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cupid-styles · 2 months

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renaissance (art teacher!yn x single dadrry)

in which y/n is harry's son's art teacher and he develops a big dumb crush on her. or: kids art teacher!yn x single dad!harry

word count: 6.5k

content warnings: none, just kids! some mentions of different types of familial relationships/dynamics (death of a parent)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

"Alright, kiddos, let's clean up our big, beautiful messes!"

Y/N claps her hands three times to signify that class is slowly crawling to an end. Her hour-and-a-half art course for kindergarteners is one of the longest and, if she's being honest, labor intensive classes that she teaches. It's set at the end of the school day from 2:30 pm to 4 pm, designed specifically for parents that work late or need to place for their little ones to go after school is over. Most of her students' parents are single and working full-time, or have intense careers like nursing or... whatever it is they do.

Y/N weaves her way through the small smattering of children ambling over to the sinks. She watches to make sure they're having an okay time with washing out their paint cups and rinsing their brushes, followed by using the correct amount of hand soap to scrub paint stains away.

(That one almost always requires extra help — to this day, she tries not to get frustrated when she thinks about Johnathan dumping an entire bottle of Dawn soap all over his clothes because he had a tiny bit of yellow marker on his tee-shirt. It was the price she paid to teach kids, though.)

"Clementine, do you need a little help?" she asks, peeking over to one of her quieter students. With fluttering lashes and a slightly baffled look on her face (Y/N could always tell when she was getting stressed out by the way her little eyebrows wrinkled together), Clementine nods, and Y/N makes quick work to appear behind her. She gets down to her level, where her Mary Jane-clad feet are resting atop a stool to help her reach the sink. "What's going on, lovebug?"

"'s everywhere," Clementine whines lightly, her bottom lip forming a sad pout. "Paint all over my hands!"

"I see that, sweetheart! But you know what?" Y/N makes a show of pretending to look side to side to ensure no one else can hear her. "It's okay if we get a little messy sometimes. The cool thing about everything we play with in this class is that it's colorful and pretty, and if it gets on our clothes or our bodies, it can get washed away."

Clementine considers this for a moment. Her hands are still stuck under the lukewarm stream of water, where the caked on hues of bright pink and orange are slowly starting to fade away. "What about on my art?" she asks slowly. "Will that get washed away?"

"Nope," Y/N shakes her head. "That stays forever. But on your clothes and body? It doesn't stand a chance."

"Oh. Okay."

And just like that, Clementine's minor stressed out moment floats away. Y/N smiles to herself as she pours a bit of soap into her small hands and helps her scrub them together, the lingering paint forming a pretty swirl down the drain.

"There you go, lovebug," she murmurs as she stands back up, giving her head a light pat, "Don't forget to grab your painting when mommy picks you up, okay?"

Clementine nods and scampers away to her table. She chuckles, placing her hands on her hips as she takes stock of the kids. She has about 10 minutes until it's officially time for dismissal, and most parents are good about picking them up right at 4 pm. She thinks about playing a game with them to keep them occupied, until she sees it.

Riley Styles. With globs of red paint in his curly, brown hair.

"Oh my god," Y/N mumbles to herself, rushing over to Riley's table, "Riley! Can I ask what happened here?"

She tries to keep her voice at a measured, not-freaked-out level, but it's kind of impossible given the child standing before her is dripping with paint.

"My cousin has red hair." Riley answers simply before shrugging his shoulders. "I think she uses paint, too."

"Ohhhh, I see," Y/N replies, pressing a gentle hand to his back, "Well, Riley, I think it would be best to clean this up. It look like it feels a little messy and icky."

Her stomach is bubbling with anxiety as she glances up at the clock. There's now eight minutes to dismissal time, and Riley's dad is never late.

"But you told Clementine that messes are okay—"

"Messes are always okay!" Y/N exclaims in an embarrassingly high-pitched voice, "Um, why don't you come with me to the bathroom, Riley?"

She doesn't give him an opportunity to reply before she's looping his hand with his and making quick steps to the faculty bathroom. Realizing she's just left 15 kindergartens in a room unsupervised with a plethora of art supplies, she peeks into Lea's classroom.

"Lea! Hey, um, Riley and I need to go to the bathroom to clean up a little mess! Can you keep an eye on my kids?"

Lea, who already has her jacket zipped up and looks like she's about to walk out to her car, furrows her eyebrows. Her eyes widen when Y/N backs up slightly to give her a view of Riley, who has been trailing red paint with every step they take.

"Oh my god!" she all but squeals, and Y/N's jaw clenches, "Yeah! Sure! No problem! Good luck with that mess, Riley!"

Y/N resists the urge to roll her eyes at her friend as they finally make it to the bathroom. She glances down at her watch, which tells her that took a whopping three minutes of their time. Swallowing tightly, she tries to figure out the best plan of attack, ultimately deciding that it would be best if she just attempted to wash his hair with soap and water while he stood there.

"Alright, Riley, can you try and stand still for me?" she asks, already pumping an absurd amount of hand soap into her hand, "I'm going to try to help get this mess out of your hair. Don't you miss those pretty curls you have?"

He shrugs as she begins to lather the soap between her hands. "I thought my cousin's hair was pretty."

"I'm sure!" she replies, massaging the foamy liquid into his hair. She's never been so thankful for washable paint before as the tints of red that latched onto his strands begin to wash away. "She probably didn't use paint though, and it's important that we keep the paint on our projects instead of our hair."

"Messes are okay, though. You said it."

She grimaces. Why do kids remember everything?

"You're right, messes are totally fine! But those are accidental messes. It's alright if we get it on our shirts or hands, but paint doesn't go in our hair. Does that make sense?"

His hair is completely saturated with hand soap now. She doesn't have a better way to wash it out (other than dunking the poor kid's head in the sink, which definitely feels unethical), so she's simply getting her hands wet and washing out section by section. It's going moderately well, especially since Riley's hair is on the shorter side, until the bathroom door bursts open, followed by angry footsteps.

"Riley!"

Y/N turns, her mouth forming an embarrassed o-shape when her eyes make contact with a seething Mr. Styles.

"Daddy!" Riley exclaims, rushing over to his dad. He latches his arms around his leg, giving them a squeeze, and getting the watered down red paint everywhere in his wake. Y/N winces.

"What are you doing alone with my son in a faculty bathroom?" He demands, jabbing his finger in Y/N's direction.

"I'm so sorry! H-he put red paint in his hair and I needed to wash it out, this was the only place I could do it since the kids' bathrooms aren't big enough—"

"And you didn't think to take another faculty member with you?" He spits angrily. Riley's now running around in circles, shaking his hair out like a dog. "How do I know you weren't doing anything—"

"I would never do anything inappropriate and you know that, Mr. Styles," Y/N cuts him off, feeling rage bubble up in her chest, "You've been sending Riley here for two years and this is the first time anything has ever happened. Until now, both you and him have only ever been happy with your experience here."

Mr. Styles clamps his jaw shut, his gaze falling to Riley, who's now pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back.

"It's washable, then?" he asks through a clenched jaw. "The paint?"

Y/N swallows, then nods once. "Yes. Everything we use is washable and water-soluble. It was coming out fine before."

He straightens his posture and runs his tongue over his two, slightly overlapped front teeth. "Okay. Riley, come on, we have to head home now."

Mr. Styles stretches out his hand and Riley takes it happily, his smaller one clutching his dad's fingers. The sight makes Y/N's stomach squeeze, but she quickly diverts her gaze and clears her throat.

"I can grab his backpack and jacket," she says, boots clicking against the tiled floors as she walks out of the bathroom. Her face is warm and she feels tears lining her eyes, but she refuses to let herself cry in front of a parent. What she said to Mr. Styles — it's true. She's been working at the studio for five years and nothing has ever happened. She supposes a fuck up was overdue, especially since she works with kids, but it doesn't lessen the sting any.

She's surprised when she hears footsteps behind her, realizing that they're following her. She swallows the lump of tears in her throat and flashes Lea a small, forced smile when she returns to her classroom. The rest of the kids are gone already, their belongings and paintings with them.

Y/N walks over to the cubbies, where Riley has his jacket and backpack hooked. Gently, she removes them, and turns to hand them to Mr. Styles.

"Again, I apologize for today. I was helping another student clean up and I must have missed this entirely," she says, trying her best to keep an even tone.

Mr. Styles nods awkwardly, taking Riley's stuff into the crook of his arm. "I, um, apologize for insinuating that you'd do anything... unsavory. I know you wouldn't. I just panicked."

"I understand completely." she replies, and she means it genuinely.

"Daddy?"

They both look down to see Riley tugging at his dad's pant leg.

"What does usavory mean?"

Mr. Styles and Y/N's heads both snap back up, eyes wide as they stare at each other.

"...Nothing," he says with a small smile, making Y/N's own lips curl into a grin, "I got you dino nuggets for dinner. Doesn't that sound yummy?"

Mr. Styles waves goodbye to her as he pulls Riley out of the classroom, chanting dino nuggets! dino nuggets! on his way out.

. . .

When Riley doesn't show up for class the following week, Y/N sincerely contemplates poking her eyes out with paintbrushes.

She feels stupidly embarrassed. It took her two full days to move on from the whole red-paint-in-the-hair thing, in which she replayed every single moment of Mr. Styles staring her down like he wanted to pummel her across the city. And while she thinks things ended on a relatively decent note, she wonders if he was just being polite and now he was pulling Riley out of her afterschool art classes.

She's never had a parent unenroll their kid for reasons that weren't out of her control. Moving? Sure. Wanting to try a new activity? Understandable. Parents wanting to spend more time with their child? Y/N wouldn't dream of getting upset over that. But Mr. Styles, who always showed up at 4 pm on the dot in his neatly pressed slacks and crisp button downs to retrieve Riley from class?

She didn't know much about him. Unlike other parents, Mr. Styles didn't care much for idle chatter or small talk. For most of her students, she knew at least something about their personal lives or home dynamics — Reese's mom was a pediatric nurse, Tyler had a twin sister who preferred playing soccer after school, and Sabrina's dad passed away when she was a baby, so she lived with her grandparents and mom.

Anything she put together about Riley's home life was from pure speculation: His mom never picked him up, so she wasn't sure she was in the picture. (She doesn't think Mr. Styles is married, either, considering he doesn't wear a wedding ring, but that's neither here nor there.) He alway showed up to the art studio in professional work clothes, which led Y/N to assume he came straight from wherever he worked. Riley never spoke about having any siblings, so she thinks he's an only child.

And that's about it.

She spends the entirety of class holding her breath and mentally preparing for her boss to ask to see her once all the kids were picked up. Nina would probably start out by thanking her for all of her hard work over the past five years, and then before Y/N even realized it was happening, would switch over to her lack of care for Riley and the complaints made on Mr. Styles' behalf. She could envision the words leaving her mouth now: And so, we have no choice but to let you go, Y/N.

Except... to her surprise, that doesn't happen. Nina doesn't come in after dismissal and she even tells her to drive safe on her way out of the building. There aren't any meetings placed on her schedule in the week that passes by before Y/N's next course with Riley's group, and she's damn near shocked when her students come bustling in seven days later, the curly haired boy included.

Today, Y/N teaches them about working with oil pastels. She breaks the medium down to a very basic, understandable level for kindergarteners and lets them go wild after her usual 15 minutes of instruction, instructing them to let their creative minds run wild. It's one of her favorite parts of teaching art to kids — they rarely overthink it, instead just allowing whatever flows to come through to the paper.

Unsurprisingly, oil pastels aren't as messy as paints, so there's less clean-up required than their previous unit. At 4, the parents arrive in quick succession, though when her eyes flit to the clock, she's surprised when Mr. Styles still hasn't picked Riley up by 4:07.

She doesn't like to bring attention to late parents (she's found that some kids get all knotted up about it, worrying that something happened), so she usually has a few busy activities prepared for this very event. She grabs her folder of coloring pages to bring over to Riley's table, who's busying himself with peeling glue off of the worn, messy table.

"Okay, Mr. Riley, what are we in the mood to color tonight?" she asks, flipping open the folder, "We have a garden, a firetruck, or a puppy!"

Riley silently contemplates the pictures in front of him and for a moment, Y/N feels like some childhood psychiatrist analyzing his decision. She has nothing to examine, though, beyond the fact that she's hoping he opts for the puppy or firetruck so she can work on the garden as they wait for Mr. Styles. With his small tongue poking out from the side of his mouth, Riley taps his finger decidedly on the puppy.

"This one, pwease."

She smiles and nods, stuffing the firetruck back in the folder and keeping the garden and puppy out. Riley always expressed good manners, and his sweet "pwease" and "tank you"'s always warmed her heart.

"Sounds like a plan," Y/N pulls the cup of used Crayola crayons so they're within easy access. She buys a new pack every semester because, as she expected from her very first year working here, kids love to destroy crayons, even if they don't always mean it. Even from just a few months of use, the current 64-array is in rough shape. "Do you have a puppy at home?"

Riley shakes his head as he immediately grabs a teal color to color in the fur. "No. I want one, but Daddy says no."

"Puppies are definitely hard to take care of," Y/N nods as she pulls out a light pink for the flowers on her page. "I have a cat. Her name is Biscuit."

