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#plus how they approach working together
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As I continue to work my way through old interviews for …. reasons, I need to share this interview answer from Chimon that BREAKS MY HEART. He got asked, essentially, ‘what is the color of your life’.
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He shares that life was pretty bleak for him a while. Between financial struggles and the pressures put upon him, he had a hard time. He even considered quitting acting before Nanon convinced him not to. So he would have said black to represent that darkness.
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Then he goes on to say this — to share how his world has literally gotten lighter. And Perth plays an important role in that for him. MY HEART. What a beautiful way to describe this.
(And then bonus content because I find it interesting:
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I particularly love the way Perth plays off that. He goes on to say that he finds black very calming and peaceful. It’s a nice way of reframing.
Given they have in interviews both cited loving black as a shared interest, and Chimon now wears so much more black, it feels like he’s maybe adopted this outlook as well.)
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esouliie · 3 months
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DON’T YOU LOVE THE DEVIL?
– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem!reader
– synopsis | wanda was everything you wanted in a mom. she was kind and loving, even to those who weren’t her own children. she, however, loved you in a very different way…
– warnings | porn with plot, non con that turns kinda dub con, smut, mommy kink, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, aftercare, wanda is a perv lmao (18+)
[word count: 3.4k]
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Summer was always your favourite time. It meant avid beach trips, ice cream dates and - most importantly - bestie sleepovers. You enjoyed staying at Natasha's house, which was much larger than yours. Wanda, her mother, was always very kind to you, even more so than your own. Because of this, throughout high school, you found yourself always at the Maximoff’s. When you were going through a difficult time, you would always turn to her for support; she was a solid shoulder to cry on as her hushed whispers soothed you.
Much like your house, Natasha’s dad was never in the picture. And because Wanda never seemed to date, it was always just them two and sometimes you. Their house was your safe haven and Wanda was your beckoning angel. Now in your last year of college, you still find yourself coming to the older woman…
Countless nights, you wished she was your mom instead.
Reaching into your pocket, you fumble around for the front key, feeling its familiar shape between your fingertips.
This was your usual routine – Natasha would text when she was nearly home from work, and you’d arrive shortly after, letting yourself in with the spare key she had given you months ago.
The door swings open with a soft creak, revealing the warmth of the home beyond. The living room is empty, just the faint hum of the TV can be heard.
As you step into the kitchen, the warm aroma of burnt vanilla envelops you. Wanda stands against the island, dressed in a large, red sweater and black skirt, with one hand scrolling through her phone as the other holds a glass of red wine. She looked radiant as ever. A grown woman confident in her own skin and her ability.
“Hey, Wanda.”
She places her phone down and greets you warmly. “Hey there, sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m good.” You take a seat next to her and she busies herself with pouring you a glass of red. You watch her, marvelling at how effortlessly she moves around the kitchen, her movements always graceful and fluid.
"So," Wanda begins, setting the glass in front of you, "another bestie sleepover?"
“Yep! Natasha’s going to be busy with Bucky next week so we’re spending as much time together.”
Wanda scoffs at the mention of her daughter’s partner, “Yeah, she said something about going to his parent’s lake house for the week.”
You hum, reaching for a sip of the wine, awkward in the revelation of Wanda’s distaste for her daughter’s boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like you like him either. You hate him actually. He was always so weird about your friendship with the redhead, always starting arguments around how much you guys hang out together and how he thinks you have a crush on her.
Plus, Natasha was way out of his league and he sometimes treated her like shit. It was only last week when Natasha was complaining about how they had an argument during their date and Bucky left her to find her own way home…
“I really don’t know what she sees in him.”
You sigh, setting the glass back down. “Me neither. He’s an asshole.”
Lost in thought, you fail to notice Wanda’s approach until an arm laid upon your shoulder, and a hand twirled around your curls.
“You know, I always thought Natasha would end up with you.”
Shocked by her confession, you try to respond - to deny that nothing would ever happened - but your mouth is unable to move as her nails scratch against your neck.
Wanda settles down in the stool beside you, hand retreating to stroke down your arm.
"I just don't understand. He’s boring and doesn’t deserve Tasha, whereas, you’re… you’re so much better than him.” She admits softly, her gaze fixed on you.
"You’re so much more than him.”
You shrug, expelling a shaky breath as you watch her manicured nail draw patterns against your exposed skin.
Silence envelopes you both, Wanda deep in thought and you pretend to act calm about the fact that Wanda’s touch has trailed down to your hands, resting in your lap.
“You know if I were her…” Her breath flutters against your ear, “I wouldn’t even think about anyone else… when I have you.”
Your heart skips a beat at her admission.
"I..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.
It felt so wrong, and yet you didn’t want her to stop.
To keep stroking your hand,
To keep whispering in your ear.
To keep close to you.
“I think… I want to kiss you.” Wanda murmurs, her thumb gently running over your lips.
But before you could say anything, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss.
“So pretty.” She whispers, lips closing in once again, but the sudden closing of a door upstairs startles you both as you pull away. Eyes wide in fear that Natasha could’ve seen you kissing her mom.
Wanda leaves her seat, an unreadable expression on her face, and disappears into the living room, Natasha’s thundering footsteps break you from looking at her as she comes downstairs. Her hair is wet, her bangs clinging to her forehead. She must’ve been in the shower.
“You made it!” Natasha exclaims before briefly hugging you and dragging you with her upstairs, “Come on. Let’s watch a movie.”
A few hours later, and a few movies down, you end up back in the kitchen, in search of a drink. You spot Wanda in the living room watching a show, her presence both comforting and unnerving. No longer elegantly dressed, she lounges in a maroon satin night gown. The thin fabric barely covers her long legs as it glows complimentarily against her pale skin.
Summoning as much courage, you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. The drink long forgotten. She recognises your presence but you both don’t say anything, engrossed in some reality show on TV. This distraction works for a while but then, like a shadow in the morning sun, the memory of the kiss surfaces. Heat blossoms against your cheeks but you feel it weighing on your mind, a heavy burden demanding acknowledgement.
“Wanda,” your voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, ‘I think we should talk about earlier.”
With a delayed hum, she turns towards you, waiting patiently for you to continue. Your words stumble out clumsily, faltering as you try to convey the complexity of your emotions. You want to explain that the kiss was wrong, that she was your best friend’s mom and that nothing like that could happen again, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings in the process.
Her expression was unreadable, you could almost hear the pounding of your own heart, the uncertainty hanging thick in the air between you. And then, finally, she speaks.
“I’m sorry, darling. I thought- it was silly and inappropriate of me.” She reaches over to briefly squeeze your hand.
“Let’s forget it happened.”
You exhale with relief, “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”
Quick to change the conversation and clear the awkward tension, Wanda asks, “How come you’re down here anyways? Where’s Natasha?”
“Oh she fell asleep.” You giggle at the unattractive image of your best friend, snoring somewhat loudly and taking up your side of the bed.
“Besides, I’m not really tired, so I thought I’d come down for a drink.”
Wanda hums, a smile on her face at the sight of you giggling so cutely.
But you notice her hands run over bare arms, soothing the goosebumps and the slight shiver, “Are you cold?”
She looks at you for a moment, eyes taking in your concerned features before she nods.
“I’ll get you a blanket.” You move to stand but a grip on your wrist halts you.
“Don’t bother. Just sit here.”
She leans back against the pillows, legs parting slightly. Your brows furrow in confusion.
She tugs your wrist softly, “Don’t think, just come here.”
She pulls you to sit between her thighs, flush against her front as she winds her arms around you. It wasn’t uncommon be hugged by the older woman but it’s never been like this. But despite earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. The room even felt cosier now all that tension was gone. So, you lean back into her embrace, feeling her steady heartbeat against your back and her warm thighs brush against yours.
“Hm, much better. You’ve always run hot.” Her face snuggles into your curls and you giggle.
Her large hands dip, holding softly onto your hips, pulling you even closer with a silent groan, before descending to your thighs. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine, but you maintain composure, thinking nothing of the surely innocent touch as you focus on the TV screen in front of you.
Her touch is gentle, sending a warm current through your body with each stroke. You feel your legs widen, following in the direction of her strokes, not wanting the caress to stop. The show on the TV fades into the background as your attention becomes solely fixated on her.
She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Pretty girl... feels good, doesn’t it?”
You nod, allowing yourself to melt further into her embrace, your head resting against her shoulder instead of watching her hands.
Wanda tuts, “No, baby, head up.”
A single hand moves from your thigh to hold the back of your head, forcing you to look down at your entwined legs. Another hand wanders higher than expected, tracing small circles into your inner thigh, jarring you out of your trance as you go to wiggle free from her grip. “Wanda… that’s-”
Your speech is cut off as fingers slip under your shorts, and you gasp, squirming with renewed vigour. But her hold refuses even the feeblest motions as she wraps an arm around your waist.
“Wanda… please!”
“Don’t think, baby.” She warns again, fingers gliding further into your shorts. “Just let yourself feel good.”
You fight harder, hips snapping away from her touch as hands pry at her wrist. “Get off me!”
“No, you’re not getting up.” You squirm again, and without warning, she digs her nails harshly into your soft skin. “I said, you’re not getting up.”
You whimper in pain and stop your movement. Instantly, her nails pull back from your skin, leaving red angry crescent marks. Those fingertips gently caress the marks to soothe them before moving up under your shirt.
“Good girl.” Those words bring an odd warmth to your body and suddenly you think that letting Wanda have her way with you couldn’t be as bad as you initially thought…
But light fingers caressing up and down your stomach, inching closer to your breasts reminded you of the position you’re in.
This was your best friend’s mom.
Natasha didn’t deserve this.
“Wanda, we can’t… it’s not right. What about Nat-?”
“It’s fine, princess.” She interrupts, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck. “She won’t find out.”
Suddenly, those hands slide up over your bare breasts and gently squeeze. You take in a deep breath and exhale slowly with a soft whimper. Pleased with the response, she begins to knead them kindly alternating between light and firm pressure.
“You like that, baby?” Wanda coos then nibbles on the side of your ear, descending your neck carefully to not leave bites and marks in place.
Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts deeper into her adept grasp, and your defiance fades ever so quickly with each breathy moan.
“Hm, so needy, so responsive…” thumbs swipes over your perked nipples, “and all I’m doing is playing with your tits, princess.”
Your increased whines answer in reply and Wanda doesn’t bother wasting time anymore. Lifting a hand from its spot under your top, she glides down under your shorts. Her lithe fingers ghost over the soaked underwear, travelling low enough to feel the wetness seep from your slit, and she moans lowly at the sensation. “You’re so wet… fuck, is this all for me?”
Battling between not wanting this and giving in to her, you also fight the urge to thrust your hips upwards, to search for some needed friction, to end the maddening ache between your thighs.
The older woman’s light touches feel like heaven and hell as nimble fingers slide up and down the fabric that clung to you, purposely missing where you needed her most.
“That’s it, baby. Relax… let go for me.”
A strange fuzziness washes over you completely as you relax - moral sobriety long forgotten - as your legs spread apart limply for Wanda to grope in every direction.
 “M’kay.” You reply, barely hearing yourself, lost in the moment.
Wanda sighs contently, forever pleased she’s put you in this headspace with such little fight.
Focusing back on your neck, she licks along the flushed skin, and as she bites against your pulse a little harder, the slight pain has you quivering.
You melt into the warm heat below you, head resting against a firm shoulder, as you let out a moan laced with pleasure and slight frustration. Hips bucking slightly back into Wanda’s hoping she’d take the hint and get on with it.
The quicker you gave her what she wanted, the quicker it would be done.
Finally, her index finger slides higher, the tip of her nail just brushing against your clit slightly. Your thighs shake at the motion, wanting to clamp shut around her but never doing so in fear she would stop. A cry falls from your mouth in surprise as her finger finally reaches, circling your swollen nerve endings in a slow yet firm motion.
Your words stumble out clumsily, unable to string a full sentence together as Wanda practically purrs against your ear.
“Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She coos, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, “So well for me… come here.”
Tipping your neck up, she dips forward, pressing her hot lips against your own. A choked note of dismay comes from you as Wanda forces your mouth open and shoves her tongue inside. The older woman dominates the clashing of tongues, making sure that you know your place.
You fail to notice Wanda pull your shorts and panties down from your hips until her fingers press against you harder, and you can’t help but grind against it with such aching desperation. She marvels over how pathetic you look… one minute begging for her to stop and now humping against her like a bitch in heat, swallowing her tongue down your throat.
Such a depraved mental image and yet it only feeds into her desire for you.
To claim you as hers, no matter if you wanted it or not.
Because she didn’t care.
She could feel herself getting wetter, as she met your grinding with her own thrusts, your ass pressing flush against her soaked panties.
The kiss eventually comes to an end, a few hungry strands of saliva briefly clinging to your lips, linking you together. Wanda gazes lovingly at the sight of you, a growing smile on her lips, as you writhe in building pleasure.
“Can you look at me, princess?”
Wanda asks in a sultry tone and you struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the light as her blurry face comes into focus. Her pupils are blown out, partly consuming those emerald irises, her cheeks painted a flushed pink, and her lips part as she pants freely.
She looks so beautiful.
Her green eyes shine clouded over in a different colour than Natasha’s…
Natasha.
Dread seeps into your bones, your body ripped from its relaxed trance as you recall your best friend and how she’s sleeping upstairs as you’re fucked by her mom.
You don’t want to think about how upset she would be to find you like this.
“Baby…” She reels your mind back to focus on her, noticing you’re beginning to spiral. “You ready to come for me?”
Her fingers speed up perfectly but you shook your head in defiance, your mind no longer free to just enjoy Wanda’s touch.
“No,” she coos, “you don’t want to come for me, baby? Don’t want to come for Mommy?”
A whiny no leaves your lips, not giving in to the beautiful temptress behind you.
Annoyed, Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly upset that you wouldn’t just give in to her and that you’re not nestled in that special little headspace anymore.
Without warning, she twists your thigh over the other, ass on show as she lashes out with a sharp slap. You cry out at the unexpected blow, your hands grabbing tightly onto whatever part of the woman you can reach. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push her away or pull her close.
“I thought we were done with that, baby.” She unleashes a few more spanks, “Thought you were going to be my good girl, hm?”
You gasp for air at the same time Wanda gropes your marked flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as she rubs in soothing circles. The breath turns into a choked moan as Wanda spanks you one more time, before returning you to your original position, back to pressing firm circles against your clit.
Once again, you fight her touch. Hips wiggling in each direction until ankles wrap around your legs, locking you in place.
Tight circles turn to quick taps, the once pleasing hand now bringing pain upon your pussy in rapid succession, not allowing you to writhe in her generosity for too long before returning to cruelty.
A beautiful blend that muddled all of your defying thoughts until there was nothing left.
Your body betrayed your mind. Your legs fell completely limp, as you lay at the mercy of the older woman. Taking whatever she deemed necessary to give.
Finally, she had you.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers for me.” She concludes with a kiss on your cheek.
And not caring if you cry loud enough to wake up the rest of the house, her fingers speed up for the last time, sending you headfirst over the edge.
After what felt like hours, Wanda was done with you. You had moved into her bedroom, deciding the sofa was not adequate to continue. Now her head rests against your stomach after she had spread you open to lap up your next orgasm.
Your body spasms randomly, wave after wave of aftershock rolling over you. A warm hand cups your core firmly, and you buck away from the sensitivity, not wanting her touch anymore. But her fingers remain, gliding slowly up and down your slit, marvelling at your swollen skin, before pushing against your entrance.
You’re overwhelmed. What little fight you have left mentally can’t keep up with the fatigue of your exhausted body. If she wanted to, she could have her way with you. Again and again. Fresh tears fall from your eyes as you sob inconsolably into hands covering your face.
Wanda leaves you be, moving up your body to grab onto your wrists.
“Hey, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay…” she coos, fingertips wiping away your tears, “Mommy went too hard on you, didn’t she?”
You struggle to find the words, and Wanda shushes you, stopping you from thinking too much in such a delicate headspace.
You feel movement, feel Wanda get off you, and your eyes snap open in a slight panic but she sits beside you and swiftly draws you onto her lap.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” She says gently, reeling you in with false empathy. She was glad she pushed you too hard you broke.
“Mommy couldn’t help herself.”
You scoot closer, close enough to bury your head into her neck as fingers trail up and down your back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. Can you forgive me?”
Her soothing words are music to your ears as you whimper softly against the woman, not willing to talk or move away. You just want her to hold you.
“Say it, princess. Say you forgive me.”
She guides you out of her neck to look at her.
“I forgive you.” You choke out, upset you’re no longer buried in her chest, as your hands run back to cover your eyes. Too ashamed to even look at her.
“Sweet girl, come here.” Wanda doesn’t wait, moving your hands to wrap around her neck as she kisses you hungrily, swallowing any little disapprovals as you push languidly against her chest, trying to force her mouth off of you.
It’s fine, it’s fine,” she ushers against your swollen lips, “I just want to make you feel better.”
You whine in disapproval but your arms wrap tighter around her.
“You love me, don’t you?” She whispers against your cheek, but doesn’t let you reply, as you choke on her tongue, stroking deep against yours.
“Say you love me, baby.” She moves to kiss your forehead, before moving down against your collarbone.
Hands groping your ass as she rocks you steady against her thigh.
“I love you,” a few tears burn down your throat as you hiccup,” I love you, I love you.”
