#I was so excited to get a Devil and Angel matching pair and then | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kedsandtubesocks · 7 months

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Your boyfriend is missing - but that shouldn’t be a cause for concern… right?

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

wc: 5.6k

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark elements. roleplay that can be read as yandere like behavior, heavy prey/predator, stalking, moment of home intrusion, fear & knife play, sexual allusions, a lot of licking and spit, finger sucking, themes of terror and fear, feral Gojo, aftercare, reader is called (doll, pretty, baby, angel) also everyone is alive & nothing hurts AU…if I missed anything please let me know

a/n: this is my second submission to Willow’s Haunted House Collab! To be honest…this is my first time writing content like this so I’m a little nervous about posting this piece so I appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy! Also big thank you to @willowser & @skeletoncowboys for being the best (and worst) little devils on my shoulder to get me to write this

You’re still surprised Shoko knows this many people. But then again a part of you isn’t.

The Halloween party fills every inch of her nice Tokyo apartment. The array of colored lights dance against the wild costumes and you wonder if you’ve slipped into a pocket of wonderland.

Taking a sip of your drink you also now curiously wonder if your faux blood sucking boyfriend has fallen down a rabbit hole himself.

The original plan was to go in matching couples outfits. But once your slightly erratic boyfriend spotted the dracula outfit at the costume store his grabby hands immediately snagged it.

“I’ll look hotter in this one. You understand right, angel?” Satoru triumphant grin said enough.

Begrudgingly, you did. And you couldn’t deny how gorgeous he looked.

White summer cloud hair slicked back, the realistic fake vampire fangs he wore, and even borrowing your eyeliner to add shadow like depth around his piercing baby blues -

He was the dream of every dark supernatural romance novel.

Now among the blaring music and excited chatter of the party your handsome vampire has slipped through your fingers.

Your feet are starting to ache and your soft bed is calling you home. So you decide to scan the crowd for him.

From your spot in the kitchen your attention flickers out to the thick of the party in the living room. You spot Haibara laughing so bright and looking adorable in his spooky scarecrow costume. Nanami stands beside him, simple devil horns on top of his head and a slightly amused grin coloring his distinguished features.

Geto, dressed in his rather impressive phantom of the opera costume, has been attracting a small crowd. He sits on the couch telling scary stories with the others around him. The look of both a composed storyteller and eager listener paints his handsome face even with the mask covering half his face.

Your eyes continue their search among the party.

Along the stretch of the wall lined with grand windows stands an ink blot like figure.

The apartment’s dim soft lighting mixes with the fun colorful lights strung up. Strange shadows fall among the space and at times you’ve caught it playing tricks on your eyes.

Except you clearly can focus on the striking presence across from you.

The stranger wears an all black cloak that makes them stick out against the windows.

And they wear a ghost face mask that completely obstructs any hope of discovering who this is.

The mask stares out so blankly and it’s a bit unnerving.

People chat unphased. A small group even starts an impromptu dance circle at the new upbeat pop song playing. Everyone exists unaware, or possibly uncaring, at the strange presence of the ghost face.

Yet this person stands so still. The mask also seems to be staring directly at you.

It could be someone needing a small break from the party the same way you lingered in the kitchen alone.

Then ghost face lifts a gloved finger up to the mask’s lips.

Shh…

A strange flutter you can’t fully describe rises in your gut. You simply brush off the action as someone being funny.

You now leave the kitchen to fully hunt for your missing boyfriend.

“Have you seen Gojo?” You ask around but the answers are all the same.

“Nope!” Haibara’s bright response comes with an unworried smile.

“No thank goodness,” the same answer comes from both Nanami and Utahime.

“Maybe he turned into a bat and flew away.” Geto, ever the teasing jokester, has you rolling your eyes.

Shoko jokingly even says “who?” when you ask her.

Now you think your boyfriend has decided to be childish and hide in the bathrooms or closet. Because who else would try to be funny and run away during a party but Gojo.

Shoko, with a carefree wave, grants you free range to explore her place.

You’ve been here plenty of times, but now with so many people in the space an annoyed edge bubbles in you. You want to go home. Now you’re having to peek around hoping to spot your ridiculous boyfriend. And there are no signs of him.

Annoyed and frustrated you snag your phone to simply message him.

[Where are you?!]

It takes a moment, but a message comes in from ‘My Bestest Most Handsome Boyfriend Ever.’

Said boyfriend simply replies with one lone emoji.

[🤫]

Another message rushes in. It again is nothing but emojis.

[🤭😘]

Simmering annoyance doubles, tempting to turn into frustration, and you rapidly message him back.

[Satoru I wanna go home and if you keep up this up I’m leaving you]

You’d call a ride or see if someone can take you back. You would leave him here.

A notification chime comes.

[let’s play a game baby 🤍]

[oh so me trying to find your ridiculous ass around Shoko’s apartment isn’t a game?]

[so rude!]

[but maybe it is 😜]

You call his phone. It goes straight to voicemail and you want to scream.

You angrily type out another message and hit send.

[fine whatever, you do whatever you want I’ll see you at home]

His reply rushes in surprisingly fast.

[head home angel, I’ll see you when I get there 🤍]

Now that sparks a strange curious peak in you.

But still so annoyed you angrily close your messages. You’re about to head out of the corner of the hallway you’ve been hanging out in.

So deep in your thoughts, you take one step and run into someone -

The ghost face stranger.

You thankfully don’t collide into him. However, your step falters seeing how close the person is to you.

The black robed body fully faces you, their back to the party, as they stand so direct.

“Oh, uh excuse me.” You mutter and avert your eyes worried as you slide past the stranger.

Not a sound comes, not even a reply. The chilling silence, the looming presence, the dark shadow blocking out the light, it feels like you’re trying to tiptoe past something dangerous.

Out of the hallway you check your phone again.

Still nothing from Gojo.

“Fine, stay here.” You huff out loud thinking maybe he’ll hear you.

A soft whisper of your boyfriend’s voice comes.

“…Baby…”

It cuts through the party even on the gentle breeze you heard it. Quickly you look around, but nothing. Still no sign of Satoru. You glance over your shoulder to check behind you.

Instead of being at the previous spot in the highway, ghost face now peers out from the edge of the hallway's entrance.

The plastic hollow mask continues staring so directly at you that a strange unsettled alarm twists your stomach.

It couldn’t be….

But then again…

You shake away curious and cloudy thoughts wanting to form. Turning on your heels you rush to Shoko’s side and announce you’re going to head out.

Nanami, like a true golden knight he should’ve dressed as, offers to drive you home. Haibara happily decides to tag along. Before you head out, a message alert rings from your phone.

[Come find me downstairs!]

You groan. Of course he managed to slip away from the apartment entirely.

“Sorry guys. I’ll meet you two down in the garage. I think I know where my idiot ran off too.” You sigh and thankfully Nanami understands with his saintly patience.

As you slip into the hallway, the noise of the party fades into a muted soft hum.

After navigating Shoko’s labyrinth-like apartment building you arrive at the main floor downstairs. And of course, your boyfriend again is nowhere to be found. In fact, the beautiful sleek modern lobby is vacant. Normally someone sits at the front desk that is currently empty. In the dark evening, the quiet lurks with an unsettling hollowness.

So you quickly message Gojo.

[where are you??]

No response.

You should’ve known this was going to happen.

The eerie silence, the lack of commotion in this normally occupied space, a strange anxiety swarms in your chest. It drains out the annoyance you had for your boyfriend because now, you just want to leave.

Not wanting to stay here anymore you simply head to the elevator and press the button for the garage.

Footsteps echo behind you and you turn.

Behind you is the ghost face stranger.

Standing so terrifyingly still a chill runs up your back as if you’re staring down an actual ghost, trying to process if this being is real or not. The hollowed out eyes, the deep morphed wide frown, all of it intensifies against the pristine lobby.

Then ghost face tilts their head. The small movement seems so innocent, curious even.

The elevator dings its arrival. Hesitantly you step into the lift while trying to keep your eyes on the stranger.

Once fully inside, a moment of pause comes. It again is just you and the mysterious figure staring at the other.

Suddenly, as if possessed, ghost face runs straight towards you.

Fear rips into you visceral and dizzying. You choke on a scream. Faster and faster he approaches. You shakily scramble to slam on the button to close the elevator doors.

The black robed stranger races closer.

The doors start closing. An arm outstretches hopeful to stop the elevator and terror sinks its fangs into you.

The doors however shut fast.

You’re left staring at the white masks unflinching. The doors fully shut and you watch ghost face disappear out of sight.

The elevator ride is quiet, but your loud heartbeat drums rapidly in your ears. The taste of fear in your mouth has you wondering if you unknowingly transformed into a small creature fleeing from a monster in the woods.

You exhale slowly trying to steady yourself.

The garage thankfully arrives quickly and Nanami and Haibara already wait for you there.

“Are you alright? You seem shaken up.” Nanami notices you with keen eyes.

“Yeah!” You lie as truthfully as you can, even summoning a smile to add to it. “Just feeling a little under the weather now. So I’m just ready to get home.”

That appeases Nanami and the three of you head out.

“So did you find where Gojo went!?”

“No.” You sigh, answering Haibara’s bright question.

“I’m sure he just got called away somewhere and forget to tell you!” He positively suggests.

“Or he’s just playing a trick on me thinking he’s being cute when he’s actually just being a headache.” Your dull annoyed comment has Nanami snorting amused and it warms you.

It helps as a chill air breathes into the dark evening. Softly, a distant rumble of thunder comes. A storm approaches. As you head up to the apartment you already happily think of cozy blankets to end the night.

“Satoru!” You call out.

Silence greets you. So much for meeting you at home.

You start the search again. The bathroom, the extra guest bedroom and even the guest bathroom are all once again Gojo-less. You even check underneath the bed and feel silly when you open up the laundry hamper thinking he could have squeezed himself in there as a prank.

But you realize you would’ve at least heard ridiculous giggling at this point. So, you give up.

Ready to turn in for the night you exhaustedly slip out of your costume and into cozier clothes.

You also decide to try calling your dumb boyfriend again. You left your phone charging in the kitchen and head back to grab it.

A flash of lightning comes, a bright surprise illumination dancing from the window. It draws your attention away for a split moment.

You turn and now before you the ghost face masked stranger stands in your kitchen.

Terror seizes you and you freeze in its grasp.

Ghost face’s presence in your warmly light kitchen reminds you of someone taking a sharpie and placing a solid swipe against a scenic painting. It is a terrifying distortion.

“Satoru.” You snap even though your voice wavers.

The masked stranger shakes their head.

No.

“Sorry doll,” You don’t recognize the voice replying to you. It’s deep warped and distorted. Plus your boyfriend never once called you that - doll.

“Don’t know who this Satoru guy is, but he’s lucky gettin’ to come home to you.” The deep and static like masculine voice purrs.

Your heart drops into your stomach

Now truly staring at the cloaked intruder, you realize how large ghost face is. His broad shoulders fill out the space and he radiates an imposing looming force.

Your eyes stay focused on him but you realize if you move fast, you could maybe reach your phone charging.

So you bolt with all your might.

But the masked man is faster.

In two rapid steps he stops you. With a gloved hand the stranger yanks you into his hold. A scream almost escapes you. But it’s knocked out when ghost face curls around you from behind.

A strong sturdy arm wraps itself across your chest.

“Now now doll,” the intruder tsks light. “And here I thought we could play a lil’ game.”

The gleam of the knife comes first from the corner of your eye. Then, the pointed tip starts running up the side of your body with a delicate leisure ease.

Your eyes go wide as the large kitchen knife effortlessly tracing up a path closer to you. It drags across your clothes, slow and unbothered in its pace.

“You know,” ghost face muses. “You really are a cute one.”

A twinkling glee leaks into the distorted voice.

“Let’s play that game I mentioned, yeah?” He continues.

Your throat goes dry as the knife now drags easily up your chest closer to your face.

“I’m a big fan of hide and seek.” The masked man purrs.

The solid arm that was across your chest now slides up allowing his gloved hand to softly curl around your neck. There is no pressure, just the simple chilling sensation of his presence against your skin. It’s a reminder that at any moment he could tighten his hand on your throat.

“You’re just so cute that I wanna chase ya and keep you forever.” His voice manages to drop deeper, entrenched in something dreadfully haunting.

“I’ll give you five minutes to go run and hide,” he whispers softer and deeper. The white plastic of the mask gingerly scrapes against your face. Your body coils a tense knot of emotions you can’t even seem to sort through.

“And then, I’ll go and find you.” His voice oozes out a rich low confidence.

Then cool metal presses against your cheek. Your eyes snap down and find a knife lying flat against your face. Your heart trips over in itself.

Confused panic now clashes with something dangerously dark you dare not name. It only worsens when a gloved thumb strokes your throat soft, reverently, and a heat licks up your body.

“Get to hidin’ doll… run.” Ghost face whispers.

Then he violently rips himself away from your body and like being unleashed from a cage you bolt.

You don’t even turn around to look at the masked man. Instead you dash further into the apartment.

Your first thought is to crawl under one of the beds. But your heart pounds so fast that any true proper thoughts get scrambled.

All you can think of is the closet, the large walk-in closet you share with Satoru.

Rapidly you rush inside it. You wonder if you should hide standing up along your boyfriend's large amount of tall clothes that could possibly hide you.

Until you spot it - a wonderful carved out space you can crouch in.

Once you wiggle your way in you try settling into the space. Breathing slowly in and out you try to gather yourself together. The length of Satoru’s clothes you hope will work as a cover or even a makeshift barrier to hide you.

Safe within the smell of the cologne lingering on your boyfriend’s clothes, you close your eyes to settle yourself down even more.

You sit in the silence. Tension crawls on your skin.

Time begins feeling sticky and the minutes seem to all glue together. You don’t know how long you’ve been in here or how long you will be.

Then heavy boots slowly march into the bedroom.

Your eyes snap open. The footsteps are leisurely, imposing. Your heart jolts hearing every step.

A slow dread that has been spilling into you like an hourglass now shatters as the footsteps draw closer to the door. Out of panic you can’t help but move your hands over your nose and mouth to keep quiet.

The door creaks open and your heart stops.

Your body tenses up at the sight of the black thick boats stomping into the closet.

Then the light of the closet flickers on illuminating the space.

“You in here, pretty?” the masked man calls out.

The air in the room evaporates as you stay as quiet as you can.

From the way his boots shuffle he seems to be glancing among the hanging clothes trying to find you in the space you thought of hiding in earlier.

A sigh comes from your masked intruder, soft and defeated almost.

He starts walking out of the closet. You rationalize that he must already be bored of trying to find you here. A small dosage of relief fills your body. Your eyes even shut close again as you exhale.

You take a moment to gather yourself in your sheltered space.

Simply breathing in and out, your hands stay against your face to keep you quiet.

Wearily you open your eyes.

Ghost face now kneels before you and peeks at you through the dangling clothes.

You’re thankful your hands still clutch over your face because you let out a small squeak of a scream.

His gloved waves at you gently and teasingly.

Before you can move, before you can even stand up, firm hands dart out. Ghost face grabs your ankle and drags you out of your little hidden cave.

Your body slides out with such ease, without any hesitation. You can’t even process how fast it happens. All you can do is stare up at the looming man above you staring down with the hollowed out soulless eyes.

His entire frame, large and imposing, blocks most of the light from the closet. It bathes him in a hauntingly eerie superposition of a black stain against a sun.

“Hi there doll,” He coo’s. “Knew you couldn’t escape from me.”

His gloved hand reaches out and holds your face firm.

The knife’s sharp edge drags up your body, a slow and casual pace. Your heart crawls into your throat as you lie beneath the power of this haunting force.

It’s simply you and him.

And then the ghost face mask man suddenly giggles.

It’s a playful giggle you know so well that not even the voice distortion can hide it.

It’s the one you hear whenever you trip over your own shoes, or when your boyfriend happily steals your fries…

“Satoru.” You breathe out steadier than you expected. A range of emotions tingles all over your body.

“No.” The voice replies but there's a twinkle in the tone now. “It’s me…scary ghost face man!”

“Satoru.” You repeat firmer.

“Who’s that? Is that your boyfriend? He sounds hot.”

You roll your eyes and are about to sit up when ghost face instead sits back releasing his firm grip on you.

The hand previously on your face moves to the mask and lifts it up.

Even before the rest of his face is revealed you spy the widest toothy smile ever. The mask completely slides up and now shining blue skies stare at you.

The eyeliner he put on earlier for his vampire costume is now a smudged mess from the heat of the mask. It paints him in a grunge like appearance that unfortunately for you looks devilishly hot on him

Still, you can’t help but pout at him.

“You should’ve set a timer. I don’t think you waited a full five minutes to let me hide.” You challenge as you start taking off his gloves.

“Yes I did! I even went and took a few selfies on your phone to let the time run!” Satoru challenges back pouting.

Of course he took pictures.

You can’t help but snort. However as you slide off the thick black gloves, your eyes gloss over a bit. The high, the adrenaline, the fantasy, is fizzling away.

Before you can even say anything, Gojo cries a dramatic sob. He flops down to lie completely on top of you.

“Satoru!” You wheeze as he clutches onto you like a childish koala.

Dramatically loud, Satoru wails your name. He rubs his sweaty face against yours. Yet, his bare hands hold you so delicate.

“Are you okay?” Your boyfriend gently asks genuine, low and cautious as if someone else can hear him.

You nod on an exhale. Your body strangely enough feels comforted with the weight of your protector against you.

Your face turns to burrow against his. The scent of his skin, the soft warmth he constantly radiates, all become a lifeline guiding you back.

The sensation running through your body reminds you of walking out of a haunted house attraction or even finishing an intense scary film. Those types of experiences become a way of facing terror as something fleeting, giving you a moment of fear without truly being in actual danger. It’s why you had even jokingly suggested this play in the first place.

Satoru and you had been costume shopping when he first tried to jump out and scare you. Instead he wore a ridiculous deformed bunny mask.

You simply stared at him bored and told him how ridiculous he looked.

“Aw! Where's your Halloween spirit babe?!” He cried.

You shrugged then went back to glancing at the adorable witch costumes.

“Maybe if it was another mask I saw you chasing me in I’d get scared.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice dipped in an intrigued low purr. “You want me to chase you around?”

“Satoru!” You had hissed in embarrassment and even swatted at him.

Gojo leaned down closer making sure nobody heard him as he whispered to you.

“It’s okay, angel. I kinda wanna chase you around too.”

The true serious conversation that occurred at home after that shopping trip led to this exact moment and you still can’t believe it.

Earlier in the week Satoru had coyly suggested wearing the ghost face costume instead of his vampire one. You had playfully shrugged and didn’t think he was serious.

But of course, you shouldn’t be surprised at anything your boyfriend does any more.

“I still can’t believe you managed to change at the party without me even knowing.” You comment.

“Oh that was easy! I just used Shoko’s private bathroom. I even told her to play along if you came looking for me. She also called us sexy freaks.” Gojo happily chirps, a bit proud, and your face heats up so fast you want to claw it off.

You could never look at Shoko again for the rest of your life, but you would manage.

Satoru shifts now to slide you better into his arms as he maneuvers to rest on the floor beside you.

You and him clutch each other warm and tight.

“As fun and hot as this was…I don’t like seeing you look genuinely scared.” He mutters softly against your forehead.

“You had been doing so good and looked so brave. I felt proud. But when I got you in here, you really did look so spooked.” Gojo continues. His voice trails into a soft tone you’ve learned is reserved only for you.

You had been scared, got caught up in the atmosphere.

“You just did your job a little too well.” You joke with a dry chuckle.

“Obviously.” Gojo scoffs. “Did you expect anything less?”

He really is a terror in his own way and you playfully pinch his side.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get too scary. If you did, I would've had to call my strong sorcerer boyfriend to beat you up.” You tease.

“Oh? Your strong sorcerer boyfriend? Are you sure he isn’t the strongest?” Gojo muses bright.

“Not really.” You grin.

He scoffs.

“You might as well have just taken the knife and stabbed me with it because your words have injured me!”

“Heal yourself then mister strongest sorcerer .” You deadpan.

Playfully Gojo lightly bites your cheek.

“But are you okay… Really?” His tone holds a tenderness and undertone of worry.

“I am, I promise.” You squeeze him firm and tight, even begin rubbing your hand against his shoulder.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask firmer now.

Gojo nods, snuggling his face closer to you.

There on the floor, you and Satoru decompress. You find it comforting. After such a high adrenaline play, simply resting with him on the floor feels as if you are easing back into your skin. It’s the solidity of reality settling.

“Wait, how did you manage to change your voice?” You perk up curious.

Satoru happily whips out a simple handheld voice changer.

“I wanted to go all out.” He proudly explains with a beaming grin.

“Please tell me you didn’t use a real knife, did you?”

“Of course not!” Gojo shrieks insulted. “I bought a real fancy prop one online when I ordered my fangs!”

For some reason the thought of him spending money on an expensive movie like type prop makes you almost squawk in horror.

Satoru even playfully stabs your side with the fake knife. The poke comes hard but does nothing and you swat at him annoyed now. He snickers gleefully, a devilish gremlin.

His large calloused hand slides up your face. It kicks you out of your thoughts and your attention flickers back to Satoru.

Your boyfriend stares down at you with an interesting gleam in his eyes. His oceanic eyes are like that of a hunter gazing at its prey with a collected composure trying not to jump and consume.

On top of his cloud hair the ghost face mask still sits.

Satoru Gojo leans above you a beautiful terror of a sight. The gleam from the closet’s light illuminates a faint halo-like glow around him. It also electrifies his bright blue eyes. The black kohl liner now even makes them stand out even more.

The dormant arousal that had simmered earlier now reawakens raw in your body as warmth trickles across your skin. Your eyes even haze over as they stare at his soft lips.

Before you can even say anything, Satoru sweeps down fast and low. A creature striking fast, he captures your lips with his.

His tongue without hesitation licks into your mouth with a devastating dizziness. You clutch onto him tight and desperate. He’s kissing you like you will fade away at any moment, or like he’s enjoying his reward.

His lips chase after yours so messily, sloppily and without any finesse. Teeth click and even spit seems to slip more and more around your mouth.

Suddenly he starts licking at the spit that’s coated your lips and corner of your cheek. He seems possessed as he simply licks at you without any care. Gojo slides his tongue down to your jaw and tastes the salt of your skin.

He nips and bites softly at every inch of you he can reach. You’re reminded of a beast trying to consume with a feral want. A prickling heat now scourches across your body.

Caught up in that same frenzy Satoru kisses down your body over your clothes until he reaches your shorts.

Wearily you open your eyes to glance down at him.

Between your legs is a sight that melts your brain. With his holy angelic eyes, electrified and blown out, along with the terrifying ghost face mask on his cloud head, Satoru is a blissful frightening sight.

He breathes out your name, a ghostly whisper.

Cerulean eyes are now bottomless oceans as he kisses your core over your shorts repeatedly. You whine breathless and desperate, wanting him closer. Glancing down, you see Satoru once more stares up at you with a devouring hunger that has your eyes closing overwhelmed.

He fucks you there in the closet. The taste of it is wild, a frantic claim.

You and him end up entangled with each other, sticky and exhausted still on the floor. The clothes hanging above create a soft canopy.

Satoru’s fingers run up your arm tender while you rest in his arms.

“Who knew the ghost face mask was gonna do that for us huh? Guess Shoko was right. This really means we’re really a pair of certified hot freaks now.”

You screech a horrified sound and want to pummel your annoying boyfriend.

“What!? This is hot as hell baby!” Gojo argues back proudly, almost smug, and it only makes you angrily wiggle away from him.

Of course he keeps you firmly captured in his strong hold and doesn’t budge an inch.

“What if we try this again but with another mask?” Satoru asks dreamily.

“You’re already a clown, you don’t need another mask.” You reply.

“BABY!?” He sobs out absolutely horrified and dramatically hurt. You laugh and curl tight against this stronghold of a man.

“You wound me! I absolutely for sure have internal bleeding right now!” He continues sobbing while he burrows his face against the top of your head.

Being on the floor for so long starts aching so you slowly sit up. Gentle warm hands begin rubbing your back while you stretch. Glancing around at all the discarded clothing littering the floor, you spot the ghost face mask. In the heat of the moment your fingers had carded through Satoru’s soft hair and the mask slipped off.

It so innocently yet hauntingly stares out with those vacant hollow void eyes. A strange urge crawls up your neck and sinks its fangs into you. Grabbing it you turn back to Satoru who stares up at you with a dreamy softness.

“Oh?” He catches the sight of the mask and sits up. His curiosity sparks awake playful and fast. “What do you have in mind?”

You softly shush him and gently slide the mask over him.

With it completely covering his face, knowing fully it’s him and not having to pretend, does break the illusion.

However, it cracks open something new that is dangerously raw and hungry.

Your thumb strokes the side of his face where the soft latex of the mask covers his cheek.

Leaning forward you kiss him over the mask. You taste the annoying synthetic fabric of the mask. Yet a wild heat comes when you feel his lips through the fabric. Satoru’s hands slowly run up to your shoulders to hold you as you kiss him through the fabric.

It ignites a delirious frustration that feels so good. His mouth desperately tries to feel you against the fabric that quickly starts to get wet.

Another raw idea flashes in your mind. Softly you pull away from his lips. You think of Gojo and how his tongue claimed you in a flurry.

So with a soft tentative kitten like attempt, you lick at his lips through the mask.

Something wild unleashes itself in Satoru. He rapidly sweeps you into his arms with his godly strength and simply lifts you up from the floor. His lips moan against yours.

“Keeping this on.” Gojo slurs as he rapidly moves you and him towards the bed.

You shake your head rapidly agreeing. The plush bed hits your back.

Above you, once again the ink stain presence of ghost face stares down at you. Your fingers do ache to run into his hair, across his delicious undercut. But those simple aches are crushed against the clear sight of your Satoru as ghost face. You vividly see Satoru’s broad shoulders, feel the touch of his bare hands caressing your thighs so intently.

“I caught you fair and square, my sweet little treat.” Now it’s his voice, unmodulated and clear as crystal, cooing triumphant underneath the mask.

“Now… I think I wanna unwrap you again.” Gojo whispers and it slices under your skin deliciously.

Beautiful debauched arousal rapidly consumes you as you claw at him wanting him closer.

“You like knowing it’s me under here, baby?” Satoru continues. His fingers begin kneading into your soft thighs, anchoring himself to your body.

His long fingers softly swipe into the slick arousal pooling between your legs and a whimper flutters out of you.

“Me too.” Gojo whispers, almost admitting with a quiet glee.

“I like knowing I'm under here getting to chase you, knowing I’ll always catch you and have you all to myself.”

Pulling his fingers out, they shine coated in your wetness. He slips them under the mask. Suddenly the sound of him sucking fills the room and your mind melts even more.

Satoru groans, drunk on pleasure. Even with the mask hiding his face it somehow heightens the moment and you claw at his arm firmer.

Taking the hint, Gojo slides fully between your legs to draw closer to you. He now takes the fingers in his mouth to slide them into yours.

Your eyes close and roll back. You suck on his wet fingers covered in his spit and the faint linger of your arousal. He begins grinding against you and you moan needed more of him all over again.

It's delicious and dark, this beautiful cobweb of desire you and Satoru are caught in.

“That’s it, angel. Let’s keep enjoying our fun little fright night, yeah?” Your ghost face lover purrs and as you sink into lust’s heavenly darkness, you find you couldn’t agree more.

#I am posting this and fleeing into a pit I’m sorry 😭🤡#also I made the banner myself and am kinda proud 🥹 okay that’s all BYE #Gojo 🩵#ghost face!gojo #Gojo x reader #Willow’s Haunted House Collab

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bakugoyelling · 2 years

Text

Trick or Treat

Tamaki Amajiki x Reader (Dad! Tamaki x Mom! Reader)

Warnings: Babies/kids, family fluff, and a teeny tiny bit of suggestive talk.

Word Count: 1.5 K

Summary: Wearing matching costumes, your family celebrates Halloween by giving out candy.

Halloween is just around the corner, and while yours and Tamaki’s daughter is only a year old and a bit too young to take out trick or treating — she's too cute not to dress up.

He can tell you’re excited to have your little one join in on the fun this year. Handing out candy on the spooky holiday has been something the two of you have done for quite some time. Although usually, you’re the one to answer the door, prancing over to the entryway as you greet bunches of excited children, complimenting their costumes while tossing king-size candy bars into their bags.

Tamaki would occasionally answer, but you’d still be beside him, using the opportunity to show off your coordinating outfits — an angel and a devil, an evil nurse, and her patient — you even once dressed as Morticia and Gomez Addams. That one was definitely a favorite; Tamaki pulled off a mustache quite well.

And this year, you’ll add a new costume to the books.

—

A few weeks later, when Halloween finally rolls around, you can’t keep the smile off your face as you prepare for the night, sorting through accessories as Tamaki dresses your baby in her onesie — a pair of blue wings attached to the fabric.

"Oh, look, here's her headband," you hand your husband the faux antennas and watch in delight as her look becomes complete, her round cheeks and tiny ponytail making her the most adorable butterfly ever.

After she’s dressed up, you and Tamaki don costumes to match. His is a fairly simple version, all-black attire with a pair of wings and an antenna headband of his own — matching colors with your daughter. Kissing him on the cheek, you thank him for always going along with your ideas.

"Well, it's kinda fun when we do it together," he says with a shrug. "If it were just me, it would be weird,"

Chuckling at your husband, you shake your head in amusement, “I mean, maybe...but,” you lean towards him and murmur. “I'd still stop by to get a treat,”

Patting his shoulder, you laugh as he side-eyes you for the innuendo, heading off to the kitchen so you can fill the candy bowl — feeling his gaze on you the entire time. He'll have to remind you about that treat a little later.

But for now, it's candy time. And as the sun begins to set, the three of you prepare to show off this year's costumes, the streets of your neighborhood filling with excitement.

Watching through the window, Tamaki keeps an eye out for anyone dressed too spooky, noting when to keep your sweet baby away from the front entryway in case she gets scared. Other than that, she and her dad make an appearance for the visitors every so often. Sometimes you even answer the door with her in your arms, gasping and softly murmuring, "Look at all the pretty costumes," when a group of princesses show up.

Eyeing their glittery garments, she smiles, shyly cuddling up to you when one of the kids compliments her butterfly wings. The parents of the children can’t help but politely giggle at her behavior, muttering about how cute she is.

Just like her daddy, you think to yourself while smiling, responding with a kind, “No problem,” as the parents thank you for their children's treats, heading off to fill their bags even more.

Throughout the evening, your doorbell continues to ring aplenty. A variety of kids dressed for the occasion, standing on your porch each time, excited to receive candy from you.

Even Kirishima stops by with his young ones, a cheery chuckle leaving his lips when you open the door. Your antenna headband bobbing as you greet him, your wings dazzling beneath the light as Tamaki and the baby stand close behind you — the three of you looking like the most remarkable group of butterflies the man has ever seen.

"Man, you Amajikis always have the best costumes, I swear!" his sharp teeth emit into a beaming grin as he waves to your bright-eyed baby — her wrist rotating in response, waving back at the familiar hero.

“Well, thank you! You guys look awesome too! I love the hair,”

“Yeah, you guys look cool,” Tamaki says from beside you while tossing an extra candy bar into Kirishima’s kid’s bags, their eyes lighting up as they look at each other in shock — thrilled at not only getting one full-sized candy bar but two.

“Thank you, Mr. Amajiki!” they shout in unison, bouncing on the balls of their feet.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, smiling as they step back.

With their candy secured, the Kirishima family say their goodbyes, waving as they walk away.

And while Tamaki doesn’t mind making appearances for his friends, he does prefer to stay back most of the night. But while you’re busy with the baby, there are times when he’s the only one that can answer the door. So he does. And it’s not the kids that make him anxious — they’re usually pretty quiet. No, it's the gasping moms complimenting his costume; that has him wanting to hide.

“A butterfly! Aww, how cute!”

“Oh my gosh, he has antennas too!”

“Oh, uh... thank you,” he nervously mutters as the women continue to swoon, hurriedly dropping a candy bar into each of their kid’s bags so the encounter can be over with and he can shut the door — returning to his preferred spot behind the scenes.

"Wow, he's got the big candy bars!! Thank you, beautiful butterfly man!"

With the treats quickly delivered, Tamaki politely nods to the friendly mothers, and as soon as the coast is clear, he returns to the living room.

“Sounds like you had some admirers,” you joke with your husband, and he dramatically sighs, flopping onto the couch as your daughter walks over to him, grabbing onto the cushions to guide herself.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he mumbles, his eyes cast down to your little one as she makes her way beside him — her steps a bit wobbly but still determined.

"Come on,” Tamaki says, scooping her into his hold and placing her on his lap. “Let’s go back to being a chrysalis,"

Their antenna headbands bob as he presses their foreheads together, his hair tickling her nose, causing her to break out in a joyful giggle.

Trick or Treat!!

But the muffled sound of more children at the door has Tamaki lifting his head, eyes pleading for you not to make him answer it this time.

"Don't worry. I got it,” you chuckle while grabbing the candy bowl from the coffee table.

Opening the door, you’re greeted by a group of two, one boy and one girl. They appear to be siblings, and unlike other children that have visited you tonight, their bags look almost empty. They must have gotten a late start tonight, and as you peek out towards the rest of the neighborhood, you can see that most houses have turned off their porch light, signaling that they are no longer giving out treats. But fortunately, they're in luck.

“Ooo, a dinosaur and a cat! How cool,” you fawn over their costumes, and they smile, graciously thanking you one after the other.

“In fact,” you lean in as if the next part is a secret. “I think your costumes are so cool that I’m going to give you the rest of my candy,”

The two children look at you in awe, speechless expressions gracing their features as you nod, tossing handfuls of candy into their bags until your bowl is empty.

Simply amazed, the boy and girl can only giggle, repeatedly thanking you as they excitedly bounce in place until their mother swoops in to collect them, expressing her gratitude to you with a smile.

Happy to help, you wish the trio a goodnight, and with the last of the candy given out, you shut off your front porch light — Tamaki will be happy to hear that he won’t have to answer the door for the rest of the night.

"Good news," you sing, waving around the empty candy bowl as you enter the living room.

"That was all of it?" your husband hopefully asks.

"Yup, that was everything in the bowl," taking a seat beside him, you sigh, laying your head against his shoulder as your daughter leans into you, her tired eyes looking up at you.

“Now Dada doesn’t have to get the door anymore,”

“Hey, it was just those moms that made me nervous,” Tamaki defends himself, and you lightheartedly chuckle.

“I know, I know. But now all three of us can relax. And after we get our adorable butterfly to bed, we can have our own little treat,”

Meeting your gaze, Tamaki peers down at you. “You mean…”

“Mhmm,” you lean up to whisper into his ear. “I saved two candy bars for us,”

— please do not modify or repost my work

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A/N: There is so much joy in domestic fluff!! Thank you so much for reading. Let me know if you liked it, I love reading your kind comments, and I try my best to reply to them :o)

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #mha x reader #tamaki amajiki #tamaki x reader #💗tamaki #☁️bnha #🌻fluffy stuff #dad!tamaki #mp #m.writes

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ghoultrifle · 7 months

Note

I know it’s a bit early but I really hope we get some fan fiction of phantom celebrating Halloween for the first time

Thank you anon! I took this and kinda combined it with @p1nkcanoe's post here because i adore the idea of the abbey descending into chaos for two months a year. Also big credit to @marsohthree for her Phantom Halloween thoughts!

Here's 1.8k words of Phantom's first Halloween! This is somewhat based on unmasked Phantom but that's just because i never celebrated Halloween as a kid so he's all i have to go off asfhajghaldgh. Stick around to the end for a cute photo of Barbie and Ken! (also this is my first non-smut story and i'm a bit rusty, sorry!)

Phantom was practically vibrating with excitement, yes it was only September 1st but he’d heard today was the start of something called ‘Spooky Season’. Some people (Swiss) called it ‘Spoopy Season’ but that was silly because spoopy isn’t a proper word and it doesn’t even mean scary!

