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buckyalpine · 7 months

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CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering.

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard.

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting.

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?”

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off.

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark.

Which was a mess in itself.

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour.

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now.

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more.

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair.

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you.

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n”

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks.

“Y/n”

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself.

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues.

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day.

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week.

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault.

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning.

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness.

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out.

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you”

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips.

“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss”

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?”

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch.

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips.

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off.

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection.

“Please what, sweets”

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out.

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds.

“Sir, pleasee”

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing.

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream”

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait.

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me”

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel.

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you.

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again.

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls.

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings.

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed.

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand.

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl”

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ikiprian · 27 days

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Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)

Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.

He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)

Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.

(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)

So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!

Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.

With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.

Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!

It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.

#ecto has a weird effect on them actually. a lot like how danielle drinks ecto to keep her stable #ecto has positive health benefits for gothamites! it boosts their immune system gives them a little more energy makes them less irritable #silly hc but i think its fun #also danny just. thought it was a normal ass interview. the person who hired him was heavily hinting at the criminal element of his job the #whole time. danny just kept thinking man i cant believe all interviews are like this in gotham. every one of the #m asks if im okay lying to cops. i am but its weird i never got asked this in amity #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dead on main #ghost kitchen au #danny fenton #jason todd #kipwrite

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ohproserpine · 3 months

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iv. dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago

˚୨୧₊♱

"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.

With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"

"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"

Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"

A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.

"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"

Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.

"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."

"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"

Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"

"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.

As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"

Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"

Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."

˚୨୧₊♱

The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.

Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.

Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.

Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.

"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."

"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."

"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"

Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."

A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"

“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"

With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.

Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."

"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"

"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.

"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.

"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."

"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.

Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.

As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.

"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"

With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"

As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.

On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.

Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.

Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.

"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.

The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.

"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."

"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.

It was a look he knew all too well.

"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"

Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.

Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.

The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.

"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."

"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.

"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."

"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"

Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."

Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.

The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.

"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.

"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"

"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.

"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"

Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"

"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."

"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"

Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."

Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"

"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."

Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"

The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.

"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.

"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."

"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.

"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.

Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.

˚୨୧₊♱

You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.

You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.

"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."

Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.

A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.

You missed your husband.

With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸

A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.

Alastor.

Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.

With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.

"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.

Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.

"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."

Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.

From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.

Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.

The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.

You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.

In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.

Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.

The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"

"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"

"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."

Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.

To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract

"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"

"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"

As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.

"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.

"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.

"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.

"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.

"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."

"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.

"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."

A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."

Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.

"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.

"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.

Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.

“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”

"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."

“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”

Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.

"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"

Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.

A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "

Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.

"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"

"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."

Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.

The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.

The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.

Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.

"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.

"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."

˚୨୧₊♱

#calm before the #before the :))#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel vox

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yueebby · 4 months

Text

4:36am – gojo satoru

synopsis. satoru is dying (he has a fever) and he needs his darling wife (you) to nurse him back to health

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, even in sickness gojo can still flirt, he yaps a lot abt marriage and he’s kind of perverted, but he’s just so in love why dont you just give him one chance?

notes. i tried to make this very shoujo-esque. cant have a good shoujo anime without a fever episode! this has also been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. enjoy yet another fic of me showering satoru with affection (sigh).

the cold wooden floors of your dormitory creak underneath your waddling feet. your sleepy haze does not deter you from the strong desire for a cold glass of water.

surprisingly, the usual dark communal kitchen is illuminated by the small lightbulb inside of the fridge. you hear shuffling of some items from the white icebox, removing any ounce of sleepiness from you. it was unusual for anyone to be up at four in the morning.

a tuft of white hair peeks over the refrigerator door, giving the culprit’s identity away.

“satoru? i thought you were still on that mission in sendai?”

the sounds of digging pauses. satoru’s rises to his full height, towering over the rundown refrigerator door. he gives you a crooked smile that you rarely see. it’s dopier than one of his signature cocky smiles.

“missed me? don’t worry, i tried to speed run it since i knew i had such a beautiful woman waiting for me back home.”

you placed a hand on your hip, scoffing at his pathetic attempts to flatter you. a snarky response was about to fall from your lips, but a series of painful coughs from the lanky male stopped you.

you recoil back to avoid his germs. “gross. are you sick?”

satoru sniffles, pointing his nose in the air. the same nose that was starting to turn pink from irritation. “i can’t get sick. it’s physically impossible.”

“don’t be stubborn, satoru. why didn’t you call for help?”

he huffs, eyes trained to the floor. “it’s too early. shoko’ll kill me for waking her up.”

sometimes you forget that satoru had an image to uphold. he was the great gojo satoru, after all.

but if you don’t take care of him, then who will? and despite your disdain at the thought of coddling his ego, it was only basic decency to take care of a fellow peer (or that was what you’d like to convince yourself).

silently, you place the back of your hand to his forehead. you’re not surprised by the warm sensation that you feel.

satoru’s hazy eyes watch as you move your hand from his forehead to his cheek.

you purse your lips in concern. with the way satoru was stubbornly denying that he wasn’t sick, you were nearly certain that he was indeed not fine. without warning, you grab the collar of his white t-shirt and pull him to your room.

“at least take me out to dinner before~”

“shut it.”

it wasn’t hard to get satoru to settle in your bed. in fact, he seemed giddy at the opportunity. while he was happy cuddling with your rilakkuma plushie, you came to two conclusions: either satoru had a wound from his mission that got infected, or he was simply sick.

knowing his pride, you lean towards the former.

the boy in question winces when you grab his shoulders to inspect the damage done to him. the sounds of furious pats and heavy breathing is the only thing you can hear over your rapidly beating heart as your hands run down his body to check for any injuries. satoru sucks in his breath when your hands cup his cheeks to loll his head to check for any damages done to that pretty face of his.

his body tensing up doesn’t go unnoticed by you. your imposing hands immediately retract, afraid of inflicting any more damage on him.

“where is the wound?!” your frantic eyes meet his blissed out ones.

satoru sighs happily, lazily grabbing your hands to bring back onto him, “there isn’t one, this just feels nice.”

your chest angrily puffs up before you shove him into your soft mattress. he grunts, but you know it didn’t hurt.

“[name]!” he whines, rubbing the arm that cushioned his fall.

you cross your arms angrily, “you scared me!”

gojo mimics your actions, crossing his arms while weakly glaring at you. his efforts to intimidate you prove futile as he shivers uncontrollably, resembling a newborn kitten.

sighing, you delve into your closet, emerging with an oversized black sweatshirt that you toss to him.

he catches it with ease, a chuckle escaping while he inspects the sweater, “i never took you for the type to wear this.”