"Biscuit?" Riley giggles. Y/N grins.

"Mhm. She loves to jump up on the kitchen counter and eat whatever food I make," she leans in closer and lowers her voice. "It's pretty naughty, if you ask me."

Riley's giggles erupt into full-fledged laughter. Y/N can't help but chuckle, too, but it's almost immediately cut off when Mr. Styles rushes in, looking frazzled with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Oh! Daddy's here, Riley," Y/N announces, standing up from the little table. Riley turns around with a grin, excited to see his dad as always.

"Hey!" Mr. Styles greets loudly, though his tone teeters on nervousness more than excitement. "I'm so sorry I was late. I had to, um... make a stop, and there was a lot of traffic. Rush hour."

Y/N nods understandingly, "That's alright. Riley, do you wanna show Daddy what you made today?"

"Actually, uh, one sec bud— why don't you keep coloring that... blue puppy, huh?" Mr. Styles's eyes peer over the page he's diligently working on, an expression of confusion making Y/N press her lips into a small smile. Completely content, Riley continues on, and Mr. Styles darts his eyes back over to Y/N. "Um, do you have a moment?"

She nods, swallowing harshly. She assumes this is it — the moment when he tells her that he's pulling Riley out of the program because of her unprofessionalism. It kind of hardens the blow a bit more given the massive flowers in his hand, which he assumes are for a girlfriend at home, maybe Riley's step-mom to-be. Or maybe he's trying to work things out with his birth mom. It's none of Y/N's business, but for some reason the thoughts swirl around in her brain, making her feel all the same — anxious, worried, self-conscious, and even a little down.

She leads him to the corner where her desk is so they're able to speak quietly and freely, out of Riley's earshot. Mr. Styles doesn't say anything for a brief minute. He's always been quite kind to her, so she figures he's trying to figure out the nicest way to say, "you're the worst art teacher and I never want my kid to be around you ever again."

"These are for you," he says, stretching his arm out to hand Y/N the flowers. Her eyes go so wide they feel like they could pop out of her head. It takes a second for her brain to compute the words and he looks at her expectedly, waiting for her to accept them. Finally, she does, hand clutching the brown wrapping around the excessive bouquet of stems. (Seriously, there's at least 25 in here.) "I wanted to apologize for last week. Again. It was... so rude of me to say anything even remotely close to that. You've been nothing but a bright light in mine and Riley's lives and I was just having an awful day already, and... kids are kids, they do silly things, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Y/N's eyebrows still feel like they're glued to her hairline. She's beyond surprised. In her years of working with kids, she's had parents say way worse things to her, and she never received an apology for any of it.

"Oh... Mr. Styles, this is—"

"Harry." he cuts her off, a wrinkle forming between his brows. "You can call me Harry."

She nods slowly, still processing the information. "Harry, this is very kind of you, but so, completely unnecessary. I didn't— I love Riley, he's a great kid, and I was worried you didn't want him to come back when he wasn't here last week."

Harry quickly shakes his head. "No, no. He had the flu. Ever since he started kindergarten, he's been getting sick left and right."

"Oh," Y/N says dumbly, beginning to realize that she worried herself sick for a week over quite literally... nothing. "Oh. That makes a lot more sense."

He chuckles and stuffs his hands into the pocket of his slacks. "Yeah. So, anyway, I hope you accept my apology, and even if you don't, I understand. Just know that I'll have Riley try to dye his hair blue next time or something," he teases, his face instantly falling the second the words leave his mouth. "That was a joke. I'd never do that."

Y/N laughs. "See, and I think pink would fit his complexion better."

Harry grins widely, and she realizes she's never noticed the cute little dimple that pops out of his cheek when he does.

She secretly hopes she gets to make it happen again sometime soon.

. . .

"How was Riley today?"

Y/N smiles knowingly at Harry as she wipes off one of the empty tables. "You know the answer to that. You don't have to ask."

Harry shrugs, putting his hands up in mock defense. He still has one of the Clorox wipes in his hand, quickly returning to cleaning off the crayon- and paint brushed-filled cups.

"I just like to make sure he isn't a complete menace, that's all."

"He's never a menace," Y/N replies, tossing the wipe in the garbage, "He's always very well behaved and well mannered. Kind of wondering if you built him up in a lab."

Harry chuckles. "Nope. Not quite how those things work."

Y/N's cheeks warm so she turns on her heel to glance up at the clock in the front of the classroom. It's edging closer to 4:30, which is about as long as she likes to stay after work. She always makes quick work of cleaning up the floors and tables, de-sanitizing them little kid germs for her 11 am disabled adult class tomorrow morning.

Ever since she and Harry had that chat with the enormous bouquet of flowers (they're all nearly wilted by now, but Y/N refuses to just throw them out), Harry comes to get Riley a few minutes after 4. By then, Riley's the only kid left, save for one or two on days with bad weather. Y/N will have them set up with their coloring pages and, instead of immediately helping Riley pack his things up to leave, Harry just... sticks around. Riley doesn't mind because he adores the different print-outs he gets to choose from, and Y/N can't help the way her heart hammers in her chest as Harry offers to help her clean up or ask about her day.

It's been nearly a month of this — once a week, dancing around tiny tables and conversations accompanied by the scent of Clorox — but Y/N secretly hopes that it's because Harry wants to spend time with her. She doesn't see any other reason why he'd do it, but she doesn't want to seem cocky, either.

"Okay, let's get you two out of here. It's already dark." Y/N announces as she unlocks her small closet in the corner, pulling her coat and bag out.

"Is it alright if we walk you to your car?" Harry asks.

She turns around to see Harry helping Riley zip his jacket up. The sight makes her chest tighten. The love he has for his son is so incredibly sweet that it makes her feel crazy some days.

"Um... sure, if it's not too much," she eventually replies, swallowing harshly, "I'm just a few rows back."

Harry nods and stands up from his place on the floor. He reaches down, a silent request for Riley to fit his smaller hand in his.

"Ri, what do you say to Ms Y/N for all the cool coloring pages?"

"Tank you!" he exclaims, his free hand in a tight fist, wrinkling today's coloring of a dinosaur.

"You're very welcome, cutie! I love that you made the dinosaur purple today." Y/N says with a grin. She follows them out, but not before turning all the lights off and locking the door.

"Daddy puts all my pictures on the refrig—refig—refigerator?"

"Refrigerator," Harry says as they walk down the empty hallway, "But close. Good job, bud."

Riley looks up at his dad with a grin. "Yeah! Daddy puts them all up. He says they're pwetty."

"They are pretty." Y/N nods, agreeing with a smile.

"He says Miss Y/N's pwetty too, and that's why we always stay late now—"

"Ah!" Harry yelps, cutting Riley off with an embarrassed flush. Y/N presses her mouth into a line nervously, trying to hide the excited smile curling at her lips. The conversation ends after that, though Y/N has trouble ignoring the butterflies flapping in her tummy. She clears her throat when they approach her car, her mitten-clad hands pressing the 'unlock' button on her keys.

"This is me," she says, pulling open the passenger's seat door to put her bag in.

"I'm so sorry," Harry rushes out. "I— that's not why we stay. Well, it is. Well, I mean, I think you're very nice and I like being around you, and I do think you're pretty, however I'm not trying to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I just— I, um. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Y/N replies, this time allowing the smile to flower over her face, "We can always... we don't have to just hang out here. Like, we can get a coffee or something. Not in the company of your very sweet child."

He scoffs playfully, nevertheless pulling his phone out and opening his contacts. Hesitantly, he hands it to Y/N, who pulls off her mitten before accepting it and putting her information in.

"Text me when you wanna get together," she says as she gives it back to him. "Also, for the record. I think you're pwetty, too."

. . .

Harry texts her the following morning: I haven't asked someone out on a date in a long time, so I'm a little rusty... would you want to get dinner with me on Saturday night?

Y/N, who learned the whole wait-10-minutes-before-you-text-back thing back in college, doesn't even let her screen go dark before she messages him to say that Saturday sounds perfect, and he did a great job.

On Saturday evening, he picks her up at 7 pm on the dot. She's not sure what she was expecting, but she definitely didn't anticipate him getting out of his car on such a dreary, cold evening, ringing her doorbell, and bringing her yet another bouquet of flowers. She tries her best to hide the fact that she's shocked by his presence on her doorstep, her boots clacking against the wood floors of her rental, as she promises him she'll be back in a second once she puts them in some water.

Gentlemanly as ever, he escorts her to his car, a sleek, black sedan. She's not sure what he does for work and assumes he'll tell her tonight, but it's apparent that he has money — she doesn't think she's seen Riley in the same outfit twice and he's always showing up to pick-up in a stylish suit that may cost Y/N's entire biweekly salary.

They make slightly awkward, first date small talk on the way to the restaurant, which feels silly for both of them considering they know each other outside of this.

"What did you do today?" Harry asks, and Y/N's not quite sure how to say "I stayed inside all day doing nothing" without sounding like an elderly woman.

"Um, caught up on some TV. Painted a bit. Nothing too exciting, really. How about you?"

"Riley and I went to a kids science museum. It was fun, he enjoyed it," he replies, tapping his thumbs against the leather of the steering wheel. "Do you do a lot of art outside of work?"

Y/N nods, "Oh, yeah. I went to school for it. I actually wanted to be a museum curator."

"So how'd you end up working with snotty-nosed brats like my kid?" he asks teasingly. Y/N laughs.

"It was supposed to be a side gig until I found something more permanent, but... I started five years ago and got too attached, I suppose."

Harry hums. "Well, you're great at what you do. I've only seen you work with kids, obviously, but I'm always impressed with you."

Y/N shrugs, trying her best not to seem slightly overwhelmed by his compliment. He had a habit of doing that — making her feel dizzy and melty, all because he looked at her for a beat too long or said something she wasn't expecting.

"Thank you. It's nothing special, though," she says softly, swallowing tightly, "What do you do? I don't think I've ever asked."

"I'm in finances. It's incredibly boring," he replies almost instantly, as if it's a knee-jerk reaction. "But, um... pays the bills. You know how it goes."

It feels like an add-on, but nonetheless, Y/N nods understandingly. It seems like it does a lot more than pay the bills, but she doesn't question it.

The rest of the drive is on the quieter side. It makes Y/N's stomach bubble with anxiety, wondering if she's being too boring and attempting to come up with talking points that fall flat — every time she thinks of a question, she talks herself out of it, assuming it would sound silly leaving her lips.

Thankfully, Harry pulls into a parking spot not 10 minutes later. They're in a quaint part of town and, despite the holidays coming and going, the streets are still lit up with pretty snowflake displays. It's on the quieter side, which Y/N also appreciates — considering the fact that she already assumed Harry was fairly wealthy, she had worries that he'd take her somewhere far too fancy.

He looks slightly dejected for some reason when Y/N gets out of the car, burying her hands in the pockets of her jacket. He hurries over to where she's standing on the sidewalk, locking the car with the key fob.

"You look like you're freezing, I'm so sorry," he mumbles, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. It's an act he wouldn't do under any other circumstance if she wasn't all but shaking. "I should've dropped you off at the restaurant."

Y/N shakes her head, "No, don't be silly. Where are we going, anyway?"

He gives her shoulders a small squeeze as he guides her down the sidewalk. "Well, you mentioned not being able to find a decent sushi place nearby. This has been a favorite of mine for a few years."

She glances up at him, a look of confusion on her face. "I said that?"

"Yes," he chuckles. "A few weeks back."

She knows it's true — she gets a mean sushi craving at least once a week but has yet to dine at a spot that she dubs her go-to. She tries to think back to their conversations over the past month or so, but it's a fruitless effort, especially once he holds the door open for her, his large hand pressed against the small of her back. Immediately, the warmth of the restaurant is a welcomed sensation, but the feeling of his touch feels even more delicious.

"Reservation for Styles." he says to the hostess, who, without even looking down at the book on the podium, grabs two menus and walks them over to their table. Y/N's thankful that they're placed in a back corner, where she can cozy up and, perhaps slightly unattractively, stuff her face with spicy tuna rolls and sashimi until she can barely breathe.

"This place looks incredible, Harry," Y/N says softly as she looks over the delicate menu. "You come here often?"

She only says it because the prices are on the more expensive side, so it's difficult for her to imagine casually ordering in from here. She glances up to see him shrugging his shoulders lightly, eyes still glued to the menu.

"Every now and then." he answers vaguely.

As if on cue, a waiter approaches their table, placing down a bottle of wine.

"Your usual, Mr. Styles," he says, and Y/N swears she watches Harry's jaw clench, "Shall we do another tasting menu tonight?"

Her eyebrows furrow and a zap of anxiety electrifies her chest. Clearly, he does come here often. Why would he lie to her then? Was this where he took all his first dates? Y/N clears her throat uncomfortably, shifting on her bum as she starts to let her mind spiral. Suddenly, she feels like just another pawn in a man's game.

"Give us a few minutes, please. No tasting menu tonight, we'll be ordering entrees." Harry says curtly. The waiter nods with a smile and leaves them be.

Without thinking much, Y/N leans over the length of the table, the bones of her elbows pressing into the bright red tablecloth.

