#Please no one ask where Ram is though. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skiiyoomin · 4 months ago

Note

Can you make Kenma,Oikawa, Hinata, Sugawara, Nishinoya, Akaashi with a sub! Girlfriend that has a personality that remembers a Golden Retriever?? (Can it be NSFW?)

ღHq boys with a sub!golden retriever gf

ʚft: Kenma, Oikawa, Hinata, Suga, Nishinoya, Akaashi

ʚCont: SMUT CONTENT, fem!reader, fingering, slight corruption kink, mirror sex, use of good girl, riding, oral sex

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a/n i think i outdid myself with this one 😁

Kenma

There is a clear difference between your personalities. He´s passive and calm whereas you´re always a bundle of energy. Many joke you have all the energy Kenma doesn't. And that fact proves right in moments like these.

He was slumped on the couch when you skipped into the living room. Your eyes darted to his hands holding the controller. His long fingers were moving across the buttons with a speed only a chronic video game player had. A flash of thoughts that were anything but holy crossed your mind. They were pushed back almost immediately.

They were hard to ignore now that those same fingers were pumping up into your dripping cunt. Your hips moved on their own, rolling instinctively to find the same spot that had your head throwing back with whiny moans. The clutch your fisted hands had on his shirt tightened when you bounced on his fingers, riding them like you would with his cock. "ken mmgh fuck m´ tired" He wasn´t sure if his actions were out of sympathy or torture, but his free hand gripped your hip to stop their movement. His other hand, drenched in your juices, moved upwards at a fast pace, curling inwards to hit the plushness of your g-spot. "tired? already? well, I suppose I´ll help" Though he didn´t seem to mind with how hard he was in that moment, his erection begging to be freed from its restraints. The fast pace of his fingers brought your orgasm closer than you thought. Your mind blanked, body shaking as your walls clamped down on his fingers, imprisoning them inside your warmth.

His lips on your face landed you back from cloud 9. "such a good girl, wanna keep doing a good job for me and make me feel good?" He murmurs against your skin, to which you nod without hesitation.

Oikawa

Oikawa absolutely adoresss you. You´re his little puppy, his sweet innocent baby girl. He dies and revives every single time your doe eyes stare up at him with those bright irises. They shoot straight to his heart, tightening in his chest to the point where his breath is lost in the air. He doesn´t know what he´d do without his pretty girl. He could spend countless hours naming all the things he loves about you. But he was certain that what he loves most, is your willingness to please him. Like a puppy does with its owner.

Deep down, it isn´t just for the simple innocent reasons one may imagine. Your willingness to please applies to the bedroom too. And there was nothing that turns him on more than to have you on all fours, ramming his cock into your abused hole for hours on end.

Tears were falling down your pretty eyes, your back setting into a mean arch the longer you stayed in that position. Even then, your breathy shaky voice asked "m´ i making you feel good?" Call it a possible corruption kink, but seeing your head lifting to meet his gaze from the back with those teary doe eyes, your lips pouty as you concern yourself more over his pleasure than your own, god that just makes his dick harder than ever.

If anything, it keeps his cock pounding into you relentlessly, forcing orgasm after orgasm from you, all just to see you with that same look in your eyes. Yeah, he definitely has a corruption kink.

Hinata

You´re both bundles of sunshine. Your relationship is as radiant as the sun, a constant source of joy in each others lives. You´re both the same golden retriever energy and anyone can see that from a 20 mile radius. In terms of dominance, well, it´s hard to say. Or at least, that´s how it is for anyone outside the relationship. However between you two? It´s pretty clear.

The sight in front of you is sinful really. No porno you had ever watched was as erotic as this. Hinata is sitting on the edge of the bed with you sitting snuggly on his lap, your back pressed against his toned chest. You´re convinced you´d have bruises on your hips the next morning from how tight he was gripping them. Though your focus in that moment is on the dirty view from the mirror of your tight hole getting stretched open by his thick cock. While Hinata is setting the pace and keeping you balanced, you´re tasked to hold your legs wide open with your hands under your knees, giving you the perfect view of his cock connecting with your cunt.

As much as you wanted to throw your head back on his shoulder from the painful pleasure, you couldn´t look away from the sight. The way your puffy lips parted in an accomodating motion for his dick to pound up into you relentlessly is an addicting sight you can´t get enough of. The fast pace is dizzying along with the view of his fluids mixing with yours and coating his cock like a second skin. His pace sped up even more, though you hadn´t thought that was possible, when your impending orgasm resulted in the clenching of your gummy walls. "hold on f´me sweet girl, can you do that?" He asks sweetly into your ear despite the vicious pace of his tip kissing your cervix. "mhmm" Is all you can manage to say. "good girl"

Sugawara

Suga is often seen as the sweet calm boyfriend whereas you´re the energetic girlfriend whose always bouncing around with energy. It´s a balance that makes the relationship work very well. But what nobody expects is the 180 Suga does in bed.

A foot is balanced on his shoulder, his hands wrapped around the plushness of the back of your thighs. Suga loves this more than anything else. When your body goes limp from the pleasure, reducing all that energetic behaviour that you had before to nothing. You never resist him, no, instead you encourage him to keep going. To keep stretching your body into positions you didn´t think were possible. To keep your walls continuously stroking his cock, pulling countless orgasms out of you until you had nothing left to give. And even then, you keep your legs spread wide open like the good little thing that you are.

He groans into your ear "fuck. You like that? like how good my cock is making you feel?" He growls into your ear. One hand moves to rub your swollen clit, intensifying the pleasure. The result of your moans urged his ruthless pace to quicken. He chuckles breathlessly. "can´t even speak. am I fucking my baby dumb? Is that it?" The mocking tone of his voice was far more arousing than you thought and he knew it. How could he not when your walls were clenching so tightly around his aching member?

"wanna loosen up for me baby girl? I can´t make you cum if you´re squeezin so tight" He smirks "Yeaah that´s it, good fucking girl" He says in that low raspy voice you love so much. You´re in for a looong night.

Nishinoya

You´re both equally energetic. His energy rubs off on you and yours rubs off on him. You two together is utter chaos in the best way possible. Though when it comes to dominance, Noya is always sure to prove he´s the dominant one. Not like you mind anyway.

It´s movie night and of course, one thing leads to another. Now you´re on Noyas lap with his cock fucking up into you. If this isn´t heaven, Noya wasn´t sure what is. You´re always so eager to take him, to be fucked into submission. He groans lowly when you squeeze particularly hard. His eyes trail from your pussy to the swell of your breasts that bounce every time he thrusts up into you, his grip on your hips controlling the pace. The sight is so enticing, so breath taking that he can´t resist getting a taste. His mouth latches onto oneperky nipple while his fingers play with the other, giving them equal attention.

"aaah ngh noya" You moan, the sounds like music to his ears. His mouth latches off your breasts with a pop. "hmm? is my baby girl feeling good?" You whine, trying to speed up the pace. His gaze darkens with a primal lust. His feet plant on the floor and with a sudden boost of energy, he fucks your hole with a roughness he had never used before. He has no time to worry if he´s being too rough, becuase you´re instantly arching your back into a mean curve and throwing your head back. It´s overwhelming, the intense pleasure, the throbbing of your cunt the more he keeps his cock inside you.

A loud smack resonantes across the room, a gasp following it afterwards. The sting from his slap on your ass strangely adds to the pleasure, making your cunt throb more. He seems to sense this as well because he does it again and again. By the end of that night, the skin of your ass was a painful tomato red. Though you can´t stay mad at him when he fucks you so good.

Akaashi

Akaashi seems to attract the most energetic people ever. First it was Bokuto, now it´s you. He doesn´t complain one bit though. He adores you so much and makes you feel so loved too. He especially loves showing his love for you through intimate acts. It´s too tempting for him after all. When you´re always so greedy to please him and make him happy. Or especially when you´re so submissive for him. You trust him blindly and know he takes good care of you and nothing can ever make him more turned on than that.

Like now, he´s laying on his stomach on the bed. The thickness of your thighs are wrapped around his head, pulling him closer to your aching core. This was the thing he loves most. Worshipping your body over and over like you´re a goddess and he´s your most faithful worshipper. A shiver crawls down your spine when his warm breath tickles your bare skin, coming in contact with your heat. You gasp when his warm tongue slips out and licks along your slit until it hooks on your clit. Akaashi is a patient man, but even his own patience wears thin under the temptation of ravishing you whole.

He wastes no time in wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking the bundle gently while slipping a finger inside. One finger turns into two, then three. Soon enough his fingers are thrusting into you while he continues to busy his mouth with your clit. It´s not long before your body shakes from the force of a mind blowing orgasm.

He doesn´t wait a single second. Your legs are forced to spread open, giving him space to slip his tongue into your sensitive hole. You whine and squirm from the overstimulation. "aaah kashi" Said man lifts his head up, your juices smeared all over his chin and lips. They press wet kisses to your inner thighs while looking up at your flushed face. "you know the safe word, don´t you darling?" You nod meekly under his intense gaze. He smirks "good" Is all he says before going back to fucking your throbbing hole like a starved man having his last meal on earth.

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huexuri · 7 months ago

Text

⚠︎ be patient ⋆ c.yj // c.bg

NSFW, MDNI!!

—– your boyfriend yeonjun had brought you to tag along to a hang out with his friends. what he didn't know was that once you were in beomgyu's plane of sight, his gaze would be on you for the entire time you were here. so, you and your boyfriend saw this as a opportunity to let him in on the fun.

warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, cuckolding, exhibitionism kink, voyeurism kink, threesome, bf!yeonjun, dom!yeonjun, sub!gyu, sub!reader, they're sharing you(?), finger sucking, choking, slight nipple play, degradation, praise, size kink, overstim, cum denial, face fucking, fingering, creampie, cum eating, not implied that reader takes the pill (but they do!), no protection (wear protection guys), mentions of ot5

wc: 5.2k please bare with me

note: this is FINALLY DONE YALLLLL. thank u anons for such great ideas!! but this also had no reason to be so smut packed.. i hide my face in shame. this was also not proofread so like

ever since yeonjun told his friends about you, they've been so awfully up in his face about you, asking when they can finally see you, how you look, etc…

so when another one of their little hangouts were relevant again, yeonjun and his friends took this as an opportunity for him to bring you along, and them to meet you.

you never wanted to attend this party, but yeonjun kept begging you to come with him. he was eager for you to meet his friends, who went by beomgyu, soobin, kai and taehyun.

"please, just go with me? it's only kai, beomgyu, they all. they've been dying to meet you! they always ask if i actually have a girlfriend, especially beomgyu, for some reason. juuuust do me this favor, please? i've shown you pictures before!" yeonjun pleaded, his eyes wide and innocent, lips the poutiest you've ever seen.

reluctantly, you agreed, unable to resist that look. "fine, i'll go. just don't be all freaky in front of them," you sighed, and yeonjun's face lit up in ecstasy.

throwing on some cargos and a graphic tee, the both of you head to kai's house to meet up with the rest of them.

as you and yeonjun arrived at kai's house, you were struck by its grandeur and spaciousness. yeonjun seems to come here more than the others do — he knows this place like the back of his hand, because immediately he's ramming through halls and knows exactly where everyone else is.

the both of you walk into the living room and you're met by all four of jun's friends. all of them were relatively attractive. they were quite friendly too. well�� kai and taehyun wave at you, soobin smiles at you and yeonjun, but beomgyu's gaze.. no words or smiles escaping his mouth, just his lazy eyes following you sternly as yeonjun led you to sit on one of the cushions, right next to him who was next to taehyun. even though you felt slightly awkward with beomgyu's gaze, you still said hi to all of them. you felt out of place in some sort, like you're not supposed to be here.

“this your girl?” taehyun nudged yeonjun playfully as he sat down, and you followed suit. yeonjun is giggly with him, telling him to stop teasing him.

taehyun's eyes diverted to you and he'd wave, introducing himself, then the others.

“hi! i'm taehyun. um,” he points to the other guy beside him. “this is kai, and the two across that's soobin and that's beomgyu.” kai nods at you and soobin also waves. you wave back at everyone including beomgyu who was silent since you stepped in.

“uh, hi guys. i'm y/n, it's great to see y'all.” you awkwardly said with a smile, looking up at yeonjun beside you every two seconds for reassurance.

“we know, he talks about you like everyday.” beomgyu finally decides to speak up, with a bit of cockiness in his voice too. his voice seems to be more relaxed and deeper than the others.

“ah, haha. that's great..!” you look at jun with an embarrassed smile and he scoffs playfully, pecking you on the crown of your head as your head drops onto his shoulder.

“get me the console,” yeonjun asks kai and he gives it to him.

the next hour it was basically them playing videogames that you knew nothing about. you wanted nothing more than to do something interesting since you were basically on your phone the entire time, and at one point you went and sat on your boyfriend's lap for comfort.

once in a while, you'd catch beomgyu staring at you as he loses focus on the game. he'd immediately look back up when he gets caught. you don't know what this beomgyu guy has against you, but it doesn't seem good.

“jjunie,” you ask him mid game, and he puts down the console.

“yeah, baby?”

“can you bring me to the toilet?”

“yeah,” yeonjun stands up, informs everyone that he's bringing you to the washroom and as expected, beomgyu's gaze subtly follows as you walk to wherever yeonjun brought you.

when you reach the bathroom, you drag him in with you.

“jun,”

“yes? why am i here? what's wrong? do you wanna leave or… are you okay?” yeonjun immediately bombards you with concern and you brush it off.

“no, no. listen. i don't know what's up with that beomgyu guy? he's been looking at us everywhere we go. i caught him looking at me and you like a few times mid game. i didn't see him smile once today. am i bothering him?” you ramble on, and jun's eyebrows furrow.

“huh.. he doesn't seem to have a problem with us tho.” your boyfriend states, and you sigh.

“could you try figure out what's wrong? i'm not weirded out or uncomfortable or anything, i just don't want him to hate me. i don't know who he is until today.”

“yeah, i will for you baby.” yeonjun reassures you and cups your cheek to kiss you. “wanna go back now?”

“yeah, let's go.” you insisted, and the both of you walked out, and towards the living room where everyone was.

you could see beomgyu acting goofy and giggling his heart out before you came into his view. once you did though, you noticed that his smile died down so quickly when his gaze latched onto yours. you sigh, not knowing what kind of stupid beef he has with you. but deciding to ignore thst for the meantime, you sit back on yeonjun's lap.

at this point it's been over an hour of them just playing games and you've grown seriously bored, but too scared to speak up.

beomgyu puts down the console as the others were also starting to become quiet since the mood would start to die down. it felt like everyone else were also tired of playing.

beomgyu notices your expression, lazily lying against yeonjun's shoulder as you browse on instagram for the 10th time now. he's also noticed you've become quiet.

“hey guys, do we still wanna play? i feel like it's getting boring,” beomgyu suddenly speaks up, and everyone's heads snap at him in interest. even your head perks up from your phone at that suggestion, and beomgyu's eyes are on you again, a smirk growing on his face when he's got your attention.

“honestly? yeah, let's do something else.” taehyun puts the console down, then the others follow suit, some picking up a glass of soju.

“let's play truth or dare!” beomgyu immediately suggests, sitting up from his original position to fix his posture.

your eyes light up as you put down your device, finally having something else but your phone to occupy you.

you thought that beomgyu suggested doing something else because he saw how bored you were. but it didn't make shit sense to you how one moment he's looking at you like he doesn't want you to be there, but the other he's helping you feel comfortable.

“sounds interesting!” you claimed.

yeonjun sees your interested expression and immediately agrees, so the rest start nodding in agreement.

all of you gather on the fluffy rug at the center of the living room, with an empty soju bottle in the middle.

“the flat end is the one who asks, the head is the victim. whoever doesn't do the question has to take a shot!” beomgyu looks at everyone for agreement.

as everyone nodded and cheered, he spun the bottle, the flat end landing on your boyfriend and the head landing on beomgyu.

yeonjun's eyes flickered at you knowingly before asking beomgyu.