“....that’s not mine.” you give a nod in the direction of the men’s sweater. the sparkle of amusement vanished from satoru's eyes, coinciding with his jaw dropping.

his grip on the dark sweatshirt tightened while his head darted back and forth from you to the clothing item. “then whose is it?!”

“suguru’s.”

you think that you’ve broken him when his face scrunches up in disgust. it’s laughable how his mouth had managed to stay wide open the entire time.

“sugu-suguru?!” he splutters. you slowly nod, careful not to make any sudden movements that could provoke him any further. “why– how– explain yourself!”

you cast an uneasy glance at the sweater, finding it challenging to summon any recollections of how you obtained it, especially with satoru's piercing cerulean eyes fixed on you. his scrutinizing stare has the power to reduce you into a puddle.

“well? go on,” he urges you when you stay silent.

“it’s nothing, really. i believe it was from that mission i had with suguru a while back. somewhere up north. i had packed light and suguru offered me his sweater.” you tap a finger on your chin to recall the memory. “i guess it just slipped my mind to return it.”

“slipped your mind, huh…” satoru sniffles before letting out a sneeze loud enough to wake up japan. you nearly jump out of your skin.

“suguru was just being friendly… and be quiet! yaga will have our heads if he finds you in the girls’ wing!” you warn the weary boy in front of you, prompting him to respond with a dramatic sigh.

“how mean!” he whines before making a pained expression. you quickly rush to his aid. when you make it to his bedside, satoru weakly hands you a clean tissue.

you stare at it blankly.

“be a darling and help me blow my nose?” he gestures for you to hold the tissue up for him. all you can hear are muffled whines when you shove him underneath your plush covers.

when your flurry of attacks ends, he cautiously lifts his head from beneath the sheets. to his surprise, a steaming bowl of bitter melon miso soup is presented to him. while the broth isn't your personal favorite, shoko appreciates its bold flavor, spurring your decision to prepare it the night prior. despite its bitter components, the concoction had a perfect track record of treating illnesses. you have your brown haired friend to thank.

perhaps it was cruel of you to take enjoyment while he eyes the bowl in horror. you know his sweet palate couldn’t handle it.

he looks up at you with big pleading eyes while shaking his head. you roll your eyes.

“c’mon, it won’t kill you.” the bowl inches closer to him by your doing. “please?”

satoru's pallid complexion contorts into a hesitant frown. "i’ll eat it…” he concedes reluctantly. however, his gaze lingers on the bowl with a mixture of uncertainty and reluctance. you respond with a hopeful smile, but it fades when he adds, "on two conditions."

“this is for your own health, not mine satoru.” you remind him.

“doesn’t it pain you to see me suffer?” he brings up, eyes glittering in the darkness.

you suck in a breath. “...not really.” lie.

“you wound me, love.” he clutches his shirt like he has been critically hit.

you bite your lip, tired of his theatrics. “what are the two conditions?”

just like that, gojo comes back to life.

“condition number one! you have to feed me.” he points one finger into the air, paired with an innocent smile. “and two: i want you to warm me up like that night in our first year.”

an unflattering appalled expression is cast over your face. no words leave your mouth for a good minute. “y-you’re disgusting. why are you the way you are?”

“love,” he sighs. “anyways, what kind of wife wouldn’t feed her husband while he’s dying?”

“satoru,” you warn. he was starting to babble nonsense again. “if i accept your conditions, will you shut up?” your eyes were starting to feel heavy. it was the middle of the night, after all.

he nods fervently.

carefully with the bowl of soup in hand, you gently squish yourself next to satoru on your full sized bed. the tight fit left you little room to move, forcing the two of you to nestle closely to each other. with a gentle maneuver, you rest your head on his chest. his arm slowly drapes itself protectively over your shoulder.

“your heart is beating awfully fast.” you whisper, tilting your head upward to take a glimpse of satoru’s feverish face. his breath hitches.

he takes a hand and holds your head back onto his chest to prevent your movement.

“shut it. i didn’t think you would actually accept my conditions.” he mumbles.

“don’t get used to it. this is another moment of weakness.”

you stir the spoon in the broth, basking in the silence of the night, save for satoru’s erratic heartbeat.

“this is very intimate isn’t it?” he gushes. “it’s almost like we’re married—”

“keep your side of the deal,” you remind him, lifting a spoonful of broth up to his mouth. satoru looks straight into your eyes as he opens his mouth to receive it.

his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, “i’m going to tell our grandkids that we were written in the stars.”

you shove another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

extra notes

satoru magically recovered from his fever the next morning.

his second condition (for you to warm him up like that night in your first year) refers to this fic from earlier on in the series.

satoru also made you promise to never accept another hoodie from suguru. if you needed one, satoru was more than willing to give you his! (you halfheartedly agree, only because he was acting all delirious because of his fever).

as of right now, there have only been three occasions where satoru has fallen asleep in your presence. he can testify that those were the best nights of sleep in his life.

shoko went into your room for a spare pair of stockings the next morning only to find you tucked into gojo’s chest. she chases him out of your room all while calling him a pervert . bless her heart.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#remember spring days!au #rsd!au #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x reader

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horrorartsworld · 3 months

Text

cozy as a kitten

alastor/f!reader

warnings: there are none straight up fluff with a little bit of mild teasing c:

You’ve had a long and painstakingly hard day at the hotel.

Every time you thought you could catch a break and sit down someone or something was needing you to do just about everything.

Charlie and Vaggie needed your help for the days activity.

Angel needed your opinion on his new porn shoot.

Sir pentious blew a hole in the side of the hotel with a new invention that you had to confiscate.

Husk well he’s Husk…

Niffty got stuck in a toilet.

At this point you needed just somewhere to slip away for a while and it seemed you knew just the place.

As you ascended the stairs of his broadcasting tower..

Alastor was on the air, so you quietly watched him from the sidelines while he worked. Smiling softly to yourself as you could tell this was truly something the radio demon enjoyed doing (besides causing torment to those who wronged him) and saw how much dedication he put into it.

He finally notices you as he wraps up his last couple words and then signed off turning to you in his chair with that signature grin.

“Hi my dear! Are you feeling alright?~” Alastor taking in your wearisome expression.

“Yeah Al i’m fine…just been a long day and need to get off my feet.” You give him a soft smile as you then rub your eyes tiredly.

He looks around the room seeing as there were no other seats in the room besides his own.

Alastor then puts aside his mic letting it lean against his desk, dusting of his thighs as he pats his hand on his lap.

“Come here” His voice surprisingly soft and inviting which caught you off guard.

“Alastor you don’t have to-“

“I insist~” He cuts you off before you could even protest patting his thigh more demandingly now making you blush.