"Do you always take girls here?" she demands, a bite to her tone. Harry's head snaps up with wide eyes.

"What? No, why would you—"

"Because you said you come here 'every now and then', but the waitstaff knows your wine order and asked if you wanted a tasting menu again," Y/N replies briskly, blinking at the man in front of her. "You know, I'm not just some girl you can mess around with—"

"Y/N," Harry breathes, shaking his head. "No. No. It's not like that at all. I take my employees here quite frequently and do business dinners here. I'm aware that it's on the expensive side and I just... money is an awkward subject."

"Well, it's even more awkward when you pretend like you don't have any—"

"I wasn't pretending," he mutters, swallowing tightly. "I know you're not like that, but I haven't dated in a long time. Partially because of Riley, but also because people I've been with have only cared about the money. So I just try not to let it be a focal point, especially on the first date. I'm sorry if I didn't do a good job of that."

Y/N's stomach plummets. She feels sick — she hates that she assumed the worst out of him, letting her own dating traumas get in the way of him just trying to protect himself. God, she was the worst first date ever.

"I'm so sorry," Y/N breathes out shakily. "I'm being an asshole."

"You're not." Harry mumbles as he looks down at his lap. "Just... first date jitters, maybe?"

She smiles gently. "Can we start over?" Harry flicks his eyes up at look at her. "I like you, Harry, and I really, really want this to go well."

She watches as his throat bobs, a smile curling at his lips.

"So, Y/N. What is it that you do for work again?"

. . .

Harry feels like he's known Y/N for his entire life.

When they leave the restaurant (she attempts to put her card down and he can't help but snicker at her before explaining that they already have his on file), her hand curls around his as they walk back to the car. It makes his entire body erupt into flames as their palms press against one another's, intertwining their fingers tightly. Their shoulders bump into each other's with lopsided, goofy smiles on their lips.

"Tonight was fun." she says as they approach his parked car. He gives her hand a final squeeze before unlocking the doors.

"It was," Harry echoes her sentiment. They separate briefly to get into the vehicle; Harry immediately turning it on to crank the heat up. "Would you wanna do it again sometime?"

"Yeah. That would be nice." She nods, grinning. "What did Riley get up to this evening?"

He chuckles, "He's with the babysitter for the evening. She's used to my late nights with business dinners."

Y/N hums, peeling her hands out of her jacket pockets now that they're a little less chilly. "So you're not in a hurry to get home, then?"

Harry's chest dings with a bead of nervousness. He swallows and flexes his hands in his lap.

"Sort of. Riley has swimming lessons in the morning."

It's not a complete lie. Riley does have swimming lessons, but Harry wants to stay out with Y/N more than anything. He's not in any kind of rush — he's just anxious about what she's thinking about proposing after not dating anyone since his son was born.

"Oh, sure," she smiles, and Harry's surprised by the way her face maintains its happy composure. "Well, we can just end the night here if you need to get back. No worries."

That makes Harry feel bad — the fact that she's just so incredibly understanding, even if he's feeding her excuses based on his own insecurities. He clears his throat awkwardly and attempts to shift in his seat to face her.

"I haven't done this in a long time," Harry blurts out. "And I'm very nervous."

Y/N's face crinkles into an adorable smile. "The date is over, Harry. I thought we established that we had a good time."

"We did!" he rushes, lifting his hand to run it through his hair, "No, we did. I had an incredible time with you. I really like you."

"So what are you nervous about?" she asks softly, reaching out to take his hand into hers.

That.

That's what he's nervous about.

"It's just... it's been awhile since I've liked anyone. Since I've... touched anyone." His throat bobs and his eyebrows shoot up as he realizes the insinuation of his words. "Not like that! Well, yes, like that, but— I meant, not just sexually. Holding hands. Kissing. We don't have to do a single thing anytime soon, but I haven't done this in years."

"You're nervous about physical touch?" Y/N says gently, her voice soft. He nods. "That's fine, Harry. Like you said, we don't have to do anything anytime soon. We can go at your pace, whatever that means."

"I... I want to kiss you, though," he admits in a raspy tone. "I just don't know... how."

Y/N's heart feels like it shatters into a million pieces. With a thumping chest, she leans into his side over the middle console and gently takes his cheek into her palm. His face feels cold from the chilly winter evening and he can't help but press into the warm, comforting feel of her touch. His eyes flutter shut and she smiles, nibbling on her bottom lip as adoration fills every inch of her body.

"Can I?" she whispers, punctuating her question with a nervous swallow, "You can say no. I just... I'd like to try."

"Please."

She's hesitant in her movements, not wanting to overwhelm him as she slowly inches closer. She tilts her head ever so slightly and presses her lips to his raspberry ones, eyes flittering closed as fireworks explode between their chests. It's perfect — it's slow, and it's leery as both of them try to find a comfortable pace, but of all the first kisses she's ever had, she's positive this is the best one she'll ever experience.

They sit in Harry's car kissing until Y/N's breathless. Neither of them know how long it's been but eventually, she breaks it apart, panting quietly through spit swollen lips. He keeps his forehead pressed against hers with a dopey smile.

"'s good," he mumbles, and she mimics his grin, "That was... yeah. It was so good."

She giggles and her tummy feels like it's filled with butterflies and carbonated bubbles and excited tingles.

"So good." she echoes.

He's surging forward with a grin to reconnect their lips not a moment later, and they're both positive they've never been so content before.

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months

Note

how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival.

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two.

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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1K notes · View notes

alicedrawslesmis · 3 months

Note

(sorry this is from a week ago but) Wait, what's going on right now that's complicated with Amazonian farmers' land rights?

Not farmers, indigenous people

See, recently they put a new law through congress that severely reduces indigenous land to the borders established during the late dictatorship, or immediately post-dictatorship, in 1988. An absolute joke of a border that was dreamed up by some military assholes. People in america may recognize this type of society from the times of westward expansion and think this is a thing of the past because for you guys it is. But here it is a reality. Murder is rampant. The reach of the law is incredibly limited. Government is just too weak and landowners basically run things. THAT'S WHY it's so important to donate directly to the native peoples instead of random NGOs because native people are fucking there and the more power they hold in the land the safer the land will be from agroindustrial expansion.

Well the law was vetoed by the the president and the Supremo Tribunal Federal, aka supreme federal court, labeled it as unconstitutional. Which it is, because our 1988 constitution describes native american land rights in some of its first articles. We thought this would be it for the law

But then the senate (that already overrepresents landowners in rural states) just went along and approved it anyway. I had no idea they could approve something unconstitutional. The progressives and particularly the socialists are fighting this in court. But it happens that for now the legal border is the severely reduced version.

Doesn't mean they'll just give up, because as it happens we don't have any stand your ground laws so even if you own a piece of land, you cannot legally speaking just shoot everyone there. Or attack or threaten them in any way. They'll just have long legal battles individually for the rights to occupy land based on use. Also the Xingu national park, the largest preserved land of the Amazon described as 'larger than Belgium', is being encroached by huge farms that are poisoning their water supply. The border is Visible. I'll try to find video of it but essentially you have a forest and a desert separated by a strict line.

Just last week in the south of Bahia (not the Amazon, let me explain more about the Amazon situation in a bit) Hãhãhãe leadership Nega Muniz Pataxó was shot and killed by an armed militia group that invaded and occupied the Caramuru territory.

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The situation in the Amazon, specifically the yanomami territory in Roraima our northernmost state, aka deep forest, is more dire than average given difficulty of access, sheer size, and government abandonment. It's a place that depends on government aid for medicine. It's land that is being systematically invaded by gold miners, pandemic, toxins from nearby farmlands, wood extraction etc. (wood extration is rampant everywhere tho). Early 2023 saw a massive federal government operation by now president Lula to empty the mines and try to look for where funding comes from. Yanomami land is still being invaded to this day, the struggle is ongoing.

The yanomamis need support right now more than any other. Last year saw a massive heat wave that (well, one, caused a girl named Ana Clara Machado to die during the Taylor Swift concert. This is unrelated but I feel like not enough foreign media covered this, Taylor even lied about it as well.) dried up a lot of rivers, killed a LOT of fresh water animals including an unprecedented amount of pink dolphins. Access that was already hard became damn near impossible without boats. I cannot overstate how many pink dolphins were found dead.

Another technique that landowners use to clear space for farms is to just set things on fire and then occupy the empty land, which they legally can do to land that was naturally burned in a forest fire. It happened that Pantanal, another national park of swampland, was massively devastated by fires last year too

this article is from 2020, the year that the worst fire happened, but in 2023 there was another one. It's been happening yearly now due to a) deliberate action and b) climate change aggravation.

And this is not nearly all. Just off the top of my head. If you speak portuguese I recommend following the APIB or the COIAB on instagram to keep up with the news. The FUNAI is the government branch of indigenous organization, but it's not generally that well liked. Still.

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miley1442111 · 20 days

Text

motherly instincts- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: aaron's mother can only be helpful to you postpartum, right?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: fluff, body shaming, feeling of discomfort, postpartum, reader is postpartum and aaron's wife.

You were pregnant. It wasn’t exactly planned, but Aaron and you were ecstatic all the same. Jack was excited to have a new sibling and he was totally ok with it. At your wedding, you had adopted Jack, meaning you were already one of his legal guardians. The only problem was telling everyone. The team were ecstatic for you, Jj giving you tips, Spencer sending various articles on pregnancy and childbirth, Derek promising his babysitting service, Emily promising to come and help out in anyway, and Penelope sending you cute baby clothes ideas (and buying them for you).

But telling Aaron’s mother.

That was a shit show.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re pregnant?” she repeated. The lack of emotion in her face and voice made you feel practically sick. “Why?”

“Mother-”

“Is Jack not enough for her?” She asked like you weren't even there.

You took a deep breath. “I adore Jack, you know I do. We weren’t exactly planning this-” Wrong thing to say.

“So you don't want the child?”

Aaron rolled his eyes, taking your hand in his.

“Of course we want our child!” You exclaimed and she looked taken aback.

“Aaron, she’s shouting at me!”

“I will be too if you don’t stop this mother.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had since reached out and apologised, so you felt that it was ok to let her come and stay for the week, they were her grandchildren too.

You had given birth to twins, two girls. You named them Elizabeth (Beth for short) and Natalie (Nat for short). You both loved both of them so much. They had taken Aaron’s dark hair, and your eyes. They were beautiful. You adored them. Aaron adored them. Jack adored them.

Aaron’s mother… not so much.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 1

She had already bulldozed through your regular routine. You were exhausted from literally growing two children and then pushing them out and into the world. Aaron understood that. Jack understood that. Aaron’s mother did not. She expected you to just be fine. She expected you to do all the cooking and cleaning while she took care of your newborn babies. Aaron basically had to put her in a time out and lock the door to the nursery to let you just be with your children for more than a few minutes. Jack loved coming in to see his sisters whenever he could, which meant Ms. Hotchner also had to be allowed in. So, you were basically banished unless you wanted to argue, and trust me, you didn’t want to argue with that woman.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aaron?” You mumbled as you climbed into bed beside him, both the twins and Jack down for the night.

“Yes honey?” he whispered, wrapping you in his arms.

“Do you think you could talk to your mother? Just about letting me have some down time with the twins?”

“Of course darling, I didn’t realise it was that bad,” he looked down at you. Even through the darkness of the room, you could see the guilt on his face.

“It’s not!” You lied. “Just… I don’t know,” You sighed. “It doesn't matter, sorry for worrying you. You shouldn’t say anything.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, scepticism clear in his voice. “I’m happy to talk to her. She’s only supposed to be here if she’s helping. If she’s not helping we can ask her to go home.”

“Aaron, it’s alright, I promise.”

“Well, tell me if it gets bad, alright? I know she can be overbearing sometimes,” The amount of care and love present in his voice and words almost brought you to tears, so you just nodded and pressed your head into his chest. You felt him chuckle. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

After a few minutes of his comforting voice and soft hands lulling you into drowsiness, you were asleep.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the baby monitor went off and you slept through the cries of your children, Aaron smiled. He was happy you were getting sleep. Insomnia had been the prevailing issue of your pregnancy, and it drove you crazy. He got up, swaddled and fed his babies, checked in on Jack and got himself a glass of water. He lay down beside you again and cupped your cheek. You were sound-asleep as he looked at you with all the love in the world.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 2

“Did you sleep?” You asked your husband. “I’m so sorry I slept through it, I just… next time you should wake me up, ok? I’m so sorry-”

He cut you off with a kiss. “I was fine, don’t worry. I’m glad you’re finally getting some sleep,” he smiled playfully at your glare.

“I can take Jack to school if you want to lounge around for a bit?” You offered, hopeful that he would let you. He shook his head and dipped down, kissing you again.

“I’m fine. I’ll walk him there, then go for a run.”

“That’s a brilliant idea!” Hotch’s mother exclaimed. “She’ll go for a run and drop Jack off. She needs to start getting rid of the baby fat.”

Your jaw genuinely dropped. There was no way anyone would have the nerve to say that to you. Not when you were literal weeks postpartum. You knew you didn’t look the same as before, you hadn’t expected to. But to be confronted with it so blatantly was a stab into your confidence.