The clock struck midnight, signalling the end of Summer and the start of two months of ghoul-induced chaos, Phantom was loving it. By the time the sun rose on the first of September, the walls of the Abbey were already covered in spray-on cobwebs and the glass panes in the doors stained with a bone-chilling red. Phantom had been the one to source the blood, having recently learned how to hunt with Cumulus; he absolutely was not a natural and the blood covering the walls had sprayed from the new ghoul after he mistook his tail for a rabbit.

All the ghouls from different disciplines of the clergy, including the band ghouls, collaborated on turning the Abbey into a hellfest, literally. They tried to recreate the atmosphere of the pit, only in the ghoul’s quarters of course, they’re not monsters. The mixed quarters, common areas between humans and ghouls, were turned into more of a haunted house with your typical Halloween attractions and scares.

Phantom couldn’t contain his goofy smile as he helped set up the mixed quarters, placing plastic spiders that he animated using his quintessence to occasionally scurry across the fake webs. He was dressed in a slutty devil costume, Rain dressed in the accompanying angel costume. Phantom’s red skirt barely covered his ass and his black mesh top matched his patchy painted nails. Rain was sporting a white miniskirt with thigh highs to match and a halo headband. Of course none of the ghouls needed to dress up, they could simply unglamour themselves, but it was more fun to do it this way.

The first ritual of the day was to carve the ministry’s pumpkins. After the hunting mishap, the pack decided Phantom was not to be trusted with a knife and was instead relegated to design and project management. He chose a bat design, of course, and carefully stood on his tiptoes watching over Aether’s shoulder as he carved out the flying creatures. Once the new ghoul was satisfied with his elder’s work he picked it up like a baby and would not let go, showing it proudly to everyone he met.

It got so bad he almost took it into the shower before Dew whisked it away, “Nuh uh lil guy, I am not cleaning pumpkin seeds out the drain. You can have it back after.” Dew proceeded to accidentally drop the pumpkin as he was walking back to Phantom’s room, startled by the motion-activated skeleton in the hallway. So instead of a pumpkin, the quintessence ghoul was met with a ‘forgive me?’ pair of bat plushies, it was love at first sight. They’re named Barbie and Ken and, yes, they're dressed in pink cowboy costumes.

Time passed as Phantom eagerly awaited The Day. In the meantime he’d often be found wrapped up in toilet roll, launching himself out of the shadows at passers by, trying to scare human members of the clergy and failing miserably, “Why aren’t they scared by my costume, Mounty?” he’d pout. “Well, you do it every morning so I think they know to expect you by now.” Mountain replies. This only inspires the mischievous ghoul to up his scare game, his dream career being a scarer at a haunted house after the pack took him to Halloween Horror Nights.

The next day Aether and Omega had their work cut out at the infirmary as three clergymen were admitted for various fright-related conditions. Phantom bat-hung from the ceiling, the corpse of a freshly-hunted rabbit in his bloodied mouth, canines poking out as he smiled at the passing humans.

Phantom was forbidden from wearing anything other than normal clothes or slutty costumes from that point onwards.

In the days leading up to Halloween, the pack were sent on a trip to gather themed food for the ministry, Frankenstein crisps, ghost marshmallows, and of course sweets for trick-or-treaters. They thought it would be funny to let Phantom loose in the supermarket with just a list, the poor ghoul only just having learned how to read. “What’s this say?” Phantom asked excitedly, gasping for air as he ran back outside to where his pack was waiting, “Gummy worms, darling, you know the ones?” Cumulus replied the first time. Phantom nodded his head, skipping back into the store, only to jog back out minutes later.

“What ‘bout this one, Aeth?” He questioned, pointing hurriedly at the list. “Can’t see when you’re waving your hand around like that, Bug!” The older ghoul chuckled, moving Phantom’s hand away, “Ah, this is a tricky one. It says choco-late eye-balls.” Aether answers slowly as his hand traces the syllables on the paper. “If you can’t read anything else, just buy something spoopy!” Swiss shouts as Phantom shoots him a death stare from the store entrance.

It took five times as long as it would have taken if the pack joined Phantom, but the little guy enjoyed it too much for them to intervene. The ministry was now fully stocked, ready for the end of October.

Phantom awoke at 3am, the witching hour. His quintessence was tingling with the spirits of those below, rising for their day to shine. Today was the day. He restlessly walked to the kitchen, ready to eat despite the hour, to be met with a very tired Mountain. “Bug, what are you doing up? I thought we taught you how to read clocks?” he asked, still awake from the previous day. “Is Halloween Mounty! I couldn’t sleep any longer, too excited!”

Mountain sighed, clearly Swiss hasn’t been teaching Phantom how to tell the date as well as the time, “Tommy, it’s only the 29th of October, Halloween isn’t for another two days.” He frowned, upset for the eager ghoul. Phantom’s eyes began to water, tears instantly falling at the realisation, embarrassed and dismayed.

“Oh it’s alright, Bug, we can celebrate today if you’d like? Think of it as a practice!” Mountain replied frantically trying to abate the weeping ghoul. He pulled out his phone and texted the groupchat:

Mountain (3:06am): Ok ghouls change of plans… we’re celebrating Halloween today. Be ready :)

Dew (3:07am): huh? halpoween isnt todsy tho

Cumulus (3:07am): Yeah, what? What have you been meddling with Big Boy?

Mountain (3:10am): Phantom thought it was Halloween today and now he’s crying because it isn’t. I can’t bear to look at him like that so I told him we’re doing it today ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Mountain (3:10am): Not my fault btw! Someone (@Swisstopher) didn’t teach new bug how to read the date

Swiss (3:18am): …

Come sunrise, the pack was ready for the rootin-ist tootin-ist Halloween this side of October 31st. Mountain and Aether were dressed up as cowboys, basically an Arthur Morgan cosplay. Aurora wore Phantom’s devil costume with Rain still sporting the angel side. Dew and Cirrus were both zombies, full makeup (and a bit of unglamouring) making them look truly horrifying. Cumulus is wearing a sexy police outfit, because fuck the cops, right? And Swiss is shirtless, wearing a toilet seat cover with ‘Dracula’ written on it in sharpie, “I’m sexy dracula, OK?!”

Phantom was sitting on the edge of his bed, kicking his legs in excitement, ready to start the day. He was adorning a bat costume he made all by himself. It was a black cloth with eye holes cut out and some metal wire to make wings, Aether helped with that part.

They spent the day watching low-budget horror films and eating the Halloween goodies that they’d been saving for trick-or-treaters. Phantom was snuggled on the sofa right in the middle of the large ghoul cuddle pile, chirping happily as he realised how loved he was, his pack did this for him. They sat all day in their uncomfortable costumes just to give him the best not-Halloween ever, and it wasn’t even sundown yet.

Phantom sat by the front door, his tongue poked out as he tied his shoes, ready to go out. The whole pack was coming with him on his first candy hunt, except Dew, he’d gone on a smoke break and was taking so long they left without him.

Dew was, in fact, not on a smoke break. He was carefully knocking on the door of each house the pack was going to visit, “Hi! Yeah I know it’s not Halloween but my friend thinks it is, so could you just play along, please?” he asked, far too many times on behalf of what looked like a fully grown adult. Most of the houses complied, and the few that didn’t, well, Dew gave them a 20 and they quickly got on board. Nothing was going to ruin his Phantom’s night!

And so, one-by-one the occupants of the nearest village were met with a bedraggled Phantom in his homemade bat costume. “Trick or treat?” He’d shout, arms outstretched, holding a comically large bucket for the size of the ghoul offering it.

“Oh sweet thing, happy Halloween! I love your costume, did you make it yourself?” One old lady asked. Phantom nodded as he blushed and twirled to show off the wings. “Very impressive, young man. I think you deserve some chocolate for that, don’t you?” She smiled as she almost emptied a whole tub into Phantom’s bucket, his arms buckling at the weight.

The moon was illuminating the night sky, and the night was winding down. The young ghoul had long abandoned his candy bucket, simply too heavy for him to hold. They walked back to the abbey, Cumulus carrying the night’s haul while Swiss gave Phantom a piggyback, the quintessence ghoul’s legs sore from all the walking.

When they opened the front door, they were met with Copia in bat wings matching Phantom’s. He’d missed the day due to clergy commitments but wanted to show his support for his favourite ghoul. Copia guided them all to the common room where he’d decorated it as grotesquely as he could; bones everywhere, blood dripping from the ceiling, and various speakers playing spooky sounds.

Phantom plopped himself in the middle of the room, taking in the view and soundscape surrounding him as he ate the treats Cirrus left out for tonight, the rest stored safely away from the young ghoul. He couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to be in such a supportive pack. Oh boy was he ready for actual Halloween.

and they were roommates

#spoopy is a word #trifle answers #trifle writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #ghoul hcs #cumulus ghoulette #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #aurora ghoulette #mountain ghoul #the band ghost fanfiction #halloween

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

Text

Pride and Envy

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Frankie Morales x Female Reader

◆

Word Count: 14k (did this get away from me? Hell yes. Do I regret it? Hell no.)

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) Jesus, there’s a lot in here

Alcohol consumption, flirting, praise kink, daddy kink, size kink, anal kink, spanking, spitting, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral (m and f receiving), male masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of anal sex and anal play, multiple orgasms, cum play, established relationship, established friendship.

◆

A/N: Well happy Sintober to me…

Thank you to my amazing beta-readers @phnyx and @fishingforpike 🥹♥️

◆

Sintober Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

“You sure you wanna wear that tonight, babydoll?”

He’s staring at you from behind, watching you dress into your costume. And while you can see his reflection in your floor-length mirror, you turn around to get a better look at him after hearing his words.

“What do you mean?” you ask him, frowning slightly. You then look down, hands smoothing over the delicate fabric. “You don’t like it?”

“Honey,” he drawls, and when you look up, he’s grinning.

Jack walks toward you, holding his arms out and wrapping you in them when he’s close enough. His smile doesn’t fade, purring happily when he hears your giddy giggle, placing a kiss on your cheek before nibbling on your jaw.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off ‘a you while you’re wearin’ that.”

“You can’t keep your hands off me when I’m wearing anything.” laughing, you roll your eyes while he continues to hold you.

Jack was extra excited about tonight, he couldn't wait to see you in this thing. Once the two of you decided on hosting this year’s party, you immediately got to planning your outfits. Once you chose a matching costume set, you presented it to him. And Jack was over the moon with your decision. He always did call you his angel.

To say the least, it was the most revealing costume you’d ever worn for Halloween. You decided on a small, silk nightgown, the smooth fabric a dreamy shade of white. Held up by two thin straps with the neckline diving low, the hem ending a few mere inches past your hips, the outfit showed off far more than what was normal for you. But tonight is different - you just feel so sexy in this. You feel so small and dainty, pretty, perfect, everything Jack always makes you feel. And besides, it’s not like you’re hosting a family gathering. You have every right to look as flirty as you’d like.

Adding to your look is a pair of fluffy white angel wings that, once slid over your arms, sit snugly against your back. And finally, a halo, one attached to a headband that rests comfortably on the top of your head. Simple, but elegant, and oh so pretty.

“You happy with my costume, honey? Is it everything you wanted it to be?” he asks genuinely, taking a step back. You are the one that planned it, after all.

He’s wearing a suit, one he tailored to fit him, of course. If Jack was hosting, he was dressing to impress. And boy did he do that and more. Maroon colors the rich velvet of his outer coat with a black dress shirt underneath. Slacks matching the color of his dress shirt cover his legs, a dark red devil’s tail hanging on the back hook of his belt. He’s also wearing a headband, a black one with red horns on the top. Underneath his headband, his hair is done up quite well, slicked to the side with some hair gel. Jack’s jawline is clean up, cologne dusting his chest and neck making him smell overwhelmingly alluring. And lastly, he’s wearing his shiny, black dress shoes, surprisingly not his cowboy boots. It makes you chuckle; you almost don’t recognize him without them. But altogether, you’re satisfied, more than satisfied with the way he looks.

After looking over his finely-dressed figure, your eyes meet his once again. And this time, you're smirking too.

“You look amazing, baby.” palms on his chest, you lean up for a kiss, once he happily accepts. “I love how our costumes turned out.”

Jack smiles against your lips, reaching around to grip your backside in hand, his fingers slipping beneath the hem.

“You’re tellin’ me.”

Decorations were hung throughout your apartment the night before, neither of you wanting to worry about doing so on the day of. Today, the two of you focused on your costumes, choosing music, and setting out the food. Typical of Jack, he’d ordered a catering business for the spooky get-together. Even though the party wasn’t a huge event, he wanted his guests to be pleased. Besides, there were still quite a few people coming. For Jack, his excitement honestly can’t be contained; he’s been preparing for this day for two weeks. You really married quite the extrovert.

But not everyone was so excited to attend your party.

He thought it was stupid to be so nervous - he was at your wedding for Christ’s sake. And he loves you guys. He’s known Jack for years, decades even, and he’s known you for a while now, too. So, why should he be nervous to see you? You.

Frankie only made the decision last night to come, doing it so last minute that the only thing he had to wear as a costume was his old army uniform. He’s surprised it still fits. Granted, it’s a little tight, but it fits.

“Everything will be fine.” he whispers to himself, taking a breath. For a little crush, this thing has really taken hold of him.

Once the elevator reaches your penthouse, something that makes Frankie roll his eyes whenever he even thinks about the word, he rings the doorbell beside the entryway. Jack did well for himself, anyone who knew him was aware of that. But he showed off his wealth far more than Frankie would if he were in his situation. He sees the vacations Jack takes you on, the clothes he buys you and the restaurants he takes you to. It makes Frankie burn inside; he wishes he could do that for you.

“Frankie! Hi!” your greeting is enthusiastic and wholehearted; you haven’t seen Frankie in months.

“Hey,” Frankie grins, accepting your hug. Though on the inside, his body is on fire with nerves.

He only got a quick peak at your costume but Jesus fuck, you’re an angel? You’re a fucking angel? You look so beautiful like this, so small and fragile. This fits you perfectly; the dress is so smooth, too, he can’t help but run his hands gently along your back.

But before he’s even able to truly enjoy your embrace, Jack appears behind you, a smug smirk on his face.

“Hey Jack,” Frankie nods, breaking your hug.

“Frankie,” he responds, reaching out with his dominant hand. “How you doin’?”

“Good, good.”

While the boys say hi, your eyes roam Frankie’s figure. You’ve never seen him in his army uniform before; you’ve seen Jack in his, but never Frankie. But why would you ever see him in it? It’s not like you had a reason to. Either way, he looks good.

“Come in,” comes your cheerful invitation, stepping aside. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Frankie notices that there are already many people here, some he knows and some he doesn’t. But it’s not hard for him to blend in, he is determined to take his mind off of you.

Everyone here is either a friend of yours or Jack's, all of which both of you know. And to your surprise, your home is more crowded than you expected. But you’re not complaining, and neither is he. In the right setting, you can be just as extroverted as Jack, mingling with every guest you’ve invited and making most of them drinks.

It makes you happy, seeing all of your friends, and each of them in a different costume, too. To your surprise, there isn’t a single duplicate here. Kelsey came as the Scarlet Witch, T and Jess are matching each other as Fred and Daphne from Scooby Doo, Jack’s childhood friend Anthony coming as a cowboy; how typical, you think. But funny, nonetheless.

“Hey Frankie,” you smile, walking over to him. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

There’s music playing and some mood lighting decorating the ceiling of the room, creating a wonderfully comfortable atmosphere. You’re smiling so sweetly, shifting your weight as you tilt your hips, fingers playing with each other in an almost timid fashion. And you’re looking up at him, the kindest expression on your face.

Before Frankie answers, he takes a breath, the smile on his face occurring naturally. He’d already had a few drinks, having been at your party for about two hours now. But since you’re the one asking…

“Um, sure. Yeah.” he nods, shoving his hands into his pockets out of nervous habit.

“Okay, is beer good? We have Coors -”

“Coors is fine,” he answers quickly, wanting to appease you.

You raise an eyebrow at his anxious reaction, releasing a small giggle.

“Okay jumpy. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Frankie exhales a breath, nodding. “You look nice tonight.”

“Awe, thanks.” you grin, leaning side to side. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” Frankie says, releasing a tight breath when you walk away.

He watches you walk all the way across the room, your hips swaying with each step, the muscles in your legs flexing, your small arms moving slightly along your sides. You’re so graceful, he just loves the way you’re built. He’s thought about you before, honestly, so many times. It felt so good to think about you while gripping himself in hand, his other curling into the sheets while he imagined how you’d feel. You’d be soft, wet and warm. The sounds you made in Frankie’s head made him blush, your hair down, your body moving in rhythm with his. The thought of your naked body alone made him nibble on the corner of his lower lip, sighing out a frustrated breath.

He wonders what life would be like if Jack wasn’t in the picture.

“She looks good tonight, doesn’t she?”

Jack’s sudden presence makes Frankie jump, an annoyed breath huffing out of his lungs.

“I… what?”

Drink in hand, Jack points your way, uttering your name before repeating his question, only a little differently this time. “Doesn’t my baby look good in that little dress?”

You may not notice when Frankie stares, but Jack does. He notices every time people stare at you, because it happens often. There were times you’d asked him when out in public if you looked strange or had something on your face, noticing how many people were looking at you. Jack reassured you, chuckling as he’d say, “You’re beautiful, sugar. And I’m not the only one who knows it”. Truly, you stood out, you turned every head in the room. It was strange to you, but to Jack, it was normal. He knew he was lucky to have you.

“She… looks nice.” Frankie decides on, knowing Jack wouldn’t be happy until he got an answer.

Jack lifts his drink to his lips, a wide smirk splayed across them. Both of them watch as you turn, Frankie’s beer now in your hand. You stop to speak to someone, though, and your abrupt halt makes your breasts sway. And ever so slightly, the two men are able to see a hint of your sideboob.

Frankie accidentally releases a sigh, licking his lower lip. And Jack hums quietly, lips still maintaining that shit eating grin.

“They’re soft, ya know.” he tells his friend, taking another sip of his drink.

Frankie turns, eyebrows furrowed. Surely he isn’t talking about your… no. There’s no way your husband would be bragging about how soft your fucking tits are… right?

“What?”

“You see that?” Jack asks, slinking an arm around Frankie’s shoulders as he turns him back in your direction. “That little bit of skin peaking out on the side of her dress?”

“Yeah…” Frankie replies quietly, helplessly. He gulps. What is Jack up to?

“They’re soft,” he drawls, releasing a quick breath. “And so nice to suck on. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve licked them.”

“What are you doing?” Frankie asks, turning to face his friend once again. His quick movement causes Jack to drop his arm from Frankie’s shoulders, but it doesn’t knock the smugness from his face.

“I’m givin’ you a gift.” Jack expresses, raising his brows. “I see how you look at her; don’t you wanna know what she feels like?”

“I…”

“What she looks like under there? Because I’m tellin’ you Frank…” Jack sighs, eyes looking further behind him. “You’ll find heaven under that dress.”

“Jack, that’s your wife. I’d never -”

“What? Eye-fuck her like I’m not standin’ in the same room?” Jack interrupts, one brow raised in question.

This shuts Frankie right up. Immediately, his cheeks burn bright red, and he can no longer hide his embarrassment. Was he really being that obvious?

“It’s clear to me that just because she’s my wife, that doesn’t stop you from lookin’ at her differently.”

“Jack, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want you to…”

This time, Jack waits for a response. He doesn’t interrupt with some cocky or brazen remark, he just waits. And the longer he waits, the brighter Frankie’s face becomes.

Your husband saw every single one of Frankie’s glances tonight. Call it dumb luck, but he just so happened to be near him almost every time. He saw Frankie watching you talk to others, making your friends drinks and dancing here and there around the room. He’d smile when you smiled, he’d laugh quietly when you laughed, he mirrored you. He mirrored your every move. And if Jack’s job taught him anything, it was how to read people like an open book.

“Tell me this,” Jack says in the absence of Frankie’s response. “You find my wife attractive?”

Frankie swallows. But Jack just shrugs.

“Be honest with me.”

And then he sighs, looking down, then over to you, and back to your husband. “Yeah,” he eventually responds with a hesitant nod.

“And how could you not?” there it is, that returning grin. “She’s an angel from above, ain’t she?”

“Yeah, and you sure are the fucking devil.” It's a joke, but Frankie’s jealousy shows through. It only makes Jack laugh.

“Hey baby,” you smile, walking over to them.

“Hey sugar,” Jack returns brightly, wrapping an arm around your lower back when you’re close enough to him.

“Here you go, Frankie.” you offer him the drink, which Frankie immediately takes.

Jesus, Jack thinks, rolling his eyes at Frankie’s eager compliance. Guess he really does have it bad for my girl.

“How’re you doing, babe?” you then ask, turning your head to look up at Jack.

And he smiles, the hand holding his drink rising to your face. With his pointer finger placed beneath your chin, he answers with, “I’m doin’ just fine, baby.”

You don’t notice it, not at first, anyway, but Jack’s eyes quickly dart over to Frankie before saying, “Gimme a kiss, sugar.”

As if you’d ever say no, you rise to your tippy-toes, kissing your husband’s beautifully full lips. Little do you know Jack’s heart isn’t the only one beating out of its chest.

“You okay, Frankie?” it’s a genuine question, a small frown on your face as you analyze his uneasy expression.

“Yeah, he’s alright.” Jack waves a hand at him before he can answer, a half-smirk on his face. “We were just talkin’ about you, is all.”

“Oh yeah?” you reply, clearly amused. “What were you saying?”

Frankie’s eyes narrow as Jack opens his mouth to speak. What the hell is this asshole about to say?

“Just about how pretty you look tonight.”

Frankie breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Frankie thinks you look pretty, too.” he says it like it’s his dirty little secret, and honestly, it is. He’s never, ever talked about this with anyone, let alone the two of you.

“Awe, thanks.” you smirk, looking over at your friend. “That’s sweet of you Frankie.”

And he thinks he’s in the clear until your husband starts talking again.

“Not just tonight though, darlin’. He thinks you look pretty every night.”

Your eyes go from Frankie to Jack, and then back to Frank.

“Oh…”

“And I bet you, Frankie thinks he can treat you better than I do.”

“Jack, shut up.” he finally pipes up, Frankie’s lips holding a tight, straight line.

But he only smirks. “You wanna see how I treat her, Frank? See if you could keep up?”

You’re in complete shock; Jack never talked to anyone this way. What the hell happened between the two of them before you came back?

At this point, Frankie’s angry, but he doesn’t want you to see it. And he doesn’t want to give Jack the satisfaction of knowing he got the better of him. But he can’t help it. He’s staring daggers at your husband, and Jack is withholding Frankie’s anger quite gracefully. He’s unphased by it, truly.

“Okay,” you only speak after a few moments of silence have gone by. “What is happening?”

“Frankie likes you, sweetheart. Thinks you’re somethin’ special. He’s been watching you walk around in your little angel costume all night.”

Now you’re blushing, too.

“How would you feel about letting Frankie see more of you, sweet pea?”

Your head whips to the side, staring up at Jack in disbelief.

“Baby, are you drunk?” you laugh anxiously, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Not at all honey, maybe a little buzzed, but that’s all.”

“Then why are you saying all of this?” you ask, not necessarily offended, but incredibly curious.

Jack shrugs, pulling you even closer to him. “You know I like to show you off.” And then, he looks over at Frankie, who’s still as tight-lipped as ever. “Especially when I see another man eyein’ you.”

Bashfully, you glance over at Jack’s old military companion.

“C’mon sugar, you’re just so pretty…” he leans in, whispering to you, “Let daddy show you off to Frankie, hm? Show him what a beautiful thing I’ve got beside me…”

Slowly, the arm Jack had around your back retracts, his hand lowering to your ass. He cups one cheek gently, and it makes the place between your legs stir. When he leans back a bit, he kisses your cheek, still smirking fully. And then you look up at him, a soft grin pushing up on your cheeks.

You’re unsure of this, incredibly so, but Jack’s praise always made you feel like you were high, like you were under some kind of magical spell. He made you feel so beautiful, so perfect, no matter where you were or what you did. Before him, you had confidence, sure, but that didn’t even touch the ego you have now. And that’s all because of him. And above all, you trust him.

But in Frankie’s mind, he’s having a hard time understanding what the fuck is going on. Is this actually fucking happening?

Jack releases a contented sigh, gazing into your eyes with wholehearted adoration and love.

“But I won’t let him touch you.” he coos, his pointer finger caressing the space beneath your chin. “Nobody touches you but me.”

You release a breath of amazement, of absolute awe. You’re captivated by him. And Jack smiles at this, his deep eyes scanning your heavenly face before turning to Frankie once again.

“What do you say, Frank? You wanna see how I handle her?”

Oh Jesus fuck, it takes everything in you not to moan at those words. Jack could be so fucking dominant and possessive when it came to you, and you fawned over it every single time. And when Frankie releases a quick and heavy breath, you look over at him. And it’s clear that Jack’s riled him up.

Is this a test? Frankie thinks to himself, is this going to ruin our friendship? Is Jack mad?

“Tell you what,” Jack intervenes once again. “You let us know by the end of the night if you’re interested in seein’ how my little girl reacts to me. If not, no worries. You’ll be the only one missin’ out.” Jack winks at his friend, taking another swig from his glass.

“C’mon, babycakes.” he then says, giving your backside two pats. “Let’s go get another drink.”

Frankie was left there with his mouth open like a fish, willing himself to say something, anything - to just make a goddamn move. But before he knows it, your conversation has ended, and the two of you are walking away from him.

The hours pass agonizingly slow, at least for him. You and Jack couldn’t be having more fun with your guests. Every now and then shots are passed around, small crowds gathering in the living room to play cards while others eat and listen to music. There’s also a space in the corner of your large living room where your guests can take pictures in their costumes. There’s a black backdrop on the wall decorated in fake spider webs that cover orange and purple string lights. In front of the set up is a timed camera, which everyone is more than welcome to use to take as many pictures as they’d like. You and your friends take more than what you’d expect, the lot of you moving into multiple poses while you laugh. Honestly, it feels like you’re in college all over again. You’ll have to host the party next year, too, this has been too fun not to.

While you’re busy dancing, and Jack’s busy socializing, Frankie’s still stuck in his head. He’s been invited to… what, exactly? Watch the two of you… be intimate together? While he… watches? Is that really the opportunity he’s been given? He doesn’t care about seeing Jack naked, he has many times before during their days in the military. Granted, they were both in better shape back then. Something Frankie would never admit to was that he was envious of Jack for more than one reason. Not only did he have you, but he seemed to keep himself in shape, too; better shape than Frankie had over the years. He chalks it up to their different lifestyles, which is true, but still, Frankie couldn’t help the feelings brewing inside of him.

And then something pops into his head, this would be his chance to see you, all of you. He’d get to see you naked for the first time, and possibly the only time. Maybe he should take this chance.

“You think you’d like that, honey?” Jack asks, briefly pulling you aside.

You smirk bashfully. “Maybe…”

“Yeah? You like the sound of daddy showin’ you off?”

Glancing down before looking back up, you nod.

“You make me feel safe, baby.”

“That’s my job, sweetheart.” he smiles, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. But then his expression grows a little stern, a little dark. “And I won’t let him touch you; I won’t let anyone touch you.”

“Okay, daddy.” you nod in response. It’s so easy for him to bring out the submissiveness within you.

Across the room, Frankie can see the two of you talking. It’s not hard for him to realize what you’re talking about. With a deep breath, his eyes roaming your slightly covered figure, he finally makes his decision. It’s around eleven at night when he allows the weight of Jack’s offer to be lifted from his shoulders. He’s still nervous about it, but he’s confident with his choice.

The more guests that leave, the more anxious you get. You’re both intrigued and timid; you trust Jack, and you trust Frankie. It’s just… you’ve never done anything like this before, and you never imagined you’d do something like this in your marriage. But it’s not exactly a threesome, you know Jack won’t let Frankie touch you. And while you are attracted to Frankie, you’re thankful Jack will protect you, make you feel comfortable and safe; he’ll make sure you have fun.

While pondering the possibility of Jack’s offer, you can’t help but consider your husband’s cockiness. He takes such pride in your relationship, in you, he just can’t help himself sometimes. And tonight was one of those times. It made you chuckle, thinking back to his words. Now that you know how Frankie feels about you, it’s clear Jack did all of that to rile him up. You love Jack more than life itself, but there’s no denying that he could be quite the cocky bastard.

“You ready to turn in, babycakes?” Jack asks with a grin, quickly giving your backside a grab.

By now, it’s past midnight, and most of your guests are leaving. Whether or not Frankie chooses to watch, tonight was going to be a fun night for sure. The excitement certainly didn’t end when the party did.

“Yeah,” you nod, your hips and lower belly already tingling with arousal.

“You look so goddamn cute in this,” Jack mumbles to you, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek. “My little angel.”

You huff out a small laugh, playfully rolling your eyes even though his words make your cheeks warm. And since Frankie hasn’t come up to either of you, Jack moves his hand to your lower back, now guiding you down the hall to your bedroom door. He wanted to have you wait for him on your shared bed, ready for him to come and undress you. Something about that was so exciting; it really displayed his dominance.

“I’ll be back, baby. Just gonna see everyone out.” he tells you, cupping your cheek to give you a kiss. And you moan into it, more than ready for this portion of your night to begin.

“Okay, baby.”

With your sweet goodbye and your mirroring grins, he shuts the door, turning to walk back into the open space of your kitchen and living room. And to his surprise, Frankie is the only guest left. Stopping at the end of the hall, crossing his arms smugly while leaning against the wall, he stares at his longtime friend. And if Frankie wasn’t already nervous, he sure as hell is now under your husband’s gaze. Timidly, Frankie stuffs his hands into his pockets, briefly glancing down at the floor as he approaches the party’s host.

“I thought about your offer.” he says, clearing his throat as he looks up to address his friend. “She… she’s comfortable with it, too?”

“Yeah Frank, ‘course she is. I wouldn’t ever have her do something that made her uncomfortable.” Jack shrugs, reassuring him. “That’s my girl.”

Even in your absence, Jack’s love for you never ceases to shine through. You’re the most important thing in his life, the best thing in his life. And to top it all off, you’re his, promised to him forever.

“Okay,” he nods, his voice still quiet, shy. “Then… yeah. I’ll do it.”

“Yeah?” Jack responds, an eyebrow raised and his grin grows even wider on his face. He knew Frankie was crazy about you.

“Yeah.” Frankie replies, more confidently this time. “Where uh… where is she?”

Jack jerks his head to the side, the look on his face cockier than ever. “In our bedroom, waitin’ for me.”

For some reason, the image of you waiting patiently for Jack while laid out on your bed makes him hot. And he’s about to see that first hand.

Following Jack down the hall, he stops at the very end, hand reaching out to grab the doorknob of the room to his right. Opening it slowly, Frankie is met with the perfectly clean and organized sight of your bedroom. It’s a dark and modern style, your bed centered against the right wall toward the back of the room. And when both men walk inside, you sit up on your bed. You’d been laying back on your pillows, playing with the sentimental gift Jack placed on your finger.

“Frankie…”

“We got a visitor, honey.” Jack says lowly, turning to shut the bedroom door.

You gulp, smiling bashfully. Immediately, your cheeks burn with anxious anticipation. Leaning back on your palms, you cross your legs, tilting your head to the side flirtatiously as Jack approaches you. He leans down, his presence easing you onto your back as he places his own palms on either side of you atop the bed.

“You still okay with this, darlin’?” he asks you quietly, nudging his nose lightly with yours.

Reaching up, you cup his cheek, gently stroking his barely-there stubble. You look into those deep, dark eyes, full of love and desire, and you nod. “Yes, daddy.” But it’s so quiet, Frankie doesn’t hear it. Not yet.

“Hm…” it’s more of a growl than a groan, Jack’s smile unwavering on his lips.

Looking over his shoulder, he nods toward his friend. “Make yourself comfortable, Frank. We’ll do the same.”

He ends his sentence with a quick wink, immediately returning his attention to you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you’re already breathless beneath him. And it doesn’t help when he starts to kiss you.

On the other side of the room, Frankie’s fists open and close, his palms a little sweaty as he starts to turn into a nervous wreck. He can do this, though, he wants to do this. He’s just… he’s never done anything close to this, not in his entire life.

When Jack moves down to your neck, your fingers carding through his beautiful, mocha-toned hair, you look over at Frankie, noticing that he’s still standing near the door to your room.

“Frankie,” you say softly, letting out a small gasp when Jack’s hips start rolling into you. “It’s okay. We trust you.”

Your words are genuine and so is your reassuring nod, your kind smile and entire demeanor helping him to relax. Looking up, he sees a couple of chairs in the corner of your room with a coffee table between them. He takes a breath, clears his throat quietly, and walks over to them. And once you see Frankie relax a bit, you return your attention to Jack.

“Baby,” Jack moans, completely enthralled by you. His hands reach down, shoving themselves between the bed and your body to grab your ass. “You looked so pretty tonight.”

“Yeah, baby? You liked seeing me all dressed up as an angel?” you coo to him, feeling his teeth drag across your skin.

“Fuck yeah I did,” he growls against you, licking the marks he’s currently making. “Your little body wrapped up in this dress… take it off for me, baby. Wanna see what’s underneath.”

And Frankie does, too. When he hears Jack say this, he sits up a little higher, obviously interested in what you’re about to do. He watches you sit up, Jack leaning back a bit as he slides your angel wings off of your body. Placing them beside you, he then removes your headband, giving you sweet kisses all over your face that make you giggle. Your love is genuine, sweet.

Jack’s hands then fall to the end of your pearlescent gown, watching as you wiggle your hips up a bit so he can lift it off. And once it’s gone, all you’re left in is your white thong. You chose not to wear a bra tonight, and both men are thankful for that. It’s the reason they got to eye the side of your tits throughout the night.

“Fuck me…” Jack groans, hands rising to paw at your chest.

He pushes them together, Frankie’s jaw dropping when he watches Jack’s thumbs rub over your nipples.

“Mm…” he moans almost silently from the corner of your room.

Leaning in, Jack brushes his lips over your hardened peaks, smiling before taking one in his mouth. Your beautiful body arches up into his touch, the fingers that were once petting at his hair now tightening their grip. And Jack gropes you fervently, moaning while he sucks on your nipple before switching to the other. He laps at them, makes them wet and shiny before breathing out a heavy sigh.

“Jesus sweetheart, look at you… look at your scrumptious little body.” he squeezes you so hard it makes you whine, and when you do, he loosens his hold.

And Frankie sighs. Jack was right, they do look soft. Fuck, he wishes he could touch them, grab them and lick them like Jack does. He’d make it so good for you, swirl his tongue around your nipples, nibble on your sensitive flesh…

Rising to your face, Jack’s expression grows a little stern, focused. And under his breath, he says, “Baby… daddy wants to eat your pussy.”

“Mm,” you whimper, hands sliding down to hold his handsome face. And Frankie’s so focused on you that he barely hears Jack utter that special word.

“Will you let me do that, baby?” he asks so sweetly, his voice low yet soft. His eyes dip down to your mouth, your lips parted ever so slightly. And lowering himself just by an inch, he opens his own mouth, his tongue running softly across your lower lip.

By now, you’ve completely forgotten that Frankie is even in the room, and you’re almost entirely naked in front of him. And in his chair, he has what he considers to be the perfect view. He can see some of your face, your bare tits, can hear your sweet moans and witness every movement of your mesmerizing body. He’s already hard and throbbing, his erection fully rising when he saw your naked chest.

“Yes, daddy.”

Did she just… no. She must’ve said something else.

Jack grins, thumb pulling lightly on your bottom lip before he begins kissing his way down to your sex. His wonderfully full lips trail down your body, licking the valley of your cleavage, kissing your stomach and ribs, nibbling on the skin of your hips. When he’s low enough, he steps back off the bed, his hands and mouth not once leaving your skin. His hands then find your ankles, gripping them tight as he pulls you to the end of the bed.

“Oh!” comes your startled yelp, a lungful of air inhaled shortly after.