Wanda mumbles her gratitude into your skin, fresh marks blooming against your chest as she fucks you against her.
“Keep saying you love me, baby.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you…” flies from your mouth in quick succession, your mind once again empty as the tell tale signs of another orgasm come into view.
“I love you too, princess.” She returns to your lips, tongue prodding past them as she coaxes your tongue into her mouth.
“Come on. Be good for me.”
It slams into you, body tense as you fall over the edge, pressing your face deep into her neck. She shushes you, not letting go of your body until the convulsions stop, and even then, you’re curled into her chest. Unwilling to part from her.
She allows you to sob freely, your body shaking uncontrollably as hands stroke all over until you calm down. Almost asleep in her arms.
A hand runs through your damp hair, “That’s it, baby. We’re done.”
“No more.” You mumble out, eyes already shut as exhaustion washes over.
“No more, baby. Go to sleep.” Wanda shifts you down her body, your face now against her chest, as she covers you both with her duvet.
Unable to resist any longer, you drift off in Wanda’s warm embrace.
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harstyle · 3 months
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the styles’ nanny
Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 7.3k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet
A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!
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Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.
And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.
It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.
But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.
“Y/N, did you hear me?”
“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”
She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.
“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”
Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.
“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”
Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.
Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”
“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”
He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”
“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”
“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”
Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.
“Okay, thank you.”
“No problem, love.”
“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”
“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”
Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.
But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”
“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”
Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”
“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”
“Please, I just want ice cream.”
It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.
“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”
He merely shook his head.
Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.
“What’s wrong, bub?”
Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore
Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.
Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.
Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.
Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.
“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”
She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”
Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.
“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.
“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”
“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”
“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”
He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”
“Oh, are you sure?”
Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.
“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”
In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.
Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.
“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”
“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”
“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”
“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”
He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”
And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.
Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”
She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.
She could probably indulge a little then, right?
“Yeah, I do.”
He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—
“Wait, no, I can do it.”
He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.
“You can now?”
“Yes.”
He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.
What the fuck was that?
Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.
It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.
So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.
And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.
A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.
It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.
“Daddy?”
Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.
Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”
He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.
“Y/N, you’re still here.”
She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”
He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.
“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”
Her stomach did another flip.
Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!
Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.
“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”
He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”
Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”
“Missed you, daddy.”
She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.
Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”
In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”
Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”
“Will you be here too, Y/N?”
Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.
But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”
To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”
Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”
“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”
“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”
It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.
After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”
Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”
“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”
She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”
She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.
“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”
She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”
He hummed in agreement.
She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.
“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
“Kay. Can I have a hug?”
“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”
“Night.”
Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.
“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”
“It’s my job to be good to him.”
“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”
“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”
The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.
So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.
She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”
His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”
“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”
It was a lie, of course it was.
“Fine.”
As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.
Shit.
Y/N was crying.
She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?
And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.
Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.
She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.
There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.
But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.
“Y/N?”
She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
What had she done?
“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”
“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“
“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”
“The viper.”
“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”
“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”
She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.
When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.
“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”
He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.
“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.
He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.
After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”
And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.
“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.
“Harry, I’m sor—“
“Drink the water.”
She almost flinched at his angry tone.
Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”
All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.
“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”
Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.
In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”
She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?
“What?”
“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”
The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.
He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.
Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”
Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it
“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”
He truly did have a point there, she supposed.
But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”
“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”
“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.
“What do you mean?”
He couldn’t be so daft, could he?
“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”
That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.
She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”
“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”
He was probably right about that.
“Okay.”
As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.
He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.
“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”
“Um, if you have something?”
She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.
He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”
Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”
Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.
When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”
Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.
Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.
“You’re really nice t’me.”
“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”
“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.
What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.
He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.
It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.
He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.
There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.
It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.
He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.
He would lie awake until sunrise.
Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.
God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.
After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.
“God, Y/N, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”
“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.
He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.
Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.
He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.
“I— are you okay?”
It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”
“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“
His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”
Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.
But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.
“So why bring it up?”
“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?
“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”
And that… well, was partly right.
“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”
Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.
“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“
“I know that—“
“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”
Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.
There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.
“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”
“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”
Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”
He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”
“You act like I don’t know that!”
“Evidently you don’t.”
“Yes I d—“
“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”
It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.
Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.
Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.
“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”
She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.
She’d fucked up so badly.
And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.
-
part two!
And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Mistakes
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Jungkook knew from the first look at your eyes, that you'd be the biggest mistake he'll ever make.
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Smut, car sex, protected sex, no strings attached, big dick!Jungkook, implied size kink, very mild Dom!Kook undertones, oral (m. receiving), sugar daddy!Jungkook vibes but only in a joking manner
Length: 7k words (oops)
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Jeon Jungkook doesn't really attend parties- typically.
But this time, for this occasion, he can't really pull himself out- he's got to at least show up for a moment, be there and present, before he can call it a night and go home. It's not like he hates his coworkers or employees most of all- he's just not that good at socializing, and never really was.
He's learned to be alone, and now he's too good at it.
A lot of the people in the hall, he doesn't know. That's probably because he's allowed people to bring a plus-one, so most of the people here are couples, which makes the whole situation just so much worse. "You could at least try and appear like you're having fun, you know?" Taehyung laughs, standing closer to his coworker now, a drink in hand. "It's not that bad." He tries to lighten the mood, but Jungkook just rolls his eyes.
"It's not even been an hour and I already want to go." He sighs.
"Why not leave then?" Tae wonders, sipping his non-alcoholic drink, since he's gonna have to drive home later, his wife currently conversing with other coworkers. "Oh, right, because Namjoon-"
"God don't remind me." Jungkook mumbles, shaking his head as he sips his whiskey. "I can't believe I lost that bet." He growls to himself, watching how someone seems to struggle with choosing the right food at the buffet, plate still empty even after several minutes. You look young, or maybe you're just short- he's not sure, but what he is sure about is that you do not work for him or his company- at least not in the same building. He would've noticed you, just like he does right now.
"I think she's Yoongi's plus-one? Or at least he drove here with her together.." Taehyung mumbles, having spotted his friend watching you.
"She looks young." Jungkook mumbles. "And I thought Yoongi was seeing the secretary we hired a few months ago?" He wonders, finally letting his eyes leave you alone, form-fitting dress very complimenting to your body, not too revealing, but still somewhat teasing.
Taunting him, almost.
"Oh, he does! Namjoon caught them making out in Yoongi's office last week." Taehyung laughs. "She's probably just a friend." He shrugs.
A friend, huh?
"Maybe something for you though?" Taehyung jokes. "I mean, I think I saw her drinking earlier, so she's at least of legal age." He laughs, making Jungkook cringe at him. He doesn't really find this whole joke funny- not at all, but Taehyung is right when it comes to Jungkook having a.. severe lack of company these past few years. Only occasionally does he have some sex without any strings attached- never brings anybody home however, refuses to cling to someone.
He's divorced anyways. Most women don't really find that very appealing.
Maybe he can have some simple company this time as well, nothing serious at all- it's been a while, after all, and everyone's an adult here, no matter the age difference. As long as he communicates it properly, there's no reason not to at least converse with you.
So he does indeed approach you, finding you still at the buffet, barely anything on your plate at all.
"Too much to choose from?" He wonders next to you, and he realizes the huge mistake he's made when approaching you the second you lift your head to look at him.
The lights reflect in your eyes like mirrors, minimal makeup perfectly enhancing your features, lips shiny with the most sinful shade of lipgloss this world probably has to offer. He's a goner, right away, lost in the sight of you, as if he's been thrown into the deep end of a pool so cold that it freezes his muscles, making him sink down to the bottom like a stone.
"Oh, no.." You answer, looking back at all the foods. "I have a shellfish allergy, so I'm not sure what I can eat.." You mumble, one hand having reached up to play with the sparkling pink gemstone hanging around your neck.
His mouth feels dry for a second, before he catches himself.
"Here." He mentions, pointing at some small numbers near the names of the foods on the small cards. "Those small numbers, the three right there is for shellfish." He offers, pointing towards a different card close by where the numbers are explained.
"Oh! Thank you so much, I hate contact lenses!" You laugh to yourself. "I usually wear glasses, but I wanted to look pretty.." You giggle, putting some food onto your plate now.
"I'm sure nothing can ruin a face like that." He flirts without truly thinking about it- making you visibly blush, trying to contain a smile.
"I appreciate the compliment…?" You wonder, and Jungkook knows, he's probably about to make another, grave mistake.
"Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook." He introduces himself, and you tell him your name in return, smiling oh-so devastatingly beautiful.
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His plan was absolutely not to explore what might be beneath that pretty dress of yours- and it seems like that might stay that way despite his length inside you.
You're moving your hips in ways that makes him dizzy, mind clouded with lust as you bounce up and down, hands on your back the only thing helping you avoid accidentally hitting the steering wheel. He's pushed the seat back as far as it goes, but you can never be too sure- he wouldn't want you to honk and draw attention to the surely shaking vehicle in the darkened parking lot.
The condom had been pure luck- he's not a fan of pulling out, so if it hadn't been there in the glove box of his car, he probably would've had to awkwardly call it quits before anything really happened at all. It's not like you both instantly were at each other's throats the moment you left the gathering- he simply offered to drive you home instead of Yoongi, who'd wanted to stay a little longer, while you complained about feeling tired. And in his car, you'd talked- casually so, something clicking, as he's now got you on his lap, bouncing on his dick like he's not experienced in quite some time now.
He feels a bit bad. Despite making sure that you know this is nothing but a casual fuck, it still feels a little odd to him. He doesn't like things like these- it feels like he's using you, and he's not a fan of such situations.
Though he can't deny that you feel absolutely divine.
The rain is heavy outside, pushing against the car's windows from all sides, drowning out the otherwise rather obscene sounds coming from between your bodies. Your hands are on his shoulders, fingers gripping his muscles beneath the fabric of his formal button-up. He refuses to kiss you, can't find it in him to do it, and you accept it, instead treating it as detached as you can, simply chasing your high as you fuck yourself on his twitching length.
He feels good. Thick, able to reach far inside you, but not enough to hurt.
The way he holds you is nice too- not too strong of a grip, only enough to guide you, keep you moving, keep you going. He's not big on dirty talk, isn't over the top with anything, and it almost feels like he's treating you like a woman, and not some chick he's met at a party. There's a certain sense of respect he's offering you that gives you confidence, makes you feel powerful for once even though he's clearly setting the pace.
This is something you don't usually get to have. Someone taking you seriously.
"You close?" He asks out of breath, avoiding your eyes, rather looking at your lips, though never moving into action. A limit he's set, and a limit he follows, he's clearly a man that doesn't wildly change his mind on the fly. Though, considering who he is, and where he is in life, he probably has had enough time to be untamed and wild already. You faintly wonder if he's ever been in a long-term relationship. Yoongi hasn't really talked about him much.
Neither have you asked. You've seen him, once or twice- but a man like that is out of range for you.
You nod when he grips your behind, reminding you quietly of his question, hips stuttering as he takes over, helping you move to chase his own orgasm right after yours. You're a bit overly sensitive, but you push through it just to see him clench his jaw, eyes closing as he groans out in relief, cum spurting into the condom inside you.
It's suddenly over, and not even your evening breaths can mask the slight awkwardness that's filling the car.
One of his hands keeps you close, though you have to lean against him a bit as to not move your hips too much as he reaches for something from the glovebox, plastic wrap of the small pack of tissues making a distinctive sound. "You okay?" He asks you, and you nod, now having switched places apparently as you avoid his face entirely.
You rather move a bit weirdly to accept the tissue offered, lifting your hips to awkwardly wipe yourself down, before pulling up your underwear and climbing back into the passenger seat, where you clean the inside of your thighs while he discards the condom from his length with a slight hiss of sensitivity.
You never really know what to say. You don't actually do this often- this is only the second time you've ever hooked up with anyone like this, and it's just as weird as the first time.
"Thank you, by the way." He offers, taking the challenge away from you as he puts the tied up condom in the tissue to discard it at home later. "Let me drive a bit closer to the building, just so you don't get too wet." He says, pulling his seat back into proper position before he starts the car.
Such a gentleman- You're a little disappointed. But only mildly so. Will you even stay in his mind?
Probably not.
You're way too young for a man like him, who most likely wants a proper woman in his life instead of a.. instead of you. You're not even sure where you are at in life- neither a woman nor a girl, somewhere in between, floating, unsure, neither and both. You know however for a fact that you'll remember him- probably for quite a while, before the memory will fade into nothing but a glimpse.
"There we go." Jungkook says, stopping the car very much in front of your apartment building, sideways so that you can run right into the main hall. "Please remember to text Yoongi, okay?" He reminds you. "He might be worried otherwise." He smiles kindly, and you nod, a bit forced, grabbing your light coat and your handbag. "And.. I enjoyed it. Very much so." He makes sure to tell you, making you nod a bit shy.
"I.. uhm, I'm glad." You nod, awkwardly, causing him to chuckle.
"Now go hurry inside before the rain starts again." He urges, making you nod dumbly once more before you open the car door, running inside the apartment building after closing the door.
And he drives off, back home, where nothing waits for him but the humming fridge and a cold, empty bed.
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Daehyun can be a little spoiled, but other than that, he's a well behaved kid for his age.
He loves staying at your place, though his questions on when you'll be getting another dog after your first passed away a year ago are sometimes a bit stinging to your heart. He's a child, obviously- he doesn't understand the hurt that can settle in your soul after losing such an important piece of your life, so you can't blame him for moving on a lot quicker than you.
He's too young to understand that yet.
"Uncle Yoongi has a cat now!" Daehyun tells you as he builds the lego set with you, his small hands having some difficulty here and there, but he's a quick learner, and a good improviser. "But he said I can't play with her, because she's a girl-cat, and girl-cats don't like playing." He explains, pouting a bit as he uses all his strength to pull two pieces apart again.
"Well, I think she's just be a little nervous still." You reassure the boy. "You know, she just moved into a new home. Things might be a little scary to her." You explain, and Daehyun nods.
"I only pet her a bit." Daehyun tells you. "Appa said we're gonna get a dog soon though!" He says with excitement, making you smile.
"That's nice." You agree, helping him pull some bricks apart. You like having the little boy over at your place- it makes you feel both like a grown person, and also like a child at the same time. Daehyun doesn't judge your vast collections of stuffed animals and lego sets- he only sees you as the nice aunt, a big sister, a friend of his dad where he stays over at often whenever work gets in the way and takes away most of Taehyung's attention. Just like this weekend- Taehyung having needed someone to look after the boy, Dae's mother constantly equally without any time. You're not sure how long that marriage is gonna last with her refusing to step back at least a little to properly take care of her own child, and with Taehyung's growing frustration over the situation.
You hope the poor boy won't get caught up in the crossfire. That would just be awful.
Hours later, all the toys put away, your doorbell rings, giving you the clue that someone must be now here to pick the young boy up. Probably either Jimin or Yoongi- but when you open the door, it's neither of them, but a casually dressed Jungkook, hands in his slacks as your gaze gets caught on the slightly unbuttered shirt that's tucked into the pants, LY-labeled belt buckle accentuating his rather slim waist.
What the fuck.
"Oh- uh, come inside." You offer, stepping aside to let him in, Daehyun quickly running up to Jungkook, who mirrors the excitement of the young boy as he squats down to hug him. You let them both have their moment, instead walking around to collect all of Dae's things, checking twice to make sure he didn't forget anything, as you text Taehyung to make sure the man is really supposed to take the boy with him.
He is, which makes you a bit upset. Taehyung could've told you before.
When you walk back inside the living room area, Dae is currently busy showing Jungkook a stuffed animal- a gift from Jimin a year ago, modeled after your dog as a keepsake. "He was suuuper big, and really nice!" Dae beams up at the man. "He always ate ice cubes, but-" the small boy inspects the stuffed animal a little, lips pouting. "-Noona said he was really old, so he went to sleep." He offers, and Jungkook seems to realize what the stuffed toy might actually be.
"Let's put him back on the table then, yeah?" He offers, a hand with faint ink taking the toy from the smaller hands of the boy to place it back next to the picture frame of your dog and the collar on the tiny table near the door where he used to sleep. "So he can sleep well." He explains, making Dae nod. When you make your presence finally known, Jungkook removes the hand, heavy watch on his wrist faintly hitting the edge of the table for a second, as he watches how you help the small boy into his jacket.
You're a little confusing.
"Alright." You say after successfully getting Daehyun to put on his shoes. "Theres- uhm, there's a, wait, I'll show you.." You say, moving to pull a little folder out of one of the bags packed. "This one, please make sure Taehyung sees this. It's Daehyun's homework, and he really needs to do them this time." You emphasize. "Just make sure he actually looks inside at least once.." You sigh, putting the bright red folder back into the bag.
"I'll make sure." Jungkook accepts, taking the bag from you. "Anything else?" he wonders, and you refuse any eye contact, instead shaking your head to hug Daehyun goodbye as you bring him and Jungkook to your front door.
"Noona, you gotta hug Jungkookie too!" Dae says, surprising you with his lack of formality when addressing his father's friend- but you don't question it.
And admittedly, Jungkook is fairly surprised when you do in fact reach out to hug him goodbye, though very formal. It's still.. oddly nice, you don't seem to wear perfume but rather rely on your scented bodywash, which smells very good to him. This is weird. Why is he getting such feelings of comfort for a simple hug with nothing attached to it?
And why is he kind of disappointed when it ends far too quickly?