You walk your way over to him settling yourself on his lap though you sat stiff as a board making him chuckle.

“You can relax now sweetheart, i don’t bite..much~”

Your body went rigged as he said this, shoving your face in his chest to hide your now red face.

“HAHA can’t take the heat..” He teasingly whispered in your ear as the static in his voice was practically humming.

Then an uneasy feeling passes through you as you then hear his tentacles admit from the floor coming up to wrap around you, making your head poke up for a moment as they then stopped once wrapped around you almost like a blanket.

Feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside from the comfort it was bringing to you.

Alastor then runs his hand gently along your hair stroking it as you rested your head on his chest once more feeling your eyes getting more droopy.

“A-alastor~” Your voice tiresome as you attempt to fight the sleep over taking you.

“Shhhhh darling, just rest, you deserve it~” He shushes you softly and could swear you felt a small kiss being placed on your forehead before the slumber completely overtaken you.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

I JUST WANNA SAY THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY FIRST LIL FIC “hell’s little maid”!! i honestly was so iffy on it and felt that my writing was crap to be proven completely wrong 😭 which has now just made me want to write tons more so TY! TY! TY! ᰔᩚ

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor imagine #alastor fluff #alastor x reader #☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor

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deadghosy · 2 months

Text

THANKS TO @lazyemmy FOR THIS LOVELY IDEA OF THE PENGUIN! READER💗🦆

HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER

prompt: during one extermination an angel had kidnapped you and took you to heaven based off a common mistake

“Quack?” You were literally trying to water the hotel’s flowers when you forgot about extermination….the leader of the exterminators had grabbed you by your sailor outfit Velvette made you.

“Shut your mouth short stuff.” You heard a man’s voice to see a person wearing a horned mask and a golden robe. You panicked as Charlie had told you about a man like this as Adam scoffs seeing your panicked state.

“JEEZ CHILL OUT YOU FUCKIN' BIRD BRAIN!” Adam yells as he enters in the portal of heaven with the exterminators behind him. He plops you down on the clouded floors to see the heavenly gates Charlie tells you in stories

As you waddled you seen a male who seemed to be waiting for you. “Ah! Reader..so glad to have you. It seems as if heaven had made a mistake and sent you to hell.” St. Peter said as he picks you up having the gates open. Your eyes widen at the bright light of heaven as angels walk and smile. “Welcome to your true home [reader]”

The air smelt so clean and not bloody as it seemed so peaceful and holy. After St. Peter getting your room and home ready to stay in heaven. You start to feel a little “home” sick as you hope the hotel crew was doing well and aren’t going crazy.

Which they totally are as Charlie is panicking calling her father.

After a few days , Adam will visit you a lot saying how he got forced to look after you…(he wasn’t forced he just liked how cute and pure you are but he’ll never admit it) Adam makes dumb ass jokes about how all those sinners down there should die and perish as he pats you on your little head. You quacked trying to show some worry for your friends down there.

“Oh them? Hah! They’re probably running like headless chickens looking for your ass.” Adam says with his usual grin as he pops some popcorn in his mouth. “Want some?” He says as he waves a piece of popcorn in your face. you sniffed it and ate it from his hand as adam's eyes widen at your cuteness…

you're like a little baby..💗😭😭😭

Adam grabs your chubby cold cheeks as he faces you towards him. “Never leave here. Okay?” He says seriously low with a protective tone as you quack nodding nervously at how quick this dude got attached to you.

Adam pushes your face away from him smirking. “Good now let’s watch this video I saw off of this human app called ‘TikTok’”

Lute didn’t know how to approach you, but she sends you small gifts that reminds her of you as you just open them like “quack?” And a head tilt confused but take it in anyways.

I imagine lute literally being your bodyguard when you don’t have any work to do as she just pushes anyone who gets to close to you away. LIKE IT COULD BE AN OLD LADY AND SHE WOULD BE LIKE “BITCH MOVE!”😭

After the 3rd day of the 1 week of being in heaven, lute definitely got overprotective of you. Always keeping tabs on where you go and which house you deliver mail to. I mean who knows what would happen to a cute soul like you? (A/n: Omg this sounds like a yandere…)

The angels love how adorable you are as they pet you. Immediately you are popular just like how you are popular in hell. Sera has given you a job as a mail boy again as you smile.

I can see St.Peter visit you when he isn’t on duty or just when someone takes his spot so he can say hi and hang out with you.

You wear a cute little yellow and white mail delivery fit thanks to sera who got a designer to get you to fit it perfectly.

You love how you still got your delivery job as you leave a cookie on the front porches of the angels. It’s like your significant signature to others to have a good day.

Adam and lute were arguing one time in front of you and you sniffled not liking the loud noises and immediately, and surprisingly. Adam and Lute pretended everything was okay to make you happy as Adam picked you up and took you away to get your favorite snack for you.

Sera checks on you as well with Emily by her side as Emily just finds you so cute and is excited to get to hang out with you more.

Emily immediately hugs and kisses your head amused by your small and kind soul she sees in you.

Sera would like to take you on stroll on week 2. She’d like to show you around heaven with Emily as she hold you in her arms gushing chow cute you are.

NOW I CAN IMAGINE YOU AND EMILY GOING ON A SHOPPING SPREE TO EXPLORE NEW CLOTHING AESTHETIC ✨💗

You showed yourself to be an angel by spirit as you helped a kid get a new lollipop, which makes sera smile at you being helpful as he is glad to hav with here in heaven and not they “ratchet” place.

You do miss hell as it had your friends who you got use to….you hoped they were still doing okay down there.

MEANWHILE IN HELL: “OMG OMG I CANT BELIEVE THEY GOT KIDNAPPED…IM A BAD FRIENDDD” “HON DONT WORRY, YOUR DAD CAN FIND A WAY TO GET THEM..” “it’s okay fat nuggets, they’ll come back…” *sad oink* and everyone else is having their own panic moment in their own way.

MEANWHILE BACK IN HEAVEN: “quack.” You said looking up at adam who holds your hand. “Huh? Jeeezzz bird brain..stop worrying about those loser down there…they’re fine without you.” Adam says smirking knowing damn well they aren’t .

Emily holds your hand as you waddle quacking at the ice creams around here. They taste so much better as your eyes sparkle at this sweet flavored treat. Emily squeals as her eyes got big and took a pic of your happy face. Sera most definitely got the picture on her heaven phone as her face soften seeing the new angel in heaven enjoying their self.

I imagine Adam is the one to be the one who claims to be the closest to you. But really he just brags about himself to you about how much sinners he kills.

I headcannon for your wings to be little cute fairy looking wings or pure white ones as you just fly.

You definitely have cherubim in heaven which makes the angels find you more adorable as the delivery boy.

