking neighbor too?! One of the nameless ones that apparently worked opposite hours. Feeling lightheaded, Petra released his hand and stared at the ground in embarrassment.

Seemingly uncomfortable with their silence, Levi coughed. “This shit sucks,” he said, pointing his thumb at the firetrucks that started to pour in. They were a good 100 feet away from the building, but the noise was enough to give her a headache.

“Yeah,” Petra agreed lamely, her silk robe suddenly feeling too tight.

“How long have you been living here?” He asked.

“Just two months, I got a job in the area over the summer. You?”

“A year.”

“Oh, so are these things common? I’ve been meaning to ask around but I’m always so tired when they go off, but I’m not sure how much longer I can take it.”

“Not really, but it’s still fucking annoying. Not like we have work or anything,” he mumbled sarcastically, running his fingers through his hair.

Since the conversation had mellowed out and he didn’t seem as agitated at her, she allowed herself to peek at him, admiring his muscular features. Maybe he was a personal trainer? Or in the military?

“I know, right? I have to deal with so many brats in the morning, this week has been killing me,” she commiserated.

Levi seemed to smirk as she spoke, and she amended, “Not that I don’t like my students or anything! They can be a handful, but I usually really do like them when I’m not sleep deprived.”

“You’re a teacher?”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Third grade.”

“Wow,” he replied sincerely. “I couldn’t do that, too much noise.”

“What do you do?” She asked, feeling braver.

He crossed his arms, and Petra swallowed as the action highlighted his chest and biceps. “I’m a lawyer.”

“Oh! Like defense attorney stuff?”

“Child welfare,” he replied, looking to the side, and Petra’s heart melted. Hot and chivalrous? She had to tell Nanaba about him later.

“That’s amazing!” She said enthusiastically, nearly forgetting about his unclothed state, and she stepped closer to him. His eyes widened as the side of her robe brushed against his stomach, and she caught herself, giggling.

“Aha, sorry!” She pulled the straps tighter against her. “Can I ask why you’re in your underwear?” Don’t look near his groin, Petra. Don’t try to guess how big—

“I was asleep,” Levi deadpanned, as if it were obvious. Petra looked around them, wondering if anyone else was in a similar state of disarray, but most people were in their robes or threw on a jacket to cover themselves up. Seemingly, as if Levi could read her mind, “I never know if one of these things are real or not, so I just gun for it. I guess I should know by now, but it’s a pretty knee jerk reaction.”

“Do you want my robe?” She asked suddenly, feeling bad for him and maybe he was feeling self-conscious.

“Hell no. I’d rather be like this than be caught dead in your pink lingerie.”

Petra blushed furiously. “It is not lingerie! It’s a robe!”

He nodded, and with a teasing lilt to his tone, “Sure. With a v-neck cut out to show off your cleavage. Just a robe.”

She looked down at herself for the first time since putting on the ensemble, and she grew hotter noticing the lacy and thin tank top she was wearing. It was obvious to anyone looking at her up close that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her sleep shorts cut off before her robe, making her look pants-less.

“Do you want to sit in my car and make out until the trucks leave?”

“W-What?!” Petra gaped, and she looked up to see Levi’s face lined in amusement, holding up his car keys.

“I’m kidding. I was actually going to sit in there before I saw you taking a picture of me. We’ve already seen each other half naked, so it isn’t too weird to sit in a car together.”

Not seeing how her night could get any more embarrassing, Petra nodded and found herself following Levi to his car in the adjacent lot. Maybe I should call out of work tomorrow…

“For the record, I definitely was not taking a photo of you.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did, though.” He said, opening the door to his black sports car, and Petra’s heart thrummed in her chest, inhaling the leather.

Maybe the fire alarm going off wasn’t so bad.

#rivetra #Levi x petra #petra ral #rivetra fanfiction

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bellafarella · 3 years

Text

I get to love you, it's the best thing that I'll ever do

Summary: After the emotionally draining day, Ian shows Mickey just how much he means to him

Notes: HELLO so I cried the entire time I was writing this so if you don't then I have some serious problems lmaooo

This idea was from Andie, my darling friend, who made this tweet today:

Who's writing the one-shot for when Ian and Mickey went to bed and had a heartfelt conversation about what happened that day, how proud Ian is of Mickey, Mickey thanks him for being there for him and they end up the night making love and falling asleep holding each other. WHO!?

So I took it upon myself to write. Andie, I hope you like this ❤️

Title from I get to love you by Ruelle 🥺

Read here on AO3

**********************************************

Mickey sighs when his body meets their old but still decently good mattress. Ian’s already lying in bed in his blue t-shirt and boxers, the blanket coming up just under his chest. Mickey has on his grey tank that he and Ian always seem to share and his boxers. He pulls the blanket up over his body, staying on his back, eyes closed.

“Today was a long day,” he hears Ian say softly beside him.

Mickey grunts, not even sure if he can speak anymore. He’s been up for what feels like two straight days, what with helping Lip and Brad with the bike heist in the middle of the night then not getting to sleep because they had shit to do all day.

“You okay?” Ian says after a few minutes of silence. Mickey felt like he was going to maybe fall asleep but hearing his husband speaking so softly beside him, asking him how he’s doing, keeps him awake.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to look at Ian. He has these too big, too soft eyes just staring at him like if he moves he might break him. Mickey smiles at him softly before turning completely to face him. He says just as softly, “Not really, but I will be because I have you.”

Ian smiles so softly, his eyes getting impossibly softer too, “I’m so proud of you, Mick.”

Mickey feels the tears rush to his eyes hearing those words. He’s too exhausted to stop them so a couple fall down hitting the pillow beneath him. Ian’s hand comes up to caress his face, brushing the tears away with his thumb. “You’re the strongest and bravest man I’ve ever met,” Ian tells him with all the sincerity that he has. His green eyes are so dark as he looks into Mickey’s baby blue eyes filled with tears. “You could never be anything like him because you are good.”

Mickey can’t stop the tears but he doesn’t feel like he has to. Ian is there to brush them away for him. “You’re a pain in my ass,” Ian adds and a laugh escapes Mickey making Ian smile that smile that made Mickey fall so deeply in love with all these years ago. “You’re snarky and you’re crude, but you’re thoughtful and caring, and I’ve never felt as loved and as safe as I do when I’m with you. You’re my soulmate and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Mickey brings his hand to Ian’s chest and grabs onto his shirt, pulling him in. Ian goes willingly, pressing his lips to Mickey’s. It’s wet from their mixed tears but it’s filled with so much love and compassion and support.

They pull back just enough to rest their foreheads together, letting their emotions settle before they wipe away their tears. Mickey looks into Ian’s eyes and tells him, “Thank you for being there for me.”

“I will always be there for you, Mick,” Ian tells him and Mickey knows this to be true. “Forever.”

Their mouths are instantly drawn back to each other, this time with more passion and heat to it. Mickey just wants to have his husband on him, let him wash away all of the raw emotions he’s feeling from the emotionally draining day, and just feel loved and wanted.

Ian knows his husband and doesn’t need to be told to know exactly what he wants. He rolls Mickey over so that he’s lying on his back as Ian settles on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, having his full weight pressing him down, making Mickey feel instantly better.

Mickey’s hands move up Ian’s back, under his t-shirt, indicating he wants it off. Ian pulls back slightly, straddling Mickey so he could remove his shirt, giving Mickey the space to do the same with his own. Shirts thrown across the room, Ian gets back down on Mickey, pressing their bare chests together as he kisses Mickey softly. His tongue gently coaxes its way into Mickey’s mouth, teasing against his tongue in a gentle slide.

Mickey can feel Ian’s hard cock against his through their thin boxers and he wants to feel it against him, skin on skin. He slips his hand between them to grab Ian’s dick through his boxers, eliciting a moan from him. Ian pulls back from the kiss to look into Mickey’s eyes.

“I need you,” Mickey tells him softly, so much more vulnerable than he’s possibly ever been.

Ian kisses him on the forehead then on the lips before he gets off of him so they can shed the last remaining article of clothing they have on. Ian grabs the lube before getting back in between Mickey’s spread legs. Their hard, leaking cocks now slide against each other and Mickey moans softly. Ian brings his lips to Mickey’s neck, kissing him softly before he starts sucking on his neck, leaving a mark on his pale, white skin, as he feels Mickey’s hands grabbing his ass, pulling him into him more.

Mickey plants his feet on the mattress when he hears the click of the lube bottle being open then closed. He feels Ian’s finger circling him before being gently pushed inside of him. He moans softly at the feeling, having needed this so badly. He pulls Ian back into him, pressing their lips together, showing him how much he loves and appreciates him with his kisses.

Ian fucks him open, slow and steady, until Mickey tells him, “Ian, please.”

Ian never tires of hearing Mickey say his first name. It’s been years but it makes his heart feel so absolutely full because it makes him think about all the years where he was just Gallagher or some dumb nickname Mickey thought of that week. He loved it though - being called Gallagher or any of the other nicknames he decided to call him, but hearing his name on Mickey’s lips, so soft and filled with love. It’s the best feeling in the world.

Ian pushes himself inside of his husband slowly until he bottoms out. Mickey moans at the fullness of Ian inside of him, his hands gripping onto his lower back, his head thrown back against the pillow. Ian kisses his exposed neck, right on the mark that’s starting to bruise. Mickey wraps his legs around Ian so Ian starts to move, fucking him slow and deep.

They don’t always fuck like this - they both love the hard and fast fucks - but when they do fuck like this - slow and deep and just filled with so many emotions, it’s always something very special to both of them. Mickey feels loved and cherished, and that he finally has a home because he has Ian. Mickey’s been in love with Ian for ten years, even when he didn’t want to admit it. Mickey knows that Ian’s been in love with him for ten years too. He feels it in the way Ian is making love to him now. He feels like in the way Ian was by his side all day, not pushing but wanting to just be there for him. He feels it in the way Ian makes him breakfast when he’s up earlier than him. He feels it in the way Ian cuddles up next to him on the sofa after a long day. He feels it in the way Ian looks into his eyes every single day.

“I love you so much, Mickey,” Ian says, their eyes meeting, both with fresh new tears in them.

He feels it in the way Ian tells him just how much he means to him.

“I love you,” Mickey says, his hands pulling Ian’s face back to his, kissing him softly on the lips.

They come together, with soft kisses and I love yous, before pulling the covers up around them. Ian says softly, “Come here.”

Mickey goes willingly, laying his head down on Ian’s chest as he feels Ian’s arms wrap around him, holding him close. Mickey lays his hand on Ian’s stomach, loving the way his husband looks and feels now that he’s bulked up and gained a bit of weight. He feels sturdy, steady, and that helps Mickey feel calm.

Ian’s hand moves up and down Mickey’s back soothingly as the other comes to take Mickey’s hand. Mickey intertwines their fingers, needing the security that Ian is here with him and always will be.

Ian kisses the top of Mickey’s head and says, “I love you.”

Mickey smiles softly, snuggling closer to Ian even though there’s no more space between them. “I know. I love you too,” Mickey says softly before kissing his chest. He falls asleep instantly, wrapped up in his husband's arms, feeling loved, safe, and at home.

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tomdiddlyumptious · 4 years

Text

A.R| Just cry Already

Summary: did arvin take you on a date- oop.

Warning: slight sexual tension, just a little tense, NOT SEXUAL- terrible flirt, and of course unedited

A/n: smack my ass like a drumb ✌️😌- YALL I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE ABOUT BEING LATE- IM HAVING A FEW PROBLEMS AND I HAVE TO RE WRITE THE SHIT I RIGHT BECAUSE IT SEEMS RUSHED!

Chapters -> one ✨ two 🤠 three ✨ four 🤠 five

Arvin isnt a stalker, he just wanted to know where you live, turns out just across the woods. Lenora called him ‘freakin crazy’ while his grandmother called him ‘in love’. He wants to sneak you out so he does, he grabs his coat and nicer pants, he cleaned himself up, brushed his hair back with some water and brushrd his teeth.

“She is gonna love you man” he says to himself in the mirror, after checking himself out. He grabbed his keys and headed out.

You on the other hnd were right awake, thinking about the preacher and how disrespectful he was. “God he just seems-“ you cut yourself off, you were honestly having the second hand embarrassment, how it is to be in his place.

“Im not falling in fucking love, hes a white boy god dammit” you murmured, the room dark and the door closed while you placed your hands under your ear, closing your eyes.

Until you heard a light knock.

You jumped as you looked out your window, a hat appearing as hands start to open the window, you quickly got up and grabbed your heel. You grabbed the foot of it and held the heel up.

“Oh shit- how hard can it be to open a damn window?” You hear youre guessing a man groan, you walk up to the window and see white hands, your first instinct is to pierce it but you soon realize who it is.

“Shit arvin you scared me! I almost put a whole in your hand!” You whisper yelled as you put down the heel softly to not wake anyone up. You grab his hands and let him inside, softly planting his feet on the ground and looking at you with his chocolate brown eyes that the moon shone on.

“Hey” he let out a chuckle as he looked at you. “My dad is gonna kill me and you, what do you want arvin?” You ask seriously, placing your hands on your hips and honestly missing your bed.

“I-uh wanted to take you on a date- as i said theres a drive through and a movie is playing” “is this your ticket to makeout with me?” “I mean no- but that would be nice” you sigh, then you hear wood creak. “Shit! In the closet- NOW” you whisper yell, pushing him to the closet and closing it, throwing yourself on the bed and under the sheets.

Your door opens as your eyes are wide open, your father entering. “Why are you up? And why is your window open?” “Its hot and my head hurts a bit” “not sneakin boys in here are ya?” He switches on the light looking around in your room. “Now why would i do that, dad?” You let out a giggle. “I dont know, i hope you know your my little girl and your never leaving, ever” he lets out rather harshly. Arvin crinkled his eyebrows and mentally added notes about your father, now understanding what you meant earlier.

You gulp and nod, not wanting to answer. He smiles and turns off the light, closing your door all the way shut before stepping off. Sooner or later the closet door opened with a smiling arvin.

“Get changed! We gotta go!” He whisper yells, you smack your lips and sigh in defeat before getting up and walking over to your closet. “Well you gotta get out!” You say, he raises an eyebrow in confusion “of my closet?” He lets out an ‘ohh’ before standing up and dusting his pants off.

You take out some of your brothers jeans, a tank top and some 2 inch black heels. “Arent women not aloud to wear pants?” “So you arent a feminist?” Arvin lets out a ‘pffft’ “of course i am, Especially for you” “oh shut up and let me change” it became awkward of course as you had to hide yourself from arvin.

Of course you didnt have a bra on, so when you took off your night gown your breats slapped on your stomach, arvin just leaning against the window seal with his arm as he watchs you without hesitation “you are such a creep, i can feel you staring at me” you comment. He only giggles as he watches your back move, your glowing back move to put your black tank top on.

You turn to him and meet his eyes “turn around arvin” “why?” “So i can take off i pants?” “O-oh yeah” you give a smile while he turns around, dropping your pants still facing him you grab the jeans and slide them on.

Arvin really wanted to see you, he knows you arent shapped like these others, he wants to touch and admire you everywhere, every flaw would be his favorite part, he just needed his fingers on you. “You almsot done-“ “look?” You ask, he immediately turns around and meets your dressed body, well you didnt button your pants all the way, he smiled as he looked at you up and down “gorgeous” he licks his lips. “Havent took me on the first date” you remind him making him roll his eyes silently.

You both sat in the car, music distantly playing as he had his hand on your thigh, looking at you for some moments while you looked straight ahead. He looked again and you caught him “what?” You giggle, making him smile and blush “your like, really beautiful- i hope you believe me” you bite your lip and shrug “i dont know just yet”.

He bought you the famous pineapple upside down cake and some Bees Knees, as you guys pulled up in the drive through. “Scary movie, classic move arvin” you rolled your eyes. He only laughed as he continued to look for a spot “do like them?” “Yeah i do, which one is this?” “Only the famous Nosferatu” “cool” he chuckled as he parked his Chevrolet Bel Air in one of the best spots.

“I hope you dont think your getting me tonight” you look at him while he sios his drink, he only shrugs “you dont know” he winks. You smirk but turn away from him as you turn on the radio to the right channel, hearing the movie you grabbed a fork and took a bite out of the pineapple-cake.

About an hour in he tried his best to flirt with you. “Hey y/n” he said, you turned to him as he picked up the same fork you had and took a bite, sexually. You sucked in your lower lip to keep you from laughing as he continued to eat it and make eye contact with you. And then he wasn’t expecting it, you started cackling.

He didn’t understand why as he made sure to lick the fork clean. You were out of breath as he rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw. “I-im so-sorry” you only started to laugh harder “b-but that! I cant-“ “whatever” “dont get mad at me, im sorry” you sucked in your laughs and patted his shoulder, giving a playful frown as he looked back at you with his lips tucked to the side.

“Im not mad, no need to apologize hun” “oh we’re doing pet names?” “I mean, yeah” “alright sweetcheeks” you said as he smacked his lips and couldnt fight the urge smile.

He turned off the radio and turned to you, you had your heels off showing your pretty piggies that arvin laughed at, he looked up at you and seen you smiling at him. “What?” He asks, his cheeks slowly heating up. “Youre beautiful arvin” you complement as his cheeks become scarlet. “Your too sweet” he says back, biting his lip to stop himself from grinning more “well tell me about yourself, will ya?”

“What do you wanna know?” You ask as you lean back, your lower lip popping out over your top. “Your favorite color, movie something like that?” “Well, i like F/C my favorite movie is F/M my favorite food is F/F and i love rainy and cloudy days” “how come?” “My little brother, and because they are relaxing” you sigh and give a small smile.

“Well i like red, i dont really have a favorite movie? I love my grandmas cooking so i also dont have one, but i like sunny days- even though we rarely get those” he chuckles, you place your hand on top of his “how nice” you grin.

“I-i feel so embarrassed- about in church- god” he groans. “Dont be arvin- i dont care and nobdy else does- well i dont mean it like that but you know-“ “yeah” he sighs, relaxing a bit as his legs slightly open, his elbow on the ontop of the closed window as he rested his head on his cheek.

You felt happy but sad, you dont want him to feel that way at all, nobody deserves it, not even the racists deserve it. “Look let go of it, it was a moment and you are moving on” “you say that like it was a week ago” “oh well, arvin”

“So you snuck out last night?” Cloudy asks again for clarification, you look at him annoyed but nodded. He chukcled as he shuck his head “ what?!” You ask, slapping his arm as you guys walked down to the lake for a bit.

“Dad is gonna fucking kill you, do you even like this boy?” “We went in one date! And it was nice, we actually have an emotional connection” “how much?” He asks looking at you. “We talked the whole movie through” “i swear if he-“ “calm the hell down cloudy” you giggle, he only rolls his eyes as he huffs.