But it gets worse in the car, because Daehyun has clearly gotten the wrong message entirely. "Noona doesn't have a boyfriend." He says from the backseat where Jungkook has placed the booster seat he's gotten from Taehyung in cases like these where he has to pick up the young boy. "And appa said you don't have a girlfriend." He says, making Jungkook nod and hum a reply. "Noona is really pretty." He giggles. Jungkook cant help but chuckle along.
"She is." He agrees, because he won't lie about that. You are very pretty in his opinion, though he can only really judge you mostly by looks alone. "Did you have fun? I heard you were there the whole weekend." He tries to steer the conversation away, but the young boy clearly doesn't get the message.
"Noona can cook really well!" He praises. "She always makes me my favorite, and then we watch tv in our 'jamas." He says, and Jungkook has to imagine you both probably bundled up in blankets on the small couch you have, watching kid's shows until the poor boy falls asleep.
Domestic. Do you like children? Want your own in the future, maybe?
"Jungkookie?" Dae asks, and Jungkook hums a reply, telling the kid he's listening. "Do you like Noona?" He wonders.
"I don't know her that much, dae. But she seems nice." He offers instead, trying to evade the interrogation of the small boy.
"Do you like drinking?" Dae wonders. "Like, the stuff appa says I can't have?" He asks, and Jungkook grows a bit weary. Why exactly would the young boy ask something like that?
"Sometimes. Why do you ask?" He asks the boy, who seems to deflate now.
"Then you can't be friends with Noona." He complains.
"Why not?" Jungkook wonders.
"Because, the guy noona liked for a while always got mean when he was drinking that stuff." Dae complains, looking out the window. "I was never allowed to play at noona's house when he was there. He really liked that stuff that smells bad, but it made noona upset." He says.
Jungkook tenses up a bit. "Was he ever-, how was he mean to you?" Jungkook wonders.
"He always told noona to do things for him, and never let her play with me." He huffs. "And Yogi didn't like him too, because he always had to stay in his bed." He complains. Jungkook assumes the boy is probably talking about the dog.
Jungkook doesn't know how to ask what he wants to ask. It doesn't concern him at all- after all, it seems like you're no longer together with that guy, so he shouldn't pry. But something makes him worry- deep down, he's awfully wary, since he now realizes you did indeed not even touch any alcohol at the party at all- the drink Taehyung had seen you hold non-alcoholic. How bad must the relationship have been? You might not have a fear of men, but you're clearly affected by the past, it seems like.
"Did.." no. He shouldn't be asking that. It's none of his business.
"Do you get mean too when you drink?" Dae wants to know. "Appa only gets really sleepy." He giggles. Jungkook laughs along. Taehyung truly does only get horribly tired whenever he drinks- and he knows for a fact that he never gets drunk when he has to take care of the boy alone, so he's not at all alarmed by those words.
"No, I don't get mean." Jungkook answers. "I don't really drink a lot of it, so it only makes me feel a bit silly." He offers as an explanation, and Dae nods.
"Then, maybe Noona won't mind." He says, causing Jungkook to chuckle, shaking his head.
"Why do you want Noona to like me so much?" He wonders, and at that, Taehyung's son becomes excited.
"Because, then my favorite people like each other!" He exclaims. "And that's really cool. Then we can have sleepovers together, and you can help me get a new dog for noona!" He says. "She's really sad that Yogi sleeps now. I think she's lonely." He whines.
"We can have sleepovers anyways, dae." He laughs.
"But, appa told eomma, that you need someone you like." He huffs. Jungkook reminds himself to scold his friend at a later date. "Because you're not happy now, and you're lonely. And noona's lonely too." He offers.
Luckily, Jungkook escapes any further questioning as he finally reaches Taehyung's apartment, ready to drop the young boy off.
The whole conversation not leaving him at all the entire rest of the day, as he realizes he forgot to show Taehyung the folder.
Crap. This is your fault.
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It's been weeks- and apart from rubbing one out to the remaining memories of you in his car, he's not really thought much about you at all.
He's seen you on occasion here and there at the grocery store or a coffee shop, which made him realize that you've always been right under his nose but he just never knew who you were, but you two don't really have had any actual conversations anymore.
There's no reason for it.
He now knows that you're actually the part-time nanny Taehyung used to have a few years back, when you apparently had just been fighting to find a new job to keep your apartment and not get kicked out for not being able to pay rent. Back then, Taehyung and his wife had been living separated for a bit after a pretty bad fight- so the father had needed someone to take some weight off his shoulders, and help with the small child who couldn't even talk yet. You helped raise Daehyun basically, more or less- and, according to Taehyung, it shows.
The young boy has a strong sense of justice, and shares everything he has happily- something that he's learned from you. It makes some odd things make sense now to Jungkook as well- how Dae has some habits that seem very unique, but also too specific to have been developing all on their own. The child holds the front of his shirt a lot- something Jungkook noticed you do in a similar way as well, whenever you think of something.
Today, it's Daehyun's birthday. And Jungkook is sure, that the young boy probably demanded that both jungkook and you had to be there.
And he's right.
The minute he enters Taehyung's penthouse, he spots you sitting on the floor with the child, who's currently trying to read his own birthday card to you, before he spots him in the doorway. You look pretty, yet again. No makeup it seems like, and he can't say that you need it. You obviously don't, eyes still sparkling dangerously, smile still as lethal as ever as you wave a little bit before getting up.
You're dressed comfortably. He likes the sight of it- the casual dress you wear not too short to be scandalous, but short enough to tease him with the skin of your legs, hidden beneath a sheer pantyhose. Or?
No. There's an upper hem of lace- those are just stockings.
"Jungkookie, appa said you'll drive noona home today?" Dae says, now held up on Jungkook's hip, as he looks at Taehyung who laughs.
"Dae, I said I'm gonna ask him if he can drive her home!" He scolds gently. "Hey- sorry, he just runs with whatever he hears." The father tells him, and Jungkook just smiles, shaking his head.
"I can drive her home, no worries." He simply affirms. "It's no problem."
"Taehyung I told you I can go home by myself!" You whine, and Jungkook is intrigued by this seemingly new side of you. He knows you as a little shy, soft spoken, polite. You always greet him when you see him, and you've talked a little bit in his car weeks back- but then again, you only know each other on a very surface level.
He wonders what you're really like.
"And I said you're not driving alone when you're sick." Taehyung threatens, dad-voice coming through as he attempts to push through your clearly stubborn behavior, and Jungkook can't help but watch intently as your eyes roll around, attitude clear as you don't take your friend seriously at all.
"Noona is gonna be a mommy!" Daehyun blurts out to Jungkook, and for a split second, his entire body freezes, blood cooling down to the negatives, bones filling with fear.
He wore a condom- but what if something happened? What if it leaked? Was that even possible? He's not against becoming a father, absolutely not- but he'd like to have a proper relationship for that, a stable one, not something like this.
"Daehyun!" You scold with red cheeks, and Taehyung runs a hand over his face. "Appa just asked me if I was, I'm not!" You whine embarrassed, sighing. "Oh god, guys, please! I'm an adult woman, I'm not sick, I can go home by myself." You complain, walking into the kitchen, presumably to escape the pressuring situation.
"She threw up earlier, that's why I asked her. Dae must've heard me." Taehyung says, after averting his son's attention back to the TV in the living room, where his favorite show plays. "She refuses to see a doctor for it. But you look like you've seen a ghost-" Taehyung teases, before his eyes sharpen. "…could it be that the mention of her becoming a mommy made you worry?" He pokes, and Jungkook furrows his brows, averts eye contact. "Holy shit, you two!?" He hisses, and Jungkook groans.
"Shut up, it was nothing." He simply says, while Taehyung's eyes widen in a scandalized manner.
"Nothing?! Jungkook, where is that nothing?" He argues, surprisingly sternly. "I'll drive her home."
"You're acting like I forced myself onto her-" Jungkook sighs, but Taehyung shakes his head. "Taehyung, you heard her. She's an adult woman, she can decide things herself." Jungkook defends you. "I'll drive her home, and I'll text you once she's dropped off." He says, before he walks into the kitchen where you're filling up a glass with water.
"Oh god that was embarrassing." You whine into your hands, before you shake your head. "He acts as if I'm dying any second whenever something's up." You mumble, drinking from your glass. He can see you're a bit less energetic- hand a bit shaky as you drink.
"He worries." Jungkook offers, leaning against the counter next to the fridge, across from you. "And you should go see a doctor if you don't feel well." He scolds, and yet again, you roll your eyes.
"And you should try and work on your facial expressions, mister." You huff. "I could see the panic a mile away when Dae said I'm pregnant." You bite, making him tilt his head a little "Either way, I'm fine. I can't afford to call in sick right now or my landlord will kick me out the minute my rent is late again." You laugh a little bitterly, finishing your water before you rinse the glass in the sink.
"Do you not get paid a regular salary each month?" He wonders. You shake your head.
"I do, but it's the monthly bonus that keeps me afloat." You explain. "And I only get that one if I'm not sick and bring appropriate numbers to the table." You sigh. "My landlord just searches for a reason to kick me out, I'm sure." You mumble as you dry your hands.
"How come?" Jungkook asks.
"I didn't want to go out with the guy." You shrug, not looking at him. "I like older men, but sixty? No thanks.." You huff, turning around to look at a smug looking Jungkook, his arms crossed.
"Would've never guessed." He tells you in a cocky manner, and you cross your arms to mirror his position in an exagerated manner.
"I would've probably let you screw me if you were younger too." You respond.
"Oh?" He raises his brows. This is oddly fun. "Were you that needy?" He teases, and suddenly, your eyes soften quite a bit, scaring him.
"No." You shake your head. "Guess you were just that charming." You shrug.
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"If your job pays that awful, why not change it?" Jungkook wonders as he maneuvers out the parking lot, leaving Taehyung's home behind after Daehyun had gone to bed.
You shrug.
"I'm lucky I got accepted in this one." You say. You're tired- it's obvious to him. "I dropped out of school too early. Now I'm facing the consequences- and honestly, it's not that bad either. I get by, and it's a quiet life I'm living, which is nice." You offer.
"Do you not have any ambitions?" He asks, relaxed now that he knows you're not one to be overly sensitive when it comes to more personal topics like that. You don't try to read between the lines where there's most of the time nothing at all to find.
"Its not like I don't have any ambitions." You respond, neither denying nor confirming. "It's more that I realized some of those ambitions were.. unrealistic. So I instead pursued what was." You shrug. "Nothing too deep. It's.. part of growing up, I guess." You explain.
Growing up. Talking to you, right now, truly does remind him of that. Almost two hands between you both in years, but you're awfully matured in the way you think at its core. You just have a softer shell around it, your opinions can still move, your mind still has some sort of wiggle room.
His doesn't. He makes decisions and sticks by them, most of the time. He doesn't like change, he enjoys his routine, keeps everything in order most of the time- until now.
Because you're definitely a decision he keeps bending around.
"How much is your rent?" Jungkook asks, and you look at him from where you're leaning against the car's window, an amused expression on your face.
"Why? You wanna be my sugar-daddy?" You joke, and he shrugs, much to your surprise.
"I don't care what you call it." He simply says. "But if it get's you to take some time and take care of your health, I can take care of a month's rent." He offers.
"I don't like that." You respond.
"I know." He laughs. "I've come to learn that you don't like accepting help. But it's something you can't avoid at times." He explains to you. "I'm just offering help. Whether or not you take it, is up to you." He shrugs.
"Why would you do that?" You wonder, suspicious.
"Because Taehyung worries about you. And Daehyun would be terribly upset if something was to happen to you." He admits. "I don't know you well enough to say that I'm doing this for you- so I'll be honest. I do this mostly for them." He says.
You nod. You like this- that he's actually telling the truth, instead of trying to woo you into something.
"Alright." You sigh, tired. "I'll.. text you?" You wonder, and he nods.
"I have your number from Taehyung already." He chuckles. "I just didn't have a reason to reach out yet." He admits.
You just nod, eyes falling shut for longer he notices.
You must be working hard if you're this exhausted. He really hopes you'll take care of yourself after he helps you sort everything out.
Hopefully his help is enough.
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
He's lost control over the situation. How can this happen a second time?
He's been texting you these past few days, especially after you've finally took some time off of work to sort out your doctor's visits, having received some medication to finally help you resolve your issues.
He's not sure why he keeps coming back to you. And he's especially not sure how the hell he managed to get himself caught up in a situation like this twice, especially after Taehyung had been clearly upset about the first time.
There's something about you he can't really pin-point. It's both scary, and exciting.
You're kneeling on a small heart-shaped pillow from your small couch, hands occupied and slicked up with your own spit as you caress his length, head of it warm inside your mouth as you lick and suck. You've offered, and he assumed it to be a joke- but the moment you got down between his legs, all of his usual control over things went out the window. He might appear to be the one in charge, right in this moment, but he's truly at your mercy.
It makes him anxious. This shouldn't be happening.
But he can't deny the appeal of you taking care of him so well- it feels scarily intimate to have you between his legs like this, eyes closed as you seem to enjoy yourself, mostly due to his own hand reaching out to run his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face and taking the chance to offer some form of affection before he collects your hair in his fist for a second, long sigh escaping him as he feels the tip of your tongue push against the head of his cock, dipping into the small point, before you adjust your legs, letting go of him for just a second to lick from the base to the very tip once more.
You're a succubus, hidden behind a pretty face and sinful body.
He's not sure what your motivation is, hasn't really figured it out for the first time either. There's this little devil on his shoulder constantly urging him to accept your advances and let himself go, but the angel is louder, and keeps on feeding him doubts about the whole thing. He's consumed by his work, he doesn't have time for you, he can't offer you what you might want from a relationship. He doesn't even know if he himself is ready for something like that- he knows he should be, considering how long ago his divorce had been finished, but it's still odd to think about it. He's scarred by what went down, and doesn't want to go through this again.
He can handle being hated by one person he used to love. He wouldn't be able to have two doing the same.
It made him wonder if he's even someone worthy of having a relationship. Does he have enough to offer you that's not physical or monetary? No. He doesn't have time, he's awkward as hell, he doesn't like parties and rather enjoys laid back vacations somewhere no one knows him- if he even takes one at all. He wants a quiet life-
A quiet life?
'it's a quiet life I'm living, which is nice.'
Maybe it's your hands on his cock, the back of your tongue over his tip, or the way your fingers suddenly move to massage his balls just right- but he's facing this horribly ironic moment of both pleasure and realization at the same time as his cum shoots into your mouth, lips sealed over the head to suck him for all he's got. His hand keeps pushing your head, fingers digging into your hair, and you moan quietly at the faint sting of it.
His head rests back on your couch. His hand loosens, letting you go, while his eyes stay closed, breath deep and uneven as he tries to calm himself. He doesn't even realize how you tuck him back into his underwear as he softens, though you leave the fly and belt untouched, instead moving to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
You wait. For what? You're not sure.
"I.." He starts, taking in a deep breath, a hand through his hair trying to sort him out again. "..you.."
"Was it good?" You wonder almost innocently, watching him amused.
He nods. "Very." He simply answers, brain dumb. He hates this.
"Nice." You smile, before you move to put the little pillow back on the couch. "Do you wanna.. leave right now? Or stay for coffee?" You wonder, treating this all way more casual than he is. He's not sure what to do. But he knows you need to talk about this.
"Can you come here for a second?" He asks, and you nod, putting down the mug you got out of the pantry, making your way over to him to sit on the couch next to him. "I hope you know this isn't.. needed. I honestly just wanted to help you out with rent." He urges, and you nod.
"I know." You say, making him feel a bit lighter. "Was that.. not something you wanted?" You worry, but he shakes his head.
"I'm.. I'll have to be honest here." He sighs, having closed his pants and adjusted himself prior already, not leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees. He can't look at you- not if he wants to be honest and straight forward. "I'm not sure." He offers. "I think it's clear that there's an attraction going on- but I don't know how far this can go."
"I'm not in love with you or anything." You defend yourself. "Neither do I have a crush. I just like you." You shrug.
"That's good." He nods to himself. "It's good that you know that. That you... can distinguish it."
"I think your problem might have something to do with.. my age?" You wonder, and Jungkook turns his head towards you, eyes staying on your knees however. "Yoongi mentioned something once. That he has a friend who has some sort of mid-life crisis right now and thinks he's too old for everything." You giggle.
"And how do you know that would be me?" He calls you out a little offended.
"Because it just fits." You laugh. "You play around with Dae all the time, but the second someone watches you, you become all awkward. It's kinda sad." You admit.
"How so?" He wants to know.
"Because it's dumb." You say, leaning back against your couch.
"Maybe for you. But when you're my age-" He starts, and you suddenly start to laugh, cutting him off.
"See! That's how I know you're the one with the crisis!" You joke, hand hitting his shoulder playfully, and without any intention to hurt. "I'm not a kid. I can make my decisions just fine." You say.
"And your decision is?" He wonders, now looking at you.
"That I want to get to know you." You tell him. "I want to.. see where it goes." You offer.
"What if it goes nowhere?" He argues. "I can't promise you some fairytale love-story." He denies. "I'm divorced, I want children at some point, I don't like parties, I work long hours-"
"But that's stuff that we can work out, no?" You wonder. "Time is what you're scared of, right? Then how about this-" You say, suddenly sitting on your knees, body facing his. "Every day you're not trying is a day you could be spending in a more productive way. For example, by getting to know me. Trying out if your idea of a relationship aligns with mine, if your work schedule is too packed, all of that." You offer. "Right now, we could already be talking about more interesting things than the 'what-if'. Or, in your big-man-terms:" You joke, leaning closer to him. "You're wasting time."