You had made an account literally one day, and instantly you got 2 million followers which made you shock as Adam just munches on snacks while you quack panicked at how quick you became famous here.

I headcannon St. Peter to send you cookies with those cute little penguin designs on it. It looks like Christmas cookies but they are so cute and tasty

Say for example you fell and you couldn’t get up as you’re so rounded 😭 LITERALLY ALL YOU CAN DO IS ROLL AND SQEUAK AND QUACK💗 Adam is laughing as he takes a picture and video for himself before helping you up.

I can imagine Adam and Sera having a schedule out to plan who gets it hang out with you on weeks and days 😭

You liked the herbal tea they had as you waddle around with Adam having a kid leash on you as he just looked bored.

At the end of the week, you were sleeping wearing a whole ass cute gown Adam bought you as he literally dropped it on you with a flustered face seeing your cute smile.

As you slept…Lucifer snuck into heaven and snatched you up leaving a “fuck you” letter to Adam. Don’t even question how he got into heaven. Just be glad he took you.

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daisynik7 · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Takuma Ino x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: explicit language, mentions of a popular horror movie, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), nipple play, blow job, mask kink, slight degradation (slut, whore), use of pet names (cutie, sweetie, baby)

Summary: You and your new boyfriend Ino decide to watch a horror movie together in honor of spooky season. Halfway through, he notices how skittish you are, making him want to play a silly prank on you with his signature ski mask. It’s all fun and games until he realizes that you actually like seeing him in this way more than he anticipated.

Author’s Note: Happy October y'all! What can I say, I am VERY into Takuma Ino right now and I just had to get this out of my system. This is barely edited or proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes or typos, I really was just letting my fingers fly through this in a moment of passion LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune.

You turn off all the lights, the only source of illumination coming from the TV screen, paused at the very start of the movie you decided to watch tonight. With a big bowl of freshly popped kernels in your grasp, you huddle beside your boyfriend, Ino, on the couch, covering both your legs with a fleece blanket. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn to stuff inside his mouth. “Ready?” he muffles, pointing the remote to the screen, finger pressed to the center button.

Nuzzling your head against him, you answer. “Yup!”

It’s apparently one of those cult classic horror flicks according to Ino, who recommended it when you mentioned how you wanted to watch something scary for October. He’s seen it before, many times in fact, but he insists that you watch it. He has no clue how frightened you get over the silliest things, so tonight will be a treat for the both of you.

The opening scene plays out: a beautiful blonde picks up the phone and the conversation ends quickly short because it’s the wrong number. Normal so far, good. It rings again, but now the caller seems interested in talking. Do you like scary movies? Do you have a boyfriend? The man’s voice gives you the creeps, and you find yourself shuddering from it, cuddling closer to Ino, who glances at you with a smirk on his face.

You never told me your name.

Why do you want to know my name?

Because I want to know who I’m looking at.

This line gives you goosebumps and you lift the blankets up to hide behind it. “Ew, creepy!” Ino only laughs, throwing a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth.

It escalates from here, getting increasingly chaotic and violent. By the time you’re halfway into the film, the bowl is down to its last kernels and you’re crouched in Ino’s lap, peeking through your fingers. He pauses the movie after one particularly brutal kill. “Snack break! I’m going to make some more popcorn and go pee.”

“You’re leaving?!” you whine, clinging on to him as he tries to get up.

He chuckles. “Babe! It’s just a movie. I’ll be right back, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, heading into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room.

Of course it’s just a movie, but you can’t help feeling creeped out in the dark like this. You reach for one of the nightstands, turning on the lamp. You hear the drone of the microwave, and after a minute or so, the distinct sound of popping. Eventually, it comes to a stop, and the entire house is eerily quiet. You’re tempted to call out for Ino, wondering where he is, but you remember that he had to use the bathroom.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure appears right behind on you on the couch, grabbing your shoulders and shouting gibberish at you. You scream bloody murder, ready to punch him and run away when Ino lifts his ski mask up to reveal himself, tears streaming down his face, cracking up at you.

“Ino!” you yell at him, slapping his hands away from you. “You fucking asshole!”

He doubles over, cackling, wiping his eyes. It takes a good while for him to regain his composure as you glare at him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I just couldn’t resist.” He sits beside you, stretching his arms out for a hug. “You have to admit, that was fucking hilarious.”

You shake your head, refusing. “You’re such a dick.”

“Oh, come on! It was just a little prank. Now you’ll be way more prepared for the rest of the movie!” He pulls the mask over his face again, everything covered except the holes for his eyes. “See? Not so scary anymore, right?”

You inspect him carefully, still pouting, not saying a word.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Truly. I promise not to scare you again.” He scoots towards you, nudging you in the arm.

You roll your eyes at him, relaxing. “Fine.”

“Can I get a kiss now?”

He tries to lift his mask up, but you stop him, pulling it back down. “I don’t want to see your face right now. I’m still annoyed, you know.”

“Aw man! Really?”

You hoist it just past his nose, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. When you break apart, he smirks at you. “You like this, don’t you? Seeing me with my mask on.”

You shrug, a sly grin on your face, neither confirming nor denying his accusation. Sure, you were a bit upset at first, when he scared the shit out of you. But seeing his face covered like that may have sparked a desire in you that you never knew you had, until now.

“Oh my god! You do, you do!” he exclaims, shaking your arm. “My cutie has a mask kink!”

“Shut up, asshole!” you yell at him, pretending to shove him off, smiling.

“You’re a fucking freak!” he giggles, pouncing on you. He starts tickling you along your ribcage, causing you to squirm beneath him as he straddles you, trapping you between his legs. His fingers flutter under your arms, stroking your sensitive skin.

“Ino!” you cry out, laughing from the sensation.

You can feel his cock growing hard in his pants, balls heavy on your stomach. Suddenly, he stops, mask still folded to expose his lips, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. He pins your hands above your head, locking his fingers with yours. He slips inside your mouth, grazing your tongue with his, hungry for your saliva. “Fuck,” he moans into you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You like this freaky shit, don’t you? Nasty slut.” His playful tone is laden with lust now, low and sultry, mouth brushing along your neck, sucking at your pulse points to mark you.

You whine his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him.

“Look at you, getting so fucking dumb all because of my mask,” he purrs. “What else turns you on, cutie? Tell me.”

Without thinking, you blurt out, “Spit. Your spit. I want it.”

“Oh shit,” he swears, licking his mouth. He traces the outline of your lips, beckoning you to open up, dribbling a thick wad of saliva inside you. You gulp it down, sticking your tongue out for more.