“I hope you know no one is gonna be happy” “well I guess im thankful for you” you wrap your arm around his arms, holding his shoulder in your hand and rubbing it some as he chukles. “How was school by the way?” You ask suddenly, he only shrugs as he looks at his moving feet “talk to me cloud”. “I seen lenora around and stuff” “did you talk to her?” “No” you sigh as you shake your head in disappointment.

“Well get out of your comfort zone- do something” you raise your eyebrow at him, slightly annoyed. “And who are you to tell me what to do?” He says, cocking the same eyebrow. “I am your sister, your older sister- the one who-“ “changed my diapers” cloudy mocks, already knowing what you were gonna say.

“Exactly, although we might not be able to do a whole lot of things that doesnt mean we cant bend the rules just a bit, right?” You give him a small smile as he chuckles “you are the exact opposite of dad” “i know- thats why you love me so much” you giggle as you take your hand from his shoulder and start walking normally side by side.

“Hey y/n?” Cloudy asked after a few minutes of silence, he looked at you as you hummed and told him to continue,” you know how you promise me and mom that youre gonna take us out of here?” You looked at him and nodded.

“Do you ever rethink it? Or even think about leaving us?” He hesitated. “Well- i dont pray, i dont work, and i barely help anyone. So sometimes i do think about it- think about if we do get stuck here, if we dont leave and if we are gonna stay miserable” “so yes?” You nod and poke your lower lip out.

“But when you saved lenora- do you think that god seen that as a good sign for you?- like arvin is a good sign?” He asks curiously, you only shrug and bite the side of your lip. “Are you telling me your believing in god now cloud?” You ask him. “I mean- he did make this earth right?”

You stop dead in your tracks and he follows turning to you as you put your hands on his shoulders and gives them a squeeze, making cloudy groan but pay attention. “Look here- i dont care that you belive in god- but what you wont do is put faith in that god damn preacher, ya hear?” You say sternly.

You were never really serious when you talked with cloud, you had no reason to be hard or hate him. Hes your younger brother after all right? But he knew when you gave him those talks he needed to agree, he always puts faith in you and believes what you say because your really all he has.

Dad is manipulative- whatever mom said to him was because dad told her to. When you were young you barely listened so he kinda gave up on you, so when cloudy was born you took him under your wing because you utterly refused for him to be brain washed by the asshole of a dad. Why did your mother even get with your dad? Because she was desperate and vulnerable.

She killed her brother, on purpose. Your uncle is sick- was sick. He tried to touch your mom also- to all the black folks she was the prettiest girl in the small town- and your father took advantage of it. Your mother was always a free woman and doesnt like to be trapped, but as she got older she grew tired and just gave up- just listened- it meant less work for her anyway.

He nodded “yes ma’am”. You give him a weak smile as you find yourself next to the river already. You heard giggles and the water waves as pictures flashed, then a strong punch. You silently slapped your brother as you told him to get down, both crouching knowing you had to get out of there.

“I want you to go the car cloud” you whisper at him, crawling ahead and turning to the bushes, slightly getting a view of the people- of course white people.

“Im not leaving you y/n-“

Shots fired.

“Get your dumbass to to the fuckin car NOW!” You whisper yell, cloud stunned but quickly taking the keys from you and running to the car. You start crawling more and see an old man, well mid-30s with a camera around his neck and a women fixing herself- and of course a dead man bare naked with bloody coming from between his legs.

You sat there, shaking, your hand making its way up to cover your mouth, your eyes widening with shock as they started to take care of it.

Now you knew better then to report it because it only meant bad for you, but what happend- what you just saw is absolutley horrible. You only froze and continued to watch almost forgetting about cloudy, you look back at the parked cars and back at the couple your guessing- but they’ve disappeared.

You took your chance now to run back to the car, lifting your pink dress and running in those combat boots. You saw cloudy basically mesmerized- paying no attention as he just looked ahead- the keys already in and the car started as you just drove away.

Taggie! @jeyramarie

#tom holland x reader #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x black!reader #tom holland x black!reader #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x you #jb writes

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honney-boy · 4 years

Text

Best Thing You Never Had (part one)

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x Reader ,

Reader x Topper Thornton

gif by→ @sci-fi

WORD COUNT: 5.7k+

Summary: You're dating Topper; lately the relationship has been a bit rocky but you guys can get through it right? You also meet the pogues, and begin hanging out with them, especially JJ when the others weren't around. Being around both boys makes your head spin, and as it turns out, they're both the best thing you never had.

Warning: fluff, angst-ish, underage-smoking + drinking, mentions of implied smut

Request: yes by @jjxobx

A/N: Sorry again for taken so long to get this up but here it is! I got carried away and ended up splitting this request into a couple of parts.

if you want to be tagged in any of my work, send me an ask or message me! taglist is at the bottom of the fic :)

The sun sat high and bright in the sky. Blue skies with a gentle breeze, but it felt like a hotbox. Your dark sunglasses shielded your eyes from the bright light, but even with your tank top and denim shorts, the rays still heated your skin, leaving it warm and sticky.

Unamused and bored, you sat on the short rough grass of the golf course at the Island Inn Resort. Home and the heart of the country club, your parents insisted on paying a lot of money for memberships just for four people. The place wasn’t all that bad; there were plenty of things you could do. There was a tennis court, a pool, a gym, and other group activities. Still, some members embraced the stereotype of the luxurious lifestyle, flaunting the money, and being snooty. Some members had kids you went to school with, and you hated them just as much as their parents even though all your parents were friends.

You really shouldn't have come with him, or the other things you did with him after the fight you two had last night. It was another stupid fight that started out as a playful banter when he was taking you home. It escalated to the two of you yelling at the top of your lungs once someone said the wrong thing that got the other irritated, you getting out the car and deciding to walk yourself home. That didn't settle with him either. He ended up convincing you to get back in the car - really your feet were beginning to hurt - and took you home where he came in, and you two spent the next two hours forgetting about what you were fighting about.

You let your head fall back, and a sigh left your lips while closing your eyes and listened to what was around you. You could hear the water splashing along the shore, a little chatter from others on the course in different areas, and the frequent smack of a golf club hitting the hard rubber ball across the green. You wanted to be anywhere than here right now. You wanted to have a beach day and hang out by the water. Even hanging in your pool sounded nice, but you were being a nice girlfriend and came to the country club because your boyfriend asked you too.

He could pretend that the fight didn't happen, but you were over his recent nitpicking.

The sound of little laughter pulled you back and drew your attention away from the sun.

"Hey babe, this one is for you," Topper said, pointing a finger at you and his face serious. Rafe rolls his eyes while standing next to him and mimics Topper with a different pitched voice.

"" Hey babe, this one is for you." don't dedicate an air shot to her," Rafe said, walking around Topper so he could get a better view of where his putt would go. Topper scoffs, shaking his head at his friend, but decides to not pay him much attention as he turns to look at you again. Though he could see your face, he couldn't see your eyes past your dark sunglasses, which means he didn't catch your eye roll. You held your hand up, hiking your thumb, and adding a smile to show you heard him and appreciated the gesture. But to top it all off, you cheered him on.

"You got this, babe! Hit the ball in the hole for me," Your words seemed to brighten Topper's spirit before he turned around. Rafe snickered at your lack of knowledge with golfing terms, but he knew you didn't really care too much for it. Topper fixes his posture, positions his feet shoulder lengths apart, relaxes his body, and concentrates on the ball for a few seconds before swinging his club. The hit sent the ball a few feet in the air, landing on the ground with a few bounces then rolling the rest of the way to the hole. All three eyes watched the ball slowly draw closer to the hole, catching the edge and circling its shape a few times before finally landing in the cup.

"Ha eat that." overjoyed, Topper threw his hands in the air, a grin set on his lips as he looked from you to Rafe.

"Yeah, yeah, nice back door putt, but I can do better."

"Okay hotshot, I want to see you try."

"Alright then, let's move on up so I can show you how much better at golf I am than you." Rafe grabbed his bag containing his other clubs and balls, leading the way to the next part of the course. Topper doing the same, took ahold of his stuff but made his way over to you and held out his hand. You graciously take his hand, letting him help you off of the ground. You felt his fingers lace through yours as he pulled you both in the direction of Rafe.

He turned his head to look at you, "Did you see that play?" he asked you, and you smiled, pulling yourself closer to him and nodded. "For a minute, I thought the ball would decide not to go in—you know you should let me teach you how to play."

"I don't golf, tennis is more my sport," you say. You reach for your glasses and lift them to sit on your head; you glance at Topper, seeing him still look at you smiling.

"I know you don't, but I still want to teach you," You arched a brow giving him a hesitant look but still shook your head lightly. "Oh come on, Y/n, don't you trust me? I promise I won't set you up for failure." He gave you a little nudge with his shoulders, hoping to win you over. You knew that if you didn't at least let him try, he would be bugging you about it for the rest of the afternoon, and you surely wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, not like you were anyway.

"Fine, you can teach me your golfing ways," you reluctantly agree. Here you go deciding to do something with Topper again even though you should be mad at him, but you were irritated with yourself that you gave in to him quickly. Topper grinned even more at you.

"You'll be learning from the best," you force another smile on your face, and the two of you walk across the fairway to the next tee. Since Rafe walked ahead of you guys, he made it to the next tee and began setting up for his turn. You were too focused on getting to the next area that you didn't notice that Topper stopped; you only figured that out when you got pulled back with your hand still entangled with his.

You glance back at him, the grin on his face is gone, and his cheery mood is replaced with a serious one. "What's wrong with you?" he asks and pulls you closer to him. "I know there's something up, so don't say there isn't anything wrong." He knew you too well, you couldn't say he never paid attention.

"Nothing is wrong-" he gives you a look, but you continue. "-it's just a bit hot out today." you shrug your shoulders half-heartedly and pull his hand to get him to start walking again. "Come on, let's not have Rafe wait on us all day." He didn't budge, his eyes were still set on you.

"Is it because of the fight we had? I thought we were past that, we made up," You turn away from him, wanting to drop his hand but you didn't. You took a deep breath, faced him again, and shook your head.

"I know we made up Topper, it's not that," you answer and tug on his hand once more, and this time he did move, so you took that as a sign to continue walking to where Rafe was.

"Then what is it? I can tell something is bothering you, we've been together for a while. You gotta give me more credit than that."

"I know that that's why I see no point in lying to you," You see Rafe almost done setting up for his next turn, which ushered you to pick up your guy's pace. "So please believe me when I say there's nothing wrong." Topper stopped in his tracks, which caused you to stop once again. You whipped around, ready to snap at him for not believing you and keeping up with his stubbornness, you saw it in his face, but his words threw you off.

"Okay, I believe you," He meant it, and you knew it, though his eyes said something else, you knew he was sincere with his words. "I'm sorry."

You stepped closer to him and stood up, kissing his cheek. You flashed a smile once you stepped back. Topper smiled back, it was almost sweet, but when his hands wrapped around your arms, it stopped you from dwelling. And then he kissed you.

"Hey, you two, we're supposed to be golfing, not sucking each other's faces off." Rafe sounded a bit annoyed, but you both knew he didn't give a shit.

You pulled away first, patting Topper's bicep and stepping back. "Well, you have a bet to foresee and some lessons to teach." He held your gaze for a split second, nodded his head and walked over to Rafe, and stood next to him.

Rafe was right, he did better than Topper, and he wasn't going to hear the end of it. You knew you wouldn't either, along with the future constant complaining of your boyfriend. But now, it was your turn at attempting to be a golfer.

"Alright, it's pretty easy. Just uh, line up to your target..." Topper took his club—shifting on both of his feet to get into his stance. He glanced up at you for a second and then focused back down on the club. "Nice, easy backswing." moving his arms a bit, he tapped the ball twice with the club, and the third time he went full swing and hit the ball. You both watch the ball fly in the air, bounce a few times, and roll into the hole. "And voila. That's the basics of the swing."

You ready yourself by grabbing a ball - Topper had already gotten you a club - and kept repeating Topper's instructions in your head. Line up to your target, Was his feet shoulders width apart or just a little bit? You stood where he had lined your ball, standing on the same side of the ball you saw him stand and with a deep breath, you tried your best to remember his instructions and went for it. You swung at the club and felt the melt slip right through your fingers.

You wince seeing it land some feet away, turning to look at Topper, the corners of your mouth turn down with a pout. "Did you see that I suck." Topper smiled, finding your pouting state cute, it even brightened his poor mood.

Shaking his head, he grabbed another club by Rafe - who had a massive grin on his face at your feeble attempt, he and you both knew he would tease you about it later - handed it to you. "No, you're new to this, it'll take some practice, I promise you'll get better," he says.

"I highly doubt that this is why I play tennis."

"Yeah, and I like watching you play," he said with a smirk and moved to stand behind you. You began situating yourself - rolling your eyes at your boyfriend and his boyish ways.

"You only like to look at me with a tennis skirt on." You said in a matter of fact tone, which made his smirk grow.

"Hey, what can I say, my girl looks good in a skirt," you playfully huff at his comment; you stood in your previous stan, lining the club with the ball ready to swing but hands on your hips distract you.

"Hands to yourself, Thorton."

"I'm not trying anything," he says through an airy chuckle. "I'm helping you fix your stance." His hands stayed on your hips as he got closer to you; close enough, you could practically feel his body heat. He put his left leg in between yours and used his foot to spread your feet apart. "It helps if your feet our about shoulders widths apart,"

"Shoulders width apart, got it." Topper moved his arms around you until his hands were on top of your own gripping the club. Not only was your back to his chest, but you could feel his breath against your neck; when he spoke to you, you shivered as a chill went down your spine.

"You're gonna want to look at your target first. Imagine the ball going toward it till it lands - or rolls - into it," all you could do was nod as you gazed at the hole. "Then look at your ball-" your eyes quickly move down to the highlighter yellow rubber ball at your feet. "-take a deep breath while your mind imagines you making a putt. What I like to do is take my club and ready my swing with small taps on the ball." Topper, with his hands on yours, moved yours back a bit and then forward to tap the ball, he did it two more times before he spoke again. "After taking a deep breath, I relax and give my club a full swing like so," He pulled your arms back a bit further this time, and you both swung your arms forward, only missing the ball since he was simulating how it should go. "Think you got it this time?" he asked, moving his arms from around you but kept his hands on you.

"Yeah, think so," you mumbled, and he took a step back.

"Alright, let's see what you got."

You loosen up a bit, keeping your feet shoulders width apart and took a deep breath. You had this, if you made it, maybe you wouldn't have to play golf with them. You look over your shoulder at the boys, both of them waiting for you. Rafe looked like he wanted you to hurry up, and Topper just sent you a smile, which you returned. Turning back, you eyed the hole, imagined the ball flying in the air, and then rolled until it fell into the hole. You looked at the ball, doing what Topper did - tapping the ball three times with the club - and then when you got ready to swing, you drew back your arm and swung as hard as you could, keeping the grip you had on the club.

"Holy shit Top, Y/N did better than you!"

You get out of the car, grab your bag you had packed, and walk toward the water. You scan the beach - hand held up to your eyes, blocking the sun - looking for your bubbly blonde friend. You catch her running out of the water, being chased by a guy with a severe tan and shaggy brown hair - that had to be John B, the guy you hear so much about. You smile, watching him wrap his arms around her waist, making her laugh with the biggest smile on her face. You didn't want to ruin their moment, but she was expecting you to come.

After hitting a 'perfect putt' as Rafe referred to it as you were super proud of yourself that you couldn't help but tease your boyfriend about being better. He called it beginners luck, he was just too bitter about it, but you didn't care. At some point, while the boys were playing, Sarah sent you a text asking you to come to hang out with her and a few others at the beach. You gladly accepted the invitation and let Topper and Rafe know you were going to go see Sarah. Rafe didn't care, and if Topper did, he didn't voice it or show it. He told you to have fun, be safe, and gave you a kiss on the cheek before you left. You headed to your house first to grab a suit just in case. When you get to the beach, you see a handful of people scattered along the sand and in the water. At first, when you left Topper, you felt bad because he wanted to spend time with you. It was sweet of him, but you know he's only kissing butt because he was trying to get you to not be mad at him, but leaving the club and coming to the beach was the right decision.

"Hey Sarah," you called out to her. You pulled the attention of a few people on the beach, but she didn't seem to hear you, so you cupped your hand around your mouth and called her name again a little louder. "Sarah!" She turned away from John B, her eyebrows pulled together as she looked around. You wave your arms around, which finally grabbed her attention; she pulled away from John B, said something quickly to him, and ran toward you.

"You made it!" she beamed and pulled you into a tight hug. "I thought Topper would never let you go," You give her a squeeze and pull away enough that just your arm is around her waist, and she left an arm around your shoulders; you didn't really care if she got you wet.

"He almost didn't. After that fight last night, he hasn't really let me leave his side,"

"Now you see why I left him," You gave her a side glance, one she missed while waving toward the group of people a few feet away around what looked to be an unlit fire pit in the sand. "Hey guys, this is y/n, the friend I was talking about. Y/n this is the gang, Pope and Kiara," she gestured to a guy with a tan hat that sat backward on top of his head. Though he was sitting down, you could guess that he was a decent height - taller than you, of course - his skin was dark brown, and he was toned. Then she moved to the girl that sat next to him, Kiara. She had long wavy dark hair; her skin was a strong brown-red that was sun-kissed and warm. Kiara gave you a small smile while Pope gave you a little wave. "And John B, you already know." John B took two of his fingers and gave you a salute.

You met John B a while back when you went to bother Sarah when you were bored and didn't want to be bothered by Topper. When you got to her house, the one place you knew she would be - if not outside - was in her room. What you didn't expect to see was a pair of broad shoulders hovering over your really good friend's small frame. It was awkward, to say the least.

Your eyes move over to the last person she hadn't introduced yet. He had sandy blonde hair, a hat on his head backward like Pope, his skin sun-kissed like Kiara and a pair of sunglasses to top off the surfer boy vibe he was giving. Even with the sunglasses on, you could feel his eyes on you, and his gaze was almost intimidating. "And this is JJ." Sarah finished. You could finally put a name to the face, but as soon as his name fell from her lips, he moved his attention to the ocean. It bothered you when it shouldn't have, but you hated when others weren't polite.

You just smile, keeping your arms crossed. "It's nice to meet you guys; hope I'm not intruding your hang out."

"Oh, no, you're not intruding. The more, the merrier," Kiara said. "Don't just stand there, come sit with us, we don't bite." She waved you over, scooting away from Pope to make room from you, which you thanked her with a smile.

"JJ might," Pope jokes, JJ tilts his head back, probably rolling his eyes.

"Haha, funny. Better watch it before I bite you,"

"Oh, kinky," Sarah teased.

"Bet that does get a rise out of you." John B added with a snicker.

"Bet that does for you too; you and Sarah don't hide those hickies very well. That bandana isn't fooling anyone." Pope and Kiara let out a course of 'ohs' and Pope whistled, and you joined in with a muffled laugh covered by your hand.