Your surprised vocalization makes your lover grin, kissing your inner thighs as you spread your legs for him. Jack’s eyes are closed while he worships you, and Frankie leans forward when he sees him start to pull your panties down. Resting back on your forearms, you can see everything he’s doing, his thick fingers dragging away the last garment that dared to hide your body from him.

“Jesus…” he murmurs, dropping your panties on the ground beside him. He then leans in, warm palms sliding up your thighs as you situate yourself on the edge of the bed for him. “Baby, your pussy looks so cute when it’s all smooth and shaven…”

This makes Frankie bite down into his lower lip, desperately trying to paint the picture of your wet, hairless sex. But then, to both yours and Frankie’s surprise, Jack looks up.

“Frank,”

“W-What?” Frankie stutters in response, eyes darting from your naked pussy to the owner of it.

Jack’s lips form a half-grin as he jerks his head to the side, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Come take a look.”

When he says this, you whimper, making his head turn right back around to look at you.

“What, baby? You don’t want him to see?”

Face a neck running hot and heart beating out of your chest, you whisper shyly in return. “I do…”

And it’s the truth; this situation is exciting you to no fucking end.

But Jack raises an eyebrow when you say this, his voice now dropping an octave or two. “Now…” he begins, tilting his head slightly at you. “I thought I taught you how to use your words.”

His sentence makes you swallow nervously, your eyes turning soft and puppy-like. You want to please him. So, taking a breath, you give into him.

“I… I want Frankie to see my pussy.”

“Oh, fuck.” Frankie curses when you say it, unable to believe those words just left your mouth.

Quietly, Jack murmurs a soft good girl while kissing your thigh before addressing the other man in the room.

“You heard her.” Jack says smugly, looking back over at his friend. “Come see.”

He’s almost unwilling to believe that this is happening. He never would’ve thought either of you would let him do this. And it was a sober decision, one that was considered for multiple hours. You want this, all of you do.

Hesitantly, Frankie stands, unsure if he should be too proud in showing off his erection. But he shouldn’t care, both of you know how turned on he is.

“Oh…”

“Ain’t she a pretty thing?” Jack sighs, Frankie now kneeling beside him.

You can’t help but gasp, desperately trying to control your breaths. This is all so new and erotic to you, showing yourself to another man while being with Jack. And you can’t believe he’s this proud, going to such an incredible length to show one of his closest friends how gorgeous you really are.

You’re everything Frankie dreamed you would be; your body is perfect to him. His eyes roam your figure briefly before returning to the space between your spread legs, and he moans when he sees you fluttering. Ever so slightly, a small ounce of clear liquid drips from your lips, Jack’s pointer finger swooping in quickly to scoop it up. But he doesn’t take it into his mouth, he returns it to your entrance, slowly pushing his finger in.

“Baby…” you whine shakily, head falling back on the bed.

“Yeah…” Jack sighs, content when his finger is entirely inside you. “So good for me, honey.”

When your husband retracts his finger from your sex, he returns it to your warm walls at an incredibly languid pace. He does this repeatedly, the slow movement of his thick digit stoking the flame of your arousal.

Frankie wonders what you feel like; he’d do anything to have any part of him inside you. But before he can continue on with his dirty thoughts, your girlish wail pulls him right back to the present.

“Daddy,” you moan passionately, hips jerking when his finger curls. It makes him smile, watching you react to him. Your excitement has risen so high that you’re clutching the bedsheets in both hands, back curving slightly as he pumps his finger into you.

Daddy? She just fucking called Jack daddy?

“Jesus Christ…” Frankie huffs out. So he was right. Turning to Jack, he asks incredulously, “Does she always call you that?”

Leaning in, Jack kisses your inner thigh, those dark, predatory eyes flickering up to the other man’s.

“Always.”

“Fuck me…”

“Oh baby,” Jack then moans, his voice deep and rich. “You hear that? You hear how creamy you are for me?” His voice is sweet, passionate.

“Yes, daddy.” you whine, nodding your head with your eyes fluttering shut. “Yes…”

“You want daddy’s tongue?”

“Yes! Yes daddy, please, yes.”

“Sh…” he coos to you. “You don’t have to beg for me, sweetheart. I’ll give it to you.”

Strangely, Frankie’s emotions confuse him. Because… Jack’s words are turning him on, too. He’s loving your dialogue, hearing how descriptive and amorous the two of you are with one another.

Frankie never knew you had a daddy kink, why would he? But he finds it incredibly fucking hot. He’d melt into a puddle if you called him daddy. An incredible pulse rocked through him when heard you call Jack that the first time, and that throbbing sensation doesn’t go away. It only heightens every time you say it.

By now, Jack’s added a second finger, and you’re all but crying out for him, your hips moving with his pace. Frankie groans again, his breathing now heavy and deep. Both men are concentrated on your delicate center, watching more of your liquid coat your husband’s hand.

Your feet are resting on Jack’s shoulders, giving both of them the perfect view to see you. And amidst it all, Frankie gets caught up in his inner feelings. Leaning forward, Frankie allows himself to see more of you, now throbbing painfully in his pants. And without even really realizing he’s doing it, he turns his head, moving to kiss your calf.

Jack notices, and reaches up to the back of your knee. Angrily, he shoves your leg down, instantly moving it away from Frankie’s face. His stare is intimidating, his voice stern and deep.

“Don’t touch her, Francisco.”

And fuck, Frankie nearly whines. His forehead crinkles innocently, those puppy dog eyes moving away from Jack’s gaze as they return to you.

Inside, you’re buzzing. Jack’s words, his dominant and possessive nature, they make you moan for him. A shiver runs up through your legs when you hear what he says next, too.

“You can watch,” Jack mumbles, biting into your sweet flesh. “But you don’t get to touch.”

“Daddy, please.” Reaching out for him, you beg, beg for him to fulfill his promise.

“That’s right…” he drawls teasingly. “I said I would give you my tongue, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” you whine in response, feeling frustrated with your arousal burning hot.

“You’re right, baby…” he coos, his lips leaving your thigh so he can lean into you. “Daddy’ll keep his promise.”

That’s the last thing he says before his tongue lays out over your clit, making your entire body jolt. The pressure is just right, the skilled muscle feeling hot and wet as it rubs against you. He circles your sensitive pearl with the tip of it, his fingers continuing to bring you bliss. And you roll your hips against him, urging him to bring his face even closer to your sex. As always, Jack complies, shoving his mouth over your clit and sucking it inside.

“Fuck…” your fingers dig into his hair, nails scraping across his scalp as you pull on the thick strands.

He suckles on you like this, eyes closed as he hums in contentment. And Frankie watches with intent, picturing him in Jack’s position the entire time. This is perfect, fucking crazy, but perfect. It’s like he’s finally watching the porn he’s been dreaming about since the day he met you. He’s watching your naked body writhe beneath him, watching your pretty mouth open as you moan and whine, watching your wet cunt be fucked full on what he imagines to be his fingers, all while listening to the squishy-sweet sounds of your sex as it repeatedly sucks his digits inside.

“Ugh,” Jack groans, removing his fingers from you entirely. “Spread it open for me baby,” he demands breathlessly. “Let daddy lick inside.”

Reluctantly, you untangle your fingers from his hair. You feel that same heat of shame crawl up your neck again, now touching yourself in front of someone you and your husband consider to be a friend.

“Spread it open for me, sweet pea,” Jack says again, his voice displaying his fully mesmerized state. “Let daddy lick inside…”

You do as you’re told, hands sliding down until they land on your fluttering center. Gently, you spread your lips for him, sighing out as you do so and shivering at the sensation of your own touch.

“Yeah…” Jack licks his lips, unable to tear his eyes away from you. “It’s so wet for me.”

Both Jack and Frankie can see you glistening, clearly turned on by the brazenness of it all. Who would’ve guessed?

The wet slide of your husband’s tongue is lewd as he laps at you, diving directly inside your warm cunt. It makes you moan, makes Frankie moan, and Jack’s body is exploding with pride. He knows how aroused Frankie is, and he loved calling him out on his shit. Too bad the woman Frankie wants more than anything in the world belongs to him.

“Oh my g-od,” you cry out desperately, your shrill voice music to their ears.

Your jaw is dropped, the sensation of Jack’s fervent tongue sliding along your delicate skin making your hands shake with bliss. And he doesn’t even have to ask, he knows you won’t last long with him eating you out like this. He knew how to bring you your high, knew all the right buttons to press, all the right moves to do. And why not show that knowledge off while Frankie gets to watch?

“D-Daddy, I’m… yes…”

Frankie’s eyes shoot up when you say this. Goddamn, is she going to cum already?

Your shrill whine answers his question, those warm brown eyes staring at you in awe. Jack groans against you, sliding his dominant hand around to your lower stomach so he can hold you down. He presses himself further into you, rubbing his nose over your clit and feeling your hips buck up against his face while your slick washes over his tongue.

“Oh my god,” Frankie groans, licking his lower lip as his voice grows a bit hoarse. Subconsciously, he reaches down to palm himself, squeezing his erection through his pants.

It explodes from within you, the flame that was burning bright in your belly now rising to its full height. Your entire body feels light, euphoria and adrenaline flowing through your veins to create something entirely otherworldly, something truly ethereal.

“Baby,” Jack mumbles against you, still rubbing his lips and tongue over your core. “Taste so fuckin’ good. You know that, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you nod, chest heaving as you do your best to catch your breath. “Yes daddy.” your answer is genuine; Jack always looked at you like you hung the moon, like you’re the only thing that matters in life. And he made you feel like it, too.

With that, Jack lifts himself, crawling over your smaller body. “You’re so good for me.”

It wasn’t just a line with Jack, he truly meant it. The way you tasted made his head spin; it excited him beyond reason to have your thighs around his head, to lave his tongue and mouth over your most intimate space.

Jack grabs your face, yanking your chin down as he slides his tongue directly into your mouth. Your muffled moan makes Frankie’s eyes roll back, a rough sigh coming from his chest. And through it all, Frankie realizes that you’re entirely naked while Jack is still dressed, while he’s still dressed, too. And honestly, that’s so fucking hot to him, to have you be the very center of attention in this room.

By now, Frankie’s actions are shameless. He hasn’t pulled himself out but he’s rubbing his palm over his pants. He grips himself in hand, squeezing his shaft while he moans. And while Jack continues kissing you, Frankie looks down, just barely able to see your slippery lips. He thinks back to what Jack said; Jesus, he’d give anything to taste you.

Jack turns his head when he hears Frankie whine. He’s really gettin’ into this. After pondering his next thought, Jack moves off of the bed.

“Baby?” you ask, pouting slightly as you lean up to look at him. You loved to taste yourself on his tongue.

He sighs, hands falling to his belt as he begins to undress. And when you realize what he’s doing, you release an excited sigh. But while you’re staring at Jack, Frankie’s staring at you. You’re still dripping, your sex even more wet now that Jack’s spit is all over it.

“Honey,” Jack says, gently shaking his head. He then licks his lips, lifting his dominant hand and swiping his thumb across his chin to gather your slick. Your lips part in awe as he keeps your gaze, popping his thumb into his mouth. “You taste so sweet…”

“Daddy…” your sigh is released from your chest, the movement dramatic and airy.

And then he grunts softly, hands returning to his belt along with his gaze. “Give Frankie a taste, will you, sweetheart?”

At this, your jaw fully drops, a look of shock washing over your face. Is he about to let Frankie eat me out?

Frankie’s head whips around upon hearing Jack’s words, just as surprised as you. Jack slips off his dark red jacket, now moving to unbutton his dress shirt while his pants remain open. And when he doesn’t hear either of you move, he looks up.

He grins. “Just like daddy did, sweetheart, just a second ago.”

Looking directly into your eyes, Jack slips off his dress shirt, now shirtless in only his pants. He moves toward you, cupping your face with both hands when he’s close enough to.

“I want you to put a finger in your pretty little pussy, and when you take it out, I want you to offer it to Frankie.”

Your head doesn't move in his hold, but your eyes do. They flicker over to Frankie, who’s looking at you with incredible desperation. He has a hand on his crotch, and this is the first time you’re seeing him touch himself. It makes your body run hot.

Jack turns your face with one hand, putting his cheek right against yours as the two of you look at your friend.

“See him, baby? Can’t you see how desperate he is for you? I told you, he wants you, baby doll.” and then he turns his head, pressing his nose and lips against your skin as his voice lowers once again. “Give him a taste of your sweet little pussy, and let him know that’s the most of you he’ll ever get.”

A small gasp slips out, having looked into Frankie’s eyes the entire time your husband spoke to you. Your chest inhales a deep, shaky breath. And Frankie’s does, too.

“Okay, daddy.” you finally nod, licking your lower lip.

“That’s a good girl, baby.” he smiles against you, giving your cheek a sloppy kiss before he steps back.

This time, Jack watches, slipping his belt out of its loops when you move a hand down to your core. Eagerly, Frankie shuffles closer. He’s blinded by you, by his want for you, blinded by the sensations you bring his body without even laying a fucking finger on him.

“Oh…” Frankie whimpers, eyes dropping to where your finger is.

Shamelessly, he palms himself, watching intently as you slide a single digit inside. And you whine when you do it, quietly, just barely. But they notice, of course they notice.

“Frankie?” it’s said timidly, just as you’re pulling your finger out of your sex. And Frankie can see how wet it is, can see it glistening with the arousal Jack pulled from your core.

“Oh, fuck me…” he doesn’t even care anymore, he feels high, the entire situation making his body buzz with arousal and anticipation.

“Yeah, baby.” Jack praises, now only in his boxers. “You’re bein’ so nice to him.”

“Mm…” you moan, both from Jack’s words and the eager motion of Frankie shuffling closer to you.

Nibbling on your lower lip, you offer it to him, tilting your head slightly. And before he takes it, he sighs roughly, shaking his head before looking into your eyes. “Thank you.”

“Oh,” his gratefulness makes you sigh; he’s such a sweetie.

Right after that last word, Frankie’s mouth envelopes your finger. Immediately, his eyes close, his throat releasing an almost painful groan. His muscles shake slightly, tongue swirling around your small finger.

“What d’you think, Frank?” Jack asks, that smug expression written all over his face. “Did I lie?”

“Mm-mm,” Frankie shakes his head, not bothering to open his eyes or remove himself from your finger to respond.

“He loves it, baby…” you whisper in awe, moving your finger further into his mouth while he whines. Frankie hasn’t stopped touching himself either, gripping his leaking erection while he sucks your cum off of your finger.

“I told you he would, sugar.”

Walking back to join you in bed, Jack grabs your wrist, easily pulling your hand away from Frankie. And when he does, the man on his knees looks up at your husband, heaving out desperate breaths. “You enjoy yourself?” Jack asks, almost angrily.

“Fuck yes.” Frankie breathes out, staring up at your beloved. And to you, seeing Jack like this is beyond sexy; he looks so strong and controlling.

“I’m glad,” Jack responds, turning his head to kiss your palm, “Because that’s all you’ll ever get.”

And if that’s true, Frankie’s thankful he savored you. Jack was right, you are sweet; fuck, he can’t beleive he got to taste your pussy, taste your cum. He also can’t believe he didn’t wreck his pants when he did it.

“Oh,” he moans quietly, watching you move onto all fours.

“You know what’s comin’, don’t you, baby doll?” Jack grins proudly at you.

You nod eagerly, smiling from ear to ear. Reluctantly, Frankie moves back, watching as Jack fully undresses. And now that you’re both naked, he feels comfortable pulling himself out. Quickly, he returns to his seat, unzipping his pants to release his erection from the tight confines of his uniform.

Frankie had reason to be jealous of Jack’s body, he was more fit than him. Again, different lifestyles, but fuck, did it get to him. Not only was Jack’s arms more muscular than his, his stomach was more toned, too, an area Frankie was particularly insecure about. How does he still look so fucking good at this age? What really gets him is Jack’s cock. Jesus Christ, Frankie rolls his eyes. I guess that fucker has reason to be cocky.

Eventually, Frankie’s focus returns to you. With you on your hands and knees like this, he’s in the perfect position to see your entire ass and pussy. And fuck, did Frankie love your ass. It’s so perfect, so round and it looks so soft. Maybe he’ll get a peak at your little hole, too.

“You gonna be good for daddy?” Jack asks, grabbing onto his base.

“Mhm, yes.” your answer is expected, but it still makes him happy.

“What do you want, sugar?” Jack then inquires, stroking himself mere inches from your lips.

“I want to make you happy, daddy.”

Jack looks amazing like this, standing before you in his full form, his entire body on display for you. Even though you saw him like this nearly every day, it was always such a treat.

“Awe,” he coos happily, reaching down to grab your chin. Gently, he tilts your head up to look at him - you’d been admiring his stomach and chest.

“Daddy’s happy when he fucks your pretty face.”

Oh my god, Frankie’s eyes roll back. How is Jack’s dirty talk so fucking good?

“Mm…” comes your muffled moan, already allowing in Jack’s tip.

Frankie’s glad he finally freed himself; he’s leaking so much he doesn’t need anything for lube. His tip is crimson and throbbing, aching, and all for you.

“Yeah…” Jack sighs, one hand on the back of your head as he watches you take him. And as you do, you bend down, arching your back. You do this so Jack can see your body better, not even considering the fact that you’re doing the same thing for Frankie.

“Jesus, honey.” huffing out a quick breath, Jack’s head snaps back down, both of the men moaning as they hear you choke. “Fuck.”

He tries to go slow, running his fist up and down and just barely teasing his tip. He doesn’t know how long this will last, but he wants to, he wants to last long enough to see this entire act.

“Baby, baby,” Jack pants above you, watching your sweet, innocent eyes look up at him while you hold his cock in your mouth. “C’mere angel, let daddy give you some spit.”

Immediately, you lean up, your insides tingling.

Wait, what? What is he doing? Frankie’s eyes narrow, trying to see what’s happening. He also wonders, does he call her that all the time? Or just because it was her costume tonight?

Now on your knees, Jack holds your face in both of his hands. He hums happily, lowly, thumbs swiping gently across your cheeks.

“Are you my sweet girl?” he whispers quietly, looking deeply into your eyes. “My sweet girl who does whatever I say? Whatever I please?”

“Oh, yes daddy. Yes I am.”

Hearing Jack speak to you like this never ceased to set your body alight. You already came once, but you’re ready to do so all over again.

“You’re so good, babycakes…” he smirks, staring down at your perfect lips now. “Open your mouth for me.”

Instantly, you comply, watching as your lover leans down to spit into your mouth. It’s a soft, slow drip, Jack’s plush lips pursing just above your open mouth.

Frankie’s jaw drops in disbelief as he groans. Holy fuck, does she always do this for him?

And while keeping your mouth open for him, you moan wantonly, forcing another surge of precum to drip from Frankie’s tip. Upon hearing your moan, Jack’s erection throbs, his brows folding up in the center as he releases a soft moan.

Keeping it on your tongue, you lower yourself back down, swirling the wet muscle around his tip before you engulf him fully again. Lazily, Jack’s hips rock forward, pushing himself in and out of your mouth. Both of his hands rest on your head, petting your hair lovingly. He then closes his eyes, head falling back as you moan around him.

Jesus, Frankie can only imagine what it’d be like to be Jack right now. He thinks about how velvety warm your mouth is, how amazing it feels to have you moan around him, to shove his cock into your throat and feel it suck him further down.

“Fuck,”

Jack chuckles; he’ll never let up with this. And after tonight, he’ll never let Frankie live this down.

“Fuck Frank, she’s so good at it,” he drops his head again, watching your mouth move over him. She takes it so deep, too…”

Jack’s praise serves two meanings, to express his gratitude for you, and to stir the jealousy roaring fiercely inside Frankie’s belly.

“I bet she does…” Frankie gets a little bold, tugging at himself much harder now. “Lucky fucking bastard.”

Another chuckle huffs out from Jack’s chest. But he keeps his eyes on you. “You’re tellin’ me…”

He takes this opportunity to tighten his grip on your head, forcing his cock down your throat. It makes you gasp and choke, sputtering slightly from the sudden intrusion. But you collect yourself quickly, relaxing your muscles so Jack can fuck himself down your throat. With every shove, he rocks you backward, the fat of your ass jiggling right in front of Frankie’s face. His scrotum draws tight to his body, and he has to slow down to stop himself from reaching his high.

Fuck, fuck.

“Jesus baby, you take daddy so well, yeah…” Jack grunts with every thrust, eyes glued to your naked form below him. “Daddy wants it in your throat, honey, he wants to cum down your throat.”

Oh, so that’ll be it? Frankie assumed Jack would do more. Maybe his stamina isn’t so good nowadays. Maybe that’s something Frankie has on him.

“Just like that, yeah… keep it goin’ sweetheart.”

Jack can feel you hollow your cheeks, can feel your tongue moving beneath him. And you can taste every drop of precum that lands on your tongue. Your nose occasionally bumps the curly hair at his base, taking every inch of him down your throat when he thrusts into you.

“Fuck…” he looks further back, watching your ass bounce as he fucks your mouth. Keeping one hand on the back of your head, still shoving his hips against you, he leans forward. And you already know what’s coming.

“Mm!” comes your muffled shriek, feeling him smack your ass.

“Jesus Christ babycakes, how do you do this to me?” he’s breathless, gripping the flesh of your backside in his strong, broad hand. “You’re amazing…”

Frankie throws his head back in the chair, baring his teeth briefly. Sweat lines his brow, frustration filling his bones. Lowering his fist, he squeezes his base, staving off the impending orgasm that just won’t fucking go away.

“Oh baby, daddy’s gonna cum.” Jack chokes out, brows folding up in the center.

Huh, that was quick, Frankie thinks smugly. But Jack keeps going.

“And then he’s gonna fuck your pretty pussy, he’s gonna bury himself deep inside…”

The moan you emit around his length sends him over the edge, fucking leaping off the goddamn cliff as his orgasm hits. His groan is erotic, passionate, his body curling over you slightly as his hand returns to your head. Both hold you still while his hips jut against your face, the pulsation of his cock on your tongue making your center tingle.

“Ugh, f-fuck!” Jack exasperates, lips parting as he forces out a breath.

It shivers through him, shooting through his limbs. And it feels so good that he laughs, he fucking laughs above you. He empties himself down your throat, feeling your soft swallows and smiling fondly. It’s thick and smooth, the muskiness of it washing your mouth in his scent and taste. His muscles twitch slightly as he pulls out of your mouth, looking down and cupping your jaw once he does.

“Let me see,” he whispers to you, watching you rise to your knees. “Did you do your job, baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod, opening your mouth.

Jack smiles brightly when he sees you’ve swallowed his seed, his dimple showing as he expresses his delight. You were good, just how he’s taught you to be.

“That’s such a good girl, baby doll. You did such a good job for me.” and you absolutely keen, falling into Jack’s arms when he pulls you into him.

She likes to be praised, huh? She always did seem like a good girl…

“Daddy wants you on top of him, sweetheart. Show Frankie how you ride your daddy.”

“Really?” you ask, looking up at him with excitement in your eyes.

“You know how much I like it,” he grins, giving you a soft kiss. “Ride me, baby. Wanna show you off.”

Even though he’s already done that and more tonight, you smile, moving backward and allowing him to climb onto the bed. When Jack lays down, he’s already half-hard again, and this does nothing for Frankie’s exploding envy. He watches you move over him, kissing up his stomach, nipping at the taut skin of his chest.

“Angel, turn around for me.”

You pout. “You don’t want to see me?”

“Course I do, baby. But I want you to see Frankie. Just look at how desperate he is for you, honey.”

Looking over your shoulder, you make eye contact with your husband’s longtime friend. Bashfully, he looks away, pinching his eyes shut when he swipes his thumb over his tip.

“Daddy…”you whisper in awe.

Frankie’s thick, almost as thick as your husband. He’s uncut too, a trait different from that of Jack’s.

“Show him, honey,” he purrs, hands caressing your hips. “Show him how those pretty tits bounce when you’re on top of me.”

This makes you bite down on your lower lip, now moving to complete your love’s request. Turning, you situate yourself above his pelvis, now facing Frankie.

“You’re so pretty…” it comes out before he can stop it; he can’t help but fawn over you.

This makes your cheeks tingle, your skin becoming warm once again. “Thank you, Frankie.”

Jack hums behind you, smoothing his hands over the crease of your thighs. He squeezes your ass from behind, his head resting on two pillows so he can watch you, too.

“Sink down on me, honey, sink down on daddy…”

On his gentle command, you do, reaching down to grab his length and lift him upwards toward you. Both men watch with intense focus as you lift your hips, mouth dropping when Jack’s head slips into your entrance.

“Mm,” he groans, fingers squeezing your hips. “Yeah…”

“Oh fuck,” Frankie moans, eyes wide and almost submissive. And you smile; you’ve never seen him be such a puppy.

“Oh…” it comes out gentle, feminine, the sound soft and sweet as it floats from your mouth.

Jack’s hands aid in your descent, his eyes glued to where the two of you meet. Inch by pleasurable inch, he enters you, dragging along your walls until you’re fully seated on his lap.

“Yes, baby,” Jack praises, gritting his teeth. “Yes…”

Eyes fluttering open, you’re now able to see Frankie fully. He’s shoved his pants down to his ankles, his cock pulled out of his boxers and leaking all over his hand. Now that he has your attention, he feels the overwhelming desire to show himself off, shamelessly pulling back his foreskin to reveal his nearly purple tip. He swipes his thumb over the top of it, a string of precum made visible when he pulls the thick digit away.

“Oh…”

“You lookin’ at Frankie, baby?” Jack asks from behind, feeling you lean forward to place your hands on his thighs.

“Yes.” you answer quietly, submissively.

“Yeah? You like what you see?”

Swallowing, you answer truthfully. “Yes…”

Jack’s voice then becomes dark. “You think he could fill you up better than me?”

And when he asks this, Frankie’s heart nearly stops. You were truthful with your last answer, will you be truthful now? And you are; you aren’t ever willing to lie to the man you love.

“No,” this time, your response is quicker than your last, and you sound sure of the word. Softly, you shake your head, your eyes trailing over Frankie’s figure. “No one ever feels as good as you, daddy.”

“Oh god,” Jack grits out, grinding up into you and reveling in your tiny whine. “You’re my girl baby, my good fucking girl.”

“Yes, daddy.” you nod, eyes rolling back slightly before they close altogether, your hips moving shortly thereafter.

Frankie likes to think you lied to save Jack’s ego, but on the inside, he knows you didn’t. You love Jack, that much is true, and that’s part of why he feels so good to you. The bond the two of you have is incomparable to any relationship Frankie has ever seen.

Regardless of your answer, Frankie doesn’t let up, his strokes becoming faster as he watches you ride his longtime friend. Frankie’s never had voyeuristic tendencies, so this is all very new to him. Honestly, he didn’t ever consider this, didn’t ever think he’d like something like this. But with you? Jesus, if he had turned this down, he wouldn't have known what to do. How could he ever say no to you?

Your movements become more forceful as you continue, throwing your head back and thrusting your chest out. Your breasts bounce and sway with every movement, Frankie now gawking openly at them. He rests back in the chair, gripping the armrest with his free hand while his breathing becomes unsteady.

“Yeah, honey.” Jack continues on, unable to keep himself from talking. And you love it, dear fucking god do you love to hear him speak. “Go on, fuck yourself open on me.”

“Fuck,” it’s utterred quietly, breathlessly, leaning on his thighs for balance as you move your hips over him.

“You sexy little thing, ridin’ me like this. Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Always so tight around me.”

Jesus, I fucking knew it. I knew she’d be tight.

“See how well she takes it, Frank?” Jack asks with a huff of a laugh. “She’s always like this, so sweet and eager with me. My perfect little girl…”

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie spits into his hand, and when you hear him do so, you open your eyes. And when he sees he’s caught your attention, he does it again.

“Oh,” you sigh gracefully, watching Frankie’s cock pulse when he returns his fist to his hand.

You always considered Frankie to be attractive, but seeing him like this has definitely brought that emotion to new heights. You’d never be disloyal to Jack, you’d never even dream of it. All you’re acknowledging is… Frankie can be fucking hot.

“Oh honey,” he breathes out, spreading your ass as you continue to move. “I can see your little hole, it’s flutterin’, baby doll.”

Your neck and chest burn bright at his comment, licking your lower lip as you grin. He could be so dirty sometimes. And of course he’d choose now to show that side of him. So, you decide to reciprocate.

“You wanna play with it, daddy?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Frankie can’t beleive you just said that; you like anal too?

Frankie has always had an anal kink, he loved to lick it, finger it, fuck it. But honestly at this point, it wasn’t just a kink, it was a full-blown fetish. And to see you in such a position is a fucking dream come true for him.

“Babycakes,” Jack gasps out, feeling you increase your pace. “You know I do…” Jack’s voice gets low, trailing off as he focuses on you.

Without taking his eyes off of your perfect form, Jack pops his thumb into his mouth, his hand reaching for your backside when he’s content with how wet he’s made it. For some reason, your eyes fall to Frakie’s as Jack sticks his thumb in, your jaw dropping open and eyes going soft as you moan.

“Fuck, did you put it in her?” Frankie asks, and he can’t fucking help it. He had to ask.

“Yeah I did.” Jack responds cockily, that signature smug grin curling on his lips. He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “How’s that feel, baby?”

“So,” you gasp, swallowing thickly while wiggling back against him. “So good.”

“Fuck me…” your eyes are still on Frankie’s when he says this, Jack moaning while you squeeze him tight, both his cock and thumb.

It burns pleasurably, his thumb swirling in your backside, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. The act makes it harder to ride him; you feel like you’re going dumb.

“Daddy, daddy,” you whine pathetically, throwing your head back and digging your nails into the muscles in his legs.

“Oh… daddy, daddy.” he sighs, sounding cocky though his mocking words come out soft. “What is it, sugar? I’m right here.”

The way Jack treats you makes you feel light-headed, like you’re the most precious thing on the entire earth to him. And you are, and he’s glad you know it.

“It’s… s-so much…”

Frankie looks mesmerized, nearly drooling as he watches you fuck yourself open on Jack’s cock. Lord, does he wish it was him, he wishes he could feel your ass bounce down on his pelvis, see your pretty ass jiggle, spread your cheeks to watch your dirty little hole clench and squeeze. You never imagined Frankie to be so attracted to you, but knowing he’s this enamored by your personality and physique makes your confidence bloom.

The wet sounds of Frankie masturbating in the corner of your room make you moan, watching his slick length drool over his hand. You feel so distracted, not just by Frankie but of course by Jack, by the way he’s making you feel. Your pace falters, but he picks it up with ease. His free hand falls to your outer hip, slamming you down onto his lap when he begins thrusting up. And you cry out for him, whining when you feel his thumb move back and forth in your tightest hole.

“Baby, you’re so tight back here.” Jack tells you breathlessly, that rich southern accent making you buzz inside.

“Yeah, I bet you are.” Frankie nods once, fucking his hand more fervently.

“Oh, look at that,” your husband grins, chuckling quietly. “I guess Frankie likes when I play with you back here.”

“I fucking love that.” it comes out without a filter, without a second fucking thought.

The hand not currently tugging at his cock slides down to cup his scrotum, fondling the delicate skin in his palm. He moans, his eyes going soft, and you whine quietly at the sight.

“Well, why don’t we show him then, sweetheart?”

“Mm, daddy,” you whine, chest exhaling a dramatic breath. “What do you mean?”

Jack takes a second to breathe, smoothly sliding his thumb out of your ass. He gives you a light tap then, barely stinging the outside of your right cheek.

His tone is gravely when he speaks. “Get on your hands and knees for me.”

Without a second thought, you lift yourself from him, slowly and gracefully. Frankie watches you move, licking his lower lip as he slows down his own movements. You crawl forward while Jack slides his legs out from under you. With a soft grunt and a heavy sigh, he rises behind you, resting on his knees. Submissively, you lean forward, resting not on your palms but on your forearms to arch your back more. You’re still facing Frankie, but he can see your ass high in the air now, breathing heavily while watching Jack’s hands slide over your ass.

“You know how beautiful you look right now, darlin’?”

“Hm…” eyes closed, humming pleasantly, you wiggle your hips back and forth slowly for him in a silent display of contentment.

Jack groans behind you, all while showing that beautiful smile. Unexpectedly, he smacks a hand down on your plump flesh, earning a shrill moan from you. Baring his teeth briefly, he does it again, sighing heavily when you cry out again.

“You want me to finger it, honey?”

“Yes…”

“Say it.” Jack quickly demands, his voice low and authoritative. “Tell me you want daddy to finger your pretty little asshole.”

“Holy fuck,” Frankie’s head drops back; how can he be so turned on by Jack Daniels’ words? Quickly though, he lifts his head. Not only does he want to hear you say it, but he wants to watch when your lover does it.

You whimper quietly, pressing your face into the soft blankets covering your marital bed. “Daddy…”

“I told you to say it.”

It’s impossible to be disobedient when he speaks in that tone.

“I want it, daddy,” you inhale a deep breath, gathering the courage as your face burns from the brazenness of his words. “I want you to finger my pretty little asshole.”

“Yes…” comes Frankie’s small word.

“Yeah,” your husband’s word is spoken differently, almost hissed from between his lips as his cock twitches upon hearing your repetition. “That’s so good baby,” he looks down, gripping the thickness of his erection. “That’s so good, did so good for me, angel…”

He’s breathless and rambling, and you know that means he’s having a hard time holding himself back. And when he fucks you in this position, he never lasts long.

Sitting up a bit higher in his seat, Frankie’s eyes are zeroed in on the curves of your ass. Jack spreads your cheeks, a slow drip of spit falling onto your crease. And then he lifts his hand, licking his first two digits before lowering them to your sex. He rubs you with them, furrowing his brows as he listens to your moans. He slides a finger into your warmth, pumping it in and out only a few times. That very same finger then rises, circling your upper hole.

“Fuck, fuck,”

“You think about this, Frankie?” Jack asks, hearing the sloppy sounds of his hand. “You think about my baby girl’s ass?”

Frankie grunts, once again annoyed. Gritting his teeth, he mumbles out, “How can I not?”

“I know,” Jack laughs, “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“Daddy,” your whine pulls both men from their sexual thoughts. “Please put it in.”

You’re pulsing around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you again. You need him to fuck you, to make you cum for a second time tonight.

“Sh…” he hushes you kindly, those deep brown eyes watching as his pointer finger begins to slide in.

“Yes…”

You have such an intense desire for him, to kiss his beautiful lips, to feel his skin on yours, to experience the sensation of him filling you as much as he can. And when that thought comes into your head, you reach back with one hand, grabbing onto his hip.

“Please,”

“Damn baby, you want it bad.” he teases, feeling your nails scrape across his skin.

When Jack’s finger is entirely surrounded by your tight muscles, both him and Frankie sigh out.

“How does it feel?” Frankie asks quickly, “Please tell me how it feels.”

Jack just laughs, but you reply.

“So good, it’s so good, it’s so fucking good. I want more.”

With his free hand, Jack reaches back down, lining himself up before slowly inching inside. The sounds you’re making make Frankie fucking blush, his mouth going dry from having it hang open for so long.

When your husband’s cock is entirely seated inside, he stills, now focusing on the movements of his finger. He pumps it into you, much faster than before. And he spits again, aiding in the slide of his tick digit as he works it into your ass.

“Daddy, yes!”

“Fuck, you’re so good for me, such a dirty little girl for me.”

Frankie leans up even further this time, whining when he gets a full view of your taut asshole. It stretches every time your husband’s finger enters, your muscles squeezing tightly together each time his digit leaves.

“Fuck - I’m gonna cum.” he breathes out, not even wanting to blink.

Now, Jack’s hips start to move, slapping against your ass as he fucks himself into you. Feeling Jack fuck you like this, hearing their collective moans, it’s all so much; it’s overwhelming you.

“You hear that, honey? Frankie’s gonna cum just from seein’ you, just from watchin’ you get fucked.”

“Oh my god…” it’s muffled, your fingers gripping onto the sheets while the side of your face presses against the mattress.

And just like that, Frankie’s done. Your high moans, your pretty face contorted in bliss, the sloppy sounds of your pussy and ass getting fucked…

“Ngh,” forcefully, his hips thrust up into his hand, lifting from the seat ever so slightly. The back of his head returns to the top of the chair, mouth agape as he heaves out desperate breaths of air.