“truth or dare?” yeonjun asked.

“truth,” beomgyu replied almost in an instant.

“why have you been so quiet since we came in today?” yeonjun points at you, then back at himself.

“have i?” gyu's gaze shoots straight at yours, he gulps, then laughs it off awkwardly. “i don't know, i just didn't expect..” beomgyu looks at you again. “HER to be your girlfriend. i mean, she's really pretty and seems nice, i hope you treat her well.” he continues.

“are you saying she's out of my league?” yeonjun playfully scolds him. “of course i treat her well!” jun looks at you again, and you feel awkward.

“haha, guys, why's everyone looking at me? let's move on,” you desperately tried to move on. and with a few glances to each other, soobin reaches for the bottle to spin it.

it's been a few hours of the game. kai, soobin and taehyun would agree to go to the convenience store, then run some more errands after one last round, but when the both of you insisted to stay and wait, beomgyu also agreed to stay.

so, last round, taehyun spins the bottle.

the bottle spins, the flat end lands on taehyun, the head lands on you.

“truth or dare?” taehyun asks.

“dare!” you enthusiastically respond, trying to brush off some of the awkwardness lingering around the room.

the room fills with oooooo's and smirks all painted over each other's faces.

taehyun's eyebrows raise in slight amusement.

“i dare you to kiss your boyfriend in front of all of us!” he responded.

everyone's nudging yeonjun, smiling, pushing around and all eyes are on the both of you. but then, there's beomgyu, the odd one out, face completely nonchalant and unexpressive, gaze drilling right into yeonjun's.

you reach in closer to your boyfriend who's beside you, palm on his clothed pecs as you subtly feel him up and down. yeonjun's hand lightly tugs at the back of your head and grabs a light fistful of your hair. and like usual, the both of you lean in for a kiss.

his other hand travels up and down your back, caressing it. you embrace him as your lips are fighting against his, his plush lips so irresistible you just… it's impossible not to ruin them once you've gotten ahold of them.

beomgyu's gaze lingered on you and yeonjun throughout the kiss, and you swore you could hear him scoff in the midst of it.

“okay, okay. no need to get so into it, we're all still single here.” beomgyu cuts the both of you off, and you awkwardly leave yeonjun's embrace, lips detaching from his, ruining your gloss. but besides that, you're also embarrassed to find yourself.. very sat on his lap. as you try to get off, yeonjun lightly slams your hips back onto his lap and throws his arms around you from the back.

you shift a little on his lap for comfort, but that's when you notice yeonjun's hard-on growing beneath you. pretentiously, you pretend to shift again, and you could hear yeonjun suck in a breath through his teeth, glaring down at you as his cheeks grow hotter and redder than before.

“look at jun's lips, they're all swollen and ruined.” kai remarks as he giggles hysterically.

everyone's smiling at the both of you like little kids in awe. obviously, except the fish out the water; beomgyu, who glares at the both of you with a tinge of pettiness and jealousy.

“right, we're going to the convenience store 7, then do a bunch of other stuff, then come back. do y'all want anything?” soobin asks.

“want anything?” you look up at yeonjun as you “shift” in his lap again, and he stammers.

“r-right, uh … prawn crackers. our favorite.” yeonjun hastily says, and soobin nods.

the three of them prepare to head out the door and yeonjun excuses himself to the guest bedroom, claiming that there's a bathroom inside it.

but once he stands up, trying to hide his boner, he tugs at your wrist and drags you there as well — leaving beomgyu greeting the others all by himself.

but as the both of you left, beomgyu never took his eyes off of you.

yeonjun barely closes the door behind him.

“the fuck are you doing?—” you whisper, but you're silenced once he forcefully nudges you onto the bed, his dark eyes with a gaze that pierces through yours like a dagger.

“aren't you done teasing me?” yeonjun replies, running a finger up your useless baggy shirt. “we won't need this,” with a mischievous glint in his eyes, yeonjun bunched your shirt up to your neck, revealing your bra that's not even properly covering your breasts anymore.

as you feel his cold hands palm your warm breasts, pads of his fingers drawing little circles around your buds, you couldn't help but let out a few moans, goosebumps also flowing all over you as his hands felt freezing cold.

“my dirty girl. so fucking impatient..” yeonjun whispers. “you wanted this, didn't you?” he tugs at the waistband of your pants as he made his way down to your abdomen, hot breath fanning over your clothed core.

he pulls your cargos down to your feet then pushes it off the mattress, then he proceeds to push your panties towards one side, exposing your already soaking cunt.

“i-i don't think… we should do it here…” you remarked, but he immediately shushes you.

“why'd you grind against me when you noticed i was hard then?” yeonjun shoves a finger up you, and you suck in a breath you've tried to regulate, almost squirming under him.

“huh? answer me,” he taunts.

“it felt good..” you reply. “y-you felt good.” you mutter, and he shoves another up your cunt.

he takes his fingers out of you, dripping with your slick. “my god.. you're so fucking soaked.” he almost growls, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight of his two fingers coated in a layer of your wetness.

he quickly pulls down his sweats along with his boxers, and you're met with his girthy cock, springing out of his boxers like it's been begging to explode.

he lubricates his tip with your slick collected on his finger and his head is thrown back at the pleasure.

“fuuuuck..” he grunts, stroking his cock up and down as his eyes gazed at your pretty features.

still palming his cock, he fingers you with his other hand, thrusting in and out of you, curling up and prodding at your spongy spot as he milks a reaction out of you.

“fuck, jjunie. it's like you got bigger..” you moan at the sight of him fisting his length while his fingers disappear inside you whole.

while all this time, beomgyu is very aware of what's happening, hiding behind the slightly opened door as he listens to your business with yeonjun. he'd noticed that the both of you were taking a concerning lot of time, and he was bored out of his mind with nobody to talk to. that's when he hears moans and grunts the closer he is to approaching the guest bedroom, hands clasped over his mouth as he chimes in quietly to listen. hesitant to peek but he does anyway, standing so carefully behind the doorframe and grabbing it for support, just enough so he could see what was happening and that he wouldn't be visible.

“open,” yeonjun commands as he pulls his fingers out and hovers them dripping over your mouth.

you obey, sticking out your tongue to collect the droplets and you close your mouth in on his fingers, sucking them clean.

“fuck,, that's it, just like that. you take my fingers so fuckin’ well, princess…” he continues to prod at your tongue as he quickens his pace at fisting his cock. nothing arouses him more than the way you take his fingers down your throat like a good girl.

my god, that's hot. beomgyu's thoughts ring in his brain as he gets ahold of his clothed boner, attempting to stroke it through the fabric. lips so swollen cause his teeth haven't stopped digging into them the moment he'd seen you two touching each other.

“y'know, about the thing you said in the bathroom?" yeonjun mentions out of the blue. "i think beomgyu's jealous of us.” he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a pop.

“huh?” you say, still catching your breath.

“don't think i didn't notice how his eyes are all over you this entire day, especially on your boobs, you know.” yeonjun explains.

“that's why?” you mutter.

“that's why,” he pants as he lightly slaps your cunt with his tip. it took you so off guard.

“hh-mmf!—” you squirm, but yeonjun immediately stops you with a thumb over your lips.

“as i was saying, that's why, he's probably desperate to fuck your cunt like i am right now. i bet he's so awfully jealous that i've got you and your slutty pussy,” he slowly thrusts his tip in you, letting you bite on his thumb to restrain a moan. “—and he doesn't.” yeonjun finally thrusts his full length into you with a heavy sigh. your walls are stretching to fit his girth as he tries to thrust again.

“fuck—agh, t-too big,” you squeeze your eyes shut as your gummy walls barely manage to mould into the shape of his length, despite all the times he's fucked you. he picks up his pace, sloppily fucking into you with a rhythm, probably loud enough that beomgyu can hear.

“huh? you're mine, aren't you?” his hips are at work, making your breasts bounce with each meeting of your hips.

“y-yours,” you mutter as you suck on his thumb, probably wrinkled by how much you're basically latched on to it.

beomgyu had overheard the entire conversation, eyes wide open and he couldn't deny any of it. it was true that you were his exact type. slightly timid but admirable, with the looks every man would wish for. so imagine the jealousy that bubbles within him when his own best friend is dating a woman as perfect as you. why wasn't it him, on that bed, ruining that pretty pussy?

it was like in a blink of an eye that your ass was all up in yeonjun's face as he slams into you from behind, almost ripping you open due to his size, hands caressing you up and down your back to soothe you.

“so fucking dirty, couldn't even wait till we had privacy,” yeonjun snarled. “did you wanna be fucked in a bedroom that isn't ours? needed my cock so bad no matter where we were?” his voice so soft, yet so deep and condescending, it feels humiliating.

“mmmh,” you shake your head as you mumble with your panties stuffed in your mouth, drool seeping through the cotton, but yeonjun isn't satisfied with your answer.

“don't lie, y/n. didn't you tell me not to be freaky? what now?” he gives you a light slap on your thighs as he drills into you once more, each thrust feeling like a fire spark inside you.

“y-yes, jjun!” you barely manage to cry out — and you're grateful you're not being any louder. your cheek is pressed against the pillow so hard, you struggle to look up at him, even worse with your vision blurred out by those pathetic beads of tears that threaten to flow.

“that's it, that's my girl…” yeonjun rams his hips so deep into you, feeling it all the way up at your tummy when it's only begging to bust through your cervix.

his praise melts you inside, the praise you felt more than deserving of; but you might love his degrading words even more.

beomgyu hasn't stopped taking his eyes off of the both of you, from the start of the scene till' now. from you grinding against his lap ever so subtly in front of everybody to the present where yeonjun's ruining you from inside out. beomgyu desperately fists his clothed cock, upper teeth digging so deep into his lower lip at the sight of you arched all for yeonjun's access and the sound of those pretty broken moans and whines that you try your best to contain.

“huh? doesn't it turn you on to know that someone could be watching you like this, ass all up in my face like a slut?” yeonjun barely whispers.

“fuck, i wish.” you mutter loudly enough just so he could hear.

his lips turn up into a knowing grin as he looks straight back through the gap of the door. and there, his eyes meet beomgyu's.

“oh shit, fuck—” beomgyu mutters so softly it's impossible to not miss.

his eyes squeezed shut and his heart dropped. shame instantly washes over him and he hides the erection he was once palming, immediately turning away from the slightly opened door as his back hits the cold wall, chest rising up and down because he's terrified to look back in fear of the sight of yeonjun staring back at him, catching him in the act.

fuck, he knows.

“why don't we ask him to join us?” yeonjun smirks.

“w-wait, what?—” you reply, confused, face buried in your hands.

“beomgyu-ah! don't think i can't see you!~” yeonjun shouts out towards the direction of the door as he pounds you.

beomgyu's eyes slowly open as he turns back towards the door frame, and slowly, the door creaks open, and you're met with a flustered and ashamed beomgyu, hands all up in his cock and lips swollen so badly.

beomgyu gulps. “i‘m s-sorry,..”

your eyes widen as you see him standing at the doorway, but before you can even react, yeonjun calms you down by rubbing the small of your back.

“come in,” yeonjun orders, and beomgyu timidly steps in walking towards the both of you without a word spoken.“do you allow him to touch you?” yeonjun rubs your back comfortingly, as he looks at you with assurance.

it's a long silence before you decide to respond, but the both of them were completely patient with you. well, except that beomgyu looked pathetically clueless and guilty, trying his best not to glance at your dangling boobs.

“mhm,” you mumbled, nodding your head. how did yeonjun know this was one of your main turn ons? the excitement of someone potentially watching you so slutty makes you feel a rush of adrenaline flow all over you, and how you'd always wished there were more than one pair of hands working around your vulnerable body… it used to be ugly fantasies, but now there's beomgyu that's palming his cock in front of you and your boyfriend, looking as if he's deprived, no, starved of touch.

beomgyu reaches over to get his hands on one of your breasts, but that's interrupted by yeonjun, slapping his hands off.

“don't be so greedy,” he cleared his throat. “don't you think he has to earn it? right babe?” yeonjun tugs at your hair, gazing lovingly at your drool-covered lips and glossy eyes.

“mm,” you reply, inaudible. you can barely process what's happening, let alone talk with your panties still stuffed in your mouth as you collapse back onto the mattress, face squished in the pillow.

“you're gonna have to watch first.” yeonjun mocks as beomgyu steps back, gulping as he pulls his cock out of his boxers to fist it.

yeonjun thrusts into you again and your back arches even harder in response. yeonjun's hands are all over the back of your throat holding you lightly in place, making your choker dig into your skin as he continues to drill into you from behind.

“fuck, she feels so good.” yeonjun looks at beomgyu, smirking. gyu's touching himself all over, head thrown back at his best friend's comment as the pace of his stroking increases.

“d-don't say that,,” beomgyu sighs, voice slightly cracking as his hips start to jitter.

yeonjun slows down his pace to start fucking you with more care, drilling into you so intolerably slowly and roughly clashing your hips against his at the last second. as he drills into you, his tip very precisely rubs against your sweet spot at an angle, making goosebumps go crazy all over your body.

“oh my god, i'm actually going to c-cum,” you mumble as your crumpled up panties start to hang out of your mouth.

“what was that, sweetheart?” yeonjun teases, as if he can't hear you.

“i’m gonna cum…!” you raise your voice as he continues to slowly fuck you to help you reach your high. “ff…fuck!!” you fight a whine, panties falling out of your mouth as you bite down on your lips. you release all over his cock, dirtying the bedsheets that aren't yours.

“good, baby. turn over.” yeonjun pulls his cock out of you with a pop, and lazily, you obey him, drained of your energy and cum.

“what do you say it's beomgyu's turn?” yeonjun snaps his fingers at beomgyu, who's lips are all wet and mouth slightly open as he pants, fist leaving his cock.

“b-but, i just finished..!” you protest, but you're immediately cut off by yeonjun.

“what about poor beomgyu who's been patiently waiting? surely you can take one more, like the whore you are?” yeonjun pouts, the tone of his voice full of mockery.

“please,” beomgyu silently begs as he steps closer to you, hard cock dangling out of his boxers as he pulls his waistband down to his knees.

“go ahead.” yeonjun orders, barely considering your current state as beomgyu crawls onto the bed.

at this point, your body is quivering and your cunt feels so wasted and raw and stretched open, barely ready for another round but you already feel beomgyu tapping his cockhead against the rim of your entrance.

“y/n, ‘m sorry..” beomgyu mutters, then he shoves his length into you with barely any warning.

“fuck!!—” you yelp, pussy so swollen but beomgyu's ramming in and out of you like a dog in heat, his nails digging into your plush thighs as he kneads them. you can't stop him, it's like he's gone feral.

“fucking…ngh—needed this godsend of a pussy.. ugh..so w-warm,, 'm sorry, just feels so good, s-so sorry,” beomgyu whines and apologizes as he looks at yeonjun, as he sits at the foot of the bed looking at another man fuck his girlfriend.

meanwhile, you’re so fucking overstimulated you feel dizzy, ears ringing as you struggle more and more to acknowledge your surroundings because your eyes are clouded with tears. you want to cum so badly, your pussy is throbbing so badly, but yeonjun already milked you off your juices. you're seeing stars as beomgyu continues to fuck you at unimaginable speeds, using you as a pure fucktoy to get off. at this point, his pathetic apologies mean nothing.

and even if you're basically ruined, you still can't help but feel overwhelming pleasure and moans won't stop rolling off your tongue. your feet are curling up and your back is arching away from the mattress and your face is so fucked out unlike anything yeonjun's seen.

“fuck, i c-can't take this anymore, t-too good,, please, pleasepleaseplease—” you whine inaudibly, but you're immediately shut up when yeonjun shoves his cock into your gaping mouth without your notice.

your eyes widen and you almost bite down onto him, but obviously you came to your senses.

yeonjun's groaning, fucking your mouth with a grip on your scalp so strong you thought he was going to rip your hair out.

beomgyu on the other hand, he's fucking you nonsensically at this point, oblivious to everything but your warm pussy walls that take him so perfectly.