Aaron’s face hardened and solidified into one of irritation and annoyance. “What did you just say to my wife?”

“Aaron. We can’t lie to her! It would just be a disservice,” your mother-in-law said as she stood by the coffee machine, a frown on her lips. “It’s only a few miles-”

“If you ever think about talking about my wife in that way I will not hesitate to block your number. You can pack your bags Mother. I’ll call you a taxi,” Aaron got his phone out, a comforting hand on your waist.

“Aaron, that’s a bit drastic-” You tried but his voice cut yours off, ordering a taxi to your house. He thanked the person on the line and smiled at you as he hung up, his mother’s temper tantrum beginning.

“She doesn’t get to talk to you like that. No one does.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was no day 3. She left your house, essentially cursing you, but you didn’t care. It was finally the way it was meant to be. Just Aaron, Jack, the girls, and you.

Your perfect family.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine

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lustspren · 6 months

Text

P.S.T EP. 8 | After Hours ft Giselle.

length: 10.1k words✦

Giselle & Male Reader

genres: anal, oral sex, hard sex, creampie, foot worship, ass eating, pool sex, public sex

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The flight landed on the night of Tuesday, August 8, 3 days before the performance that Aespa had scheduled for Outside Lands on Friday. San Francisco was a city that for some reason you had always liked a lot, it was not exactly the most tourist friendly city in the country thanks to its stupidly steep streets, but all that was compensated by the beauty of the tourist places they had, among them the very famous Golden Gate, City Hall, or more discreet places such as Lombard Street or the Painted Ladies of Alamo Square. As if all this were not enough, they had a tram system that went to any corner of the city, you didn't know if you would have the opportunity to get on one, but it would be on your list of things to do.

You passed the respective controls at the airport, and when you went outside, towards the street, that was when everything became a dangerous situation for you. Cameras, and fans. Noze had warned you minutes before that for your own good you should put on sunglasses and a cap, obviously like the good fool you were, you didn't listen at first, but time proved her right and you had to put sunglasses on while you walked behind them dragging your suitcase. You knew that they were giants as a group, but you didn't fully assimilate it until you experienced it in person, a few meters from all the noise and the spotlight.

When you left the hot zone you finally reached the street, where a long black van with chrome windows was waiting for you with the door already open for you, the path delimited by a row of security guards who kept people and photographers contained. You finally entered the van, and took a deep breath when the door closed and it drove away.

"Get used to it, this was rather quiet," Noze laughed, patting your shoulder, as you settled into your seat and looked outside, wondering what the hell you had gotten yourself into.

—————————————————————————

The hotel you were staying at was the Hilton San Francisco, a five-star hotel, known for having the highest bar in the city located on the 46th floor of one of the buildings. The infrastructure was imposing and rudimentary, contrasting with the amount of luxuries that should have been inside.

The check-in when you arrived at the lobby was faster than you expected, Noze was certainly incredible at her job, and you were impressed by how enormously organized and effective she could be for some things. She always had everything in order and on time, even the most insignificant things that anyone could have overlooked.

Each of them were given the access cards for their respective rooms, the girls had deluxe rooms with a single bed each, while you, Noze and the rest of the staff members had regular rooms with a single bed. When you went up to settle in, you realized that a regular room in that hotel was without a doubt the most beautiful room you had ever stayed in, and you considered your bedroom as a palace of kings.

The room has a king size bed, with a small nightstand on the left with a landline phone, and on the right a larger nightstand with a digital alarm clock on top. In the far corner was a sectional sofa that covered a bit of the bed wall and much of the wall to the right of it. In front of the bed there was a long dresser with few things on it, with an office chair in a space to put your legs when sitting, and on the wall above the dresser, a television that was nothing special and that honestly didn't work. you had planned to use.

The views you had weren't particularly impressive either, it was just the inside of one of the buildings that made up the structure of the hotel, but even so, it felt like a comfortable and pleasant bedroom, perfect for a few days that you knew would be long.

You began to unpack your things patiently, leaving the suitcase open on the floor next to the bed and then taking out the important things from your backpack, your laptop, which you left on the dresser in front of the chair, AirPods, power bank and some snacks that you had bought at the airport. You were going to continue One Piece with the chapters saved on your laptop, you were about to sit in the chair, and at that moment someone knocked on the door. You sighed, closing the laptop to go to the door and look through the peephole. It was Noze.

You reluctantly opened the door, meeting Noze's playful gaze.

"Was the flight fun, pretty boy?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, and you huffed, turned your back on her and went to sit on the edge of the bed. She just laughed at your annoyance.

"I'm not going to comment on it, woman," you said, crossing your arms, "what's wrong?" you asked, looking at her.

"Nothing really," she said, stepping forward and closing the door behind her, "I was just coming to talk to you about some things," she walked over to the chair and grabbed it by the back to roll it around until it was facing you, then she sat there so she was on the same level as you, "How did you handle that walk through the airport? You know, with all the flashes and stuff."

"Fuck, it was an experience," you sighed, your face softening as you looked at the ground, "I'm not going to lie to you, it was kind of claustrophobic... I wasn't expecting so much commotion," at that moment the screen of your phone lit up. and it buzzed twice in a row, out of the corner of your eye you noticed it was Chaery and the girls. Noze also saw the phone, but she ignored it.

"Well, that's nowhere near the worst you'll ever experience, probably," she said, scratching her temple and raising both eyebrows, "panic attacks can be fatal, so try not to fall for that, oh, and something else-" she was interrupted by more buzzes from your phone, which she looked at for a few seconds and huffed in annoyance.

"Uh… sorry," you said, grabbing your phone and skimming through all the messages through the notification bubbles. They were all messages from the Itzy girls worried about you, asking if you had landed safely and if you had seen Cake's performance on Mnet. When you finished reading everything you turned the phone face down.

"Aha, no problem," she nodded, thinking that your phone was no longer going to bother you, "look, you have to make an effort to play your role, okay? You're supposed to be just another staff member, we can't raise suspicions among fans."

"I don't think that's too complicated for me, the ones you have to keep in line with those matters are your girls," you said with a small mocking giggle.

"You are right, but it still doesn't hurt to warn you. You are listed as the girls' personal assistant and translator," she began to explain, "in short, you are supposed to help them with everything related to cultural integration."

"But don't you already have Giselle for that?" you asked with a confused expression.

"We had to have a cover for all this, don't ask questions!" she said tiredly.

"Alright alright, fair enough," you laughed, and contrary to your expectations, your phone rang again, but this time it wasn't a message, someone was calling you. You picked up the phone to see who it was. Yeji.

You stared at the screen for a second just like Noze, but unlike you she did act on it. She snatched the phone from your hand and answered the call.

"Honey, our little man is really busy right now!" she said loudly into the phone, already losing her temper, "I would appreciate it if you would leave him alone since he doesn't have time for distractions right now, damn it!" she finally hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed, next to you. You just stayed silent for a few seconds, taking in what just happened.

"What the fuck did you just do?! Are you crazy?!" you said, raising your voice to her, frowning. Noze took a deep breath and rolled the chair forward, sticking it as close to the bed as possible to lean forward and leave her face a few centimeters from yours.

"Listen to me, boy," she grabbed your chin, "do you know how fucking lucky you are to be sitting in this fucking bed you're in right now?" she said in a low but threatening voice, "you know that right? Now tell me, are you willing to take this damn thing seriously or not? Because I have no problem going to the airport right now and buying you a plane ticket back to Korea. "

Your blood was boiling inside, your fists were clenched between your legs, and your teeth were clenched as she kept her grip on your chin firm. In your mind the idea of abandoning everything at that precise moment flirted closely with you, but so did the image of Ningning's pretty eyes looking at you, just like her sweet voice or how tender she had been with you from the first moment. She didn't deserve that.

"Fuck, fine, I'm sorry," you said, letting out a heavy breath, you closed your eyes, hoping your anger would go away. When you opened them again, you met Noze's now more relaxed gaze. From that distance it was easier to detail her face, and boy was she stupidly beautiful. She let go of you and leaned back.

"You'll have time to talk to them, okay? But for the love of God, focus on the here and now," she asked, as if regretting the fact that she had to talk to you like that so you could wake up, "Anyway, as I said," she sighed, "being photographed and seen in public with the girls is inevitable, this is why we can't afford to be suspicious of any kind, everything has to look natural, and nothing out of the ordinary. Understood?"

You meditated on it for a few long silent seconds, realizing that all of this was bigger and more serious than you had contemplated. What she was asking of you wasn't exactly difficult, your own anxiety was never going to allow you to act any differently towards girls in public, just normal conversations with little or no physical contact. You could control that, but you couldn't control how the girls were going to behave. You were afraid of that.

"I understand," you nodded, "you don't need to stress it to me again."

"Great," she nodded too, "can I have your phone for a second?"

"You're not going to call Yeji again to yell at her, are you?" you said picking up your phone with a raised eyebrow. Noze rolled her eyes.

“No, just give it to me,” she insisted, placing her outstretched palm in front of you. You handed her your unlocked phone, and watched as she entered the number pad, quickly adding the girls' contacts and hers, "look, they already have your number," Noze warned, "if anyone texts you for... you know, you must go immediately, no matter what you are doing."

"What if I'm taking a bath?"

"As soon as you finish bathing."

"What if I'm sleeping with my phone on vibrate?"

"You are not going to sleep with your phone on vibrate, it's an order."

"Okay..." you were silent, "...so what if I'm taking shit?"

"Fuck you get my point!" she yelled already annoyed, you burst into laughter, "stop laughing, this is serious!" You wanted to stop laughing, but you had met few people who looked so cute and at the same time funny in a situation like this.

"Okay, I'm sorry," you said, taking a deep breath to mitigate your laughter.

"I'm going to kick your ass," she said annoyed, and then sighed, "anything else you need to know?"

"Not really," you shook your head.

"Cool, now, I must give you some recommendations and warnings," she leaned back in the chair, "Minjeongie is... fuck, that girl really is like a black hole, no matter how much is inside her, she always wants more."

"Well, that's a pretty accurate analogy."

"You should be especially careful with Aeri, she really likes playing with fire," she sighed, you guessed she was remembering all the trouble she had given her, "you know, she doesn't abandon her American ways."

"I'm not surprised, she looks like something out of Mean Girls."

"I loved that movie when I was a little girl. I liked Lindsay Lohan so much..." she said going off the deep end for a second, you stayed silent watching her, and when she realized what she had said she blushed, "Ehm, like I was saying. Ning likes to drink, she's not an alcoholic, but she likes it, and when she gets drunk she tends to get into trouble."

"She drinks alone in her room, for example? Is that what you mean?" you asked curiously.

"Aha, she doesn't do it often but when she does we find her red-cheeked and acting like an idiot," Noze put a finger between her eyebrows and massaged that space, "and about Jiminie there's really nothing important that you don't know already, she's really competitive and always wants to win."

"I fucking know that," you said with a huff, remembering how she kept you from cumming in Ning's mouth.

"Well, I think we're done for now," Noze said, straightening up in her chair, she rolled it back and stood up, "By the way, we're going to dinner in a few hours, get ready and wait for my message."

"Alright, I'll take a bath then," you said, standing up as she walked towards the exit.

"Oh, one last thing..." she opened the door and put half her body behind it, only her head and part of her chest sticking out, "Honey, you're no longer just a masseuse, you're now part of this whole industry and the gears that move it. I know how fucked up being in a relationship can be from firsthand experience, so please..." she took a deep breath before continuing, "make sure you make this easier for the Itzy girls, they are very sweet enough to go through heartbreaks."

With all that said, Noze left your room and closed the door, leaving you silent and staring blankly as you took in everything she had just said. She was right, you knew perfectly well how the industry and Korean society behaved when an idol was discovered or involved in a dating scandal, and causing a problem of that caliber to girls was something that did not cross your mind as something that you wanted to live, but still, how the hell did you plan to get away from them? Your bond at that point was already too close, especially with Chaery. It wouldn't be an easy task nor one that you would want to do. Besides, what did she mean by saying she knew it from her own experience? Was she a trainee? Had she been with an idol?

You mulled it over for a few minutes until you grabbed your phone to respond to the Itzy girls, telling them all that you had landed safely and that you were going to watch their Mnet performance in just a moment. Then you specifically told Yeji that you were sorry about Noze just now, that she had just caught her at a time when she needed your attention. You had also written that you missed them all very much, but you thought about what Noze had told you a few minutes ago and you growled bitterly, deleting that part of the messages and sending the rest.

You left the phone on the bed and went into the bathroom, undressed and entered the shower. You turned on the cold water and put a hand in to test the temperature, too cold. Your hand went to the other handle, and you turned it until the water began to come out at a warm, perfect temperature. You took your time in the shower, not thinking about anything specifically, you simply relaxed, eyes closed and doing breathing exercises to come out as calm as possible.

After about fifteen minutes you turned off the shower and walked out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your waist. You quickly searched your suitcase, looking for something appropriate to wear. In the end you opted for an outfit with a sporty aesthetic: a gray Japanese windbreaker jacket, black sports pants and silver New Balance 408 sneakers (which were one of the three pairs of shoes you had barely brought) and a black Nike cap.