Your eyes look to him when you hear his incredibly forceful moans, watching as white ropes shoot from his tip. They ooze out of him, thick and wet as they slide down his shaft. His foreskin moves with every tug Frankie’s hand gives, his sticky-white release making a mess on his hand.

“Frankie…” you’ve never seen him like this, so vulnerable and soft.

Jack smiles, a chuckle bouncing the muscles in his chest. He looks over at Frankie, too. “Damn Francisco, I knew you had it bad for her.”

Jack’s pace doesn’t falter, almost immediately returning his gaze to you. The hand on your ass slides forward, fingers digging into your hip as he pounds you into the mattress.

“And he’s not the only one that sees you like this, sugar.” he tells you, determined for you to know just how captivating you truly are. “I see how other men look at you. You’re a fucking goddess, baby, a goddamn angel. And you’re mine, you’re fucking mine; do you know how lucky I am?”

“Daddy,” you cry out, feeling him plunge repeatedly into your core. “I love you.”

Jack truly is enamored with you, he’s obsessed with you; he’s never met anyone like you.

“I love you, sweetheart, daddy loves you.” and then he spits again, wetting your little hole even more.

“Fuck me!”

Once you say this, he feels your heated walls squeeze him tight, the act of it so forceful it makes him throb inside. And that’s how he knows he’s struck gold.

“Yeah? Right there?”

“Right there!” you groan out enthusiastically.

And Frankie sighs, out of breath but lifting his head so he can continue to watch you. Jesus Christ, Jack’s right, you’re a fucking goddess.

Jack leans forward a bit, stilling the motions of his finger inside you while he now focuses on moving his hips. “Is daddy still hittin’ it, sugar? Huh, babycakes? Is daddy still hittin’ your sweet spot?”

“Ye-es,” it’s a stuttered whine, one said while pinching your eyes shut as he repeatedly punches himself into you.

“It’s okay honey, just relax.” he can feel your body tensing, and he’s more than thrilled to let you experience your second high. “Let daddy make you feel good… relax for me…”

“Mm,”

“I know, baby; it’s hard to relax when daddy’s inside you, huh?”

“Daddy,”

“Oh… I know that whine.” he grunts out with a self-assured smirk. “Let daddy feel it, baby. He gives you permission, he wants you to do it.”

With eager anticipation in his eyes, Frankie watches as you unravel before your husband. Jack continues to split you open on his length, rocking your body with each harsh shove. And when he allows you to let go, to fall apart on your shared bed for him, you suck in an airy gasp. As if on command, you finally crumble, back arching and legs shaking as your lover forces another orgasm out from within you.

“Daddy!”

“Fuck me…” Jack bares his teeth, the muscles in his chest and stomach flexing.

He tears his finger from you, using both hands to keep your body against him. Pushing forward, he grinds his hips into you, keeping pressure on that delicate, spongy spot inside you. It prolongs your high, your eyes shut as your lips part, just barely drooling from the euphoria shuttering through your body. And when Jack grinds against you, he cums too. The feeling of your soft curves pressing against his pelvis, the sensation of your heated inner channel gripping him so tight, it takes the breath from his lungs, the beat from his heart, now fully unraveling above you.

“B-Baby,” he chokes out, hands squeezing your hips with force.

The sensation rocks through him as he releases into you, leaning forward and placing a hand on your lower back to steady himself. He’s breathing heavily behind you, muscles tensing as his hips jerk harshly against you. That part always made you smile, always made you tingle inside. It’s like his body was fully giving in, unable to hold back its arousal and desire, his pelvis rutting into you in sharp, jagged motions. It’s desperate, raw, and something you get to experience with him almost every day.

“Baby…”

“Daddy,” you respond breathily, reaching back with a single arm. He takes your hand, rubbing a thumb over the top of it.

Grunting, he pulls out of you slowly, watching his softening cock slide out from your warm and welcoming sex. Both of Jack’s large palms then slide over your ass, spreading your cheeks so he can watch your pretty pussy flutter.

“Lay down, baby doll.” he coos to you, leaning over your body to place soft kisses on your back. “Let me get a towel for you.”

The moment turns incredibly soft. Frankie can so clearly see the love Jack has for you. And for an incredibly selfish reason, that only makes his envy grow. It’s one thing if Jack didn’t treat you right; then, in Frankie’s mind, he’d have reason to wish you were his. He’d have reason to believe he could treat you better than him. But Jack doesn't treat you bad, nowhere even close to it. Frankie hates to admit it, but Jack treats you better than he ever could. And that’s because the two of you are made for each other, that’s more than obvious now.

Be that as it may, it didn’t suppress the attraction Frankie has toward you. You’re still as sexy as ever, even more so now. He can’t help but feel that way about you, he just can’t fucking help it.

When Jack comes back, he’s holding three towels instead of two. They’re all slightly damp, and he sets a couple on the edge of the bed. Frankie looks over at him, watching as Jack nods and lifts the towel in his direction.

“Frank?” he calls lightly, tossing the washcloth his way.

Frankie reaches out to catch it, nodding while he utters a small yet grateful, thanks.

“Come here, beautiful.”

You’d followed Jack’s direction, allowing yourself to lay down on the bed. Crawling forward, Jack smiles as you turn over for him, now resting on your back. Instinctively, you open your legs for him, sighing gracefully when you feel him drag the wet rag over your center.

In the corner of the room, Frankie’s cleaning himself off, too. He wipes down his hand, cleaning his fingers before moving to his shaft. He’d gotten some dribbles of cum on the lower part of his shirt. Fuck, gonna have to dry clean this.

Jack kisses your cheek and neck as he does this, humming softly when he feels you smile. Your hands brush through his hair until he’s done, pulling away to wipe himself off.

Closing your eyes, you revel in this moment. This has honestly been one of the most exciting nights of your life. And you feel safe, comfortable, being around two men that you trust. You and Jack wouldn’t have done this around just anyone, and who knows if it will ever happen again. All you know is you enjoyed it, and it feels like the entire thing has brought you and your husband closer together, if that were even possible.

He’d been nervous, unsure at first, just like he was before all of it began. But Frankie was a friend to not only Jack but you, too. It was late, and he was tired, you weren’t just going to kick him out. So, you both offered for Frankie to stay in the guest room. He could make himself comfortable, use the guest bath to freshen up, too. And after considering your offer, analyzing both yours and Jack’s kind faces, he agreed.

“Hi, Frankie.” you greet softly, watching him meander out of his room.

You’d gotten up before the two of them, a rare occurrence for you. Jack usually was the first one to wake, but apparently, last night really took it out of him. Once you’d convinced Frankie to rest in the spare room, Jack returned his lips to your body, covering you in delicate, affectionate kisses. You showered together, washing each other’s bodies lovingly before drying off and cuddling up in bed. He kissed your head, whispering sweet things to you before he fell asleep. And you drifted off just before he did, sighing contentedly in his arms.

“Hey,” Frankie returns, his bedhead and sleepy smile absolutely adorable as he walks over to you.

Sitting down, you offer him some coffee, which he happily takes. You’d worried how things would feel between the three of you the morning after all of that went down, but right now, it feels normal, comfortable.

“Um, thank you.” he suddenly blurts out, staring at the mug in his hands before looking up at you. “For last night. I, I felt kind of honored… to see you like that, both of you like that.”

You giggle slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a beautiful woman.” he admits openly, feeling free to express his emotions. “But it was… different than I expected. It was hot, definitely hot,” again, you giggle. “But… I don’t know, you guys just really love each other. Thank you for letting me see that.”

“Awe, Frankie.” you smile, your heart beating affectionately.

Reaching forward, you gently grab his hand. “I hope you know we love you, too. You’re one of our closest friends, Frankie; we wouldn’t have done that with just anyone, we did it because we trust you. And we really hope what happened last night doesn’t change any of that.”

He ponders his response, only for a moment before he shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” Frankie really appreciates what you just said.

“Good.”

Before anything else is said, your husband finally joins the two of you once he gets out of bed. His messy hair is also adorable, walking out into the kitchen in just a pair of sweats. You admire his body, his toned chest, his slightly softening stomach, those sculpted arms, the tawny skin of his neck; it makes you want to jump on him all over again.

“Hi, baby.”

“Good mornin’, honey.” he grins, leaning down to give you a kiss. He then addresses his friend. “How you doin’, Frankie? You hungry?”

“Oh, no. I should get going soon, anyway.” Frankie doesn’t want to be a burden.

Jack shrugs, “Your loss. I’m makin’ pancakes.”

Frankie just smiles. He’ll stay, but only because the air between your small group is making him feel relaxed and secure. He really did appreciate last night, and he appreciates the friendship he has with the two of you. You with your kind heart and sassy words, Jack with his casual and usually merry personality, Frankie likes those things about the two of you. And it’s clear nothing has changed.

None of you are sure where your intimate afterparty came from, but you do know it was rooted entirely in the boys’ personalities. For Frankie, he finds it hard to not be attracted to you, to both your physique and your psyche. And for Jack, he finds it hard to not show his love for you. In every sense of the word, you’re the love of Jack’s life. You’re the person he’s promised himself to, the one he’ll take care of as long as he has a soul to. And if Frankie’s going to stick around, he’ll have to respect that. And he will, as long as it means he gets to keep his friendship with the two of you.

#oh Jesus Christ #this was amazing to write #wowowow #Daddy Whiskey #Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey smut #Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales smut #Frankie Morales x you #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Morales x female reader #Kinktober #Kinktober 2022 #Sintober #Sintober 2022

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garciaasfluffypen · 2 years

Text

you’re my angel, only angel

wc: 1.6k pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader warnings: eddie calls reader sweetheart/cute/doll, eddie is soft and loves y/n a whole lot, drunk confessions, mutual pining, admission of love, smoking & weed mentions,

BASED ON THIS POST

halloween in hawkins was something everyone loved. the crisp fall air, the parties, everything about it was amazing.

but you were excited for something else this year.

you had finally convinced eddie to do matching costumes with you, even though you wouldn’t tell him what you were going to be doing. there was a party that one of steve’s friends had invited him too, and by extension that meant the rest of your friend group (minus the young ones, because you were Not about to experience the wrath of hopper when he found out you let el near alcohol). robin had helped you come up with the idea- the devil and the angel, except you were going to be the devil and he was going to be the angel. you hadn’t told him yet, but you were going to show up to his trailer in your devil costume while holding out the bag with the angel costume inside. it was a fool proof plan, you thought yourself. especially since he would bend over backwards for you.

you parked your car in his driveway and practically skipped up to his front door, doing your signature knock to let him know you were here. you bounced on the balls of your feet as you heard him walking through the living room to the door. a smile found its way to your face as his eyes lit up with excitement and then confusion as he saw you standing there.

“hello my love!” you bought him in for a hug. “i got a surprise for you.”

“can i ask why y’re in a devil costume?”

“it’s for tonight, silly! our plans?”

“oh shit yeah, the plans. our plans.” he paused. “what plans?”

“we’re going to a party! and i have your costume.”

“we’re- okay, we’re goin’ to a party.”

you pushed past him and went further into the trailer, dropping your overnight bag on his couch and turning to face him. you held out the party store bag that held his costume in it, the smile on your face growing as he came closer. he looked inside of it and let out a sigh, staring up at you.

“absolutely not.”

“eddie please?” you pulled at his wrists. “i promised steve we would go to the party and i already got you your costume-”

“i told you not to spend money on me, doll.”

“but i wanted too! we’re gonna win the cutest costume contest. robin said she’d cook us her famous banana bread if she did.”

she definitely did not say that, but you were sure you’d convince her to do it for you.

“now that’s temptin’...” eddie trailed off. “but why d’you get to be the devil?”

“’cuz...” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “you’re my angel. and i-” i like you, you wanted to say. but you didn’t. “yeah. my angel.”

his features visibly softened as you looked at him, smiling slightly as he took your face in his hands. he placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose, reaching down and taking the bag from your hands.

“fine. but ‘m doing this because you’re so goddamn cute.”

you squealed with excitement as eddie took the bag, going back into his bedroom to change. this was going to be the best party ever.

- - - - -

the party was in full swing by the time nancy pulled up, letting the rest of you get out while she went to go find parking. you always admired nancy, especially when she would offer to be DD so you all could go have fun. you tugged eddie’s hand as you ran towards the door, trailing him along behind you. abba was playing in the background as your group went straight to the drink station, grabbing cups of punch and splitting ways. you took hold of his hand and pulled him into one of the corners of the dark room, wrapping your arms around him as you sipped the spiked punch in your hand. out of the corner of your eye you saw everyones costumes, silently thinking to yourself that everyone else didn’t have the big brain that you had. nobody had thought to do the opposite angel and devil, they were all boring and did everything the normal way.

nothing about you and eddie was normal. and that was the best thing about you two.

hours had passed and you were now drunk off your ass, hanging off of a tipsy eddie as you danced to gimme gimme, throwing yourself against him with steve and robin dancing right next to you. you held one of robin’s hands in your own as the other wrapped around eddie’s neck. he had a hand wrapped around your waist supportingly as you two danced, slyly watching you, robin and steve to make sure he didn’t have to drag you back outside. he was lucky he loved you, or else he wouldn’t even be here in the first place. but he loved watching you unravel and lose yourself, something you definitely had not done since... well, forever. you always felt like you had to keep up the image that your parents wanted you to be, and now that you had graduated you could finally let that go. and that was exactly what you were doing.

and that was exactly why eddie loved you so fucking much.

he had loved you for about a year now, ever since you had punched jason in the face after he had made fun of him. that was the moment he knew that he was absolutely head over heels in love with you and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. of course, he had figured you would have gone for someone better than him. so he had kept it to himself. but it was the moments like these were he could let his true feelings show, where he could watch you be yourself and not worry about the stress of your parents watching down on you.

“eddieee!” you whined. “’m gunn.. punch. ‘m thirsty.”

“okay sweetheart. be careful.”

you giggled as you placed a kiss on his cheek, grabbing robin’s hand and running off to get more punch. steve looked over to eddie and stepped up to him, leaning close to his ear.

“i see how you look at ‘er, eds. you gotta tell ‘er.”

“huh?”

“are you deaf, munson? fuckin’ tell her how you feel. i may be drunk but ‘m not dumb. i know when someone’s in love, and you definitely are.”

eddie’s face reddened. “am not.”

“are too. you don’ let anyone touch your weed yet you let her literally smoke all of it and you don’ say a thing. that’s love, my friend.”

“’m not in love.” eddie sipped his beer. “y/n is my best friend. i couln’t do that to us.”

“you’re not gonn’ fuck it up, eddie. i promise.”

moments later you made your way back to eddie, pouting and punchless.

“eds, nancy ‘s bein’ mean to me, she said i can’t ‘ave more drunk.”

eddie couldn’t help but chuckle. “i think she’s wise for that, cutie. you’re pretty drunk.”

“’an you’re jus’ preddy.” you booped eddie’s nose. “ver preddy. my angel.”

“i think we gotta get you back to the trailer, sweetheart.”

“mmmkay.”

with a single nod to nancy, the two of them wrapped everyone up and got the group to the car, making their way back to eddie’s place. he had graciously offered his trailer for the night, since wayne wasn’t going to be home for a few days. which meant that not only could you sleep over, but all of your friends could too. which is somehow how eddie found himself sitting on the floor while you, steve and robin were all very much staring at the television, watching the reruns of fraggle rock that played at 4 in the morning while horribly singing along to the theme song. he and nancy passed water out to everyone and hoped that the alcohol would wear off soon.

eddie had stepped outside for a moment to smoke when he heard the door open and you slipped out, seemingly a bit more sober than you were earlier that evening. you had to admit, you did go a bit harder than you normally did that night, but that was because you were 95% sure eddie had turned you down and you wanted to forget everything that had happened. but robin had pushed you to talk to him and figure it out, and what better time than the present?

“hey.”

“hey yourself.”

“can i?” you pointed to the couch as eddie scooted over, patting the spot next to him. “thanks.”

“what’s up?”

“i uh, 'm still kinda drunk so you can take this with a grain ‘f salt, but i uh... wanna tell you that i like you. that’s it.”

eddie couldn’t believe his ears. you liked him? you really liked him?

“lucky for you, sweetheart, i like you too.”

“you do?” your eyebrows skyrocketed. “i thought-”

“i’ve liked you for a while. i thought i made it obvious.”

“maybe ‘m just dumb-”

“you’re not dumb, y/n.” eddie turned your jaw so you could look at him. “you’re the opposite of dumb.”

you dug his head into his shoulder. “y’re not mad at me for not sayin’ something?”

“why would i be mad?”

“’cus i hid a secret from you. for a long time.” you sighed. “i din’ wanna tell you because i was scared.”

“scared?”

“cus if you didn’ like me it would be awkward.”

“what if i told you, that ‘s not awkward at all, and that in the mornin’ when you sober up we can talk about this some more?”

you tiredly nodded, a yawn escaping your mouth. “yeah, that sounds good.”

“let’s get you to bed, kay?”

“mmkay.”

and it was in that moment, that eddie knew he would love you forever, and you knew the same.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #an i (queue) of 187 #melly writes

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diamondwaters · 2 years

Text

❝ love is a choice ❞ chapter iii

summary: what was meant to be a simple, calm trip to an intergalactic museum ended up becoming a a trip through memories the doctor rather wanted to forget. only they weren't her memories. they were yours.

pairing: thirteenth doctor x reader (primary), eleventh doctor x reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: mention of nausea, fearful situations, stress responses (not a panic attack but similar), headaches

author's note: i know i said in the last chapter's notes that that chapter fist fought me, but this chapter did that and actually did win. this one is 7k and i stayed up until 6 am two days in a row for this one. i had fun writing most of it, but the next couple chapters are the ones that im the most excited for!

divider from annaliseart on pixabay

“What do you think of this one?”

You sat on Amy’s bed, listening to a Lady Gaga song pouring from the radio on her bedside table. You hung your left leg off the side of the bed while you flipped through a romance novel you’d stolen off her shelf. You looked up to see the costume she put on for one of her upcoming customers. You took in the plain, white, knee-length dress with poofy sleeves and pathetic little wings attached to the back. You likened her to those poor kids in the nativity plays in primary school, whose mothers made them participate. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time at the mere thought. You tried to cover it up at her indignant grimace.

“I like it! I like it a lot! I didn’t know they had an angel option now,” You smirked. “They got a devil one too, Ames? Ooh, maybe we could do it as a duo! Do you think they’ll pay me?”

She plucked her halo off her head and tossed it at your head jokingly. “It was my boss’s idea. Obviously. And no, there’s no devil one and no, you’re not gonna get paid.”

“Shame,” You shook your head. “It could’ve been a match made in heaven and hell!”

“Now I wish I hadn’t thrown that so I could throw it at you now. Really, that was awful.”

The grin on her face said otherwise, though she attempted to conceal it by retreating into her bathroom to change.

On your yearly visit to Leadworth for the summer, Amy had asked whether or not you wanted to go through her various costumes for her job as a kiss-o-gram. Naturally, you said yes. You had seen a nurse, a nun, and now an angel with an unfortunate absence of an accompanying devil.

You cherished these moments. A sophomore in university, entering your junior year in the fall, you didn’t often have the time to just exist without an assignment hanging over your head like a pendulum. So, your annual visit was something you looked forward to, and so were the moments with your friend that came with it.

You grabbed the halo from off the ground and put it on your head. It was a snug fit, but you knew Amy would find it a little bit amusing.

“What d’ya think?” You grinned impishly at her when she stepped out from her bathroom dressed in a police officer uniform.

“Funny,” Amy scrunched her nose at you. “Ironic, really. Listen, I have this appointment at noon, but afterward we can-”

In the middle of Amy’s sentence, an ear-scraping sound poured from the open windows, seeping through the house’s foundation until it reached its farthest corners. You slapped the radio off, then placed your hands over your ears. Despite the cushion of your palms, they did nothing to drown it out. Whatever or whoever it was coming from, they wanted to make their presence known.

“What in the hell is that?” You cringed.

“I-I don’t know!”

“Amelia!” A male voice shouted from where the noise had come from.

“You don’t?”

Amy pulled back her bedroom curtain with you glancing over her shoulder. Behind the overgrown foliage lay a tall, blue box. At the very top was a flashing light, and beneath that, above the thrown open doors, were the words “POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX.” They were familiar, incredibly familiar. You scrounged through your memories in an attempt to pluck one from the pile that pertained to just where you thought you had seen them.

“Amelia! I worked out what it was!”

You had forgotten that a strange man had been shouting below for a split second. You saw him begin to run towards the front door. You were sure it was locked, a piece of information that gave you respite. Then, that same front door you were grateful existed opened with its usual creak.

Sweat began to form on your brow. Every limb tensed. The creeping realization there was a strange man inside the house crawled through your skin, gripping onto your nerves tightly. Your body went into defense mode, immobilizing you on the spot while you tried to comprehend the dangerous change in situation. You were grateful that Amy began to move your body for you because you weren’t sure you had it in you to move.

“Go, go!” Amy whisper-shouted while pushing you behind her bed.

“What?” You squeaked.

“Just get down and don’t say anything!”

You saw a cricket bat in her hand and quickly caught onto her plan. You gave a stiff nod and crouched between the bed and her wall. You held your breath, keeping your ear directed at the door so you could keep listening to the action.

“Amelia! Are you alright?”

This was the part that confused you the most. Putting the fact that a man you had never seen before had broken into Amy’s home aside, he knew her. If she knew him was something you didn’t know. You figured not based on the fact that she seemed very eager to use that cricket bat. Still, something seemed off.

“Prisoner Vero is here! Prisoner Zero is here!” The man repeated. “Do you understand me? Prisoner Zero is-!”

Beyond the door, you could hear the faintest of thuds, followed by, “It’s okay, Y/N. You can come out.”

You waited a few beats after Amy’s reassurance to rise to your feet. You peeked around the edge of the doorway to see the stranger completely knocked out with Amy standing over him.

You were able to get a better look at his face. He was white, young-looking, and had long brown hair that wisped across his forehead. His build was strong but lanky, especially when paired with his height. He wore a blue men's dress shirt with a hideously-patterned tie that clashed with the vertical stripes of his pants. The shirt had burn marks and holes on the edges and shoulders like he’d gotten into some accident as dreadful as that tie.

You glanced at Amy. She was doing more than a simple examination of his features like you had done; her eyes were practically dissecting him! She systematically swept over his face several dozen times like she was trying to find a single component that could give her the answer she was looking for. She started at the hair, the eyes, the nose, the chin, and the ears, then repeated the routine until you couldn’t contain your question any longer.

“Are you sure you don’t know him?”

Amy’s face scrunched into a frown. She was hesitating in her answer. Still concentrating on the man, she decided on, “No, I don’t.”

“Then why are you looking at him like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you do know him.”

“I don’t!”

“Then stop looking at him like that!”

Amy didn’t bother to give that demand a response, throwing you two into a disoriented silence. She turned to the unconscious man, still studying him with intent. You were doing the same, but for different reasons.

While Amy was racking her brain for whatever she was obviously searching for, you were considering what the next course of action was. “So what do we do now? Should we call the police?”

Amy glanced down at her costume. A clever smirk graced her face, “Something like that. Here, help me get him over here.”

You gripped his shoulders so that he was sitting against the wall. You took one wrist in your grasp, and Amy took the other. Together, and it had to be together because the man was dead weight, you dragged the intruder toward the radiator under the hallway window. You rested him against the metal while Amy pulled the handcuffs from her police costume from her pocket. She clasped one cuff over his wrist and the other to one of the poles.

“Ooh, smart thinking!” You commended. “Okay, now what?”

“Now,” Amy made a soft noise as she punished herself to her feet. She wiped her hands on her skirt after locking the man in. “You get out of here.”

You blinked. Perhaps you hadn’t heard her correctly. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You can’t stay here.”

You liked to think you knew a lot about Amy and that she knew a lot about you. So, she really should’ve known that the very last thing you were going to do was leave her here with an unusual man! “I’m not just gonna leave you here with this-!”

“I’m older than you!” Amy interrupted. “You have to listen to what I say.”

“Are we really doing this now?” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes!”

The two of you had played this infuriating game for years. Anyone with an older sibling figure in their lives knew about the maddening expression, “I’m older than you, therefore you have to listen to me!” The game part came in whenever the one speaking, the oldest, wanted the one being spoken to, the youngest, to do something. The rule was that the younger participant had to adhere to their demands solely because the oldest had spent even a minute on the planet longer than them. Of course, Amy had used this strategy since you’d known each other.

When neither of you had even reached double digits, Amy hadn’t liked you very much. Her aunt and your mother were best friends, which was how the annual visit to Leadworth had begun. Your mother would drag you along during the summer, a reality that neither you nor Amy was particularly pleased about. Not because you didn’t enjoy the change of scenery, but because the two older women just assumed you and Amy would be the best of friends. You were decisively not.

You were a year and a half younger than her, and every second of time between your ages was crucial to her perception of you. A year and a half difference in age was a year and a half difference in everything, including whether you were cool enough to play with. Hence Amy used the “I’m older than you!” excuse to push you out of her room upon every visit.

You never held any of this against her. Children could be cruel sometimes, mostly unintentionally. Like that one time you took care of a neighbor’s five-year-old when you were a teenager who then asked why you had dots on your face. She had been talking about your acne. And it was a swift kick to the gut.

You both eventually grew out of this mind. That, or Amy had figured out you pathetically sat behind her door too many times and got tired of being eavesdropped on. She started inviting you to more activities, but at that point, her tendency for pretending waned in favor of trips to the mall.

Those times when you’d silently listen in on their make-believe sessions blinked in your memory. You’d have your ear pressed against the wood, taking in the described scenes. Most of them were about Amy’s fictitious friend, the Doctor. She always talked about him, making her friends play along by dressing up as him. She’d made cartoons of him, plays, and even prepared fish fingers and custard which the man had eaten during the night crashed in the yard.

You would overhear your mother and her aunt talk about how worried they were for Amy. Therapy hadn’t worked- Amy bit about four of them in total- and she was getting older. Her holding onto her imaginary friend raised concern, but you thought it was fantastic. You quite liked to think about what it might be like to travel through time like Amy said he did.

You were forced to create the scenarios in your head to play along from afar by using the drawings Amy would leave around. You had dreamed of the man with the raggedy, torn clothes. He’d show you the world’s wonders in that magic… blue box of his.

“Amy.”

Amy’s response came out weak. Her voice wasn’t really there, “Yeah?”

“That thing outside…” Your voice wavered. “And his clothes, they’re- You don’t think it’s-”

“I don’t know,” Her voice had an edge. It wasn’t a malicious one, just one that made it clear she had no idea what she was supposed to think. And that terrified her.

He wasn’t supposed to be real. He wasn’t real, and there was absolutely no way that the Doctor was sitting unconscious at your feet. It had to be some kind of sick joke, but you couldn’t think of anyone stupid enough to concoct such an elaboarte scheme. Dressing up, maybe, but creating an entire prop box that size or hiring an actor would be too much work for any one of Amy’s friends.

If this mental debacle was hard for you to accept, you could only imagine what Amy felt. The entire village knew about her fascination with her supposed imaginary friend. Some labeled it a natural part of a child’s development, but others were not as kindhearted. They told her she needed to grow up, and so she did. Long before she was ready, at that. For the Doctor to return after all these years would mean… Well, you weren’t quite sure.

“Listen,” You sighed. “I’ll go downstairs, but I’m not leaving you. I don’t care if he is-I don’t care who he is! I’m staying. Deal?”

Amy bit at her lip in thought. When the man began to churn slightly, she quickly whispered, “Fine, okay, just go.”

From the ground floor and safety of the base of the stairs, you only got bits and pieces of the conversation once the man had fully regained consciousness. It started with Amy using an assertive inflection with the man. There was something comforting about it. Amy was in control or at least made it seem like she was.

Then it got quiet. It wasn’t silent; you still heard their exchange of words, but the syllables meshed together until they were incoherent. As much as you loathed to be in the dark about the conversation, you were pacified to sit downstairs until needed. You trusted Amy. She was fearless, confident, and had a great swing apparently. Still, it was only natural to be as concerned as you felt.

A hushed hiss slithered through your teeth. You felt a stress headache forming between your eyes, so you pressed your fingertips to the offending area and massaged lightly. Chest rising and falling evenly, you willed your mind to focus on the rhythm to distract yourself from the dull throbbing.

A scream ripped through the air, also tearing through your pained state. The piercing sound sent you scrambling up the stairs without a second thought. “What’s wrong?”

Amy pressed herself into the corner beside the stranger, her wild, fearful eyes pinned to the wall adjacent to you. The man had still been handcuffed to the radiator, with the only notable difference between now and when you last saw him being his sleeping status.

The one thing you hadn’t seen while he was unconscious was his eyes. These eyes were so bold. They weren’t vibrant in color, and they weren’t even a hue you hadn’t seen before on dozens of other faces. But the way that his eyes were overflowing with a kind of intensity that was new to you. It wasn’t present with the purpose of showing it off; it was just there, like a ripple in a previously still body of water. The ripple seemed like it was waiting. For what, you didn't know.

The same eyes you'd just commented on narrowed at you accusingly, “An angel? Is an angel your backup?”

Confusion soaked your brain. You followed his line of sight where it rested on the top of your head. You pressed your fingers to the gold-painted plastic material encompassing your head. Right. The halo. You’d forgotten you still had it on.

“Of course not!” Amy scowled at him. “Come here!”

The words were directed at you, but she didn’t have to even say them to you. You already discerned that whatever had Amy so spooked had less to do with the intruder and more to do with whatever was close to where you stood. You didn’t want to be anywhere near the spot she was staring at with such terror, even if you couldn't tell what it was.

“Well, if that’s not back up, then who is this?”

“That has a name, I’ll have you now!” You countered bitterly. “If anything, we should be asking who you are! In fact, who are you?”

“Not enough time for proper introductions,” He shook his head. In one hand, he had a silver device with a blue end that emitted a staticky sound. He kept pointing it at his handcuff. Impassively, he told you, “You two, run. Just go, your backup’s coming. I’ll be fine.”

“There is no backup!” Amy exhaled angrily.

He twisted his neck to shoot Amy a glare of betrayal. “I heard you on the radio! You called for backup!”

“I was pretending, it's a pretend radio!”

“But you’re a policewoman!”

“I'm a kiss-o-gram!” Amy ripped the police hat off her head, her red waves spilling over her shoulders.

A door fell off its hinges, crashing forward. The door in question was to a room that you were positive did not exist. You’d been in the house for three months every year since you were six; you knew the place pretty damn well. And because you knew the house as well as you did, you also knew that a balding man dressed in a denim jumpsuit with a leashed Rottweiler by his side did not inhabit these walls.

You pressed your back flush against the wall. The skin of your hands went ice cold while your forehead became glossy with perspiration. Your breath caught in your throat, constricting the startled shriek that desperately wanted to escape your mouth. You only barely managed to croak out, “T-That wasn’t there before-”

“Sure wasn’t,” Amy nodded rigidly. “But it’s just…”

“No, it isn’t,” He said, having picked up whatever Amy had meant. “Look at the faces.”

A low growling reached your ears. You pointed your gaze to the dog, but its canine face remained utterly stagnant. However, when you slid it towards the man, you saw his teeth gnashing together while powerfully barking at you. Entirely literally barking as his eyes remained unchanged in their hostile quality.

“W-What? I’m sorry, what?” Amy sputtered.

“It’s all one creature. One creature disguised as two. Clever old multi-form,” The man explained. None of the words made any bit of sense to you, but neither did anything else about this situation. He raised his voice to speak to the man, “Bit of a rush job, though. Got the voice a bit muddled, did you? Mind you, where did you get the pattern from? You need a psychic link, a live feed. How did you fix that?”

The multi-form creature seemed displeased by this observation. It continued to snarl viciously. The longer this standoff occurred, the more annoyed it seemed to get. It opened its mouth, revealing a series of long, thin, and entirely too sharp fangs. You could see a red tongue caged behind the teeth that moved with the creature’s threatening rumble.

“I’m gonna be sick-” You pressed your palm to your mouth as a wave of queasiness washed over you.

“Don’t do that,” The man beside you chided your oncoming nausea. He patted Amy’s foot with his free hand. “Now, us! We’re safe. You know why? She sent for backup.”

“I didn’t send for backup!” Amy reiterated.

“Yes, I know, that was a clever lie to save our lives. Okay! Yeah, no backup!” To some degree, this declaration appeased the monster. It ceased its growling which the man took as a cue to continue on. “And that’s why we're safe. Alone, we aren’t a threat to you, but if we had backup, you’d have to kill us!”

“ATTENTION, PRISONER ZERO. THE HUMAN RESIDENCE IS SURROUNDED. ATTENTION, PRISONER ZERO…” A deep, booming voice devoid of any emotion ruptured the confrontation. It echoed throughout the home and against the greenery outside. Just the volume of whatever that thing was had you envisioning its potential gargantuan size.

Amy whispered, “What’s that?”

“That would be backup-”

“I thought you just said backup was what would get us killed!” You reminded him with a whimper.

“Plan’s changed-”

“You had a plan?”

“Okay!” The man bit down on his words. It was a clear request for you to stop talking. You thought that perhaps when everything was over, you could request something of him as well. Maybe a swift kick to the shins. “One more time! We do have backup and that’s definitely why we are safe!”

“PRISONER ZERO WILL VACATE THE HUMAN RESIDENCE OR THE HUMAN RESIDENCE WILL BE INCINERATED.”

"I'm going to pass out."

“Don't do that either. We're safe apart from, you know, incineration.”

The creature turned its entire body with a foul-sounding squelch as if its whole body was cracking each bone with every step. You had no idea how you could hear it over that voice repeating that portending message over and over. It left the three of you in the hallway to confront whatever was threatening it.

A thudding on the carpet drew your attention which you tried to keep primarily on the potentially deadly monster currently in your guest room. The man was banging his silver and blue device against the floor, easing it to start working with additional words. Eventually, the electric sound it produced remained consistent for five seconds instead of the short bursts from seconds earlier. He kept the glowing blue end directed at the cuff.

The click of the handcuff was your starter pistol. The second you heard it, you gripped Amy’s hand and sprinted towards the front door. You didn’t even need to listen to the man’s signal to run. You just did.

In an Introduction to Psychology class you took one semester, you had to read about stress responses. There were three phases to what was known as General Adaptation Syndrome. The first is the alarm phase which consists of the immediate reaction known as fight or flight. Then, if the stress persists, you move on to phase 2. In the resistance phase, your body is still on high alert, which causes issues categorized by the third phase: exhaustion. Your mind and body have taken a toll from the prolonged exposure, and it is likely interference is required.

Most of the situations studied to reach this conclusion happened across months, even years. Yet all it took was five minutes for your body to race through all three phases.

When you had stopped your pursuit to get as far away as possible, it was not by your own choice. Amy had pulled you to her side to slow your momentum. The second your legs stopped moving, you felt each individual physiological reaction pumping you full of cortisol and epinephrine. There were so many hormones filtering through your system that you were numb to the stimuli around you.

You had heard Amy and the man arguing but couldn’t focus well enough on the words. The heartbeat thumping in your ears was already too much for your frantic brain to keep up with.

“Hey-” Someone grabbed your cheeks, not gently but not harshly either. Firmly. “With us?”

The world had been cloudy like you were there but not weighted enough to feel it. You were so caught up in escape you hadn't bothered to take much note of your surroundings. So, finding yourself on the outskirts of the center of the village was a surprise. When you thought about the pulsing ache in your muscles, it shouldn’t have been too big of a shock you’d run such a distance.

The brazen eyes you’d observed what felt like a lifetime ago took up the majority of your field of vision. As you had studied them previously, they were now studying you. You felt so small beneath them. The eyes were not unkind, not in the slightest, yet you were successfully fighting the inclination to shrink away from their sheer fervor. Whether you were coming down from an adrenaline high or because the ripple was impatiently waiting to grow under them, your entire being was working overtime to adapt to this. To him.

“So, you- you are the Doctor?” You stammered, not quite sure how you garnered that from his eyes alone. “You’re him?”