"Have you ever considered a career in communication-training?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "You're awfully great at this." He praises, making you giggle.
"Nah, I like my normal nine-to-five." You say. "Even if it barely pays enough."
"Well I heard someone's taking care of rent at the moment." he offers, reaching out to tuck some hair behind your ear.
"Well, only for a month, so that's a bummer." You shrug, leaning into his hand now holding your cheek.
"..I'm not used to being in a relationship." He sighs.
"We can start just being friends." You respond.
"I think we're a little past the general boundaries of friendship." He chuckles.
"Then friends who occasionally have sex." You roll your eyes.
"That's not very romantic." He argues.
"You can fuck me with music in the background?" You joke, and he shakes his head, laughing.
You're truly far more than he thought you are, and he's not sure if he's worth your time. But he wants to be. Looking at you, right now, he wants to be worth it. He wants to put the effort into it, even if it doesn't work out in the end. He wants to try- so that even if you don't fit, you at least had some good memories together that were worth the time spent.
He wants to try.
Even if it's a mistake.
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Note
hey i love your work so much!! i was wondering if you could do something where hotch gets lingerie for the reader. and the reader is like mmm no maybe not.. but hotch is like please just try it on to see if you like it?
reader is like ok, so they put it on and they are stilly kinda hesitant but when hotch sees them he is like star struck and… ya know shows them how pretty they are!! and he just praises the reader, maybe they do it in front of a mirror 🫣🫣
i think it would be cute, but you don’t have to write it if you don’t want, sorry if this is all over the place it was just a stream of consciousness!!
༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
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— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader
— summary: to aaron, buying you lingerie was an act of love, to you, it was something new.
— warnings: lingerie wearing (obviously), slight body insecurity, illusions to mirrors being used for future... unsavory acts, kissing, heavy petting, praise, heavy kissing.
— wc: 745
⋆ a/n: hello hun!! i'm so glad you like my work and sorry that this isn't as detailed as you probably would have liked. funny enough i couldn't find space to fit actual smut in there, but never fear! it is still as equally spicy and fun!
masterlist | AO3
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“What the fuck is that?”
Aaron held up a piece of lingerie that looked more like pieces of string and lace were sewn together than any actual cloth.
“Lingerie, honey.” He said with a deep chuckle. “And you want me to wear… that?” You questioned in disbelief. “That would be ideal, yes.”
There was a wince on your face as you continued to stare at the dark red thing. “Yeah… no. Absolutely not.” You crossed your arms. “Sweetheart, you don't even know if you won't like it.”
“No, I know I don't like it. How about you just see me naked?”
“As tempting as that sounds, I would like it very much if you were to try it on.”
Your eyes flickered from his to the bundle of lace.
Now, it wouldn't be fair to say no, because Aaron has indulged in many of your fantasies over the years, and he barely asks for anything, as well as always focuses on your pleasure. If you said no he'd drop the conversation entirely, he was never one to pressure.
You could see it in the burning of his irises that he wanted to see you in the lingerie, and he would never steer you wrong and pick something ugly. Oh God, just thinking about him going into a place like Victoria's Secret made your cheeks heat up.
With one final glance you sighed, sticking out your hand. “Fine, but I'm doing this just because I love you and… because I want to.”
He walked up and handed you it, pulling you into his side to give you a kiss on your head. “Thank you.” You just hummed before disappearing into the bathroom.
Oh you looked like a fucking clown.
You knew this would be no good. This was not flattering at all, at least in your eyes. You cringed, tugging at the straps that dug into your arms uncomfortably. You had never felt so… unsure sexually before.
“Aaron, I look ridiculous.”
“I'm sure you look great.”
“Did this thing not come with a robe?” You couldn't help but ask, because the outfit felt like it was missing something.
“It did.”
“And where might it be?”
“With me.”
“You're such a bastard.” You mumbled to yourself.
You took a deep breath to ease your nerves.
“Alright, I'm coming out, but if you laugh at me, I'm going to kill you.”
“In what world would I laugh at you?” He was right, you were being nervous and irrational and — God, you've never done this before. Was it hot in here? Were you sweating?
Stepping out of the bathroom was one thing, but Aaron staring at you speechless was a whole other can of worms.
You shifted anxiously in your spot as he approached you, his large hand cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb rubbed the hot skin of it softly.
“You look breathtaking.” His voice was strained. The other hand that wasn't cradling your face landed on your naked hip. He squeezed the fat of it, a light shiver shooting up his back at the feeling of the fat spilling through his fingers.
Your body thrums with excitement, your last hesitation slowly melting off of you.
“You think so?” You ask shyly. “I know so.” Aaron confirms with that warm, comforting voice of his. He connects your lips together and a light, surprised gasp exits your mouth. Your hands shoot-out to hold his strong biceps.
His lips molded themselves firmly onto yours, tongue exploring your mouth with desperate fervor. It was like he was trying to consume you, and a new type of fire burned in his veins. It was a rabid kind of need that threatened every part of him that was a gentleman.
You pushed away from him to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your eyes fall on the mirror hanging on the well next to where you guys are standing and you groan.
“Ugh, Aaron…” You whine in embarrassment, burying your head into his hard chest. “Don’t be ashamed of yourself, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous.” You groan in embarrassment. “Why do you have to say stuff like that?”
“Because I mean it. I love all of you.”
“You really know how to sweet talk a girl, don’t you, Hotchner?”
“As much as I like sweet talking you, I like having you in my bed more.” He locked your lips again, nosy hands massaging and gripping at the chub exposed by the two-piece.
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sluttywoozi · 11 months
Text
Ditto | mingi x reader
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Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.4k
You've liked Mingi for a while now, but every time you try to hang out one on one, it turns into a group thing. Will you be able to act normal now that you've finally gotten him alone?
Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of making out, mingi likes to bite, fingering, oral f. rec., condomless sex, mention of birth control shot and sti testing, big dick mingi
Reader Notes: has breasts and vagina, hands are smaller than mingi’s
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You sit next to Mingi on your couch, anime playing on the TV and a respectable amount of space between you, and do your best to pretend that this is normal, that everything is normal.
It’s not that you don’t like him or know him well enough to be alone with him, it’s that you both like and know him far too well. But unfortunately, all of the time you’ve ever spent with him has been in a group setting with at least one of his best friends present. You’ve been wanting to hang out one on one for months, basically since you and Mingi met, but you just couldn’t seem to make it happen.
You’d tried a few times too. The first attempt, you were grabbing drinks for the table together and you somehow worked brunch into the conversation, trying to invite him as subtly as you could. He caught on just as Jongho and Hongjoong approached the bar to help carry everything and immediately invited them along. You didn’t even have time to feel the consternation before he was beaming at you with excitement and melting your heart.
The second attempt had gone a bit better, with just Yunho tagging along to what you thought was a pasta date for two. Your small success came at the price of the sympathetic knowing look Yunho sent you when you deflated at the sight of him.
The third was the most disastrous and, dare you say, heartbreaking. You texted him to remind him that the new drama he’d been looking forward to finally dropped on Netflix and he, to your awe, responded asking if you wanted to go over to his place and binge it together.
You weren’t sure if it was a date but you looked forward to it all week nonetheless, rushing home from work to carefully select an outfit that was cute, comfortable, and easy to remove before making his favorite snack and speeding over to his apartment with the glass container steaming in your passenger seat. He’d seemed so excited to see you, grabbing your hand to pull you into his kitchen and presenting your own favorite food, plus a couple of beers, plates, and utensils.
You were well into episode two when a knock sounded on his front door. Mingi shrugged in response to the question on your face, seemingly just as clueless as you, and had barely unlocked the door before San and Wooyoung tumbled inside. Apparently, he’d mentioned your plans to them in passing and they’d taken it as an invitation.
This time was a fluke, a wild stroke of luck, a blessing from the horny and in love gods themselves. It was the reverse of what usually happened - a group hangout that became just you and Mingi after the rest of your friends had come down with something. You have a sneaking suspicion that ‘something’ is actually Yunho trying to do you a favor, and resolve to reward him with his favorite ice cream asap.
You glance over at Mingi surreptitiously, expecting his focus to be on the movie and hoping you’ll be able to fully take in his new hair, only to find his gaze centered on you. Your eyes widen and your shoulders bunch up, unused to having his unwavering attention and alarmed by the fact that you have no clue how to deal with it.
You look away for as long as you can stand before letting your gaze dart back to him. He’s still staring at you, his face contemplative and more open than you’ve ever seen. You don’t know what else to do but stare back, nervously letting your eyes meet his and trying to relax your face enough that the worry lines go away. His face splits in a grin as soon as you make eye contact, his uneven front teeth and gummy smile sending your heart aflutter and making you beam in return.
“I’m really happy we got to do this. Honestly…,” Mingi trails off with a sigh, bringing one long leg up to rest on the couch as he shifts to face you instead of the TV. His arm rises to rest on the cushions behind your neck and you fight the shiver that snakes down your spine at the decrease of space between your bodies. He smells so good, too, and the heat radiating from him makes you want to crawl into his pocket and never leave.  “I’ve wanted to hang out with just you for, like, months.”
His teeth sink into that plump bottom lip, almost distracting you too much to notice the tinge of nervousness behind his casual admission, and truthfully, you’re confused as hell. “Really?” You ask incredulously, rushing to continue when you see his face fall in hurt, “No, no, no, I’m glad you feel that way! I’m so glad, trust me. It’s just that I’ve been lowkey trying to make plans one on one since we met, and it’s never worked out. I was starting to think I should give up,” you finish with a self-deprecating shrug.
Mingi’s mouth drops open and his eyebrows raise, his disbelief clear though you can’t tell what other emotions are hiding beneath it. “Are you being fucking for real?” He almost sounds aggressive and if you hadn’t reacted the exact same way to him before, you’d probably get your feelings hurt too. As it is, you know he’s likely shocked and, if you dare to hope, happy. One side of your mouth lifts in a smile and you roll your eyes teasingly, “Yeah, Mingi, I’m being fucking for real. I wouldn’t lie about something so embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?” He sputters a bewildered laugh, “That’s, like, the best thing anyone’s ever said to me. I have the fattest crush on you.”
“You have…,” you try to gather your thoughts but there aren’t any to gather, just his words ringing in your head like a timer you can’t turn off.
I have the fattest crush on you. I have the fattest crush on you. Ihavethefattestcrushonyou. IhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrush-
“Yeah, babe, I have a crush on you. I have for a while. San and Wooyoung still fuck with me over how I blew up at them for crashing our Netflix date.”
“So it was a date!” You exclaim victoriously, bouncing in place on the couch and missing the fond, affectionate sparkle in Mingi’s eye. “Yeah, it was a date. And I had plans for that night, too,” Mingi sighs wistfully. “Plans? Like what?” You ask, breathless with all of the ideas racing through your head.
“Like… telling you how I feel. Maybe yawning and putting my arm around you. Maybe a kiss goodnight,” he says slowly, as if he’s nervous about your reaction.
“Mingi, honestly, you could have kissed me hello and I’d have been over the moon,” you respond, promising him with your eyes and a pinky hooked around his.
“So, if I were to kiss you now…,” he begins, inching forward.
“I would kiss you back,” you assure him, heart on your sleeve and in your throat.
Mingi hums, leaning in closer and closer until his plush lips can touch yours, even the barest hint of contact making your heart pound. He doesn’t approach with much pressure, letting you lead and show him what you like, and you hum back, pressing your mouth harder against his. Your tongue peeks out to brush over his perfect bottom lip and his moan surprises you, makes you bite down on his plump flesh and start to suck. He just keeps moaning, his sounds vibrating through your lips and into your bones, the pitch low enough to reverberate. Already, you want him so bad. Want him around and inside and on top of you and under you and every which way you can get him.
You feel like maybe he wants you too, if the way he pulls you closer with one hand on your cheek and the other on your back says anything. The kiss deepens before you can take a breath, his lips pursing around your tongue so he can suck on it, bringing to mind ideas of other things his talented mouth could do. You don’t expect to experience them tonight, knowing that Mingi doesn’t date much and not wanting to push him beyond his comfort level, but damn is it nice to imagine. You’ve imagined lots of things with him, and this is already fulfilling a good number of them.
It’s not enough for Mingi, you find, as he tilts you backwards on the sofa until he can climb on top of you, the hand on your back shifting to your stomach. It hovers there, unsure, until you grab and pull it under your shirt, pressing his palm flat on your belly with a sigh. You make out for a while, just content to feel him (and his tongue) until he starts to seem a little restless.
“You can touch me, Mingi,” you sigh, arching into his hands and dragging the one on your stomach up to cover your breast. You’re only wearing a bralette and you know he can feel the shape of you, feel your nipple pebbling under his palm, but you like it, like the heavy breath he exhales against your lips, the seemingly involuntary twitch of his hand on you. They’re almost intoxicating, his reactions, every sigh and groan going straight to your center. He feels so big on top of you, like if his arms relaxed he could crush you, compress you straight into the couch, and you wonder when exactly Mingi got so fucking thick. He was already tall when you met him but he definitely wasn’t like this, though, obviously, you’re not complaining.
“Can I take this off?” He asks tentatively, rubbing the hem of your shirt between his thumb and forefinger. Nodding, you sit up enough for him to tug it off, giggling when he throws it across the room with a flourish.
“You know you’re picking that up, right?”
“But of course, milady,” he says before cringing immediately and dropping his head into your chest with a groan, mumbling, “Milady? What the fuck is wrong with you, Mingi? You’re finally kissing her and you call her Milady, jesus fucking christ.”
His cheesiness only endears you to him more, as does his shame, so you pick his head up between your hands and plant one on him, kissing him until he seems to forget what he’d said. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth and cupping your cheek in one of his big hands. You love how he gets so lost in kissing you, like it’s the main event and not the opener, and you just know that given the chance, you could get lost in him too.
That’s okay, though, because you trust Mingi. You’d trust him with your body, and your mind, and your heart. Well, you’ve already trusted him with your heart because you’re lowkey in love with him, but that’s beside the point. The point is that you trust Mingi enough to let yourself get lost in him, so you do. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until the sun has gone down and you can barely remember your own name.
At some point, you pull away for water and a bathroom break, but soon enough, you return to the couch to kiss him some more. You undo your bralette on your way back, leaving it on so he’s still the one to take it off. His eyes grow wide and he visibly swallows when he catches sight of you, and by the time you make it to the middle of the room, he’s there too, waiting for you. His hands rise to your shoulders, curving up your neck and coming to rest on your cheeks so he can pull you into a gentle kiss. You sigh into his mouth when his hands smooth back down your throat and catch on the straps, his fingers giving a soft tug, pulling the fabric down slowly.
He doesn’t look yet, just keeps kissing you and making the hottest little noises against your lips, and it’s not long before he’s ushering you onto the couch and helping you to lay on your back. He takes his place between your legs and glances upward to make sure he can use his mouth, kissing his way down your neck and across your chest before sucking a nipple between his lips as soon as you start to nod. He groans deep in his chest like the taste of you is something sweet, nibbles at your flesh and sucks in rhythmic pulses, leaving your breasts littered in little indents from his teeth.
Your head swims, the onslaught of pleasure leaving you breathless, dizzy. You don’t want to rush him but you’ve been wet for hours, and you know he’s been half hard most of the time. There’s only so long you can wait before you either need to stop or keep going, and you’re about to reach that point. He must be able to sense your restlessness because he pulls away with a pop, looking up at you with hazy eyes and swollen, shiny lips.
“What do you wanna do?” He asks, coming up to hover above you on his elbows.
“Everything,” you breathe in response, wrapping your legs around his waist to tug him into you.
You both shudder out a moan, his hips pressing into yours and his hard cock aligned perfectly with the ache between your legs. It feels like so much after so little, the pressure and heat of him, and it makes you buck up against him in search of more friction. His head drops into your neck, the whine he lets out muffled by your skin, and his own hips grind into yours, giving you what you so desperately need.
But it’s not enough, you need more.
“Mingi, do you wanna fuck me?”
He grinds into you again, harder this time, and you can feel the swears he mouths against your throat before he answers, “So fucking bad, baby. You’re all I can think about.”
You resist the urge to wiggle happily underneath him, your heart pounding even harder at the idea of Mingi thinking about you like this. You know you’ve been thinking about him, about having him, in your bed and in your shower and in your car and just about anywhere with a little privacy and at least one surface. You wonder if he’d be down for any of those, but figure your couch is a good enough start.
Pushing him just far enough away to get to your pants, you finish stripping. Mingi takes the hint, yanking off his shirt and shucking his sweats. His boxers go with them and you freeze in place, halfway through bicycling your underwear off and completely unprepared for what the sight of his dick would do to you.
You can feel yourself pulsing as you stare, Mingi taking charge of pulling your undies the rest of the way down and gasping at what he finds. You knew you were wet, but you don’t think either of you expected your panties to be sodden, basically translucent with how much you’ve been leaking. You’d be self conscious if Mingi didn’t look on the verge of tears, his brows screwed up and his eyes misty as he gazes at you. He sets one knee between your legs on the couch, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before whispering, “Can I eat you out? Please?”
Your whole body tenses in anticipation as you nod, letting him tug you to the edge of the couch and pull your legs apart. His hands feel so hot on you, his fingers clenching in your flesh, squeezing at the plush of your thighs just because he can. Another time, you’ll let him play with your body however long he likes but right now, you’re getting desperate.