As you tied your shoelaces your phone vibrated with a few notifications, reaching out to pick it up and checking it, there was a message from Noze telling you that it was time for you to meet in the lobby, but you also had messages from each of the Itzy girls.

You wanted to respond, but you no longer had time to sit and write messages for each one, so you finished tying your shoelaces, grabbed your phone and wallet and left your room heading to the hotel lobby.

When you got there you saw the group of girls standing not far from the bar, near the group of tables and chairs that made up the place.

"Do you think those shorts are appropriate for going out, Uchinaga Aeri?" You heard Noze scold Giselle as you walked towards them patiently with your hands in your pockets. You wanted to see how Giselle defended herself.

"Oh come on, who are you, my aunt?" Giselle teased her, followed by an arrogant giggle, "I'll be fine, woman, don't be dramatic," at that moment you stood behind Noze, who turned to look at you and sighed in relief.

"Fuck, thank goodness, it's already late, let's go," she nodded towards the exit, and you all followed her.

As soon as Noze moved and started walking, your eyes went straight to Giselle's perfect fleshy legs, she turned around, and that's when you noticed how stupidly short her shorts were, thanks to the amount of butt they revealed, it wasn't anything out of this world, but for an idol it was a lot.

"Do you want a photo to make it last longer?" She asked, looking at you over her shoulder as she walked, a mischievous smile on her face, then she stopped to wait for you, and when you stood next to her she moved closer to your ear making a wall with her hand, "I'm not wearing anything underneath… in case you were interested in knowing," a shiver ran down your spine, and you did your best to play dumb.

"Hey, get in the van," Noze said, and you stopped to let all the girls walk in front of you, Giselle last of all, right in front of you. Your eyes never left her round ass, and she was perfectly aware of it, she even pretended to fix a strap on her sandals just to bend over and give you an even better view of her ass. You took a deep breath, and when she got in you followed her into the van.

The trip wasn't too long, in fact it was rather short. You stopped at an In & Out Burger, a fast food chain with which you were not very familiar. Before going down, Noze told you and the girls that they would be recording some group and individual tiktoks trying In & Out's burgers.

You got out of the van, and went inside the restaurant to all sit at an empty table. You made to take your seat, but Noze put a hand on your thigh to stop you.

"Honey, could you order for us, please?" she asked you kindly.

"Yeah, sure, what do you want?" you asked, and Noze looked at the others as they looked at the menus, you waited patiently, until Noze finally gave you everyone's orders. You turned to go to the register, but Giselle interrupted you.

"I want my Animal Style," she told you, and then she winked at you. You could see everyone frowning in confusion.

"And what the hell is that?" Ningning and Karina asked Giselle.

"Don't worry about it," Noze interjected, motioning with her eyes for you to go order. And so you did it.

After a few minutes you returned to the table with hamburgers (you had to make a double trip to carry all the trays), fries, sauces and shakes for everyone, including Giselle's Animal Style. You all had a pretty nice meal, the girls loved their burgers, and they ran out of fries in a matter of a few minutes. Noze recorded a few tiktoks just as she had said a few minutes ago, and then it was the girls' turn to record their respective individual videos.

Everything ended up being pretty normal, and you all went back to the van.

"Hey, make sure you sleep early today," Noze said, looking at you in the rearview mirror, "you have a dance studio booked for tomorrow for your rehearsal for the festival. I need you to be energized and refreshed."

"Oh, unnie, you have sauce there..." Ningning said softly, pointing to one of Giselle's thighs.

"Oops, how did that get there?" Giselle said, playing dumb, then she wiped the sauce on her thigh with her index finger and brought it directly to your mouth. You froze, savoring the sauce as you watched her with wide eyes. She just laughed, and Karina sighed.

"Oh poor boy... there's no way you're going to survive this tour," she said, feeling sorry for you and everything that lay ahead of you.

—————————————————————————

When you returned to your room again the first thing you did was take off your cap, throw it in your suitcase and jump on the bed to take out your phone and answer the girls.

After sending all the messages you left the phone on the nightstand next to the landline and stood up to take off your jacket, leaving you only in your sweatpants and socks. You turned on the air conditioning, and got under the blankets ready to sleep. You lay on your side, hugging the free pillow like you always did, your eyes still open, lost in nothingness. What Noze had told you didn't stop spinning around in your head, and you wondered if it was the right thing to have told everyone that you missed them, then you thought about it for a few seconds, and you concluded that it wasn't right to be an idiot either. Being honest wasn't going to hurt anyone, and the truth was that you did miss them all.

You closed your eyes ready to fall asleep when your phone rang again. You opened your eyes immediately and reached out to pick it up from the bedside table, hoping that it was Ryujin's aforementioned fancam, but to your surprise, it was a message from Ningning. A silly smile appeared on your face when you read it.

Before you could put your phone back on the nightstand you received another message, but more than a message it was a video from Giselle. You downloaded the video quickly, and your jaw dropped as you watched what it was about.

Giselle had put the phone on the dresser in front of her bed recording her. She fixed her hair and looked at her angles a few times before starting the action. Her hands went to the button of her shorts to unbutton them and slowly lower the zipper, when she did, she grabbed her shorts by the curb to lower them very slowly. You noticed a slight well-groomed bush on her pubic area, and before you could see her pussy she turned around to continue pulling the garment down, this time revealing her wonderfully round ass. She spread her buttocks with her hands and shook her ass from side to side, showing you her pussy and her butthole before turning around, walking over to her phone and stopping the recording with an evil giggle.

It didn't end there, seconds later you received a photo of her that only showed her shorts wrapped around her ankles, and her pretty, perfectly pedicured feet. You watched the video about three or four more times in which your cock was rock hard, until she sent you several text messages.

After reading the messages you received another video, in this one Giselle was lying on her back recording herself with the rear camera, she wiggled her fingers adorably, but then slowly brought one hand towards the bush at her crotch, ending the video as soon as her fingers reached to her pussy. You were left drooling again, and the next thing you received was a goodnight from her.

You finally put the phone on the nightstand and closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep with a painfully hard erection.

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When you woke up the next morning the first thing you were going to do was go wash your face and teeth like you always did, but when you got out of bed to go to the bathroom you noticed that a folded piece of paper had been passed under your door. You took it to see that it was an itinerary for today, you read it carefully and folded it again, left it on your bed and went directly to the bathroom to clean up.

That day was going to be much heavier than the previous one, so you opted for an outfit just as comfortable as last night, a gray sweater with a collar and black trim, black sweatpants, and the same sneakers from the day before. When you were ready you took your things and went down to the lobby, where there was a significant flow of people going to the bar area to enjoy the hotel food, sitting at one of the tables you found the girls without Noze, they had saved you a seat, from what you saw.

"Good morning girls," you greeted, sitting down with them, and they greeted you back. There was already all kinds of food for breakfast on the table, and you slightly rolled up the sleeves of your sweater so as not to stain them, "Did you sleep well?" you asked as you grabbed a plate.

"Fuck no," Karina said while eating a piece of toast with blackberry jam, "Mingjeong's noises didn't let me sleep at all," Winter, beside her, let out a small mischievous giggle as she looked at her waffles, into which she was pouring Maple syrup.

"I slept like a baby," Ningning told you as she looked at you with a small smile.

"I slept very well too," Giselle said, drinking some strawberry juice, "And how did you sleep, honey?" she asked back with a hint of mischief in her voice.

Before you could respond, Noze arrived at the table with you and interrupted you.

"Girls, are you done yet? We have to go," Noze said as she checked her phone.

"I haven't even eaten," you said with a poker face.

"You can take something to eat on the way, silly, but we have to go," she repeated, and then all the girls finished what little was left of their plates. You had no choice but to go to the people in charge of the buffet to order a takeaway breakfast. When you came back they were all ready and waiting for you to go to the van.

"Alright let's go," you said, nodding toward the exit, your packed breakfast in your hand.

"Hey, you're not going in our van today," Noze told you as you walked to the street, "I need you to go with the rest of the support staff and make sure everything is in order, provide logistical support and help them with the language, you know."

"Roger that," you nodded, and when you went out to the street you saw the girls, "see you in a while girls," you said, waving your hand, to go to the second van where the rest of the staff was.

"Oh by the way!" She told you from the distance, "In the afternoon we will meet in the lobby again, the girls will have a photo session and then you will have the night free!" You just gave her a small military salute and got to work with the rest of the staff.

You never thought you would feel that way, but for some reason you really enjoyed helping the staff work. They were all very nice and fun people, and it was really interesting to see how all the logistics behind such a giant group worked. The day passed faster than you expected, and the moment you least expected it, you were back at the hotel.

There in the lobby everything was quite chaotic, since as soon as we arrived they had the photo session practically within half an hour, so everything was a mess of people going in all directions, including the girls, making all the preparations and cleaning up to be able to arrive presentable at the photo studio.

In the photo studio your job was quite simple, in fact, it was quite close to your real role, a personal assistant for the girls. You went from here to there, with blankets and bottles of water to give to the four beauties who posed behind the lights with a truly enviable naturalness. You were inevitably closer to Ning than the others, and you knew that you shouldn't show preferences towards anyone, but the warmth and tenderness with which Ning always received you made you feel at home.

When the photo shoot was over all the girls thanked the staff with smiles and bows, and Noze gathered you all together to give each of you a Snickers chocolate bar.

"Alright princesses, we're going back to the hotel, night off," she said with a small smile on her face, and the girls cheered, "what you want to have for dinner or how you want to spend the night is up to you, but if you want to go out of the hotel, don't forget to inform me beforehand so I can assign you a staff member."

"Understood boss," Karina agreed with a small smile.

"Your departure is already approved, by the way," Noze told Giselle, "you're going with Yoonjung," Yoonjung was one of the stylists.

"Brilliant!" Giselle said with a little smile and small applause.

"I'll take a nap for obvious reasons," Karina sighed, looking at Winter who was avoiding her gaze while she played dumb.

"Can we go sightseeing?" Ning asked Noze, bright eyes only searching for a 'yes'.

"I'll work on it right now, for that you need bodyguards," Noze agreed.

"Thanks unnie!" Winter said in her tiny voice.

"Rest for a little while while we pick up everything, okay?" Noze said, taking a few steps away, "except you, handsome, come help," the girls laughed at your face.

"On my way," you sighed, and went after Noze.

You helped the entire staff by packing things and served as a translator between them and the photo studio staff, it took you about 15 minutes to put everything in order until you were ready to leave. The staff van had once again served as your transportation to the hotel, where the first thing you did was go to your room to lie down for a few long minutes in which you only dedicated yourself to scrolling through Twitter.

The fatigue accumulated in your body began to take its toll on you, and your eyes began to feel heavier than usual, you were falling asleep. You didn't want to take a nap at that moment, the night was still very young and you definitely knew it was going to be busy, so you made the decision that 70% of young adults would make being in a luxurious hotel with an open bar, go to the restaurant from the lobby.

With such a wide variety of drinks and beverages it was difficult to choose, but there, sitting at the restaurant bar surrounded by dozens of strangers, you didn't care to think about what to drink, anything would do to prepare you for that night.

"Tell me sir, what do you want?" one of the bartenders told you, waiting for your order.

"Surprise me, I honestly have no idea," you said with a nervous laugh, resting your forearms on the bar as you looked at the good atmosphere around you.

"Do you like vodka?" he asked.

"I love vodka."

"A White Russian will do, then," he said before turning around and starting to make the cocktail.

You took out your phone and waited patiently, calmly scrolling through Instagram, until an unexpected appearance made you take your eyes off the screen.

"Hey there, taking a well-deserved break?" Noze asked, leaning with both arms of the bar to the side of you, quite a bit closer than you expected. You were surprised by her presence, you thought she would be busy with more important matters.

"Oh yeah," you nodded with a smile, watching the bartender prepare the cocktail, "and you?"

"Well, I ran out of things to do today and I got bored," she shrugged, looking at the shelves full of bottles, "us managers need breaks sometimes too," she laughed.

"And you certainly deserve it, I can tell these days have been stressful for you," you commented.

"Don't mention it," she sighed, "have you ordered anything yet?"

"Yup, do you want something?"

"A Rusty Nail would be nice," she said, her arm tucked into yours.

"Hey boss!" you caught the attention of the bartender when he came with your drink, "Give me a Rusty Nail too, please."

"On the way!" he said, setting the small glass with your drink in front of you.

"Damn, Scotch Whiskey?" you asked amused.

"I guess I have a pretty strong palate," she said with a giggle, "Hey, are you hungry?"

"Now that you mention it, yes," you took the glass and took a sip of your drink, and your palate was delighted with the taste of the liqueur coffee mixed with the vodka and cream, "are you inviting me to dinner?"

"I don't know, do you want to have dinner with me?" She asked, raising an eyebrow with a little smile.

"It wouldn't hurt me," you laughed, taking another sip of your drink, and at that moment the bartender arrived with Noze's drink, you raised both eyebrows, seeing the strong, yellowish content inside the glass.

"Damn, I hope it's not too strong," Noze said, making a face of fear as she took the glass.

"And you worry about that now?" You took a sip of your drink, "Just drink," Noze took a small sip and scrunched up her face, you let out a few small laughs.