“Sure am!” The man- the Doctor- confirmed with a prideful grin. “Never got your name, though, now did I?”

Probably for good reason. “It’s Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N!” The Doctor patted your burning cheeks. At the sensation, you realized he had his hands on your face and instinctively swatted at him. This didn’t seem to faze him.“I hope you enjoy running!”

“I don’t!”

Unfortunately, the day hadn’t gotten any less insane from there, nor did you stop running. After fleeing for your life from an alien convict who had taken up residence in a room that didn’t exist, you and everyone else on the planet found yourselves in a tricky situation: the demand for Prisoner Zero to vacate hadn’t been regarding Amy’s house, but the entire earth. If the bastard didn’t turn himself in within 20 minutes, Prisoner Zero’s guard would incinerate the whole planet.

This would have sent you into an existential panic if you even had a single second to breathe, let alone think. The Doctor hadn’t been pulling your leg about the running. Your calves were bound to be taut and sore when you got another moment to rest. You ran into the town square then ran to Jeff Angelo’s house where Amy felt the embarrassment of a lifetime when his Gran brought up her old cartoons of the Doctor. Your last excursion was a frenzied and not at all legal drive to the hospital with Amy and her somewhat boyfriend Rory.

Prisoner Zero had taken on eight different forms, all comatose patients at the hospital where Rory worked. The Doctor had sent you there to clear everyone out of the hospital. It wasn’t a challenging task until it became worse than challenging. See, Prisoner Zero had been lying in wait. He took on the form of a mother with two daughters, but just as he had done with the man and his dog, he got the mouths wrong. The sight of those tiny fangs alone sent your instincts into overdrive.

The Doctor managed to trap Prisoner Zero by convincing the world’s leaders to broadcast a single number across the entire planet: 0.

The prison guards, the Atraxi they were called, took the hint. They traced the signal of origin to the tiny Leadworth Hospital and had been there in under a minute. After a quick attempt at self-preservation by inhabiting Amy’s mind, the Doctor influenced her to dream about Prisoner Zero’s true form. He was restrained and promptly teleported off your planet.

It was over. The Atraxi were gone, and the prisoner was gone. The sun returned to normal, and the threat of extinction was snuffed out… which was why you couldn’t wrap your head around why the Doctor phoned the dangerous aliens back to Earth.

You sat there for a good few seconds while the Doctor strode to the next room without looking back to see if the three of you were keeping up. It seemed to be a recurring theme with this guy; he was constantly moving while not considering whether or not the people he was with were ready to roll.

You were stuck sitting on the hospital floor. Your body refused to move while you struggled to comprehend the Doctor’s reasoning. If the breaking and entering, no matter how justified it was, wasn’t what made you want to strangle the man, placing your planet back in potential danger did just the trick.

Mind catching up with your body, you pulled yourself together. You followed the direction in which you’d last seen the Doctor and your friends go.

“Okay, I- What the shit ?” You screeched.

The very first thing you saw was ass and nothing else, like it was a beacon and your eyes were forcibly drawn towards it. Connecting said ass to the mop of dark brown hair atop a very irritating man, you huffed angrily.

Your hands were raised to your face from the sudden surprise. So with the pure instinct to grab the thing closest to you, you reached to the top of your head, where the halo was still miraculously settled. It was flying from your hand and through the air before you even registered that you had thrown it. It landed right between the Doctor’s shoulder blades.

“Ow!” The Doctor fully turned his body, showing just as much of his frontal body as you had seen of his back. You irritably jeered at that and trained your sight on the ceiling while he bemoaned, “What was that for?”

“What was that for ?” You repeated in disbelief. “Put some clothes on!”

“Well, what do you think I’m trying to do?”

“Oh, piss off!” You snapped, turning away from him.

This man was mad. You already made that dedication several times, but it seemed he was making it a goal to keep adding points to that conclusion. When he wasn’t getting ass naked in the presence of three strangers, he was also commandeering fire trucks to ram into a hospital window! And when he wasn’t doing that, he was requesting an audience with a hostile alien race! If the aliens weren’t going to kill you, he would.

You rubbed at your brows, still feeling the swell of the slight headache you had felt earlier.

Something was already waiting for you when you got to the rooftop. You hadn’t seen what the Atraxi looked like inside the hospital since you were a tad distracted. The Atraxi guard was as intimidating as the voice from the televisions and what you heard outside the house. It was an eyeball with crystalline spikes surrounding it. Just looking at them had you considering the decision to back away. You weren’t anywhere close to it, but the evident sharpness of them had you ready to put your evolutionary survival tactics to use.

“So this was a good idea, was it? They were leaving!" Amy reminded him.

“Leaving is good. Never coming back is better!” The Doctor informed you. He strolled towards the Atraxi with casual indifference. “Come on then! The Doctor will see you now!”

The eye exited its crystal encasement. It landed directly in front of the Doctor. The Atraxi scanned the Doctor’s face with a blue light brushed over his face. “You are not of this world.”

Aliens were not something you were ignorant to anymore. There was one right in front of you, and there was one you were running from to escape certain death. You should’ve even figured out by now that the Doctor was just as alien as the Atraxi and Prisoner Zero. Hearing it be confirmed still took you slightly by surprise. He seemed too human. Appearance-wise, at least. Every other aspect about him was still up for debate.

“No, but I put a lot of work into it,” The Doctor replied halfheartedly. He was too busy flipping through the selection of ties he’d wrung out of the lost and found. He hummed inattentively. “I don’t know… What do you think?”

“Is this world important?” The Atraxi prison guard asked stoically while ignoring the Doctor’s request for an opinion.

“Important?” The Doctor scoffed. He hurled one of the many ties he’d had around his neck over his shoulder for you to catch. Ass. “What’s that mean, ‘important?’ Six billion people live here. Is that important? But here’s a better question: is this world a threat to the Atraxi?” Silence. “Well, come on! You’re monitoring the whole planet! Is this world a threat?”

A blue, circular hologram emitted from the Atraxi’s pupil. The Earth rotated in the image of azure-colored static. A series of images flashed in quick succession. Explosions, the march of soldiers, some of the world's greatest achievements, and some of the world’s worst moments.

“No.” They decided.

“Are the people of this world guilty of any crime by the laws of the Atraxi?”

More flickered images. Crowds of smiling people, cultural dancing, windmills, and elaborate monuments across the globe.

“No.”

“Okay! One more, just one. Is this world protected?”

These were ones that you hadn’t been able to identify. Men made of metal marched in perfect formation. Cylindrical creatures with circles running up and down the bottom half of their bodies. A turtle? Scaled beings with a series of tentacles protruding from the area where the mouth usually was.

“You’re not the first lot to have come here! Oh, there have been so many! And what you’ve got to ask is ‘what happened to them?’”

A series of faces were presented in front of you. You recognized none of them. None of their features stood out to you, but there was one thing they all had in common. It was the glint in their eyes. They all had it lurking behind their stares. Chaos, ambition, protectiveness, boldness. You saw it in his eyes, too.

“Hello. I’m the Doctor.”

You grinned at the man before you. It was pretty badass, you had to admit. When someone saves the world and, albeit with an ego the size of the European continent, calls the aliens back for a proper scolding, it is hard not to revere them in some light. A tiny light, though. Maybe a candle’s flame and nothing more.

Wait. Why were you smiling?

Your head began to feel a bit light. You swallowed back a discomforted groan, keeping your lips tightly sealed. You ran your palms across your upper arms, hoping that maybe it would give you something to focus on rather than the feeling of your head drifting up into the stratosphere. When that didn’t work, you put the heels of your hands, which felt like they’d been soaking in ice water, over your eyes to block out daylight.

When your hands fell away, you felt decidedly better. You were warm, a stark contrast to the bitter cold you swore you had experienced a mere moment ago. Even the clothes against your skin were softer, plusher. You ran your fingers across the fabric to discover the wooly feel of your favorite pajamas.

Your eyes were heavy, but that couldn’t have been right. You were just pumped with adrenaline… from what again? You couldn’t quite seem to remember. The closest thing you had that day to a near-death experience was batting off some of Amy’s younger family members from attempting to snag a couple of the wedding favors you had spent the day putting together.

The wedding. Right. It was tomorrow, and you had a lot to do as the bride’s honor attendant. Too much to do, really. So you needed your sleep.

You glanced at the electric clock on your nightstand. It was the early hours of the morning, but that couldn’t be correct either. It was just midday, wasn't it? Perhaps that’s what it felt like since you hadn’t had a good rest in what felt like… how long ago was it since Rory proposed? A few months? Maybe a bit more? Amy was lucky to have a best friend like you to help with these preparations. Not that you minded; you’d do anything for her, especially on a special day.

Maybe.

You knew Amy was beyond nervous. With the wide eyes and distant gaze she had whenever you were doing wedding preparation, you thought she would be a flight risk. You tried to do your best to talk to her about it, but Amy was under the impression that she was doing well in keeping her fears hidden. Perhaps to the people around her, she was. She was one of your best friends, though, and there wasn’t much she could or would keep from you.

The deadline to tell someone about what she was thinking was getting closer. You feared that she might do something drastic in her attempt to mask her worries.

As you pondered how to best help Amy with her nerves, another query formed in her hazy mind: what woke you up?

There had been a sound, but you must’ve woken up just as it had ceased. You sat up in your bed and pulled a strand of your hair behind your ear so that you could silently listen for it.

You didn’t hear what had woken you up, but you did hear, “That was two years ago!”

You forced the fatigue from your muscles and stumbled to your feet, toeing your slippers on. Padding towards the window, you drew the curtain back to look down to the front lawn where you heard the shout.

Through the pane, dirtied by fingerprints and your breath across the glass, you could make out the shape of the blue box, the TARDIS it was called, that had been seared into your brain . It was there, parked in the yard like some average car, along with the mad man who disappeared into it two years ago.

As was Amy. Amy, who seemed to be stepping into the TARDIS with the Doctor following suit.

“Amy!” You called out. “Wait! Amy, no, wait! Shit-!”

You ran to your bedroom door. You hurriedly pulled your robe off its hook to protect your skin from the temperature outside.

The dash through the hallway was messy, to say the least.

Your robe’s tie got caught in the door when you closed it. You cursed your muscle memory as you tugged at the soft fabric. You also cursed yourself for your momentary stupidity for forgetting that this obstacle could easily be overcome by opening the door again.

“You’ve gotta be- Dammit!” You grunted.

Fueled by both the desire to keep Amy from running away like you surmised she would and to slap this Doctor son of a bitch, your coordination wasn’t at its best. At one point, your slipper got caught on the rug. You went to fix it, but the recognizable sound of the TARDIS lurching away rang against your ears, leading you to give up and leave it there.

One slipper down, you bound down the stairs. You skid on the wood with one foot without traction to grip the smooth varnish. You luckily gripped the railing before you crashed, but it took away a few precious seconds to get to the TARDIS. Maybe a few seconds of your life too, with the fright it gave you.

By the time you managed to swing the front door so hard it loudly crashed against the wall, the TARDIS had started to recreate its wheezing engine noises. The box's outline began to flicker, getting fainter and fainter by the second.

The noise suffocated your panicked pleas to stop, but you didn’t stop issuing them. You begged your legs to move even a millisecond faster, but it felt like your heartbeat was sapping any reserved energy you had to keep up the erratic rhythm. The grass was wet with the formation of the morning dew after the night’s cold, and your singular bare foot slid against the strands as your arm reached out towards the door handle. Your fingertips barely grazed the blue-painted wood; then, you stumbled from the lack of a surface to fall onto.

You should’ve been doing something. You were acutely aware of that. You should have been screaming at the empty space with curses and threats aimed at the Doctor echoing back, mocking you for your inability to make it in time. You weren’t, though. Staring at the dirt, you looked at the lines the TARDIS had left there. If you looked long enough with your now glassy eyes, thought hard enough, you could bring it back through the force of your abating resolve.

“Please…” You muttered into the silent twilight. “Come back, Doctor… Please.”

You hadn’t said that back then.

“Here you are, ma’am,” The fire-scaled woman returned with a large yellow-folder with stacks of papers held together by rubber bands.

“Right. Thanks.” The Doctor said absentmindedly. Were she presentminded, she wouldn’t have even given those women the politeness of a thank you. They didn’t deserve it.

She didn’t know you were out there that night; she hadn’t heard you. If she had, she would’ve held out her hand for you. She didn’t know if you would take it since you rather enjoyed shouting her ear off at the beginning of your relationship. But, perhaps, if you had eventually taken it, maybe after screaming at her until your voice ran raw, you would have had more time together.

It was a nice thought.

But for now, her thoughts needed to be on the contents of this folder. It was a lot smaller than she had expected. Just from a simple once-over through the many papers, she figured out fairly quickly that there were missing pieces of information. They were minute, but they were noticeable to anyone looking for it. She’d have to reflect on that information later to keep her focus on the specified times in your records.

Using her thumb to flip through the pages once more, the fluttering of the paper caused something to fall to the ground. There was a plastic bag with a folded sheet of paper inside at her feet. This intrigued the Doctor, for all the other documents were crisp and uncrumpled. This was the only one with any creases and the only thing that was sealed away. One side was rigid compared to its sister sides, as if it was torn.

She wordlessly held the folder to whomever was to her left and expected them to take it. She assumed it was Graham. Whoever it was, took it from her grasp with an irate snatch.

“You’re very welcome, Doctor,” Graham! Ah, she was right! “See that that’s always been a thing you do, huh?”

She gave a distracted hum in reply. Her fingers gently undid the seal on the bag before slipping them in and pulling out the paper. As she unfolded it, the Doctor understood what she was about to see. She knew not its words nor the information it conveyed. What she did know was its contents and where it was from-

“‘I thought that she was someone else.'”

-because she was the one who had ripped it out.

taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added through my ask box!!): @gurkiloni @nightmonkeyparker

author's note: setting up for the part im just itching to write :) also a child really did ask me once why i had red dots on my face. i thought they were about my freckles at first, then i realized.

#thirteenth doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor #13th doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor imagine #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfic #doctor who

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dragonbinx · 1 year

Text

Domestic Halloween

Part of my Halloween series from last fall and the final part (so far) of my Domestic Floofs series. Posted on Ao3 here.

Series: Legacies

Ship: BenJed

Characters: Jed Tien, Ben

“Come on, come on, the sun’s going down. Trick-or-treaters will be here any minute!”

Ben made his way down the stairs, adjusting the sleeves of his suit. “Wouldn’t want to miss that,” he muttered under his breath, although though if the look Jed gave him was any indication, it wasn’t as quiet as he’d hoped. He cleared his throat. “I don’t understand what the point of wearing this is. Aren’t costumes supposed to be more elaborate? Or something I don’t regularly wear to work?”

“True, but I didn’t think I should shove you in the deep end with dressing up.” Jed walked over to Ben and showed him a headband with little horns on it. “You’re going to be a demon. Or the devil, whichever. That’s why I told you to wear a black shirt and a red tie.” He put the headband on Ben and grinned. “I know you hate this holiday so I’m trying not to make this too hard on you.”

“I don’t hate Halloween,” Ben insisted. “I think that it’s a strange holiday that is even stranger when you know the truth about the supernatural. Why would you dress up as a fake vampire when you know how inaccurate the human perception of one is?”

“To annoy Kaleb,” Jed replied smugly. That explained all of the pictures he’d insisted Ben take of his costume for the college’s Trunk-or-Treat over the weekend.

“So what are you supposed to be now?”

“An angel.” Jed smoothed out his white jacket. “I’ve even got little wings,” he said proudly, pointing to a pin on his lapel. “It’s a couples costume.”

Ben had discovered over the years that Jed was surprisingly enamored with things that Finch dismissively labeled as “cheesy couple stuff.” He couldn’t complain, as he was in favor of anything that involved Jed being as excited and happy about their relationship as Ben was. It didn’t stop him from noticing something. “If our costumes are supposed to match, why do you not have a headband?”

“I tried, but haloes in adult sizes are harder to find last minute,” Jed defended. “But look at what I got Artemis and Kyon,” he said, pointing towards the living room.

Kyon was wearing a pair of red wings and looked perfectly content, having curled up on the sofa and laid her head on one of them like a pillow. Artemis had white wings and was the picture of feline defeat. Ben was certain that if anyone besides Jed had put them on her, she’d have shredded them by now.

“Huh,” Ben said for lack of something better or more enthusiastic. Kyon at least looked cute.

He looked Jed up and down. “I like yours,” he murmured huskily, moving into Jed’s space. He liked Jed in almost anything, but he particularly liked Jed in a suit, and this white one showed off his arms.

Jed put up a hand and frowned at him. “No, we’re not doing that now. Kids could be here any minute.”

“You told me that with how isolated we are, we might not get many … sorry, what was the word?”

“Trick-or-treaters. And yeah, I know, but that doesn’t mean we won’t get any.”

Ben took in Jed’s hopeful face and felt a little guilty. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”

Jed shrugged. “I don’t know about important, but it’s nostalgic, I guess? I only got to go trick-or-treating one time when my dad was out of town but I was awesome at it. I got so much candy, I filled up a full pillowcase.”

“Very impressive,” Ben replied with a grin.

“Okay, I know you’re joking, but yeah, it was. I was king of the third grade for like a week.”

“The highest of honors. No, wait,” he laughed as Jed scowled and pulled him closer by his hips. “I’m sure you were a great king. And quite adorable.”

“I really was,” Jed replied, leaning in to kiss Ben, who chuckled against his lips before returning the kiss eagerly. He was settling into the rhythm of it when their doorbell rang and Jed was out of his arms and opening the door with a plastic cauldron full of candy in his hands in a matter of seconds.

“Trick-or-treat!” chorused the two children on their front porch. One was wrapped up in bandages in what he assumed was an approximation of a mummy, from what he’d observed in popular culture. What the other child, with the fuzzy ears and gloves, whiskers on her face and what looked like a tail on her upper back, was supposed to be eluded him.

Not Jed. “Oh, cool, a werewolf! I love werewolves!” He winked at Ben, who bit back a grin, held out the cauldron to the little wolf. “Here take whatever you want.”

The little wolf looked at his face, then the pronounced outline of his bicep from holding the cauldron, then back up to his face and everything from the top of their forehead through their neck turned an impressive shade of scarlet. They tried mumbling something, but Ben couldn’t tell what.

Jed smiled at them gently. “Are you okay? Don’t you want some candy?”

The blush got even deeper and the mumbling stopped entirely. The little mummy, either trying to help their friend or eager to get their candy, grabbed a Twix out of the cauldron and dropped it in their friend’s bag and stuck a Snickers in their own and towed their friend away by the tail, yelling “Thank you, Happy Halloween,” as they went back to their parent’s waiting car.

Jed frowned. “Guess they were shy.”

“That’s one way to put it, yes.” Ben kissed his oblivious husband on the cheek, holding back his laughter.

They got somewhere between twenty and thirty groups of trick-or-treaters; apparently a cabin more or less in the woods was an attractive option on Halloween. He wasn’t any more in love with Halloween by the time the last revelers left, but he did see some of the appeal. The children were adorable and Kyon was thrilled with all her new friends, and Jed beamed all night, reliving one of his few fond childhood memories. He could come around on Halloween, if it made his love this happy.

Jed closed the door on a pair of what he called “ghostbusters” a little before midnight and sighed. “I think that’s probably the last of them,” he told Ben. “Don’t get too excited.”

“It was not as bad as I thought,” Ben allowed, putting down the cauldron. “But I’m not sorry it’s over.”

“Fair. I’m gonna go take Kyon’s wings off of her. Artemis already ditched hers,” he said, pointing at a white wing tip sticking out from under the couch. “I think she’s outside, can you go get her?” He leaned closer to Ben and smiled wickedly. "And then come upstairs and you can help me out of my costume.”

“You planned this. To make me like Halloween more.”

“I’m not saying that I did, but I do know how much you like taking me out of a suit.” Jed pressed a soft kiss to Ben’s lips and laughed when Ben tried to follow him as he pulled away. “Go on, get our cat. I’ll be upstairs.”

Ben watched him leave, Kyon at his heels, and thought about how even he could still underestimate Jed from time to time. Then he opened the door and stuck his head out.

“Artemis! Come in, it’s time to go sleep. Artemis, come …” Ben was struck dumb as he finally saw his cat.

Artemis was sitting at the end of their driveway. Her head was tipped up and her body was still. The moon lit her from behind, casting a ghoulish bluish white light over her, and against it she looked almost black. She looked bigger somehow, like she might come up to his waist if she were next to him, and when she opened her eyes, they glowed a bright green. It had been clear all night, but somehow there was fog eddying around her paws, and when she looked at Ben, he felt something like magic crackle through the air.

Then it was over. His cat trotted back to him, her coat the usual color, her eyes no more exciting than usual, and she was her normal height by the time she reached the door.

He eyed her suspiciously. “You aren’t actually supernatural, are you?”

“Mrrrt,” said Artemis unhelpfully, butted her head against his leg, and went inside.

Ben shook himself and closed the door. The holiday had gotten to him and made him see things, that was all. “I don’t understand Halloween,” he muttered to himself, pulling off his devil horns and heading up to the stairs to Jed, happy to not think about this ridiculous holiday for another year.

#Legacies #CW Legacies #Legacies CW #BenJed #JedBen #Jed x Ben #Ben x Jed #Jed Tien #Ben (Legacies)#Jedetheus #werewolf demigod soulmates #dragonbinx fics

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sinfulspencer · 2 years

Text

Devil eyes.

Prompt: Spencer, dressed up as a devil, is drawn to the angel dancing around him at the club.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader, degradation, dirty talking, hair pulling, public fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, unprotected sex Let me know if I have missed anything. x

Words: 10.1k

A.N.: This is pure filth and I don’t regret writing it, ‘cause it’s been one of my favourite pieces to create. Can we please imagine Spencer Reid dressed up as a devil or a demon? That’s so hot, I wish we got to see him like this.

PLEASE, READ THE RANT AT THE END OF THE WORK. THANK YOU!

Check out my masterlist here. JOIN MY TAGLIST! Share your thoughts here. If you want to send me requests for a fic, make sure to read my guidelines.

You’ve got the devil in your eyes You went and took me by surprise Say what you wanna say, I won’t go back

When your best friend invited you to a party in the middle of nowhere with alcohol flowing and loud music booming through the speakers, you weren’t expecting to catch the eyes of a man who barely moved the whole night.

You were confused as to why he didn’t stand up to dance.

He kept playing with his glass with the tip of his fingers, staring at you with the hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen in someone. You weren’t sure he was looking at you, at first, because he didn’t even try to make a move to catch your attention.

He did anyway, because you’ve never seen such a handsome man before.

Dressed up in all black, with a fake scar running across his neck and fake blood splattered all over his arms, he looked sinful and delicious.

Your best friend didn’t notice him at first. She thought you were busy trying to flirt with the bartender in order to get more free drinks. When she settled her eyes on the man who was gawking at you and touching the edge of his glass with his fingers, she whispered in your ear to get him.

You thought she was joking because there was no way in Hell – pun intended for the stranger’s outfit – you’d leave her alone in the middle of a party, but she reassured you she was going to be fine and that she was going to find someone to go home with.

It wasn’t unusual for her to find somebody at a party, so you didn’t doubt her abilities to snatch people’s attention all around her. With her beauty and her grace, it wasn’t difficult to attract someone so you took her advice.

And put her words to the test.

You started to get closer to the man, enjoying the music booming through the speakers and dancing shamefully with whoever walked past you or behind you. You allowed the music to take control of your body, the excitement running through your blood to use you whoever it wanted.

Your outfit was in contrast to the way you were behaving, shaking your hips and grinding against the person behind you. The white fluffy wings on your back didn’t match the sensual energy you radiated and the stranger noticed it first.

If at first you acted like the angelic figure you were dressing up as, your movements betrayed it.

That cute little smile morphed into a wicked grin.

Your graceful movements on your white heels turned more sensual, more sinful.

As if you were trying to catch somebody’s attention. More specifically, his.

He couldn’t stop looking at you and admiring how you started to act like a whole different person when your friend left. Not that he can complain about it, he obviously loves this shift in your behaviour. You let go of your angelic attitude and allowed sinful thoughts to run freely through your body, staining your behaviour and poisoning the rest of your night.

In a good way, of course.

Now you’re making your way out of the crowd, headed to the bar of the club. Dancing didn’t have the effect you were thinking it would have on the man still sitting at his table, but that’s not going to stop you from taking another step.

No matter what it takes, you’re going to go home with him tonight.

The music is still blaring in the background as you lean over, whispering to the bartender the drink you’re planning on enjoying. He takes a good look at you, allowing his eyes to wonder at your cleavage before a smirk appears on his lips, and he pulls away.

He doesn’t say anything, getting back to work to make the drink you’ve asked for.

You lean back to sit on your chair and you turn your head to the side, noticing the stranger still sitting on his chair. He’s obviously looking at you, so you cross your legs, hoping your gesture might push him out of his comfort zone and force him to take the matter into his own hands.

The long white skirt of your dress rises just enough to show him what you’re wearing underneath: a white garter-belt you hope he’s going to take off with his tongue, with those big strong hands gripping your thighs and leaving marks in their way.

It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what attracts you to him.

It’s not just his beauty, it’s more than that.

His burning gaze.

His plump lips.

His broad shoulders.

His attitude.

He seems not to care about anything or anyone else inside this club but you and the music.

There’s another young man sitting with him at the table and he’s on his phone. You caught him looking at you once or twice throughout the night, but he didn’t say anything else – the only difference with the other man is that sometimes he stood up and danced with girls around him.

Other than that, they’re both extremely gorgeous.

However your eyes didn’t leave the stranger’s for one moment.

Spencer couldn’t have taken his eyes off you even if he tried. The hypnotic pace you were moving your hips to the music was enough to mesmerize him, shake him from the inside and steal his heart in the blink of an eye.

He wondered how you would’ve felt against him, swinging your hips and corrupting you.

An angel.

You were dressed up as an angel, you were behaving like an angel until you saw him.

Spencer knew you were looking at him in the same way he was doing to you, he could read your body language like a book – his favourite one. He could tell you were trying your best to capture and keep his attention the whole night, hoping he would’ve come up to you on the dance floor and danced with you, but he didn’t.

Luke told Spencer that you were going to get away quickly if he hadn’t made a move on you.

Now he has a chance to do so before you get away from him because you’re alone at the bar, sipping on your drink with those beautiful lips wrapped around the metallic straw.

Your thigh is completely exposed, the lights of the club making it look like the perfect area to mark with nibbles and licks.

Spencer wonders what you taste like.

Sin.

Hell.

Sex.

Everything he has ever wanted, combined all together.

Spencer leaves Luke’s table, carrying his empty glass of water. Not saying anything to his colleague, Spencer puts his phone in his pocket and heads over to the bar where you are.

He moves a chair beside yours and sits on it. His eyes are on your face the whole time, just like yours, and they don’t leave it until you turn your whole body to him with that straw still between your lips. That dark stare sends shivers down your spine; you’re not even sure you’re breathing right.

You should stop looking at him so shamelessly but you can’t.

Spencer doesn’t say anything, leaving his empty glass on the wooden surface. You keep your mouth shut as well, simply basking in his beauty as the lights of the club make him look like the most exquisite piece of art inside of a museum.

You wonder what he’s thinking about and why he’s staying silent, but you don’t mind. You’d rather have a man looking at you like this than a man opening his mouth and boring you to the point you need to come up with an excuse to leave.

However, you’re pretty sure this wouldn’t happen with the stranger in front of you.

You place your glass down, licking your bottom lip as a drop of water runs from your lips down to your chest.

Spencer follows the trace of water running across your throat and holds back the desire of leaning forward and licking that same spot. When the drop of water melts into your white dress, he brings his eyes back to your face and finds your lips twitched into a wicked smile.

How can you be so angelic when you’re clearly staring at him as if you’re reading to drag him into the pits of Hell? And by the pits of Hell, you mean the back of his car or one of the bathroom stalls inside that club?

Spencer is enchanted by this intense conflict between your outfit and your behaviour, which is why he’s right there in front of you now. He wants you and he’s determined to have you, to drag you outside and have his way with you until your legs are shaking and you can barely keep your eyes open.

He can’t believe you’re smiling, as if you’re thinking it’s funny to see him struggle to keep his desire deeply tucked in. If he releases it right now, he might scare you off - he doesn’t know that’s exactly what you want, what you crave for him to do.

“Y/N.”

Spencer blinks, the sound of your voice barely audible through the music.

“It’s my name.”

Spencer clenches his jaw when you lean forward, your cleavage now more exposed. It’s difficult to stay focused when a beautiful woman like you, wearing such an angelic and ethereal white dress, is getting close to him, ready to corrupt his already dark soul.

“Nice to meet you.” - Spencer manages to tell you, his voice making your thighs squeeze against each other - “I’m Spencer.”

You lean back, placing your right hand over the table. “Spencer. I like the sound of that.”

His eyes meet yours once more.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Straight to the point.

Spencer doesn’t blame you, he has been staring at you since you stepped inside this club. There’s no reason to wait, you clearly want him and he wants you even more.

“I’m not sure a little angel should hang out with a devil.”

His words are calculated to send shivers down your spine, to burn your body to the point of no return. You don’t care if you get damned right now, if he drags you to Hell and burns you with flames.

You’re willing to do anything with him, if it means having him.

“A taste of Hell never hurts anybody.”

Actually… it has, but there’s no need to digress about this right now.

Spencer leaves the tip for the bartender on the table, looking straight into your eyes. You’re hoping with your whole body he accepts your offer, you're silently begging him to do so.

When he does, you’re not surprised.

You’ve played this staring game for so long.

“Lead the way, little angel.”

Desire flashes behind your eyes as soon as he opens his mouth and in a matter of seconds, you’re practically running out of the club with Spencer right behind you.

The flashing red lights kiss your body as you make your way out of the club, the music vanishing into the background as the fresh air of the night hits you right in the face.

You turn around to look at Spencer and as soon as you do, he flashes you a smile.

The most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen.

A sinful smile that will cause nothing, but trouble for you that night.

You don’t care, you can handle anything he’s willing to give you and more.

Leading Spencer in the dark alley right behind the club, you feel your nerves slowly creeping up behind you. It’s the first time in so long you’re doing this with a stranger but you don’t care, because it feels so fucking good.

You want him, he wants you.

What’s wrong with that?

Once you’ve reached the spot you wanted to hide in, you turn your body around and you wait for Spencer to get a little close.

“That was pretty pathetic, you know?”

You hum, raising your brows. “What? My attempt at wooing you?”

Spencer nods his head, stepping closer to you. “A little angel trying to get the attention of the scary devil by dancing with those useless guys.”

His words are going straight between your legs.

“You noticed it, then.”

“How could I not? You were looking at me the whole time, begging me to do something, to show you that I’m better than all of them.”

Spencer’s hand runs across your exposed thigh, his fingers dipping into your skin just harshly enough to leave a mark. A short whine comes out of your lips as you bite on them, looking at him.

You barely see the silhouette of the body because of the dark alley you’re in, but you don’t care. You can imagine his face, that adorable smirk appearing and spreading wider with each of his movements.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Holding out your hand, you wrap it around the tie on his neck and you tug him so that his body is pressed against yours. The cold wall behind your back mixed with the hot flashes of desire and pleasure pulsating through your body is a dizzy combination, amplifying everything that you’re feeling.

Spencer brings his other hand up to your neck, gripping your hair and yanking it harshly enough to force you to look up at him. A short gasp falls out from your lips, his smirk spreads even wider on those sinful lips.

“Are you sure you want me to corrupt you, little angel?”

His breath lingers over your mouth, his eyes staring you down to the point you don’t know if your legs will be able to hold you up.

“Yes, please.”

You can see he’s pondering about what to say next, but there’s nothing coherent that seems to be able to slip out. You shudder when his right leg pushes against your hips, right where you need him the most. His mind is just as messy as yours right now, blinding him to the point he barely knows where to start.

Spencer pulls your hair again before slamming your chest against the wall. You put both your hands before you can end up getting hurt, the quick movements leaving you completely breathless.

His left hand works quickly to unbutton his pants and you wonder if he’s actually going to take you right there, in the dirty alley behind a club on Halloween night.

You don’t care.

His other hand lifts the skirt of your white dress before slipping right between your legs. Another moan comes out of your mouth as you close your eyes, ready to feel the collision of his body against yours once again.

“What are you doing, sir?” you ask

Spencer presses his chest to your back, his lips tracing the soft skin of your shoulder before leaving a bite right underneath your earlobe. He doesn’t need to answer you with words because his fingers are already making their way to your panties, gently grazing over them.

“Corrupting your soul.”

You push your hips back to his, licking your bottom lip when his fingers cast your panties aside. You’re already wet, the pleasure blinding you and overpowering you to the point you’re already a mess before he can even think about touching you.

Never in the world would you have thought you’d end up with a devil behind you, ready to take you and show you how you need to be treated.

Spencer barely touches your clit with the tip of his thumb when you let out a desperate moan, spreading your legs without even him asking you to. You’re so desperate to have him you barely hear the snicker coming from his lips, how he shakes his head and bites your neck once again.

The pathetic whimper slipping out of your mouth is enough to tell him you need more, so he gives it to you.

You bend over to push your panties down your legs, but Spencer brings you up again. He doesn’t want you to slip away from his grip, mainly because this night has just barely started.

“I would love to take you right here, but I don’t think it’d be fitting for an angel like you.” - Spencer whispers in your ear, his index grazing over your entrance before burying it right there - “I’m just going to give you a little taste of what’s going to happen tonight.”

You nod your head as another whorish moan comes out of your mouth, your head dangling behind against his shoulder. You’re grateful he’s not taking you right there for a simple reason.

You want to see him when he’ll bury his cock inside of you. You want to see every detail of his face when the pleasure will be so strong. You want to see him break down because of all the pleasure you know you can give him and know he can take from you.

You want him to crumble down for you.

When Spencer pushes another finger inside of you to the hilt, you can’t help, but whine at the stretching sensation. Your wetness is coating his fingers, allowing them to slip in and out of you with ease.

Spencer’s mouth is still on your throat.

“Fuck, fuck…”

“Such naughty words for a little angel like you.”

Spencer presses harder into you, the burning sensation disappearing to allow the intense pleasure to take over. You whine at his intrusion and close your eyes, focusing on the wet sounds of his fingers pushing in and out of you and the whispers from his lips.

“I didn’t know little angels liked to be fingered in dirty alleys behind clubs. Or are they just little sluts like us devils?”

Right now you’re a slut.

Right now you are whatever he says you are.

You don’t care about anything else, but his fingers inside of you, corrupting your soul and chipping it away one movement at a time.

“Or did I just find the perfect little slut for me?”

You can’t help but moan at his words, nodding your head. You want to spread your legs even more, but your panties are preventing you from doing so, the stretchy fabric blocking your movements.

You are a slut for him, needing his contact more and more to bring you to the edge of pleasure.

“M-More.”

Spencer clicks his tongue, running it across your neck. “More? Does my little angel want more? Does she want to come on my fingers?”

“Yes!”

You can hardly stand against the wall, your fingers gripping whatever they can as your hips push towards his hand. His fingers are brushing over the sweet spot inside of you, touching it so meticulously and pressing onto it as if they were meant to do so.

Each movement brings you closer and closer to the edge.

A heat wave spreads through your body, settling right between your legs and behind your belly button. You can feel his erection pressing against your ass, adding to the pleasure already burning deeply within you.

You’re shocked at how much self-control he has.

You hope he loses it soon.

Spencer picks up the pace of his movements. “That’s it, little angel. Tell me how good I am making you feel, how much you’ve wanted my fingers fucking your pretty cunt.”

A gasp runs out of your mouth.

“Spencer, please… I…”

The brutal pace of his fingers fucking you drags more moans out of your lips, not caring if anybody can hear you. That’s the last one of your problems because right now, you only need to come.

You grip his bicep with your right hand, digging your fingers into his skin and leaving moonlights all over it. You don’t know for how long you’re going to keep holding on.

You’re already slipping towards the edge.