“so good, so fucking good, t-take it,” beomgyu moans, his eyes rolling back as he slams in and out of you.

“i'm gonna cum again, shit,” you mumble with your mouth still stuffed with jjun's cock as you clench on beomgyu, ready to cum.

“me too.. please, y-yeonjun?” beomgyu whines as he looks at yeonjun for approval. but instead, like you and beomgyu had hoped…

“you can't cum until i say so. the both of you.” yeonjun nonchalantly responds, and beomgyu's eyes clasp shut, trying everything in him not to bust inside of you, but you're also tearing up, trying your best not to release all over his cock.

but yeonjun just continues to use your mouth like a fleshlight, a smirk growing on his face watching the two of you under his control.

beomgyu slows down his pace in hopes to not explode inside you; it seemed to help a bit. you're also trying not to gag all over your boyfriend's cock as his best friend is stuffing you with his own.

beomgyu's eyes are dazed, so fucked out and his mouth is slightly agape as he starts to lose strength to chase his high. he's a head full of sweat and his long hair droops over his face as he watches you take yeonjun in your mouth.

that almost sends him over the edge because the sight had him sighing and groaning, greedy to fuck every part of you.

“yeonjun, please!!” beomgyu starts to beg for his permission, all he wants is nothing but to cum inside your pretty pussy as he watches his cum ooze out of you.

yeonjun is silent for a bit before he finally replies.

“fine.”

beomgyu immediately picks up his pace, moaning as his thumb start to flick your clit up and down to make you cum on him as well.

“holy fuck, beomgyu!! i'm gonna—!” you mumble as yeonjun thrusts in and out of your mouth at a faster pace this time, also seeming like he's about to cum. for that, you stick your tongue out to make sure you swallow him clean.

“shit. finally, finally, a-aah, ffffuck—” beomgyu slams into you one final time, then you can feel him fill you up with his semen, hot and thick. you see white for a second, then you finally release on his cock.

immediately after you feel hot spurts of yeonjun's cum shooting right down your throat and all over your tongue.

"swallow," yeonjun demands as he lays loving strokes on your throat.

“oh god.” you finally let go of a breath you didn't know you held, chest rising up and down as the both of them took their filthy cocks off of your body.

“fuck, it's literally dripping out of you.” it's like beomgyu's irises turn into little hearts when he sees his own cum trickle down your gaping hole so dirty and so messily. he bends down to collect the mess around your pussy with his fingers, then he thrusts his fingers back inside you, enjoying how the liquids look leaking out the sides of your entrance.

“hey, talk to me. you okay?” yeonjun chimes in, caressing your head lovingly, wiping the tears at the edge of your eyes away as he strokes his thumb down your jawline.

“uh…” you smile awkwardly at both of them. “can't say i didn't enjoy it.”

“i’ll never disturb you guys again, promise..” beomgyu chuckles awkwardly, with nothing else to say.

yeonjun covers his face, looking at the chaos he created.

“i think they'll be back soon,” yeonjun says. “go get cleaned up, the both of you, i'll redo these poor bedsheets.”

“here's y'all's prawn crackers.” soobin and kai walks towards you, yeonjun and gyu who's now resting on the sofa watching tv. meanwhile, taehyun's putting the groceries in the pantry.

“what'd y'all do when we were gone?” taehyun chimes in.

“um, play more games.” you quickly cleared your throat.

“yeah, we played games.” beomgyu backs you up as he looked at you and yeonjun, turning his head to nod at the three.

all of a sudden, kai's voice rings from across the hallway, catching the five of you off guard.

“dude, since when were these bedsheets grey??”

#xuri writes #choi beomgyu #choi yeonjun #choi beomgyu smut #choi yeonjun smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #txt smut

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justblades · 2 years ago

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⌕ THEIR FAVORITE POSITIONS, 18+

⟢ CHARACTERS : dan heng, gepard, sampo, blade, jing yuan, luocha x gender neutral! reader

⟢ WARNINGS : EXPLICIT, MDNI.

DAN HENG

— 's mind breaks whenever your face levels with him, straddling his lap as you lap his erection by rocking your hips. his lust imbued eyes struggle to choose where he should look at, but it always ends up locking a gaze with you, adoring your facial features.

"f-faster . ." his voice shakes as he catches his breath meanwhile your arms hooked around his neck struggle to keep themselves in place, fatigue gnawing at the both of your bones. "dan heng . . help me." you mumble and try to bounce on his dick faster and higher, earning you mewls of exhaustion and ecstasy at the same time from the male. dan heng's fingers then sink into your hips' skin, providing support for your body in order to catch the feeling of climaxing.

dan heng's face tells it all for you when he's nearing his orgasm, it's when his eyes squint into two crescent moons and lips parting open— lastly, his moans become a string of unending noises, letting it all out while he plants all of his seed into your walls. not to mention this position makes great use of little space, perfect for quickies or marathon sex sessions.

GEPARD

— isn't one to be dominant as he usually gets flustered in the midst of sexual sessions like this, eyes unable to focus so he tries to shift his gaze, feeling embarrassed of being bare naked in front of you. this is where you learned that he adores it when you're on top of him, riding his dick starting at a slow pace, eventually picking it up and building momentum.

for a captain, sure he has lots of stamina but how come he's panting so much whenever you're in control? one thing's for sure: he goes weak whenever you're dominating him. as you observe every single detail of his body language that signifies he's about to cum soon, you'll edge him and tease him more, delaying his climax which lead him becoming more sensitive than ever. that way, he'll cum loads more, satisfying your yearning when you lap him all in.

"do you like it this way?" you ask as you trace the depths of his naked chest, muscles flexing everytime he tries to thrust in you faster. naturally, his dick fills you to the brim that you couldn't help but let out a gasp of pleasure. "oh geppie . . eager to cum that badly?" he grits his teeth, blonde locks all disheveled from how much he's been shifting with his back laid on the bed's mattress. gepard nods in depravity, "well then." you affirm him, finally giving him what he wants as you intertwine your fingers with his.

JING YUAN

— gave off the impression that he's vanilla in bed at first given how you're always in a missionary position whenever you two do it. but then, the sessions only leveled higher— he's making you lock your legs around his snatched waist as he gives you impactful thrusts, eventually leading to him hooking your legs on his shoulders, delving deeper in your walls.

the general smirks, golden eyes gleaming from how he can see so much of your face and body underneath him. concurrently, you were losing your mind's sanity, baffled from how such a basic position like this can feel immensely gratifying. not just that, but he adds pressure on your lower abdomen with his hands and placed a pillow on your lower back; making you feel more of him than before, and after that, he grinds on your hole while he's inside, stirring your insides. his techniques, his ways: even though a basic position to be in, it felt pleasuring.

"wait, please!" you protest but he heeds no attention to your pleading. he continues to ram in your entrance making such sloppy noises while his cock is already climaxing. as he pushes in and pulls out, his foreskin is already coated with his own cum— "shh. quiet down, you'll take all of it in obediently, right?" he coos as he presses a peck on your ear, making your body tingle from his feathering touches.

SAMPO

— is always clingy for the person he loves, therefore, he loves it when he's physically intimate with the person. he's always the big spoon and you're the small one; not for long until you realized the reason why. he goes berserk when he pounds into your hole in this position, spooning you with his muscular strength and pistoning into your hole simultaneously.

you could feel ticklish from the way his hot breath brushes past your nape, huffing every minute as he ravages your entrance. the bed creaks along with sampo's rhythmic movements, making loud noises to which you were certain the neighbors could hear already.

"i told you, we should've gotten a new bed frame first before this . ." you complain to the male, but his hand only travels to your chin and makes you face him. his lips eagerly come in contact with yours, salivas mixing that in due course, trickle all the way down to your bodies. sex with him felt lazy but hot at the same time, it required minimum efforts but it also drains all of your energy inside your body— gradually becoming shockwaves of pleasure as sampo's breathy moans chime into your ears. "let's do that after this."

BLADE

— takes pleasure in any position as long as you're bending yourself over for him: usually doggystyle that becomes a prone bone when he's feeling greedy. the complete control he has on your body strokes his ego in a passionate way, so that he can do whatever he wants, like what you always tell him to. he'd lean down on your naked back and nibble on your shoulders, painting your skin with his bruises of ownership like it was a canvas of his own.

he usually grabs ahold of your wrist, forearms or hands, just so he can make you match his animalistic pace when it comes to his thrusts. although several minutes later your knees already start to go weak and give in, that's when he pushes you flat on the bed and forces your legs close, he was just getting started after all.

both his hands caressing the cheeks of your ass, he swiftly prods through your hole, now tight given the position that you're in. "ah— blade . . slow . . down, you're being so rough." you beseech, but your pleas are nothing but additional factor of pleasure for the male. his sneering smile grows wider as he pushes in further, letting out a guttural moan bubbling from his throat. "fuck . . you're so tight, when was i not?" he cusses and immediately incorporates immense force as he withdraws and rams back in, not letting your slutty hole rest at all. "blade . ." you sounded stupid calling his name repetitively, but he only chooses to leave hickeys on the nape of your neck as a response.

LUOCHA

— has a penchant for sex whenever you do it while the both of you are standing up, towering over your stature. he starts it off with his gloved fingers on your chin, lolling you for a deep french kiss while he removes his erect cock from the confinements of his clothing. the blonde male swiftly strips you off your undergarment swiftly everytime and proceeds to rub his tip at your very entrance.

with your hefty leg draped around luocha's dominant arm and the other standing still for support, he slowly bucks his hips, slipping the tip in a teasing way. as he does this, he forces you to look up at him and show the face of perversion you've been making - deprived of feeling him all in. "what is it that you want?" he asks, honeyed voice resounding like a sweet alarm for your approaching mornings.

"i want you, i want all of it." you reply, eyes twinkling with even more lust than before and that's what he absolutely loves when you're in this position. it's your body getting weak from having to stand still despite his tease play and also to show him what your true nature is, being lewd when presented the opportunity. luocha watches carefully as he inserts all of his remaining length in, reveling at how your eyes roll far back once he fills you to the brim. "good, that's more like it."

my masterlist !

#honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #gepard x reader #dan heng x reader #luocha x reader #sampo x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut

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bookshelf-dust · 2 years ago

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healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.

“Besides what?”

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”

You and Billy.

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room.

Sharing a bed.

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him.

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby.

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.”

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”

“Yeah.”

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.

It’s just me.

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.

“Sleep okay?” she asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.

“Okay.”

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.”

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.

“You motherfucker!”

You get him back, and he’s laughing.

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.”

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again.

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before.

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.

You’re healing him. You.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

5K notes · View notes

gogobootz1 · 6 months ago

Text

An American in London

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: One of Benedict's old schoolmates enlists his help with wooing his American penpal, but when Benedict (literally) runs into her travel companion, things take a turn

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: blood (nosebleed)

"Why, exactly, have you dragged me here?" Benedict bemoaned, looking around the nearly empty hotel bar. There were plenty of better places to drink in the city.

"Because tomorrow morning we are meeting my hopefully lovely pen pal here," came the arrogant voice of one of Benedict's old school friends. Charles had made no effort to continue their friendship into adulthood until earlier that day.

"We?" Benedict asked, skeptically as they sat.

"Yes, we," Charles nodded, motioning for drinks to be brought over. "You are to help me impress the girl and play chaperone."

Benedict squinted at him, "Why would I do that?"

"Do you have anything better to do?" Charles shrugged. Benedict blinked at him for a minute. The truth was, after dropping out of the academy, he did not. He had actually been rather bored as of late.

"Fine," he swallowed bitterly.

"Excellent!" Charles sprang up from his seat, "I'll be by Bridgerton house at ten tomorrow to pick you up."

"Where are you going?" Benedict asked as the man began walking off.

"I have an appointment," Charles called back, and Benedict rolled his eyes. He polished off his drink before putting some money on the table. Of course, Charles had left that to him. He made quickly for the side exit and frustratedly shoved the door open.

A pained cry drew his attention as he stepped out, and he found a young woman with her hand clapped over her nose. All previous annoyance seeped from him instantly. Guilt and shame flooded into its place as he rushed to check on you.

“Are you quite alright miss?”

“Not quite,” the muffled American accent caught him off guard.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he rushed out, eyes full of earnest regret. He grabbed the handkerchief from the pocket over his chest and reached toward your face with it. You reared back, hand still firmly covering your nose, though he swore he could see deep crimson starting to leak out.

“Will you let me have a look?”

“Oh, no,” you firmly shook her head, laughing without any humor, “I have had enough embarrassment for one night. I will not end my evening by bleeding on some random English gentleman.”

You began walking in the opposite direction, but he was quick to follow.

“Please, allow me to make amends, I feel at fault for-“

“You are at fault!” You stopped in your tracks to fix him with a glare.

He blinked back at you, “Well, yes, but I-“

“Unless you’d like to ram a door into your own nose, I’ve seen more than enough of you tonight, thank you,” you snapped, turning to leave. Before you could, you felt a drip of blood fall from your hand onto your dress. You let out a frustrated groan and turned back toward the stranger, snatching his still-outstretched handkerchief.

Working fast, you wiped your bloody palm, then your face. All the while, the concerned gentleman looked on in worry. Once you’d wiped the excess, you held the cloth up to your nose to catch any more.

“Perhaps I should introduce myself,” He nervously straightened his jacket.

“Perhaps not,” you shook your head, “if you introduce yourself we might just meet again, and you should pray for that not to happen.”

You might’ve laughed at his expression if your nose didn’t ache like hell. “Goodnight!” You said with faux cheer, as you left him standing in confusion.

“Goodnight?” You hardly registered his weak reply.

----------------------------

Benedict woke up on the floor after being violently tugged off the small sofa in his room. He'd been so absorbed with his sketch he hadn't even made it to bed last night.

"Come on then, Bridgerton," Charles' voice taunted from above him, "up and at 'em."

Benedict rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off of the floor, catching sight of the prior night's labors as he stood. A pair of intense eyes stared back at him, and since you'd kept the rest of your face closely covered, a swath of ruby replaced everything below the bridge of your nose. He tried to casually cover the piece before Charles could butt in and ask about it.

"I thought we agreed upon ten," Benedict told the man, stifling a yawn.

"It is ten," Charles snapped, and Benedict winced.

"A moment, then," he requested.

Charles rolled his eyes, "Make it fast, Bridgerton." Benedict rushed to dress in fresh clothing and fix his hair as quickly as possible. Being late would be an early point against him in making both England and Charles seem appealing. Not that those were easy tasks to begin with.

Luckily, he managed a quick turnaround, and a carriage waited outside for them. The grey sky, however, promised rain, yet another factor working against him.

Thanks to a hefty tip to the driver, the men were no more than five minutes late.

"Remind me of her name again," Benedict asked as the two exited the carriage.

Charles glared at him, "I swear to God if you-"

"Just tell me her name," they breezed through the door to the cafe within the hotel.

"Sarah," Charles said, scanning the room, "Sarah!"

A young woman had raced over, and likely would have embraced Charles had she not been held back by the elbow. The woman who prevented the social faux pas was instantly familiar to Benedict when he met the same pair of fierce eyes he'd stayed up too late sketching. Then took the time to examine the rest of your pretty face, though it was marred by a bruised nose. He had to hold back a wince at his own accidental handiwork.

When Charles elbowed him in the ribs, he tuned back into the conversation. Charles not-so-subtly nodded towards Sarah.

"Very fine to meet you, Sarah," he said, hoping he'd assessed the situation correctly. Pleased laughter from the lady told him he had.

"And you," she nodded, "I'd like you both to meet my dearest friend." Sarah introduced you, nudging you forward a bit.

You smiled reluctantly, "Nice to meet you, gentlemen." When you locked eyes again, your smile grew wider yet more mocking. Charles dipped his hat, but Benedict bowed to kiss your hand. Doing everything possible to enter your good graces couldn't hurt.