"Well, I was certainly hoping for something softer," she said, stirring the glass, "but it's perfect, let's sit down, pretty boy," she nodded at you and stepped away from the bar for you to follow her.

You and Noze went to sit at a table in the middle of the restaurant, and talked for a few minutes until you finally ordered your food. Noze was a much calmer and more ordinary girl than she seemed, your conversation flowed very well with her at all times, and she had a quite pleasant sense of humor. You enjoyed each other's company so much that as soon as you finished eating you continued ordering drinks, one after another, until you finally got up the courage to ask her something that you couldn't help but question since the flight.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked, leaning back on your seat as you looked into her eyes, she looked back at you, her cheeks a little red from the alcohol.

"Sure, tell me."

"Why weren't you with the girls when... you know," you cleared your throat, "quality control."

"Oh... that..." she paused for a moment, and looked down at one of the empty plates, as if memories had invaded her head, "well, it's kind of complicated, honey."

"I understand..." you nodded slowly, "well, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"And you're right, I don't want to do it right now," she said with a small smile behind which you noticed a hint of sadness and nostalgia.

"Then I have another question for you," you took a sip of your drink and set it down on the table, "how come you're Aespa's manager? I mean, look at you," you pointed at her with your outstretched hands, "you look like something out of an arts museum," Noze laughed adorably at your comment, but the same expression from a moment ago returned.

"Do you wanna know the truth?" she asked rhetorically, "I was a backup dancer for Red Velvet back in the day, I thought that my future was there and that my artistic career would take a big leap... but something happened, and well, events let me know that there was no future for me in that field," you didn't quite notice it from her downcast gaze, but you could swear that her eyes were crystallized, "the company knew of my good leadership and intelligence, so they offered me to be the manager of the new group that was about to debut, and I clearly accepted."

You remained silent as you watched her, carefully analyzing her body language and her face, it was very evident that she had a lump in her throat. You didn't want to push her about it, but curiosity was killing you, and the alcohol didn't allow you to contain yourself.

"But… what happened?" You asked in dismay, but at that moment you saw from the corner of your eye how Giselle arrived at the lobby without noticing your presence, you followed her with your gaze, and upon seeing your gaze Noze turned to see her too.

"We'll have to save that conversation for another time, darling," she sighed, swallowing thickly as she wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater, "you have work to do, so go," she nodded at you. Giselle, "I'll pay the bill, don't worry."

"Are you sure?" you asked, before standing up.

"Yeah, no problem, I'll go check on the other girls too," she told you with a smile.

"Okay..." you grabbed your phone, put it in your pocket and walked to stand next to her, putting a hand on her head, "And hey, I'm open to listening to you whenever you want," she looked up to see you with puppy eyes.

"I appreciate it, a lot," she made a small silence as she looked at you, "come on, go."

You nodded and started towards your room, and just as if Noze predicted the future, as soon as you arrived you received a message from Giselle.

As soon as you read the message you rushed to search like crazy in your suitcase, you knew you had put swimwear in there, but you took out and took out clothes without any success, in the end, your swimsuit turned out to be at the bottom of the suitcase. The you of the past was quite unintelligent. You changed your clothes quickly, putting on a pair of Crocs, swim shorts, and a loose white t-shirt. Once ready, you hurried to the hotel pool.

It was 12, almost 1 in the morning, at that time you expected to find at least several people in the hotel pool, but to your surprise, in the distance, already immersed in the water, you could see Giselle with her forearms leaning on the edge of the pool. You walked closer, looking in all directions to make sure no one was there.

"Oh well, what a shame," she said with some disappointment in her voice when you showed up just a meter away from her, "I was hoping you'd forgotten to pack your swim shorts and come in your underwear," as she said that, she planted her hands on the edge of the pool and pushed herself up to support her abdomen on it, letting you see the incredibly hot swimsuit she was wearing. It was a two-piece bikini, the top resembled an ordinary black bra, and the bottom part covered up to the middle of her abdomen, but it brought out all the dump truck that Giselle had as an ass, "you join in, dear?"

"You don't even have to ask," you said, taking off your shirt and crocs to sit on the edge of the pool, and with a little jump, you joined her in the pool, where the water reached you by a few inches under the chest. It was quite cold, but you acted brave in front of her.

As soon as you entered the pool with her, she swam towards you, clung to your body with her meaty thighs and to your neck with her arms and crashed her lips against yours without even thinking about it, you reciprocated for a few short seconds in the that you felt her soft flesh rub against your skin under the water, but when you came to your senses you pushed her away.

"Huh? What's wrong?" she asked, confused.

"Are you crazy?" you said looking around paranoidly, "we can't do that in public, someone might see us and photograph us!"

"Do you want to know something funny?" Giselle approached you again, this time placing a hand on your chest as she looked at you with her lips parted, "my aunt is a pretty important business woman here in the United States, do you want to know who one of the co-owners of this hotel is?" There was no need for you to answer her question, because immediately after she said that the lights around the pool went out completely, leaving you alone with the surrounding light and the moonlight.

"Dear residents, the pool will be closed until further notice due to an electrical problem in the machinery area, we appreciate your patience and apologize for the inconvenience," said a voice through speakers that were invisible to you at that moment.

"You see?" She said in a cocky way, and then took your hand to guide it inside the bottom of her bikini, your hand went down slowly, until it found an area of extremely soft skin where yesterday you remembered there was a bush, that's when you realized where she had gone today. Your first instinct was to lower your hand a little further and begin to slowly rub your fingers along her slit and clit, but she winced and stopped you, "I'm still very sensitive from the waxing, honey."

That was not an impediment for you. You pulled your hand out from inside her bottoms and used both to quickly lower them to her ankles, where she kicked them away. Now you had Giselle naked from the waist down, with her bare ass and her meaty legs fully available to you.

You submerged yourself completely under the water, and took Giselle's legs to put them over your shoulders, sitting her on top of them to cling to her thighs and begin to eat her pussy in the most tender and careful way you could, making sure to do the least amount of damage possible.

Her pussy was fucking delicious and soft, you already knew that from your past experience on the flight, but this time you had both your hands free to take them to her ass and squeeze it as much as you wanted, massaging and groping it as much as you could. After a few seconds you stuck your head out to take a big breath of air.

"More!" she moaned, her face already twisted with pleasure, and you listened to her, diving back under the water and burying your mouth in her pussy again, attacking her clit and her soft folds. After a while you came back out for air, "Oh my fucking god more!" She moaned again, a little louder than the previous time, and you submerged yourself in the water again. This time while you were eating her pussy you took one hand to run a finger through her butthole, but when you got there you found a round, metallic piece. A buttplug. Instead of removing it you started playing with it, moving it around in circles a bit and taking it in and out a few times until you had to come back to the surface for air, "just take it off," she told you, referring to the buttplug.

You submerged yourself under the water again, and continued eating her pussy while you took off her buttplug, which floated away in the water. One of your hands went to one of her buttocks to squeeze them, while the other went directly to her butthole to trace the outline of it with your fingers, playing with it a little before inserting your two fingers inside.

You pumped your fingers in and out of her dilated ass for a few long seconds while you kept giving attention to her sensitive pussy, which you were impressed by how stupidly addictive it was, and you reluctantly had to come up for air again.

"Fuck, let's go to my room, right now," Giselle demanded, her face red and her breathing heavy.

"I thought you'd never ask for it," you said with a smile, and turned around to go grab her bottoms and her buttplug, but she quickly grabbed your forearm.

"Just leave them, there's no time," she said, taking you with her to the edge of the pool, "quickly, get me a towel."

"But..." you sighed, seeing both things floating in the water with some concern, "gosh, okay," you got out of the pool, and quickly went to one of the pool chairs to grab a couple of folded towels.

When Giselle got out of the pool you helped each other dry off as you walked towards the light, when you came out of the darkness you already had towels wrapped around your waists. As soon as you entered the hotel, you noticed over your shoulder that the pool lights had turned on again, but there was no announcement this time. Giselle was undoubtedly a clever girl.

You quickly moved towards Giselle's room, a path that had you on edge at all times with the fear that someone would see you, but luckily for you, the hotel at that time was not as busy as usual. When she got to the room, the first thing she did was finish drying herself properly and tie her hair into a ponytail.

"Honey, would you go to the bathroom to get the lube, please?" She asked, giving you a peck on the cheek.

"Sure thing," you nodded, and walked towards the bathroom to look for the aforementioned lubricant. You had a hard time finding it, since she had it hidden behind another bottle of body lotion. When you returned to the room you found her completely naked on the bed, legs wide open while she rubbed gel on her pubic area.

"Oops, sorry," she said with an embarrassed giggle, "I thought it would take you longer to find the lube."

"Nah it's fine," you said, leaving the bottle of lube on the bed, "do you want me to help you?"

"You're very sweet darling, but no thanks," she said with a little smile, "anyway, I wouldn't mind if you worshiped my feet while I'm done here."

You immediately got to work, kneeling in front of her on the bed and grabbing her ankles to bring her pretty feet directly into your mouth. It didn't take long for her toes to be completely salivated thanks to your tongue and lips, which worked with great dedication along the length and width of both feet.

Giselle didn't bother to hide her pretty moans as she continued rubbing the gel on her pubic area. A few seconds passed, and when she finished applying the gel, you grabbed her by the waist and turned her face down, to continue sucking, licking and kissing her feet the same way you did with Karina.

While you kissed one of her feet, Giselle moved the other one directly towards your cock, rubbing and squeezing it over your swim shorts, which you pulled down with a quick tug so that her foot rubbed against your cock without any restriction. You moaned against her foot, letting her rub your cock with her free foot for a few seconds until you pulled her by her ankles towards the edge of the bed, leaving her bent at the waist, her incredibly hot, round ass raised and her chest pressed against the bed.

You stood up for a second so you could take off your shorts and be completely naked. You bent your knees, and brought your hands to her ass to grab her buttocks and spread them wide, to immerse your mouth in her pretty butthole and start eating it with as much enthusiasm as her pussy.

Giselle moaned loudly at the feel of your tongue and clung to the sheets, while you worked your best to eat her delicious ass. Your hands squeezed her buttocks, soft and fleshy like two pieces of cloud, and your cock throbbed thanks to her sensual moans.

"Lick faster and towards the edges honey!" She asked between moans, and you thus pleased her demands, following her instructions to the letter and driving her crazy with pleasure.

After a few minutes of being immersed like a hungry dog in her ass, you stopped to take a breath and give your tongue a well-deserved rest.

"Keep your ass open, baby," you told her, as you grabbed the bottle of lube and poured some of it over your fingers, leaving them nice and slippery. Giselle complied with your order, grabbing her buttocks and holding them open. You brought your fingers to her butthole, tracing a circle around it before inserting them completely inside her ass.

"Fuck!" she squealed, as you began to slowly pump your fingers in and out of her butthole, which let your fingers slide in as easily as if it were her pussy. Your pumps became faster and more intense, and Giselle's squeals gradually became louder, "Hey... did you r-really mean what you s-said on the plane?"

"What are you talking about?" you asked with your mouth slightly open, panting as you fucked her ass with your fingers.

"D-don't play dumb... ah!" she moaned, "about how my ass and pussy were the tastiest you'd ever tasted."

You stopped pumping your fingers and bent down again to plant your tongue flat on her clit, slowly moving up through her folds until you reached her ass, kissing every inch of it.

"I meant every damn word I said," you said, placing kisses and bites on her buttocks, "I could eat you all day because of how fucking delicious you are, Uchinaga Aeri."

At that response, Giselle put a hand on your forehead and moved you away from her ass, settling on her hands and knees for you.

"Then let's hope it's also the best ass you've ever fucked," she said in a provocative voice, biting her lower lip.

You had been waiting for that moment since you were on the plane, and you didn't hesitate for a moment to grab the bottle of lubricant and quickly lubricate your cock. You knew that her butthole was well lubricated and dilated, so you didn't take long to grab your cock and press it against it, sinking to the bottom with a single strong thrust.

Feeling your cock buried deep in her ass, Giselle broke her own volume record with a single moan. You smiled, and gave her a small, spicy spank before holding onto her waist with both hands and starting to fuck her ass fast and hard right from the start. She buried her head between her forearms, moaning like crazy as your cock pounded in and out of her ass.

You pounded her ass so fast and so aggressively that it only took a few seconds for Giselle to reach her climax. She moaned from the rooftops, crumpling the sheets under her fingers as she pounded herself against your cock, her entire body trembling and writhing with pleasure. It was hypnotic to watch how her ass bounced against your pelvis, and how her buttocks wiggled like jelly with each crash.

"I'm not done with you yet, cutie," you said after letting her rest for a few long seconds.

"I didn't want you to stop either, fuck my damn ass as hard as you want, handsome," she demanded in a provocative voice, and you leaned forward to grab her ponytail and forcefully yank her head back, making her scream in a combination of pain and pleasure.

Her ass was once again being brutally hammered by your cock, without any kind of mercy or care towards her, only pure aggression and desire which was reflected in your moans and hers, which made a perfect symphony that was consistent with the pleasure that you both felt at the moment.