“Say my name louder, little angel. Let everyone know how you’re allowing a dark, twisted demon to fuck your pretty cunt.”

Your hips buckle against his as you let out another whine, calling out his name in chants that seem to excite him even more.

Moans, curses, his name…

Nothing coherent is coming out, but he doesn’t care, he loves the panting mess you’ve become in his arms. If you’re letting go like this for his hand, he can’t wait to see what you’ll do and how you’ll behave when he’ll finally take you.

He’s going to enjoy every second of his night with you, watching those fluffy wings turning into demonic ones and your behaviour changing even drastically than before.

Now that you’ve got his attention, he’s going to make it worth your while.

Spencer presses his hips against yours, inserting another finger inside of you and using his thumb to toy with your throbbing clit.

“Oh fuck, Spencer! Fuck, please, m-more…”

“Take what you’re given and be grateful, little angel. This is just the beginning.”

His words seem to twist something inside of you because soon you’re coming, clenching your walls against his fingers and cursing his name more. Your whole body goes stiff, but his movements don’t slow down, dragging your orgasm for as long as they can.

You arch your back as you feel his mouth biting the soft skin of your throat, your wetness sliding down his fingers.

“Look at you, little angel.” - he whispers in your ear, his tongue caressing your earlobe before his teeth tease it - "Allowing a demon to own your body? That’s dangerous, you should know that.”

Tensing under his touch, you feel your body spasming.

Your breath is stuck in your throat, your legs are shaking and if it wasn’t for Spencer’s body behind you, you would’ve been on the floor.

Gently pulling out his fingers from your body, Spencer leans his forehead against your shoulder. You turn your head just enough for him to look up at you. The faint lights coming from a car not too far from you are enough to show you how his pupils are blown.

And his cheeks are flushed, desire clearly written all over his face.

Turning your body to his, you grab his hand and push his fingers inside of your mouth.

You taste your own arousal on his fingertips as your tongue swirls around them, sucking them clean.

“You look so good with my fingers in your mouth.”

Winking, you take them out and press a soft kiss on his wrist. “I taste good. You should try me.”

“Oh, I will, little angel. Just not now.” - Spencer mumbles over your lips, nudging his nose against yours - “Do you think you can stand for me?”

You manage to nod your head, watching him take a step away from you. When you don’t feel his arms around you, you let out a sigh and you turn around.

There’s no one in sight and you wonder if anybody has heard or seen you.

If they did, well… You hope it was a good show.

Fixing your pants underneath your dress, you watch Spencer buckling his pants up again. You wonder why he opened them if he wasn’t planning on fucking you - or maybe he wanted to do that, and then he remembered he didn’t have any condoms on him.

You don’t have them either.

You weren’t exactly planning on having sex with someone tonight.

“Do you want to come home with me?”

You run your fingers through your hair, looking up at the man in front of you. “I was hoping you’d ask that.”

Once you’re all fixed, Spencer wraps his right arm around your body. You follow him inside the parking lot with a grin over your lips, barely noticing people staring at the two of you from the entrance of the dark alley you were in a few seconds ago.

Maybe they heard you, maybe they didn’t.

Honestly? You don’t care.

When you’re in the car with Spencer, you pull out your phone from your bra. You forgot you had it in there and you know you probably have the mark of it on the skin of your breasts, but you don’t care.

Being pressed against a wall and finger-fucked by a man dressed as a devil felt too good to be interrupted by a stupid phone.

Spencer drives out of the parking lot while you text your best friend that you’re going home with the stranger. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride, just enjoying the silent looks you’re giving him and the little smirk that is slowly appearing over your lips.

You admire his hands gripping the steering wheel, thinking about those fingers that were inside of you and bringing you to the edge of desire just a few moments ago.

They were covered in your arousal and then they were not.

They were in your mouth and then they were not.

That’s so fucking hot.

Spencer taps his index over his bottom lip. “You’re staring.”

Your nose twitches at his words. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I like it when you watch me.” - he tells you with a little smile, glancing at you before stopping at a traffic light - “I just didn’t think you’d keep doing that, since you’ve done it the whole night.”

Chuckling, you shrug. “You’re a handsome young man, dark and twisted demon.”

“Thank you. You’re quite gorgeous yourself, little angel.”

It doesn’t take long to reach an empty parking lot in front of a dark building on the right side of the road.

Spencer parks the car at best and unbuckles his seat-belt, jumping out and opening the door for you. Thanking him in a whisper, you step out while you take off your fluffy wings.

As cute as they are, they’re incredibly uncomfortable - and you’re sure you’ll end up completely naked in his apartment. There’s no point in keeping them on, but Spencer seems to disagree with your opening.

“Keep them on.”

You blink at his words, silently nodding.

You’re not going to disobey him, you want him to know that you’re willing to do anything he wants. After all, he just gave you an incredible orgasm and he was nice enough to not fuck you and ruin your dress in a dark alley.

That’s cute.

Spencer leads the way inside the building, quickly opening the door of his apartment before allowing you to step inside first. A faint smell of lavender welcomes you, soon followed by the warmth of Spencer’s fingers grabbing you by the waist.

You feel yourself growing impatient as soon as he touches you.

It’s incredible how addicted you are to him already.

You take off your shoes as soon as you start feeling his hands travelling down to your thighs, gasping when he pushes his skirt up your legs. Spencer only does that so he can take off your panties, sliding them down your thighs.

“Take them off and give them to me.”

You obey, shuffling out of your panties before picking them up. Spencer grabs them from your hands and puts them inside of his pocket, taking a step away from you.

His eyes never leave yours.

He’s admiring you, watching how your body is reacting to that simple touch and that request. Your cheeks are already red, your eyes are still watery from what he did to you earlier and he notices the vein on your neck vibrating.

You’re so excited, so needy and desperate to have him.

“Get on your knees for me, little angel.”

You do, dropping right in front of him as your fluffy wings flutter.

Spencer runs his fingers through your hair, gripping it before yanking your head back again. You’re forced to look at him, your gaze stained with pleasure and desire. You want to make him feel so good just like he did with you.

Never thought you, dressed up as an angel, would give a blowjob to a man dressed up as a devil.

It’s ironic.

And extremely hot.

“Angels should pray on their knees. Now you’re going to do more than that.” - Spencer says with a smirk, unzipping his pants - “Isn’t that right, little angel?”

You nod your head vigorously because of course you want to do that. You’re so desperate to feel him on your tongue that you’ve forgotten how to speak, too busy dreaming about how amazing he’ll feel.

Spencer lets go of your hair, pushing his pants down. “Good. Then worship me.”

You get to it as soon as his cock springs free, your right hand immediately wrapping around it with your eyes on his face. You’re not going to drop your gaze, you want to see Spencer break down because of your mouth, because of how sinful your tongue is and feels.

You wonder if you’re still good at it.

Spencer squirms under your gaze but pretends he doesn’t, licking his bottom lip and caressing your face with his hand. Having you on your knees, dressed up as an angel, feels so fucking hot - and naughty at the same time.

When you lick the head of his cock with a swirl of your tongue, Spencer feels like he’s being thrown up into Heaven. He has to repeat to himself that he can’t come so quickly, or he’ll disappoint you - but you don’t care.

As long as he’s satisfied, you’re more than willing to drink his nectar.

Spencer releases the sweetest moan ever when you finally take him into your mouth, massaging what doesn’t fit with your hand. Your eyes are still on his face, watching his nose twitching and his lips trembling.

His brown eyes are staring you down as well, not leaving yours for a second.

You wonder if he’s doing this to show you that he still has some control over you, but you don’t care. It feels so fucking good to give him pleasure and being able to admire his beauty through it.

“That’s my good little angel. You’re doing so good for me.”

His praise doesn’t go unheard.

You hollow your cheeks around his cock, sucking it lightly while your tongue works up and down his shaft. Your hands run up Spencer's body, settling over his hips to guide it back and forth.

You push his black shirt up, silently begging him to take it off. He does, showing off his beautiful body now kissed by the faint lights inside of his living room.

You realize that you’re basically against the entrance door.

Spencer was too eager to have you to carry you to the bedroom. You don’t complain, there’s plenty of time to get there.

The thought makes you giggle.

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, pulling it out of your mouth before sucking it again. Spencer gasps at your gesture but doesn’t say anything, caressing your hair again and enjoying the warmth of your mouth.

He swings his hips just a little, watching you gag.

“Fuck. Yeah, keep going, little angel.” - Spencer’s voice is broken by the pleasure and you feel a wave of pride washing over you - “I’m not going to last long.”

Pulling out his cock from your mouth and massaging it up and down, you lick your bottom lip. Spit is covering your chin and his length as well, making it easier for you to touch him like this.

“I don’t want you to.”

Spencer chuckles at your response, running his hand through his hair while he closes his eyes. The sound of your hand sliding up and down his cock, mixed with the little gasps coming out of his mouth are enough to make you wet all over again - the desire is radiating off his body, but yours as well.

It’s incredible how touching someone like this could have such an impact on you and your self-control.

Spencer moans loudly when you swirl your thumb over the head of his cock, your tongue touching the underside of it. You know it’s one of the most sensitive points so you keep hitting it, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking on it gently.

“Feels so fucking good, little angel.”

Spencer feels as if his body is on fire.

The more you take him into your mouth, the more he thinks he has just been thrown back into Hell because of the intensity of the pleasure. What you’re giving him is more than just pleasure: it’s desire, it’s greed, it’s lust.

Everything.

You want to stain his soul.

And you’re succeeding.

“If this is what corrupting and defiling an angel feels like, then I should fall from grace a little more.”

You manage not to laugh at his little joke for obvious reasons as you continue your own fall, forcing him to give you what you need. Using your left hand to grip what can’t fit in your mouth, you start bobbing your head up and down. Your tongue swirls around his length, watching him getting closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

The same edge you were riding not too long ago.

Until he finally falls off it.

Spencer grips your hair to warn you about his upcoming release but you don’t move away, wanting to know what Hell tastes like.

“Y/N, I…”

You shake your head, stroking his cock with your hand. “Come for me, sir. Please, come down my throat. I need it so badly."

Spencer feels the pleasure booming through his body when you bring your mouth back down on his cock, your lips wrapping around his head. And finally he allows pleasure to take control of his whole body.

His back arches as the tip of your tongue flicks over the slit of his cock and finally, you feel his come dripping down your throat. You swallow without complaining, the salty taste making your eyes roll in the back of your head.

You can’t wait to feel that inside of you, if he’ll be sweet enough to give it to you.

Spencer’s entire body is tingling with the release, his thighs are quivering and a chorus of curses are flying out of his mouth. The intensity of the moment and the sight of your beautiful eyes staring at him are enough to drive him completely crazy.

You watch him gripping the back of his couch, trying to find something to steady himself.

Slowly, you pull away from him and swallow every drop of his release with your eyes still on his face. Spencer hasn’t stopped looking at you, watching the saliva dripping down your chin and a few drops of his come running down your neck.

He has never seen such a beautiful sight in his life before.

“Holy fucking shit.”

You wink at him. “Holy indeed.”

Spencer takes a deep breath, watching you get up from the floor and stripping out of your dress without him having to say anything. You don’t care if he wanted you to keep the wings, you’re not going to do that - not even if he begs you on his knees.

They’re annoying.

You’re going to want to move freely when Spencer is finally going to fuck you somewhere in his apartment.

An apartment you end up admiring as he tries to get his breath back.

There are so many books around you, covering every single angle of the living room. Piles of books and documents and different prints are all over, there’s not a spot where you can’t find at least two books.

You wonder if he has read every single one of them.

The answer is probably “yes”.

Completely naked and wandering around the living room, Spencer follows you in silence as he unbuckles his pants. Once he’s naked as well, wearing nothing, but his briefs just like you’re only wearing your bra and your panties, he grabs you by the hand.

You turn around, eyeing him up and down.

You smirk.

He looks so pretty right now.

“Thought I’d join you.”

“Hm, the naked brigade.”

Spencer chuckles, his hand sliding over your arm before you turn your whole body around.

It doesn’t take long for you to end up in his arms again, his grip tightening around your waist as he finally pulls you into a hug. A hug that soon transforms into a kiss, because his mouth covers yours in such a delicate manner.

If before there only was desire and lust, now everything has been toned down by passion.

A passion that doesn’t need to explode but blossom between you.

His warm hands travel down your back, settling right underneath your thighs. You try your best to spread them for him, his body crashing against yours to feel the heat radiating off your skin. You’re basking in his grip, moaning softly over his lips with his tongue slipping inside of your mouth.

He can taste his own release on the tip of his tongue and he’s drunk.

Drunk of pleasure, of desire, of lust.

Of everything he knows you can give him.

Spencer doesn’t know if this is how Hell feels like, but he can’t get enough.

“Bedroom?”

You don’t even need to answer him because he already knows what you’re going to say. His right hand slips right into yours as you follow him inside the hallway, leaving all of your clothes right in front of the door.

It’s amusing how you couldn’t even make it to his bedroom before.

Spencer leads you to his bedroom and turns the lights on, turning his head to look at you. The faint smell of lavender has been replaced by the smell of you. Spencer wonders if his bedsheets are going to smell like you tomorrow - if they won’t, he’s going to be so disappointed.

You stare at the pile of books on his nightstand right next to a file with the mark of the FBI.

You widen your eyes, surprised by the sight. You were expecting him to be a Professor or something similar, but never an FBI agent. You just… didn’t think of it.

You were too focused on eating him with your own eyes, you weren’t exactly thinking about what his occupation is. Not that you care, honestly. You need him to ruin you, to fuck you, to own you, to corrupt your innocence.

Did you really let an FBI agent finger you in the back of a dirty alley?

Spencer stands behind you, his mouth leaving quick kisses on his shoulders. You lean your head to the side and close your eyes, enjoying the softness of his lips brushing all over your skin as it leaves traces of fire behind.

“You’ve been so good for me tonight, little angel.”

Spencer’s voice sounds sinful right now, soft and raspy.

You can barely speak, your words stuck in your throat when his hand lingers right over it. It’s incredible how a simple touch can send you into overdrive, filled with desire and blind with lust. There’s no point in denying Spencer knows what to do.

“I want to make you feel good.”

Spencer nudges his nose against your throat. “I could see that. Your mouth felt incredible around me, but I’m sure something else will feel much better.”

You whine when his right hand travels down your chest, grasping your breast. His fingers are harshly digging into your skin, leaving marks that you will think about for the rest of your days.

“Don’t you agree, little angel?”

His fingers twist your nipple, eliciting a moan from your lips. “Yes. Yes, I agree.”

Turning your body against his once again, Spencer kisses your mouth.

This time is different because of the way his tongue is owning yours, biting your bottom lip, proves how much Spencer desires you and how deeply he’s eager to have you in any way he can.

You allow him, because there’s nothing you want more than to feel his touch all over you for as long as you can. You don’t want this night to end.

Spencer pulls your body closer to him with a swift move, his erection pressing greedily to your spread thighs. You gasp at the sensation, bucking his hips forward and moving just enough to steal a moan from his lips.

“Please.”

He doesn’t listen to your pleas, placing his other hand on your breast. He kneads them harshly, twisting and toying with your already hardened nipples. You moan against his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck, lifting your body just enough so that you’re completely pressed against his body.

You want him so fucking bad.

Spencer slides his hand behind your back, unclasping your bra and sliding it off your shoulders. He wants to see every inch of you and he’s going to worship every detail of your body, starting with your nipples.

His mouth attaches to the right one, sucking it lightly and gently biting on it as you throw your head back. You’ve never felt like this before, such a fire burning deep inside of your body - and it’s ironic, since you’re an angel.

Angel shouldn’t feel like this.

However, tonight you’re his little angel.

You run your fingers through Spencer’s curls, tugging on them. “Hm, feels so good.”

Spencer draws patterns over your nipple before moving to the other one, enjoying the way your back arches because of his movements. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel everything he’s giving you.

You’re lost in the pleasure.

Hell has never felt so good.

Your hips buck against his body, desperate to feel his hot tongue somewhere else. You don’t want to be too greedy but you don’t care, you want him to the point you’re willing to reach Hell and stay there for the rest of your life.

His mouth closes around your left nipples as his teeth graze over it, but his hands are working to slide your panties down your legs. You kick them away and spread your legs just enough for him to settle his hand right over your sex, now completely exposed for him and his lustful eyes.

Spencer seems to understand your eagerness because soon, he’s matching it.

“Please, take me. Please, Spencer, I beg of you.”

Spencer pulls away from your chest, giving you a long look. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips look even plumper. He can sense the neediness booming through your body, noticing how your hands are desperately clinging to his arms and his curls.

You want him so badly.

He wants you even more.

Spencer pushes his briefs down his legs, finally exposing his beautiful body to your own eyes. You let them linger on his chest for a few seconds before settling them back up on your face, smiling softly.

“You look beautiful.”

“You look even better, little angel.”

Spencer moves behind you again, his palms sliding over your thighs before spreading them as you bend over. Your hands end up on the edge of his bed, a similar position he bent you in when you were still in the parking lot of the club.

“Now I’m going to finally have my way with you.”

An excited laugh comes out of your lips when you feel his cock pressing right over your entrance, your wetness coating his head.

“Yes. Please, take me. I know you want me to.”

“Is my little angel ready to have her soul corrupted by mine?”

You eagerly nod at his question, feeling his devilish smirk creeping up on his lips. “Yes. More than ready, sir.”

Spencer doesn’t enter just yet, pushing your body forward so that you’re laying flat on your stomach on his bed. Your thighs are spread wide open for Spencer and he has never seen such a beautiful image right in front of his very eyes.

You’re dripping because of him, your thighs are quivering in anticipation and there are marks all over your hips and neck that he did. He can’t believe he has you all for himself right now, after watching you so carefully and excitingly inside that club.

All of those guys who wanted you, all of those guys who tried to touch you...

They didn’t get to have you.

Spencer is.

“I want to see your face.”

You roll over his bed, lying down on the bed facing him. You don’t want to disobey Spencer and you’re more than willing to admire him as he owns you, possesses you, takes control of every single inch of you and more.

You’ve been craving that since you saw him, knowing exactly how he was going to touch you and show you how much he wants you.

You roll your hips to meet his, making him whimper at your gesture. “Come on, dark and twisted devil, show me what you’re capable of. I need it.”

Spencer towers on top of your body, his mouth attaching to the side of your neck and peppering it with light kisses. You close your eyes and arch your back, a soft moan coming out of your lips as you try your best to keep quiet.

You want him so badly.

You don’t know how you’re holding yourself back this way.

“Please...”

Spencer grumbles at your pleas. “Alright, little angel, but first...”

He doesn’t move from your body, reaching out for something in his nightstand on the right side of his bed. When you realise what he’s holding in the palm of his hand, you grab his wrist and shake your head without breaking eye-contact.

You don’t know if this is desire talking for you or if it’s actually what you want, but you don’t care. You want Spencer to be inside of you completely freely, feeling every inch of you clinging to him and gripping him like a vice.

You crave that contact so badly.

“I’m clean.”

Spencer’s eyes widen at your response. The condom falls back on the nightstand as he moves back on top of your body, staring you down. He’s not surprised by your answer and the desire flashing behind your eyes. You’re completely at his mercy right now and he knows you’d do anything for him.

You’d never lie, though.

“Such a naughty little angel.” – he whispers, his mouth grazing over yours and making your heart flutter in your chest – “Do you really want me to come inside of you? Are you sure you want to let a devil like me defile you, fill this pretty cunt?”

You nod your head ever so eagerly, humming. “Yes. Please, I know you want to.”

Spencer doesn’t need to be told twice, wanting tonight to be the end of your misery and the beginning of something incredibly wicked that will go on for long. He started to corrupt your innocence since he made you dance so shamelessly against others to catch his attention; now he’s not going to budge or give up on your demand, desperate to give you everything.

You’re going to take every drop he has to offer.

And you’re going to bask in it, enjoying it fully.

Spencer is going to show you how it feels to be owned, what it means to have someone marking you so deeply inside of you. He’s sure you won’t be able to think about anything or anyone else for days, you’ll feel him drip out of you for the rest of your life.

And honestly, you can’t wait for that.

“I want you to look at me the whole time I’m owning you, little angel. I want you to feel every inch of me, I want you to show me how grateful you are to have me inside of you.” - Spencer whispers, his mouth covering your ear as he nips at your earlobe - “You’re being too quiet.”

You don’t understand how he expects you to say something intelligent or coherent when he’s ruining you, chipping away your soul piece by piece with his hands, his fingers hooking on your hips and pushing you further down the bed.

Your breath is rugged, your chest is rising up and down rapidly.

Your mind is hazy, filled with nothing but desire, lust and whorish moans that you’re trying to hold back.

“Please.”

Spencer clicks his tongue, watching you squirm when he spreads your legs. “Beg me.”

You gasp when his right hand cups your heat, his fingers toying with your slit. You can barely keep your eyes open, which is already a disappointment.

“Please, Spencer, I… I need you inside of me. Please.”

Your voice comes out as a whisper, vanishing into the air of his bedroom. Your legs squeeze around his waist as Spencer hoists his hips just enough to align himself with your entrance. Not saying anything, he grabs his cock from the base and teases your wet folds.

You whine again, closing your eyes. “Please, I’ve been so good to you… Please, give it to me.”

Spencer reaches out for your neck with his free hand, his fingers digging into your soft skin as they cut off the air supply. You gasp at the sensation but you don’t say anything, the pleasure exploding through your body to the point you can barely say his name.

You don’t know who you are, why you’re there, or who you are with.

Nothing, your mind is completely blank.

“Spencer, please, just fuck me. I need to come, please, I need it.”

You feel so incredibly pathetic, moving your hips against his body and watching his eyes staring at you with that devilish smirk spreading over his lips. It’s annoying how he looks so amused in such an intense moment, because you can feel how hard he is and how eager he is to slip inside of you.

He wants you, it’s undeniable, but he has much more self-control than you.

“If you don’t do it, I’ll do it myself!” you exclaim

Those words seem to have some kind of reaction within him because Spencer immediately pushes his cock inside of you, barely giving you the time to stretch and adjust to his size.

Your body trembles at the sensation, your orgasm already building up behind your belly button as a wave of pleasure washes through you. Spencer leans forward and hides his face in the crook of your neck, his mouth immediately attaching to your skin.

“Oh my…”

“Don’t say God.” - Spencer whispers, making you smile - “Tonight there’s no God, just me.”

Once Spencer is bottomed out inside of you, he starts thrusting at a quick pace. You don’t even understand what is happening because the pleasure explodes even more intensely, forcing you to grip the metal bars of the headboard.

Every whorish moan you kept inside of your throat before, has been now released. Your voice echoes through the room, the wet sound of your bodies joining one another is enough to make your heart flutter in your chest.

“Fuck, fuck… More.”

As much as you love letting him know that he’s breaking you down until you’re at your most vulnerable point, you’re dying to hear his moans as well. You want to know how good you’re making him feel, how amazing the pleasure he’s taking from you is.

“That’s it, little angel, you’re doing so good.”

It’s like as if he heard your thoughts.

You place both your hands behind his neck, pushing his head down so that your lips can meet all over again in a kiss that has nothing sweet in it. It’s pure lust and desire, an animalistic need that has been running through your bloodstream and invading his body as well.

Your back arches off the bed, your breasts brush against his chest and his mouth bites and nibbles your neck. You know there will be too many marks on your neck but you don’t care, you need everything.

You want everything he can give you.

Spencer grits his teeth at the sensation of your walls clenching around his cock, admiring the way your face is twisted in pleasure. Your brows are furrowed and your lips are slightly parted, your mouth trying to pull away just enough.

When you do, it’s because you can’t help but cry out his name in pleasure.

You’re struggling to keep your cool, completely losing yourself at his incredible ability to touch you and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. An edge you ride with so much difficulty.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well inside this pretty cunt.” - Spencer groans, his left hand travelling between your body as he starts touching your clit - “You feel so good, I can’t get enough of you.”

You whimper with your eyes closed, your head thrown back against the pillow. You can barely hear the sound of his voice, too lost in the shuffling of the blanket and the wet sounds of your bodies coming together.

Slamming into you each time with more force, Spencer takes the words out of your mouth.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you? Mine for the take, mine to use, mine to worship.”

You purr at his words, smirking because you’re ruining him as well. He might be taking you down to Hell with him, but you’re not the only one who wants to be damned once and for all tonight. Spencer might have control over your body, but you have it over his mind - and you don’t know what’s worse.

“Yes, Spencer. I'm all yours, please.” - you mumble, feeling your orgasm approaching rather quickly and the pace of his thrusts faltering - “Let me come, please.”

You desperately crave the release you’ve been running towards for the past hour, his cock pushing in and out of you at such a quick pace. A pace that leaves you completely breathless, hopeless, filled with a deep desire that you can feel coming out of your throat and wrapping all around you.

“Is that what you want, little angel? Do you want to come for me?” - Spencer asks, voice filled with tenderness - “Do you want to come all over my cock for me?”

You nod your head, struggling to say anything else. It’s all you want and crave. “Yes, please. Let me do that, please.”

When you feel Spencer picking up the pace, you feel your toes curling in pleasure and your whole body tightening at his touch.

“Come for me, little angel.”

That’s all it takes for you before the orgasm washes over you. Spencer rips a cry of pleasure from your chest, your back arching and your fingers digging into the soft skin of his neck as you try to look at him in the eyes.

There are tears streaming down your face. Your fingers are gripping the bed sheet and his skin, marking him exactly like he’s doing.

The tension has snapped within you, a chorus of curses and his name falls off your mouth.

Spencer captures your lips with his, a kiss that is nothing but messy. There’s no grace at all, it’s just a gesture that Spencer showed you because he wants you to know that he owns you, he has you and you’re all his.

You are, you wouldn’t want anything else.

Spencer keeps thrusting in and out of you, prolonging his own pleasure until he can’t take it anymore.

Watching him apart because of you has never felt better.

His eyes burn your skin, the sensation filling his body finally comes to an end as he reaches his peak. You lose your grip on the headboard as your nails scratch his back, feeling his warmth filling you up to the brim and leaving you breathless.

“Take it, little angel. Take all of it.”

You do.

You stare at him with widened eyes, gasps and curses flowing out of your mouth as you praise him for being so good, so sweet and tender to you, no matter the marks he has covered your body with.

No trace of innocence, no trace of anything else but his desire dripping out of you and pooling it right on the sheets.

Spencer collapses on top of you with half-lidded eyes and the same devilish smirk on his lips, your arms quickly wrapping around his neck. The warmth of his body is enough to satiate you, making you smile even wider than before.

This is exactly what satisfaction feels like.

You throw your head back with your eyes closed, taking a deep breath.

You don’t know for how long you lay like that on the bed with him. His curls tickle the lower part of your pace as his fingers draw circles over your belly, before the palm of his hand gently caresses your thigh.

When Spencer pulls out of you, you whine at the loss of his body.

Closing your legs, you turn your head to the side where Spencer is settling and you roll your body, so that you’re laying your head on his chest.

Spencer keeps an arm around your shoulders and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“My good little angel.”

You giggle at the pet-name, looking up at him. “All yours.”

He runs his fingers through your hair, pressing another open-mouthed kiss on your lips. “Do you think you can stand?”

“Hm, I don’t think so.” - you tell him with honesty, your nose twitching - “Can I stay here for a little while? I’ll be good.”

“I know you will, you’re my good little angel.” - Spencer pulls away from your grip, stepping down the bed - “I’ll clean you up.”

When he disappears from the bedroom, leaving you all alone with your thoughts, you roll on your bed again and you close your eyes. You wonder if your friend is okay, if she has found somebody to go home with because you did - and you plan on staying here the whole night.

Something tells you that Spencer is not done with you yet.

Once he’s back inside of his bedroom with a warm washcloth in his hand, he kneels between your legs and cleans you up. You whine when his hands linger a little too long over your spread thighs, admiring the mess he has made inside you that’s still dripping out of your body.

You feel the tip of his index sliding up to your clit and you squirm, looking at Spencer.

“What are you doing?”

He smirks, licking his bottom lip. “I think I want to know what Heaven tastes like.”

Before you can open your mouth to say something, you feel his lips closing around your clit and his fingers making their way back inside of you.

It doesn’t take long for you to linger over the edge of desire, your third orgasm of the night approaching rather quickly. Spencer is relentless, fucking you with his fingers and his mouth all over again with his eyes settled on your face the whole time.

You close your legs around his head, his tongue completely buried inside of you and probably tasting the mixture of his come and your arousal.

It’s so fucking hot.

“Heaven tastes so fucking sweet.” - Spencer mumbles, his lips caressing your clit before closing around it - “Let go, little angel. And let me bask in the joy of Heaven.”

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, exploding through your body as a loud cry of pleasure comes out of your lips. Spencer cleans every drop of your orgasm off your body, moaning softly at the sensation of your fingers pulling and tugging on his curls as he stares you down.

He has never seen such a beautiful creature before in his life.

Spencer lazily traces your slit with his tongue, watching you squirm because of him.

“Fuck, Spencer… You’re killing me here.”

He chuckles at your response, pulling away when you stiffen at his touch. You don’t want him to touch you again because you’re overwhelmed. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire and you’re sure this is the fire of Hell, dragging you further and further down to the point of no return. The painful pleasure running through every cell within you and your thighs is enough for you to push his hand away.

Spencer presses more kisses on your inner thighs, smiling softly before lying back down on the bed with you.

Cuddling up to his body, you close your eyes as he covers your naked back with the blanket.

“Stay the night.”

You nod.

“..So I can ruin you a little more tomorrow morning.”

You can’t help but chuckle, placing your right hand on your cheek. “Can’t wait.”

When you waddle out of his apartment the next day, you can’t help but giggle. His signs won’t fade away for the next few days, but by that time, there will be new ones to substitute the old ones.

And this time... You’re going to show him how Heaven feels like.

NSFW taglist: @getyoutmoon, @bookishspencer @calm-and-doctor @reidswhoree @nazifa94 @srhxpci @eevee0722 @reichelhache @aperrywilliams @escapingrealities @beepbooptoop @anime-for-live @alfonsais @lil-stark @muffin-cup @allexthakatt @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @nomajdetective @gyllord @winterwhore @pauline5525mgg @hotchandspencearedilfs @matthewgraygublerwife @jadealicious06 @avocadopenguins @reidsmilf @softreidx

I added alot of people to my taglist because they asked me to. I don't ask much in return, just a reblog or a like or a short comment. I'm taking an extra step to tag all of these people in my taglist, but I've noticed a lot of them either haven't read the work (which is fine!!!) or commented/liked/reblogged it.

It’s seriously inconsiderate, not to mention irritating. It's frustrating to keep a taglist and take a lot of time tagging people, just for them to ignore my works or my mentions. I don't mean to be rude, but this had to be said.

Writing takes a long time and a lot of work. I put my soul in everything I write, so it brings me so much joy to know that people read my stuff - but if you ask to be a part of something so dear to my heart, and then completely ignore me and my works, then we have a problem.

If you don't want to be part of my taglist anymore because you don't like what I write or whatever reason you have (which I completely understand!), just DM me and I will delete your name from the taglist.

Thank you. x

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xiaosmoon · 3 years

Text

doing autumn activities together

pairings: childe, xiao, diluc, kazuha, & thoma x gn!reader

warnings/content: fluff

a/n: it's not even fall season i'm just too excited lol. also diluc loves apple pie change my mind. not proofread. this was kinda rushed i'm sorry.

-> childe - visiting the pumpkin patch

he would find the prettiest pumpkin for you guys to carve together later.

"ouuu y/n look, that booth has pumpkin ice cream. come on, let's go!"

childe would 100% be that one person whose obsessed with pumpkin everything. lattes? check. pies? check. seasoning? yep. you name it.

he'll hold your hand as you guys walk through the corn maze together. "no need to be scared, i've got you." but the second a scary werewolf jumps out he's a goner.

if there's an apple bobbing contest, you best believe he's entering. surprisingly enough, he ends up winning! the prize was a jumbo teddy bear which he ends up giving to you! <3

once the sun begins setting, you guys decide to end the day with a nice cup of apple cider and a hayride. needless to say, a pumpkin patch date with childe is the perfect way to kickstart the season.

-> xiao - carving pumpkins

xiao loves the autumn season, mostly because the rainy weather gives him an excuse to stay home all the time.

when you invited him over to carve pumpkins with you, he wasn't expecting to love it so much.

"xiao, look at this one!" your pumpkin was lopsided, with eyes that didn't match and a mouth that didn't look right, but xiao thought it was adorable.

meanwhile xiao's pumpkin was an entire picasso art piece. it looked a little something like this and you were in awe. "how are you so good at this?!" "i don't know, i guess i'm good at pumpkin art."

after your pumpkins were done, you set them up in your kitchen for decoration. "yours is so much better than mine." you pouted your lips.

xiao smiled to himself before planting a quick kiss on your lips. "i personally like yours better. it's very authentic."

-> diluc - apple picking

when you first asked diluc to go apple picking, he was a bit thrown back by the idea. apple orchids and grape vineyards are basically enemies???

but after seeing how excited you were on going, how could he possibly say no?

"'luc, look at this apple! it's so red, just like your hair." your comparison of apples to his hair made him chuckle. "i think my hair might be redder, no?"

after picking all of your apples, you guys decide to go get fresh apple cider at their cafe! "do you think it'll be up to par with my grape juice?" diluc absentmindedly asked you. "i guess we'll see."

the apple cider in fact did not live up to his grape juice. personally you thought both beverages were great, but diluc thought the former.

"so you don't like their apples?" you tease him. diluc coughs, avoiding your gaze. "well, no. the apples are fine, but the cider was just bland." you smile and wrap your arms around his torso. "hey, at least we can use all of these apples to make apple pie!"

-> kazuha - attend a costume party

when you received an invitation to a halloween costume party from your friend, you immediately knew you had to match with kazuha!

"matching costumes? sounds like fun. what will we go as?" so you guys spend the entire day brainstorming costumes.

"how about a devil and angel?" "no, that's too basic." "salt and pepper?" "really kazuha?"

one pizza box and two cans of soda later, you both decided on going as the sun and the moon.

you thought kazuha would make a better sun, but he insisted that you go as the sun. "you brighten up every room you walk in, so it's only fair." even while planning costumes he manages to make you blush.

needless to say, you guys were the hottest couple at the party. you even won the best couple costume award just for being so dang cute!

-> thoma - holiday baking

the both of you always go out during the holiday season. decorations, gifts, costumes, you name it!

but your favorite activity to do together is baking and cooking all of your favorite holiday recipes! everyone always looks forward to your guys' famous pumpkin pie every friendsgiving.

"babe, where's the flour? i swear i just bought some yesterday." thoma is a very disorganized baker, but somehow his treats always come out absolutely mouth watering.

while thoma was reaching for the whisk, some of the flour on his sleeve accidentally rubbed against your cheek. "oh, i'm sorry let me–" before he could get another word out, you had already smeared a good amount of flour on his apron.

food wars were also a common occurrence between the two of you. you really don't know how your baked goods get done on time.

after finally placing your pie in the oven, thoma insists that you wash yourself off first so he can keep an eye on the pie. "fine, but don't eat any until i get back!" "alright alright i promise. now go!"

it was a very short lived promise. after your shower, you walked back into the kitchen to witness thoma eating the pie with a fork. "you liar!" yeah, he slept on the couch that night.