He’s so close, his plump lips sucking kisses into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you need him to close that final distance, put his mouth to work between your thighs instead of on them.
“Mingi, I need-,”
He shoulders your legs further apart and leans forward, covering the whole of your pussy with his mouth and taking in a deep breath. Your thighs snap closed, boxing his head in, and you try to pull them apart and free him but his arms wrap around them and pull you closer to him. His face is buried in you now, his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue plunges inside of you, making your back arch and your heart stutter.
He groans and grumbles his way through you, the vibrations of his sounds sending you higher and higher. It’s like he can’t get enough, his head pushing deeper into your body and his eyes closed in rapture as he worships you. His agile tongue fucks in and out, spreading your walls and getting you ready for those long fingers.
You can’t wait to feel them inside you, feel them working you open and reaching depths his tongue can’t. You’re starting to feel achingly empty, but before you can even ask Mingi, he’s got two fingers primed at your entrance and his eyes on you. He notches a brow up and you nod quickly, chanting, “Yes, yes, yes,” and shivering when you feel them make contact.
They’re warm, longer than your own and thicker too. Normally, two would be a bit of a stretch to start but you’re soaking wet, relaxed from all of the foreplay to the foreplay, so they slide right in. He moans deeply, pressing his open mouth against your thigh and digging his teeth in as if to retaliate for how good your pussy feels around his fingers. You bite back a smirk and squeeze down around them, the contracting of your walls making them feel even bigger inside you.
Mingi looks up at you, his eyes shining and full of sincerity, and leans back in to close his lips around your clit and suck. Your reaction is instant, your pussy fluttering and your breath stuttering as he holds eye contact. You can’t look away, intoxicated by his movements and swiftly nearing the edge.
When he slides in one more finger and starts tonguing at your clit as he sucks it, you’re done for.
A flash of heat shoots through you, his arms anchoring you to the couch where you want to fly away, the coil in your belly tightening more and more until it bursts. Your walls clamp down on his digits, your hands flying to his head to pull him into you, making him whimper around your clit and suck harder as you cum.
You don’t know how long it goes on, just that Mingi never stops and you never want him to.
He easily pushes you into a second, a third, almost a fourth, before you clench your fingers in his hair and try to pull him up. He looks up at you with hazy eyes, his lips pink and swollen and shiny with your wetness.
“Wanna kiss you,” you mumble tiredly, pursing your lips and waiting for him to rise and grant you what you want.
He does, of course, getting to his feet and shaking out his legs before bracing a hand over you on the couch and leaning down to press his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on him but you don’t mind, like it even, the fact that there’s evidence of what he’s done to you. You’d like him to do more, but first you need to make sure he wants to.
“Do you still-,”
“God, yes,” he moans, nearly straddling you on the couch as he cups your jaw with his free hand and deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding against yours before his teeth close on your bottom lip.
“Condom?” He asks breathlessly, pulling away and sitting heavily on the couch. You take the hand he’s reached out to you, using it to steady yourself as you climb on top of him and respond, “Just got tested and I get the birth control shot, so…”
“Joong and Seonghwa took us all to get tested a couple weeks ago and everything was negative, so…”
“So, no condom.”
The thought of Mingi fucking you raw is enough to make your pussy start pulsing again, and you can tell he loves the idea too, his breaths coming faster and his hands growing possessive on you.
“Can I?” You ask, motioning down at his cock and waiting for him to nod before taking it in your hand. He’s hot to the touch, long and thick enough you’d need two hands to jerk him off, not that he needs it right now. He’s deliciously hard and already glistening with precum, and you feel the throbbing deepen, the emptiness inside you nearing pain.
“You gonna put me in?” He asks in a deep, soft voice as he rubs your thighs and squeezes your hips.
You angle his cock so you can slide it through your folds, the head bumping into your clit and making you jump before you roll your hips and notch it at your entrance. He lets you control the pace, his hands meandering over your breasts, stomach, and back as you start to work him inside.
“There we go, just like that, baby, fuck,” he murmurs, his grip getting tighter and tighter as you take more and more of him.
He spread you open on his fingers but it’s still a tight fit, gravity and determination pulling you down until your hips meet his and his cock sits fully inside you. You can’t speak, can’t keep your eyes open, the stretch so deep and your pussy so full you just might cry. You have no idea of Mingi’s reaction, can only hear the rapid filling and emptying of his lungs and the punched out noises that leave him every time you accidentally squeeze down. You have a feeling that if you could open your eyes, you’d find his clenched shut and his bottom lip bitten between his teeth.
The image you conjure is hot enough it gives you the strength needed to force your eyelids apart and look at him, your gaze finding a near exact match to that of your imagination. His head is resting against the back of the couch, his jawline sharp and his veins popping, and you have a sneaking suspicion he’s trying not to cum right now.
You can’t blame him, it was hours of making out and then another hour of him making you cum, and he’s had barely any stimulation through all of that. You have half a mind to clamp your walls down on him, squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until he breaks, but instead, you’ll give him the time he needs.
It takes a minute or two of you just sitting on his cock for him to calm, but when he does, he’s ready to go. He bucks into you one, two, three times before gripping your hips and opening his eyes, his gaze raw and his face slack.
“How do you feel so fucking good?” He asks like he means it, like he’s waiting for an answer. You don’t have one, so you just smile and roll your hips into him, your grin growing when his breath hitches.
He swears roughly, his dick jumping inside you and his grasp tightening as he responds with a thrust of his own, your call and answer soon growing into a true rhythm. Your head falls back as you bounce in his lap, your thighs shaking every time his cock fills you again, the slapping of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. One of his hands leaves your hips to cup the back of your neck and hold your head up, making you hold his gaze as you gasp and moan. You’ve never had so much eye contact during sex before, the connection usually feeling far too intimate and exposing, but you love having it with Mingi.
It feels like he’s burrowing deeper into your heart with every thrust, carving his name into it with every brush of his thumb under your ear, taking it for his own as he makes you his own, his cock reaching sensitive spots you didn’t know you had.
You think he might be going through the same thing because he tugs you closer until you’re chest to chest and he’s just grinding inside you, your air mixing with his and your walls massaging his cock. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him into a kiss that feels more like a promise and whisper against his lips, “Mingi, I really, really like you. Like a lot. Like probably too much.”
Your last word is broken by a sharp thrust, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he whines, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me-”
He cuts himself off with a low moan, his other hand leaving your hip so he can wrap his arm around you and hold you so tight you almost can’t breathe.
“Cum, Mingi,” you tell him, feeling the heat burst inside of you almost instantly, his cock jerking and jumping inside of you as he fills you with his cum. You’ve never let someone fuck you raw before and the feeling of him flooding you is strange but hot, something you could easily get used to and probably grow to love, if he’ll keep doing it.
That’s something to discuss later, but for now, you’re busy. Mingi is coming down, his eyes teary as he blinks the haze away and leans down to rest his head against your sternum. You pet his hair with one hand and rub his back with the other, feeling his cum starting to trickle out now that he’s softening.
You’ll need to get off this couch eventually, clean yourselves up and gather the clothes you’d flung, but you can’t find the will to move yet. Mingi is so soft against you, so warm and sweet, and you don’t want this bubble to burst.
It might when it comes time for the relationship talk, but considering the fact that he just almost came from you telling him you really like him, you’re pretty sure it’ll go well.
.
It does, and Mingi leaves your apartment the next day with rumpled clothes, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, and good news for the groupchat.
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sunflower-lilac42 · 21 days
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✧ 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 || hughes brothers ♔
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summary: in which she is asked to call her brothers to see who would send her money
warnings: luke being siblingly mean
publish date: 04/07/24
notes: just a little blurb idea thing i thought of when i was watching youtube shorts and yes there are two versions because i couldn't help myself. it is short and dialogue-heavy but oh well | add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!
nhl masterlist | main masterlist
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Version One | The One Where They're All Together
She was walking through campus with her friend, talking about what had just happened in the past day that they had seen each other. As they got closer to their destination a man approached them. He was around their age, maybe a year or two older, he had a microphone in one hand as a camera guy trailed behind him, “Do you guys have any siblings?”
The two nodded, a little skeptical, “I’ll give 20 dollars to whoever can convince their sibling to send them more money than the fiend person.”
Her friend whined, “No, her brothers are rich, this is so easy for her, it isn’t fair.”
“Oh, they’re actually all together right now so that works! Wait, why am I making them send me money? I’ll think of something.”
Y/n pulled out her phone and face-timed Jack, hoping that out of the three of them, he’d pick up, “Hey y/n/n!”
Quinn and Luke joined the frame soon after, “Uh hey, can I ask you guys a huge favor?”
All three raised an eyebrow, but Luke answered, “What is it?”
“Can you guys send me some money? I need to buy a new textbook but my paycheck hasn’t come-“
“How much?”
“Like a 100? I’ll pay you back, I kind of need it soon.”
Quinn, being the big brother he loved to be, answered right away, “Yeah, of course. no need to pay me back too.”
“I promise I will.”
“Nope, I make like millions a year, I think I can spare my baby sister 100 bucks.”
“Thanks, Quinny. good luck tomorrow you guys. Love you.”
“Love you too.” The three chorused back right before she hung up.
Quinn was quick to send her the money, yet instead of the 100 she asked for, he sent her 200. Attached was a note saying that they missed her and to go buy some food for her and her friend.
“Hah, have fun beating that.”
Her friend called her sister, getting a mere $30 from her. She frowned and rolled her eyes, telling y/n that she owed her for lunch now. And after the guy left, she sent all $200 back plus the extra 20 she had just got saying it was just for a video and that she loved him. Jack and Luke whined about losing 20 dollars after that.
✧༺✎༻∞
Version Two | The One Where She Asks All Of Them Separately
She and her friend had been walking back from class, talking about the new project that they were doing. They were on their way to grab something to eat as it had been slowly approaching lunchtime. There was a guy in the courtyard, with a microphone and his own camera guy. It was a little weird and they became a little skeptical when he asked them if the two had any siblings.
While her friend shook her head no, she replied, “Yeah, three.”
So while they couldn’t see whose sibling would send them the most money, they could see which ones out of hers would, “Okay we haven’t done this one before but I’ll give whatever sibling of yours who sends you more money 20 bucks.”
“Deal!”
She called Quinn first, figuring that out of the three of them, he would be the one not doing anything at this time of day. He answered instantaneously, a soft hi coming from his side of the phone. 
“Hey Quinny, I have a favor to ask you.”
“What’s up?”
“Can you send me some money? I have-“
“Yeah, how much?”
“You didn’t even let me finish my question.”
“You’re my sister, I’m going to send you money no matter what. I mean unless you’re buying drugs, are you buying drugs?”
“No just my-“
“Yeah okay. How much?”
“Like 50?”
“Okay, I’ll send you the money. I have to go, but I’ll call you later, okay? I love you.”
“Love you too.”
She looked back at her phone and smiled when she realized he sent her 75 instead of 50. She looked back up as she moved to call Jack, “Alright, let’s see what Jack will do.”
Jack answered his phone within the first three rings, “Y/n.”
“Jackson.”
“What’s up sasquatch?”
“I got a favor to ask you.”
“Should I be scared?”
“I don’t know, do you have a reason for the Devils to stop paying you?”
“No?” His voice was more confused than worried at this point.
“Okay cool, can I borrow some money? Just like 50 bucks.”
“For what reason?”
“I need some new books for class.”
Jack raised an eyebrow from the other side, “positive?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay fine. 50 you said?”
“Mhm.”
“I’ll send it when we hang up.”
“Thank you, Jack. I love you.”
“Love you, you dork.”
And when the phone hung up and she got a notification, she realized Jack had sent her the exact amount she was looking for, “Cheapskate. Just kidding, I’m sending this back anyway after this video. Alright, I highly doubt Luke will send me any money, but we can try at least.”
“Luke!”
“Hey y/n/n.”
“Listen I got this huge favor I need to ask you.”
“Whatever it is, no.”
“Not even for your favorite sister?”
“Not even for my “favorite” sister. What is it anyway?”
“I was just wondering if you could send me some money for my-“
“Yeah, no.”
“What do you mean no? You didn’t even let me finish?”
“I’m broke.”
“You play hockey for a living and make more than me right now.”
“So? Get your own money.”
She scoffed, “Rude. And this is why you aren’t my favorite.”
“Oh well.”
“Bye Luke.” She hung up before he could say anything else.
“And just for that I’m sending Quinn and Jack like an extra 20 each.”
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𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑱𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝒀 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺 + 𝑽𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑺 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
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spider-stark · 1 year
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SPIDER-BOY
Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader
Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.
friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)
// masterlist // send me your thoughts //
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Two months. 
That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned. 
Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.
And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return. 
Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far. 
“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?” 
Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?” 
“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.” 
“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?” 
“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing. 
His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.” 
“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.” 
Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance. 
“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further. 
“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.  
Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?” 
“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.” 
He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.” 
You cocked a brow at him, “How so?” 
“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?” 
“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile. 
Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.” 
“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted. 
“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.” 
“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.” 
Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.” 
Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short. 
His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology. 
“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment. 
“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.” 
He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.” 
The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face. 
“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.” 
Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing. 
“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.” 
His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it. 
“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.” 
Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights. 
Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.
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reveluving · 5 months
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see you soon ; jason todd x batmom reader (ft bruce wayne)
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includes: jason's beloved dubbed 'princesa' (can read it as her and/or jason being latina/latino or spanish being jason's 1st/2nd language!) & tooth-rotting fluff!
a/n: combining @xoxokirby's jason todd x princesa with my batmom AU in this quick, cute thought because I just love talking about them together 💗
check out my batmom m.list &lt;3
"Alright, so here's the hot chocolate," You carefully passed Jason the heavy double-cup holder, "And in here is your Philly cheesesteak, some soups and your girl's panini sandwich. And I threw in some brownie pudding in there since we had extra. Make sure you don't heat it up beyond forty-five seconds. You're lucky you texted me just as dinner rush started."
While waiting for Jason to come and pick up the orders he had requested you just hours ago, you closed down the necessary so you could head home with Bruce straight away once he finishes his work in the office. Not once had Jason stopped offering on taking you back to the manor first before heading back to his girlfriend at his apartment, but you insisted otherwise.
And how could he say no to his mother?
"Yeah, that's on me," Your son smiled sheepishly, holding the bags of food and drinks with ease, "Y'sure we don't gotta pay up?"
"What makes you think I'm making my own kids pay for food at my café all of a sudden?" You rested your hands on your hips, brows raised as if he had asked the dumbest question ever.
"'m just askin', y'don't have to be so mad. Sheesh," He shrugged, only to dodge your playful smack with a laugh, "Kiddin', kiddin'."
But the big smile on his face remained.
A lot of things make him smile, be it from you, his siblings, Bruce at times or his beloved, but he just couldn't help replaying how you considered his girl one of 'your kids', as if, like him, you just knew she was the one.
"Be sure to tell her about the family dinner that we're having in two weeks." You reminded him, slipping on your gloves before turning off most of the lights. It would be her first dinner with the Waynes, and you wanted nothing more than to have her as a part of your family’s cheesy traditions.
"I will," He nodded, and just as you wondered about the extra joy he was radiating, he hugged you with one arm—the one that was holding the bag of food, "Thanks, ma."
"Oh, Jay," You chuckled, returning the hug with a few pats in his back, "I'm just looking out for my kids."
Just then, you and Jason heard the sound of engine approaching, and lo and behold, the familiar black Aston Martin came into view.
"That's our cue. C'mon," You playfully pushed him from the back, drawing a worried 'ma!', afraid he might drop the food. You just responded to his pout with a cheeky smile before exiting the café, with him waiting for you to lock the door. Winter came in early in Gotham, and the citizens took the opportunity to decorate the city in ways that seemed so... familial.
You opened the passenger door, "Hey." You lit up as Bruce leaned in, his warm lips tickled your cold cheek.
"Sorry I'm late. Tried to finish up some of the last reports before the holidays."
You reassured him, shaking your head as you did, "You're not, I promise. Plus, Jay waited with me."
Bruce looked over at your door, where Jason stood, "Thanks, Jason. Head home safely and don't forget about the dinner, alright?"
"I won't," He nodded curtly as he walked backwards, heading to the alley where he parked his bike, "I'll text y'when I reach home."
"Say hi to princesa for us!" You grinned, waving as you watched your son disappear into the back of the store. You closed the door, turning to Bruce and officially greeting him with a quick but nonetheless sweet kiss, "Hi, you."
"Hi yourself," He sighed in content, leaning in for another kiss as he held the steering wheel, "Shall we?"
"Of course." You replied, and just as your seatbelt clicked into place, Jason drove past you, but not before waving at you and Bruce as he did.
With the end of the year around the corner, you were tired, and so was Bruce. Jason was no different and he didn't doubt that his girl was beat, too.
But it was impossible to suppress the smiles on your faces, knowing that none of you will end the day by your lonesome.
Just a hot drink in hand, a comfy bed to cuddle up in, and your other half to hold onto.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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yuyu1024 · 3 months
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Escape
Pairings: Yoongi × y/n
Genre/tags: Arranged marriage
Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, Smoking, jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, oral (m/f receiving), mention of blood/violence
~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 5.8k
Disclaimer:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
Note: continuation of Prisoner.