You guys carry on with the conversation, all light-hearted and entertaining, staying on a topic no longer than ten minutes, not counting the 30-minute discussion about if F.r.i.e.n.d.s or That 70s Show was better. You liked That 70s show the most, and Pope agreed with you while Sarah, John B, and Kiara loved F.r.i.e.n.d.s, and JJ liked both shows. You liked hanging with pogues, you could finally see why Sarah liked them too. They kept you in the conversations, easing the awkwardness at the beginning; you were chiming in. That's what it seemed like, and you hoped you were. Even though you were included in the conversations—every once in a while, Kiara would say something to you, Pope would ask you a question. John B would ask for your opinion, and Sarah answered for you sometimes—it didn't take you long to figure out JJ hadn't said anything to you. He just chimed in when it seemed best, laughed when something funny was said, but he didn't ask you questions or ask for your opinion. You usually didn't mind if someone never said anything, but that made you feel weird after it came to your attention, it was like JJ chose not to say anything. When you did speak, you'd see from your peripheral that he was looking at you, you even caught his gaze, but he always averted his eyes.

You guys had been talking and hanging out for a few hours, and you knew that because the sun had set and the moon began to slowly rise in the sky. At some point, Pope had gotten up and lit the small bonfire you guys sat around, and like the other times before, the topic had changed.

Through some laughs over something dumb, JJ said, Kiara took a drink of one of the beers passed to her. After her laughter died down a bit, she asked everyone: "Okay, okay, so if anyone of you were on Fantasy Island, what would be your fantasies?" It was definitely an interesting question, and one you - all of you had to think about. Sarah decided she would go first, immediately, piping up with her fantasy.

"If I were on the island, I would wish for my future home to be an animal rescue. I'd live by the water, saving baby turtles and sea life with my rescue dogs running around enjoying their life."

"That's so cute, I can see you doing that in real life anyway. Make it a reality Sarah," you say, and some of the others nodded their head agreeing with you. John B pulled Sarah closer in his side, kissing her on her forehead and mumbling something to her, which caused her to smile. After Sarah, it ended up being Pope's turn, and his fantasy was to be a successful man, and with that success, he wanted to take care of the people he loved. He would get his parents a house in the figure eight - Pope knew his dad would never leave the island he was born and raised on - he would pay their bills, and the rest would go toward black-owned businesses that need it.

John B wanted his own boat business where he built and repaired boats for others or sell. On top of that, he would have a little surf shop where he crafted surfboards for tourons to rent, or for the ones who wanted to get their own. "I want everyone who gets a board for me to have a great experience, and if someone is buying their first—ever surfboard, I want to be the one to give them their first."

Kiara wanted to live through her favorite decades. Experience the music, styles, compelling, and peace movements of the '60s and '70s. Live through the time where iconic musicians like Freddie Mercury, Mariah Carey, TLC, Tupac, Micahel Jackson, Aaliyah, and more were in their prime. But if she had another choice, she wouldn't mind being the first woman and woman of color president. You loved both of their fantasies, they were empowering and selfless. Both Kiara and Pope, even Sarah, wanted to make the world a better place or live through experiences that haven't lived before. Heck even John B wanted to make an impact. Their fantasies put yours to shame, they could turn theirs into a reality.

When it was finally your turn, you didn't answer right away, and to the others, you looked like you were still thinking about your fantasy, but you already knew it. Your fantasy was a bit silly, but maybe you could think of a cover like a self-owned business idea like John B's. Or a world and local changing influence like Kiara, Pope, and Sarah. "Well, this may sound weird, but it's a fantasy right, so who cares," you started off, lifting your shoulders in a shrug. "If I were on Fantasy Island, I would bring back my childhood best friend Chewie; he was the family dog. Chewie and I would live on an island in Greece where everyone knew each other, loved each other, sang and danced their hearts out." Hearing yourself describe your fantasy caused you to laugh as if it were a real fantasy. "Basically, I'd live with my dead—but an alive dog in the movie Mamma Mia."

Kiara tilted her head with a thoughtful look. "That is definitely one fantasy, but i really like its sound." she pulled her lips into a grin, laughing softly and slightly buzzed. Some time ago, JJ had lit a blunt, and it was being passed around.

You smile and shake your head at Kiara, you agreed with her, you had one hell of a fantasy, but it's something you always wanted. Sarah joined in and giggled along with Kiara. She leaned forward, passing the blunt to JJ, then laid her head back on John B's shoulder. "I miss Chewbacca, he was a good pup," she mentioned, her words making you smile more significant, and you couldn't agree more.

"You are right about that."

"Wait, you named your dog after a Star Wars character?" John B questions; you nod and from the corner of your vision, JJ offering the blunt to Pope but, he shook his head. JJ just shrugged and took another few hits of it.

Still looking at John B, you answer: "Yeah, my dad and older brother are huge Star Wars fans, and they got me hooked on it at a young age. Chewie was a big dog with curly brown hair like Chewie, and at four years old, he looked like the Wookie copilot. Can you really blame me?"

John B chuckled and shook his head. "I guess I really can't."

JJ leaned forward, already knowing it was his turn to speak. He inhaled the smoke of the blunt and held it out for you and tilted his head toward it. "Wanna take a hit?" You looked at him with round eyes, caught off guard by him, finally saying something to you. But just as quick as it happened, you blinked a few times and reached for it only for him to pull it from you. "Have you ever smoked?" You wanted to roll your eyes

"Yes, I've smoked before JJ," you replied, with an unamused face. "Now, give it here."

Huffing out a short laugh, JJ let you take hold of the blunt. "Alright, chill out, no need to get serious and demanding." He was shocked that you have actually smoked. Sarah mentions you here and there when she was around them and not once had anything she said about you hinted at such actions. You were good, you weren't rebellious like Sarah or outspoken; JJ assumed you were a goodie two shoes, and he still thinks it. Maybe you could change his mind. He watched you place the blunt to your lips, draw in the smoke, then take a deep breath to let it take over your lungs.

He tore his eyes away before you looked at him, and when he looked at the others, they two were impressed at how well you handled it. You hadn't choked like Sarah did her first time. "Let's see, if I were on Fantasy Island and granted a fantasy, I'd want unlimited days to chill with my friends and have tons of Mary Jane, beer, and some waves. Probably use some of that time to find my true self, do some more things I love, learn something new, fall in love if it comes," he lifted his shoulders in a half shrug and sat forward on his elbows. "That's all."

"And what if something goes wrong like John B goes crazy and has black gooey crap come out of his eyes because, I don't know, he went crazy." Pope picked at the fire with a stick he found while gathering wood earlier in the day. Pope had a good point. Fantasy Island was known for its fantasy granting and the dark and twisted reality that comes out of it.

"I'll throw 'em in the water, problem solved," JJ replied, as you passed to Kiara.

"Here, Kie."

"Well, if he comes at you with a weapon, would you still throw him in the water?" Pope asked.

"Duh, and I'd run, it's a basic human instinct," JJ said like it was the most obvious thing in the world to do. All those horror movies you've seen only supported his answer; all the people seemed to stay and try to figure out what the noise was or trip on thin air, giving the killer a chance to get them.

"JJ does have a point," John B Spoke. Clapping his hands together, he threw in another question for the group to go around and answer. "Alright, in your opinion, what's the best pizza topping slash pizza?"

Sarah's expression lit up at the question. "Good pizza, that's the best pizza."

"That doesn't answer the question, Sarah."

"She's stoned, let her be, "Kiara said through a chuckle. "Hmm, to me, the best pizza is veggie pizza."

John B shook his head "Veggie pizza is alright but not the best. The best topping is cheese." JJ made a disgusted face, one John B frowned at because he noticed. Pointing at him, he says: "Dude, I'm telling you, the best pizza is cheese pizza."

JJ scoffed, clearly not liking his friend's choice. "John B shut the hell up, cheese is the most disgusting flavor of pizza ever,"

"Well, without cheese, is it really pizza?" Kiara wondered aloud, causing you and Sarah to giggle at the thought.

"Whatever," JJ brushed you guys off. "We all know the best pizza is pepperoni pizza." you pretend to gag. To add dramatics, you lean forward as if contents we're coming out onto the ground. You earned an eye roll from the blonde and giggles from Kiara and Sarah, even a soft chuckle from Pope.

"For a dude that smokes, you have horrible taste."

He frowned, offended by what you said, "What is that supposed to mean? I have an amazing taste."

"It means your taste is bad once you're high. I don't know about you, but when I have the munchies, I mix stuff that tastes amazing. Like for example, the best pizza, Hawaiian." JJ's face scrunched up; Pope thought about it but ultimately agreed with you that Hawaiian was a good type of pizza, he wouldn't say it was the best, but he had his opinions, and you had yours.

"Never had Hawaiian, you'll have to introduce it to me, "Kiara confessed while gazing into the fire until she peeped up at you. You grinned and nodded already planning possible days for you two–even Sarah–to meet up and hang out so you can make them your homemade Hawaiian pizza.

"Definitely! Just let me know when and we can plan a hangout."

John B cut in, letting his thoughts out. "I think I tried it once...I don't think I liked it."

"Yeah, you did, I was there, and you kept throwing pineapple at me—which by the way, pineapples do belong on pizza." You all grew at JJ's response, Pope even pretended to hold back hurl.

"JJ, man, just stop."

"I agree with Pope and acknowledge my previous statement: "For a dude that smokes, you have a horrible taste"." You say to the blonde boy across from you.

"You don't even know me, so how would you know what my taste is?" Whether he meant it to sound the way it did, you didn't miss the irritation in his voice. You were only joking, but you guess he took it to heart. Before you could say something else, John B leaned forward, tapping JJ on the arm, gesturing to the blunt before speaking up.

"Chill JJ, no need to be hostile, this is supposed to be an enjoyable hangout, just enjoy it, "JJ grumbled something you couldn't really hear from where you sat, but you didn't make a fuss about it. He just sat back in one of the fold chairs the group brought and took the blunt back from John B, smoking the rest. For the rest of the night, you guys continued talking and laughing, even going for a swim in the water. You liked hanging with the pogues, and you also admitted it to Sarah when you dropped her off at home after you guys were done hanging out. She even asked what you thought of everyone–disregarding John B because you had already met him–and you weren't lying when you said you enjoyed their company, you would totally hang with them again if you could, and they didn't mind. You knew right, then Kiara would be a close girl friend like Sarah, and the boys would be like brothers, but when it came to JJ, your mind wondered. You wanted to know more about him, you weren't sure why but that boy intrigued you.

Taglist :)

#outer banks imagine #outer banks netflix #outerbanks #obx #obx fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj x y/n #jj imagine #kiara carrera #topper thornton #topper thorton x reader #topper thorton imagine #pope heyward #john b routledge #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #pogues x reader #obx pogues

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chilly-me-softly · 4 years

Text

Sad Eyes • Chapter 7

Chapter 1 Chapter 4 Chapter 2 Chapter 5 Chapter 3 Chapter 6

Tag: @emwritesfootball @alexajanecollins

So even this is coming to an end. Thank you for being with me for this too, I appreciated it so so much. Hope you enjoyed it as much as myself x

Leon sits in the chair and lets a guy fix his microphone for the upcoming interview. His eyes meanwhile move over the pool a few meters from where he is, those steady waters have the power to suck some of his tension, always. No matter how long it's been since he first set foot in a pool. Of course to completely calm down he would have to dive in, feel the water around his body, but he knows that wouldn't be a good idea right now, someone would definitely want his head.

The person who has to interview him arrives shortly afterwards, sitting in front of him and immediately asking him how he feels. He already knows him, has already had a few interviews with him on some other occasion and feels very comfortable. But interviews have never been really his thing, luckily it's not live.

"Well ladies and gentlemen, last time our guest was on our platform he promised that after the Europeans Championship he would come back and tell us about his experience. And it's an honour for me today to welcome gold medallist Leon Chilwell"

"That's right, every promise is debt" the boy smiles, slightly shifting his position on the chair.

"And you brought the medal, let me see" the older one tries to lighten the atmosphere as the boy hands it to him, the pride evident in his eyes and smile.

"I don't think I've even taken it off to go to sleep these last few days" he admits giggling.

"It's quite an achievement" the man agrees, and he nods taking it back and looking at it in disbelief for a few seconds before putting it back around his neck.

"How do you feel now? I remember less than a few weeks ago, before the contest started, you were a bundle of nerves"

Leon giggles, he remembers it very well. His first major competition, everyone counting on him having bet on his talent. He a little fish suddenly thrown into a tank full of sharks but ready to give his all.

"Hasn't really changed much, if I'm honest. I have this medal weighing down my neck but I still can't believe it, it's still all a dream I don't want to wake up from at the moment" he sincerely admits and the man nods.

"Have you had a chance to watch your performance these days?" the man asks, crossing one leg over another, the folder in his hand is placed on this one.

"Actually not yet, it's all so hectic. I don't think I've stopped to think properly yet"

"Well let me tell you, you've earned that one" the interviewer points to the medal and Leon is sure to be blushing if only slightly as he murmurs a faint thank you.

"I saw in the interview just after the award ceremony that you dedicated it to your parents"

"Yeah, I owe them everything. My first thought went to them when I realized what had happened, it's a small thing to repay them for believing in me and for the sacrifice they have made and of course continue to make"

"Sorry for the question, I think they'll make you one like that in every interview, but what's the situation at home? How do you handle the different sports?"

"Well obviously it's a mess" the reporter giggles, "kidding, you know I've always been a very thoughtful kid. Admit that I didn't like playing football, at the time it was hard, so let alone 'betray' it for another sport" Leon pauses to catch his breath and put his thoughts in order, while it seems that moments of his childhood are coming back alive in his mind.

"I remember going to practice and then begging mom to take me to the game because I didn't want to disappoint dad, and I ended up falling asleep exhausted in her arms"

"In my head I was convinced that it would separate us, actually if I'm honest it only brought us closer together. Dad never expected anything from me, my happiness was enough for him, and when I understood that and put aside all my insecurities, we learned together"

"It's a beautiful thing" he nods smiling, "and then anyone who follows you on socials can see how proud he is of you"

"Yeah, now I know. And I'm of him too, of everything he's done as a player and everything he's still doing as a coach"

"What about an advice he gave you? Just because he's been on both sides as either player or coach now"

"Well let's just say, like any athlete, I always tend to push myself and get so angry when things don't go as I want them to. He took me aside one day and told me I was wasting my energy. 'Your mind must be like a wave breaking on the sand, erase what you've written so hardly so you can start all over again'"

"Leon, it's been a pleasure having you here with us. I really hope you have a wonderful career and we can meet again on other occasions"

"I hope so, too" Leon smiles before the cameras go off and while the techs sort things out, he exchanges a few more words with the interviewer before he leaves.

And finally he returns home after hectic days, his family waiting for him to finally spend some time with him without anyone calling him here and there for commitments he has to attend to.

"I'm home!" he says from the door, surprised that no one has yet run into his arms.

"Is anyone there?" he asks curiously, and a smile forms on his face when he hears his sister's little laugh coming from a short distance. Before he hears little footsteps and the little girl runs towards him.

"Leon!" she dives up against his legs and he giggles, picking her up and kissing her. It seems like yesterday that his parents told him he would become an older brother, and now that little girl is the apple of his eye. He didn't think he would be able to share his parents or his space - he had already spent eleven years alone - but in the end he realized it was what he needed and would protect her forever.

"I've got something for you" he says by putting her down and digging into his bag to get the medal. He puts it around her neck just like in the ceremony that had seen him starring a few days earlier, and the little girl screams excitedly before running to show it to her parents.

He takes a few minutes to walk down that hallway, even though he knows it by heart. But it was as if that experience had made him come back slightly changed, with the awareness that his days in that house were coming to an end for the future that awaits him. And he wants to keep everything in his mind, every little detail.

"There he is, my baby!" his mother approaches to finally hold him in the right way, not quickly and without being able to feel his heart beating.

"Hi, mom"

"How was the interview?"

"Good, after a while they become repetitive" he shrugs, as much as he likes his talent to be recognized, he's never really liked being in the spotlight. But it's part of the game.

"That's what captains are for. Let's leave those on their lap"

"Sure, Coach Chilwell" Leon mocks him by making his father roll his eyes at him. The woman looks at them shaking her head, they couldn't be more alike really.

"So what are you playing with now, Dad's medal or Leon's?" Ben teases his little girl and she looks at him sitting on his legs.

"I can play with both! I can be the little mermaid with the ball" she says seriously and among the laughter, Ben leans over to give her a kiss on the head.

"You can be anything you want, my beautiful little girl"

Leon looks at his family with pride, he wouldn't change them for anything in the world. Those sad eyes stopped being there for a long time now.

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell imagines #football imagine #football imagines #my writing #original #sad eyes

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cagestark · 5 years

Note

Hi! Im not sure if you are taking prompts, but if not pls just ignore this (I LOVE YOUR STUFF ANYWAY UR GREAT ❤️❤️❤️) What about a PrisonInmate!Tony, PrisonInmate!Steve and PrisonInmate!Bucky all trying to get their hands on freshly employed Officer!Peter who was just trying to do his job. Smut? Shenanigans? Lots of good/bad/cheesy flirting? Anything would make me so happy!!!

Hope this works for what you wanted. I had a lot of fun, feel free to hop in my inbox and let me know if you’re satisfied. I tried working Steve in but :( still not very good at writing him. Bucky is a stretch for me, too. Did what I could though! Especially considering I scrapped what I had, wrote this in 10 hours, and didn’t even glance it over skskskks sorry for errors.

Warnings: some violence, smut, drugs. 7.5k. Peter is 22!

Read here on AO3!

The first time Tony meets Officer Parker, Tony is shackled at the waist and ankles to eleven other inmates from Lincoln Correctional Facility. He reaches up with bound wrists to scrub at his facial hair hoping that he isn’t as scruffy as he feels, eyeing the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed little twink who would be driving them twenty minutes to a nearby park There they would be giving restitution to society by picking up plastic soda bottles, cigarette butts, and used condoms from under the dugout benches at the baseball diamond. Thinking of the millions of dollars he stole from his father’s company (plenty of which was still offshore and safe), Tony figures that a week of this and his debt will be repaid. He and society can call it even.

“He’s green,” Bucky mutters from beside him. He tracks the younger man’s pale eyes to Officer Twink. “No question about it.”

“Hey Fury,” Tony says when the black officer goes by, doing a head count. He motions with his bound hands to Parker. “I didn’t know it was bring-your-white-child-to-work-day. Are his legs long enough to reach the pedals in the van? Does he have his permit? Where did you leave his Hot Wheels battery-powered jeep? Will we all fit in the back, because��”

“Pushing your luck,” mutters Steve from Tony’s other side, goody-fucking-two-shoes that he is.