#childe x reader #thoma x reader #tohma x reader #kazuha x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfic #childe fanfic #tohma fanfic #thoma fanfic #kazuha fanfic #diluc fanfic #xiao fanfic #genshin impact x you

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dokifluffs · 3 years

Text

Dada’s Home | Oikawa, Atsumu

Pairings: Oikawa X Reader (female), Atsumu X Reader (female)

Genre: fluffy domestic haikyuu goodness

Author’s Note: oh to be y/n

Dada’s Home | Kenma, Iwaizumi // Dada’s Home | Ushijima, Tsukishima

Warnings! All post time skip! Spoilers to manga end for Iwa! and also they have kids

OIkawa:

"Yoohoo, Y/N~” Oikawa’s silky voice sounded from the front door, immediately pulling you from the sleep you were about to fall under as he shut the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes and letting everything drop to the benches near the door

Your head that was slowly falling, suddenly jerked upright against the couch, baby monitor still on before you on the table still giving you a view of your baby girl fast asleep in her crib upstairs

“Welcome home, Tooruuuu,” you stretched out every word as well as his name as his smile brightened the room even more as he jogged a little to the couch where you sat

“I’m home, Y/N~” he leaned down, cupping your head as he kissed you all over, repeatedly to your cheeks and forehead, fits of giggles erupting from all his affection tickling you

“And how’s our little angel?” He plopped himself down beside you, wrapping his arm around you to pull you even closer

“She’s sound asleep,” the two of you looked fondly to her through the night vision camera as she laid still, asleep with a bit of her tongue sticking out, a small habit of hers already developed

“Hm, we should sleep too. Thank you for waiting for me, but next time if you’re about to fall asleep, I don’t mind if you go to sleep first,” he smiled gently, leaning close to peck his lips to yours

“I might just take you up on that,” you yawned, almost losing balance as you stood but Tooru steadied you

He smelled so fresh as you walked beside him, you couldn’t wait to sleep

especially since tomorrow was a rare day off where Oikawa didn’t have practice and you had finally convinced him to rest

tomorrow was going to be one of the first days in so long since the three of you would spend the entire day together as a little family

You playfully swung his arm as the two of you held hands, walking up the stairs and down the hall toward the bedroom

He twirled you around as he nudged the bedroom door open with his foot

“Oh my god, I’m so excited to sleep,” you practically threw yourself into the center of the bed, pulling and burying your face into the comforter and pillows, letting the silky fabric rub against your skin

“I’m gonna change, don’t fall asleep without me just yet,” he hummed as disappeared into the closet

“Mmhm,” you could barely keep your eyes open at this point

By the time Oikawa came back out, donning a loose alien tshirt and pajama pants

and you were basically asleep at this point, your body laid on top of the covers

“Y/N, you need to actually get under the blanket,.” he laughed as he got onto the bed beside you, laying on the blanket as well as he draped his legs over you

but just as he did this

sad cries sounded from the baby monitor

“Aw, D/N,” you yawned as you naturally gravitated to her nursery whenever she cried

“Don’t worry, I got her. You get some sleep, alright?” He scooted himself off the edge of the bed as you melted back to your spot. “But asleep beneath the blanket”

He walked down the hall towards the semi-lit nursery as a nightlight cast dim stars and moons across the room’s walls

“Oh, oh oh, my sweet princess, what disrupted your precious sleep, baby?” Oikawa carefully lifted his daughter from the crib, his presence immediately able to soothe her cries

“Shh, it’s okay, papa’s here,” he chimed quietly as he swayed side to side, wiping her tears away as her cries got reduced to sniffles

“Papa’s here,” Oikawa repeated, his voice no louder than a whisper as his daughter leaned close, her tiny hands clinging onto his shirt as he rubbed his hand in a small circular pattern on her back

her small head resting on his shoulder, her short brown hair that matched Oikawa’s, tickled his jawline and cheek

“My sweet angel,” he hummed as he just absorbed this moment

Atsumu:

Atsumu let out a deep yawn as he entered through the sliding door of the side door the two of you mainly used, slipping out of his non-practice shoes, feeling the cold floor through his fresh socks before he slipped into his slippers, scattered around the smaller shoes of your guys’ children

Glancing at the time as he stepped into the main hallway, he was glad he showered back at the gym now since it meant now that he could go straight to sleep

Or so he thought as he plopped his bag down to the side near the coatrack in the corner of the hallway near the front door yet instead of being met with a dark house, the lights were still on

“Didn’t Y/N say she was goin’ ta sleep?” He scratched the back of his neck as he pulled out his phone, rereading the last messages the two of you sent to each other but he was right

That’s what what your last message had read, so why were the lights still o-

And then he saw it as he reached for the light switch, turning off the light to the main hall

“Hey, baby,” his voice was gravelly as the little nickname for his little girl as he locked eyes with his princess

He shuffled his feet over the wooden floors as he walked around the couch where you laid fast asleep, half a blanket draped over your legs as your son laid on your chest, fast asleep with his cheek squished to your collar

“Hm, lucky,” he thought to himself, envying his little son as he knelt down, nuzzling the back of his index finger to the infant’s cheek

You slept peacefully, body and face completely relaxed in the couch cushions, one of your hands draped lightly over the little boy’s back

But before Atsumu could continue giving any more admiration, his finger was suddenly latched by his little girl as she babbled, whining for not having her fair share of attention from her beloved dad

“Shh, I got ya,” he smirked as he plucked her, from her spot not he couch as she wore her little onesie, holding her beneath her bottom, over his sides

She continued her little babbles as she looked up to him with wondrous eyes yet he looked at her with the stars in his eyes as all he could see was her as he held her

“It’s sleepy time, princess,” his voice was even softer as he brushed his hand over her soft, silky hair

He knelt down as she let out a small yawn, resting her head on his shoulder

“Mama,” he rest his hand on your arm, his skin rough meeting yours

He gave you a light squeeze, shaking your arm, rubbing his thumb repeatedly. “Mama,” he called, his voice the slightest bit louder but careful to not wake your son

You took a deep breath in as your eyes cracked open, your eyes burning now that they were open when they should’ve been closed

“Welcome home,” you whispered as you carefully sat yourself up, Atsumu’s hand on your back, helping you up

“Let’s head upstairs and sleep,” he stood, bending down to kiss the crown of your head as you repositioned your hold on your son

The two of you switched off the lights, making your way up the dark stairwell as you tiredly walked up the stairs, anticipating the feel of the bed sinking beneath your weights with Atsumu by your side

You each held a twin as he walked behind, holding his daughter as the warmth transferring from his body into hers began to lull her to sleep The two of you brought them into their rooms, setting them in their cribs on the opposite sides of the room, tucking them in

You leaned on the edge of your son’s crib as memories from the day they were born, from the day the two of you brought them home flooded your mind until a pair of hands snaking around your waist pulled your attention back to the present

“Bedtime for us too,” Atsumu’s voice was velvety in your ear, his chest rumbled against your back as he spoke

He led you by the hand, the door closing behind, his hold never leaving you and it never did the entire night

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @makeusfreefromthisfandom @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing @plantisnotplant @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan @turquoiselace @macaronnv @oxmaddy @mrkoala4prsdnt @curiouslilbeast @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya @wisepandaslimeland @killuaking @kattykurr @bbymilkbread @tsumtsumland @suunikimchi @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @amandahh626 @nabisonyeo94 @wntrmn @dai-tsukki-desu @peteunderoos @ohyoumakemelive @aka-a-shii @shinhiromi @wompwomphq @lollypop-lam @isentsworld @blue-melody @u-wakatoshii @moondriplets @lovinnoya @yuueisteria @humanitysbiggestsimp @cjphoenix135 @inarizaki-captain @closetfurrytsukishima @chibichab @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kuroosbixh @lavearchives @sweet-sour-devil-ish @daichis-kitty @creepyproxies @itsmarziapei @skyh20 @yehetstudies @that-chick212 @proherotheflamehashira @celestair @katiea03

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hotaru987-the-2nd · 3 years

Text

One more time

Meguru Bachira x f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: fluff, nsfw suggestive, implied daddy kink, are you looking for a writing blog? *in Sandy’s voice* We’ll look again

Hey @4kh! Here’s another one for ya!

If your interested the trick Y/N was doing was the one in this video at 2:16

DNI if a minor please! You will be insta blocked if you don’t have ages in bio! Or some indication you aren’t a minor.

Sweat rolled down your face and body in buckets, burning your eyes every time you happened to catch a stray drop with a blink. Your mouth parted with heavy pants, body bent over half way, hands on your knees as you looked up at the unrelenting devil that stood in front of you with the most angelic smile.

Seeing was almost enough to get you to push pass the screaming of your muscles, and the heat that settled on the surface of your skin, making you look flushed. Almost.

“Come on, babe! You’re almost there!” Bachira’s bright voice echoed on the soccer pitch, his eyes glittering brightly at you. Not even hiding the way he ogled the way your sweat ran down the curve of your breast and into your cleavage. You wore a sports bra and a white T, with a pair of black shorts. You rolled your eyes but didn’t comment, too tired to.

“Bachi, I can’t! My legs just don’t work like yours. You’re like a damn octopus! I’m just a normal human.”

He giggled, juggling the soccer ball a bit before doing some dribbles and circling around you. “Yeah you can. I know you can. You did soccer before.”

“Sure in middle school and a bit in high school. But it was just club…nothing serious. Not like you….I’m not good anymore.”

Your voice tapered off when he stopped dribbling right in front of you, bending at the waist so we were eye level. Large grin still present. “That’s just ‘cause you let the monster inside of ya sleep for too long. But I can see it when you watch me play. I feel the monster trying to peak out saying ‘let me out!’” Bachira’s excitement seemed to grow, “Beside if ya look stupid and face plant I’m the only one lookin, babe.”

You dead panned and stood up straight, forcing him to break line of sight with your chest that he hadn’t looked away from ONCE. All while smacking his head, “Yeah at my boobs, pervert.”

He shrugged with another chuckle, “You got nice tits. But you know, they look even better in my mou—“

“Bachi!” He laughed spinning out of the way of your hand that looked to connect with his shoulder. Now behind you he wrapped his arms around you, turning your head so you were looking at him. But you were still angry, well not really, but you still pouted.

“One more try, baby. And if you can’t then we can call it and go home. I’ll even buy you that ice cream you like.”

You thought for a while, sinking into his warm embrace, “I want 2 scoops with extra sprinkles.”

“Done! Just promise that you’ll give it your all.”

Meeting his eyes always felt like you were staring right into the sun. They were always so bright, with unwavering strength, hunger warmth and excitement. And those feelings that Bachira seemed to embody to his core would always find its way into your body as well. Pushing you to always reach for your limits and evolving. To search for that monster and never let that hunger to improve die off no matter what it was.

The sheer confidence he had in your own abilities, seemed to match the confidence he had in his own self. And looking into those eye that believed in you more than you did yourself, had you second guessing. Maybe you could do it. If Bachira believed in you then…

You basked in the glow of your own personal sun, finding your courage in it. You nodded, “Ok, one more.”

“Sweet! Let’s go!”

He pulled you back over to where the penalty box started, his back to the goal and you facing him.

For as much as you complained you always enjoyed coming out here at Bachira’s whims. Anything to spend time with him and you did enjoy playing soccer but only as a pastime. You would say you’re a little above average even with your years of inactivity. The fundamentals never leaving you, engraved into your body as muscle memory. Still your mediocre skill surely wasn’t anywhere near the level of being good practice for Bachira, who for some reason always insisted that you two come together so he could get some practice in. Half the time he was giving you pointers or taking it easy on you if you two did a 1-on-1. The only time it looked like he was really getting his time worth was when he practiced alone.

You tapped the ball at your feet, playing with it to get the feel of it under your feet. ‘Ok, just a quick 1, 2, 3 then kick through the opening. I just need to get the timing.’

Deep breath. And Go!

He may have been going easy on you, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t giving you a challenge. No matter where you dribbled to he was already there blocking you. You couldn’t get the set up right. And the few times you thought you had it, Bachira was close to stealing the ball.

Not that you weren’t trying before but you wanted to prove to yourself you could do it. And show Bachira that his confidence in you wasn’t unfounded. But you were growing frustrated, and that made you both stiff in movements and impatient.

“Calm down, deep breaths now.”

You looked up and saw patience and kindness in his eyes. His smile more subdued than the crazy, bounce off the walls one you were used to. The one he used when he knew he could get your heart fluttering and melting to his every wish.

He stepped a bit closer, making you twitch as he traced across your waist and down your thighs, “Relax your hips and your legs. You're too tense. One more thing,” He pouted, cupping your face to make you look up, “look at me too. I don’t like it when you aren’t paying attention to me.”

You almost snorted, most of your earlier frustrations blown away by him. Something he was always able to do no matter the situation. “Don’t tell me your jealous of the ball? I gotta keep my eye on it too you know.”

“I know, I know. Was just feeling a bit lonely I couldn’t see your pretty eyes.” You blushed.

“One more?”

“……yeah, one more.”

Taking his advice you relaxed, the lingering feeling of his fingers helping you. And his more selfish request you looked at him more closely than before……wait…he did that move before. He’s repeating himself……It’s a pattern!

You continued to dribble around him, getting used to his pattern and then—

‘1, 2, 3 threw the legs!’

And when you looked up again your area was clear with the goal right in front of you, and you easily kicked it in. You could hardly believe it…you did it….you did it!!

“Bachi I-woah!?!”

“Babe, ya did it!! That’s my girl! I knew you could!” He rushed up lifting you by the waist and spinning you around with the biggest smile on his face. You would’ve thought he just won gold at the Olympics with how excited he was. “You were so cool! Ah you shoulda see the look in your eyes! It was the best, like it gave me the shivers! You got me pumped up now!”

You were embarrassed from the praise but the adrenaline still pumping through you was stronger. Throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him, not really thinking about how this would squish his face into your breast.

“It’s all thanks to you! I didn’t think I could but you said I could and so I just went for it and, ya know. Your advice helped too! I could see how you were moving and…-ah! Meguru Bachira!”

“Yeouch!!”

You smacked his head, “That’s what you get for biting me!” You pushed away from him, making him put you down and looked down at the bite mark now on the swell of your breast. With a huff you turned to gather your things to leave.

“Babe!…Babe! Don’t be mad. How can you blame me when you’re just smushin’em in my face like that?” He hastily picked up the ball and his things before running after you. Throwing an arm around your shoulder when he caught up.

“I was feeling all happy and you had to go and ruin the mood.”

“Aww, don’t pout. How about I make it up to you when we get home?” His voice dropped a bit into a more sultry tone, one that you recognized when a different type of monster came out to play. The finger hanging off your shoulder poking at the fresh bite mark. “Worked so hard today. I don’t think ice cream is enough of a reward. Gotta show my girl how proud I am she didn’t give up.”

You shifted a little closer, looking coyly up at him threw your lashes, “Yeah? Did I go that good, daddy?”

“Hmhm, real good.”

That half lidded, lusty gaze washed your body with a completely different kind of heat. One that had your thighs squeezing and core aching. You whimpered softly when he lightly danced his fingers around the base of your neck, and growing giddy with anticipation with how he was practically fucking you with his eyes.

“You know……I think we have left over ice cream in the freezer at home.”

#blue lock smut #Meguru Bachira x reader

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alluringjae · 3 years

Text

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

779 notes · View notes

lavishedinjimin · 4 years

Text

all the good girls go to hell

— synopsis: The Angels made a deal with Jeon Jungkook, the son of Lucifer, to help them bring Y/n back to her good, prim and proper self. Even though Jungkook grants the atrocious plan, he leaves a lesson that no one should give their trust to a wicked devil like him.

↳ pairing: jungkook x f. reader

↳ genre: smut, very slight angst if you squint hard enough

↳ rating: m/18+

↳ word count: 10k

↳ warnings: religious themes, heaven and hell, angels, devils (this fic is not a correct representation of these figures and is purely fictional), alcohol intake, cursing, hard dom jk, daddy! jk, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, squirting, unprotected sex, breathplay, spanking, face fucking, filthy dirty talk, rough sex, jungkook and his demon cock ehe

a/n: title is inspired by billie eilish’s song all the good girls go to hell. her title inspired me to write this fic! please ignore if you find any errors <3

“You’re not good enough.”

“You look so pathetic, really.”

“Can you at least try to look hot?”

“This is why no one likes you.”

These words will forever haunt you until the day you die.

It wasn’t your fault that you were raised very strictly, your overly-protective parents treating you like some kind of rare treasure that no one, no man, can touch. The fact that your parents still had to drive you home from school even at an age like this always irritated you to the brim of your existence. So now you can’t even have the freedom, the life of a normal young girl can have.

Being raised strictly with a heavy-handed family – not to mention religious, too – has taken a toll on your mental health. There’s always the feeling of pressure wherever you go and whatever you do. The fear of not succeeding and disappointing your mom and dad is the worst feeling, like the Devil punching your gut repeatedly, as many times as he likes.

Plus, some students at your school know you for your lack of “personality”, the boring one, the killjoy. You can’t even refute because it was all true. You never experienced fun, parties, how to have interesting conversations, how to interact with a large crowd, all because of your parents being so uptight in you.

“Y/n!” The high-pitched voice of your mother calls from downstairs, and you were quick to scurry outside your room and find where she was sitting on the couch. “Yes, mom?” You say.

She was dressed in a royal-blue dress that goes up to her knees, her hair fixed perfectly and the hairspray is clearly doing a great job of keeping her updo in place. She grabs her purse while your dad walks into view, dressed up in a neat suit. “We’re leaving for our business trip, Y/n. Didn’t I tell you that?”

“Ah.” You sort of forgot about that.

Quickly nodding your head, you force a fake smile that you know all too well, “Yes.”

She gives you a weird glance before she fixes her makeup in a mirror, and your dad decides to continue for her. “We’ve hired a nanny to look after you, so that you won’t go out and about going behind our backs—”

“But dad! I really don’t need someone to babysit me,” You scoff. You weren’t a child anymore, what are they thinking! “I’m an adult. I can handle myself. Don’t you trust me?”

Trust. Something they don’t have with you, whether they admit it or not.

Your dad just sighs deeply and starts to walk closer to you. He places a hand on your shoulder as he looks straight into your eyes, giving you an authoritarian look. “Y/n, just do as you’re told and be a good daughter.”

“I’ve always been one,” you scorn.

“A good daughter doesn’t talk back.” Your mother retorts.

This is why you can never argue with them. They never let you speak your own opinion or have your own voice.

Your parents left exactly at 5 PM as they went on their flight to Madrid, leaving the house all to yourself only for tonight.

It was the next day, and you were sitting on the dining table, eating your cereal peacefully as you watched Netflix on your phone – until the doorbell rings.

You stand up and quickly make your way to the front door, pouting when you already know that it is the person that was supposed to look after you.

This is ridiculous.

“Hello!” A bright, short middle aged woman appears standing on the doorway, her bright energy startling you. “Y/n! I’m May, nice to meet you!” She lifts her hand in front for a handshake, and you chuckle nervously, accepting it. “I’m here to look after you for ten days, hm?”

“Uh, ah, yeah. C-Come in!” You tried to sound as positive and energized as you could to match her own energy, but you couldn’t. You step aside to let her in, pulling her luggage with her and she immediately takes up the design of the house. She was nodding her head, her arms crossed together while you accompanied her little journeys throughout the whole ground floor. You found her weird.

“Uh, come follow me, my dad says you’ll be staying here at the guest room —”

“Wonderful! I thought I was sleeping on the couch!” She claps her hands, excited that she has her own room.

You look at her with big, shocked eyes, yet you can’t say anything.

“O-Okay…” you mumbled, “Here,” you helped her open the door and she immediately set her things up. “May?”

“Yes, my dear?” She stops unpacking her bags to look up at you. “I’ll be at the kitchen, okay? If y-you wanna ask anything, I’m right over there.”

“Ah, that’s okay, Y/n. Your mother told me everything I need to know. Your bedtime is at eight and no midnight snacks!”

Your heart drops down to the floor as you immediately encountered a wave of emotions. Why did it matter?! Why did your mom had to apply all these stupid rules when she’s not even around? You thought at the start that you’ll have some kind of freedom when your parents aren’t here, thinking that your nanny might be easier, but perhaps not.

“Okay.” You say simply.

How else can you prove to people that you can be better? You're sick of everyone seeing you as the boring one, but your parents were the only thing that was keeping you from having fun. So you decide to be a little risky.

Step one: Sneak out the house.

Isn't that what people your age do? Usually they sneak out to party, to go hang out with their friends and have the time of their life. But you had none, no ‘best friend’, but a couple of lunch friends here and there.

“I should try clubbing.” You mumble to yourself as you sit down on the plush comfort of your mattress. Until you hear your phone chimes, signalling a text. You grab your phone from the bedside table and frown when you see who the text was from.

Mom: Remember to go to church later, Y/n.

You didn't reply, instead, it got you thinking.

Nothing will happen if you skip church, right? You've always attended Mass every Sunday with your parents, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with skipping at least once.

Besides, you need to plot your plans for tonight!

“What is this girl doing?” Armaros says in a deep whisper, his well-shaped eyebrows furrowing deeply while he watches Y/n on her phone, laying down on her bed as if church isn't just five minutes away from starting.

Armaros rushes to the other side of the room to get a better view of her human who lays on her stomach, a white wisp of smoke trailing behind him. He shakes his head, crossing his arms together in front of his chest. “Y/n, Y/n,” he tuts, “What are you doing?!”

He decides to step forward and reaches forward for his hand to caress the crown of your head. He chuckles when he sees your eyes expand in a quick second, your body abruptly sitting up straight from the tingling feeling in your neck. Your hairs stand up, a chill running down your spine.

This was Armaros’ way of mustering his presence onto you. Your dad always taught that whenever you suddenly feel a chilling sensation out of nowhere, it means that your guardian angel is there with you and trying to send you a message.

And you clearly know what he's trying to say.

There was a slight feeling of guilt – uneasiness, even. But no. You've already decided that you weren't going to follow your old routine.

Armaros’ jaw drops when you don't move from your position on the bed, only making yourself comfortable even further. ”Don’t you dare skip church...” he slowly whispers to himself. But he quickly shakes his head side to side, trying to be optimistic, “It's just one time. Just one time.”

Time passes by faster than you think, you sink your teeth down on your bottom lip, chewing on it as you try to Google clubs near you. It was ridiculous, feeling so overwhelmed from all of the options the Internet is showing you.

There was a generous list of bars and clubs with different ratings. It was a humane decision to choose the best one, right? So you went for a nightclub called ‘Soap Seoul’. Although, you feel your stomach churn when you scroll through the images attached to it; seeing all of the strange blue and red LED lights, big and tight crowds, and an HD picture of their bar. The bar was long and almost occupied the width of the whole club. You don't even know if you can stand such a place like that.

But no. You can't back out now! You had to show yourself and to others that you can have some fun too.

The club opens tonight at 8 pm, letting yourself have two hours to prepare. Rummaging through your garments of clothing, you try to find an appropriate outfit.

“I have nothing!” you whined, eyebrows furrowing in dismay. All you had were simple t-shirts and countless skinny jeans and leggings. Your dresses were almost knee-length and suitable for church – not for a nightclub!

Armaros stands at a distance, shaking his head at you.

Until, you heard a loud knock on the door, “Y/n!” May's voice shouts from the other side of the room, “Dinner's ready!”

Oh no.

Quickly opening the door, you stared at her with big, worried eyes. “May! I-uhh, I-I’m not gonna stay for dinner…” you mumbled, looking at the ground.

“Oh, why is that?” she asks, a faint sad tone in her voice. You felt so sad and regretful that you didn't say anything to her because she already cooked your dinner.

“I-I have plans for tonight,” you hold your hands behind your back, slightly getting embarrassed.

“Are you going out with your friends?”

“Y-Yeah!” You lie. You've never lied before.

“Ah, I understand. Have you told your mom?”

She doesn't have to know.

“Yup.”

And there it was again, the chills in your neck appeared while your arm and leg hairs stood up. Armaros touches your scalp, desperate to seek your attention and bring you back to your old, good self. The angel didn't like that you were lying, for he was perpetually accustomed to your good deeds. It was making him anxious for what's about to come.

But you ignored his message. May nods when you told her that she can have the food to herself.

You feel a pang of guilt rush through your body when you shut the door behind you, your heartbeat suddenly racing faster. The nervousness in you made your head hurt. Is this the right thing to do? No. It wasn't. But you had to show people that you can be different. Will it be worth it? Of course.

Thankfully, you spot a white dress that you've never worn before. It was a gift from your cousins that was supposed to be another addition to your collection of church dresses but it was too short for your liking.

“Hm, maybe this will work…” you quietly mumble to yourself.

You tried the piece of clothing on, carefully examining your reflection in the full-length mirror. The hem of the skirt falls right above your mid-thigh, too high for your usual comfort but for the sake of dressing up for a nightclub — there was no problem. The dress was snug, hugging your body so that it accentuates your curves.

The dress was plain white and was relatively simple. You don't really know what people usually wear for nightclubs but you were certain that dresses were a part of the code.

You looked for your black three-inch heel that you last wore during your highschool graduation, slipping it in carefully. Doing a little bit of makeup and applying a thin layer of lip gloss, you grabbed a purse and walked out of your room.

“May, please don't wait for me, okay?” you say after walking past her.

“W-Wait, I'm supposed to–”

“It's okay. I'll be okay.”

“She's not gonna be okay!” Armaros declares, kneeling on one knee before Archangel Michael – the protector and the spiritual warrior, as he mentions Y/n's recent mischiefs.

After you've been to the nightclub the first day, you've never stopped. You became addicted.

Sometimes you don't even tell May that you're going out, you just sneak out of the window and let May worry about you. You've happened to know how to drink as you get wasted every single night, hanging around with people that you don't know, people that are a bad influence on your good side. These past few days had you acting up like you’ve never before. You longed for alcohol and the feeling of it numbing your nerves, and there’s not a day where you didn’t get drunk.

Armaros’ power wasn't enough to stop you. Every single day he's been drying his best to send signals, to make you feel certain ways and speak to your consciousness that what you are doing is by far dangerous and wrong. But you never listened.

You've skipped church, stopped talking to God, ignoring your parents’ phone calls, not doing your homework just because you're busy either getting drunk or making out with someone at the club. It's like you have been addicted to misbehaving.

But for you, you thought you’re doing the right thing.

“Armaros, are you doubting your powers?” Archangel Michael replies, running his fingertips along the sharp blade of his sword.

“N-No, but, nothing seems to work. She's been ignoring my calls for almost two weeks. I just want the best for her.” Armaros’ voice fades at the end of his sentence. He was speaking with such sincerity because he really cares for Y/n. He truly loves her. “Why is she doing this?” He asks for help.

“Because, my dear, she's trying to prove something she's not for other people.”

“What?”

Archangel Michael laughs quietly, staring at him endearingly. He points his sword at him, “She obviously tries to be immoral to fit in. She's rarely praying to God like she used to, rarely respecting the people around her. Ever since humans bullied Y/n for being herself – she starts to change. But the question is…”

He walks around Armaros, his eyes never leaving his. “Is this making her happy?”

Armaros lowers his head and shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

The Archangel grins and returns his sword back on the scabbard attached to his belt.

“If I can't warn her to stop, then who else can?” The angel asks.

Michael lifts an eyebrow up, crossing his arms together as he stands right in front of him. His mouth draws into a slow smirk, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as if a lightbulb appeared on top of his head.

“You wanna have some fun, Armaros?”

“What do you mean?”

“Stand up, stand up.” Armaros quickly obeys his superior’s command. The Archangel places a hand on his right shoulder, preparing to speak.

“I have an idea. We call Jeon Jungkook up and–”

“No! Absolutely not! I will not allow Y/n to come face to face with the son of Lucifer!” Armaros bellows, instinctively pushes Michael's hand away from him.

“Armaros! It's just an idea!” Michael chuckles, spreading his arms to the side as he shakes his head. “And besides, I have to ask permission from our Highness anyway.”

“And what will he do? Taunt her? Provoke Y/n to be more sinful?” Y/n's guardian angel asks, referring to Jungkook. “We both know how manipulative and cunning he can be!”

“No, no. We'll make a deal with him, of course! No devil will do anything without receiving something in return.”

“This idea of yours, not to be rude, but is really out of this world.”

Archangel Michael snorts from the out of the blue pun.

“Do not be afraid. If our Lord agrees to our plan, I'll be watching. I always will. Give me your trust, Armaros.”

Armaros sighs deeply, yet smiles up at him right after. “Okay, I trust you.”

“May, stop it,” you mutter angrily, pulling your arm away from her hold. May tries to block your way from going outside the house but you abruptly push her to the side.

“Y/n! Your mom told you that–”

“Told me what?! That I’m being independent? Unruly? That I should just stay home? I don’t give a fuck anymore, May. I’d rather hang out with friends than stay here and do nothing!” You bark at her. She was smaller than you and you were definitely giving off that intimidating vibes that you wanted to show. She isn’t the one wearing the pants in this house. You are.

“Y/n, I will not tolerate this behavior!” May snaps, eyes glaring at you with her hands balled up into fists on her sides.

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sour chuckle, “You sound like my mom.”

May sighs deeply, the tiredness in her voice evident, “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Y/n. Just listen to me.”

“I’m an adult. I can keep myself safe. Now, let me go and don’t wait for me.”

“Y/n!”

“Bye May! Have a nice sleep!”

“Y/n! Where the fuck are you?!” Emilia, one of the new friends you've met no longer than three days ago shouts through the phone as loud, blazing music muffled her voice. “Sophia and I are waiting for you! Get your ass over here!”

“I'm almost there, save me a drink already!” you giggle, looking out from the taxi’s window.

Sophia snatches the phone out of Emilia’s hand to speak to you, “Y/n, you still remember the bet we made, right?”

“Of course! It's not a huge deal, c'mon now.” You roll your eyes, faking a laugh.

“We'll see!” Emilia giggles.

The driver drops you in front of the nightclub and you throw him a couple of dollars. Stepping out of the car, your high heels clicking on the cement. Upon entering the place, you were immediately greeted with your friends. They were both wearing a tight dress – glittery red and silver – whilst you wore a black one that reached down to your middle thigh. You bought the dress only a day ago, special thanks to your Amazon Prime account .

“Hey! Here, drink this,” Sophia hands you a single malt whiskey and you swiftly drown it down your throat without any problem. You reminisce back to your first day where you can’t even take a sip of beer without gagging. Now look where you are.

“Ahh fuck, that tastes good,” you mumble through gritted teeth.

“Why are you late tonight, Y/n?” Emilia asks as she leads you to the bar to order more alcohol. Her high pitched voice mixing with the loud music,”You know it's always 9 PM. Sharp.”

You breathe out heavily as you watch Sophia pour three shots of straight vodka into a shot glass. She distributes the beverage to the two of you.

“Well, uh–”

“What?” Emilia snaps.

“I couldn't find a goddamn cab, that's why!” you hide your falseness with laughter, hoping they won't sense your lie.

“Alright anyway, let’s go get wasted and you, Y/n – will be our first player.” Emilia smirks as she crosses her arms together. She analyzes your body, eyeing you up and down. You didn’t like it, and you felt worried.

Your eyebrows furrow, confused and slightly offended, “What, why me?” You take a sip of your newly-ordered beer, trying to get comfortable on the plush-covered stool.

“Because,” Sophia answers for her, “we need to know your… capacities.”

You snort, “Capacities of what? My capacity of having to get into a m-man’s bed? Pffft… easy!”

Sophia’s forehead furrows, glancing at Emilia with a knowing look before focusing her attention back to you. “Sure. Anyway, let’s have fun first and then…” she leans closer to you, her face inches away from yours. You feel your face redden in embarrassment, “And then you can choose your man.”

It wasn’t that bad. It isn’t bad dancing around the dance floor, beer in hand, as you danced all your worries away. Emilia and Sophia were out there – somewhere, but you didn’t care about them at this moment. You let your body go with the beat of the loud EDM music, holding your hands up in the air as you whipped your head left to right. You had a huge smile on your face, the alcohol kicking in like it was meant for your body to consume.

Sweaty bodies were bumping each other from left and right, and you for sure stepped on someone’s toe with your pumps. Nevertheless, you didn’t care. You were having your fun.

It was until the song changed from upbeat to a more sensual, heart-pumping song from the loud bass. As if there was a switch inside you, you turned into a sultry mess.

Wasted. You were wasted like hell.

Your eyes turn into little slits as you look around the dance floor to try and find someone to play with. Taking a huge sip of your drink, your throat burns yet you tried to ignore it.

“Ah-hah!” you giggle, walking – or should we say, stumbling – towards a guy with black hair parted in the middle, nicely dressed in a black button up tucked in some skinny jeans. The man locks eyes with you, licking his plump lips as his eyes rake your body.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he smirks, making you blush in red as he holds your waist and tugs you closer to him. The song in the background was helping you a lot to get into that seductive, sexy mood that you planned to have.

“Hey,” you smile up at him, “I’m Y/n.”

“What a pretty name for a pretty lady.” He starts swaying your body to the beat, going along with you. “I’m Seokjin. Nice to meet you.”

Seokjin tugs your body closer until he holds the back of your head with one hand, making you look deep into his dark eyes. “Y-You’re a new face,” you slur, “You don’t belong here.”

Unexpectedly, your eyes grow big when Seokjin throws his head back as he laughs almost hysterically. “What?” you question.

The man slightly leans down until his face draws near to yours, and you can immediately smell the alcohol in his breath. You didn’t judge though, you probably had beer-breath too.

“Baby girl…” Seokjin suddenly speaks deeply, making your heart jump from the sudden change in his voice. There was a sultry look in his eyes that made it hard for you to keep eye contact. “Baby it’s you who doesn’t seem to belong. You don’t know who I am.”

“Well y-you don’t know me e-either!” You try to retaliate, although it was messed up with your embarrassing stuttering.

“You really wanna know?” he whispers, his lips right against your lips, almost touching yours. You couldn’t breathe properly, wanting to pull away but his intoxicating scent was forcing you to him.

You nod your head, not trusting your voice.

“I own this place, baby.”

You almost tossed your cup right across the room from his sudden confession, totally not expecting such a young-looking man to own such a place like this. Your eyes expand, body staying still.

’Wait! Be sexy… be sexy…’ you thought to yourself after an awkward five seconds of silence.

You decide to chuckle, biting your bottom lip slowly as you draw yourself nearer to him. He lifts a brow up in surprise, wrapping his arms around your hips and he closes the distance between the two of you.

“Really? Well then,” you mutter, “I want you to own me too.”

“Oh, finally. Someone straightforward.”

“Well I – oh!” Seokjin takes you by surprise when he quickly tugs your arm and leads you to the second floor of the club. You haven’t been in this area before, looking so luxurious and well decorated. Although what shocks you is the series of doors that passes through a long, wide hallway.

“Seok...Seokjin,” you whisper, but he looks at you with a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes.

“C’mon baby,” he opens a door and walks you inside, locking it behind him. “Let’s have a little fun.”

Let’s have a little fun.

Yeah.��I should.

This is fun, right?

Before you can even process things, Seokjin shoves your body to a wall as his hands start to wander down your sides. With flushed cheeks, you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost but he clearly doesn’t mind, grinding his hips into yours.

“Mmm, what a cute babe I have in front of me,” he groans, leaning forward to pepper wet, gentle kisses all over your neck and down to your shoulders.

Something feels off.

“Y/n, right?” he asks, his forehead furrows and you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart starts to rapidly pump inside your chest, feeling as if it’ll burst at any minute. An uncomfortable feeling starts to overwhelm your system, sensing your palms getting sweaty. You can’t look at his eyes, looking anywhere but him.

“Uh, o-okay,” you straighten your back as you try your best to look confident.

This is the perfect opportunity to tell your friends. Having sex with someone like him will absolutely impress Emilia and Sophia.

Seokjin chuckles, shrugging, “Alright then.” And without any warning, he throws you on the bed and he quickly hovers above your body.

“Mmph–!” he immediately presses his lips into yours before you can even react to everything that had just happened. He caresses your cheeks with both hands, his lips moving softly with yours. You try your best to keep up with him and his pace, but you can’t. There was something stopping you from giving him your all. Seokjin grunts nevertheless, humping you.

Seokjin’s right hand snakes down to grab the hem of your dress as he teasingly pulls the fabric up, then lets it snap back down. There was a weird feeling inside your stomach, and it did not feel good at all.

His hand slowly starts creeping up your leg, and that’s where you couldn’t hold it back.

“Mmm, n-no,” you mewl, pushing him away from you. Seokjin stares down at you with a frown, head tilted to the side.

“Y/n?”

Rapid heart rate, the back of your neck sweating, and chills all over your body occur all at the same time. You were panicking.

“I-I…” immediately you stand up from the bed, hiking your stupid short dress down as much as you can. “S-Sorry,” furiously shaking your head from side to side, you stumble your way to the door.