“Oh fuck, you’re nasty,” he says, doing it again. “Makes me so fucking horny seeing you like this. Seeing my cutie act like a fucking whore.” He slips beneath your shirt, fondling your bare breasts, flicking your peaked nipples with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Ino,” you whisper, pussy throbbing in your panties, arousal leaking through the fabric.

“You like it when I play with your tits, huh?” Like it when I pinch them hard like this.” He squeezes them between his thumb and index finger, enough pressure to stimulate you, making you moan his name again and again.

He swears under his breath, shoving his pants down his legs, shimmying out of them until he’s only in his underwear now, erection stiff in his boxers. “You gonna suck my cock now or what, slut?”

You nod, kneeling in front of him, knees on the carpet, spreading his thighs apart. He lifts his ass off the couch to slide out of his boxers, letting them fall around his ankles. You kiss the tip of his dick, smearing his precum around your lips like gloss before swallowing him into your mouth.

He lets out a drawn out, “Fuck,” watching you with wide eyes as you bob up and down his shaft. Voice shaky, he asks, “Can I put my hands on you?”

Something about him in this ski mask makes you want to be submissive, makes you want to be used. You grab both his hands, guiding them towards the sides of your head, giving him free rein to manhandle you.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, gripping you tighter, gradually thrusting his hips in tandem with you. His cockhead hits the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex, but you resist, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes, enduring it.

Noticing you, he pulls out, a string of spit between you. “Baby, baby. Please don’t force yourself. I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches to his side, grabbing a tissue from the table beside the couch, wiping away the spit around your mouth and the tears in your eyes. “Come here, cutie. I want to make you feel good too.”

You strip out of your bottoms, straddling his lap, pussy wet and aching against him. He moans as you rock back and forth on his shaft, pressing his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “There we go. Now we both can feel good, yeah?”

After a few more strokes, you beg him to fuck you, lifting up to guide his cock inside you slowly, sinking down on him until he bottoms out. You bounce on him, his hands gripped to your waist, guiding you, moaning your name between expletives.

As you approach your orgasm, you pull up his mask, placing it on his head as he usually wears it. He smiles brightly at you, nuzzling his nose to yours. “There’s my pretty girl. Can you come for me now? Come all over this cock?”

You kiss him passionately, arms wrapped around his neck as he thrusts into you, hands squeezed on your ass now. You reach your climax, moaning into his mouth. He comes with you, shooting his load deep into your womb, filling you up with his cream pie. The two of you continue to kiss slowly, catching your breaths. He caresses your back while you melt into his embrace.

“We need to establish a safe word,” he suggests, cradling you in his arms. “I want to make sure I’m not hurting you.”

You hum into his skin, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Popcorn."

He chuckles, stroking the back of your neck gently. “Alright. Popcorn it is.” A beat later, he exclaims, “Popcorn! I totally forgot about the popcorn!”

You laugh, giving your boyfriend a wet smooch on the cheek.

#takuma ino #ino takuma #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino smut #ino takuma smut #ino takuma x reader #takuma ino x you #ino takuma x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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starryhyuck · 2 months

Text

pairing: slytherin!jaemin x afab!ravenclaw!reader

words: 10.3k+

summary: na jaemin has asked you out every year since you came to hogwarts. maybe this is the year you’ll say yes.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: reader is shy, slight corruption kink, penetrative sex, loss of virginity, voyeurism, fingering, cunnilingus, public sex, squirting, creampies, messy sex

You’re in your first year at Hogwarts when Na Jaemin asks you out for the first time.

The both of you are standing in the middle of the courtyard and his ears are blooming red, either from the cold or pure embarrassment. He’s holding a chocolate frog, outstretching his hand to you.

“I think you’re pretty.”

You try to ignore the fact that your friends are squealing behind you. Your eyes are only focused on Jaemin, who’s wearing his signature smile. His best friends, Jeno and Donghyuck, are snickering behind him.

You know you want to tell the Slytherin that he’s pretty too, or at least thank him for the gift, but somehow your brain completely short circuits.

Your eleven-year-old self runs away from the group and back into the Hogwarts castle, breaking Na Jaemin’s heart for the first time.

—

You’re in your second year when Na Jaemin asks you out for the second time.

Your rejection of Jaemin the previous year spread around school like wildfire. Many of your friends asked you why you turned him down, especially when he was one of the most desired boys in your year. You didn’t know how to explain that he made you extremely nervous and his declaration of affection caused you to hate the attention you started receiving.

“Jaemin’s looking at you,” Doyeon giggles in your ear.

Your eyes wander up from your Potions book to see that, indeed, Jaemin is sitting at one of the library tables across the room, focus directed at you. You swallow and return your gaze to your textbook.

“Don’t you want to ask him why he’s staring at you?” Doyeon whines at your lack of enthusiasm. “He clearly still likes you!”

The librarian shushes your table and Doyeon sticks her tongue out when they’re not looking.

You sigh. “I just want to finish my Potions essay, Doyeon.”

You can practically see her roll her eyes in response. Jaemin has tried talking to you since the incident, jumping at any chance to partner with you during your classes together. You’ve only offered him rapid blinks and slow nods in return.

You groan when Doyeon suddenly elbows your side.

“Go and get me the book we need for Charms, please.”

“What? Why can’t you get it?” You frown, eyebrows furrowed.

She sighs as if you’re the one causing a problem. She gives you one of her signature looks and you grumble, pulling yourself away from the table. When you finally find the aisle you’re looking for, you nearly gasp when you see Jaemin there too.

Oh Doyeon, you sneaky witch.

He says your name like you’ve just caught the Golden Snitch. “Nice to see you!”

You smile awkwardly, ignoring the butterflies swarming your stomach.

“Hi, Nana.”

He beams when you call him by his nickname. You falter at his clear enthusiasm. You wish you were just slightly more brave to carry a conversation with him, but you resort to clumsily searching for Doyeon’s book. You sigh when you realize it’s on the top shelf.

Before you can attempt to grab it, you feel Jaemin’s chest press against your back as he easily takes it for you. You yelp at the proximity, ignoring his cheerful smile as he hands the book over to you.

“Looking for this?”

You try your best to steady your voice. “Um, yes?”

He chuckles. “You don’t sound so sure about it.”

Despite the book being safely in your hands, he shows no signs of stepping away from you. You avoid any eye contact you could possibly make with him.

“I should get back to my table,” you whisper softly. “Doyeon probably wants to get started on her Charms homework.”

“Meet me at the Astronomy Tower tonight?”

You blink at Jaemin’s question. He’s still smiling happily, fully expecting you to say yes.

“Um, I have a lot of work to get done tonight. Potions essay and all of that.”

“Oh,” he murmurs bashfully, scratching the back of his neck and taking a step away from you. “That’s okay. Some other night then?”