Fury stops walking, actually doubles back to stand in front of him. “You want me to drag you out of line, Stark? You can spend the rest of your day inside washing dishes. Or in solitary, if you feel like being an asshole like usual. Don’t fucking test me,” Fury says. He’s a real hard-ass. Tony likes him well enough.

Beyond them, Officer Parker is blushing to beat the band having heard Tony’s criticism of him. “I’m twenty-two,” he mutters, and Tony nearly groans. Beside him, Bucky does groan. This kid is so, so fucking green. What kind of dummy correctional officer just spills personal information in front of convicted felons?

The harder inmates are going to eat him alive.

If Tony doesn’t eat him first.

“Twenty-two huh? When’s your birthday, sweetheart?” Tony calls. “I’ll drop a postcard in the mail for you—"

He hears the slide of chrome on leather as Fury draws his baton. Tony has just enough time to be thankful it’s not his taser before it is jabbing him in the chest. With his feet and wrists shackled, he has no real way to keep himself upright. He ends up sprawled ass first in the dirt. Steve and Bucky have to adjust to avoid falling themselves and likely taking the whole line down with them.

“Did you just threaten Officer Parker, Stark?” Fury asks, bending over him.

Tony squints up against the sun. “If my heartfelt affection is threatening, then—”

“One more word and you’re spending the week on D Block.” D Block is solitary confinement, and if there is anything more painful to Tony, he doesn’t know what it is. Being alone with his thoughts, no one there to fill the silence, walls so thick he can’t even hear the shouts from other inmates around him—it’s enough to drive him to the edge. He folds.

“Parker,” Fury barks. “Give me your keys. Stark isn’t coming on the field trip.”

“How else am I going to repay society?” Tony asks, holding up his wrists so Fury can unchain him out of the line. Fury doesn’t dignify him with an answer, and it’s probably for the best. Words tend to pour out of Tony’s mouth without thought even at the best of times. And he really isn’t looking for spending the first week of Officer Parker’s employment up on D Block getting his trays through the slot in the door.

While Fury undoes the locks with practiced ease, Parker stands back practically wringing his hands. He looks distraught, downright upset to be honest. When he catches Tony looking, the kid turns red and looks away. God. Fucking adorable.

Tony glances up at Bucky who is looking straight ahead with the smuggest fucking smirk. He winks at Parker and the kid literally has to turn away, probably before he has a stroke, because Bucky is a good-looking guy. And he’s going to spend the entire week, eight hours a day picking up trash while being supervised by Officer Twink.

“You lucky bastard,” Tony says to him.

“Bucky’s probably got him bent on all fours in one of the dugout’s right now,” Tony mutters unhappily around an unlit cigarette. They aren’t supposed to smoke inside—it’s against the rules, actually, not just frowned upon—but in times of anxiety, he likes the familiarity of it between his lips. He picks up his dealt cards from the table and glances at them: a straight. Not bad.

“Should have kept your mouth shut,” Toomes says from across the table. His joy at Tony’s dismay is poorly disguised behind his own hand. “That’d be you, right now. Picking up trash in Manhattan. The highlight of your day getting your dick sucked in a dugout littered with caramel corn and old wads of chewing gum. God, how the mighty fall.”

“Could be you right now, too,” Tony offers genially. “But those domestic violence charges mean you don’t even get the chance to go on field trips, huh?”

“Not to mention,” Rhodes says from beside him, a dark-skinned man with a generally unhappy face, and serious disposition. He was one of the only people on the block that Tony genuinely trusted—that sort of trust was hard earned. They’d even exchanged addresses so they could communicate after one or the other gets processed out. “No guard would risk their job for a suck job with you, Toomes.”

“Brutal,” Tony says, holding out his hand to shake Rhodes’s. “True, but absolutely brutal.”

“Thanks,” Rhodey says dryly. “Is someone going to call, or what?”

Toomes ends up storming off, leaving his hand flat on the table. When Tony flips it over, he only had one pair. Unfortunate bastard.

“He’s going to give you problems, Tony,” Rhodey says. His dark eyes are still tracking Toomes who is sulking across the floor back to his cell, where he stands in the doorway, scanning the room. “He’s not showing you respect, and he’s not meshing well with the block. It’s going to come to a head soon.”

“Is this foreshadowing?” Tony asks lazily.

Rhodey just stares.

Tony is dozing in his cell when a large form takes up the doorway. He slits his eyes open to see Bucky there, fresh from a shower with his jumpsuit half-undone and tied around his waist. The white wifebeater he wears shows off his arms, including the gnarly scars on his left shoulder from his last tour overseas. It clings to skin that is still a little wet, and Tony licks his lips.

“Hey snowflake,” he says, voice raspy. “Come to rub it in?”

Bucky sits cross-legged on the floor, back against the concrete wall. “His name is Peter. He graduated from the academy last May. This is his first job—if you don’t count the food joint he worked at as a kid. And his birthday is August tenth.”

Tony scoffs. “What, you didn’t get his social security number too? I’m disappointed. And I don’t believe you.”

Bucky holds up a scarred hand, solemn. “Swear on my tags.”

“How the hell could you have found out so much about the kid in a handful of hours? With Fury marching around no less.”

The smile that slides over Bucky’s face is so fucking handsome. Downright sensual. “Fury didn’t come. He was just there for headcount. It was Coulson escorting us with the kid. He spent the whole time sitting in the van with the AC and radio on, chainsmoking. You’re going to shit yourself, Tony. This kid is so fucking sincere and sweet—” Bucky throws his voice into what must be a poor impression of Peter’s trembling voice. “—thanks Mister Barnes, you’ve been so friendly. I’m glad my first day was spent with you.”

“Aww fuck. Goddamnit. Son of a bitch.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t worry, you’re going to get your chance. He told me today was just to break him in. Tomorrow? He’s on the block. And don’t worry, I put in a good word for you. My friend Tony, I said, he’s one of the most solid guys I know. Arrogant as fuck, but a sweetheart underneath the ten different layers of ego and narcicism.”

Tony’s eyes shut. His hands come together in a prayer position over his chest. “Oh thank you, sweet Jesus.”

“Thank me,” Bucky says, wiggling his eyebrows.

In the back of the cell is a curtain that can be drawn shut while an inmate uses the facilities. It’s where most sex happens during the daytime, when anyone is liable to walk by and glance into a cell. Tony jerks a thumb at it. “You want to see what lies behind curtain number one, Buck?”

“Sure. I’m feeling lucky.”

Showers open at dawn, and Tony is one of the first inmates there. He takes extra time soaping himself up in the lukewarm water. By the time trays are brought in, he is dressed with his hair combed. The tank top he wears is white as is required for all clothes that aren’t jumpsuits, and it looks good against his tanned skin. Tony looks fucking good for his age—which is somewhere past thirty and before fifty, thanks, don’t worry about it.

He’s halfway through a tray of biscuits and gravy with more-than-decent hash-browns when Officer Parker comes in, the door of the block screeching open. He’s escorted again by Coulson. They tend to keep senior officers with green ones, because it’s so easy for the new guys to fall prey to inmates, whether by manipulation, intimidation, or sheer manpower. Tony has seen it happen. Tony has caused it, himself. He didn’t end up as the top guy in the block by shaking hands and kissing ass.

Coulson points out things around the block: the cells (obvious), the showers, the cameras. Tony isn’t close enough to hear what’s being said, but he can imagine. Guards come in every hour during the day and every two hours at night to stroll around the block peaking into cells. Even when they aren’t a physical presence on the floor, they are always watching behind the cameras. That will be Peter’s job today: walking the floor. Every sixty minutes, he’ll walk right by Tony in his cute little dress blues. They look too clingy to be at all efficient, especially on Peter’s lithe little form, narrow hips barely able to support the holster on his waist.

Peter turns around and Tony gets a nice glimpse of his ass—God, he wants to bite it.

Bucky looks less enthusiastic today, hair pulled back into a wet bun, dark circles under his eyes. They’d slept in the same bunk last night, but when he’d awoken in the morning, Bucky had been gone. Nightmares, probably. “Now who’s the lucky bastard?” he mumbles around his fork.

Tony. Tony is the lucky bastard.

When Coulson and Peter go by, Tony calls out, face wearing a winning smile. “Good morning, officers.”

“Good morning,” Peter says sweetly. When he notices that it is Tony who spoke, his eyes double in size. Obviously, Tony has already made an impression. He plants his chin on his palm, elbow resting on the table, and lets his eyes rove over the green boy. Unashamed is his middle name.

“Inmate number one to watch out for, Parker,” Coulson says. But Tony thinks there’s a little affection underneath the vacant expression. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

“I’m hurt, Phil,” Tony says. “Really hurt.”

“Stark is here for fraud, and he’s a master manipulator.”

“That’s better—stroke my ego, Phil. I love it. Go on.”

Coulson looks unimpressed. “Give him a wide berth.”

Peter nods obediently. His eyes trail over to Bucky and he lights up, squinting with a smile liable to outshine the sun. “Good morning Bucky! How are you?”

Coulson looks liable to have a fucking stroke. Lips twitching, Bucky salutes. “Doing great, sweet thing, how about yourself?”

“Can’t complain,” Peter says, blushing prettily.

Coulson ends up having to drag him off. Tony can’t imagine the dressing down he’s going to be receiving once they’re in private. Actually, he can, and it’s an image he cherishes. It wouldn’t hurt for the sweet kid to have some sense knocked into him by the other guards—before one of the inmates knocks it into him for them. The thought makes Tony’s fist clench around his fork. If anybody is knocking anything into Peter, it will be him. And Bucky. Preferably at the same time.

“You can hold him down,” Tony says lowly to Bucky across the table. “I’d like to see your thick arms wrapped around him. He looks like a squirmer, so sensitive. You can keep him still with nowhere to go, sitting on your cock, and I’ll suck him off. I bet he cries.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says, eyes half-lidded. He makes a stabbing motion with his plastic fork. “Or I’ll end up in the bathroom at the park beating off.”

“I like the thought of that.”

“Yeah, well I don’t.”

The next time Peter comes around, he is alone. Tony, Toomes, and some of the other guys are sitting around the table playing poker.

“Afternoon gentlemen,” Peter says cordially. Tony is immediately smitten—the kid is trying so hard to be a Big Boy. It’s so fucking endearing. All Tony wants to do is drag the kid by the belt to the nearest cell and suck him off.

“Afternoon, handsome,” Tony says.

“I hope there’s no gambling going on,” Peter says, his arms cross across his chest. Jesus, his arms are skinny but fucking built, muscles straining beneath the cuffs of his shirt. There’s strength there. He’s reminded suddenly that this kid did pass the academy, so he does have some training under his belt.

“Gambling is against the rules, officer,” Tony says brightly. He takes the cigarette from behind his ear, hands desperate for something to do, and tucks it between his lips. “Do we look like rule breakers to you?”

Peter shakes the hand of each man around the table. Tony would have to be blind not to see the looks he’s garnering: incredulity, attraction, calculation. Toomes looks like he’s about to cream his jumpsuit when his rough hand wraps around Peter’s soft, tiny one. The look he shoots Tony is smug.

“Do I get a handshake, Officer?” Tony asks sweetly as the kid is trying to make his escape.

He looks at Tony’s hand like it is a trap. Tony softens.

“I’m sorry if I came on too strong before,” he says gently. “I just want to say, Welcome to LCF.”

Peter takes his hand. It is just as soft and smooth as it looks, but the grip is strong and firm, and Tony feels irrational pride—look at this little boy standing up to him, so fucking fearless. He makes sure to keep the handshake simple and wholesome, even though it hurts to let go. Judging by the look on Peter’s face, he agrees.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” the kid breaths and fuck. That goes right to his cock.

“You’re quite welcome,” he purrs.

The guards work 2-2-3’s, predictably. That means that Peter will have two day shifts, two days off, three night shifts, two days off, two day shifts, three days off, so on and so forth. The next two days with no Peter to look forward to and Bucky spending the 9 to 5 picking up trash are some of the dullest he’s ever had. Rhodey is the only consolation. They spend a lot of their time watching television together or playing chess.

And nights are spent with Bucky. They take turns topping, pressing each other into the mattress and muttering a litany of dirty prose in each other’s ears. Peter makes a lot of appearances in their repertoire, and some of the best orgasms Tony’s had in ages come from imagining him walking into his cell someday to find Bucky sucking off Officer Parker, or the other way around.

Sometimes, Tony has to go behind the curtain in his cell and pretend he’s taking a shit, when in reality he is jerking off to the thought. Popping a boner during poker isn’t exactly welcome.

The night shifts aren’t ideal. From 6 pm to 6 am, Peter will come in to walk the floor, shining light into cells to make sure everything is up to code. There isn’t as much time for conversation, but Tony figures he’ll be happy to spend the night awake in his buck just for the glimpses of Peter he’ll get. God, he’s fucking worked up over this kid. Mr. Stark, he called him. Jesus.

When Peter comes in at six, it is to general greeting suffused with catcalls. His face turns red as a tomato, but he smiles, looking pleased by the comradery.

“Hey doll,” Bucky says when he strolls by. Trays came in a few minutes prior, so they are eating. Salisbury steak tonight, disgusting—but the gravy isn’t half bad. Peter waves, coming over.

“Hi Mr. Barnes. Hi Mr. Stark.”

“It’s Tony, sweetheart,” Tony says. “Even Coulson calls us by our first names. You can do it too.”

“T-Tony,” Peter stutters.

“Say it again,” Tony purrs. “You need to get your practice in now.”

Bucky kicks him under the table. “You’re going to give him an aneurysm. Sorry Pete—Tony is a bit of a horn dog. He’s what the kids call thirsty.”

Peter laughs, hiding his smile behind his hand. “Yeah, I could have guessed. Is he like this with everybody?”

Tony goes to open his mouth, but is stopped by the increased pressure on the arch of his foot by Bucky’s boot under the table. When he glances over, Bucky looks earnest, serious. He puts a scarred hand over his heart. “No sir. Swear on my service tags. You’ve got us all smitten.”

Peter melts. He bites his lip, casting Tony a shy but warm glance. “I—you guys are so nice. I better get back to—yeah—”

They both watch Peter’s ass as he walks away.

“You smooth motherfucker. I need to start taking a page out of your book,” Tony mutters. He rubs his ankle softly against Bucky’s. It’s the most affection they’re willing to give each other out on the floor. Affection is weakness here, and as the guy who runs the floor, Tony knows he has a big target on his chest. He’d rather not make it any bigger. For him, or for Bucky.

It’s nearing ten PM. Lights go out at 9:30, and while not everyone is asleep, the raucous gatherings are contained to individual cells.

Like Tony’s. He is biting his knuckles, panting as Bucky sucks him off. They’ve spent the last hour cuddling in the bunk, running their hands over each other, muttering dirty things between them. He’s been hard for the better part of that hour, and it’s only now that Bucky has shown mercy on him, tugging him up to sit on the edge of the bunk, knees spread wide. He rucks up Tony’s wifebeater over his abs and chest to rub a thumb at one of his nipples, causing his cock to jump.

“Let’s give a show, baby, huh?” Bucky whispers before swallowing him down. Tony jolts, barely managing to cut off the groan that builds up in his throat.

Bucky gives head with enthusiasm and without shame, probably because he looks so fucking hot without his inhibitions, and he knows it. Eyes closed like Tony’s cock is the tastiest thing he’s ever had in his mouth, Bucky drools and chokes himself, sometimes pressing Tony’s cock up so that he can mouth at the older man’s balls, taking them into his mouth one at a time.

Tony holds off his orgasm for as long as he can. He loves this, loves how aroused Bucky gets from sucking cock, whining around it, one hand reaching between his own legs to jerk himself off.

Then comes the light. It blinds Tony whose eyes are accustomed to the darkness. He gasps, jerking backwards in horror at being caught, but Bucky’s hands grab his hips and wrench him forwards, taking him deeper.

There comes a gasp, high and effeminate.

Peter.

The flashlight fumbles and clicks off, but Tony doesn’t hear the footsteps move away. His eyes readjust to the darkness, and he sees Peter’s form standing in the doorway, one hand up to press against his mouth.

Bucky chokes himself, swallowing around the head of Tony’s cock, and something about being watched—being watched by Peter—has Tony gasping, fisting Bucky’s long hair and fucking into his throat as he cums. He barely manages to keep his eyes open through the pleasure, because now he can just make out the dim form of features on Peter’s face, eyes half-closed, and knuckles clutched between his teeth.

He likes what he sees.

“Jesus, baby,” Tony whispers, stroking Bucky’s hair. The man stands up, pants slung to his ankles, fisting his naked cock furiously. The low cots mean that when he cums with a groan, he stripes Tony’s chest with it, and he loves it, fucking loves marking and being marked by Bucky. “You wanted to give Peter a show, huh?”

The sound Peter makes is tortured. He turns and nearly sprints away, perfunctorily walking down the rest of the cells, glancing in to make sure no one is smoking or hoarding blankets or any other thing.

They sit side by side on the bunk, panting.

“All part of the plan, handsome,” Bucky mutters, pressing a tender kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“Petey came to my cell last night,” Toomes says the next day. The guard on duty is in Tony’s palm, so Tony smokes unabashedly and without fear of repercussions, flicking his ash in a neat pile next to him, because littering isn’t cool.

He isn’t sure what his facial expression says, but he hopes its as stony and unbelieving as he feels. “Good for you, Toomes. Did you finally get that suck job you wanted?”

The other man scoffs, waving away Tony’s accusations. “He’s too skittish for that. But he saw me reading. Frankenstein. Did you know he’s a big reader, Tony?”

Tony didn’t know. He tries not to let it show how rankled it makes him, that there is any part of Peter that this vulture has picked off before Tony or Bucky.

“Maybe you can start a book club,” Tony suggests.

Beside him, Rhodey snorts into his cards.

“He’s full of shit, Tony. You know that,” Bucky soothes. He’s sitting on Tony’s cot, freshly showered, watching Tony pace, cigarette clutched between his lips. The younger man is getting a tan from his time spent out in the sun picking up trash. For a fair skinned, fair eyed man, he tans surprisingly well. Tony certainly appreciates the aesthetic.

“He’s not. Not about this, at least,” Tony mutters. “Peter waved to him tonight at dinner when you were getting your tray. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look at Toomes with a pleasant expression. I can’t unsee it.”

“You poor thing,” Bucky says, sounding not at all sympathetic. “Look, the kid’s worked here for three days. This is his fourth fucking shift. Seduction takes time. You always do this—if something you want doesn’t fall into your lap right away, you get mopey. Where’s the Tony you always talk about, the one who had patience, who worked hard to reap rewards?”

“Worked real hard to reap my dad’s money, you’ve got that right,” Tony mutters. “You suck at pep talks, snowflake.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Then how about I just console you?”

Tony takes the cigarette from his mouth and points it at him. “Now you’re talking.”