“Y/n, wait!” Seokjin yells, confused yet he felt sorry at the same time. “Let’s talk about it!”

“No,” you whisper. You can’t do this anymore. There was no energy left in your body to talk, to process what just happened, to stand in this fucking club. Home. All you were thinking about was going home.

You twist the doorknob open, trying to catch your breath as much as you can but you feel like you were going to pass out any minute. Making your way down the stairs, you run as fast as you can towards the exit of the nightclub yet a person catches your arm.

“Y/n!” Your eyes widen when Emilia and Sophia stop you, observing your state. “What’s wrong with you?”

“No…” you breathe tirelessly, “c-can’t do it…”

“You failed?” Emilia snaps as she leans her body on one hip, resting her hands there. She looks at you with disgust, “But we saw the guy that you’re with! He was hot!”

Sophia snorts, smirking as she stares at you sourly, “Proves our point. You’re nothing, Y/n. You had such an easy job, the guy’s already all over you and you just had to throw him? Where is he, let me get with him myself.” Sophia struts away, heels clicking as she flips her long hair over her shoulder, leaving you with Emilia.

“What can I say, Y/n,” she smiles menacingly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “You can never be like us.”

Your whole body felt heavy, heavy like you were carrying a boulder behind your back. This isn’t what you had planned at all, everything was going so well until this! Your eyes started welling up with tears, blurring your sight. You had to go.

Without saying a word, you quickly run away to the exit, ignoring Emilia’s insensitive laugh.

What went wrong? Why did you feel that way? Negative thoughts were clouding your mind as you cried and cried to your poor, soaked pillow.

Maybe you are just not enough. Perhaps you’re not meant to be like this.

It was fun the first time around, and you were actually enjoying yourself. But the days passed and you sadly weren't doing this for your own pleasure anymore, but for the validation of other people.

You should’ve stopped Seokjin from touching you when it clearly made you uncomfortable. There was a line and he crossed it, but you erased that line so you can finally say that you’ve slept with someone. But you guessed it wasn’t that easy.

Grabbing your phone, you ignored all of the rude messages Emilia has sent you, blocking her and Sophia’s number. You turned off your phone, throwing it somewhere on the ground without care before you switched off your lamp. There was never a time that you’ve cried yourself to sleep, but tonight was your first.

“And what do I get in return for this deal?” Jeon Jungkook purrs with a low, dark tone, crossing his legs together as he sits on his father’s fire-blazing throne. Even though he has his own throne for himself, thrones on fire were way cooler. He scans the frightened angel from head to toe through the strands that fell in front of his eyes.

“The A-Archangel says you will obtain a soul. A soul that is longing for hell.” Armaros stutters as he tries to keep eye contact with the devil’s hard glare.

Jungkook chuckles, hanging his head low. “You mean to tell me…” he starts to stand up and walks towards the angel. Armaros tries his best to keep his guard up and stand as tall as possible.

Jungkook circles around him, arms crossed while his right hand plays with his bottom lip, “That I should convince this little girl to prevent doing bad, bad things to stop her from going to hell?” He laughs hysterically. “That’s quite… an unnatural job for a devil, isn’t it? It’s completely the opposite of what i’m supposed to do. Tell Michael that his plan is utter bullshit.”

Armaros takes a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a brief second before replying. “Firstly, Y/n is not a little girl. And second, this job is easy. You have the skill to persuade humans to sin – what’s hard with doing the opposite? Besides, you’ll obtain a soul either way.”

His words made Jungkook ponder and deliberate with himself. He stops in front of Armaros and shows him his signature imposing smile. “I can have my way with the girl, right?” He bites his lip, “Anyway I want?”

This made Armaros’ eyes go wide, mouth opening but no words seem to come out properly, “I-I… w-well, um… yes? Yes? P-Perhaps? Just don’t do anything bad to her.”

Jungkook scoffs, running his long tongue over his teeth as he smirks, “Define bad, Mr. Angel.”

“You know… hurt her.” He gulps.

The devil squints his eyes, absolutely loving Armaros’ reactions. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill her, if that’s what you mean.”

“I’m done with this conversation.” Armaros quickly chirps as he unfolds his large, white wings. “Remember what your main goal is, Jungkook. I’m counting on you.”

Jungkook stops him before he flies back up. “Armaros…” he says, dragging his name long in his tongue. Armaros looks at him, eyes impatient, arms crossed together.

“You know I’m a devil, right?”

The angel chuckles, scoffing, “Oh, I know that alright.” He scorns, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Although the devil in front of him looks intimidating and his eyes are jet black, Armaros keeps his calm. “I’m only following orders. I didn’t agree with The Archangel in the first place.”

“Do you know what devils do to… humans?”

Armaros nods fully.

“And what I might do to… that precious little girl?” Jungkook growls deeply, walking closer to him. He tilts his head down, looking at him through his lashes, “There’s a huge chance that I might not control myself when I see her.”

“What do you mean?”

Suddenly, black smoke appears from Jungkook’s right hand, summoning something beside him. The smoke appears to subside and at once, Y/n’s appearance can be seen through the thin air. Jungkook rests his hips on one side, twirling his hand so that her image spins around.

“This is Y/n, right?” Jungkook studies your face, watching you read a book inside your room. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful before.”

“Jeon Jungkook!” Armaros bellows, his tone loud yet sprinkled with fear.

“I’m just saying, Angel. You can’t stop me from trying to do devilish things to her.” Jungkook smirks, prodding his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “You might have to reconsider this deal of yours if you don’t want me to have my way with that pretty little girl,” He taunts, already warning Armaros.

“Jungkook,” Armaros’ nerves seem to heat up, slowly getting irritated although he tries to calm himself. He looks down, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “There’s no point in doing that. You think she wants to have an affair with someone like you?”

The devil laughs loudly as he twirls his hand until your image disappears. This conversation further proves Jungkook’s argument that angels are actually dumber than they realize.

“If you want me to help you, I will have my way with her. My job, my rules. Understand?”

Armaros feels defeated, but he can’t say anything but nod and agree to him. He can’t fight him anyway. Jungkook dismisses him, and with that, the angel ascends back up to earth.

Jungkook can’t wait to have his fun.

Prancing around, making friends, getting to know each other – Jungkook doesn’t want to do that. Instead, he’s very straightforward, saying words that he probably shouldn’t, he likes to say what he thinks no matter how bad it’ll probably hurt.

That’s what he plans to do with you.

If he gets his point clear, make you frightened, scare the shit out of you, then the job would be complete.

Easy!

You were currently on your laptop, scrolling through your pinterest tabs until you hear loud and frantic knocks on your door. “Y/n!” May shrieks, her voice quivering. “Someone’s at the door!”

Oh no, you thought.

Immediately hopping out of bed, you went out to see who it was with May following behind you. You peak out through the windows and suddenly, you inhale sharply from the man that you see.

He was unfamiliar. Thankfully, it wasn’t Seokjin or Sophia nor Emilia, but rather tall, might you say handsome looking man waiting outside your doorstep. He was dressed in all black, his hair covering his eyes.

“Do you know him?” May asks quietly. You shake your head slowly, “N-No.”

“Y/n… I think you should just leave him.”

“May, I can handle it. You can go now.” You say softly to her.

“Are you sure—”

“Yes.” You spat a little harshly, blazing your eyes at her. May nods, sighing as she walks away to her room.

Gathering the courage to open the door, you took a deep inhale and exhale, calming your nerves.

Once you open the door, your eyes immediately fly to his dark ones. Your whole body suddenly shivers, the air around the place somewhat getting cold as if it was winter.

You can't take your eyes off of the man. You have never met him before but it felt like you've known him for too long. There was a strange aura surrounding the two of you that you can't explain.

“Hello.” He speaks first, giving you a sly smile.

His voice. You've never heard such a dark and menacing timbre before.

“Hi,” you gulp, “Who are you?”

“May I come in?” Jungkook snaps, ignoring your question. He doesn't want to waste any time, that's for sure.

You furrow your brows as you shake your head, “Answer my question first.” You blurt, blocking the entrance by placing your hands on either side of the doorway.

“Hm,” Jungkook slowly shows you a deadly smirk, eyeing your body up and down. “You really wanna know?”

What kind of a question is that?

You quickly got annoyed, looking at him with a scorn. “Obviously!”

Feisty, Jungkook thought.

“I'm the devil.”

There was a long pause, silence filling the air. This man is too handsome to be this dumb. You laugh hysterically, bending over as you hold your aching stomach. “A-Are you… oh my god… please tell me you're fucking joking!” you say with creased eyes.

Jungkook already expected this reaction, and he only rolls his eyes without you noticing.

“Mhm. You don't believe me?” he slowly pronounces his words, voice deep and sinister.

“Nah,” you shake your head, giggling.

“Aren't you religious?” Jungkook pushes you to the side without hesitation and enters, your eyes expanding slowly as his body suddenly comes in contact with yours. “Don't you believe in your God? You believe in angels, right?” He backs your body up and shuts the door loudly behind him.

You felt a series of chills erupt from your system, his gaze locked on yours. You wanted to look away from his intimidating gaze, but you can't, for some strange reason. “Huh, Y/n?”

You gasp. “Wait, h-how do you know my name!?”

Jungkook smirks at you, tilting his head to the side as he ignores your question again.

Your body seems to move by itself, like you can't control your own limbs. The air thickens around the two of you as you feel your body submit to the man in front of you.

Sighing, with a shaky voice you answer. “I do. I do believe in them.”

Although what shocks you is the way his eyes suddenly turn a bright shade of red. From deep black to red, his irises glow.

“What the fuck–” you quickly back away, body shivering in fear until your back hits a wall. You rub your eyes, trying to see if your mind was only playing tricks with you.

Jungkook grins and chuckles darkly, clicking his tongue. “Then…” he draws, walking closer to your frightened figure, “Can this convince you enough?”

“S-Stop… stop playing games with me!” you whimper, feeling your palms get sweaty. “Your eyes are red!”

“Hmm, I wonder why,” Jungkook snarls, forehead creasing, “Maybe because I'm the fucking devil?”

And in a flash, Jungkook’s appearance changes from a tall, handsome boy into a dark red figure. Black, bat-like wings sprout from his back, long horns appearing from his forehead, a spear-like tail behind him. His lips and the area around his eyes were tinted in black while his fingers grew longer, sharper.

You almost fainted then and there.

“Oh— p-please,” your eyes turn watery as tears start to fall down your cheek, lifting your hands up to your mouth in shock, “please d-don't kill me!” Shutting your eyes to avoid the frightening image in front of you, your knees drop down to the floor with a loud thud. “I'm sorry, please f-forgive me! Don't k-kill me! Please!”

“Oh, what a cute pretty girl you are,” the devil grins, his voice more gravelly now. He looks down at your frail self, amused. “I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to teach you a lesson.”

You start to sob as your body shakes, “No! Please d-don't…”

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yes! Yes I do!” you quickly reply, voice cracking. “I’m sorry s-sir, don’t hurt me!”

Jungkook, satisfied with your reaction, morphs back to his normal human look within a few seconds. “Look at me.”

Slowly, afraid to anger the devil in front of you, you obey his words. You sigh in relief when he finally looks normal again, but you can't look at him the same way.

“Stand up.”

You do so with wobbly legs. You felt so weak with your energy quickly drained so quickly. Wiping your tear-stained cheeks, you try your best to keep your composure.

“Anyway, I'm Jungkook,” he gives you an award-winning smile, “I'm sent here to supposedly warn you from doing bad things.” He cringes, shaking his head. “Which, honestly speaking, I think is atrocious.”

He scans your body, biting his lip right after. “A good looking girl like you should have her fun.”

You try to regain your senses back. A devil — a real devil appeared right in front of you. You can't seem to shake the thought away while he’s there looking so handsome in his human form.

With a shaky breath, you ask him, “J-Jungkook? I'm really sorry. I don't know what I'm doing.”

He snorts. Brushing his black hair away from his face. “Wrong. You know what you're doing.”

“W-What?”

Something in the air changes when Jungkook snaps his fingers. A thick, black smoke appears, capsuling the both of you in. “What is this?!” you question, terror overtaking your face. You watch your surroundings getting blurry, blackness covering the area.

“Oh nothing,” he gives you a lopsided grin, “just making sure that your little angels can't see us.”

Jungkook's eyes shine and his pupils enlarge, smiling as you notice how his teeth grow sharper. There were veins popping out in his neck, grimacing at you in pure excitement.

“We can't afford your poor, guardian angel to stop us now, can't we? I don't want him to see us…playing.”

“Playing?!” You gasp, eyes expanding in shock..

“Yes, baby. Angels are so fucking dumb, aren't they? Asking a devil to do their own work? Isn't that pathetic.”

You were locked to him like a magnet as your body seems to fill with utter desire in such a quick time.

Was he doing something to you?!

A series of pleasurable chills erupt from your body, mouth getting dry as you look up at Jungkook with big eyes.

His hand suddenly touches your bare arm, making you silently mewl from his chilling touch. He smirks at your reaction, “How dumb of them to trust the son of Lucifer himself.”

“Y-You… you're…” your voice fades, trying to process his words.

“Mhm. Aren't you excited to play with me?”

Maybe he's doing tricks to your mind, controlling your body – or maybe you’re just fucked up. Either way, you want him.

You lust for him.

“Yes.”

Jungkook draws his lower lip between his teeth, his hands finding its way to your waist, holding you firmly until he unexpectedly pulls you to his body. He lifts a single eyebrow up, “Really?”

Your heartbeat quickens.

“I've… I’ve never been more sure.” Words seem to spill out of your mouth without your consent, as if it wasn’t you who’s speaking. But you don’t try to take your words back.

Jungkook laughs and starts to lift you up without struggle, finding his way to your bedroom while the smoke follows the two of you. “Bad, bad girl you are.” He lowers you down on the mattress, sending you a seductive wink, “I'm so fucking proud.”

He preps himself on his knees, capturing your thighs in between. His eyes run down your body, chills running down your spine from how hot he looks. His figure was so big and muscular, making you feel like he can destroy your frail self.

“Look at this, you look so fucking delicious baby.”

His hand suddenly flies down to your armpits, roughly handling you as he carries you up as he sits down on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard, as he places you in between his legs.

You hold back a whimper as he pushes your body closer to him. Hearing him growl deeply made your cunt throb, feeling a strange wet feeling down there.

“Demons can't help humans,” he mutters lowly, his lips right against the shell of your ear. “They want you to sin and sin and sin until the day you fucking die.”

His hands play with your shirt until in a quick flash, he rips the cotton material in half, your body shivering as it has been exposed to the cold air. “Ohh,” you whimper, covering your body with your arms.

“Nu-uh,” Jungkook grins behind you, “Don't do that, baby.” He leans down and starts pressing wet and sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, running his mouth up to your neck. “Don't try to hide away from me.”

He sucks on the soft skin of your neck, his big dick throbbing in his pants from the way you were constantly squirming. You were so sensitive, and it made him so horny. He hums, marking your skin in bright red and purple bruises.

“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moan, throwing your head back until it rests right against his shoulder.

His hands suddenly fly to your breasts, his long and slender fingers pinching and twisting your hardened nipples. You bite your bottom lip as you can't seem to open your eyes from the feeling. It was until Jungkook suddenly digs his nails into your nipples, pinching them roughly that made you jolt right up.

“Oh, t-that hurts,” you cry, the stinging feeling of his sharp nails pinching your buds. Jungkook watches your face contort, digging his nails even harder. He feels your body twitch, hearing your gentle whines and mewls.

“Ohhh you don't like it baby, does it hurt too much for your sensitive, precious body?” he mocks a concerned tone. “Hm?”

He was playing games with you, that's for sure. You nod your head up and down, trying to push his hands away. “Mhm…”

Thankfully, he does stop but he quickly cups your breasts with both hands. He feels your rock-hard nipples pushing against his rough palms, kneading your boobs until he finally lets go.

“Take these off,” he instructs you to pull your shorts down, and you do so. With trembling hands, you swiftly tug them off of your legs.

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts behind you, his right hand lowering down from your stomach until it reaches the destination right against your clothed pussy. His fingers slowly trace down your slick, feeling how wet you are through your panties.

He smirks cockily, “You're fucking drenched, baby. Are you this horny?” he rubs your clit in slow, circular motions with just the right amount of pressure with the tips of his two fingers, your legs shivering. “Want something to stuff that little hole of yours?”

He pulls your underwear down to your thighs, and you instantly shake it off with your legs. Jungkook pushes your legs apart, forcing your knees up with your feet flat on the mattress. Your cunt flutters around air from the exposure. You whine when his left arm possessively wraps around your stomach, his biceps flexing when he holds you tightly.

“Stay fucking still,” he growls, his warm hand cupping your bare cunt. He chuckles, prodding his tongue against his cheek as he plays with your folds. He uses two slender fingers to spread your labia apart and you can feel your glistening arousal drip from your hole down to your ass.

Jungkook hums in satisfaction, spreading your lips wider, making you emit a moan. “Jungkook—”

“No. I want you to call me something…” he elongates the pause in his sentence to suddenly insert the tip of his middle finger in your pussy, causing you to jump. “Something else, baby.”

“Ah-ahh, what?” your legs couldn't stop trembling as he pushes his finger deeper, your walls sucking it in deliciously.

You can feel him smirk against the skin of your neck, he snickers, “Starts with the letter D.”

Your eyes squint in confusion, tilting your head up to look at him. Jungkook, with his glowing red eyes, scans your face with a quirked eyebrow expectantly.

“Devil?”

Jungkook scoffs loudly and instantly pushes the rest of his finger in your cunt, immediately pumping in and out at a rapid pace. Your hands quickly hold onto his arm that was wrapped around you, mouth agape from the sudden thrusts. “Ohhh!” your body shakes, leaning your head against him. Electric waves of pleasure run through your body, being new to the sensation.

He growls as he removes his finger out to slap your pussy harshly, hitting your sensitive clit. “Wrong.”

“Oww…” you mewl, your hips bucking up from the sting. He does this again, and again, and again, making your eyes watery. He tightens his hold on you, stopping you from squirming too much.

“Daddy.” He purrs.

Your body instantly feel a series of shivers.

“Call me daddy.” Jungkook bites your neck roughly while he inserts his digits back, this time using his middle and ring finger. You hiss in pleasure, eyes tempting to roll back when he brushes the sponge-like texture inside your pussy.

“Shit, right there daddy,” you curse, rolling your hips against his hand for more. “Right there!”

Jungkook feels his cock harden even more, precum dripping down his tip as it twitches against his clothes. The way you pronounce that certain word drove him crazy. Jungkook loves how your body easily crumbles beneath him as you allow him to have all the control. He pounds your pussy faster with his hand, putting his bicep to good use.

You were about to cum, the feeling of a tightness inside your tummy, a ball about to burst at any second. You warn Jungkook, “Daddy, i-i think… I think I'm gonna c-cum,” you sob.

“I know.” He says simply, fucking you harder. Suddenly, he pushes his index finger in, three digits stretching your walls out. You cry loudly, thrashing around him as high-pitched moans carelessly leave your mouth. “Shiiiiit, d-daddy!”

“Need to stretch this little pussy out for my cock” he purrs, “cuz’ we don’t want that tiny hole of yours to split into two, right baby?”

Your toes curl, nails digging into the skin of his arm as you fail to warn him that you're gonna cum any second now. Although he can feel the way your pussy was pulsing around his long fingers. He angled his hand until your clit was brushing against his palm, “Daddy! Ohh fuck, just l-like that!”

Until it all stops.

All of the pleasure stops when Jungkook pulls his fingers out.

“Fuuuuuuuck!” you yell, never been more frustrated before as he denies your orgasm. You were about to cum so hard. Your legs shake uncontrollably, scratching his arms as your body shudders. Your poor cunt pulsates rapidly from the sour loss. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess.

Laughing dryly behind you was Jungkook, licking his fingers clean as he watches your dignity wash away right in front of his eyes.

“Fuck you,” you scowl, pushing away his arms and turning to face him. “Fuck. You.”

But he wasn't bothered at all, of course. He was the devil after all. He had no remorse.

Before you know it, Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat and swiftly pulls you close to his face. You gulp, terrified from the intimidating look in his eyes.

Jungkook thinks that he can easily kill you then and there. If it were a different person, he wouldn't hesitate to snap their neck like a stick. Usually he would feel tempted to physically hurt a person in this kind of situation. But no. He likes you. He likes you too much to kill.

“Take my cock out.”

Even though you hate him for denying your orgasm so brutally like that, you nod your head. Jungkook removes his shirt as you scoot down. You were careful to unbutton his pants, heart rate going faster from the thought of seeing his cock right in front of your face. By the look of the large tent evident, he was gonna be huge. Jungkook watches you with heavy eyes, running his hand through your hair softly.

You pull the garment down and your mouth visibly waters from the sight. The outline of his cock was evident from his briefs, long and thick and was certainly rock hard. You were so afraid to even touch it as you let your hands sit right on his thighs.

“Haven't done this before?” he asks, rubbing your cheek with one hand. You shake your head, afraid to look at his glaring eyes.

Jungkook chortles, quickly pulling his underwear down by himself.

His cock immediately springs out and rests on his abdomen. With wide, surprised eyes, you notice his red tip leaking so much precum, dripping down his abs. You involuntarily whine and wiggle your hips in need, your wetness dripping down your thigh.

“Take it in your mouth.” He orders, voice strict and demanding.

“But—”

“Did I stutter?”

“No daddy.” You whisper, looking away and finally gathering the courage to wrap your hands around his girth. You clench your thighs together when you feel him against your palm – warm and heavy, yet the skin was soft at the same time. When you stroke his shaft up and down watching how his precum pours down to your hands, providing you lubrication as it coats his cock.

Jungkook throws his head back as he smiles down at you, feeling so good. He bucks his hips up repeatedly, meeting your timid strokes.

His patience runs out and slaps your hand away, gripping his cock tightly. Suddenly, he slaps his dick on your cheek, making lewd and wet sounds. “Open your fuckin’ mouth.”

Obeying his command, you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. You taste the saltiness of his seed on your tongue, trying your best to take more of him. His thick girth was making it hard for you as your jaw immediately feels sore.

His hand flies to grip your hair, making you whine around his cock, causing vibrations. “Look at that pretty little mouth tryna’ take this cock,” he smirks, “Go deeper baby. Gag around my cock if you don't wanna be punished.”

Your hips swivel in need from his words, pussy soaking like a river. You slack your jaw as you sink down on his cock, trying to ignore the harsh gags when his tip hits the back of your throat. Jungkook growls loudly above you, seeing that the corners of your mouth were dripping in saliva.

He uses both of his hands to force you deeper. Your eyes start to water when you swallow just half of his big dick, already being too much for you. The harsh and wet gagging sounds were music to Jungkook's ear, loving to see you struggle. “Mhm, fuck yes,” he grunts, “Choke on that big dick.”

He keeps you down there, feeling sinister as his devilish instincts get the best of him. He ignores your cries and pleads, only focusing on the feeling of the sweet vibrations whenever you moaned around him. Or whenever your throat closes around his shaft when you choked, it was all too good for him.

You immediately tapped on his thighs furiously when you can't take it anymore, but what did he do? He starts fucking your mouth with sharp thrusts of his hips. You whimper, closing your eyes tight as your nails dig into the skin of his thighs. He grabs you by your head as he uses your poor mouth for pleasure.

Trying to breathe through your nose, you ignore the burning sensation in your mouth yet it feels too good. “Ahhhh holy fucking shit,” he grunts, feeling your throat tighten, “Look at that – fuck. Bad little girl aren't you? Mhm? You're my bad, naughty girl.” Jungkook mocks, watching the stream of tears drip down your cheeks.

Finally, he pulled out and there were thick strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He groans loudly, his cock twitching as it lays back on his stomach.

“Ohh, c'mere baby girl, come here.” Jungkook whispers and pulls your body close to him. You straddle his lap, feeling his cock beneath your folds that made you hiss. He wraps his strong arms around you, his face inches close to yours. You try not to be intimidated by his menacing eyes, but he notices this and clutches your throat with one hand, squeezing it again that made you inhale sharply. Jungkook sees your pout, your lips bruised from your numerous bites, and he chuckles.

He tugs you until his lips are right upon your ear. “You wanna cum, baby?”

Your body shivers from how deep and alluring his voice was, although you nod your head. “Please, daddy.”

“Oh but do you deserve it? Do you even deserve a cock like mine?”

You hate how frustrated he can make you. You punch your hands down on his chest, whining, “I-I do…”

Jungkook quirks a brow up, immediately forcing your hands behind your back. He roughly grasps your wrists together with one hand, surely leaving a red bruise. He bites his lip, “You do?” He swiftly lands a spank on your right ass cheek, making you moan. “Then sink down on my cock.”

With a puff of your breath, Jungkook helps you align his dick to your sopping entrance. You couldn’t breathe properly, anticipating what will happen as soon as you slowly sink yourself on his thick tip.

“Ohhh daddy!” Your walls stretch out as you take his tip in, making you feel a harsh, stinging sensation as he rips your walls. If it wasn’t with his impressive girth, it probably wouldn’t hurt as much. Jungkook grunts, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him.

“Fuck yeah,” he watches your pussy take him further, your juices coating his shaft. He tightens his hold on your wrists, slightly bucking his hips up. Jungkook lands another hard, loud spank.

“Daddy you're so b-big,” you moan, almost halfway down his dick but you can't take more of him anymore. Jungkook gets turned on from the sweet tone of your voice, the thought of tainting such a girl like you made him chuckle.

Jungkook feeds himself from the idea of corrupting you, letting you know how it feels to truly rebel. Who the fuck cares about what your parents think? Humans are all going to die anyway, there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun.

You start to bounce up and down slowly, your pussy rubbing against him, feeling the thick protruding veins upon your walls. You dig your nails onto your palm, eyes closed shut as you prop yourself up to your feet.

“That's it, baby. Ride daddy's cock,” he insinuates, watching your face contort in pleasure. With your eyebrows knitted together, eyes shut and mouth wide open, Jungkook’s cock throbs inside of you.

“Look at that fucking face, cant take it?” he snickers.

“I can, I can,” you pant tirelessly, legs getting sore. Your brows drew deeper as you concentrated on the feeling of his cock hitting your sensitive nerves so good, already so close to an orgasm from how big he is.

But Jungkook wanted more. He wants it harder, rougher. He wants to shoot his hot cum so hard and deep inside your fresh womb, filling you up. He wants to wreck your body until you break.

So he releases your hands free and instead grabs a hold of your waist firmly, keeping you still. He plants his feet on the bed and starts to thrust his hips up like crazy.

Your jaw drops into an ‘o’ shape and you release a particular loud squeal. Your hands hold onto his broad shoulder, throwing your head back as he continues to drill your abused cunt. His balls slap against your ass, creating lewd slapping noises.

“Dadddyyyyy!” you shriek, eyes expanding so wide from the unexpected bliss of electric currents shooting down your spine. You can't handle it, your orgasm snapping in a quick second. “I'm—!”

Jungkook groans loudly when your pussy squirts your cum all over his dick and gushes all over his stomach. He fucks you through your mind-blowing orgasm, your eyes rolling back to your head as your legs shake from the unexpecting feeling. Your mind seems to cloud in lust as he doesn’t stop fucking you.

“Shit,” he laughs, “look at this poor little girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass before he spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth, kneading the bruised flesh right after. “Squirting all over daddy. You love my big cock so much, huh? You horny, desperate little slut.”

Before you can even process what he just said, he flips you over until you lay down flat on your stomach. He hovers on top of you, keeping his dick in without pulling out. You yelp as he wraps his big hand around your throat, tightly squeezing your jugular without mercy.

“A-ahhh oh—” you choke, letting your forehead down to rest on the sheets as he continues to pound you from behind.

He had absolutely no mercy, using you as his little fucktoy for his pleasure, abusing your pussy like it was made for his demon cock. He chokes you harder, almost making you see stars.

Your cunt throbs once again, signalling that another orgasm is coming near. “Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck!” you moan, heavy puffs of breath coming out of your mouth every time he thrusts into you.

Jungkook feels his nerves getting hotter and hotter, his cock aching to cum. He doesn't think of anything else but the way your walls clench so tightly around him. “Gonna break this motherfucking pussy of yours,” he growls, leaning down until his chest presses against your sweaty back. “I'm gonna fucking paint your walls with my cum, baby. You're gonna take all of it, you're gonna take all of daddy's cum in that tight cunt.”

Your legs squirm, hands closing into fists as you hit the bed over and over from how sensitive you become. Your hands claw the sheets tightly, back arching from the breathtaking pleasure.

“Ahhhh daddy! Ohh my fucking— ahhh yes, yes yes!” your body crumbles, mouth wide open as you scream while you cum for the second time. Your pussy pulses so harshly around his dick, coating it with your juices, making it more wet for him.

He groans, removing his hand from your throat and slaps your ass again. “Naughty little shit right here.” It was so messy, just how he likes it. His cum covered in your glistening arousal, fucking you through your high.

He immediately flips you around again, making you face him. He smirks cockily from your flushed chest and face, noticing that you were having trouble opening your eyes.

He leans down and rests his forearms beside your head, “Take it baby, take it.” he murmurs roughly, his balls getting heavier. “Take my fucking dick.”

Your legs never seem to stop quivering, everything around you seems blurry besides Jungkook's face. How does he still look so handsome and perfect? His black hair falls down his forehead, swaying with every hard thrust, his deep dimples peeking through when he bites his lower lip slowly while he savors the feeling of your warm, wet pussy.

“Gonna cum in you baby,” he pants, holding your cheek in one hand. “Daddy’s gonna cum so fuckin’ hard for you.” You notice a dark, sinister forming his lips as he looks down at you. There it was again, that intimidating, almost teasing look.

He growls roughly, hips staying still inside you as he dips down to gnaw at your shoulder. You hiss, whimpering when he sinks his teeth so harshly into your delicate skin, leaving an ugly mark. “Ah-ahh, daddy!” His cock spurts out warm strings of his seed, filling you up to the brim.

“Mmm, mmm, fuck yeah,” he moans, “take it, Y/n.”

When he pulls his cock out, his pupils enlarge as he sees your arousal dripping out of your cunt and onto your bed. He chuckles, stroking his cock a couple of times to milk himself furthermore, not wasting any of his sperm.

The two of you were breathless, breathing heavily. Your legs feel so sore and you can't feel them either, your ass stinging from his numerous rough spanks.

“Clean yourself up, Y/n.” Jungkook suddenly throws you a wet towel, about to ask him where it came from, although he just stares at you blankly with a quirked brow.

Gulping, you nod and start wiping yourself clean.

He can't leave now. Not after all of this.

There was something that attracted yourself to him. You can't seem to grasp what it is – but whenever Jungkook looks at you in the eyes, you feel like submitting.

It was like your body doesn't belong to you anymore. He possesses your body now.

“Crawl to me, my love.” He whispers, and you were easily drawn to his beautiful eyes.

Still naked, you do as you're told and crawl towards the edge of the bed where he stands. He wears his pants, thankfully covering his goods.

He sighs and softly caresses your cheek with a warm hand, making you flutter your eyes shut whilst leaning against his palm. He hums delightfully, smirking.

“Surrender.” He purrs, eyes drooping down as he looks at you with such gentleness, almost with care. He leans down until your faces are mere inches away from each other. “Surrender to me, my love. And I’ll take you to somewhere you belong.”

Your eyes shimmer, batting your eyelashes as you gawk up at him with eagerness. “W-Where I belong?” you repeat in question.

“Yes, Y/n.” He smiles, showing you his perfect teeth. “Where no one will judge you, no one will criticize you for you. You can be whoever you want, you can do whatever you want. Isn’t that exciting, baby?”

Mouth getting dry, your nerves heat up once again, feeling nothing but anticipation. “Yes.”

Jungkook holds your face in two hands, compelling you to stare unswervingly at his red eyes. “Submit to me, Y/n, and you’ll never worry about this earth’s dreadful problems.” His voice gravelly yet dark, somehow different to his normal human speaking voice.

You didn’t know what he really means by ‘submit’, or where he was supposed to take you. But your mind was telling you to go. Your consciousness speaks to you like someone was whispering in your ear what to do. You kneel before him, still keeping eye-contact. The air around the two of your shifts and it suddenly grows warm as your body starts to sweat.

“Where are…” your voice was breathy, “Where are you taking me?”

Jungkook starts to chuckle, brushing your hair back with his fingers. Suddenly, your heart races when he presses a tender, wet kiss on your forehead. Your eyes widen, heart beating out of your chest when he continues to kiss you down to the bridge of your nose, until it stops right upon your lips. He hovers his mouth right against yours, feeling his warm breath.

He whispers the words so ominously that goosebumps appear all over your arms and legs. “I’m gonna take you down to hell.”

Jungkook watches your face go pale, all the blood leaving your face as you gaze at him with such big, surprised eyes. Without warning, he presses his lips against yours. You can’t keep up with him, his kiss rough and dominating. You whimper when his hand goes to wrap itself around your throat, pulling you closer. His tongue easily slips in your mouth, causing you to gasp. Jungkook smirks through the kiss as he controls the way your mouth moves. The two muscles dance together with such need and passion, hands getting sweaty.

He bites your bottom lip, chewing on the soft flesh while he gently rolls it against his teeth. Jungkook growls, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t seem to get enough of you, wanting you all for himself. He’s addicted to you; your scent, your beautiful eyes, your body, he doesn’t want to leave this earth without you.

He needs you down with him.

Jungkook pulls out as he watches your flushed face, all out of breath. There was nothing else that you could do but whine about the loss of his lips. You were craving more of him. You pout, hoping that he’ll give in but Jungkook just shakes his head with a smirk.

“Answer me, baby. Go down with me, and I’ll treat you so good.” He insinuates, “I’ll treat you like my own fucking queen. Don’t you want that?”

You nod your head furiously, “I do want that,” you say softly.

He clicks his tongue, “Tch, louder.”

“I want it, please. Bring me with you.” Jungkook watches your pupils dilate, growing bigger as you speak. “Please.”

Jungkook smiles. And within a flash, the black smoke that was encircling the two of you all this time thickens and starts to wash over the two of you. You cough uncontrollably yet Jungkook just stands there and watches. The smoke fills your lungs until you lose consciousness.

Sounds of the crackling fire fills your eardrums, and your body tries to accommodate the scorching heat of your surroundings.

Opening your eyes, you see that you’re nowhere in your room, or in the overworld. All that your eyes can see was miles and miles of dark red and black hills, huge torches of fire everywhere, scattered all over the place. There were girls and boys dressed in all black outfits, walking around the place with blank faces, eyes having stripped off of their emotions.

You look down on yourself and thankfully, you were wearing clothes. A tight red dress that hugs your body perfectly, enhancing your curves.

“Y/n.”

A soft voice calls out your name, and you whip around to see Jungkook in his demon form, smiling at you as he sits on his throne. You feel a warm, familiar feeling in your heart as if coming home and going to bed from a long trip. His blazing eyes lead you to a trance.

He beckons you to him for he lifts his right hand out to you. He eyes your body up and down, fixing his posture whilst he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. The way your hips gently sways as you make your way towards him – not losing eye contact – and how your irises burn in desire, it was all that Jungkook asks for.

Your legs move without your permission, leading you up the stone steps to his throne.

His hand was warm when you grasp it, although it was rough and almost hard unlike his human skin, you touch as if there was no difference. You weren’t afraid anymore. Jungkook signals you to sit on his lap, and you gladly obey. With legs on either side of his thigh, you straddle him.

“You’re mine, baby.” Jungkook snarls, “This is your place now.”

“I…” you speak for the first time, “I can’t see my friends and family anymore?”

He shakes his head no with a sly grin.

You exhale, a big smile painting your face. You’ve never felt so content and happy in your entire life.

“Then I love it here.”

Jungkook makes sure that your angels can’t and won’t look for you anymore. He swears that he’ll protect you in every way possible, promising to shield you from anything that will hurt you. Jungkook looks at your beautiful red eyes, feeling your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him close.

The last thing anyone should do is trust a devil — and that goes for your foolish angels.

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