"Might I ask how you injured your nose?" Charles ventured. Benedict tensed and he saw your jaw clench.

Sarah, however, laughed good-naturedly, "Oh, you'll laugh at this Charles," she turned to you, "go on."

"Silly me, I walked right into a door," you said, tone bordering on teasing. To anyone else, it might’ve come off as humorously self-deprecating. Anyone else might’ve thought you clumsy or perhaps a little ditsy, but Benedict knew better. Benedict could see the threat behind your eyes.

"Well, that's not funny," Charles admonished Sarah, "I'm sorry you're hurt." Sarah seemed surprised but mildly impressed. You, too, seemed content with his answer. One point for Charles.

"Are you in much pain?" Benedict asked, hoping the answer would be no.

You blinked at him, mischief sparkling in your eyes. "Only when I breath," you nodded, deadly serious, but he saw the way your mouth fought a grin.

"That's awful," Charles said, sympathetically. "You couldn't find some medicine or some powder to cover the bruise?" He asked that to Sarah, and Benedict saw your expression shift. One point against Charles.

"I wear my wounds with pride," you challenged. Benedict was once again reminded that your wound was his fault while Charles seemed to struggle for a reply.

"Shall we sit?" Your well-mannered question seemed to Benedict to be the first victory of inevitably multiple challenges to Charles. He wondered if that was your purpose in accompanying Sarah from the States- to determine if Charles was up to snuff.

The four of you were nearly finished enjoying tea and scones when you pulled out the handkerchief you'd taken last night. It was pink, presumably from you trying to wash out the blood. Benedict choked on his sip of tea as you wiped the crumbs from your lips with it.

"When did you buy that?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, I'm only borrowing it until I get the favor I'm owed," Benedict gulped at that. You weren't kidding last night when you said he should hope to never run into you again. Though he did have trouble agreeing at the moment, and somehow, even still.

Sarah easily dismissed your comment and reengaged Charles in conversation. Benedict's attention remained on you, however, and you cheekily tilted your head at him.

Your eyes remained locked with his before you started speaking, "Perhaps you two would like to take a stroll of the hotel gardens before we leave for whatever plans you've made for the day."

Charles nodded at this, "An excellent idea." He walked around the table to offer Sarah a hand. When the two were out of hearing range, Benedict turned back to you.

"Will this favor earn me your forgiveness?" He asked, "Because I really do feel terribly about-"

"Stop," you said, "It's fine. Sarah had no problem believing I still have sea legs and tripped into a door."

Benedict's shoulders drooped as he breathed in relief. "But are you in pain? I couldn't tell if you were serious earlier."

Your expression became softer, "Only a little." He was relieved by that answer. "But I wasn't kidding about the favor," you reminded, sternly.

He froze, "And what favor do you require?"

"I'd like a full report of Charles' background, personality, what he does in his free time," you listed off, "anything of the like."

The questioning glance he gave you encouraged you to elaborate.

"Look," you said with a huff. "Sarah's mom is over the moon about this. Marrying her daughter off to an English lord will boost her social status by leaps and bounds. Her father, however, is not so convinced. Mr. Du Pont has always been kind to me, so when he asked me to assess this potential marriage, I gave him my word."

Benedict nodded, "And you'd like me to inform you on Charles, so you can inform Mr. Du Pont on Charles."

"Exactly," you said simply.

"That's rather funny, you know, Charles asked me to help woo Sarah and convince her he's worth a permanent trip across the Atlantic," he said, and you raised a brow.

"Are you trying to repent for hitting Charles in the face with a door?"

Benedict blinked, "What would you do if I said yes?"

"Help me," you snarled.

He raised his hands defensively, "All right! How am I meant to do that?"

"Have pertinent information sent to my hotel suite," you shrugged.

"Fine," Benedict assented after a minute.

"What's fine?" Sarah asked, having just returned with Charles. Her tinkling voice took him by surprise, and he laughed nervously.

"These biscuits," he said, standing, "they're very fine, I may even take some to go." Benedict stuffed two of the shortbread biscuits into his pocket and regretted it soon after. He regretted it even more after catching Charles' nasty glare at him.

Taking a sharp breath, he turned to offer you his arm, "Shall we?"

You politely took his arm, repressing your laughter. As Sarah and Charles walked on ahead, you leaned in, "Save one for me." Benedict lightly snorted before catching himself, but you seemed pleased at his laughter.

----------------------------

As weeks began to pass, notes from Benedict began to pile up. They were originally only about Charles, but as you started sending replies, the notes grew more conversational.

Sarah certainly only grew more besotted with time, and you were beginning to worry she'd rubbed off on you. The more time you spent with Benedict by way of monitoring Sarah and Charles, the more you found him positively charming.

His good looks were apparent from the beginning and made the door incident all the worse for you, but you'd recently grown fond of his personality.

Last week's art gallery found you admiring him while he spoke passionately of the use of light in one of the paintings you'd come across. You'd only snapped out of it was he asked your thoughts on the piece. The most you could muster up was that you absolutely agreed.

As the two of you chaperoned countless walks and lunches, you conversed about any and everything. Benedict told you of his artwork and promised to eventually show you some of it after you asked a few times. You told him of your own passions, and how they were often trampled by society's expectations. He confessed that since both his older and one of his younger brothers had been recently married, his mother had been nagging him about finding someone.

"I think it's important to be comfortable alone," you'd told him on one particularly breezy walk. "You shouldn't make do with someone else's life when you can't be content with your own."

"Come again?"

"I only mean it's unfair to put certain expectations on a spouse," you shrugged, "No one is who anyone else wants them to be, and trying to force people to be what they are not leads to unhappy marriages."

"In that case, I'm glad no one expects a thing from me," Benedict said.

You laughed a little, "I don't think people expect much of me either. At least we won't let anyone down."

"Setting the bar low," he nodded, smiling, "I like it." Your laughter drew a smile to his face.

----------------------------

A few months had gone by, and Benedict was overjoyed when Charles proposed to Sarah. He was happy for the two of them, sure, but mostly, he was glad your stay had been extended. You'd become such a fixture in his life that he struggled to imagine a time after your visit.

Your return tickets were canceled. Instead, Sarah's parents had booked their spots on a ship sailing over to England. They wanted to plan their daughter's wedding and see her well-adjusted in her new homeland.

"What will your first report to Mr. Du Pont entail, then?" Benedict asked you. The two of you had been tasked with greeting Sarah's parents upon their arrival, and you sat opposite each other in a carriage.

"What makes you think this will be my first report?" You raised a brow at him.

"You've been exchanging letters across the Atlantic about Charles? He's nowhere near interesting enough for that," Benedict told you, inspiring a grin.

"They're mostly about mine and Sarah's time here. She's not great at staying in touch- yet another reason they sent me along," you said. "But you're right, I have yet to form a full opinion on Charles. I go back and forth, but I trust your judgment."

Benedict's eyes widened at the admission as you pulled up to your destination. He exited the carriage first to helpfully offer you his hand. To his displeasure, you pulled away all too soon when you saw the Du Ponts.

Mrs. Du Pont cheerfully called your name as you rushed excitedly towards them. Benedict smiled as he watched you greet the older couple. They were clearly quite fond of you.

It took a minute before they registered his presence.

"Where is Sarah? And who is this gentleman?" Mrs. Du Pont asked you, trying to lower her voice for the latter question.

You perked up, "This is Mr. Benedict Bridgerton." You grabbed his forearm and pulled him closer to the conversation. "He's a friend of Charles. They've both been showing us the best of England!"

"So this is Benedict!" Mr. Du Pont said happily, "I've read a lot about you."

Benedict shot you a questioning look as he shook the older man's hand, "You have?"

"Oh yes," the man nodded despite you shaking your head at him. When Benedict turned to you again, you stopped and let an angelic smile grace your face. His smirk told you you'd been caught. Oh well, if he asked, you'd simply tell the truth. He was by far the most interesting part of Great Britain.

----------------------------

Wedding preparations had been running smoothly, and soon enough Benedict was out with a group of high society men to celebrate the impending nuptials.

The men were a few drinks deep when Charles made a toast, "Soon, lads, I will no longer be a free man, so you best believe I will enjoy it while it lasts."

Benedict was not sure he appreciated that sentiment, but let it pass as his other companions gave cries of, "Here, here!"

Drinking eventually turned to debauchery, and Benedict soon felt crowded at the table slowly attracting more women of the night. He excused himself to find another drink. Upon his return, however, he found Charles happily skipping off with one of them.

"Charles?!"

The man's attention turned to him, "Don't wait up, Bridgerton!" Charles laughed, and Benedict felt his face drop.

"Don't tell me..."

"Oh lighten up mate," Charles shrugged, "it's not like it counts."

Benedict blinked as his old school friend sauntered off with the woman. Every time he drank with men of the ton, it became more apparent that Violet Bridgerton's parenting methods were not widespread.

----------------------------

When he woke up in the hotel suite the next morning, Benedict spent a few blissful moments without the memory of the prior night. When he did remember, he tried to brush it off as a drunken illusion. Only, logic won out in the end. He hadn't drunk that much, and he had very clearly seen the scene with his own eyes.

Why did Charles have to go and make a mess of things? Everything had been going swimmingly. Now, just because the man couldn't keep it in his pants, countless hours of wedding planning would go down the drain. Sarah would be inconsolable, her parents would be furious, and they'd all be going back home. You'd be going back home. Shit.

He agonized over the situation, pacing the floor for an hour before Charles waltzed in.

"Are you only now getting back?" Benedict asked him, taking in the disheveled clothing Charles had been wearing the night prior.

"What can I say? I certainly enjoyed myself," Charles said smugly. He walked off, presumably to freshen up, but Benedict called after him.

"Charles?" The man turned, "You wouldn't... engage in that sort of behavior as a married man?"

Charles chuckled a bit, "Bridgerton, prostitutes don't count," that was concerning, "That sort of revelry was a one-time thing." That was... a bit better? Benedict let out a miserable groan.

----------------------------

Your bright eyes at the wedding rehearsal made him briefly forget his troubles. Once you were both in the proper position, Benedict didn't bother to pay attention. In fact, he pretty much just stared at you from across the altar. You looked good up there. He liked seeing you at the altar. He liked being across from you at the altar.

He was in trouble.

You whispered to him as he escorted you back down the aisle when the faux-service was over. Being best-man did afford him some benefits. "Guess what?"

"What?" He smiled down at you.

"The Du Ponts are thinking of staying indefinitely," you said, secretively, "they bought a house here. They've invited me to stay with them."

"Oh," he said, sense suddenly knocked back into him.

"It's looking like I might be in your hair a while longer."

Benedict quite nearly told you to stay in his hair as long as you cared to but felt it might be too forward. He also felt you'd make a lice joke at his expense. Your sharp sense of humor was one of the many things he found charming about you and one of the many reasons he did not want to let you go.

But if Charles and Sarah were getting married, you were staying. The Du Ponts were staying.

Just how bad was some debauchery at a stag party, really? In the grand scheme of things?

"Oh, how was the gentlemen's party?" You asked, excitedly, "I hope none of you behaved too poorly."

A nervous laugh bubbled from his mouth, "No. No, just the usual level of poor behavior." Fuck.

"Glad to hear it," you nodded. "Was Charles drunk out of his mind?" You laughed a bit.

"Quite possibly," Benedict said, smiling uncomfortably. The man was definitely out of his mind. Whether it could be attributed to the drink Benedict wasn't sure.

"Well, thanks for keeping an eye on him," you said, giving his arm a squeeze.

He was in big trouble.

----------------------------

On the morning of the wedding, Benedict was jittery. In a hallway of the church, he kept nervously adjusting his collar. A steady pair of hands pulled his away, and he looked up to find you fixing his collar.

"Stop touching it," you told him as you worked, "it looks good."

"Right," he breathed stiffly.

"And try not to look like you're attending a funeral," you reminded him, smirking. "Oh! I have something for you," you pulled the handkerchief he'd given you when you first met out of a small bag. Pressing it into his hand, you smiled up at him, "favor complete. Consider us even."

He could only nod at you as you began to retreat.

"I'm off to help Sarah. See you soon!"

Benedict gazed after you, guilt creeping in.

"I'm relieved she's kept such a close eye on Sarah," Mr. Du Pont suddenly appeared beside him, "but I should've expected it. The two have been like sisters ever since..."

"Since?' Benedict asked him curiously while straightening his bow tie.

"Well, we took her in some years back when her family passed," the older man explained.

As much as Benedict thought he'd gotten to know you, it seemed you'd yet to feel comfortable enough to tell him that, "I hadn't known."

"No," Du Pont shook his head, "she doesn't like to talk about it. Hates having to bear people's pity."

That, Benedict could understand. He had found that to be one of the worst parts of the aftermath of his father's death.

"But it's been a pleasure to have her in our family. I'm only happy it's expanding! Hopefully, she'll have nieces and nephews soon," Sarah's father looked around before leaning in a bit, "I'm hoping for lots of grandchildren. I'll be perfectly happy when both my girls have good, loyal husbands at their side. It seems we're almost there!" With a pat on Benedict's shoulder, Mr. Du Pont walked off, "I'll see you in there."

Benedict nodded absently. Oh. He had mucked things up. He had really, really mucked things up.

Benedict paled a little. In his bid to keep you by his side as long as possible he'd neglected all other considerations. Including the life and happiness of your sister in all but blood. This wedding was very real and very imminent. And despite the time he dreamt it was the two of you getting married, his feelings were not nearly the most important of those involved.

Sarah was about to marry a man who had cheated on her only two nights prior.

But Charles had said it was a one-time thing. A last hooray before settling down. He'd said that prostitutes do not count anyway and- oh.

Benedict sharply inhaled when he realized his own foolishness. How had he not seen this? The bars they'd visited in the past months were all down the street from the one they'd entered two nights ago- the one next to the brothel. Each time he would excuse himself to retire to his home, Charles had stayed.

A fool, indeed. He'd been so enamored and distracted with you that his spy work on your behalf was entirely lackluster. Worse yet, when he did find pertinent information out, he had lied.

He had to make it right.

Benedict raised his fist to knock on the door of the room Sarah had taken over. Before he could, it swung open. You smiled at him, a little confused.

"You know you're only supposed to escort me down the aisle," you joked, "You don't have to start this far back."

He shook his head grimly, and your face fell. "I need to talk to you," he looked up to find Sarah behind you, "both of you."

You stepped aside and let Benedict in, nervous at his shift in attitude.

"You cannot marry him," Benedict had summoned all of his nerve to say the words and looked Sarah square in the eye when he did so. She deserved that much. She deserved the truth.

"What?" Sarah asked skeptically. She was already in her wedding gown. She had no idea what was happening.

"Benedict, what are you talking about?" Your question was quieter, but you were deadly serious. As soon as he said it you knew something was wrong, and he was right in bringing it to Sarah.

He swallowed when he looked into your eyes, "I lied to you." You felt like he'd just slammed a door in your face again. "Charles did behave poorly the other night. In fact, I think he's been behaving poorly for months and I've been too blind to see it."

"What? He was drinking?" Sarah asked, "I knew that would happen."

"No," Benedict shook his head, "He was with- with other women."

And with that, Sarah was out the door. You, however, could not bring yourself to follow. You were frozen to the floor, looking at the man you'd trusted with glassy eyes.

"You lied to me," you whispered.

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head, laughing a little. The sound was sad, "I guess I broke my own rule." His eyes pleaded with you, but it was far from enough, "I expected too much from you. You couldn't help but let me down." His heart sank.

Finally, you turned to race after Sarah. Benedict was hot on your trail, "Please-"

"Oh, this is not over," you called over your shoulder, "but we have more pressing matters to deal with."

You stopped dead in your tracks after rounding a corner. It was so abrupt that Benedict could not slow his own pace enough not to bump into you. You both stumbled a bit but recovered in time to see Sarah slap Charles in the face. She then marched out of the church with her head held high.