“Okay!” You squeak, taking your chance and scurrying away from him. Your abrupt departure prevents you from seeing the hopeful look in his eyes.

When you return to your table, Doyeon is smirking mischievously.

“You sure took a long time getting that book.”

“I hate you.”

—

You’re in your third year when Na Jaemin asks you out for the third time.

“Dude, she’s not going out with you. It’s starting to look super desperate.”

Jeno has to physically prevent Jaemin from lunging across the Great Hall table and attacking Donghyuck.

“Hyuck,” Renjun scolds from his spot next to Jeno. “You know Jaemin’s sensitive about it.”

“Whatever,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “All I’m saying is that everyone knows you like her, and if she liked you, then moves would have already been made.”

“You don’t know anything,” Jaemin hisses. “She’s just shy, that’s all. She doesn’t like the attention.”

Jeno glares at Donghyuck as a signal for him to shut up. Renjun even shoves a spoonful of chicken into Donghyuck’s mouth to make sure of it.

Jaemin’s focus returns to you as you’re giggling into your hand at something Yoo Jimin says. He fondly smiles at the sight of you looking so happy from across the Great Hall. He wishes you would look that happy whenever you see him too.

His attempts at getting you to agree to a date has been less than successful to say the least. Donghyuck was right — everyone in the Wizarding World knew of Jaemin’s crush at this point, but you still showed no signs of returning his affections.

“I’m not saying Donghyuck’s right or anything,” Renjun timidly brings up, earning a warning look from Jeno. “But maybe you should try crushing on someone else. Who knows? Maybe she’ll get jealous.”

Jaemin scoffs at the idea. As if he could like anyone else but you. It sounded unbelievably pathetic, but you were all he thought about. He wanted nothing but to hold your hand and kiss you in front of everyone.

Even if it made him the running joke to the rest of the houses, he didn’t care. He only desired you.

His blood boils when he sees Shotaro approach your table, cheeks red as he asks to sit down next to you.

“What the hell is he doing?” Jaemin hisses.

Jeno coughs awkwardly. “I heard from Sungchan that Shotaro has a little crush.”

“What?” Jaemin practically yells, causing the rest of his house to shush him.

“Alright, let’s be calm about this,” Jeno says, knowing how irritated his best friend could get. “Jaemin-“

Jeno’s protests are ignored as Jaemin makes his way over to your table. Jeno runs a hand down his face, praying that Jaemin doesn’t make a complete fool out of himself.

You nearly jump out of your seat when you hear your name being called. You glance behind you to see Jaemin.

“O-Oh,” you stutter, not expecting his presence. You fail to notice Shotaro’s shoulders slump in defeat at the sight of the Slytherin. “Hi Nana.”

You pay no attention to Doyeon and Jimin’s raised eyebrows from their positions across from you. Jaemin forces his hands between you and Shotaro, creating enough distance for him to sit in the middle.

“What are we talking about over here?”

Doyeon and Jimin exchange a look before Doyeon speaks up. “Shotaro over here was just talking about going to Hogsmeade this weekend.”

“Oh? I didn’t even know Hufflepuffs went outside,” Jaemin hums. Doyeon and Jimin cover up their laughs with a cough.

“Hogsmeade trips are for all students,” you mention quietly.

Jaemin smiles at you. “That’s right! I was actually thinking about going to Madam Puddifoot’s, want to join?”

Every student knows that Madam Puddifoot’s is where all the couples go on dates. Since this is the first year you’re allowed to take weekend Hogsmeade trips, you haven’t gotten a chance to see it for yourself. However, the thought of going with Jaemin seemed way too nerve wracking.

“She would love to!” Jimin interjects, shooting you a look.

“Actually, I was going to ask her if she wanted to go with me,” Shotaro says, glaring at Jaemin.

The two boys suddenly engage in a heated staring contest, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Doyeon and Jimin, on the other hand, are thoroughly enjoying watching the current scene unfold.

“Maybe we can all go!” You say in an attempt to ease the tension.

Doyeon’s head hits the table in reaction to your stupidity. Jaemin and Shotaro turn to you with confused looks on their faces. Jimin decides to help you out.

“Actually, I just remembered we promised Minjeong we would meet her at Honeydukes to grab some sweets. Sorry boys, maybe next time.”

You squeak when Doyeon suddenly grabs your arm, and before you know it, you’re being pulled away from the table.

Once you’re out of sight, Jaemin turns to scowl at the Hufflepuff.

“Don’t even think about it. Everyone knows I like her.”

Shotaro scoffs. “Just because you like her doesn’t mean she likes you.”

“Watch it, Hufflepuff.”

“Game on, Slytherin.”

A few minutes of intense glaring occurs until Jeno and Sungchan both rush over to the table, pulling the two boys apart.

—

You’re in your fourth year when Na Jaemin asks you out for the fourth time.

The only difference this year is that you already have a boyfriend. You’ve been dating Shotaro for a couple of months, and everything seems to be going well.

The only bump in the road so far was your friends.

“Listen, I’m just saying that Shotaro is really sweet and nice, but you clearly took the easy way out,” Doyeon complains. “I know that deep down, you like Jaemin more.”

“Doyeon, I really don’t want to hear this again,” you sigh, trying your best to focus on your History of Magic homework.

Doyeon and Jimin brought Jaemin up at least once a week. Ever since you started dating Shotaro, Jaemin took a hint and spent less and less time trying to get your attention. You still noticed his lingering stares here and there, but Shotaro would always try to initiate skinship with you just to remind Jaemin who you were dating.

“What are we talking about?” Jimin asks, plopping down on the couch in the Ravenclaw common room.

“How Jaemin is better than Shotaro,” Doyeon responds.

You frown. “You know, Slytherins aren’t even allowed in here.”

The two Slytherins ignore your protests. “Oh, Jaemin is so much better,” Jimin echoes. “I think she just likes Shotaro because he’s quiet and shy like her. But Jaemin would show her a much better time.”

“Jimin!” You hiss, growing embarrassed by the second. “Can we not talk about this please? I’m dating Shotaro and I really like him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You try not to let their words get to you since you know Doyeon and Jimin love to tease you. The thought of Jaemin still lingers in your mind, however, and Shotaro starts to notice you distancing yourself a week later.

“Are you okay?” He asks apprehensively, almost afraid of hearing the answer. “You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m fine!” You try to assure him, ignoring the worried look in his eyes. “I’m just stressed with homework, that’s all.”

He smiles and you can’t help but compare it to Jaemin. Jaemin’s smile is a little brighter and more captivating, always causing your brain to malfunction whenever he grins at you.

“You don’t need to worry. You’re the smartest girl in our year,” Shotaro assures.