I hope this is a good part 2. 🙏🏻 took me a while coz idk if i should or not. 😅 sorry guys.
(This may continue a bit more...? But please be patient 🙏🏻 as I do have work & usually I try to write before i sleep but lately i've beeen so tired and drained that I cant even function 😅)
***
Another day, another event to go to. You are wearing your best 'pretend' smile. The smile you have practiced for months, to be your default expression whenever you meet anyone in any formal event. It's not that your trying to be fake. You just want to represent your husband the best that you can. And being a shy person, this is what you can do to help yourself.
Although, you wish, that even just one time, Yoongi would show up to these events with you.
At the first month of your marriage, he did. He did that to introduce you to everybody. You could still remember how you two were holding hands and always together. Those were the days when you have spent so much time with him.
But... Now, it's just always you. Alone. Amongst everyone in the whole place, you are the only one who always arrives with no partner.
"Excuse me?"
You twirl around and find the prettiest girl you think you have ever seen in your life. She looks like a goddess.
"Ahm, yes?" Your voice sounded so weak. You haven't said a word in the last hour.
"You are the only one wearing a corsage with a hint of lilac flowers in it... I'm guessing... you are Yoongi's wife?" She asks
"Ah, yes. I am." You look down at the flower pinned on your chest
She's smiling at you. She looks sort of happy to see you. "Finally... I've met you."
You haven't said a word. You are not sure how to approach this. You have no idea who she is and why is she approaching you. Plus, You are sort of intimidated by her. She is a beautiful, a sophisticated woman. She have this energy from her that says she is different than anyone else. You could feel your difference with her. Though you are covered with all highend brands of clothing and accessories. You can still see it.
"Oh, sorry... if I'm invading your personal time..." she says, "I am a friend of Yoongi... well... an old friend... from University" she explains. "Sarang."
"Oh." You smile and bow. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N... I'm sorry... I've not met any of his friends yet so...I didn't know..."
"It's fine. I understand."
She looks like she came from a regal family, the same level as Yoongi. Also, her beauty.... takes your breathe away. She remind you of how you reacted the first time you saw Yoongi. In awe.
"Thank you for coming here also..." she says as she walks you around the gallery. "I hope you find something to your liking here that... would be a part of your home or either a gift to anyone you love."
As you two talk more, you learned that she's the one that threw this charity event. She gathered all these arts from known artists, to auction. She says that 100% of the earnings from it will go to the children's hospital that she have been donating ever since.
You have just met her and you are already at amazed by her. Not by just her prominent looks but also the way she talks and speaks her mind is very inspiring and uplifting. Because of her words you find it easy buying two items in the collection. You know all of the money will go and be used for something good.
You chose the items, the two that caught your attention the moment you entered the gallery. Both are paintings of a beautiful flowerfield which reminds you of your past. The field where you would always go with your friends and have picnic during summer break.
Such beautiful memory that you wish you could've not taken for granted. You wish you could re-live those moments again. And the paintings, those paintings you chose might go well in your own study room.
"It's nice meeting you..." she says, cutting you from reminiscencing your past
"Thank you too for inviting us.. though... my husband couldn't come..."
She smiles, lips pressed together. "He hasn't changed at all. Not very social and just focused on just working..."
Hmm.. The way she talks, the way she describes your husband is very detailed. She seem to know him pretty well. 'They are friends' you say to yourself but then at the back of your mind, a thought, just a tiny thought about him and her, is peaking through.
'Is she an ex of his?'
'If not an ex... probably... someone who liked him?'
I know, this is no place nor time to think about these but you can't help it.
Look at her and then you look at yourself. You two are totally opposites. From status to looks. And probably from personaly to intelligence. She is more than you. She is perfect. You think that he and Yoongi might or will get along more than you and him.
"Ahm... I ahm..." you start to feel uncomfortable with all of your self pity thoughts. You need to get a hold of yourself. "Sorry... I'll... I'll just go to the bar and have some drink..." you say as you clutch on to your dress.
"Oh. Okay." Sarang says. "You want me to accompany you...?"
You shake your head, "No... thank you... don't mind me... please go ahead and tour the rest of the guest." You say pointing at the newly arrived guests.
You turn around immediately before she could response again.
This is weird. You're not sure why you suddenly have the urge to drink. Even though you don't drink. Also because, you can't. Literally, can't.
You only drink red wine when you are offered to drink, by Yoongi of course. It's only when he asks you to join him during nights when he needs company or if you two are to discuss things about the family.
You don't drink also because you are a lightweight. You get tipsy and red easily. One time when you had more than three glasses of red with your husband, you instantly changed personality. You have no idea how and what changed besides the stories that your maid said the day after which were embarassing.
You have no recollection of anything besides the fact that you were on the sofa, inside Yoongi's home office, butt naked and only have Yoongi's blazer on you.
"Mrs. Min, what can I get you?" The cute guy behind the bar asks as you reach your destination.
"How... do you know who I am?"
He smiles, "We had the lists of the guests coming tonight... with photos." He pours water into a glass
"With details...? who can and cannot drink... I suppose?"
He nods. "Your husband noted... to not serve any alcohol to you Miss."
"Even... I want to? Or... pay?"
"I'm sorry Miss..." he says, "If you like we can offer you our non-alcohol champagne?"
You sigh heavily. You badly want to drink. Even just one glass to calm yourself. But...you can't. Yoongi have rules and you cannot avoid and disobey them.
He does give you the freedom to do whatever you want but when it comes to what not to do or what he likes, he have a handful.
1. Don't cut your hair short
2. Don't drink when he's not present nor ordered by him
3. Don't leave the house without atleast one body guard
4. Don't wear perfume (he gets dizzy)
5. Use the safeword during sex
And etc.
The rules are quite simple. Nothing to weird nor to hard to follow. It's just you compromising. And also, you do have a hard time saying no to Him.
"Thanks." You mumble, sighing as you take the glass of water and walk away from the bar.
After figuring out you can't drink to calm yourself, you decide to just go somewhere outside, away from the crowd and peaceful to get fresh air. Lucky you, you found an exit that leads you to the garden.
As time have gone by, you're not sure how long have you been there, staring at the fountain, the flowers and even starring down at your feet every now and then. You thought being out here will leave your head empty. Not worrying about anything. But then you'd catch yourself pouting and comparing yourself to all the ladies you have seen in the event, especially the last person you have talked to.
Your self pity and low self-esteem is thriving today than usual. Is it the lack of sleep? Or because of the one guy from earlier giving you a judging look that made you regret wearing the dress you picked? What happened?
These thoughts are not very helpful. Especially lately, well probably more on daily basis, you do wonder why Yoongi chose you. To marry.
They've said, more particularly his parents said, that he didn't like the ones they suggested for him; so he decided to pick you. To marry you instead of those women who is on the same level as him or close to his family's wealth.
Odd isn't it? Why would someone like him, an elite bachelor, pick a girl from a lower class family to marry? What did he see in you? What made him randomly pick you? You are not special, inexperience about life and not alluring as the other girls in his world. What did he saw? How did he even saw you? You were sure you two never met before. So did he hire someone to find a daughter from a poor family or what?
Instead of clearing your mind, you suddenly had these outburst of questions.
"What are you doing here?"
Your eyes widens after hearing a familiar voice. You didn't dare to speak. You just slowly turn your upper body around to see him, walking slowly towards you.
He's wearing a tuxedo. His hair is slightly slicked back and his scar. His beautiful scar. It's him.
You can't believe what you are seeing. He's really here. Why? He's been away for a week because of work and when did he came back?
"Y-yoongi..." you mumble, standing up
"I asked you..." he says as he stands right in front of you. Then you see his eyes darts down at your glass of water, sitting beside you. "Your bodyguard said... you asked for a drink." He looks back at you, his expression is so serious.
"I ahm... sorry..." you lower your gaze.
"You know... you can't drink."
"I'm sorry..." you whisper softly
"Let her have fun." A woman's voice says. "She just wants to have a glass of wine. It won't hurt."
Slowly raising your eyes, you see her, Sarang, standing from afar from you and Yoongi.
Her stance at this moment is unidentical to her persona earlier. It feels like she is a completely different person, though her appearance is the same. Something shifted.
"She did an amazing job.. representing you earlier." She adds
Your eyes then goes to Yoongi. You want to see his reaction to the angelic woman speaking. You are curious. No one talks to him directly like that, blunt and straight forward, even you.
Sarang is brave to talk casually to him.
"Ready the car..." Yoongi finally speaks after a monent of silence. Ordering one of his men to move.
That was it?
"I'll return the items. Keep the money. I don't care." He says while he's looking at you, straight into your eyes. Though you know, even his eyes are on you, he's not actually speaking to you.
"Yoongi le---" she tries to speak again but he didn't allowed it.
Yoongi just slightly turned his head to give her a side eye. He is not pleased. "My wife and I are leaving..." and then takes your hand to hold onto. "Let's go home..." he says that only you can hear.
"Ahm...ahh... okay." You say, lost by the sudden fierceness from him
***
"Get in." He orders you
Carefully climbing in the car, you move to the other side making sure there is a space betweem you two.
"Home please." Yoongi says to his driver as he shuts the door.
"Sir." The man answers, nodding and then pushes a button that closes the opening between the driver to the passenger seat of the car.
We are now isolated.
He looks so tired. Looks like he just came back and went straight to event to pick you up.
"I have my driver with me... you could've rested at home." You say
He sighs and closes his eyes. "I'm fine."
Did he purposely pick you up because he wants to see you? Did he missed you while he was away for a week?
Your mind is filled with questions and curiosity but you cannot dream of these questions to be real. You have to remember, he just married you because he have no other choice. There is no love in between you two. You are married by paper only that is worth a lot of money. Everything you are doing for him is to repay all of his kindness to you and your family.
This is all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy.
"Come closer..." he softly says. His eyes are still shut but his arm is arching, gesturing for me to take place in then. "Y/n..." he opens his eyes, calling my name. You scoot over his side. He immediately puts his arm around you, making sure you are close. "You're shaking..." he utters as he goes back to closing his eyes, resting his head back. "You're almost naked with that dress of yours..."
"Sorry..." you say looking down at your knotted fingers. "I thought it will look good....that's why I wore it."
He sighs. "You do look good..." then he shifts in his position and makes sure you're looking back at him. Then he starts leans in, to kiss you.
"Wait..."
He pauses, confused by your reaction. You have never denied his kiss before.
"I'm sorry..."
"What for?" He asks
"Well..." you look to the front, where the driver is. "Do we just kiss or..." you whisper
Yoongi didn't expect your question which made him smile. "It depends." He is looking straight into your eyes, your face are just inches away.
"He might hear us..." you whisper
"I don't fucking care." He moves forward and finally catches your lips.
***
After travelling for almost half an hour, you finally reach home.
"Welcome home, Miss..." The maid greets the second you slide out of the car. she then sees Yoongi, coming out from the other side of the car. "Master!" She bows again. "Welcome..."
They are suprised to see him. They didn't expect him to arrive with you. Looks like none of them knew he went to pick you up.
"Do we have anything to eat?" You softly ask the maid, then you realized that it's already late and that they have to rest too. "Oh... Sorry... never mind... you may go and rest." You give her a faint smile.
Then slowly walking towards the elevator, you could see your husband's reflection through the glass doors. He is busy already with his phone.
"Y/n..."
You glance up, peaking through the reflection. He is walking towards you. So you wirl around and waited for him to stand in front of you.
"Ask your assistant to remove all charities or event under the Lee's tomorrow. Even parties." He says as he undo his bow tie. "And... to not accept any invitation from them...again"
"Why?"
He didn't answer. No answer means he's serious.
"Okay..." You just answer before turning your back at him again.
Thinking about what you are in his world is heart breaking in a way. You are nothing but someone he owns. You just go with the flow of his world.
Yes you do had an idea what you've signed up for but its still shocking nonetheless how everything is unfolding and is doing.
"Aren't you getting in?"
You look up and see that he is in the elevator already, waiting.
"S-sorry..." you say before entering. You try your best to not make eye contact with him.
After both of you settled in, the maid follows and taps on level 3. That is where both your rooms are.
Oddly, Yoongi taps on the Upper ground after her. "Can you please cook something light before you leave? My wife needs to eat." He orders
"Yes, Master." She answers just in time when the elevator stops on UG.
"We'll both be down after we shower and get rested a bit."
"Understood, Master." She exists the elevator, bows and immediately walks off.
'My wife'. It is the second time he said that today. He never says that.
"Don't skip meals." He mumbles as the door closes
You didn't answer. You didn't mean to skip a meal or two today. And maybe a few days before too. You were nervous. One main reason is the dress you're wearing right now is very revealing. A satin black backless maxi dress. You wanted be perfect in the dress thats why, even though you know it's not achievable.
*pings*
The elevator door opens on level 3. You step out and about to turn to your wing when you hear him call your name again.
"Where are you going?" He asks
"T-to my room..." you sound so weak, "To shower..."
"Shower here." He says, suggesting the shower in his wing. Meaning in his room. Meaning his bathroom.
"Hmm?" You are lost in translation. Why is he asking you to shower there all of a sudden.
"To my room." And then he undo the first two buttons of his shirt.
"W-what? Why?"
He didn't say another word. He just continued to walk off towards his room leaving you.
"W-wait..." You take two steps forward but then stops.
"Y/N...." you hear the heels of his shoes stop hitting the marbled floor. His back is facing you. "I said, shower here. I didn't ask you to decide." he then turns around and you see his white top basically open now. "Will you go and shower with me or do you want me to peel that dress off you and carry you to my room?"
Flusttered by his remark, you just released an unsolicited shaky breathing. "Ahm... yes... I'm... I'm coming..."
***
[Flashback to Yoongi's side]
(Earlier... as soon as Yoongi arrived at the charity event)
Some of the people in the event went silent for a few seconds the moment they saw you enter the building. They all didn't expect you to show up since your wife was already present. But of course, they still greeted you with a smile and tried to make small talks. They want to be on your good side. They know what you are capable off. What power you hold in this world.
However, you don't care about these fuckers. You dropped by because you received a call from your wife's bodyguard that Y/N is not looking okay.
"Where is she?" You ask the man standing behind you.
"She just left the bar, Sir. And went out to the garden." He reply.
"I see."
One step, you just took one step and somebody already stands in your way to your wife.
"Look who's here."
"Sarang." You say her name, bitterly. You are not expecting her to be here.
"You have been ignoring my invites for quite some time now... I thought, helping others is one of your goals in life that's why you work 24/7?"
"I thought this event was by the Lee's?" You hiss at your male assistant.
"It is, Sir. By--"
"Lee Do-Hyun..." she cuts off the assistant. "My husband..." she proudly says. "Aww.. That kind a... hurts my feelings...that... you have no idea I got married..."
"I don't keep tab on people who's not important to me."
She scoffs but she sounded a bit insulted and her ego got hurt. But she's good at pretending that it didn't bothered her. "You say that now...but a few years ago... I was your muse..." she tries to move closer to you but your body guards stands in between quickly.
"Was." You look away from her and try to search for your wife through the window not far away from where you stand. "My mistake for socializing to a liar, back stabbing... leech like you." You say, then giving her a side eye. "I wish your husband good fortune... or that he loves spoiling you... or esle... he'll found out his wife's true color..."
You're about to walk away, again, but this bitch still wants to talk to you.
"You think... she'll not get tired of you? Of you controlling her? Especially getting married with you... with no love at all?" She snorts a laugh again. "Or maybe... she will not..." she mumbles under her breathe, "Now... It figures... why you picked someone from a low class family... someone with no choice but to stay with you because her family needs your money. I see..." she laughs again, "poor girl... if I were her, I would milk you all of your money so it will be worth it... after all she married a controlling, dominant, and a freaky person like you."
You know Y/N is not like her. She is a nice person. She's not into money like this bitch is. However, you do think about how Y/N thinks about you and her marriage to you.
You admit that you are very controlling when it comes to her. It is one of your negative trait that you cannot put away. It comes natural with you because of the life you have been brought up and your business. You want things to happen in your way and you are also possessive. You do try to controll it when it comes to her but you are not sure if you are doing it right.
Well how could you know, you never talk about it. Even with your wife. You never asked about her feelings and opinions.
"Watch your mouth." You mumble. "You might think you know me from the years we've been together. But you haven't seen half of what I can and would do... if anyone picks a fight with me.." you glare at her. "Consider this a warning."
[End of flashback from Yoongi's side]
*************
"Miss..."
Slowly opening your eyes, your eyes carefully adjusted to the light. You could see the ray of sunshine peaking through your dark thick curtains.
"Miss..."
You turn your head to the side and see your maid bowing.
"It's noon Miss..."
"Oh."
It has been a quite a few days now, since you start waking up this late. You are usually up early. You are a morning person. You also do jogs or walks around the property and sometimes go to the home gym to move, always. But something shifted in your routines.
You are tired, less motivated and no will to get up your bed.
"I think we need to call the family doctor now, Miss." The maid suggested. "You've lost a bit of weight and you look pale."
"I'm fine." You say as you push your duvet off your body and slide down off your bed. "I'll take a quick bath..." you mumble
"Understood." She is ready to come along with you.
"No... I'm fine... I'll just go alone... just prepare food for me please."
"But... Miss..." she usually prepares your bath and always stays with you there. After the little accident you had a year ago when you first experience a hot bath on the tub. You fainted because you fell asleep. Too much enjoyment and you forgot it is not good to stay long in there.