It’s nearing two in the morning. Peter has been by a handful of times, face red when he glances into their cell. Bucky and Tony jerked each other off hours ago—shame he missed it—and have spent the rest of the evening sitting on the cot talking. Bucky does push-ups. Tony admires the view.

“I’m out of smokes,” Bucky says. He means pot—Tony doesn’t partake, but on night when Bucky does, sleeps easier and wakes more rested. “I need more papers.”

“I got ‘em baby.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

Tony can get anything into prison. It’s about greasing the guards—and he makes sure to know which ones squeak and which ones don’t. Then he keeps them well, well lubricated. Whenever someone needs something (matches, drugs, porn, other contraband), Tony is the guy who gets it. But he’s not dumb enough to be the guy who keeps it. That’s on the straw men Tony keeps around the block. One houses the rolling papers. Another has the pot. There’s a cellphone in the cell beside Tony. And if there are shakedowns with guards Tony doesn’t have under his thumb, those men agree to take the fall, and Tony agrees to make it up to them.

It’s late and dark, most people actually asleep now. Tony feels his way down to the cells to the guy who’s housing the papers for joints. The guy snores to wake the dead, but Tony doesn’t care, letting himself in and going to the designated location.

It’s on his way back that he hears the noise.

Voices.

He’d ignore them—some guys will stay up all night talking—but one of those voices is too high.

It’s panicked, too.

Breathing heavier, he takes care to muffle his steps. He isn’t wearing shoes, and that makes him vulnerable in a fight, but he’s held his own in worse situations. The element of surprise will be instrumental in coming out on top—if he needs to. Keeping his breaths quiet, he follows the sounds to the showers, empty but still smelling damp and faintly of soap.

It’s definitely Peter’s voice.

There are windows here that let in the moonlight. Tony stands in the shadow of the doorway, watching and listening.

“Come on, Adrian, quit—”

“You come on, Petey. I’ll make it good for you. It’s got to be tough, being around all the men on the block, being flirted with all the time. Gets a kid hot and bothered I bet, huh? You’re a hot little thing. I saw the way you looked at me last night. I’m here for you, honey. You can use me—”

“I don’t want to. I could lose my job.”

“I’ll take it to the grave, Pete, I swear.”

Peter is pressed against the tiled wall between two showerheads. Adrian is pinning him there with his body, and the size difference is drastic. Peter is so fucking tiny and frail looking, eyes huge and frightened, hands clenching and unclenching even though he has a fucking weapon, come on Pete, pull your baton, your taser, your fucking gun—

Adrian’s hand drifts from where it’s caressing Peter’s jaw. It presses against his chest, fingering the buttons down Peter’s dress blues, and then palms the young man’s cock.

Tony sees red. He wishes he had the shiv he keeps hidden on the floor, but there’s no time to search for it in the dark, and he can make do without it anyway. Get Adrian down and then pull Peter’s baton, beat Toomes again and again and again until the man eats his meals through a straw or not at all.

“I said no, Toomes.” Peter grabs the man’s wrist and twists it expertly. With a strength Tony didn’t know could be contained in such a tiny form, he switches their positions to press Toomes’s face into the wall, grinding it against the tiles. The man struggles but Peter is holding strong, lithe little muscles bulging as he kicks the man’s legs apart so he can’t get proper leverage to push him away. Then he grabs his cuffs, and in a heartbeat, the larger man is subdued. “I tried to be nice, didn’t I? No means no, asshole.”

He wrenches Toomes away from the wall and they both turn to see Tony standing there. They all look at each other, mouths open. Then Tony lifts his hands and brings them together softly, a standing ovation.

“I’m not going to lie,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a little hard right now.”

Peter scowls. “Not now, Tony. Go press the button to let the other guards know I need help.”

“No can do, sweet thing. But it looks like you’ve got it covered for yourself.”

Peter does, frog marching Toomes across the floor and out of the Block. Tony watches it all with an incredulous expression. And a chub. Even after they’re gone, he stands on the quiet, dark floor, pondering what he’s seen. When Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder, Tony nearly jumps out of his own skin.

“What happened?” he asks. “Was that Peter I heard?”

“Oh Buck. You won’t believe this yarn I’m going to spin you.”

Toomes doesn’t return to the block. More than likely, he is shifted to another block with more violent offenders. They tend to group inmates based on the charges against them and their charge history. Tony wonders what exactly he’ll be charged with now. Attempted assault of a police officer? It sounds delicious. Whatever the punishment, it will be too good for him.

Bucky is torn up. Coming home from war has left him sensitive to certain aggressions, and he often feels things too keenly. Takes things too personally. “No means no,” he says, voice thick, faced press into Tony’s neck as he holds him. “Why don’t people listen? No means no.”

“We know that. They know that too. They just don’t care, baby. We’ll see Pete tomorrow and find out how he’s doing.”

Bucky lifts his head. His eyes are cloudy and distant “Tell me again how he roughed up Toomes.”

“With pleasure,” Tony purrs. “He’s so goddamn petite, but his hiding some serious muscles under that uniform. God, it had me worked up, the way he knocked Toomes’s legs apart. The snap of the cuffs. When we get out of here, snowflake, we need to invest in a pair of those.”

Bucky snorts, but he looks pleased.

Part of Tony worried that Peter wouldn’t come in for his shift. He wouldn’t blame the kid; he’d almost been assaulted on the job. The guards had it tough. If it wasn’t sexual harassment, it was physical intimidation—the latter of which Tony himself had been guilty of. But he shouldn’t have underestimated their boy.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Peter says shyly. He’s got his hands on his narrow hips, but Tony knows that those fingers are long enough to wrap all the way around a man’s wrist, wrenching it back.

“How are you?” Bucky asks when Peter comes by.

Peter smiles, soft and gentle. “I’m okay, Bucky. How are you?”

“Better, now that I’ve seen your handsome face.”

Peter blushes, so susceptible to Bucky’s lines. Then he turns his eyes to Tony, and they grow colder. He barely nods recognition before strutting away. Tony can’t even appreciate the way the tight pants hug his ass, because he’s too busy with his mouth agape, jerking a thumb at the boy’s back and asking Bucky, “What did I do?”

That night they are waiting up for Peter the first time he makes his rounds. They decide to sit on the floor so as to be as non-threatening as possible (Peter went through a fucking ordeal yesterday, and they aren’t looking to add to his stress), Tony with his back against the edge of the cot and Bucky propped up against the wall, one foot flat on the floor and the other tickling Tony’s thighs. Yes, the bunks are that small.

As soon as Peter’s light shines in, Bucky calls for him gently.

Carefully, he steps into the room, shining the light towards the ceiling to cast a glow over all of them. His face is somber, but he smiles.

“Hey Bucky. What do you need?”

Bucky doesn’t beat around the bush. “We want to know if you’re really okay. Tony told me about Toomes. That guy’s a fucking piece of work. Hope some guys up on B Block crack his skull in—won’t be no skin off society’s nose.”

Peter shakes his head. “That’s not a good way to talk. That’s not justice. I’m doing fine—Toomes wasn’t hard to subdue.”

“You handled him like a pro,” Tony adds.

Peter’s look frosts over. “Like a police officer, yes. No thanks to you.”

Tony groans. “Is that why you’re mad at me? Because I wouldn’t go press the button for you, baby?”

“Don’t call me that. And yes. I thought we were—” Peter doesn’t finish. He blushes, obviously knowing how silly that sentence sounds: a CO being friends with an inmate. But it cuts Tony all the same, and Bucky’s look across the room is murderous.

“You didn’t try to get help? What the fuck, Tony.” His foot lashes out and catches Tony in the shin, and fuck that stings!

“I’m not a snitch,” Tony snaps.

“Look, I’ll leave you both to this—”

“I was going to handle it if Peter couldn’t—I was going to kill that son of a bitch. That’s how things work in here, you know that Bucky. This isn’t the military. There’s no honor or morals. There’s just rules, and the number one rule is no snitching. If there’s a problem, we handle it this way.”

Peter swallows. “Tony—you can’t just say that. I can’t—I’ve got to tell somebody that you said that, I think.”

“This place doesn’t have honor, but we do,” Bucky growls. “Or at least, I thought you did.”

“You know I’d have killed for him,” Tony says through his teeth. “Just like how I’d kill for you—”

“Would you fucking stop it?” Peter hisses. It’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over them to hear him curse. His grip has gone white on his flashlight he’s so tense, lips pressed into a thin, furious line. “Why are you two doing this? Is it—is this just to, to fuck with me? I don’t get it, I—”

All the anger seeps out of him. He looks lost, tortured. Both of the angry men in front of him soften. What is it about this boy that melts them like wax under flame? Bucky shuffles up onto his knees, looking with his long hair like some knight from an old medieval story, begging for forgiveness of his fair lady.

“Pete, we didn’t mean to come on so strong. Please—will you sit for a bit?”

Peter glances back at the floor. It is dark and mostly quiet, some laughter coming from a cell further down the line. “I shouldn’t,” he says. “I need to do my job.”

“We won’t keep you here, if you want to leave. We aren’t like Toomes. But if you’re willing, we’d like to talk. Work this out.”

Looking torn, Peter sits. Tony and Bucky flank him, but the boy doesn’t look threatened in the slightest, just hunches himself over to rest his elbows on his knees. “Okay. Go ahead and talk,” he says.

“Bucky and I are together.”

Peter snorts. “I got that when I saw him sucking you off.”

Tony blinks. “Oh. Well that happens in here every now and again—some men will do anything in here for company, even if they don’t really swing that way on the outside. But Bucky and I—we’re pretty in love.”

“Yeah,” says Bucky. “He’s dumb. But I love him.”

Peter laughs a little. “Okay. Yeah. So you two are together.”

“We’re polyamorous,” Tony admits. “That means we have a lot of love to give and aren’t unopposed to giving it to multiple people at once. Bucky here, he’s got a boyfriend down the line, Steve—you know Steve?”

“I know Mr. Rogers. He seems nice.”

“He’s real nice,” Bucky smirks. “Our point here is that up until now, we’ve had passing flings with other people, but we’ve never shared anyone. We’ve never wanted to share anyone—until you. And now it’s like our stupidity has squared itself, because we both are falling over ourselves to try to attract you.”

He’s glad he’s letting Bucky take the lead. Tony might have a way with words, but Bucky absolutely has tact and softness that Tony can’t muster up in his wildest dreams. Peter is sitting between them looking red-faced but thoughtful. “So, what? You guys both want to date me?”

“We can’t exactly set up a table with a cloth and wine and dine you, princess,” Tony says. He tries to stay soft and honest, because his mother always used to say that honesty is the best policy. Peter looks like the kind of kid who would appreciate that. “As unfortunate as that is. I’ve got five months left on my sentence, and Bucky has almost double that. And as—what is it Bucky? Thirsty?—as thirsty as we both are, we understand that you wouldn’t want to put your job in jeopardy.”

Peter looks relieved by their admission. “I don’t really know how I feel, to be honest. You’re both—wow, you’re both really hot. Duh. But I don’t know you. Maybe I could get to know you? A little at a time? And once you’re out Tony, if I’m not seeing anyone, we could go out? There’s…” Peter swallows. “There’s definitely chemistry here.��

“Yeah, kid, I feel that,” Tony says.

“We don’t want to pressure you,” Bucky emphasizes, shooting Tony a look overhead that says keep it in your pants. They’ve been seeing each other in here long enough to have reached the telepathic portion of their relationship, thanks. “You’re already promising more than we could have hoped for. And we really appreciate you sitting down and talking things out with us. That’s never easy, doll.”

The younger man blushes prettily, shrugging. He stands. “I really should get back to work.”

“Okay, kid. Whatever you need to do,” Tony agrees. He shifts, hard in his sweatpants, the proximity to his lover and his maybe, possibly, someday lover has sweat beading at the nape of his neck and his imagination running wild. Peter’s eyes track his movements and then fall to his lap.

He licks his lips.

Honest to god.

“I—wait for me. Just—” Peter disappears, flashlight bobbing as he continues down the line. They can hear him popping his head in to a cell further down and telling the guys to please be respectful of the other inmates, thanks!

“Buck,” Tony groans. They smash together with no finesse, both of them stressed and horny from their confrontation with Peter. They taste like mint toothpaste they used before lights out, and Tony licks into the younger man’s mouth unabashedly, sucking on his tongue, licking at his teeth. “God, I need you,” he whispers.

“Take me,” Bucky urges. “Come on, baby. Take me.”

They shed clothes like they’re on fire. Tony folds Bucky’s legs up—for a large guy, he’s surprisingly nimble—and lowers his mouth to Bucky’s ass, licking a hot stripe over his hole and to his balls. He hears the hiss above him, the groan muffled by a fist in his mouth. Not for the first time, Tony hates prison. He hates that they have to be quiet, that they can’t let themselves go and love each other properly, just hushed romps like this in the middle of the night.

“What do you think he meant?” Bucky pants, fingers clenching on Tony’s hair. “Wait for me?”

There is a whispered groan from the doorway. They both turn to see Peter there, leaning against the bars, eyes heavy. “I meant wait, but I get it. God, I get it. You’re both so, wow, god.”

“He’s eloquent,” Tony says. They shift on instinct, turning so as to give Peter a better view. He turns off his flashlight and it takes time for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Peter stands with his back to the wall, hands clasped behind his back like he’s in handcuffs.

“I can’t—I can’t do anything,” Peter pants. “But I could watch. If you wanted me to.”

“Do you want to?” Bucky asks.

“God yes,” Peter breaths, voice high. One hand palms at his crotch. His uniform has him blending in to the darkness, but they can guess what he’s doing, and fuck that turns Tony on, like there’s fire in his blood. He goes back to eating Bucky’s ass, pressing a thumb against the rim to hold him open so he can slip his tongue inside.

“Jesus, Tony,” Bucky says. “Fuck me. Just fuck me, come on.”

Tony is in full agreement. It’s too much; they’re all too worked up. The sounds from Bucky, the sounds from Peter, the taste of his lover in his mouth—his cock feels fit to burst as he pulls it from his sweats. He doesn’t dare pump it for fear of blowing his load right away. God this isn’t going to be the best performance to share with their new love, but he hopes that Peter can forgive him if he comes off as a three-pump-chump.

He presses in slow. Bucky is still soft and pliant from their fucking the night before, and there’s no discomfort on his lover’s face even when he bottoms out. Bucky’s legs wrap around him and he urges Tony forward with his heels and voice: “Come on, baby. Fuck me. Give it to me. Put on a show.”

Tony knows just how Bucky likes it. There’s no holding back, just the brutal thrusting of his hips that has Bucky giving off choked noises, one hand pressed firmly over his mouth and the other scrabbling at the sheet on the cot. It only takes a moment for Tony to glance over and see Peter, hand flashing in the darkness as he jerks his own cock through his dress blues, and Tony is mounting the crest, balls contracting, stomach tensing.

Bucky blows first, untouched. Tony barely gets a fist around him when he realizes what’s happening, pumping furiously to help his lover through it. Then he is there himself, grip maybe too tight around Bucky’s cock, hips snapping desperately while he blows his load. It feels like it lasts forever. Was over so, so quick.

Even when they’re done, panting, sandwiched together, they hear Peter: breathy little whines from across the room. He stops jerking himself off when they stop lazily and lovingly grinding their hips together, but it’s obvious by the unconscious swaying of his hips that he didn’t cum.

“Take care of him,” Bucky mutters, pressing a kiss to Tony’s sweaty temple. “Get on your knees for him.”

“Yes,” Tony gasps. His cock slips free of Bucky, still tingling pleasantly. He walks on his knees the few feet it takes to be at Peter’s feet, staring up at his tortured expression.

“I can’t,” Peter gasps. “I can’t do anything. That’d be wrong—”

“Then don’t do anything, Officer,” Tony purrs. He reaches a hand up and rubs at Peter’s cock. The kid keens softly, thrusting his hips out even as he grips uselessly at the wall. He’s desperate for relief, desperate to get away. Tony bats his eyes, though no one can see in the dark. “Let me do the work, sir. Please?”

Peter swallows hard. He nods frantically, and that’s all Tony needs to undo Peter’s belt, wrench down his dress slacks and boxers. He doesn’t even get a good look at the kid’s cock, just swallows him down. It’s a nice mouthful, and he has to work to get the last inch or so, taking the head just into his throat. “I’m—I don’t want to hurt you,” Peter gasps.

Tony swallows.

Peter cums. Tony barely manages to pull back, desperate to taste him on his tongue. One hand comes up to work at Peter’s twitching cock, the other cradling his balls to help prolong his pleasure. The kid sounds like he’s never cum before in his life, hands gripping at the concrete wall, giving tiny aborted thrusts, mouth open and panting.

“Thank you, Officer,” Tony says, voice a little distorted from deep-throating. Peter slumps down the wall, knees shaking, until they’re kneeling across from each other. Tony can’t help it, he laughs a little. “You didn’t need to be worried about hurting me, baby. That wasn’t my first blowjob.”

It’s Peter’s turn to chuckle. “I did have good reason to be worried.” He cuts himself off, like there was more he was going to say, but stopped himself.

“What is it, doll?” Bucky asks. He’s lounging on the bed, watching them with lazy, sated eyes. He’s so fucking handsome, Tony crawls across the floor to kiss him and press the last of Peter’s cum into his mouth. The other man moans appreciatively.

“It’s kind of a crazy story,” Peter admits.

“We know a thing or two about crazy,” Tony says. “Try us.”

Peter’s clenches his hands together tightly. “It’s weird, actually. It has to do with a spider.”

Bucky and Tony share a glance, equal parts confused and amused. Tony settles in, leaning his head to rest on the cot beside Bucky. “Go on then,” he says. “We’re listening.”

Tag list: @crown-filth

#winterironspider #starker #winteriron #prison #drugs #violence #cagewrites

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johnsbleu · 4 years

Text

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 60

warnings: moments of nsfw-ness here and there. Hold My Hand Masterlist

Anytime you and John are in a book shop, you always end up separated. Part of you knows that you do it on purpose because John always gets so excited to see you again. He’ll toss aside whatever book he’s looking at and wrap his arms around your waist, kissing you repeatedly like you haven’t seen each other in days.

More than once the two of you have snuck into the corner of a book shop for a make out session. Yeah, it’s probably immature, but sometimes it’s fun to act like high school kids. One time you were almost caught with John’s hand up your shirt, but thankfully no one saw you.

Since the two of you are new to this shop, you’re hoping John will pull you aside at some point and kiss you with no end in sight. Surprisingly, you’ve never been to this shop before. It’s a lot like your shop, but it doesn’t feel as cozy. Probably from the cars honking on the street outside, and the fact that it’s about as big as your living room and kitchen combined. It’s tiny.

You know John is somewhere in the shop, even though his voice is quiet, it’s still deep and it carries throughout the shop. You peek around a shelf to see John talking to a woman who is helping him look for a certain book, and he’s listening to every word she’s saying as he looks over the book in his hands.