Your grip on her ponytail was firm and strong, keeping her head up at all times as you made every part of her body shake with each hard thrust. You used your free hand to give her ass another hard spank, but one turned into two, and two became countless spanks that made her scream with pleasure while her buttocks were marked red hot.

You felt your orgasm incredibly close, but her ass was tight enough for her to tell by how your cock was throbbing inside it.

"Pull out!" She ordered you, and you reluctantly did so, your cock aching and wanting to cum. She rolled over onto her back, and lifted her bent legs up to her chest to place her arms behind her knees in a firm grip, "You can get back to work now, honey," she gasped, and so you did it.

You took your cock and guided it back into her butthole in that new position, she felt you deep again and her toes curled tight as she squealed. Your hands went to either side of her body, and you leaned forward to pin her against the bed and begin pumping your hips aggressively up and down, making the entire bed and thighs tremble.

She moaned uncontrollably, her eyes watering and her mouth open the entire time, she writhed, and grunted with every pump of your cock against her ass. It didn't take her too long to cum again in that new position.

She whimpered, finally letting go of her tears and giving in to her violent spasms, which prevented you from moving any further. Her butthole clenched very tightly around your cock, and you crumpled the sheets under your fingers as you gritted your teeth and growled. Her toes were curled up and wiggled, and you couldn't help but take them into your mouth again to suck and lick them, hammering her ass back without barely giving her any time to rest.

"Fucking look at me!!" Giselle squealed as she felt your cock throb again inside her butthole, "look at me while you fill that damn tight ass with that hot load!"

With her toes still inside your mouth you looked into her eyes, pumping her ass hard again and again, multiple beads of sweat running down your temple as if you were running a marathon, seconds later, after a few violent thrusts. In and out of her butthole you reached your sweet spot, which became more intense due to the eye contact that you and she maintained.

Your cum shot freely into her ass in thick, long streams, which painted every part of her tight butthole and left it full as you moaned uncontrollably, pumping now with the same force but slower. Giselle accompanied you in her orgasm, and she came for the third consecutive time when she felt how your hot load was stored inside her ass.

The moans did not disappear for a few long seconds, in which both you and she did not stop writhing with pleasure, rather a little while passed until you finally slowly came out of her ass, which began to spill an abundant waterfall of cum that made a thick pool on the sheets.

You gave yourself a short break before standing up and going to the bathroom to grab some toilet paper and help Giselle clean up after picking up everything. You didn't let her do anything for herself for a single second, you yourself took care of cleaning her ass, the sheets and even the sweat on her forehead, which you instinctively kissed before lying down next to her and hugging her.

"Fuck, now I can understand how the Itzy girls are so possessive and protective of you," she said with a giggle, snuggling into your body with her arms.

"What do you mean?" you asked, brushing away some of the hair stuck to her face.

"Not only are you the best fuck I've ever had in my fucking life, but you're also so sweet and tender," she said with a smile, tracing circles on your chest with her finger.

"Well… it comes naturally to me, I guess," you laughed, and she laughed with you before letting out a long yawn.

"Honey... you should go," she said in a softer, more tired voice, "we can't risk falling asleep together and getting caught."

"No problem, cutie," you gave her another kiss on the forehead and stood up to get dressed and gather the rest of your things. You were about to leave the room until she interrupted you again.

"I'm sorry you couldn't fuck my pussy, but I was too sore," she said looking at you, lying on your side with your arms curled up to her chest. You approached her, and put a hand on her shoulder to give her a kiss on her lips.

"Hey, it was perfect," you assured, "besides, it's going to be a long tour, right?" you said with a giggle, and she giggled back. You winked at her, and then turned back towards the exit.

"One more question!" she said, and you turned around, “was fucking my ass as good as eating it?”

"Better, so much better," you said with a seductive smile, you blew her a kiss and finally left her room towards yours.

You were so distracted looking at your phone that when you got to the hallway where your room was located you didn't realize that Noze was standing in front of your door. You looked up at her, meeting a pair of furious eyes, Giselle's bottoms in one hand and the buttplug in the other.

Well, you were pretty screwed.

"This shit is fucking unacceptable!" She said loudly and then buried the bottoms and the buttplug in your chest, extremely angry with you, "Am I supposed to trust you like this? Don't fuck with me!" she shouted, "I'm not always going to be around to clean up your damn messes, so this better be the first and last damn time something like this happens!"

She finally walked away and left you there alone, with Giselle's bottoms and buttplug in your hands. You were completely stunned, as you had never seen a person as upset as you saw her in your life, much less with you. You didn't know what the hell to think, the only thing you felt inside your chest was a great feeling of disappointment towards yourself for having failed Noze.

You went to your room completely collapsed, leaving the objects in the corner of the bed and lying down on it completely dejected. You grabbed your phone, which you hadn't checked in a while. Multiple unread messages.

You sighed, realizing that Noze had not been the only person you had disappointed today, but also Ryujin. You dedicated yourself to responding to all the messages, leaving Karina and Winter as read.

When you finished answering the messages, you didn't even bother to change your clothes, you simply left your phone on the nightstand and fell asleep with the window of your room open, letting the cold wind accompany you to rest after that bittersweet evening.

#giselle smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #fanfic smut #x male smut #x male reader smut #x male reader #male reader smut #male reader insert

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yabakuboi · 2 months

Text

Robin has a love-hate relationship with Steve-and-Eddie. Love, because those are her best friends and her best friends are in love with each other and they never leave her out of anything. Hate, because sometimes she wishes they would because she keeps accidentally third-wheeling herself.

She doesn't hate it that much though, if she's honest. It's just fun to complain, especially because it riles the both of them up.

But right now, she's being quiet so she can witness one of her secretly-favorite Steve-and-Eddie rituals—of which there are many, but this one is silly and endearing.

It starts like this:

The waitress sets down their drinks, lemonade for Robin, coca-cola for Steve, and a cherry soda for Eddie.

"Don't you dare," Eddie says, even as Steve reaches for Eddie's drink, slipping his straw in next to Eddie's and slurping obnoxiously. Eddie doesn't even pretend to stop him anymore. "Unbelievable."

"I just want to taste it!"

"You could just get a whole glass of it! All for yourself!!"

"It's too sweet, I don't want a whole glass."

"What, so you think you can just help yourself to mine?"

Steve's grin is far too smug, even for Robin, even when Steve slides it to her so she can take a sip. Steve is right, it is really too sweet and she wrinkles her nose, but it's worth it for the offended gasp Eddie makes when she slides it back to him.

The diner is their favorite, because everyone who works there has given up on understanding their weird dynamic: Robin and Steve squished into on side of the booth while Eddie's spread out on the other, Robin making gagging noises whenever Steve brushes against her, even though they never sit in any other configuration. The staff has long since stopped asking which of them was her boyfriend, and that's perfect for her.

Besides, she knows that under the table, Steve and Eddie have their ankles locked together like the disgusting love-sick dorks that they are.

The Steve-and-Eddie show continues when their meals come out. Chicken fingers and fries for Steve because he's an actual child, and breakfast for dinner for Eddie because he likes to be contrary. And then the real performance begins.

They "fight" over the ketchup bottle, which really means that Eddie picks it up and Steve snatches it out of his hands—only for Steve to spread it over Eddie's scrambled eggs (gross) for him before he adds a disgusting amount to his own basket.

Eddie makes a game of stealing Steve's fries when he thinks he isn't looking (Steve is, he's tallying each one up in his head, Robin knows this because she's doing it too), and when he finally "catches" Eddie in the act, he steals Eddie's last piece of bacon—the one that's sat untouched for the last five minutes for this very reason.

Then, Eddie's "forcing" Steve to try his grits, like he does every time, and game eats a spoonful of it, every time, and then complains at length how much he hates it (and he actually does hate it, the texture is just not for him, Robin knows because it's the same for her too).

And then they do the worst, most disgusting thing ever: they split the pancake in half. Without fail. Without argument. Every time.

Robin, slurping on her strawberry milk shake that she will NEVER share with anyone ever, thinks that stupid pancake is like the symbol of their love or something. Sh's sure if they weren't in public, they'd be feeding it to each other.

"What?" They say it in unison, and Robin hates when they do that to her.

(Eddie complains about it right back at her, because she and Steve do the same thing to him all the time. They should blame Steve, since he's the common denominator, but he just looks so pleased about them both that they can't rag on him for it, so Eddie remains Robin's sworn enemy and vice versa.)

"What what?" she sneers at them, voice quiet. "You two are disgusting, it's like you're making out right in front of me right now."

"What are you, homophobic?" Eddie hisses back, just as quiet. "I'm in love with your best friend, Buckley. I'm making out with him in front of you for the rest of your life."

"Ugh! I hate you so much."

"Right back at you."

And then they start kicking at each other beneath the table, no doubt catching Steve's ankles in the crossfire. He doesn't tell them to stop though, and Robin can see that pleased, sappy smile on his stupid face out of the corner of her eye, so she lands an exceptionally harsh blow to Eddie's shin in retaliation for making her best friend so happy. He digs his heel into her toes in return.

#steddie #steddie fic #this was originally meant for a steddie love month prompt but i missed posting it up LOL #when will i write steddie without robin??? never #their three musketeer-ism is so important to me #they probably fight over her for best man at their wedding #and they are joint best man at her's #the robin eddie rivalry for steve's love but also they are steve protection squad and steve gossip mongers and steve hecklers #steve 'affection-starved' harrington absolutely thriving having two ppl obsessed with him rn #my fic #dribble drabble

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t-lostinworlds · 21 days

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Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff

》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.

》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)

》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.

++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—

He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.

Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.

Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.

It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?

Wrong.

Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose.

He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.

"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.

"It's��" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."

You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.

Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.

He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.

And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.

So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.

"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"

It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.

But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.

Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.

"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.

Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.

"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not really."

Your bottom lip went.

He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.

"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.

He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.

Today wasn't an exception.

Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.

But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.

"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."

"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.

"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."

"No, I know," you sniffled.

"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,

"I don't want to eat alone."

Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.

"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."

•••

A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.

Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.

He couldn't contain his chuckle.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"

"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.

"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.

Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.

"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.

"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."

You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"

"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.

Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.

"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."

Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.

God you were so fucking cute.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."

You cried even harder.

Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.

"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."

He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."

Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.

"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.

He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.

"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."

It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.

But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.

What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?

"How about I ask them to change it?"

Again, wrong thing to say.

He needed to get better at this.

"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"

You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.

He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.

"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.

You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.

"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.

"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."

You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.

"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."

"Shut up, Barnes."

•••

You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.

But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.

It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.

Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.

Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.

Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.

Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.

Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"

"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.

Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.

"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."

"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."

That made you cry even harder.

"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."

Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.

How could someone be so selfless and sweet?

"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."

"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."

"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."

"Really?" you sniffled.

"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."

That earned him a small laugh.

"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.

"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."

You scrunched up your nose adorably.

"That was so cheesy."

"But it's true, though."

You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.

"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."

"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."

You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.

He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.

When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.

That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.

Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.

His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.

A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—

Yeah.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!

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© t-lostinworlds, 2023 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

#bhh #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #sebastian stan #my writing

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risuola · 24 days

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▶ MOM ISSUES — late night talks, cuddles and a lot of theatrics. that's what you get when living with your friends, but your mom seems to see it a little differently.

contents: college!au, roommates — 0,8k words

a/n: there it is! i've been thinking about this story for months, drafting dozens of scenarios and finally it's happening! this series will be made of short pieces about three best friends turned roommates that slowly realize there's more to it than just friendship. it's not gonna be chronological, more so a series of random moments from their adventure - in the masterlist i'll try and organize it in an order, more or less. also, as you read it, can you hear Suguru's nagging voice when he calls Satoru's name or is it just me?

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

First thing you learned at the beginning of your university journey is that no amount of sleepovers and cuddles could ever justify sharing an apartment with two grown ass men. To your mom, at least, because once you told her that you and your two best friends – Satoru and Suguru – are going to live together, there’s not a single phone call that goes without her assuming you’re being regularly subjected to domestic violence and sexual harassment. They are men, she always tells you and it’s been long since you’ve given up any attempts to tell her otherwise. They were futile after all and what surprised you the most was that your boys are no strangers to her.

With a low grunt you made your way above Satoru’s ass and dropped onto the mattress in the middle. Both men shot you a short glance before resuming their things – the white haired one was playing a game on his phone and the brunette was reading a book.

“How’s mom?” Gojo broke the silence, cutting the thick tension around you with his voice. “Still convinced we’re fucking you dumb every night?”

“Satoru–“ Geto was quick to nag his friend and his manners (lack of them, actually), and the other one didn’t skip a beat before defensively asking “what?”

“No, it’s fine,” you sighed, covering your face with your hands, hoping to squeeze out some stress out of your head that way. “I can’t believe it. She knows you two for over a decade and it’s only now that she’s absolutely convinced I’m being abused even though she knows I’m safe with you.”

“She used to feed us cookies and now what?” Satoru gasped, his theatrics reaching a critical point as he dropped his phone onto the pillow and fake-sniffled dramatically, clutching the fabric of his white shirt over his chest.