Mrs. Du Pont followed her straight away. And Charles rushed after them both. Mr. Du Pont stopped only to briefly speak to you, "Would you both be so kind as to handle-"

"Consider it done," Benedict said. You sent him a sidelong glance before begrudgingly nodding at the man who had taken you in. Mr. Du Pont left to chase after his wife and daughter, leaving you and Benedict to dismiss guests and try to cancel vendors.

----------------------------

A long and tiresome day of working to undo weeks of wedding planning and avoiding the sad blue eyes that followed your every move ended in your hotel's garden. More specifically, eating the wedding cake that could not be returned in the hotel garden. You had very generously given most of it to the hotel staff. But you saved the top tier for yourself.

Draped across a bench, you stabbed into it with a fork. As you did, the charming figurine of Sarah and Charles fell from its place. You did not hesitate to grab the miniature and toss it into some shrubs.

"Rather harsh, don't you think?" A familiar voice drew your attention. You huffed when you saw who it was.

Benedict Bridgerton slowly made his way over to your bench. He gestured towards your legs, silently asking you to make room for him on the bench. When you didn't move, he simply sat himself parallel to you on the gravel floor.

"I am sorry," he said after some silence, looking straight ahead.

"I know," you nodded, not yet looking at him, "I suppose I am too."

"Whatever for?" Benedict's surprise broke the quietness of the moment, and he gazed at you questioningly.

You shrugged, still not looking at him, "I should have known better than to think you'd prioritize me over him. Charles is your friend."

"Maybe," he spat defensively, "but you're-" He cut himself off.

"What am I? To you?" You asked, now looking intently into his eyes, trying to discern his thoughts.

Benedict inhaled a large breath before telling you the God's honest truth, "When I realized what Charles was doing, I also realized that you would leave England with Sarah almost as soon as you found out. And I wanted you to stay." He paused, " I want you to stay."

Your lips parted as if to say something in return, but he barreled on, "I behaved selfishly, and I am a beast for it, but you were always my priority. Do not dream of thinking otherwise."

You swung your legs off of the bench and leaned forward towards him. Stabbing a bite of cake with your fork, you stuck it out to him in a gesture of peace. He cautiously ate the cake from your fork, waiting for you to say something. You took another bite before you did.

"A ship sets sail tomorrow," you said lightly, "back across the Atlantic." And with it, his hopes would sink. "I secured three tickets on it this morning."

Benedict blinked. That didn't add up right. "Is Mr. Du Pont stay-"

You quickly shook your head, and things started to click in place for him.

"Mrs. Du Pont?"

Your smirk started to grow.

"Sarah?"

"Now you're being deliberately obtuse," you mocked.

He grinned up at you, "Then...?"

"The Du Ponts need someone to mind their new manor in the English countryside. Who better than their favorite non-daughter?" You shrugged happily.

"Will you not get lonely in such a large estate out in the country?" Benedict asked teasingly.

You smiled playfully at him, "Then I should hope someone will be kind enough to call on me." Benedict looked rather self-satisfied at that. "I should only hope they clean up before they do."

His confusion was answered when you took a handful of cake and smeared it down the left side of his face. He stuck his tongue in his cheek to try not to laugh. It was well-played and deserved.

"Now we're even," you whispered close to his face before standing and walking away.

"Jokes on you," he shouted after you, "it tastes better like this!" Your laughter filled the night air, and he was happy to have made such sweet amends.

--------------------------------------------------------

I love Benedict sooo much!!! I wrote this super quick after watching the new season, so sorry if anything didn't make sense

Thanks for reading <3

(also sorry for any historical inaccuracies or whatever but this is Bridgerton we're talking about )

#benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #Benedict Bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader

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badbtssmut · 8 months ago

Text

Where you go to a host club for a distraction and meet hottie host Kim Taehyung who makes you forget all about your problems when he takes you to the VIP rooms to fuck.

Contains: fingering, hitting it from the back, missionary , drooling, rough sex, Tae is kinda an escort

Inspo x links NSFW: missionary, behind

“Mmm…” You couldn’t believe that you were actually doing this; naked from head to toe, your legs spread, getting fingered by a man you met at the host club. You had told yourself you needed a distraction— and it wouldn’t go further than a kiss, at most.

But there was something about Taehyung that made you eager to follow him to the VIPs rooms.

“Oh..!” You shuddered as he pushed another finger in.

The room was quiet, save for the lewd noises of your wet pussy sucking his fingers in.

“Such a pretty pussy you have here. Is this what you wanted to show me when you followed me back here? Hm, beautiful?”

His voice was soft and gentle, yet the words that came out of his mouth were dirty and sinful. You didn't mind it, though. In fact, it turned you on even more.

You found yourself nodding, not even sure if that was the truth, but you went along with it.

“That pretty pussy would look even prettier when it's filled to the brim with cock, wouldn't it? Would you like that, beautiful?” Taehyung asked, pulling his fingers out, only to push them back in a few moments later.

It was embarrassing, really, having someone watch you squirm underneath their fingers, but the feeling was so good, you couldn't complain.

“Yes… please.” You replied, eyes locked with his.

Taehyung didn't break eye contact, not even when he was leaning in closer to place a sweet kiss on your lips.

You closed your eyes, and the two of you just stayed there, his lips against yours, while his fingers were still moving inside of you. Then he pulled away, replacing his fingers with his cock.

"I can't wait any longer." Taehyung admitted, pushing his cock into your dripping pussy. “So wet, my cock just slides in, what a good girl…”

"Oh, oh..." He was bigger than you expected, filling you up nicely. Your walls accommodated him, and you couldn't help but sigh in relief, finally feeling the pleasure you craved.

"That's right, baby. Just lay there and take it." Taehyung hummed, resting his hands on either side of your head. "So tight, such a obedient pussy, knows how to take big cocks, hm?"

He started off with slow, shallow thrusts, pulling all the way out, until only the tip of his cock was inside, before he was back in again, going slow, just enough to drive you crazy.

"Taehyung… please." You stammered.

"Yes, beautiful?" He looked down at you.

"I can't.. Please, I can't take this anymore." You whined, hips bucking upwards to get more of his cock inside.

“Yeah? Want more?” And he did give it to you, his pace becoming faster, thrusts harder, until he was fucking you into the sheets, and all you could do was moan his name and beg him to keep going. You couldn’t think, couldn't focus, not with the way he was ramming into your pussy.

The man was burying your body into the bed with his thrusts, his cock pounding into you so deep that you started to drool. You were a mess, a complete and utter mess, but you didn’t care, not when the pleasure was so intense.

“You love that huh? That pussy is sucking me right in, taking me so well, so wet and needy for my cock. I bet you want more, don’t you, baby? Wanna cum on this cock, hm?” He whispered, his focus not faltering as he trusted you in the same rhythm.

“Yes, feels so good…” was about all you could say, your brain melting at how good he felt inside of you.

Taehyung trusted into you one last time, letting your pussy savor the taste of his cock, before he pulled out. Taehyung then directed you on all fours, spreading your legs open and pushing himself back into your warmth.

Your back arched in pleasure, your ass sticking out towards him. You didn't expect him to go harder than before, but he did. It was almost as if he had a sudden boost of energy. His thrusts were mind blowing, a steady pace causing your body to bounce back and forth, before he’d finish off the series of thrusts by firmly gripping onto your hips and snapping you back harshly against his cock, causing you to let out a pleasurable cry each time it happened.

Your arms collapsed under you, your face down and your ass up as he continued to fuck into you. His thrusts were hard and merciless, and he showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. Heck, you weren’t even sure how you were holding on considering how he was abusing your pussy like a maniac.

Your fingers dug into the sheets and your mouth gaped open, drooling into the sheets below. You could hear him cursing, his groans growing louder as he picked up the pace.

You could feel it coming, the build up. The tension in your lower belly, the feeling of your toes curling and your thighs quivering, you were so close, and he knew it.

“It’s okay, baby, if you got to cum, then cum, let me see that pussy come undone for me.” Taehyung cooed, running his fingers down your back.

That was the final straw. Your whole body trembled and you came on his cock, moaning his name into the pillow. He wasn’t far behind either. His thrusts grew sloppy, his breaths becoming uneven. He gave one last thrust, burying his cock deep inside of you before he spilled his seed, coating your insides with his cum.

You didn’t move, and neither did he, and the two of you stayed still for a few more seconds, before Taehyung grabbed your arms and pulled you up, your back resting against his chest. His fingers dug into your cheeks before he pulled your head to face him, pressing his lips against yours.

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts requests #bts smut requests #bts fanfic #bts smut fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung x female reader #taehyung x reader

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aluciahaz · 8 months ago

Note

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

#hazbin hotel #dom reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel dom reader #sub hazbin hotel #bottom vox #sub vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox

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woso-dreamzzz · 9 months ago

Text

Surgery III

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Mami wants another one

Because of your superpower, Mami says that you make a lot of assumptions. She says it's because your brain makes lots of different connections that other people wouldn't. Sometimes you just assume things because of it.

You don't know what that means but you just nod and smile because Ingrid says that's what you need to do to get Mami to stop talking sometimes.

You're completely enamoured with the washing machine spinning when Ingrid swears. Or, you think she swears. Sometimes she says stuff in Norwegian that she tells you not to repeat because it's naughty so you assume those are swear words.

She doesn't swear a lot but you know to ignore it anyway, focussing on the way the washing machine spins. You'd tried to get in it once with Bagheera so you could both spin but Mami got angry at you and talked for ages for you smiled and nodded as your mind wandered to whether or not you could fit in Bagheera's cat tree.

"Cub," Ingrid groans and your name makes you turn.

She's holding one of your toy trucks. It's big and yellow and it's like the ones that the people building the apartments down the street use to move all their big rocks.

You smile toothily at Ingrid and reach your hand out for your toy.

"I asked you to clean up your mess a while ago, cub," She says, not giving your toy to you.

You frown. Ingrid did tell you to do that but you'd gotten distracted by Bagheera and then the rumble of the washing machine. You like the washing machine so you sat in front of it.

"My toy," You say.

"We need to clean up," Ingrid says," It's very messy."

You don't see the problem. Your things are strewn all over the room but you know where everything is so it shouldn't be a problem. But Ingrid likes things neat and tidy.

You think that's why Mami is dating her because Mami is messy and she needs someone to organise her things like how Ingrid helps you organise your thoughts.

You like Ingrid though and want to keep her happy because she's the boss in the house.

You get a bit distracted as you go to pick up your digger, making little engine noises with your mouth. You're not really sure how engine noises sound so you just mimic the sound of the washing machine instead.

You ram it into the wall a few times as Mami comes into the room.

She's holding Bagheera.

"Oh, please, Ingrid," Mami says," It won't be much trouble. Please, let's get another one."

You wonder what Mami is talking about. You put your truck away and reach for your lion cub, making it purr like the washing machine as you get out your magic wiggles.

You mull over Mami's words. You don't go to nursery a lot (Ingrid says that they don't accommodate your add with an h somewhere well so you only go when you absolutely have to) but the last time you went, there was a little boy who said that his mum begged his papa for another baby and she got one.

If that's what Mami is talking about, you don't like it. You don't want a new baby because if Mami gets a new baby then maybe you won't be lion cub anymore because the baby will be younger than you so they'll get your nickname.

You don't want a new nickname because you're Mami and Ingrid's cub.

Your thoughts make your magic wiggles a bit worse than better, especially when Mami mentions your name.

"It'd be good for y/n," She says," You've always said it was good for you when you were younger."

Ingrid makes a face. "That's different and you know it. We had a bigger house when I was younger. There's not enough space here."

You're glad Ingrid is speaking up because adults don't always listen to little kids. You know this because sometimes the adults at nursery don't like you running around when you have the magic wiggles even though Ingrid tells you it's the best way to get them out.

You hope Mami listens to Ingrid because you definitely don't want the new baby that Mami must want.

"Please, Ingrid," Mami says," We can make room! y/n would love it! It could share her bed."

You freeze instantly. Your brain screeches to a halt as you work out what Mami's just said.

You're up on your feet, throwing your lion cub to the ground and screeching. It's very high pitched and it makes your ears ring a little bit. You stamp your foot.

"No!" You say," Not in my bed!"

You don't want to share your bed anymore than you want to share your Mami and your Ingrid.

"No! No! No!" You cry.

You couldn't get your magic wiggles out earlier but they're all coming out now as you scream and cry as much as your little body will allow.

"Why?" Mami asks," You let Bagheera sleep in bed with you."

"My Bagheera!" You say through your tears.

Mami tries to go to soothe you but you shriek again and hide behind Ingrid because she doesn't want this new baby either and she won't betray you like Mami is.

"Si," Mami says," Your Bagheera. But you love Bagheera a lot."

You nod.

"Don't you want to have another friend to play with?"

You shake your head. "No! No new baby! Just me!"

Mami looks at you strangely. "I know," She says," You're the only baby we'll have. We know that."

It's your turn to look strange at Mami now and you peek out from behind Ingrid's leg to look at her. You sniffle. "Why're you askin' for another one if you know it's just me?"

Mami laughs slightly, a smiling tugging at her lips. "I'm sorry, cub. I should have been more clear."

"Mapi," Ingrid says warningly," No."

"Oh come on, it'll be good for her. It'll teach her responsibility."

You frown. "What will?"

"I've been thinking." Mami eases down to your height. "You're a big girl now and you love Bagheera a lot but she's technically Mami's, right?"

You nod.

"Well, how about we get you a kitten for yourself? Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Mapi!"

You nod quickly and Mami smiles.

"Well," She says," You just have to convince Ingrid. Because she's the boss, remember?"

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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approvedtrash · 1 year ago

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whose kitchen is it?

You had really gotten yourself into this honestly. You know better than to mouth off to Katsuki right after he gets off patrols. Especially when it comes to who owns the kitchen. Obviously, it was his.

"Wanna say that again? Whose kitchen is this?" He growled in your ear. His hips pressed right up against your ass.

"Y-yours.. Katsu.." you whined out. Grinding back against him while your back arched on the counter.

"That's fucking right, and what do you do in my kitchen?" He asked. His hand now yanking your shorts down so his fingers could get to their prize.

"Serve you and Eiji," you're panting out as his fingers find their way to your most sensitive spot.

"Right again Angel, and you know what's on the menu tonight?" He cooed in your ear?

"I'm making -"

You were cut off by the feeling of Katsuki ramming into you from behind. He groaned at the feeling of how warm you were wrapped around him.

"You are. Isn't that right Red?" He asked, now looking at the doorway to see Eijirou had walked in and watched the show unfolding before him.

"She looks delicious, and I can't wait to have a taste," he said as he walked in. Giving Katsuki a kiss on the neck you were still cockwarming him waiting to see where this was going.

"Hi sweets, I see you tried to be tough and claim the kitchen for your own? While you do look wonderful cooking for us, I think Katsuki still runs this," Eijirou said while grabbing a fistful of your hair.

"We-welcome home Eiji - ah!" You said feeling Katsuki slowly moving his hips back and forth.

"Can I sample this wonderful meal baby? Please?" He asked while kneeling down to see where you and Katsuki were connected.

The feeling of both of their attention on you was almost overwhelming. Katsuki had you full and sensitive already while Eijirou's light touches were sending shivers all over your body.

"Yeah Angel, can you ride Eiji's face while I fuck you?" He asked.

"Pl-please. Whatever you want," you said.

That was all the confirmation they needed. Eijirou was on the ground leaning up again the cupboards with his tongue already licking over your clit. Katsuki pulled back and slammed into you just enough to have Eijirou holding your thighs still.

"You must have been working really hard on this Sweets, you taste so good," Eijirou's voice was muffled as he licked and sucked on you.

"She's clenching already Red, must be close huh?" He taunted, grabbing onto your hip with one hand while his hand gave your ass a good smack.

"If she comes while you're still inside though I'm gonna need you to move Kats, want to taste my Sweet. A little dessert before the main course," the redhead said.