You laugh nervously. “Thank you.”

A few moments pass while the two of you are walking down the hallway before Shotaro clears his throat. He seems even more anxious than you.

“Did you hear about the dance they’re hosting this year?”

“Oh,” you hum, thinking about it. You remember Doyeon excitedly chattering the details to you, talking animatedly about what kind of dress she plans on wearing and how she’s going to style her hair. Jimin was equally excited, attempting to also raise your enthusiasm about the event. “Doyeon and Jimin have been mentioning it to me.”

He beams. “Good! I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

You sheepishly stutter. You were honestly planning on skipping the dance in favor of getting a good night’s sleep. Although knowing Doyeon and Jimin, they would never let you ditch.

“S-Sure. That sounds nice.”

Shotaro’s smile extends tenfold, and he leans down to press a kiss against your cheek. You bashfully stare at your feet, avoiding his gaze.

When you relay the information to the two girls later, they’re so excited you agreed to go to the dance that they don’t even mention Jaemin. They eagerly discuss shopping plans and hair and makeup expectations, all while you panic on the inside.

They help you pick out a gorgeous blue gown that hugs your figure, which initially makes you nervous but with a lot of assurances from Doyeon and Jimin, you grow confident in your appearance. The girls do your hair and makeup for you, giggling about how cute you’re going to look.

“If only it was for Jaemin,” Jimin hums while applying your eyeshadow.

“Hey,” you protest softly. “You said you were happy that Shotaro asked me.”

“I am!” She argues. “It’s just that I know Jaemin really likes this color on you.”

“Is that why you picked this out for me?”

When the both of them fail to answer your question, you huff. Your curiosity gets the best of you, however.

“Is Jaemin going with anyone?”

You miss the look Doyeon and Jimin exchange over your head. “I heard he asked out Yizhuo,” Jimin answers.

“Oh,” you mumble. Yizhuo was a Slytherin girl in the same classes as both you and Jaemin, so it would make sense that he asked her. You remember her being very pretty and sweet whenever you got paired for projects together.

Doyeon smiles, sensing your disappointment even though you would never admit it. She presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Just have a good time tonight, my little flower.”

“You know I’m the same age as the both of you. You don’t have to keep acting like my moms.”

You giggle when they suddenly shower you in kisses as a response.

Shotaro perks up when you finally meet him outside of the Great Hall. He’s wearing a blue tie to match your dress, and he kisses the back of your hand in greeting.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments.

“Thank you,” you manage to whisper, feeling bashful by the attention.

Some of the other houses are stopping to look at you two, murmuring to each other and making you even more nervous. Your breath catches in your throat when you meet Jaemin’s eyes across the room. He’s smiling fondly at you, his emerald green tie matching Yizhuo’s dress.

Your heart sinks a little at the sight of them looking like a perfect pair standing next to one another. Shotaro nudges you out of your trance.

“Ready to go in?”

You nod, mustering your best smile. “Born ready.”

The night, by all means, was a picture perfect fairytale. Shotaro was a perfect gentleman as he led you on the dance floor, with you feeling slightly inferior to his incredible dance skills. You exchanged a few fun twirls with Doyeon and Jimin, giggling to one another in the midst of all the sparkle and flair. Your eyes only strayed a few times to catch the sight of a certain Slytherin boy dancing with his date.

It forces you to excuse yourself to catch your breath. Shotaro offers to go with you but you insist on him staying inside and enjoying himself.

Jaemin later finds you in the Astronomy Tower, overlooking the stars.

He clears his throat to make you aware of his presence, causing you to jump at the sound.

“Sorry,” he apologizes with a chuckle, taking the spot next to you. “I didn’t know I would catch you out here.”

“I just needed a breather,” you murmur, ignoring the fact that his arm is nearly pressed against yours. “It was getting a little stuffy in there.”

“Your boyfriend didn’t want to escort you out?”

If you notice an implication in Jaemin’s tone, you make no show of it.

“No, I told him to stay. He’s a great dancer, I don’t know if you’ve seen it.”

“Oh, I’ve seen it,” he says under his breath, almost with a hint of jealousy.

You two linger in silence for a bit before he breaks it.

“It would be wildly inappropriate for me to ask you out at this moment, right?”

You blink at him, startled by the sudden question.

“I thought you came with Yizhuo?”

“Yizhuo and I are just friends,” he brushes off. “She didn’t have a date and the girl I wanted had a date of her own already.”

He eyes you carefully and you flush in embarrassment, staring down at your hands.

“Jaemin, you know Shotaro is my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, that’s unfortunate, isn’t it?”

“Nana,” you whisper, hoping the nickname will convey exactly what you want to say. To tell him that despite your conflicting feelings, you’re still dating Shotaro and don’t want to hurt him in any way.

He nods in understanding before preparing to take his leave. “Before I go, I just wanted you to know you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You took my breath away when I saw you. Shotaro’s a lucky guy and I hope he knows it.”

You watch pitifully as Jaemin heads back to the dance, ignoring the sound of your heart thumping in your ears.

—

You’re in your fifth year when Na Jaemin’s attempts start to falter for the first time.

You and Shotaro ended your relationship on good terms over the summer, agreeing that the both of you were better off as friends after holding hands started feeling too awkward. When Doyeon and Jimin found out about the amicable breakup, they were quick to get you back on your feet once you voiced your insecurities.

“Maybe it was me? Am I not pretty enough to kiss?”

They both frown, looking more disappointed than you’ve ever seen them.

“You are the prettiest girl at Hogwarts, so I have no idea where this is coming from,” Doyeon shakes her head, combing her fingers through your hair.

You’re sprawled on the floor of their shared bedroom after Jimin found a way to sneak you into the Slytherin dorms.

“You said it yourself that Shotaro and you broke up because it was too awkward. He never told you that you weren’t pretty enough to kiss,” Jimin reminds you.

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “But we just never did what normal couples do, you know? It made me start to think that it was because of me.”

“It could never be because of you,” Doyeon chides. “Besides, if you want to get kissed that bad, I know someone who would be first in line for that chance.”

It rattles you when you automatically know who she’s referring to.

“I heard he got a girlfriend over the summer,” you say quietly.

Jimin scoffs. “You heard wrong. I told you to only get gossip from me, I’m a reliable source. I’ve heard absolutely nothing about said girlfriend.”

The three of you are thoroughly surprised when you catch Jaemin the next day, hand in hand with Hyojung, a fellow Ravenclaw girl.

Jimin curses under her breath and Doyeon scolds her for not being the first one to know this new information. As the couple walk down the hallway, Jaemin’s eyes lock with yours. You both still, almost as if time has stopped in its tracks.