He’s been asked to look for a few books for a client, some old children’s books that they’ve had a hard time finding, and of course, John always knows the best places to find them.

It’s only been about a week since you made a website for John’s bookbinding business, but he’s gotten a few people asking for books. He checks it every morning and tries his best to play it cool when someone emails him. It’s so nice to see him genuinely excited about something he loves, and you couldn’t be more proud of him.

You lean against the shelf, watching John closely as he talks quietly with the woman. He nods several times, and the woman excuses herself for a moment and heads for the backroom to grab something.

John looks at you and smiles wide, “I’m almost done. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Take your time, babe.” you wave your hand and smile sincerely, “Come find me when you’re done.”

You hold John’s gaze for a moment, then he nods and gives you a wink. You head for the back of the shop and look through the books on the shelf. Since you found out that John binds books, you look through all of the old classics in hopes that you’ll find one with his stamp on the inside.

Of Mice and Men, The Great Gatsby, To Kill a Mockingbird. You set them on the table and carefully open them to see the inside cover is empty.

“Damn it.” you sigh and put them back on the shelf.

“Try A Tale of Two Cities.” John says quietly as he stands behind you.

You run your finger along the books as you look up and down the shelves, then you gasp a little when you find it and pull it out. Looking at John as you open it, you smile at him, then look down to see his stamp on the inside cover, “Oh, my god.”

“Just brought that one in the other day.”

You look up at you John, smiling wide, “I’m buying it.”

John’s cheeks turn pink as he smiles proudly, and he lets out a small laugh when you turn around and look for more. You look over your shoulder to see John has several things in his hands, and you spot Jane Eyre. The binding is all torn up, so you know whoever owned it must have loved it.

“Jane Eyre?”

John nods slowly and smiles, “Yeah, I’ve been looking for this one for a few months. It’s a first edition, and the binding isn’t too bad, but I want to fix it. Melanie had called me a few weeks back to let me know that it was in, but with everything that’s going on with our shop, I hadn’t had time to come pick it up.”

You squint your eyes at John, “That’s my mom’s favorite book.”

“I know.” he looks up at you and smiles, “It’s her birthday soon. I know you’re going to tell me not to do this, but I really want to.”

You put your hands up in defense and smile, “Hey, I think it’s super sweet.”

You watch John as he struggles to hold everything in his hands, despite the fact that his hands are huge. He has way too much he’s trying to carry, and he’d never ask for help.

You laugh as you reach out to help carry a few things, “Baby, just ask for some help.”

“Can you help me?” he asks quietly. He’s bought more supplies to bind books, and you hold them up as he explains each thing. “Thread. For the binding.”

You hold up a weird tool that almost looks like an ice pick and you widen your eyes, “You could kill someone with this.”

“That is a piercing awl.” he laughs as he puts every into a shopping basket. “And yes, I could kill someone with it.”

You hold up a ruler and laugh, “And this?”

“Well, for obvious reasons.” he takes it from you and looks around the shop, then he bends you over the table. You look over your shoulder as John lifts up your dress, then he slaps the ruler against your ass as the two of you laugh.

John has stopped at a gas station to fill up the gas tank, and he’s grabbed you a few snacks for the road. The drive back to Mill Neck will be a little longer since it’s rush hour and everyone is on their way home from work. Sure, John could weave in and out of traffic, but he’d never do it with you in the car.

Aurelio has recently updated the stereo in John’s car -- by John’s request, of course. You wanted to show John a new song that reminded you of him, but because his car is older, it didn’t have the proper stereo for you to be able to plug your phone into. John was more than happy to update it as long as you promised to let him pick some music to add to a playlist; mostly Michael Bublé, some Johnny Cash, and a song or two by Peter Frampton.

You kick off your shoes and sit cross legged in your seat, shifting around a few times until you’re comfortable as you swipe through the songs on your phone.

“Okay, now this song…it’s like, me about you. It’s how I feel about you.” you say, turning it up a little, “I’m sure you feel this way about me too though. At least I’d hope."

“Well,” John clears his throat and puts on his seat belt, “If it’s how you feel about me, then I’m positive I feel the same way. You ready?”

You grab your bottle of lemonade from the bag and crack it open to take a sip. You twist the cap back on and clap your hands together.

“Ready!” you smile at John, then start to laugh when you realize he’s been watching you, “What?”

He reaches out and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, then he sucks on thumb to get a taste of your lemonade, “You know how much I love you?”

“Um, a lot?” you say, smiling sweetly.

“A lot, a lot, a lot.” he leans his head against his seat and smiles as he brushes the back of his hand against your cheek, “You’re my girl.”

“Ooh,” you laugh, pressing your hand to your stomach, “That gave me butterflies.”

John leans over to kiss you and he reaches for your hand, then presses a kiss to it, “You look really good sitting in the passenger seat of my car. I’ve always wanted to tell you that. The first time you were ever in my car…” he puts his hand over his heart and smiles, “Best day ever. You looked so tiny, and you were so nervous. I just wanted to hold you in my arms.”

“Very sweet, Jonathan.” you lean over to kiss him again and start to crawl into his lap, “But I think I’d look even better in the driver’s seat.”

John wraps his arms around you and laughs, “Wanna just drive like this the whole way home?”

“Hmm…” you tilt your head and tap your finger to your chin.

“Do you want to drive home?” he asks, already opening his door.

“Yes!” you trade spots with John and get the seat adjusted as he gets out and walks to the passenger’s side. “I know you just got it back today, but I want to drive.”

John quickly pulls on his seat belt and smiles, “Okay, so just…gently push the gas when you’re driving. This car can go pretty fast.”

“Jonathan, I’ve driven your car before. Many times.”

He nods and exhales, “Yeah, you’re right.”

John watches you as you put your hand on the gear stick and put the car in reverse. He holds his breath for a moment as you back out of the parking spot, and he exhales loudly when you put the car in drive. From the corner of your eye, you can see John hold onto the door handle as you pull onto the street, and you start to laugh.

“Seriously?” you ask, looking back and forth between him and the road, “You’ve been in the car with me before when I’ve driven. I’m a good driver, John.”

“I’m still better.”

You laugh, “I won’t argue with that, but I’m much more patient in traffic.”

“Okay, yeah, well, I won’t argue with that.”

The drive back to Mill Neck went by faster than you’d hoped. You showed John several songs that reminded you of him, and he even played a certain one three times in a row. He hummed along to it and kept his hand on your thigh the entire drive.

You pull into the driveway and sigh, “Wish it would have taken longer to get home.”

“Why?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. Kinda liked just driving and listening to music. I miss being with you.”

John gets out of the car and grabs his bags from the backseat, then he walks to the driver’s side and opens the door, reaching out for your hand.

“Oh…” you laugh and look at his hand, “I wasn’t waiting for you to…open my door, or anything like that.”

“I know, peach.” he shakes his hand and you finally reach out for it. “How about tomorrow we take a drive through the city? You can show me all the other songs, and we can listen to that one song again. And again.”

“You really liked that one, huh?” you laugh as you walk into the house, “I heard it the other day, and I just instantly thought of you. It’d be a good song for our first dance, or at least one of our dances on our wedding night.”

“Our first dance.” John repeats, still holding your hand as he walks into the kitchen.

Your cheeks are aflame from embarrassment, but you know John thinks about your wedding just as much as you. If only he’d fucking propose already.

“Yeah, I was just listening to it and thought about marrying you. Us dancing to it.” you look up at John and smile, “I mean, I think about it a lot. Like…quite a bit, almost like, ya know, constantly.”

“Getting tired of waiting?”

You let out a loud laugh and nod, “Yeah, to be honest, I kind of am. I like to think of myself as a pretty patient person, but…hurry up, already!”

“Soon, I promise.”

The smile on John’s face is making you melt and he sits down at the kitchen table, then pulls you into his lap. John has been eyeing you all day, and it’s honestly giving you butterflies. His hands slides in between your legs and he leans into kiss you. You’re wearing a dress that buttons up the front and it comes to your mid thigh, and you know you wore it on purpose. You always love the way John looks at you.

“I love this dress.” he whispers against your lips.

“Thanks.” you cup John’s face in your hands and stand up. He keeps his lips connected to yours as you back out of the kitchen and head for your bedroom. Once at the stairs, he lifts you up and you wrap you legs around his waist as he climbs the stairs, still kissing each other passionately.

John lays you down on the bed and starts to unbutton your dress, “You look beautiful today. You look so happy.”

“I am.”

“Not wearing a bra, I see.” he says, opening the front of your dress, then leaning down to kiss over your breasts.

“Thought you’d enjoy that.” you watch John as he kisses down your chest, past your bellybutton and to the waistband of your underwear, and you whimper a little when he nips at your sensitive skin. He lightly trails his fingers down your inner thighs, then starts to pull your underwear to the side. You tilt your head back and smile, “That feels good, Jonathan.”

“Does it?” he whispers, and you hum when you feel his tongue; wet and warm against your clit.

Licking your lips, you tilt your head back more and let out a soft moan as John slowly rubs his thumb over your clit. Your body jolts from the pleasure, and you open your eyes to watch John in between your legs.

“Fuck, you taste delicious.” he whispers against your thighs, and he smiles when he looks up at you. His phone rings in his pocket and he stands up straight to answer it, “Hey…yeah, no problem. I can be right over.”

You flop on the bed and laugh, “You’re kidding?”

John lays down on top of you and smiles, “Sorry, Jimmy needs my help. Tess isn’t home so you’d just be bored over there.”

You cup his face and kiss his cheek, “Just guys being dudes.”

“I don’t get that reference, and I’m sure you’re referencing something. You and Tess do that a lot, but yeah, just guys being dudes.” he smiles, then kisses your nose. “Come over in a little bit, okay, beautiful?”

You frown playfully as John smiles, and you sit up to kiss him, “I’ll meet you over there in a little bit. Grab some gum or brush your teeth before you leave.”

John licks his lips and smiles, “Maybe I like the taste of you on my lips all day.”

“And while that is one of the hottest things you’ve ever said to me, please eat a mint.”

John nods as he leans down to suck on your nipple one last time, “Okay. I love you.”

“Love you.” you pout as John leans back down to kiss you, then you watch him leave the room, “Just leave me here naked…and very turned on!”

“We have tonight!” he yells, and moments later, you hear the front door close.

As you walk across the street, you can already hear Jimmy’s playlist playing loudly in the backyard, and you know John is probably kicking himself for heading over early. You walk into the backyard, but seeing no one back there, you walk to the backdoor and see Jimmy, Tess, and John standing around the kitchen island looking at something.

Tess is pointing at the paper and as she talks, John is quickly writing everything down. It all looks very…secretive for some reason. You press your ear to the door, but with the music playing, it’s impossible to hear what they’re saying. You see Tess nod her head as John talks and she puts hand over her heart, then she smiles and covers her face with her hands.

“What is going on?” you whisper to yourself and turn the handle to the backdoor, but it’s locked.

You knock on the door, and John looks up at you as Tess leaves the room with the papers in her hand. Jimmy unlocks the door and lets you in, immediately hugging you.

“You look nice.” he says, smiling. “Sorry the door was locked, habit already.”

“Oh,” you wave him off, “No biggie, I just heard the music and figured everyone was in the backyard.”

John leans back in his chair a little to look at you and he smiles, “I love that dress on you.”

“Thank you, Jonathan.” you say as you walk over to John, and he wraps his arm around your waist, “So, what were you three doing? Don’t think I didn’t notice you all standing around and looking at some papers.”

John laughs and shakes his head, “It was nothing, they just want to build something in the basement and wanted my input.”

“Hmm,” you squint your eyes at him as Tess walks into the room, “What were you three doing? What were those papers?”

“We want to build something in the basement and we asked John for help.” she says without looking at you, “We want to make a movie room so when we have our shows, we can all sit down there and watch. Oh yeah, and for Jimmy’s buddies, they can watch games down there.”

You look back and forth between the three of them and sit down next to John, “Okay, some secret society that I’m not allowed to be a part of, I got it.”

“Oh, shut up.” Tess laughs and leans against the counter, “So, what did you two get up to today?”

“Went into the city to get some supplies.” John says and takes a drink of his beer, then offers you a sip, which you take. “Gonna bind a book for mom’s birthday.”

Tess rolls her eyes, “Don’t brag.”

“I know. What’s even worse is that it’s a first edition of Jane Eyre, so now she’s gonna give us shit about how we don’t get her anything nice.” you laugh and shove John’s shoulder, “Damn you for being so…talented.”

John shakes his head and looks at Jimmy, “How is work?”

“It’s been pretty good.” he says and moves to the fridge to grab a beer, “You know the cliche story of a cop saving a cat from a tree? That was me the other day.”

Tess laughs, “So it’s been boring for him, like always.”

“I’d rather have boring days though. I couldn’t handle being a big city cop. I used to get calls to John’s house all the time,” Jimmy says, popping the cap on his beer, “That was hard enough.”

John starts to laugh and nods his head, “That’s probably true.”

“Noise complaints.” Jimmy chuckles, then takes a sip of his beer.

“What happened the first time you went over there?” Tess asks and sits down on the stool next to John.

“Well, it had been my first week at the station, so this was quite a few years ago. I had a pretty good week, but I was waiting for a really interesting call. You know how you watch Cops on TV and you see the most ridiculous things? A cow stuck in someone’s house, a man running around town naked. That’s what I was hoping for.”

“And boy, were you wrong.” you laugh.

“My shift was almost over and someone asked me to take their call for them. Some people were complaining about the noise, I guess.” he says and shakes his head, “I got in my car, drove to John’s house and knocked on the door.”

Tess props her head on her hand and laughs, “Were you scared?”

“At first, no, I’m trained in this kind of thing. But when I got to his house, I was terrified.” Jimmy laughs, “There were dead bodies just in his house, and I didn’t know what to do. I just saw this man…standing there, and behind him were about four guys, just…dead on the floor.”

John reaches for your hand and you scoot closer to him to let him know you’re not uncomfortable. He looks over at you, then leans down to kiss you quickly. He’s always so scared that you’re going to think he’s a monster, but you could never. John is…incredible. He’s the best man you know.

“I’m okay.” you whisper and nod, “It’s interesting actually.”

“I had to handcuff John, of course. He had dead people in his house. I called for backup, and then about 30 seconds later, the police chief called. He asked for his name and when I told him it was John Wick, he just told me to leave. I went back to talk to John, who was just sitting there waiting for me, and I was so scared of him. He could have killed me within five seconds, but he didn’t.” Jimmy laughs, “He was actually really cool.”

“That is so hot.” you laugh, and Tess looks over at you as she starts to laugh. “I’m sorry, that’s so fucking hot, John.”

“You are a legend.” Tess says, grabbing his arm as his cheeks turn red.

“He is.” Jimmy nods, “When I got back to the station, all the other guys were surprised that John didn’t kick my ass.”

“He would never.” you look at John and squeeze his hand, “You’re his best friend.”

“Well, I wasn’t then.” Jimmy laughs, “Once I got back to the station, they told me that John Wick was the John Wick. Baba Yaga.”

“Ooh, yeah. I forget he’s scary or something.” Tess teases, nudging John’s shoulder.

“Well, to be fair, you two have never seen him working.” Jimmy lets out a big breath then laughs, “Anyway, they decided anytime there were calls concerning John that I would be the one to handle them. I went over so much that all I had to do was ask John if he was working. A simple yes or no was all I needed. It was usually a yes.”

“Hey, John,” Tess cocks up an eyebrow, “You workin’?”

A smile spreads across John’s face and he lets out the cutest laugh. Pressing kisses to John’s cheek, you move to sit in his lap and he wraps his arms around you.

“You workin’, John?” you ask, and he shakes his head as he leans forward to kiss you. You look back at Jimmy and furrow your brow, “So, wait…you’re not from Mill Neck?”

“Nope.” Jimmy shakes his head, “Well, you know I work for the Oyster Bay Police Department, and so when I got out of the academy, I moved there. I ended up coming here so much, I just fell in love with it.”

“Yeah, you just kind of fall in love with Mill Neck, it’s weird.” Tess says, shaking her head.

Jimmy leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, “I just got an apartment here since I couldn’t afford a house.”

“Neither could I.” you laugh, trying to make Jimmy feel better. “I remember researching so much about Mill Neck before we moved here and I almost fainted when I saw the prices for things, but April wanted us to move here so bad, there was no way I could just say no. And mom and Dan pitched in quite a bit of money for us to move.”

“Plus April offered for us to live here rent free -- which we turned down, of course.” Tess smiles, and you roll your eyes, “Okay, so maybe paying rent was your idea.”

John wraps his arms around you tighter and kisses your cheek, “You’re so cute.”

“Do you try to pay John rent?” Tess laughs.

John laughs and nods his head, “She did try to pay me rent once, back when she first moved in. She came into the office when I was on a call with someone, and she just sat there and stared at me until I hung up. Then she just put about 700 dollars in front of me and said it was her share of the rent.”

Tess looks at you as she shakes her head, “You are so dumb.”

“Well, we hadn’t talked much about money and all of that stuff, so I figured since I didn’t really pay for things around the house, I’d give him money to pay for something.” you laugh and look at John, “But now I’m getting…a little bit better. I just don’t want anyone to think I’m just dating him for his money.”

“Whoever thinks that can get fucked.” Tess says, and John nods his head in agreement. “You’re clearly in love with him, and anyone who can’t see that is…”

“Stupid as fuck.” Jimmy chimes in, and you all start to laugh.

“I just remembered mom was so happy to see that the crime rate was so low here.” Tess chuckles, and you all look at John as he takes a sip of his beer.

He smiles smugly and shrugs, “What can I say?”

You let out a small laugh, then look up at Jimmy, “So, how did you two meet? Did you just go over for a noise complaint and then ask John out for a drink?”

“Yeah, we met that first night, but we didn’t really talk obviously. I would talk to John a little when I’d go over, just a casual conversation since I would be pretty nervous, and when I get nervous, I tend to just talk a lot. But I’d see him around town sometimes.”

John laughs and clears his throat, “We ran into each other at the grocery store, it was weird.”

“It was weird to not see John covered in blood or without cuts on all his face.” Jimmy adds.

Tess laughs, “God, now I’m just imagining you two just standing there in the bread aisle.”

“Anyway, we said hi, then we bumped into each other again at the check out.” Jimmy leans against the counter and laughs, “We hung out a time or two, then I didn’t go over to his house for awhile.”

Tess looks at John and smiles, “You retired?”

“Yeah.” John nods and shifts under you a little.

“But after all of that stuff, we bumped into each other again at the gas station, and I asked him about his car.” Jimmy clears his throat and smiles, “Man, I thought John was so cool.”

“Oh, whatever, you still do.” Tess laughs and shoves Jimmy’s shoulder as his cheek turn pink.

“I had just recently gotten out of a relationship -- a pretty serious relationship actually, and I wanted to start dating.”