"Hear that Angel, tell us when you're close so Red here can have his sweet little dessert," he whispered in your ear.

You weren't even speaking in sentences. The whines and gasping from the amount of pleasure you were receiving were making your ears ring.

"Mm- close, I'm close.." you ended up being able to get out.

Katsuki pulled out but lifted your shirt a bit while Eijirou pulled you closer to his face to fill you with his tongue. His grip sent you over as you came all over his open mouth much to his satisfaction. You felt Katsuki cumming all over your ass and back as he saw how euphoric the scene in front of him was.

Your legs were shaking at this point and you were holding onto the counter for any stability. Eijirou made sure you didn't leave a mess at all and while Katsuki recovered your red-haired knight swept you away to the bathroom. Drawing a bath and cleaning you up a bit to soak while they finished dinner.

"You two are something else with your attitudes," Kiri said as he walked back into the kitchen to get you some water.

"She started it, just had to make sure she knew this was still mine," Bakugo grumbled out.

Laughing at his comment Kirishima filled up a glass of water and grabbed a granola bar. He went to walk out when he heard a grunt at the stove.

"You two looked so fucking good earlier, but I know you're not done for the night," Katsuki said.

Kirishima smiled and turned with a smile, "Well, maybe you could put your mouth to work later while I remind her who owns the bedroom."

#kiribaku #kiribakureader #mdni #mha #bnha #aged up characters #kirishima eijirou #katsuki bakugo #smut #bakugou smut #kirishima smut #mha smut #late night thoughts #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader

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sturnlova · 9 months ago

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Matt’s long john (M.S)

(Matt Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning : Smut, new to writing, not proof read all the way, pet names, breeding kink and other ones, i don’t know what else 😭 )

Matt : Blue

Y/N : Pink

Chris : Orange

Nick : Purple

( Word count : 900)

—————————————————————————

“Next up, we have Matt’s long john” Chris bursted out laughing due to matt’s stunned reaction to Chris’ words.

Me and Nick where in the background as Nick said in a frightened voice “ why would you ever say that” i giggled as i walked past Matt and whispered in his ear “ am i gonna get proof?” Matts ears and checks turned pink due to my words, i just walked away and sat on chair next to Nick waiting for the next donuts.

Time skip

Nick was fast asleep and i was just facing his back on my phone scrolling through TikTok until i got a snap for Matt, it’s not like it was weird for us to text but we didn’t really text on snapchat as i barely used it.

I opened the snap to be shown with a 8 and a half dick with a pink tip and a vein running down the side with matt’s hand holding it, and the text reading “ here’s ya proof” i could hear the Boston accent through the text.

I was still in a state of shock but snapped out of it to slowly make my way to Matt’s room.

I got out of Nick’s room silently and went to Matt’s room forgetting i had the tiniest shorts and a Calvin klein bra.

As i was about to open the door it swung open before my eyes to be meet with matt with dangerously low plaid pants showing his v-line and a happy trail along with no top on.

He grabbed me the waist and kissed me passionately, i started clenching my thigh to attempt to get rid of the growing heat between my thighs.

Matt noticed this and asked me if it was okay to remove my bottoms “ it’s okay Matty, remove my bra well you’re at it, don’t forgot your pants to” Matt removed all of our clothes and threw it somewhere in his room.

He kicked the door closed with his foot and placed me on the bed, he pulled me to the edge of the bed and started fingering me as he whispered praises in my ear.

I just moaned in response, but i needed more than his fingers, “ Matt please fuck me i need it.” and with that Matt added his length to my tight hole stretching me out.

He gave me 30 seconds to adjust but it was definitely not enough time as he started pounding into me” FUCK MATT SHIT YOURE SO BIG, FUCK I DONT KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE IT” i moaned insanely loud as he cut me off with his fingers that were once in me.

Nick called me, Matt saw this and made me answer the phone to talk to Nick.

“ Y/N are you in Matt’s room FUCKING him?”

Matt continued thrusting in me even though i was on call with his brother.

“ no nick i’m- i’m ju-just in his room .. bec- because you were sleeping and i go- got b.. bored.”

“Ok?? Are you ok you’re stuttering a lot?”

“ I’m o-okay i’m just not really focused, we are w-watching a sh-show”

“Ok well come back soon i still need a cuddle buddy.”

and with that i threw my phone across the room.

“ Good girl, lying to him just for you can get fucked by me, nearly got caught with the way you stuttered. Am i fucking you dumb ma?” “ yes fuck Matt you are.”

He kept on ramming into me, it was a speed i didn’t even know was possible, with every thrust hitting my g-spot i must’ve had 3 orgasms.

He licked the tears that feel from my eyes, and stated “ pretty girl can i fuck my babies in you? make you carry a mini me? you gonna let me fill you up?” He started whimpering as his thrust got slower and i was fucked dumb to the point i was barely able to respond, so i just silently moaned yes in response hoping he heard.

He released in me mixing both of our fluids together as i also came undone underneath him.

As he pulled out our juices started coming out but that didn’t last long since he pushed it back in my sensitive hole making me moan.

“Can’t waste any of it”

Matt carried me to the bathroom and placed me down on the toilet to pee, after i did my business he cleaned me and asked if i wanted a shower “ no thanks i can’t stand i’ll have one in the morning” “ Ok Y/N will you sleep with me tonight?” “of course i will Matt”

Matt changed the bedsheets and put me in his over sized top and some boxers, he put his boxers and pants back on as we laid in bed together to drift asleep.

We were interrupted by Nick coming in “ Y/N i get it you and Matt fuck now but i still need my cuddle buddy, also keep the fuck down kid.”

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris

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just-some-random-blogger · 10 months ago

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Accidental Targ

Scene III: i told you to hold my hand! | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, very sus and innappropriate boss-employee dynamics, low key sugar daddy!otto hightower vibes, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS I DID IT. I FINISHED IT 😫 Also, its come to my attention that perhaps the way i planned out everything geographically is ??? bad but no its not just roll with it AND!! remember yall voted for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i have a feeling you didnt read the prompt fully but whatever HAHAHAA i honestly have no idea where i meant to take this fic, so ???? enjoy?? HAHHAAH

Shoot me if I ever say it again, but for now: gods bless capitalism, specifically for it desecrating a national landmark.

Where once I was one of the people who protested against the building of the High Garden Centre, girl, was I thankful that the old ruins of the fucking Red Keep laid there as a little ol' artsy featurette.

"What's that sound?" Daemon asks as we stand from our spot.

I turn to my side, never before so relieved to hear and see, no more than two blocks away, a rave spilling out of a club, the very one Libby and I were at before we got into this shit show. "That, my prince, is called EDM."

I hurriedly run to Libby's side to pick her up, but Daemon does that himself. He get down and pulls the blue haired woman on his back, and I help him. At the same time, I feel a buzz from my satchel.

My phone!

Daemon watches me as I frantically claw for my device. The amount of texts and call notifications that pop up on my screen is overwhelming. I decide to just let it go off and grab Daemon's arm, "come on."

We walk down from the ruins, shifting through the shrubs and foliage around it. I catch the sight a mall cop and feel agitated when he looks over. He couldn't care less though, the site was open to the public after all, and with a literal club being right there, we were the least of his worries.

We pass the rusty chain fence surrounding it, and draw near Harrenhal (the club). Once we're there, a bunch of men hoot and holler at me. I ignore them as they say something about my 'Targaryen' hair and it dawns on me they were probably calling me princess and lady because I was still in a fucking Targaryen era dress.

Still, I ignore the stupid fucks as they ask to see my pretty skirt, opting to walk faster instead. I was horrified by how loud and violent Daemon's scream was.

He shouted so gutturally that I couldn't understand a lick of The High Valyrian flaming out of his mouth. The vein on his neck popped out and I literally had to hold him back from charging and dropping Libby.

"Daemon, please!" I whimper, heart racing, "Libby's still on you-"

"Grab her and I'll fucking ram steel down- COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY THAT-"

Steel? I look to his belt. Fucking seven hells, he brought Dark Sister?

I look back at him with wide eyes, feeling nauseous now that I've caught how maddened he looked.

In a panic, I gently pat his face while pulling his arm back, "Daemon, please."

He doesn't look at me.

My voice gets softer and my eyes water, "Daemon, I beg you."

He huffs and clenches his jaw, still not sparing me a glance.

"We don't have time for them," I whisper and keep my hand on his cheek, "I'm just going to connect to the club's wifi from here, then I'll can call us an Ubor."

Daemon does not tear his gaze from the men, who eventually waddle away to whatever sewer they came from, still hollering bullshit as they did.

"Kesan daor nārhēdegon naejot nyetodha aōha irosh," Daemon mutters. I will not forget to slit your throats.

The relief that washed over me was unparalleled when I booked an Ubor set to arrive in 3 minutes. I whimper and rub my eyes, "okay, not long now."

Daemon finally looks at me, still visibly pissed, and adjusts Libby on his back.

I wipe my face, "we're just going to get in the c-" Fuck... I should probably prepare him for the car.

"Okay," I raise my hands, "we're going to get in a metal..." I motion to the space, "... there's going to be a- a- carriage? But with no horse... but and when I get in, you just get in with me, okay?"

Daemon's expression is now one of confusion.

I sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, "it's going to be okay."

His lips curl, "... OK."

I screw my eyes shut and shake my head rapidly, "I mean alright. Alright! ALRIGHT!"

Daemon takes in my visible frustration and nods slowly, "OK."

To be honest, Daemon was a pretty good Ubor passenger, save for the fact his sword nearly cut me, Libby, him and the fucking car seats when he tried to sit without removing his scabbard first. We were lucky the driver seemed to be used to... ren fair people.

He also seemed to be used to driving people to the ER. I was too relieved to think realize how fucked up that kinda is in the moment. Needless to say, I gave him 5 stars and an extra tip.

With Dark Sister in my grip and Libby in Daemon's arms, we finally made it to Lannister Medical Center.

The moment we get there, I run inside the ER and break down at the first nurse I see. I infodump everything, how Libby got attacked, how Harwin lost her, how some maesters tried to help us, how she lost a lot of blood, how I'm afraid she's going to die, how Daemon ended up carrying her, and I just keep going up until I saw Libby's blue hair scattered on a stretcher and the nurse told me to sit down.

I didn't have much fight in me left to argue, so I sit myself down on the bench. But then I see the nurse speaking to Daemon, who, seemed to be explaining what had happened, and I panic all over again.

Before I could stand though, another nurse was there to accommodate me. He did a checkup on me, asked me how I was feeling, and asked if I needed anything to calm down.

I told him I was fine and proceeded to answer his other questions. Daemon eventually came to my side and eyed him.

The nurse gives me a nod and offers a smile, "you seem to be physically well. Just let yourself relax. The doctors have your friend; they'll do their best to help her."

"Thank you."

The nurse nods again. He gives me and Daemon one last look before walking off.

I grab Daemon's hand once it's just the two of us. I look up and shudder, "we did it."

He looks down at me, violet eyes solemn. He brings a hand to my cheek and swipes at my cheek, "ȳdra daor limagon."

"I don't know what that means," I mumble.

"I said don't cry, pretty girl," he kneels in front of me, "worrying will not save your friend."

I stare at him, feeling my heart race and belly roll because of the look he had. He brushes my silver hair back behind my shoulders, only intensifying the flurry in my stomach. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, suddenly, my stomach growls. Oh.

Daemon turns his eyes to my belly as I clutch it.

"You want something to eat... prince?"

Daemon reaches a hand out, "lead the way."

I take his hand, grab Dark Sister, and hand it to him. He fastens his scabbard as we exit the ER and I go through my satchel, fishing for my wallet. Just before I get it, I remember that I blew most of my money on the Ubor.

"Fuck," I curse and turn to Daemon, "I don't have enough money."

Daemon rests his hand on his sword and simply stairs.

"I don't have coin," I clarify. I look around the road and figure our chances of riding a bus at this hour was nonexistent. I give him a look, "do you mind walking home with me?"

Daemon raises a brow, "as opposed to swimming home with you?"

I raise my brows and sigh, "Daemon-"

"Lead the way," he nods and points, "I am not one to tire easily."

I nod and slice through air to drive a point, "okay. No matter what happens," I reach out to him, "you have to hold my hand, okay?"

He looks at my hand then my face, his violet eyes sparkle with amusement. He chuckles but he links his fingers between mine (overkill if you ask me). I'm glad goosebumps don't form.

Daemon smiles softly, "you take me for a child, riña?"

"This child knows how to cross the street," I squeeze his hand harder than necessary and begin to walk off, "I'm not sure you do, kekepa." Grandfather.

Daemon laughs, full-on throwing his head back, "how hard is it to cross? You jus-"

His words go dry when an empty school bus passes us. He was so stunned by the yellow contraption, I had to tug his arm to continue walking.

Just then, a Megatron looking-ass truck drives down the street. I hiss and curse the 14 wheeler for emitting such horrible smoke, eyeing it as it drives away.

Meanwhile, I catch the prince's stunned reaction and almost feel bad for finding it funny. Almost.

We arrive at my apartment about 20 minutes later.

I press the elevator button and turn to Daemon, "don't put your arm between the door, okay?"

Daemon gives me a look.

The elevator opens and we step inside. Daemon gives me a look, "we have lifts you know."

I pull my head back, "you do?"

"At the wall," Daemon retorts as the elevator door closes.

"The wall?" I think for a moment, "ahh. You're right."

A beat.

I knit my brows, "wait, you've been to the wall?"

"Of course I've been to the wall."

The moment we get to my place, relief washes over me. I take my shoes off and scoop my hair in front, "fucking rip this dress off me."

Without a single thought between his brows, Daemon's reaches out to undo the ties at the back of my dress.

Just before he does this, I hear him walk in with his boots and nearly have a heart attack when he passes my threshold.

"OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I turn and shove him back, "take your crusty boots off now!"

Daemon looks at me in bewilderment but walks back and doesn't protest as he removes his shoes. He places his shoes on the rack along with mine.

Not wasting time, he catches my arm and yanks me towards him. He spins me around and immediately undoes the back of my dress. I hastily begin to tug my dress down once I can.

He chuckles, "eager girl."

I rather literally jump out of my dress when I can. Pent-up rage overcomes me. I turn around and start kicking the dress away, releasing all my frustration and anger out on the thing. I curse 8th century Westeros and the Red Keep in particular and assault the object until I'm out of breath.

I proceed to jump onto my sofa and allow exhaustion to finally take over my being.

A second later, I catch Daemon's expression and realize, he probably thought he was going to get lucky when I asked him to basically strip me naked.

"Ahh," I get back on my feet, "sorry about," I point to the dress, "that."

Daemon says nothing as he steps closer. He reaches out for my hip and I swat his hand away. I shake my head, "this is my house."

He chuckles as I evade him on my way to the kitchen, which was not nearly as far as it should have been. The prince eyes the space, "yes. An impressive little room you've got." He follows after me, "I'd love to see the rest of it."

I look at him as I reach my fridge and open the door.

Daemon squints at the light that radiates on me. I cuss at the fact I only had cereal (no milk) and some vegetables that have gone bad. I grab the paper box and hand it to him. He blankly stares at it as I discard the vegetables.

Daemon's brows contort at he box, "it's cold."

I wash my hands, "yeah, refrigerators do that."

"Gra'-nola," he reads.

"Granola," I correct as I dry my hands on my shift.

I'm suddenly struck with the realization his grubby has have never seen antibacterial soap. I snatch the box from him and motion to the sink, "wash your hands."

Daemon turns to the sink and purses his lips.

For a second, I debate if he'd melt if he uses something antiseptic, but then figure I should still take my chances.

I prop the cereal on the counter and exemplify him how to wash his hands. Daemon, with slight reluctance, pumps some hand wash on his palm, opens the sink, and rinses.

I excitedly applaud him once he was done.

"A hand towel," he raises his dripping hands.

I look around even though I didn't have a hand towel. I shrug, "I usually just use my pants."