"I'll be fine." You smile and requested for her to leave
"Okay Miss... but... I will be back after half an hour to check."
"Sure."
You slept last night, wearing your silk robe and your fancy cream nightgown, his favorite. You were expecting Yoongi to come home last night as per usual schedule. But he didn't. He didn't even informed the staff that he'll not be home for a longer period.
What happened? You don't know.
The last time you talked to him was the night he asked you to come to his room and shower with him.
Everything that night was magical. For you atleast. But then you ruined it.
When you both entered his dark room, he immediately clung onto you. He held you like everything depends on it. It was more intemate and hungry than the usual and you liked it for some reason. After all the self doubt and insecurity you felt in the party, the intemacy made you feel more than what you feel.
And when he peeled off your dress from your body, you didn't expected him to go down on his knees and lick your soul out of your body. His tongue did more than you know he could do. It brought you to another level of high. And you didn't know you could screech like an animal because of it. He really made sure you are on cloud nine or even beyond that.
"Fuck me... please..." you begged him after you knees weakened and fall down the floor where he is.
"No." He said. He was sturn. "No request for tonight." He said and then he positioned you underneath him where he could properly see you crumble because of him.
"Y-yoongi... please.... I need... I want to come..." you begged
He brought you to cloud nine but then hold onto your pearls when you were about to orgasm.
"I'm punishing you right now..." he said as he lowers down and starts to run his tongue from your chest up. "Next time... don't wear any sort of revealing clothes...when I'm not around.. do you understand that Y/N?"
"Y-yes..."
"Another rule to add... are you okay with that?" He hummed the last words on your ears before he let both his hands squeeze your breast. "Answer me..."
"I don't... mind..." you were squearming underneath him. He was playing your nipples then. "I... I don't mind... Yoongi..." you repeated, pleading.
His punishment continued for another few minutes. It was too much. You were struggling catching your bliss but he's playing you. However, you are patient. You know his kinks and you know what he wants and so you do whatever and accept whatever. Coz you know it is from him.
"Scream my name." He grunted as he pounds you with no mercy.
You were holding on to his massive bookshelf on the wall, your legs were lifted and hanging over his forearm whilst he was thrusting deep in you. You were getting hurt from your back hitting the shelves but it didn't matter. You don't know why but for some reason you can endure everything just for Yoongi. Even pain.
"Nnggghhaaa..." you threw your arms around his neck as he went faster. "Please!" You cry on his neck. "Aaaahhh!!" You screamed the orgasm you have been keeping for a while. You felt relieved and content.
And as you two were catching your breath. You uttered words that surprised the both of you. You said 'I love you' to Yoongi.
It should not be a surprise. You two are married right. However since yours are different from others, those words were never said or mentioned ever after the wedding. It is like a forebidden phrase though there are no rule about it. It's like an unspoken deal that no one says those words since THIS.. YOU TWO... is just a fantasy. You two got together with no love. It is not real. You are just one of his property.
And so, after that night. That magical night for you ended up into this cold, quiet and empty prison. Again. You are back to nothing.
You thought you are on a journey escaping that confinement. You thought that something is going to change. You thought... that you were wrong about him. But who are you kidding? You were just having sex like you used to. It is nothing special. It is the same crap. So you saying you love him is... worthless.
"Did I even mean it?" You ask yourself as you lay down in your hot bath. "I said it... after sex.." you are trying to understand how those words slipped out of your lips. If it all just happened because of such high from the sex.
You can clearly remember how you said it. You paused, looked into his eyes and carefully said it. You know you said it with the intent for him to hear it but when you saw his reaction. It made you realize what a big mistake it was.
"Am I having feelings for him?" You mumble as you lower yourself more into the water. "I should not right?"
You know the answer to your own quesion. Look at him even ignoring you for almost two weeks now. Who are you even kidding thinking it will have an effect on him?
After the 'I love you' incident, He eat dinners without you or he let you eat first before he comes out of his home office. And then when he leaves, he does not inform you now. You just get the news of him flying off somewhere from your maid. Even his men are being cautious with you. He must've ordered them to be distant but at the same time protect you.
How funny that these are his responses to you. You know you deserve it but you're a little bit hurt, your not going to lie.
"Who am I for him to love?" You sigh. "Maybe... I should just prepare myself for the ending of this fantasy..."
*********
"Master." The maids bows as they suddenly sees Yoongi enter the main entrance while they are all cleaning.
Yoongi have not been home for a while. He has been... busy.
"Give them all my clothes." He says to his right hand man. "Sorry if it's quite a lot today." He then says to the maids as he removes his black coat revealing his white button up shirt, stained with blood. A lot of it. No one reacted to the visual that is shown. All the staff are used to it. They know how his world is.
"Where is she?" He asks as he loosen up his tie
All the maids in the corredor suddenly turn heads to the youngest one at the end of the line. She is Y/N personal maid.
"Master." She steps forwards and bows again. "Miss is in her bath."
Yoongi frowns. "Alone?"
"Ahm..." she suddenly stutters. "Sorry, Master! She... Miss wanted to... alone... but I told her after half an hour I will go back."
"How long has she been there?" He then throws his tie on the ground.
"Twenty."
"Okay." He takes a deep breathe and tries to collect himself. "Just go and be on standby in her room. She can't stay any longer."
"Okay, Master." She bows again and briskfully walk back to Y/N wing.
"Are you not going to... visit her Sir?" His male right hand asks. "She have been messaging you since..." he pauses for a bit. "And calling too."
He didn't answer. "Ready my bath please." He orders and just continue walking his way to his room.
"Understood." The man replies
"She can't see me like this." Yoongi mumbles as he walks
"I see..." his right hand man smiles at his master's response.
"Why are you smiling?" Yoongi asks, one eyebrow up.
"Nothing, Sir."
"Just spit it out."
The right man, Mr. Kim have been Yoongi's right hand man ever since he was in his teens. Mr. Kim saw him grew up and be the man that he is now. And for sure, if something changed he would be the first one to notice
And now, the tiny changes in Yoongi's mood and decisions, He might not know or see it but it is obvious for Mr. Kim. He knows it is something about his wife.
"2nd week of your marriage, Sir. She saw you coming home with a bloody lip and injured knuckles. You said you don't give a damn if she sees you looking like a murderer."
"So? What's your point?"
"It's just lately...."
Yoongi pauses and turns around to see Mr. Kim, wearing a smile.
"What are you implying? Just... say it."
Mr. Kim bows and says, "Nothing Sir."
"Hmmm..." rolling his eyes, he continued to walk.
*****
"Miss..." your personal maid rushes in your room, "Master have return." She says.
To her suprise, she sees you standing in the middle of the room, wearing your bathrobe and a towel in your hair already.
You take a deep breathe, not letting your eyes look away from the view you are seeing from your window, a clear blue sky.
"Miss.. shall I prepare your clothes?"
You close your eyes and then removed the towel wrapped around your long hair. "Please..." you softly answer
"What do you prefer to wear today, Miss?" She asks she she begins to walk towards your walk in closet.
"A black dress..." you say as you follow along. "Maybe the one with the longer sleeves."
She nods and then continues to search for the dresses you have that matches your description while you on the other hand looks at yourself in the full length mirror while you undress from your robe.
You stare at your body and see how you thin you are. Not super thin but thinner than what you used to.
It's your own fault. You have been skipping meals when you are stressed and it's not good.
"Miss?" She then lays three dresses on the sofa in the middle, for your choices.
"The middle one." You says.
You then open the drawer for your undies to grab a black lace matching underwear.
"Ahm, Miss...?"
"Yes?"
"Are you going to eat with Master, in the dinning today?"
"Hmm... what did he say?"
"Nothing. He just asked me to stay with you when I told him you are in your bath."
"Did he say if he wants to see me?"
The maid didn't answer.
"I guess not." You scoff as you getting into the dress. "Just bring my food in my study room. I'll eat there while I do some reading."
"Understood." She bows and exists the room.
"I'm not gonna wait for him anymore." You say to yourself while looking onto the mirror. "If he's going to avoid me or ignore me... then... that's what I'll do as well..."
Starring once again at yourself on the mirror, you look at your face and then your eyes goes down to your belly.
"I have to learn to go on with my life... with or without him..." you mumble. "I should start to escape this fantasy... a dream that maybe the 'us' will be something."
Part 3 - Twilight
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Creator Spotlight: @jijidraws
Jiji Knight is a latina pinup illustrator. Her work is overall geared toward thick ladies and dedicated to fat positivity out of a purely selfish need to create art she wished she had seen growing up. She often features sexy and soft macabre themes on vibrant or sweet colours and takes great joy in making folx feel good about themselves with her work. She holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration and operates out of her very sunny hometown of Las Vegas.
Check out our interview with Jiji below!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
Oh my gosh… I have art blocks all the time. My favorite way of overcoming it is by making fanart. Funnily enough, that’s something I don’t do in my own work anymore. But there are still IPs I return to that still bring joy to my heart. I love returning to drawing Sailor Moon like when I was in first grade. Or I’ll even look up the last fashion week and start drawing the fashion week outfits from the Paris or New York show. Stuff like that is what gets my creative juices flowing.
What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
Resin. Resin art is so stunning. People make the most amazing and beautiful sculptures using resin, and I don’t think I could ever bring myself to play with something so complicated. There are a lot of ways to cure it, and sometimes, it doesn’t cure properly…I already work with enough chaos as it is! I respect resin artists, but I don’t think I would ever touch it. I’ve admired it from a distance. There is an artist I follow who does these resin layer paintings. So they’ll paint a layer of resin, then cure it, and paint on top of the cured layer. They build up these amazing paintings using resin…I could never. Maybe one day!
What is one interaction you had with a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?
I still remember…It was my first and only Flame Con in New York. I had a fan come up to my booth. They didn’t say hello or that it was nice to meet me. They started to cry! They cried, and the first words out of their mouth were, “I’ve never seen myself in artwork before.” So, of course, I started to cry! So we were just crying across the table at each other. It was just one of the sweetest interactions, and it really sticks with me still to this day.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
My latest collaboration with the artist Missupacey. We’ve been collaborating for two years now, and our last collaboration was for Midsummer Scream. It was two very cute clown girls, and I designed our T-shirt. It was one of the most fun projects we’ve done in a long time. We love doing collaborative work because it keeps working in the art industry fresh—being able to bounce ideas back and forth. So we do it where someone picks the color palette, and someone picks a theme. We’ll get references together, put them on a big board, and send each other sketches. It’s really nice to work with somebody else.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
Honestly, it changed everything. I mean, I used to draw for myself a lot. And while I still do that, I now predominantly draw for my Patrons. For a while, I was drawing for the internet. So I was drawing stuff people wanted to see in terms of plus-sized versions of characters—a plus-sized Poison Ivy or a plus-sized Sailor Moon. My Patrons have allowed me to start drawing for myself again. But technology, for a while, essentially dominated what direction I was taking with my art, so I’m grateful to take some of that power back.
If there is one thing that you want art enthusiasts to remember you by, what would it be?
Body positivity. I would love for them to remember that there is an artist making work that is making people feel good about themselves and about the way they look at themselves.
Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?
Have a method of taking money, have a method of displaying your work, and have a way to take a break. I have a plastic picnic cover that costs like a dollar at any store. All I have to do is clip it to my display grates, and it covers up my entire display. I feel secure enough to take time for myself in a 10-hour workday to eat something, go to the restroom, or even take a moment to breathe and reorganize my inventory. So it’s so funny that this one-dollar piece of plastic is like the most life-saving item in my display of items.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@mayakern comes to mind. She is another body-positive artist who expanded into making body-positive clothing. She’s amazing, and just to see someone else out there promoting body positivity. Maya’s been doing it longer than I have, I believe. It feels good to know that I’m not alone. Her work is always stunning, and I love her body-positive DnD characters and the fact that she’s still plowing through the clothing industry. For example, she’s expanded from skirts to button-downs and even custom-wrap shirts. I love to see what she’s doing, and it inspires me to pursue different avenues with my own work.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Jiji! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jijidraws.
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hazbinwhoree · 3 months
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can you write a AdamxReader where the reader is a demon who works for val?
With a little smut beginning but the reader gets a trauma response? and Adam comforting them and reassuring them that he isn’t mad that they needed to stop and comforting that he isn’t just after sex with them! (sorry if I wrote this weird idk how to write my IDEAS)
PTSD
A/N: TW for implied sexual assault
(Name) and Adam had been in a secret relationship for a few months now. Secret, seeing as he was an angel and she was a demon. But they made it work.
(Name) worked for Val, or rather, her soul was owned by Val, and she’d met Adam when the Vee’s had a meeting with him. Vox wanted to strike a deal where Adam would kill Alastor during the next extermination.
Val noticed Adam eyeing (Name) and offered her as compensation if Adam could get the job done. Adam looked rather taken aback at such an offer, deals as shady as this were not made in Heaven, and said he’d think about it.
Val said he could have (Name) for an hour to think about it. Adam knew exactly what he meant by that, and it made him a little nauseous. Still, he was left alone with her.
Her, who stared at him in fear, looking like an animal backed into a corner.
“I’m… I’m not going to do anything to you.”
And they spent the hour just talking. When the Vee’s came back, Adam stated his new terms. “I’ll kill Alastor for (Name)’s soul to be released to me.”
Val looked angry and adamantly opposed to the idea, but Vox quickly agreed.
In the months before the next extermination, (Name) and Adam would visit one another on the rare occasions (Name) was able to get away from Val. They’d been together for about four months now, and it was the longest Adam had gone without sex in a minute.
They never went any further than making out, and Adam was okay with moving at (Name)’s pace. He liked her that much.
It was about a month before the extermination and they were making out on the couch in (Name)’s home when she felt his erection against her thigh. Feeling bold, she grinded down in his lap and he groaned. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned, voice gravelly.
(Name) grinned and grinded down again. Adam bit his lip. He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, moving down to suck on her neck. (Name) sighed contently. One of Adam’s hands snuck up her shirt, groping her chest.
(Name) was enjoying herself, ready to finally go further with Adam as she’d wanted to for months, but then he reconnected their lips and placed a hand on her neck. He didn’t squeeze or anything, but the action caused the reaction that had kept (Name) from acting on her desires for so long.
The hand at her neck, tongue invading her mouth, and erection against her crotch suddenly didn’t belong to Adam as nightmarish flashes of Val and clients played in her head. She pushed against Adam’s chest hard, launching herself off his lap. She fell to the floor and began scrambling backwards, and Adam didn’t know what just happened.
“Fuck, (Name)?”
Adam stood from the couch and (Name) raised her arms above her head like he was going to strike her. Adam was concerned and put his hands up in a disarming gesture. “(Name), it’s me.”
Recognition flashed in (Name)’s wild eyes. “Adam, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know I initiated and it isn’t fair that I stopped–” Adam cut her off. “Isn’t fair? (Name), you can always say no. I’m sorry I scared you. I shouldn’t have gone so fast.”
“No, I wanted it,” (Name) insisted. “But then… I don’t know. I got triggered I guess.”
Adam carefully approached her, crouching down in front of her. “Because of Val?” he asked quietly. (Name) nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek.
“One more month,” Adam promised. “One more month and you’ll be free. He’ll never hurt you again.”
“But… I won’t be free. You’ll own my soul. Oh god… was that your plan the whole time? Do you just want me for sex?”
Adam shook his head vehemently. “No, babe, of course not. I don’t plan on keeping your soul, I’m going to free you. Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s against like, a fuck ton of rules for an angel to own another soul.”
“Fuck,” (Name) buried her face in her hands. “Of course. I’m so sorry I accused you–” “Hey.”
Adam carefully reached out, taking her hands in his. They were so small in comparison. “Look at me.”
(Name) did, blinking at him through tears.
“I’m not using you for sex, but you have every right to be suspicious. I’m not offended. You’ve been used by everyone in your life and I don’t expect you to trust me at my word that I’m different. I’ll have to prove it to you, and I’m more than fucking fine with that.”
(Name) sobbed, throwing herself into Adam. He caught her and fell on his ass, and they sat there like that for a good five minutes, embracing. Adam’s wings wrapped around them.
“Thank you,” (Name) cried. Adam shook his head. “Don’t thank me for treating you like a person.”
Finally, (Name) calmed down, climbing out of Adam’s lap.
“Fuck,” Adam said, back to himself. “Are the waterworks done? You pussy.” (Name) sniffed and smiled.
There was the Adam she knew best.
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factual-fantasy · 1 year
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Ah yes, the old King Kong himself! I didn’t actually think I was going to add him and Diddy to my AU because I wasn’t sure how they’d fit.. But after brainstorming with a friend, we found a way! XD
I tried to put a lot of thought into DK and Diddy’s designs. Everything was intentional. Diddy and DK’s ENORMOUS size, DKs long fur, the red and blue tones in their fur, DK having long claws while Diddy does not, Diddy’s clothing choice, EVERYTHING! I tried my best to think it all through.
If ya wanna read about their lore and why they look the way the do, I have a ramble below the keep reading just for you! :D
Ahem,
SO
Off the coast of Daisy’s kingdom is this big island that can be seen from the shore. Daisy sent some of her Delfino people to go explore it but they never returned.. so she sent a rescue team after them, but they disappeared too.
Desperate, she turned to Mario and Luigi for help. Now, Mario and Luigi have just proved their strength and heroism by defeating Bowser. And they ALSO have a pet Yoshi. If anyone can go to that seemingly dangerous island and return? Its them.