“That’s so weird. To think that you were ever dating someone other than Tess.” you smile, looking at the two of them, “It’s just…weird. It feels like you two were always supposed to be together.”

“Aw!” Tess teases and moves to stand next to Jimmy, “He had some pretty tragic relationships before me.”

“I did.” Jimmy wraps his arms around Tess and kisses her cheek, “I was in a serious relationship for about two years, I tried to propose to her and she shut me down before I could even get down on one knee. I figured she was just...not ready, so I waited a little while longer, proposed again and she still said no.”

“Oh, no.” you frown. “Did she maybe just…not want to get married?”

“No, she did. We had talked about it several times.” he says, and Tess leans back to look at him. “She said she wanted to get married, but she never said that it was me that she wanted to marry.”

“Oh,” you frown again, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I think she just kept me around to…have someone. I don’t think she was ever really in love with me. I knew I wanted to get married and have kids, so I decided I wasn’t going to waste my time being with her since it wasn’t what she wanted. Not with me anyway.” he squeezes Tess in his arms and she smiles. “Then I bumped into John again, and I just asked if he wanted to grab a drink sometime. We went to a bar and watched a game. I didn’t pester him about what I would see every time I went over to his house.”

“Which I appreciated.” John says.

“I tried to act cool, but I was curious. I wanted to know everything.” he says and watches John as he leans up to kiss your cheek, “But after hanging out with him for awhile, I finally got him to open up a little more. He seemed like a lonely guy, and there was no reason for him to be sitting at home alone all the time. So I told him that I was dating, and that if he was interested, I would set him up on some dates.”

“Yeah, you set him up on several bad dates, or so I’ve heard.” you say, cocking up an eyebrow.

“To be fair, I didn’t know about you yet. If I had, I would have set you two up right away.” Jimmy says and wraps his arms around Tess tighter, “I remember when he told me about you.”

You look at John as his cheeks turn red, and he looks down at his hand on your thigh. John has told you all about the first time he ever saw, he remembers everything. But now you’re interested in hearing what Jimmy has to say.

“He had just gotten back from a date with Rachel, and he was pissed.” Jimmy laughs, “He called me and I could just hear it in his voice. I came over and he told me that he was done going dates that I set him up on.”

“What was so bad about it?” you ask, looking at John.

“She was…not my type. She complained about everything. Now that I think about it, she reminds me a lot of Leah.”

Tess laughs loudly, “Which means she was fucking horrible!”

John looks up at you and smiles, “My date with you was so different from my date with her. It was a complete 180. It was perfect.”

“Yeah…” you nod, then lean your forehead against John’s.

“Did you kiss her?” Tess asks, a smile growing on her face.

“Rachel?” John asks, then shakes his head, “No.”

“Did you at least--” Tess stops herself, “You know what? I won’t even go there. It’s not my business.”

“I’m proud of you, babe.” Jimmy teases.

“No,” John shakes his head, “Nothing happened.”

“Wait…” you lean closer to John, “You hadn’t been…intimate with anyone since Helen? Like, not even a kiss?”

John looks at you and smiles, “Not until you.”

You look away from John as a smile spreads across your face, and you feel a surge run through your body and you’re not sure what it is. Satisfaction, maybe? Satisfaction that John hasn’t been with anyone in years except you. Satisfaction that he wasn’t even interested in anyone like that until he met you.

“Didn’t you go out with her again?” Jimmy asks, and Tess slaps his arm. “What? I’m pretty sure he did. Like two more times.”

“One more time. She kept bothering me to ask her out again, and I thought maybe she was just having an off day.” John says, then reaches for your hand, “She was not just having an off day, she was just…”

“A bitch. It’s okay, John. You can say it.” Tess laughs.

“That’s the night he called me pissed as hell. He was like ‘I’m done doing this, Jimmy. I can’t keep going out with these girls’.” he says, trying his best to impersonate John, and you all laugh. “I knew something was going on because he kept looking out the window, like he was looking for someone. And he was.”

You feel yourself blushing, and John leans up to press another kiss to your cheek. Tess is watching the two of you as she leans her head back against Jimmy’s shoulder, and she smiles wide when you look at her.

“He told me he wasn’t interested in me setting him up on dates anymore, because he had seen someone that he wanted to talk to and maybe ask out.” Jimmy chuckles, “We went outside to ‘look’ at my car, then I saw you and realized why he was so nervous to talk to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you laugh, feeling your cheeks burning again.

“This is weird because you’re like my little sister, but you’re very….”

“Beautiful.” Tess says, finishing his sentence for him.

“You were outside with Tess actually.” he says and smiles at Tess. “John didn’t even have to point you out, I just knew he meant you. The two of you were sitting on the little bench that’s out front, and Tess must have said something funny -- like she always does -- because the two of you started laughing loudly. Absolute angels, you two.”

John bounces on his knee a few times, and you look down to find him smiling at you. You rub your finger against his beard and lean forward to kiss him a few times. Jimmy clears his throat to turn the attention back to him, and you smile as you look over at him again.

“So, anyway, I asked him why he hadn’t talked to you yet, and he just…completely shut down.”

“He was scared. Oh, my god. You were scared of her?” Tess asks, moving to sit down next to John again.

“I wasn’t scared of her.” John shakes his head and smiles, “Actually, yeah, I was pretty scared of her.”

Jimmy leans against the counter and laughs, “I remember he called me right after he talked to you, and I went over to his house. I walked in the front door and his face was as white as a ghost. He just sat on the couch and stared at the floor.”

“Jesus.” Tess laughs.

“He told me that he finally talked to you, said he thought he was already in love.”

You laugh loudly, “He did not.”

“I did.” John nods, pulling you closer. “I told you that I knew right away.”

You and John hold each others gazes for a few moments as a smile spreads across your face and tears fill your eyes. You lean your forehead against John’s and sniffle quietly.

“I love you.” he whispers, and you nod your head as he cups your face. “My girl.”

Tess is staring at the two of you, watching in awe. She puts her hand over her heart and smiles, “I love you two.” she looks over at Jimmy and points at him, “Why don’t you say sweet stuff like that to me? I’m your wife, you ass.”

“I do too!” Jimmy laughs, “We have reservations for that nice restaurant tonight, I made you a nice bath this morning, I gave you a foot massage yesterday. I made you breakfast in bed the other morning, and I took you to your favorite cafe today for lunch.”

“See how most of those things had to do with food?” Tess looks down at her belly and sighs, “This kid is gonna be a chunk.”

Jimmy laughs and pats Tess’ hand, “I love you, babe.”

Tess squints her eyes at Jimmy, then slowly starts to smile as she looks over at you, “He really is very sweet to me.”

“Oh, I know he is.” you laugh, then gasp, “Oh, my gosh, I forgot to tell you. John tried to get me to do self defense yesterday. Threw me on a mat, pinning me to the floor and everything.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It was so fun.” you laugh and look at John, then you jut out your bottom lip dramatically as he laughs. “He was actually getting mad at me though.”

“I wasn’t.” he shakes his head, then looks at Tess, “I wasn’t. I was just trying to teach her some self defense and she would not be serious.”

“We should all do that sometime.” Tess says and looks back and forth between John and Jimmy, “You two could teach us some self defense.”

John points at you and laughs, “She can’t be serious for two minutes, and I can’t imagine trying to teach you and her.”

“Oh, please. I can totally be serious.” you say and look over at Jimmy and Tess as she moves closer to kiss him.

The two of them start making out, and you and John look at each other in shock. Tess wipes off her mouth and reaches out for Jimmy’s hand, “I’m sorry. Pregnancy hormones.”

“Oh, I…” you watch as they walk past, and you hear them heading up the stairs to their bedroom, “Okay, goodbye?”

“Yeah, you’re gonna want to leave. Call you tomorrow.” Tess says, and a few seconds later you hear their bedroom door close.

“We should definitely head home.” John says and quickly gets up from his chair.

“That was so…” you snap your fingers and laugh, “It was like lightning quick.”

As soon as you get outside, John finally slows down and reaches out to hold your hand, “I had a good day.”

“You did?” you wrap your arms around John’s bicep and lean up to kiss him.

“I got to spend time with you. Of course I had a good day.” he says, stopping at the mailbox to check the mail.

“I’m glad we went out there today. It was nice to spend some time with you since I’ve barely seen you since you’ve been home from work.” you lean against the mailbox and sigh, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, peach.” John smiles and leans down to kiss you, “I know I’ve been a little busy lately, I’m sorry. I just have some stuff I need to get done by tomorrow.”

“It’s okay. I just miss you.” you frown, pouting a little more than intended. John bends down a little in front of you, waiting for you to hop on his back, and you laugh loudly and shake your head, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“It’s just our driveway, no one will see anything.” he stands up straight and looks at you, “Aren’t you wearing underwear?”

“Well, yeah.” you shove John jokingly and laugh, “Of course I am. You know that, you saw that earlier.”

John shrugs, “I don’t believe you.”

“What? You think I took them off before I left the house?” you walk in front of John, heading up the driveway as you laugh, “You amaze me, Jonathan.”

You hear the gravel under John’s feet as he chases after you, and you start to run across the driveway to the grass as you both laugh. He wraps his arms around you from behind and pulls you tight against his chest to keep you from escaping. He lifts you off the ground, and you laugh loudly as he rubs his beard against your neck, tickling you.

“I’m wearing underwear, Jonathan.” you tilt your head back and smile, “You can even check if you want.”

John smiles as he slides his hand between your legs and onto your underwear. He watches you closely as he pulls them to the side, rubbing his fingers against you teasingly and you struggle to keep your eyes open. You hang your head as you moan, and you dig your nails into John’s arm when he slides one finger in deep. You feel John’s lips on your neck and tilt your head back, giving him more access.

“Fuck, let’s go inside. Please.” you whisper and open your eyes to John still smiling.

John lets go of you and sucks on his fingers as he walks away from you, “If you can catch me…”

“Your legs are longer, so you’re faster than me. Clearly that is so not fair.” you say as you slowly walk closer to John.

He stops walking and you run up to him, wrapping your arms around him, and he holds tight to you as he walks to the house. John lets go of you when you get in the house, and you smile when see the bulge growing in his pants already.

You kick off your shoes and look at John, “So, since you know, we were so rudely interrupted earlier, do you wanna…?”

John nods his head and begins to unbuckle his pants, “Yes!”

“Okay…” you slide your underwear off and toss them to John, then you slowly unbutton the front of your dress and slide it open to show you’re still not wearing a bra. You toss it to him and slowly turn around, “You like what you see?”

“Wow.” he whispers breathlessly, and he reaches out for you as he walks closer.

You giggle loudly as you run up the stairs, “If you can catch me…”

taglist: @girl-at-the-verge @ladyren33 @avxgers @thelovedpessimist @ficsnroses @thepastrecedes01 @chickyan @weird-civilian @dangerouslystrangecrown @meetmeinthematinee @starsstripesandthesouth @cheekybluefox @beyond-antares @tnu-ree @sanctuarygirl @jessicajones616 @ou8i8 @sterekislyf @celestiaelisia @ladiesofamidala @sgt-morgan @shominoods @sweetgoodangel @lainalainalain @raveviolet @deviljoonie @ibelielveinmusic @hhighkey @lokismortallove @vladtoly @daily-evanstan @ehggowo @chicksamwitch @star017 @wild-andfluorescent @whatcolourisanorange @requested-memory @cutelittlemagicalsouls @xoxokeanuxoxo @a--1--1--3

#john wick imagine #john wick x you #john wick x reader #fic: hold my hand #:)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) AHHHHHHH #that's my excitement #i love yall #be kind

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xxx-cat-xxx · 5 years

Text

At least I didn’t puke on you

I kept my promise for a happy fic! This is for @toomuchtoread33 who sent me a prompt in which Peter accidently takes Steve’s emergency pills that are designed to make him sick in case he gets poisoned.

Cue Tony and Steve spending a night on the bathroom floor with a very pukey Peter Parker. This is fluff/humour with a lot of Irondad.

As always, a million thanks to my beta @whumphoarder.

“It won’t stop bleeding.” Tony crashes into the sofa, pressing a wad of tissues against his nose.

“That’s what happens when you retract your helmet in the middle of a battle to mock a Hydra agent,” Steve comments, setting down his plate after finishing the last piece of pizza.

“She had it coming. Did you see that suit? I made better designs when I was seven!” Tony protests nasally. “And what’s the fun of a battle if you can’t have a little chit-chat with your enemy?”

“Maybe it wasn’t the best move to call her Hello Kitty.”

“You did what?” Peter laughs so hard he nearly chokes on his slice of mushroom.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, make fun of me…” Tony removes the tissue from his bloody nose and sniffles experimentally. “At least I didn’t get knocked into a wall. Speaking of which, you’ve been quiet, kid. You sure you’re okay?” He eyes the boy critically.

“I’m good,” Peter assures, even as he visibly squints against the lights. “Just got a headache, no big deal.”

“Do you want another ice pack?” Steve asks, removing the one he’s been pressing against his sprained wrist and offering it to Peter.

“No, I’m okay.” Peter prods at the bump on his head and grimaces in pain. “It should be fine in a few hours. Before the bite, I would’ve just taken some painkillers, but now they don’t work on me anymore...”

“Maybe...” Steve exchanges a quick glance with Tony. “You know, Bruce and Tony developed those special painkillers to keep up with my metabolism? They don’t work a hundred percent, but they should definitely take the edge off.”

“Are you sure?” Peter looks at Tony. “It’s just a headache.”

As the current world champion in understating pain, Tony knows exactly what “just a headache” means when coming from a member of his superhero family. Peter already looks dead tired from the battle and there is no reason for him to be in unnecessary pain.

“That’s exactly what we made the pills for. Go ahead, kid. But only one, I don’t want to get in trouble with your aunt for drugging you up.”

“They’re in the medicine cabinet in the first floor bathroom,” Steve adds.

Peter disappears in search of the pills while Tony and Steve have their usual argument about which movie to watch. They settle on Aliens, partly because science fiction is the common denominator between the whole team, and partly because both of them know that it’s one of Peter’s favourites.

Tony waits until the kid has returned and curled up on the couch before he starts the movie. Since the mission has clearly taken its toll, he halfway expects all of them to fall asleep within half an hour. But the Nostromo crew has just landed on the alien planet when Peter suddenly sits up straight, his face screwed up in discomfort.

“Uh, Mr Stark?” he says, voice strained. “I’m not feeling so great.”

“Yeah, it takes some time for the painkillers to kick in.”

“No, I mean, I feel kinda queasy.” Peter swallows convulsively. “Like I’m gonna puke.”

Tony tenses, exchanging a worried look with Steve. “FRI, I thought you said it was only a mild concussion?” He glances at Peter, who is now hunching over, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Sweat is beading on his brow.

“Yes, boss, my scans indicate no severe damage,” the AI replies.

“Mr. Stark…” Peter gulps, all colour draining from his face.

“Shit. Come on.” Tony gets to his feet with a bit of difficulty and ushers Peter towards the bathroom.

The boy drops to his knees in front of the toilet and leans over the bowl, spitting strings of saliva into the water. He burps wetly and gives an involuntary whimper. “I feel really sick.”

“I get it, kid. Just, do what you gotta do. You’ll feel better once it’s out.” Tony sincerely hopes that he’s right.

Peter doesn’t need to be told twice. He coughs drily, then gags. The first retch brings a bit of liquidy vomit, then he heaves hard, a gush of half-digested pizza pouring into the bowl. He coughs and chokes, barely able to draw a breath in before his whole body shudders and he vomits again.

“Easy, kid,” Tony soothes, awkwardly patting his back. He can feels the muscles under Peter’s shirt contracting when the boy brings up another wave.

“Oh - god,” Peter pants, his fingers clenching the bowl hard. “This is -” He’s cut off by another retch that brings tears to his eyes.

“Breathe, Pete, breathe,” Tony comforts, feeling his own stomach twist in sympathy.

Peter coughs and spits out bile, then shakily reaches up to flush. He folds his arms on the edge of the seat and lets his head fall onto them, trembling.

Tony wets a washcloth and nudges Peter to lift his face so that he can wipe the kid’s mouth. He fills a glass of water and offers it to him, but Peter shakes his head, lips pressed tightly together. He is still ghostly pale, sweat running down his temples.

“Okay, what the hell is happening? That looks like an awful lot like food poisoning, but we all ate the same dinner…” Tony tries for a light tone despite the worry gnawing in his gut.

“I think I have an idea.” Tony turns around to see Steve in the doorway, a weird expression on his face. Peter groans, visibly embarrassed by the fact that Captain America is watching him puke.

“What’s it?” Tony demands.

“Peter, are these the pills you took?” Steve holds up a bottle. ‘Super pills to save America’s ass’ is scribbled on them in Tony’s handwriting. Peter glances up from where his head is resting on his elbows and nods weakly.

“Oh shit,” Tony breathes, understanding sinking in.

“What’s wrong with them?” Peter croaks.

“These aren’t the painkillers. These pills are designed to make you sick. They’re -” Steve starts, but is interrupted by Peter suddenly pushing himself upright and retching again. The soldier cringes at the sound of liquid hitting the bowl.

“Why would anyone invent pills that make you puke?” Peter whines as soon as he surfaces again.

“We developed them in case Cap ever gets poisoned,” Tony explains. “There aren’t many things that can kill a supersoldier, but he’s not immune to toxins so we figured it would be a viable possibility that someone would try to take him out that way. So Bruce had this brilliant idea for a formula that would induce vomiting, and… Let’s just say he test trials were a lot of fun.”

“Don’t remind me,” Steve grumbles.

“I can’t believe this,” Peter groans, dropping his head back onto his arms.

“Hey, this is Cap’s fault,” Tony points out. “Rogers, you should have gone with him and showed him which pills to take.”

“You should have labeled the medicines correctly!” Steve retorts.

Peter interrupts their argument by belching up another mouthful of vomit.

“Geez, kid, I never would’ve thought this much food could fit in you,” Tony comments with a mixture of disgust and actual admiration.

“It’s not funny!” Peter complains. “I really don’t feel well.”

“I know, kid, I know,” Tony reassures, his expression softening. He picks up the washcloth and wipes it over Peter’s sweaty face. “I’m just glad that it’s nothing dangerous. The effects should wear off in a couple of hours. But till then I‘m afraid that you’re in for a rough time.”

“There’s not even anything left in me. Why am I still nauseous?” Peter whines, coughing weakly into the bowl.

It’s been two hours and countless rounds of puking, and Tony feels wiped. Guilt creeps up on him at that thought because he knows that Peter must be feeling far, far worse.

“I am so done,” the boy croaks hoarsely. He reaches for the handle to flush and misses. His hand slips off the tank and he lists dangerously to the side. Only Tony’s steadying hands keep him from hitting his head on the bathtub.

“Hey, Pete, careful,” Tony says, alarmed. “Are you feeling dizzy?”

“A little, maybe,” Peter admits. “Head’s kind of floating. ’m really tired...”