Daemon shakes his hands by the sink, "your pants?"

"Yeah. They're like clothes that you put on your-"

He grabs my shift and pulls me closer. He wipes his hands on it, "I know what pants are, princess."

I push him off and smirks as he dodges. I make a face, "well, I do so beg your pardon, your majesty."

The prince lets out a low laugh, "don't get too brazen, or I'll have you begging till you weep."

I quickly change the subject, "get that damned sword off your hip." I shoo him and rummage through my kitchen cabinets.

Daemon watches this and chuckles again. He tilts his head as he eyes my legs. He undoes his scabbard, sets it on my dining table, and pulls out a chair. He sits down just as I find a can of Sbam. Huzzah!

I grab a chopping board and open the can. A small smile spreads on the prince's lips as stares. But then, his expression drops when I shake, or try to shake, the processed meat out of the can.

I huff once I've succeeded, and I begin to cut the Sbam chunk, "you know this was in created during the war," I slice a piece, "it saved a lot of people from starvation."

"Which war?"

I freeze when he says this. I open my mouth then close it, unsure if recounting the details of world wars to him was a good idea, "you know what, never mind that."

Once I was done with the Sbam, I got a pan and heat it up. I get a plate and a loaf of bread, then place it on the table.

I click my tongue at the sight of his sword, "off the table!"

Daemon watches as I take Dark Sister and replace it with the plate and bread. I place the sword by the shoes and he takes the plastic wrapped bread. He feels the material and opens it, "what is this?"

"Bread," I retort, going back to my pan.

"No, I know that, but what's it wrapped with?"

I give him a quick look, "oh, plastic," I begin to cook the Sbam, "it's made of carbon... I think- I dunno- don't quote me on that."

Daemon opens the bag and takes a slice of bread. He pulls his had back, "it's sliced."

I beam and jump excitedly, "it is! It's sliced bread! Betty White is older than sliced bread! And so are you!"

Daemon ignores this as he sniffs the piece in his hand. He takes a bite then and makes a face, "why does it taste like that?"

"Like what?"

His brows knit and his eyes narrow, "like a pretender."

I burst into a laugh. I flip over the Sbam with a spatula, "imitation bread?"

"It wants so earnest to be bread," he pushes the loaf away and shakes his head, "but it clearly isn't."

I laugh even harder.

He snorts at my reaction. He smiles as leans back on his chair. A few moments later, he grows serious, "you ought to dismiss your royal baker."

Oh. My lips twitch and I chuckle under my breath, "ah, yes. My royal baker. Yes, I will dismiss my royal baker for making horrible sliced bread. Yes."

The Sbam was now cooked. I present it to him on a plate, "bon app-- ... I hope you like it."

Daemon leans forward to scrutinize the dish.

I press my lips into a line as I sit down next to him. I take a slice of imitation bread and fold in a slice of Sbam. I realize just how hungry I was after taking a bite. Through half-full mouth, I mutter, "it's good."

Daemon watches me and follows suit. He takes some bread and Sbam, then chomps.

I stop chewing. Wait, what if he gets an instant heart attack because his living fossil-self can't handle processed food?

He licks his lips and chews. I begin to grow more agitated as he makes a face.

"It's delicious," Daemon says, going in for another bite.

My agitation turns into shock, "really?!"

"Well, it's no roasted pork, but it'll suffice," he mutter between chews.

I let out a soft laugh and nod, "I'm glad it's enough for the prince."

"I'm honored the princess herself made it for me."

Aw, fuck. Who's gonna tell him?

There is a knock on my door. At the same time, my phone rings.

Daemon is alerted by the sound and I dash away to finally answer my phone.

"What is that?" the prince asks.

"It's my phone. Remember? You can call people with it."

Daemon narrows his eyes as I rummage my bag for my device. The knocking on the door gets louder.

I turn to the door, "just a minute."

I find my phone and feel my stomach drop at the caller ID. The banging on the door persists.

I answer the phone and head for the door, "hello?"

"Fucking hells!" the voice is worn and apparently worried, "where the fuck have you bee-"

"It's not you outside, is it?" I cut him off as I head for the door.

"What?! No! I'm in the fucking North, dammit! Your friends have been calling me nonstop, since fucking Sunday! -"

I open the door and my face falls. Standing before me is a man in a dark teal suit; his tie was loose, his stubble was thick, and he held what looked like a dozen bags in his hands.

"- You and Libby have been fucking missing for days! Where-"

"Mr. Hightower," I lower my phone as the man on the other end continues to chastise me.

Otto Hightower looks me up and down, then sighs, "out of the way."

Without another thought, I step back to let him in. He expertly slips out of his leather shoes then heads towards my sofa. He places all the bags on the coffee table. I follow after him.

I hear my name being shouted from my phone. I close the door and follow after Otto.

I listen in on the call again and I hiss when the voice pierces my ear drum, "Jon, calm down."

"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I BE CALM WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!?"

I begin to panic when Daemon walks over.

"Who is that?" Otto asks me. He notices Daemon, then makes a face, "who are you?"

I look at Otto, then Daemon, and dash over to the prince, grabbing his hand. I watch in real time the recognition and disbelief that floods the Targaryen's features as he watches the other slowly remove his tie.

"Libby and I got stuck in the ren-fair!" I reply to my phone.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL?!"

"MY PHONE DIED, JON!" I shout back a lie.

Otto's brow raises. He looks at me and mouths, "Jon?"

I ignore that and groan "LOOK! I'm fine! Libby's-- ... Libby's," I whisper softly, "in the ER-"

"THE ER-"

"I'M TAKING CARE OF HER!"

"WHY THE FUCK IS SHE IN THE ER?!"

"Libby's in the ER?" Otto mutters.

I raise a finger to answer my phone, "Jon, please. I'll explain everything tomorrow."

He screams my name and I have to rip my phone away from my ear again. I vaguely hear him rant about how I should explain why his sister is in the fucking ER.

"Jon, Jon, I love you but I have to go," I quip and immediately end the call. I turn on airplane mode and throw my phone on to the couch.

I release a breath and find myself pulling a smile as the man in the suit eyes me. He's about to speak, but Daemon beats him to it.

"What was that?" the prince asks, pulling me by the arm to face him.

I turn to him and make a face. It's Otto that answers for me, "her ex boyfriend."

I turn to Otto as he tilts his head and raises a brow, as if daring me to correct him.

I do, "my best friend's brother."

Daemon eyes Otto; the latter makes a face, "who used to your lover," he crosses his arms, "I'm offended you take his calls but not mine."

"And who are you?" Daemon hisses, stepping towards him.

Without missing a beat, Otto meets his gaze and scoffs, "who are you?"

Daemon's pulls his chin back and chuckles dryly. His expression screamed FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT.

I jump in front of him, my back presses his chest. I give a nervous laugh, "Mr. High- Director- Mr. Director- sir. This is Daemon."

Otto watches as I grip Daemon's hands behind me.

"And Daemon," I barely look at him over my shoulder, "this is... my... employe-"

"Otto Hightower," he cuts me off, bringing his hand into his breast pocket, "Director and CFO of King's Landing Holdings."

I wince, fuck.

"King's Landing?!" Daemon laughs out loud.

Otto produces a business card.

"It's a company!" I turn around and wave my hands, "it's a company! An establishment!"

Daemon does not tear his eyes away from him.

"He's my employer!" I explain.

Otto offers a piece of paper between his fingers.

The prince looks at it and slightly pushes me away, "what's he doing here then?"

"That's hardly any of your business," Otto retorts, tucking his business card back into his pocket.

Daemon laughs and finally turns to me. He mutters something in High Valyrian along the lines of 'let me do something' and 'stabbing'. I frantically shake my hand and push him back.

He thankfully relents and I sit him back down on my dining table.

My relief is fleeting when I realize the only reason Daemon didn't refute was because Otto was trailing right after me. My stomach drops when I feel a hand on my back.

Otto is right behind me. He places a few of the paper bags he brought on the table. He opens them, "I bought you dinner."

I turn to him, intent to tell him he shouldn't have.

"Amongst other things," he adds.

Daemon barks, "we have dinner."

"How did you even know I was home?" I say at the same time.

Otto's eyes flick to him, to the plate of Sbam on the table. His face is blank as looks back to me. He decides to remove his coat jacket, "I suppose you'd-" eyes Daemon, "-also think a candle equal to a campfire."

"Mister Hightower," I helplessly mutter.

He hangs his jacket on the backrest. He turns to me, "and you were missing--"

My expression sours.

"-- what did you expect me to do? I obviously utilized my connections. I'm offended you'd ask me such a thing."

Daemon mutters something in High Valyrian again.

"Of course, I had come see you myself," he looks at me through his lashes as rolls up his sleeves. My eyes dart to his sleeve tattoos and arm veins. When I begin to scrutinize the hairs on his skin, I realize I've stared to long.

In a panicked frenzy, I begin to unpack one of the paper bags. He, himself, brings out a stack of food containers and places them on the table.

The smell alone makes my stomach grumble.

Otto steps away and comes back with plates and cutlery. He places one plate in front of me, and has a prolonged stare at Daemon before placing the other in front of Daemon. He says, "I would hate for prince Daemon to be reduced to eating Sbam for dinner."

My expression drops. Daemon does not move an inch.

Otto turns to me and pulls out the chair. I take a moment before sitting down, because, really, did I have any other choice?

Otto opens the containers one by one and my mouth waters as I see lobster, lamb, and lemon cakes. He serves me meat and veggies, "I would assume you're not hurt like your friend."

I watch as he places food on my plate. I gulp before responding, "I'm just... tired."

"Then, I would also assume you'll not be attending work tomorrow," he takes my hand, putting the utensils in them. He scrapes a chair to my side and sits down next to me, urging me to eat with a motion.

I look at Mr. Hightower, "oh no- I will! I will-"

"You won't," he raises a hand, "see to it you're well rested."

I turn to my plate, feeling a flurry in my stomach over his words.

"Are you not going to serve your prince?" Daemon cuts in, raising his brows.

The lamb I was about to eat drops back to my plate.

The two glare, as if willing the other to spontaneously combust.

Before anything else could happen, I stand and reach out to Daemon's plate. I squeak when both grab me by the wrist.

My throat tightens.

My heart races when Daemon stands, "release her."

Otto raises his brows and tilts his head, "sit back down."

I rip my wrists out of their grips. Thankfully, neither put up a fight.

They stare at each other for what felt like ages. My agitation rockets when I see my boss begin to fidget with his hands the way he did when he was annoyed and ready to do something drastic.

I give Daemon a panicked look and grab his wrist, "kostilus." Please.

Daemon clenches his fist.

I continue to beg him until he sits.

I squeak when he grabs my chair by the seat and pulls me towards him. He mutters, "kesan daor emagon ao va bona run." I will not have you near that thing.

I turn to Director Hightower; I could see his annoyance building.

Fuck.

"Miste-" "Enjoy your meal then," he speaks as he stands. He grabs his coat and points, "I've bought some first aid things. I'm sure your friend can help you put that away."

I move to stand but Daemon stops me. He looks up at Otto in disgust, "do mind the steel contraptions on your way out."

I snap at Daemon, eyeing him hotly. He places a hand over my legs, ensuring I do not evade him. I watch as Mr. Hightower heads for the door, and in a split second decision, I turn to the prince and kiss him on the lips.

He is evidently taken aback, but it only takes him another second to get into it. Once he's put his guard down, I rip away from him and chase after my boss just as he exits my apartment.

"MR. HIGHTOWER!"

Otto turns around. I huff as I meet him just outside my door, "I'm really sorry about him. He's... he's just like that."

"You're not responsible for the actions of others," he retorts, nonchalant.

"I know. But still-"

"You are responsible for the company you keep," he adds.

I brush my silver hair back, "and you're not responsible for my well-being."

He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm your superior."

I press my lips into a thin line, deciding not to get into this conversation right now, "that, you are, Director."

We stare at each other for a moment. I examine his well-ironed suit, noticing how he didn't bother to fix his tie or buttons any more.

"I'll-"

"Is he not-" Daemon kicks the door open.

My eyes widen, "DAEMON-"

"-fucking gone yet?!" he points Dark Sister in an offensive stance. I yelp when he swings his weapon and scratches the door.

Otto's fight or flight instincts kick in and he takes flight down the hall.

"DAEMON-" I scream. I duck down and grab him by the torso, "STOP IT!"

Daemon screams out in High Valyrian. He laughs and lowers his sword, "yeah, you better run."

#daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon angst #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x modern!reader #hotd time travel au #hotd au #daemon crackfic #harwin fanfic #harwin strong fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #otto hightower fanfic #otto fanfic

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justlemmeadoreyou · 6 months ago

Note

Can I request for an blurb?? Never requested to anyone but I have this idea!!

So like H nd reader is in a relationship but H being famous nd all so because of that media nd his fans doesn't know he is in relationship nd to hide that thing he had to do PR relationship with someone else!! Nd he doesn't acknowledge that he had being ignoring reader nd spending more time with that pr girl!! So one day H came home nd reader was crying nd saying to H "do you love me?? Nd saying please don't leave me" nd H assure her she is it nd in few months he proposed the reader by saying how she is the only girl for him nd to never doubt his love for her!!

Ahh so sorry for such a lengthy request!! Nd it's okay if you don't wanna write!!:)

words: 4k (sorry!!!)

warnings: angst, lots of it. a fake pr, crying, some smut too. happy ending.

i changed this a bit, especially the ending. hope you don't hate this!

***

"I miss you," you whispered into the dark emptiness of your bedroom, clutching Harry's pillow tight. Another restless night alone while he was off being pictured with that pretty model for their fake relationship.

When would this torment end? Your heart ached constantly from the secrecy and lies shredding your real romance with Harry. All you wanted was to be open about your love...

It had started off so blissfully a year ago when you literally crashed into Harry outside of a coffee shop. You'd been rushing out the door, distracted and clumsy as always, when you rammed straight into a solid wall of human. Your face went bright red as you scrambled to pick up your scattered belongings.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I'm such a disaster, I seriously need to watch where I'm going..." you babbled, finally looking up into the kindest pair of green eyes you'd ever seen.

The man was watching you with an amused tilt to his soft lips. Something about his tousled chestnut hair and casual style felt vaguely familiar, though you couldn't quite place him.

"No worries at all, it's my fault. Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, sumptuous voice that made you shiver.

As realization dawned, your mortified expression deepened. "Oh wow...you're...I just headbutted Harry Styles in the stomach."

He laughed easily, dimples flashing as he bent to help gather your dropped papers. "Very impressive ab attack there. Been taking self-defense classes?"

You flushed again at his playful teasing, finding yourself surprisingly flustered by this international superstar's carefree charm. Most celebrities seemed to carry an air of inflated ego, but Harry radiated a humble warmth.

"Do you, er, come to this cafe often?" He asked curiously as you both stood. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear shyly, you shook your head. "No, I don't. I was just stopping in for a coffee on my way to work."

"I see." His gem-green eyes slowly traced over your features, as if admiring a fine work of art. The intensity of his gaze sent a tendril of heated awareness washing through you.

Before you could think better of it, you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "Would you...maybe want to get coffee? With me, I mean? Right now?"

Harry's full lips curved in an amused smile. "I'd love that, actually."

You could scarcely believe this was reality as you led him back inside the cafe, trying not to visibly swoon at the casual brush of his fingertips against the small of your back. For the next hour you talked and laughed more freely than you had in ages, feeling utterly intoxicated by Harry's mere presence. Everything about him radiated authenticity and vulnerability, a creative wildness simmering beneath his polished exterior. You felt like you could be yourself with him instead of carefully cultivating persona upon persona as you did with most people.

By the time you forced yourself to reluctantly leave for work, exchanging numbers with Harry, you were positively giddy. Dancing through your day in a euphoric bubble, you hardly noticed the pitying looks from coworkers.