“Do you want me to give her a call?” Suguru offered, now focused more on you than on his book. He reached to you, pulling your hands away from your face and brushing some stray hairs away from your forehead. There’s a delicacy to his movements, a subtleness that the other one of your friends lacks and you’re yet again made aware of it, when Gojo throws his arm over your middle, pulling you towards his body as if you weighted nothing.

“No, Sugu, it’s pointless,” you replied, exhaling deeply and patting the strong grip away before it got a chance to suffocate you. The very aggressive cuddle only got more intense and for a brief moment you thought Satoru wanted to squeeze you out like a toothpaste. “Besides, we all know that whenever she talks to any of you, she’s as sweet as honey. It’s only me who has to listen to her weird assumptions.”

Gojo scoffed and giggled at the same time, a huff of air brushed against your cheek as he nuzzled his nose right next to your temple, threatening to bite your cheek. “Told you she’s gonna get addicted to criminal podcasts when you were introducing her to Spotify and you didn’t listen to me,” he said in a light tone and the few seconds of silence that followed made your heart skip few beats. Any sudden loss of words is always a bad sign when it comes to the blue-eyed princess. “Does your mom know about our sleeping situation?”

“Oh god, no,” you whined, pushing his face away before his teeth sunk into the flesh of your cheek that he always insists, reminds him of mochi. Sugar addict.

“Should I accidentally send her a selfie with our bed in the background? On the group chat?”

“Satoru.” Suguru grunted, nagging again and visibly reconsidering all the life choices that led him to being friends with Gojo. You knew that look, you saw it many times over years of friendship with them.

“You can do that, Toru,” you replied, your tone dead serious. “But if you dare, I will change my number into yours in her phone and you’ll be the recipient of the shitshow it will cause. And you know the hell will break loose.”

“Throughout heaven and hell, you alone will be the fucked up one,” Geto mused, pressing the dark red, hand-painted bookmark that you gifted him a year prior, between the pages of his book, ultimately deciding that it’s enough of reading for today.

“Point taken, no pictures then,” Satoru hummed and nodded once, ignoring the obnoxious insult and he let go of you, suddenly not overly dramatic anymore. He got back into indulging his phone-gaming addiction.

You let out a small sound of resignation and helplessness and crawled underneath the sheets. Suguru soon joined you on the pillows and as you quietly chatted the time away, Gojo fell asleep, nuzzled between your shoulder blades.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

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📸📸📸

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, sexting, sending nudes, f receiving oral, unprotected p in v sex, mentions of pregnancy

y/n: what time are you home?

you know you could go and check his schedule that he sent you access to, but honestly, you just want an excuse to communicate with rafe. it takes him twenty minutes to reply, meaning he’s really busy, because he never takes more than five to get back with you.

rafe: 7:30. you should eat dinner without me.

y/n: when are you gonna eat?

rafe: i’m working through dinner. will make something when i get home

you love how hardworking rafe is, but hate how he will sometimes ignore his needs to get something done. he’s taking you on a week-long vacation soon, and he’s doing a lot of extra work to prepare for being off, as if he doesn’t already have enough to do.

you sigh and throw your head back onto the pillow, glancing at the alarm clock. only 1pm. you hope rafe at least paused for lunch, but you’re not sure you can wait a whole six hours to see rafe, especially considering he left before you were even awake.

y/n: i miss you so much

10 minutes pass before you get a response back

rafe: i know baby, i’ll be back before you know it, and we will have all that time alone soon

you know while you’re looking forward to the upcoming vacation, rafe needs it.

y/n: i want alone time with you right now :(

rafe only reads the message, making you pout, wondering why he’s not given you a response. it’s most likely that something else has just come up, tearing his attention away, but it still makes you upset, wanting to override anything else for him.

you leave your phone on the bed and head to the closet, pulling out a couple of things you know rafe can’t resist. you start with his favorite lingerie, a pale blue that shows off your tan, then layer it with his favorite dress, it’s a white cotton sundress that just drives him absolutely crazy every time you put it on.

you sit back on the bed, placing your phone on the pillow and posing, using the self timer to take a couple innocent pictures.

y/n: do you like my outfit? *two images attached*

rafe responds instantly, making you laugh.

rafe: i love it. what is it that i see peeking out from under the strap?

you knew rafe would pick up on the blue lace peeking out. you tug the dress off, careful to hang it back up, wanting for sure to take it on your vacation, before taking a few more pictures, in a lot less clothes.

y/n: oh, just your favorite *one image attached*

rafe: baby… you know i’m at work

y/n: i know… i just miss you so bad. need you.

you do consider for a second that you don’t know exactly where rafe is, and he could have had anyone sitting near him see you scantily clad, but you need and miss him too badly to care.

rafe: you have to be patient, darling. 7:30.

you roll your eyes at the message, knowing no way in hell that you were waiting 6 hours to see your husband.

rafe: i’m going into a meeting now. will check on you in 30 minutes, okay honey?

you smirk to yourself, knowing 30 minutes is the perfect amount of time to get yourself into a little bit of trouble.

you open your camera up, taking hundreds of photos in the lingerie, venturing into wild poses and sending all the best ones to rafe.

you then start to strip away the lingerie before you get an idea, sliding the straps back on before starting to record a video. you stay silent, knowing rafe is more than likely going to have to watch on mute. you smirk at the camera, blowing a kiss before reaching behind you to unclip your bra, giving what you hope is a sexy wiggle of your shoulders as you slide it off, exposing your breasts. you grip them, opening your mouth in a moan, shutting your eyes to imagine rafe’s hands instead.

you move onto your underwear next, getting onto your knees and turning so your ass is facing the camera. you slowly slide them down your legs before spreading your ass, revealing both your holes to the camera. it’s the most scandalous you’ve ever been, but you’re extra needy for rafe today.

you flip over so you’re back facing the camera, keeping your legs spread wide as you run a finger down the center of your chest, over your naval, until you dip into your core, not suppressing the shudder that moves through your body.

you stop the video there, sending it to rafe without really thinking of the consequences. you know that you’ll get punished when he gets home, but that homecoming will be a lot sooner than originally planned.

you lay down on the bed, completely nude, and try to do something to pass the time. you try scrolling through social media, or playing some mobile games, but you can’t get your mind anywhere other than between your thighs.

you let a hand trail down to between your legs, not yet rubbing directly on your clit, but near enough to make you moan. you open up your secret folder of rafe. it’s mostly shirtless pictures you’ve taken of him at on the boat or around the house, but there’s a few nudes in there as well, only sent when you’ve been away from each other for a long time. rafe isn’t one to normally send pictures, preferring to interact over a video chat instead.

you pause your play before you get too excited, opening up your chat with rafe.

y/n: i’m touching myself

y/n: thinking of you

y/n: i need your cock so bad, baby. come home and take care of your wife

you head back to the folder, flipping through pictures as your fingers rub over your clit. you press a finger inside, rolling your eyes back in your head as you prepare for the feeling of rafe’s cock inside of you.

you swipe to one of his nudes, admiring from top down, how wide his shoulders are, how his abs are even more prominent in the low bathroom lighting, eyes finally trailing down to his cock, hand wrapped around it, mid-jerk.

rafe: baby…

your heart skips a beat in happiness at his response.

y/n: still touching myself… i need you rafey

rafe takes 10 minutes to respond, and you hope that it’s just filled with him canceling meetings and driving home.

rafe: heading home now

you let out a little cheer, springing up from the bed, smoothing down the crumpled sheets, deciding to wait downstairs for rafe. you forgo any clothes as you get ready for his arrival, lighting a candle and setting it on the living room coffee table to scent the whole house, and turning on the perfect amount of lights to create a moody atmosphere.

“princess.” rafe calls, and you hurry to the front door.

rafe smirks when he sees you, pulling you in for a kiss. “there’s my little brat.”

you hum against his lips, having expected some punishment. rafe shrugs off his jacket, leaving him in a crisp white button down and professional yet stylish pants and shoes. rafe in his business attire always leaves you feeling extra horny for him, wanting nothing more than to slip his cock out through his pants and get on your knees for him.

“i’m sorry, rafey, i just missed you so much.” you pout, pressing kisses to his jaw. “i couldn’t wait.”

“i had so much work to get done, you know?” rafe grabs your wrist, leading you into the kitchen. “had to cancel four different meetings, and i could barely concentrate in the last one after you sent me that picture.”

you try to kiss rafe to make up for it, but he stops you.

“bend over the island.”

you quickly do as he says, getting up on your tip toes to lean over the island counter, glad that you took the time to clean it this morning. your bum sticks out, and you know exactly what is to come. rafe’s punishment is hard and swift, but he always makes up for it after.

his hand swats at you ass, making you mewl as you try your best to keep quiet, knowing any comments are only going to extend the spankings further.

rafe lands a few more blows, but they’re overall very gentle, not wanting to actually hurt you, more using it as a delay to giving you your pleasure, but you know what is coming, and it has the wetness between your legs increasing, starting to drip down your thigh.

“you really can’t wait, can you?” rafe laughs, sinking down to his knees behind you.

“what are you?- oh!” you’re cut off as rafe buries his face into your pussy, his tongue lapping at your slit, wanting to taste everything you have to offer.

you know he must have been desperate for you too to not have punished you any more than a few light spankings, but you honestly don’t care as his tongue flicks over your clit.

you drop your forehead onto the cool counter, already having built yourself up before rafe got home, and wanting to hold back on your first orgasm to enjoy rafe eating you out for longer.

rafe hums as he practically makes out with your pussy, alternating between using his tongue and pressing wide, open mouth kisses to your sensitive skin.

“rafe, oh my god, right there.” you moan as he sucks on your clit, knowing that your orgasm is very quickly appraoching.

“cum for me.” rafe says when he pulls away momentarily, kissing along your ass, covering the red marks in smooches. “cum all over my face”

with that, he buries his mouth back in between your legs, making obscene slurping noises that have you blushing, whole body starting to shake, half from the exhaustion in your legs, half from the pleasure.

“oh my god, rafe!” you scream out as he flicks your clit rapidly, making you see stars as your orgasm washes over you like a wave.

rafe slows his licks, letting you ride out your orgasm until you’re satisfied and slumped, boneless against the counter.

“come here.” rafe says softly, helping you stand up straight. rafe kisses you gently, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as you stretch out your sore legs. the kiss quickly turns passionate, rafe groping your tits as you work on the button on his pants before unzipping them, letting out his hard cock.

“aren’t you happy you came home early?” you ask rafe as he lifts you so you’re sitting on the counter, his cock the perfect height to slide over your pussy.

“always happy to be home with you, wifey.” rafe says, dropping his head to kiss along your neck while he continues to grind against you, giving you some time to recover from your orgasm.

“fuck me, please.” you ask rafe, giving him your best doe eyes.

rafe gives you one more peck on your lips before nodding, taking his cock into his hand and lining it up with your entrance, sinking into the familiar place. your walls adjust perfectly to him, moulding around his cock.

“feels so good.” you whine, bending your legs at the knee and bringing your feet up onto the edge of the counter, opening you up wide for rafe.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he starts to thrust, the sound of his trousers slapping against your skin creates a thwap that vibrates throughout the kitchen.

it’s extra obscene, you completely nude, versus rafe still completely clothed, right down to the shiny shoes on his feet.

“perfect.” rafe says, already sounding slightly out of breath. “the perfect pussy for me, baby, just like you’re the perfect girl for me.”

you moan at his praise, pressing kisses along his jaw and neck, at least what you can get to that’s not hidden under a collar.

“i love you.” you tell rafe, always getting the urge to remind him when his cock hits that one place inside of you.

“i love you too baby.” rafe says, squeezing your hips tightly. “even when you’re a brat and send me dirty pictures to make me come home early.”

“it worked didn’t it?” you smile, knowing exactly what your cockiness is going to get you, as rafe delivers a slap to your hip before leaning down and sucking a hickey into the crook of your neck, bound to create quite the bruise that you’ll have to cover up tomorrow.

“can’t wait until a week from now, and this is all we’ll be doing.” rafe says, and your mind goes foggy at the thought of your vacation being completely sex-filled, not sure if you can handle all of that.

“maybe i’ll bring you back home pregnant.” rafe says, making you gasp, tightening your pussy around him at the thought of it.

“you like that?” rafe laughs, throwing his head back as he fucks you even harder, showing you no mercy as he works himself up to orgasm. you feel tears fall from your eyes at the hard thrusts, but you ignore it in favor of bringing a hand down to rub your clit, trying to time your orgasm to the same time as rafes. you can tell from his pulsating cock that it’s not going to be long until he’s spilling inside of you.

“close.” rafe warns, and you aren’t far behind. the second you feel his cum start to spurt inside of you, you also fall, burying your face in his shoulder as you moan, unconcerned with your noise level.

“that’s it.” rafe says, rubbing a hand up and down your bare back as shivers overtake your body. he slowly thrusts until he’s completely spent, before gently slipping out of you, knowing his cum is without a doubt leaking onto the countertop and floor.

“was that worth it?” you ask, sitting up only to be pulled back in by rafe.

“you’re always worth it, princess.” rafe kisses your forehead. “now why don’t i undress and we fuck in the shower? then again on the bed?”

you give rafe an exasperated look.

“what?” he says. “we have to make the most out of the evening!”