“You’re not going to like this, but you’ll have to try some water sooner or later. You’re getting dehydrated.” Tony lets go of Peter’s shoulders, and the boy sags tiredly against him.

“Hmm. In a bit,” he mumbles, his eyelids fluttering shut.

He dozes off like this, his head pressed against the older man’s chest. After a while, Tony’s back starts to hurt. He tries to adjust his awkward position without waking the kid, carefully guiding his head to rest on Tony’s thighs instead. Peter shivers in his sleep and curls into himself, looking far too pale and far too young.

Tony frowns as a sudden wave of protectiveness floods over him. He reaches up for a towel that he gently drapes over the kid, then leans his own head back against the bathtub, feeling like all energy has been sucked out of him.

Twenty minutes later, he’s startled awake by a knock on the door. Steve sticks his head inside. “Do you need anything?” he asks.

“No, Spangles, we’re perfectly happy.” Tony grimaces when he tries to sit up straighter and his back protests in pain.

“Shouldn’t we move him to bed?” Steve motions at Peter’s sleeping form in Tony’s lap. “This doesn’t look very comfortable for either of you.”

“Thanks, didn’t occur to me at all.”

Fact is, Tony is just happy that Peter is finally getting some rest and he feels a bit wary of what will happen if they wake him up. On the other hand, he knows that neither his nor the kid’s body will be happy if they spend the whole night on the bathroom floor. He really should’ve considered situations like this when designing the compound. His brain immediately comes up with the preliminary outline of an inflatable couch that could be hidden beneath the bathroom floor tiles which he stores in his memory for later use.

“Hey, kid.” He gently touches Peter’s shoulder. “Nighty-night time, come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

Peter rouses groggily, leaning heavily on Steve as he helps him stand up. Just as Tony feared, he looks about to hurl the moment he gets to his feet, so Tony makes a quick detour for a mixing bowl from the kitchen while Steve guides the kid to the elevator.

The motion of the lift definitely doesn’t help with the nausea. As soon as they sit him down on the edge of his bed, Peter is throwing up again, gagging miserably into the bowl that Tony holds under his chin. He only brings up strings of bile.

“Geez…” Tony rubs a hand through his hair. “That pill really works, doesn’t it?”

Peter is too out of it to reply with more than a weak glare. He falls onto the mattress like a doll that’s had its strings cut, not even reacting when Captain America himself tucks him in. Tony goes to rinse out the bowl, and when he returns, the Spider-kid is deeply asleep.

Peter wakes up a few hours later. There is a moment of confusion before he remembers what happened and how he got back to his own bedroom. His stomach muscles hurt, his mouth tastes like something died in it a long time ago, and he is still vaguely nauseous.

He turns around to see Tony sprawled out on the couch, snoring lightly. Steve is sitting in an armchair next to his bed, an actual book in his hands (Peter is momentarily surprised that anything non-digital actually even exists in Tony’s compound), smiling at him.

“How are you feeling, Peter?” Steve asks.

“Better, I think,” Peter mumbles hoarsely. “Lightheaded. And, um, still kinda sick.”

“Okay. That’s to be expected.”

“How’s you wrist?”

“Good as new.” Steve moves the hand up and down in front of Peter’s face. “And definitely looking better than Tony is right now.”

Peter props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at his mentor’s face. True to Steve’s word, it’s covered by an impressive array of rainbow-coloured bruises. Tony mumbles something in his sleep and turns his face away into the cushion, almost as if he’s aware he’s being talked about.

“You should drink something.” Steve brings his attention back to Peter. “You think you’re up for it?”

“Maybe...Can I brush my teeth first?” Peter is sure if he swallows whatever taste is in his mouth, he will definitely be sick again.

“Sure,” Steve agrees.

Peter sits up and swings his feet over the side of the bed, then waits for a bit until the grey fades from his vision before carefully making his way to the bathroom. He sits down on the edge of the bathtub while brushing, his legs feeling weak.

“I’m sorry that you have to go through this, Peter,” Steve says, stepping inside. The bathroom is huge, but the supersoldier takes up so much space that it actually looks normal.

Peter spits out his toothpaste. “It’s not your fault, Captain Rogers. I should have looked better before taking the medicine.” He hesitates for a second, but Steve seems ready for a chat. “Just one thing I was wondering - did you ever actually use this pill?”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Steve’s brow furrows. “I still feel sick if I think about that time.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Peter asks, always curious about old Avengers stories. He rinses his mouth and, god, the fresh taste is so good that he almost feels healthy again.

“If you drink some Gatorade, I will,” Steve baits, handing him a bottle.

“Hmm. Okay,” Peter agrees, sounding unmotivated.

He stares at the bottle for a moment, then opens it with a sigh. His stomach is still far from fine, and he feels like even a small sip of liquid might make it turn against him again.

“Just a little bit,” Steve encourages.

Peter takes a tiny sip and sits very, very still while he feels it moving down his throat and settling heavily into his stomach. He burps sickly, nervously eyeing the toilet. For a minute he is sure he’s going to be sick again, but then the nausea eases down a little.

“You’re holding up okay?” Steve asks.

“Hmm.” Peter nods, not keen on opening his mouth at the moment.

“Okay. Storytime.” Steve sits down on the closed toilet seat. “So, I wasn’t actually poisoned. But a couple of years ago, Bruce cut his thumb while cooking and a bit of his blood mixed with the curry he was preparing.You know that his blood is toxic, right?

Peter nods. He’s been told about this, but he’d never thought about the practical implications.

“So, he went off to bandage his finger,” Steve goes on, “just as I happened to walk into the kitchen after going for a run.” He looks a bit sheepish. “It smelled really good and, well, you know how it is with an enhanced metabolism…”

(Peter is starting to wonder if his Parker Luck™ has somehow infected Steve as well.)

“Honestly, it was lucky that it was me. Anyone else would have probably died on spot...but getting the toxin out of my system wasn’t pretty.”

“That’s...bad,” Peter says, failing to hide a grin. He can vividly imagine the scene playing out in his mind’s eye. His nausea has decreased enough that he feels safe to talk again and he takes another few sips of Gatorade. “Was that the only time you used the pills?”

“Yeah, that was the only time. But then there were also the test trials...I threw up all over Tony’s pants.”

“Well, I got my revenge.” Tony is standing in the doorframe, looking tired and beat up, his hair standing up in all directions. One of his eyes is swollen almost shut. “Nothing like a severe concussion to ruin America’s star-spangled uniform.” He yawns. “How are you feeling, kid? Stopped reenacting The Exorcist?”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” Peter says drily. “At least I didn’t puke on anyone.”

“He’s had a few sips of Gatorade and it looks like it’s staying down,” Steve informs the engineer.

“That’s good.” Tony rubs at his working eye with a groan, then looks at himself in the mirror and grimaces. “There goes Thursday’s Vanity Fair photoshoot…”

Steve takes a deep, measured breath while Peter tries to keep himself from bursting into laughter.

“Spiderling, you go back to sleep,” Tony orders, turning back to give Peter a once-over. “You look like you’re going to keel over any minute. Once you wake up, ask Dum-E for a proper breakfast.” He frowns. “Actually, scratch that. Ask Cap. Less chance he’ll set the kitchen on fire.”

“Please don’t talk about food..:” Peter’s stomach clenches at the thought. “Not before tomorrow morning.”

“Noted.” Tony grins. “Now out, all of you. I gotta pee.”

“It’s my bathroom!” Peter protests.

“Yeah, and it’s my house,” Tony retorts. He watches with a warm smile as Steve puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder and guides the boy out of the room. "Good night, sleep tight, and don’t puke on the bedbugs.”

If you’re interested in a hilarious story about Tony and Bruce cooking up painkillers for Steve, keep an eye out for @whumphoarder‘s and @awesomesockes‘ upcoming fic.

@badthingshappenbingo - This is my promptfill for the “Poison” square.

All my fics

#sick peter #sick peter parker #irondad #spiderson #tony stark #steve rogers #peter parker #badthingshappenbingo #poisoned #tony stark has a heart #sickfic #fanfic #vomiting #emeto

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borrovvedyoongi · 5 years

Text

Off Season

kinda like that one taylor swift song but not really, promise. instead, it involves basketball

jaehyun x reader

have I mentioned I'm a band nerd ;)

word count: 2,405

One of the redeeming qualities about your school was most definitely not the class average attendance or the sports teams lack of winning streaks, but hey, give all the money and glory and attention to them and leave the fine arts kids out of it. Are you pissed? Oh, most certainly.

There's little to no funds for the art class, drama class, choir class, and most certainly not the band. At least it's not like one of those cliche movies where you guys are bullied. It's better, no one pays attention to you. It's honest to God good that no one pays attention to students like you, because the popular kids are always caught up in their own petty shit. The dumbest of all shits. Who sent nudes to who, who started liking pictures of who, who's eating lunch with who, who shaded who on who's Snapchat story. Like, who gives a damn?

You can at least appreciate the pom and cheer squad because it's not like you can dance or do flips like they do, and at least they can win something. The football team on the other hand, is a complete joke. There has not been one single game last year where they've won. Not. A. Single. One. Even after they lose you have to play the fight song. The best part is that you get to play the song really slowly when they get obliterated. Nine points to fifty-four. It's incredibly pitiful.

Even after football season is over, you still have to play pep tunes for your mediocre team: the basketball team. At least they're not as bad as the football team and can come close to winning, and actually do it, sometimes. The girls' basketball team is playing and they're doing pretty well. Ten points ahead of the visitors. It's halftime, you don't know how the hell the game works, but you're having fun. You're singing "Hey Baby" like it's your last (because it is, senior year baby!) and you feel like you're having the time of your life, on this Friday night.

Your friends snuck in some Dr. Pepper into the stands and you have to drink some water first in order to not wreck the insides of your clarinet. You have 15 minutes to yourself, so you head to the water fountain. You make your way out of the gym, and you see Jaehyun and Chittaphon talking to each other in the hall way. You make sure to take a quick peak at Jaehyun in his basketball uniform without being obvious. If the football team's players are a snack, this guy is a whole ass meal.

He's almost six feet tall, has nice, muscular arms, and a lean body. You have history class with him and he sits right next to you, and you have Johnny sitting right in front of you. Jaehyun constantly has his body facing towards Johnny, considering he is his only friend in history. It gets kinda annoying when they don't shut up and Johnny has to ask you what the teacher was saying, but when Jaehyun asks, your heart might just burst.

He always speaks in a soft voice and taps your shoulder when he needs something. One day he needed a pencil, which is unfortunately the one day you woke up late and forgot to wear a bra and pack your regular clothes to change into after 7 AM marching rehearsals, so you sported a wrinkly, loose tank top and running shorts the whole day.

"Hey, I left my pencil bag at home while revising for the Socratic Seminar, do you have an extra pencil I can borrow?"

Your eyes widen and you always get shocked when he asks you for stuff instead of Johnny, because it's not like you guys are close or anything. It doesn't help that the teacher put the air conditioner on full blast and his warm, soft fingertips leaves your shoulder and heart ablaze.

"Y-yeah! I only use mechanical pencils so I hope you don't mind." You bend down and start digging in your backpack only to hear Johnny snicker in front of you. At first you ignore it because it's Johnny, and the little (pretty gigantic) shithead laughs at everything, like the pictures of nude statues your teacher took during her trip to Italy. It's only when Jaehyun tells him to "stop staring" when you realize what exactly he's laughing at. It's also then that you realize Jaehyun has a perfectly clear view of the predicament you're in, with the room being cold, you practically giving him a free show, and now that you look down, there's a bit of fake grass down there too. When you're in marching band and have to rehearse every morning for two hours, bits and pieces of the turf from the football field starts to collect in your clothes and then you end up having your own little football field.

Damn, do wish I could choke on those turf turds and never have to think of this day ever again. But no, it gets even better. Jaehyun is polite enough to look at the board and pretend whatever happened just now didn't, and when you finally hand him your pencil, he does something that makes your insides turn in twists and makes your cheeks and ears feel hot. He takes off the jacket he has on and drapes it over your shoulders, and gently places his thumb on your collarbone to sweep the little artificial blade of grass off.

Johnny whistles lowly and Jaehyun hits his shoulder hard enough for him to wince, and looks at you with a sincere smile, dimples and all, and says to you "You can wear the hoodie all day if you want to, I don't need it."

You can't tell if you're living in a fantasy at this moment and you just stare at him and say, "You can keep the pencil all day too." You must be seeing things because you see a faint rosy color collect on his cheeks.

After using the water fountain, you're lost in thought about what happened that day and how dreamy and cliche it all was. You're still lost in thought, and when you turn around you bump into someone, with your face burrowed into someone's (might you add) strong chest.

You look up and almost come stumbling down after being taken aback that Jaehyun is the one you bumped into, and he has a strong hold of your arms to keep you steady.

"You okay there?" You like to consider yourself level headed and not easily swooned by a cute face, but his parted hair and sparkly brown eyes is making you melt, and your band polo is just making you warmer as each second passes while his arms are still around you.

"I'm okay now." You smile hoping that he would just let go already because you are this close to sharting yourself. He puts his arms to his sides and steps aside from you to let you go around him and he gets to the water fountain. You're walking away as fast but casually as possible when you hear him talking to Chittaphon again.

"For a band nerd she's kinda cute, huh?"

"Ten, shut up."

"So you do think she's cute!"

The girls' portion of the game is over, with a tie in the end. The boys are up next in ten minutes.

You come back sweating just a teensy beensy bit after the awkward encounter into bumping into Jaehyun, trying to act normal as you slide into the bleachers next to your best friends Doyoung and Yeri. Yeri hands you back your clarinet paying no mind to your expression. Doyoung doesn't miss the flushed look on your face and pesters you about it.

"Did you see him or something? You look like a tomato."

"Thanks Doyoung. Yes, I did. It was awkward and I don't want to think about it." Yeri's ears perk up and faces her whole body to you.

"Well, now you have to, spill." She says. You try to keep your eyes on the leaderboard but instead have it locked on Jaehyun, seeing him stretch.

"You're drooling dear." She giggles. You hit Yeri in the arm and Doyoung laughs.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Guys, the game is about to start." Doyoung whispers. Your band directors have been keeping a close eye on the band to see if you were paying attention or not. Not because they care about the game necessarily, but because playing pep tunes in time the home team scores a point is important. "Loses the effect" if you're seconds late he says.

All these games you've been forced to go to as a band student never interested you, and you never understood what the hell was going on anyways. The only interesting thing was seeing Jaehyun score points.

"You're being so obvious." says Doyoung.

"Suck my left ass cheek." you say in response.

"You fucking wish." You hit him in the arm and Yeri just laughs. You don't know where you would be without your companions.

The game ends with the boys' team winning (about time.) By then it's 10 pm, you're tired, your friends are tired, and you have a clarinet lesson tomorrow in the morning. You just want to skidaddle outta there as fast as you can, but thank goodness you took your time walking and talking with Doyoung and Yeri, otherwise, Jaehyun might've missed the chance to talk to you.

You shoot daggers at Doyoung when you hear him snicker. Yeri gives you a thumbs up while they both watch you gawk at Jaehyun. That boy is truly Adonis reincarnated, hell, perhaps even better.

"I wanted to say sorry for bumping into you earlier and-" you blink back in surprise. Shouldn't this be the other way around? You were the one daydreaming and being distracted.

"I'm sorry to interrupt Jaehyun but, I feel like I'm the one that should apologize. I was the one spacing out and bumped into you.”

“To be totally real with you, I just needed an excuse to talk to you, regardless if it’s your fault or not...which I don’t think it is anyways, but I digress.” you just blink blankly at him.

“Uhm..okay. What is it you wanted to say?” you ask.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yeri smacking her hands and jumping up and down with Doyoung trying to grab her arm to make sure the two of them are out of sight of Jaehyun so they don’t embarrass you. You’ll need to thank Doyoung later.

“I’m really flattered, but why me exactly?” Now it’s Jaehyun’s turn to stare at you blankly.

“Because you’re cute, for one, and you seem like a good time. I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while but couldn’t find the guts to actually ask.” he laughs under his breath while scratching the back of his head.

“Yes.” you say.

“Wait, what?” he says dumbfounded. It physically hurts Doyoung to overhear how slow you guys are to put two and two together and realize you like each other already.

“Yeah, I’d actually love to go on a date with you.”

Jaehyun smiles that precious dimpled smile and says “I’ll text you when I’m picking you up.”

“You know my number?”

He chuckles awkwardly. “I had to ask one of your friends for it because of how shy I was.” You whip your head around to see Yeri and Doyoung scurrying off to the band room. You really need to thank them later. Perhaps yell at them for giving out your private information like that, but definitely thank them.

“I have to get back to my friends, but I’ll reply when you message me Jaehyun.” Before he even has the chance to say anything else, you’re catching up to Yeri and Doyoung to give them a piece of your mind.

The next day rolls around and you're a little drained from your morning lesson. Trying to play F above the staff in tune is probably the most vigorous physical activities you've ever done. You can march all day, eyes closed while using backwards technique, but an F above the staff is something else.

The night before was also draining, considering you stayed up really late at night to wait for Jaehyun's text. You figured his friends dared to ask you out, something like that, because why would a boy that handsome and popular ask you out? Fortunate, very fortunate, that you didn't fall asleep just yet, because when 12:30 AM rolls around, that's when you hear the high pitched ping.

Jaehyun: sorry for texting late! I hope you're not asleep or anything. I just got back from having celebratory pizza with the team. :P

You: Nah, I was just scrolling through my phone haha, I sleep super late because of band and procrastination. Also, don't you have an iPhone? Why are you using regular emoticons lol

Jaehyun: :D well I'm glad you asked. I just find them cuter lmao

Jaehyun: Like you

You would like to think you're a reasonable person. A reasonable person who sees a good opportunity and takes it. This moment is an example of a good opportunity to flirt back. Did you do it? No, instead you were spazzing out on your bed while texting in the group chat for you, Yeri, and Doyoung about the screenshot you just took of the convo with Jaehyun. Precious time spent on spazzing was wasted. A winky face would have sufficed, but no, you just had to react like any teenage girl in some dumb book. Jaehyun changes the subject after exactly 6 minutes of waiting for your reply.

Jaehyun: Does 6 pm sound good for our date?

You: totally

Definitely didn't sound like a surfer just then

Jaehyun: (typing)

At this moment, Jaehyun was deciding whether or not to call you babe and say goodnight. He was typing for so long that you started to panic (for no reason at all.) If your heart wasn't already racing any further, good thing Ten was sleeping over at Jaehyun's and leaning over his shoulder the whole time, because he pressed send.

Jaehyun: That's cool, see you then babe. Night :)

Needless to say, Yeri and Doyoung were blowing up the groupchat after your screenshot.

A/N: what do you guys think? please send commentary, it would mean very much! I’ll be making part 2...at some point.

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct imagines

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