"You know he's just gonna ghost you, right?" Julie the receptionist said flatly when you told her about your morning coffee date. "Have you seen how many girls fall all over themselves trying to get Harry Styles' attention? You're out of your league, sweetie."

You frowned at her harsh dose of reality. As if you weren't well aware of your lack of impressiveness compared to supermodels and actresses in Harry's orbit. Still, you couldn't shake the magnetic connection you'd felt with him, the bone-deep certainty that he was someone truly special.

Much to everyone's shock, Harry didn't ghost you. In fact, a simple text from him that evening asking how your day was led to a rapid-fire exchange of messages stretching long into the night. Over the next few weeks, your life revolved around hushed phone calls, secret rendezvous at out-of-the-way cafes and restaurants, and marathon conversations revealing every layer of one another.

Harry was purely intoxicating - a whirlwind of brooding intensity balanced with vivid spontaneity and an excellent sense of humor. He seemed utterly fascinated by every small detail you revealed about your life, respectful in a way that made him feel like a wonderful dream. And you fell harder and harder for Harry with each passing day. Something about his quiet attentiveness and insatiable curiosity about you made you feel cherished in a way you'd never experienced before. Gone were the shallow, vapid interactions you were accustomed to in the dating world. With Harry, you could truly be yourself - he somehow coaxed out your authentic self that you typically kept heavily guarded.

At the same time, you were in absolute awe of the whirlwind of depth and experiences that defined Harry's life. His stories of touring the globe, writing deeply personal lyrics, collaborating with musical icons - they all painted a vivid portrait of an artistic soul soaring to brilliant creative heights. You drank in every glimpse into his inner world like a lifeline to another realm of existence.

Yet whenever you'd express feeling unworthy of his profound love and admiration, Harry was quick to sweetly rebuff you.

"Y/N, you dazzle me more than anything I've experienced in this mad career of mine," he insisted one evening over a cozy home-cooked meal you'd prepared. Catching your hand across the table, his green gaze pinned you in place. "Don't you see? Your warmth, your light, your way of finding detailed beauty in such seemingly ordinary moments - that's what enchants me. You make me want to shed all the superficial trappings of fame and just...be."

You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, tumbling into an intimacy more profound than you'd ever imagined. If Harry hadn't told you himself that he'd only had a few relatively tame celebrity girlfriends in the past, you'd never have believed his immense experience from the way he worshiped you.

"So responsive, so gorgeous," he rasped against your swollen lips, calloused fingers stroking delirious patterns over your sensitized skin. "God, I could spend eternity between your legs”

Those stolen passionate encounters, tangled up and gasping one another's names with wild abandon, only added to your lovestruck infatuation. You felt deeply seen and cherished on a soul level, like you were both puzzle pieces finally slotting seamlessly together.

In the dreamy, lust-addled haze of new love, you almost didn't notice the growing tension in Harry's manner as typical relationship pressures began encroaching. Paparazzi grew increasingly aggressive in tracking his day-to-day movements whenever out in public. Well-meaning friends expressed concerns about the obvious strain he was under from lack of a romantic life in the public eye. And perhaps most troubling, his management team forcefully "suggested" it was time for him to embark on a high-profile PR romance to capitalize on album promotion and touring.

Harry had looked utterly fed up that evening when he broke the news, pacing in your living room.

You watched him apprehensively. "They want you to do...what? You mean...go along with a staged relationship? Like have a beard or something?"

"No! Absolutely not, I won't do it. I won't treat you like some secret, and I refuse to fake anything in my private life for publicity."

"Harry..." you tried to soothe him, rising to your feet and rubbing his tense shoulders. "I understand the pressures you're under-"

"No, you don't!" He rounded on you with surprising intensity. "You don't get it, Y/N. You are the best, most precious thing in my world - my safe harbor from all the bullshit fake expectations. I won't sully what we have with PR lies. I just...won't."

His words were at once incredibly romantic and terribly naive. As much as you longed to stay cocooned in the warm, intimate bubble of your relationship, you knew the real world would inevitably intrude. Harry was a public figure on a massive scale, his romantic life constantly scrutinized. For the sake of his livelihood, he might not have any choice but to bend to the publicity machine's demands.

***

Those first seeds of conflict only blossomed further over the following weeks as the PR relationship issue remained unresolved. You did your best to stay supportive and understanding, but it was a challenge keeping your own hurt and insecurities at bay.

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Harry groused one evening over a tense dinner. "So what if they want me to go out a few times with some model or actress, let the paps get pictures? It doesn't mean anything to me."

You poked at your food sullenly. "It's not that simple though, is it? Couldn't something like that, even if fake, seriously complicate things for us?"

He reached across to squeeze your hand. "Baby, you know you're the only person who matters to me. A little PR sham doesn't change how utterly mad I am about you."

But it did change things, whether Harry wanted to admit it or not. The striking difference in how he treated you, his real partner behind closed doors, compared to how he'd have to pretend with someone else for public consumption - it stung deep.

One night shortly after, you were cuddled up watching a movie when Harry's phone started incessantly buzzing. Pulling it out with a furrow in his brow, he quickly scanned a series of messages and emailed photos. An unmistakable look of chagrin crossed his face.

"What is it?" You asked, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

Harry sighed, shoulders slumping. "Looks like the publicity team is really pushing ahead. They've, uh, they've arranged for me to be caught having dinner with Kendall Jenner tomorrow night."

Your heart plummeted as an uneasy feeling settled over you. This was really happening - right before your eyes, your private intimacy was being infiltrated with PR lies.

"So you're...going to be going out with her? In public, on a fake date, while the whole world watches?" You tried and failed to keep the hurt out of your voice.

"Not a date!" Harry was quick to insist, shifting closer to pull you into his arms. "Y/N, you have to understand this doesn't mean anything. It's all just smoke and mirrors, love. You're my world, I promise."

You wanted so desperately to believe him. But the lingering ache still took root somewhere deep inside as you watched the paparazzi frenzy ignite over Harry's "outing" with Kendall. Photos of the two models laughing intimately over drinks and dinner plastered every gossip rag and website for weeks.

It soon became a narrative that followed Harry everywhere - probing reporters shouting questions about whether he and Kendall were officially an item now. Rabid fans prying him online, trying to get every new shred of detail on the new, perfect couple.

"Hey, come here," Harry murmured soothingly whenever he saw the sadness and uncertainty cloud your eyes. He'd pull you into his chest, peppering kisses over your face. "I'm yours, baby, only yours. None of that bloody circus matters to me, I hope you know that."

You wanted to have his quiet confidence, truly. The way Harry could compartmentalize the fake PR relationship and his very real feelings for you with such clear separation. But it didn't stop the anxiety slowly gnawing away at your trust and security.

Increasingly, special romantic gestures from Harry felt like overcompensation for all the public affection he was faking with Kendall. When he'd surprise you with extravagant getaways to exotic locales, you couldn't fully relax into the pampering without wondering how much of it was just hiding guilt. And his constant reaffirmations of his love and devotion started ringing hollow amidst the growing circus his life was becoming.

The worst of it came at one of his first concerts after the publicity whirlwind began. You'd been so looking forward to experiencing the screaming crowds in a whole new light as Harry's actual partner, not just a casual fan. But the huge video screens kept flashing candid photos and fake couple shots of Harry holding hands and hugging Kendall, selling their phony romance to the fans.

You couldn't hold back the tears slipping down your cheeks as Harry serenaded the arena full of thousands, having no choice but to play along with the charade on the world stage. He caught your eye for just a second during the encore, and his smile instantly morphed into a look of sheer sorrow and guilt, looking at your tear-ridden face. He knew you, even if he stood so much away from you. But there was nothing he could do then except push forward with the manufactured story.

That night after the concert, an emotional Harry fell into your arms the moment you were alone in his dressing room. He clung to you desperately, peppering apologies across your tear-stained and defeated face.

"God, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rasped, emerald eyes awash with remorse and frustration. "Seeing you hurting like that because of this bloody sham...it killed me. You have to know how madly in love I am with only you."

You nodded, finding it hard to speak past the lump in your throat. Of course you knew, deep down, that Harry loved you wholly. His attentiveness, the intense spark of intimacy and passion between you, the emotional connection - it was all achingly real. This PR relationship was merely a toxic byproduct of his celebrity, something massively unfortunate but not defining your actual bond.

And yet...Harry couldn't deny the growing chaos enveloping his personal life. The fake romance was now Priority One to his team, staged and milked for every ounce of publicity. Constant video calls and strategy sessions mapped out each calculated move - where Harry and Kendall would stage a coffee run for the paps, when they should be papped holding hands emerging from a nightclub, how often they should update their couple-y Instagram shots together.

Harry grew increasingly sullen and withdrawn the more deeply engrossed he became in maintaining the facade. And you couldn't ignore the mounting jealousy and hurt rapidly corroding, chipping away your self-esteem and faith in the relationship.

***

"Maybe...maybe we should take a break," you finally broached one afternoon after an especially grueling set of publicity demands. Harry's head whipped up from where he was moodily going over plans for an upcoming awards show appearance.

"What? Why would you say that?" There was an edge of panic in his tone. He looked shocked, but you knew it was a long time coming.

You shrugged. "Harry, can you honestly tell me you don't resent me at all for the toll this whole – charade has taken? That some part of you doesn't wish you could just live your life freely without me holding you back from giving publicity stunts like this your full effort?"

He immediately rushed to gather you into his arms. "No! Never, Y/N. You're my world, my everything. Without you, all this would mean nothing!”

Burying your face into the strength of his shoulder, you wished you could cling to his words and find comfort there once more. But the turmoil swirling around you was rapidly becoming too overpowering.

"I'm just...I'm so tired of feeling like an afterthought, Harry. Of being the dirty little secret you have to hide away while flaunting someone else to the world. I can't keep living like this, sinking into doubt and jealousy constantly."

Harry's arms tightened around you convulsively. "Don't say that, my love. You could never be an afterthought to me. I need you here, by my side, to keep me grounded and remind me of what's truly real."

Though his words warmed your heart, you found yourself pulling back to gaze at him searchingly. "Then prove it. Enough with the grand romantic gestures, the desperate promises. I need you to actually fight for me, for us, instead of just going along with everything. Either that, or–” the lump in your throat deepend, “ –you can let me go”

Harry was taken aback by your words. But still, there was a part of him that didn;t fully understand what you were going through. "You know it's not that simple, Y/N. One wrong move that tanks this publicity team's plans and my entire career could crater."

"So what?" you challenged, tilting your chin defiantly. Harry wasn't the only one being forced to make impossible choices. "Is the career really more important than your actual life, your happiness in a real relationship? Because I love you with everything, but I can't keep sacrificing my sense of self-worth and spinning out into reckless jealousy every waking moment just so you can have the best of both worlds."

"I...you have to understand, none of this publicity shite actually matters to me. Not really. It's all a smokescreen that will fade away eventually. But you, us - this love is my truth, my be all and end all. Don't give up on me, baby. I'll fix this, I swear it."

You wanted so badly to believe the desperation in Harry's voice. But the ache of sadness and insecurity had burrowed too deeply. What once would have swept you up in romantic adulation now just hollowed you out further.

"I really hope you can, Harry," you rasped, pulling away with immense reluctance. "Because I can't keep holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop much longer. This half-life just isn't enough anymore.I can't, Harry.I can't keep living like this."

Harry looked hurt now. He knew it was only a while before it all came shattering down, but the thought of Y/N walking away felt like a shard of glass lodged in his heart.

"From this moment on, things change," he rasped. "No more bowing to bloody publicists and image managers. My truth, our bond, comes before anything else. You're about to become my permanent bloody shadow, love."

A smile curved your lips at his words. Reaching up to trace the sharp edge of his chiseled jaw, you felt a wave of relief and renewed hope. "Well, I do make a devilishly charming shadow, if I say so myself."

Harry's gaze drank you in like a man rewarded with an infinite oasis after years of directionless wandering. "That you do, baby. No more hiding that radiant light of yours, yeah? "

He sealed the vow with a kiss that seared straight through to your bones. You clung to him, every brush of his hands and velvet tongue rekindling the deepest intimacy between you two.

When you finally pulled apart, chasing oxygen, Harry made an immediate move to sweep you up into his arms like a blushing bride. "Come on, love. Let's go remind the world of who they're dealing with, shall we?"

You looped your arms around his neck with a giddy laugh as he strode through the penthouse with you cradled protectively to his chest. Despite his determination, his hold was soft, cherishing. Like you were something infinitely precious to be handled with utmost care, or you would break.

Without explanation, Harry marched you both out and down to where a sleek black car was out front, the doorman quickly ushering you inside the backseat. Once the privacy partition rolled up, Harry immediately turned to you.

"I mean it, every word," he stated plainly. "No more deceptions or hiding our connection. From here it's full transparency and only the truth."

you felt overcome by tenderness and awe. "So...does that mean an end to the fake relationship with Kendall then?"

"Among other things," Harry confirmed without hesitation. To your surprise, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone and thumbed it open to the camera app, situating you both in the frame. "We're going to document and share every moment of us, the real us. Let my supporters and fans see who truly holds my heart before all others."

You blinked in astonishment as he looped an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies flush as the camera captured. Was this really happening? After all your heartbreak and insecurity brought on by that disastrous PR relationship, was Harry truly throwing it all to the wind?

That was clearly his intention as he leaned in to nuzzle your cheek dotingly, snapping pic after sweet pic of shameless embraces and intimate caresses being exchanged between you. Each time the shutter clicked he murmured loving adorations, his focus immovable.

"Gorgeous girl...my forever woman...heart and soul of my entire world..."

You blinked back tears. When was the last time you'd felt this elevated by Harry's worshiping? Your shaky exhales intermingled hotly as he maneuvered you fully into his lap, slanting his mouth hungrily across yours.

"My everything," he growled against your lips before kissing you breathless.

"Harry..." you finally managed to gasp out as you pulled apart, "what are you doing? If you post those shots, then-"

"Then the whole world will know I'm mad for you, and only you," he said, with nothing but seriousness and devotion in his voice, "No more closeting my actual partner away like a mistress to be hidden from disapproving eyes. You're the only romantic relationship fully grounded in truth that the world needs to be focused on."

You shivered at the assurance in his tone. This was really it - the definitive line in the sand. And with Harry looking at you the way he was, you couldn't find it in yourself to argue or question further. You simply melted into his heat, losing yourself in the incredible feeling of being staked as his claim.

With a few taps, Harry posted the first of intimate photos and captions that set the internet instantly ablaze. Breathy confessions of forever love intermingled with searing makeout shots - it was a rush of letting go of months of pent-up passion and adoration for the world to finally bear witness.

All the while, Harry refused to tear his stare from worshiping every inch of your body. His broad palms trailing over the exposed curves of your hips, waist, the swell of your breasts - anchoring you fully into the present.

Your social media was immediately swamped by a plethora of comments, tags and speculation over the tsunami wave of intimate reveals. Harry's fanbase seemed to have divided between celebration and outrage over their beloved idol being so thoroughly claimed by an average nobody.

More jarring, however, was the media/PR teams' explosive reactions. Both your phones blew up with frantic calls and enraged messages demanding explanations and emergency meetings. As expected, the team working to orchestrate Harry's fake relationship with Kendall were melting down over the sheer negligence of you both, and damage control now being initiated.

For a long while, you both simply ignored it, too immersed in devouring the rebirth of your connection to spare any attention elsewhere. You reveled in being subjected to Harry's fervent, undivided worshipping as his fingertips and lips swept across every velvet hollow and slope. His sensual assault was purposefully overwhelming, etching his permanent claim over your quivering form.

"They'll keep the noise up for a while, try spreading all sorts of misinformation and manipulation to regain control of the narrative," Harry finally mumbled without breaking the rhythm of stripping you bare and lavishing undivided attention over each exposed new expanse of satin flesh.

You shivered beneath him, and he tilted your chin up with a knuckle to capture your gaze, "But none of that shite matters now, okay? All that matters is that I’m all yours now. Only yours.:

And you were never letting him go.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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