Daisy approached them with an offer. You go use your magical powers and find out what happened to my missing people, and I’ll give you whatever you want. They agreed and made their way over...
Only to find destroyed campsites, boats torn apart... and bodies. Bodies everywhere. 
Turns out this island is home to these enormous ape like animals. And they attacked the Delfino’s because they were loud, setting fires, chopping down trees, taking their food, etc. When they encountered the King himself, Yoshi was utterly terrified. He knew he was outmatched. There was absolutely no way he could protect the Mario brothers from this thing. So he just slowly pulled Mario and Luigi to the ground and cowered in fear. Trying to make them all look as non confrontational as possible.
Thankfully their petrified faces and absolute silence labeled them as a non-threat. And the situation was defused. Loads of shenanigan's later and they waved goodbye to Donkey, Diddy and all the other monkey creatures and returned to Daisy with the gruesome news..
Their reward? They just wanted enough food to fill Yoshi’s belly. Poor guy probably burnt all the calories he had trying not pass out back there.
Now the design lore! :D
On this island, there are these really powerful fruits and veggies that have super star power in them, just like Yoshi’s island. Only these ones work a little differently..
There are two main super foods on this island. The giant red beet type veggies that grow deep in the ground. And the big blue fruits that grow in the trees.
The big red beets are really bitter and tough like rocks. But anyone who eats them will begin to grow in size. The gorilla like animals on this island will use their claws to dig them up and use their iron jaws to crack them open and eat them. That’s why Donkey Kong is red. 75% of his diet consists of these bitter, giant red super beets that make him grow to be giant.
Meanwhile Diddy, and all the other Monkey like animals.. they cant dig for these beets. And their jaws are not strong enough to crack them open. Plus the beets are really bitter.. SO, they prefer to climb into the trees and eat the sweet blue fruits that grow at the very top.
These sweet fruits are also powerful in nature, but instead of making you stronger, they encourage brain growth. So all the monkeys that eat this super sweet brain fruit, will just get really smart and their fur will turn more blue.
The two species almost had a war between them. But they quickly discovered they’re better off together. The gorillas can protect the monkeys from threats, while the Monkeys use their intelligence to make tools and shelter.
This peace is further solidified by Donkey Kong and Diddy Kong's friendship. Diddy being the smartest monkey and DK being the strongest Gorilla.
All in all this island is rather peaceful at its core. But in the end its still full of wild animals. And is considered more dangerous than Yoshi’s island. To this day no one has ever returned to DK’s island. Although DK and Diddy would happily welcome the Mario Brothers back with open arms if they ever decided to visit.
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sawbiter · 3 months
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a field of geranium - yuuji itadori
--
summary ! you and itadori have been together since middle school. when he randomly breaks up with you and disappears from school, you're left heartbroken and completely alone.
warnings / tags ! angst to fluff , exes to lovers , non-sorcerer reader, hopeful ending! implied fem reader, written with a poc reader in mind (skin tone and race unspecified!), past bullying, yuuji is lowkey dumb, reader is stated to be intelligent, lonely reader .. lots of angst. probably not very canon accurate to how curses work but shush.. reader curses a lot lol.
a/n ! hope you guys like this! i loveee yuuji sm .. this probably isnt good i haven't written in a while ;;
--
you remember a time when it felt like yuuji would always be around.
when he would kiss your forehead before classes and during lunch, hold your hand as he walked you to class and write you childish love notes during maths.
you never expected him to break up with you, let alone over text. you'd planned on confronting him at school after he had repeatedly dodged your frantic calls, but when you entered the school, yuuji didn't go there anymore.
it stung. yuuji had been your best friend since middle school, defending you from the bullies who'd pick on you for various things that'd later become insecurities of yours. (sometimes you wonder if those things are why yuuji left.)
going back to eating alone in the single stall bathrooms and having nobody to talk to during passing periods was a hard transition. your parents weren't any help either, telling you that high school relationships never lasted.
(you can't bring yourself to throw away the promise ring he gave you.)
you see him out one day, with a pretty brunette girl, carrying shopping bags for her. you go up to him; he's clearly moved on. (you can understand why. she's gorgeous.) he doesn't seem to notice you.
--
you're sitting alone the class garden for your botanicals class. you remember a time this was your favourite class (it was one with yuuji; go figure.)
now it's filled with bittersweet memories and the grief over someone you know isn't dead.
you're calm as a boy you've never seen before approaches you. your hands are gloved and your hair is a bit messy as you look up at him.
“be careful around here, please. it's class policy not to walk on the soil.” you scold a bit, his boots having crushed one of the plants.
he looks down at you, his face a bit stoic, “sorry.”
“it's alright- did you need something?” you smile at him politely.
he snaps his fingers, frowns a bit, then says “nope,” and walks off.
you'd never seen him before. he didn't even have the right uniform on.
--
“i cannot believe you just made me do that.” megumi rolls his eyes.
yuuji frowns a bit, “i'm sorry but- i can't go up to her.” megumi rolls his eyes as nobara fumes a bit.
“you broke up with her over text. no wonder no girls like you.” she snarks and yuuji just glares at her.
“i had just eaten sukuna's finger! i thought i was gonna die soon anyways!” he argues back,
“well then why haven't you tried to talk to her again? not that she should take you back- i pity the fact that she dated you at all.” nobara speaks as they walk away from the school.
“she probably has new friends anyways, plus she could get hurt, she's not a sorcerer.” yuuji says, his face looking almost like a kicked puppy.
nobara looks at him and raises an eyebrow, “didn't you say you were her only friend? that curse probably attached to her cause she's lonely.” she pops her gum after saying the last sentence.
“even more proof that me being around her is dangerous! plus- what if sukuna gets out around her while i sleep or something?!” he sighs, looking back and sneaking a peak at you in the botanical garden, “she's better off.”
megumi looks at him a bit, “i'm not surprised. you are the self sacrificing type after all.”
“i just think its rude to break up over text with no explanation, you guys were together for so long too.” nobara shrugs a bit.
“if i had spoken to her any more than that, i think i would've tried to stay.“ yuuji frowns.
--
two weeks after the boy approached you in class, your botany teacher dies in a freak accident, or at least that's what the police said. you aren't too sure.
ms. woods was a smart woman. you knew from the lunches you'd spend in her classroom to avoid bullies that she seriously loved plants.
so dying by ingesting a poisonous plant? out of character and frankly, insulting. you know that can't be the whole story.
that boy had something to do with it; it has to be. you look through your yearbooks after he had left; no sight of him. you go through all of your classes, all grades, you ask around. nothing. he didn't go to your school but he walked up to you during botany class and then two weeks later your teacher dies.
it can't be a coincidence. you go nearly crazy over it. you stay up multiple nights. you cry.
you remember when ms. woods called you smart, when she understood your grief over itadori and let you extend your onion cell project. you cry; something horrible happened to her, you just know it.
so, the night you stay in the school way too late studying poisonous plants in her room, you have a good excuse for why you see a huge monster in the hallway.
at first, you think you're seeing things from the sleep deprivation. you blink, rub your eyes and squint. it's still there.
“holy shit!” you jump out of your seat, going for the door to the garden before realizing they're locked, only able to be unlocked via a key- which you don't have.
the monster, a disgusting bipedal amalgamation of red roses, vegetables, cacti and other odd plants was slowly walking towards you.
“what the fuck.. oh my god- what the fuck?!” you shout, your hands shaking as you go to grab the nearest object to defend yourself as you press your body against the door. you grab a glass flask and hold it out as if it's at all a threat to the 8 foot creature in front of you.
the creature groans and you begin to tear up. this is it- you're about to die the same way ms. woods must have. nobody is going to mourn you besides your parents. you're going to die with people thinking you injested a poisonous fucking plant. you shut your eyes tight in preparation as it approaches.
it never does. you hear the creature use ms. woods' voice to cry out as someone attacks it. you peek to look.
its yuuji. and the girl from the mall. and the boy you thought killed ms. woods.
you gasp as they use all sorts of stuff against the thing and- are those bunnies?
“what.” is all you can gasp out as the brunette and the black haired boy run off, chasing the monster.
yuuji looks at you with his puppy dog eyes and you resist the urge to slap his stupid kissable face.
“yuuji, what the hell is going on.” you say, but it comes out as more of a statement than a question.
“i.. um..” he looks back at the two he came with who are now chasing the monster down the science hall, “that's the curse ms. woods left behind.. we're getting rid of it.”
“a curse? and- and you're fighting it?” you ask, puzzled.
“i promise i can explain but,” he pulls you into a tight, squeezing hug, “I was so worried. A special grade curse against you- I was terrified that we'd be too late. We didn't notice in time to get it before it tried to hurt you.”
“did it kill ms. woods?” you ask.
he shakes his head, “no- the grief from her death created that.” you gasp.
“I made that?” tears spill as the adrenaline settles.
“no!” yuuji pulls away a bit, looking at you put still holding onto you, “no. you didn't- it's not your fault. oh my god, it's not your fault- i love you please don't blame yourself!” he hurries to reassure you.
you sob into the crook of his neck, “yuuji- you.. why did you go? i was so lonely. it's been so hard.”
he can feel his heart break as he squeezes you once more in his embrace, “i'm sorry baby- i'm sorry.” yuuji soothes you, rubbing circles into your back, “i didn't want you to get hurt but- it happened anyways.”
after several minutes of silent comfort, you pull away, wiping your tears before giggling.
“where'd you get those face tattoos?” you sniffle and laugh.
yuuji laughs too.
“it's a long story.“
you smile, “tell me about it. i wanna hear.”
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darling-zain · 10 months
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✮ ↳ The Show Must Go On ↰
♡ yandere! actor x gn reader♡
tw/cw: slight obsession, nothing too detailed
authors notes: first work and i wrote this in one sitting...it's okay we're fine ♥ also i may have based him off of myself and i will probably do that with a lot of my ocs! my bad i'm just a theater kid who likes to write
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➼ yandere! Actor who first only knew you as one of the stagehands, always flitting back and forth behind the curtains.
➼ yandere! Actor who didn't even know your name until you got promoted to prop manager.
➼ yandere! Actor who never knew how every character that he played fell in love with someone at first glance, but as soon as you walked onto the stage and started giving out your orders, it was like the heavens had shone their light upon you and you only.
➼ yandere! Actor who was infatuated with everything about you. Your responsibility, your assured nature, the way you'd sternly correct him when he messed up his lines because he "should be reading off his script, not off my face".
➼ yandere! Actor who was always on top of his game, one of the best actors in his region, yet when you looked at him with your concentrated eyes it was like he was a rookie again.
➼ yandere! Actor who would be stuttering and tripping over his words on purpose just to get you to come up and read it with him, your warm body so close to his that he could almost taste the perfume you were wearing.
➼ yandere! Actor whose heart raced whenever you praised him, even a simple "good work today" would give him butterflies.
➼ yandere! Actor who knew that opening night was approaching, so he worked day and night to memorize his lines. The excited smile on your face when he was able to perform the whole dress rehearsal without flaw was something he'd never forget.
➼ yandere! Actor who, standing behind the curtain on the first day of their showing, suddenly started to shake. He's been in the industry so long that he forgot what it's like to have pre-show anxiety, and he doesn't even know how to deal with it. Suddenly, a warm hand is put on his shoulder.
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"You're shaking." You point out, turning him around to face you. "Why? Are you feeling alright?" You place the back of your hand on his forehead to feel his temperature. "You're not warm, so you're not sick..." You think about it for a second, looking him in the eyes with a warm smile. "Are you...nervous?"
Aurelian doesn't speak, instead, he just nods. He's ashamed of you having to see him like this, the Aurelian Yavuz, getting jitters right before the opening night of one of his most popular shows.
"Hey, look at me." Your voice is soft, yet commanding, forcing him to look into your assuring eyes. You place both your hands on his shoulders, gripping them firmly to help ground him.
"You've done this show countless times before, and we've read the script together so many times that it should be burned into your brain by now." He laughs slightly, a sign that your motivation is working.
"You're one of the best actors I've ever worked with, and one of the most dedicated as well. You've spent so many hours reading, fixing, and editing this performance so that it's just right and absolutely nothing could go wrong. Am I correct?"
He nods again, making you click your tongue.
"Use your words. Am I correct, yes or no?" Your firm tone makes it hard for him to disobey, especially when you look at him with those fierce eyes.
He gulps, taking a deep breath before responding.
"Yes, you're correct. I've done so much to make sure that this show is perfect, so I have no reason to be nervous." He stands up straighter and walks backstage, adjusting his costume in the mirror. "Plus, I know that you'll be watching, so everything will be okay~." He winks at you from the mirror, making you chuckle.
"Exactly. We behind the curtain will be making sure that everything goes smoothly, so all you have to do is go out there and do what you do best." The lights start to dim as the audience applauds. You pat him on the back and adjust his collar for him.
"The stage is yours, Auri." you nod at him as he takes a deep breath, walking out onto the large wooden stage to loud cheering. His voice booms through the stage, and soon enough, the show is over. The cast takes their final standing bow and walks back to their dressing rooms. Aurelius makes a beeline for the lighting booth where you are usually sitting; he bursts through the door backstage, only to find your seat empty.
"What...?" he looks around for any trace of you, but it's like you've disappeared. He takes a seat in your chair and waits for what seemed like hours to him because of how tired he was. 15 minutes after the show ends, he hears your voice from outside the door. he gets up to open the door, but as soon as he does, the door opens with a creak. There you are, standing in the doorway with a coffee in one hand and your bag in the other, looking up at him surprised.
"Auri, why haven't you changed? Everyone's already leaving, you should go too-"
"You weren't watching." He cuts you off, looking at you with cold, dead eyes.
You look at him confused, setting your bag down on the floor. "What are you-"
"Why weren't you watching?"
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mrswint3rs · 4 months
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Their Fav Positions (just my personal hcs)
genre: smut
pairings- Rude, Reno, Tseng, Rufus Shinra x Fem! reader (separate)
NSFW WARNING:
contains- multiple sex positions, shower sex, pussy eating, edging, overstimulation, a bit of man handling 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Rude the ‘stand and deliver’ position. He loves looking at your pleasured face, more than you know, but he gets self conscious about his own expressions. Rude prefers to keep his cool and collected demeanor. He gets embarrassed about being vocal so he tries to hold it back as much as possible, and with you bent over in front of him it makes it so you can’t see his scrunched up face as he stuffs you full. Holding your arms back to keep you standing when your knees start to give out from his hard and powerful thrusts. It gives him a sense of control, knowing that you need him to hold you. Knowing he makes you that weak. Plus, he just adores your ass. And once he gets really close to finishing, he tries to throw in a bit of dirty talk for you. His deep baritone of a voice coming out in a low growl, “Such a needy little thing, can’t even stand on your own.”
“That’s my girl, cum on my cock.”
“I’m not done with you yet. Stay with me, baby. Gonna fill you to the brim.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Reno isn’t particularly picky, but he loves starting by eating you out. He can’t explain why it gets him going so much, but it does every time without fail. Hearing your pretty whines and cries as he messily smacks and slurps up your drooling pussy. The way your thighs clench around his head, hand tangled in his red locks. The taste of you alone makes him feel feral. His arousal unbearable and seeking release, he can’t keep his hands off. Slowly fucking into his palm while his tongue explores every fold and corner of your cunt. It doesn’t take long for him to get close, the way you writhe and squirm. But he feels a need for you to finish together as one. Quickly rising to your level, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder and turning you on your side. It gives the perfect angle for both of you. Bullying his cock into your depths he whimpers and groans like he’s losing himself. Your walls flutter against him as you start to reach climax. But then he stops, right before you’re about to burst.
“hold it. just a bit longer.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Tseng ‘the upstanding citizen’ position. Especially in the shower. Hooking his arms under your thighs, pinning you up to the shower wall, your tits resting against his chest. He loves everything about this position. Especially being able to look into your eyes while he fucks you silly. It’s adorable the way you cling onto him when he plunges into your tight entrance, your bodies both drenched and dripping water.
“I was looking forward to this all day at work,” he breathes, leaning in towards your face. “i missed you.” his head cocks to the side so you don’t bump noses, his lips finding yours. it’s rare for tseng to actually say and do affectionate things like that, but when he’s feeling this good, he doesn’t care how vulnerable he’s being, his true feelings just spill out. His breathy moans fill your mouth, as well as his tongue as it tangles with yours. The kiss grows more and more sloppy and heated as he feels his climax rapidly approaching. Letting out a soft cry of pleasure when it hits, cum spurting deep inside you, he stuffs it in as much as he can. But he can’t keep up for long in his weaker state, setting you down so he doesn’t drop you. His seed spills down your thighs and onto the shower floor. Another reason he loves shower sex, easy clean up.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Rufus ‘the love seat’ position. With your back to his chest, you on his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed, he loves the control. He bounces you on his cock, repeatedly ramming into your cervix and groaning into the crook of your neck. Leaving love bites and kisses wherever he can reach. His arms wrapped around your waist, hand greedily rubbing at your clit regardless of you just cumming.
“C’mon, you can take it.” he coos.
“Be a good girl for me.”
“just endure, don’t cry sweetheart.”
He loves the way you tremble and squirm in his grasp, his overstimulation unwavering. He wouldn’t stop until you begged him to. Until you absolutely couldn’t take it anymore. He was aware of your limitations and wouldn’t disrespect you by exceeding them. Though he struggled to express it, he loved you far too much to do that.
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