He’s the first one to break it, with Hyojung tugging on his arm and questioning why he suddenly stopped in the middle of the crowd. Your eyes well with tears before you stray from Doyeon and Jimin, finding an empty classroom to wallow your sorrows in.

Why were you so sad? It’s not like you had anything romantic in line for you and Jaemin. After all, you were the one who’s been rejecting him since you first stepped foot in Hogwarts.

You decide to ignore your muddled feelings for most of the first half of the year. Jaemin and Hyojung seem to be going strong and despite Jimin’s endless apologies, you insist that you’re happy for the couple and wish them all the best.

You get paired with Jeno for a Charms project as the winter season approaches. Jeno proves to be a diligent partner, equally dividing work and quietly finishing your portions of the project in the library together.

The question itches at the back of your mind one night, and you can’t stop yourself from asking.

“Jeno, how did Jaemin and Hyojung get together?”

He’s surprised by the inquiry, head tilted in confusion. “Well, their parents are friends and they used to be close when they were younger. They decided to give the relationship a try over the summer to see if it fits.”

You nod and thank him for answering. An hour passes in silence before he bites back.

“Why do you ask?”

You chew on the end of your pencil nervously. “I was curious. They just seemed to get together out of the blue.”

He studies your expression carefully. “You broke up with Shotaro over the summer, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” you reply awkwardly. “We decided it wasn’t a good fit for us.”

He hums in understanding.

The two of you finish your homework session without any more probing questions, and Jeno is fast to locate his Slytherin best friend afterwards.

Jaemin is startled when Jeno almost runs him over outside of the Slytherin dorms.

“What’s up with you?”

Jeno huffs, out of breath from rushing all around Hogwarts in search of him.

“Things with you and Hyojung — they’re not serious, right?”

Jaemin shrugs. “She’s pretty and nice. It’s not a bad relationship.”

“But it’s not a really good one either?”

“I mean, I guess so. Why are you asking?”

“A certain Ravenclaw girl just asked me about you,” Jeno divulges. “She asked me about you, Jaemin. You were far from any topic of conversation and she was the one to bring you up first.”

Jaemin freezes at the revelation. He spent the whole summer trying to forget about you, accepting that you were happy with Shotaro and perhaps Donghyuck was right, he was starting to look pathetic chasing after you. Hyojung’s family came to visit one day in August and after seeing how heartbroken he was, she suggested they begin a relationship to try and get him to move on. He agreed, mainly because his parents always loved Hyojung and he needed to get his mind off of you.

As twisted as it sounds though, Hyojung could never compare to you.

He doesn’t understand why you’ve enraptured him like this, it was just supposed to be a silly crush. He never expected to see flickers of you when he would kiss his girlfriend or think of your laugh when he’s holding someone else’s hand.

He shakes his head from the thought.

“Jeno, I can’t. You know I spent so much time getting over her.”

His friend rolls his eyes. “And how did that work out? You still look like a love struck puppy whenever she walks by and Hyojung is still convinced she can get you to love her. Wake up, dude.”

Jaemin presses the palm of his hands to his eyes, desperately trying to erase the fantasies floating through his head.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I thought I already spelled it out for you. Free Hyojung from her misery and get your girl.”

When Jaemin approaches Hyojung the next day, his heart sinks in his chest as he registers the devastated look on her face.

“What? What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” he assures her. “I just don’t think this is working out. I haven’t been feeling any sparks.”

Her eyes well with tears and Jaemin starts to feel guilty.

“Is this about her? Are you seriously still not over her? We’ve been together for nearly five months, Jaemin!” Her sadness quickly shifts to unadulterated rage, glaring at him and hoping he’ll sink into the ground. “How could you lead me on this whole time?”

“I wasn’t trying to, Hyojung, I swear,” he promises, but they’re clearly empty to the girl in front of him.

“Go fuck yourself, Na Jaemin.”

You find Hyojung crying in the Ravenclaw common room that day. You pause when you see her crumbling on the couch with her best friend, Soeun, comforting her. They scowl when you come into their view.

“There she is, the homewrecker herself,” Soeun sneers at you.

You have no idea why the two girls are suddenly bashing on you. You hold your arms closer to your chest defensively.

“W-What?”

Hyojung stands and approaches you until she’s inches from your face.

“I don’t know why he finds you so special. You’ve never once given him the time of day yet he’ll bend over backwards to have you,” she hisses, expecting the words to sting for you.

You blink. “Who are you talking about?”

She laughs and it’s one of those hollow, maniacal laughs that sends shivers down your spine.

Soeun joins in, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at you condescendingly. “We’re not falling for your little innocent schoolgirl act. You know Jaemin and Hyojung’s parents were already planning their wedding, right? How sick of you to insert yourself into a relationship and break it apart.”

The two girls continue to berate and belittle you until the whole of Ravenclaw is convinced you’re a nasty homewrecker. You leave the common room in tears, finding solace in one of the nearby alcoves.

That’s how Jaemin finds you — sobbing into your hands and feeling the most low you’ve ever felt in your entire Hogwarts stay.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He tries to pry your hands away from your eyes to talk to you, but you pull away from him like you’ve just been burned.

“Get away from me!” You demand, turning away from him and sniffling softly to yourself.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice filled with distress. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to know why you’re crying, and if I can help at all.”

You spin back around to face him. Jaemin’s heart cracks at the sight of you looking so defeated.

“Why would you break up with Hyojung because of me?” You question in a small voice, trying to stop your tears.

He stutters. “I-I didn’t break up with her because of that. The relationship never felt right.”

“Well, that’s not what she’s saying. I don’t understand why you’re so intent on ruining my life, Nana.”

“What? I would never ruin your life!”

“But you have!” You cry, not caring how unattractive you are at this moment. “You give me all this attention that I never asked for as soon as I get to Hogwarts, and suddenly everyone is referring to me as the girl who rejected Na Jaemin. Then I get a boyfriend and you’re lurking around every corner, praying for me to break up with him. And then you get a girlfriend, crush her heart, and now she’s accusing me of being a homewrecker!”

Realization washes over his features and he takes a step back from you.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, this is all my fault. I’ll clear up whatever Hyojung started and I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry.”

You watch him disappear around the corner, throwing you one last sorrowful glance.

After you relay the day’s events while crying in Doyeon and Jimin’s arms, you wonder if you would ever speak to Jaemin again.

—

You’re in your sixth year when you haven’t spoken to Na Jaemin since the start of the term.

Hyojung approaches you when you return from the summer break, guilt-ridden by her behavior.

“I’m so sorry for saying all of those things about you. It was really immature of me to start those rumors, especially knowing that it was Jaemin’s fault, not yours. I was just angry and looking for someone to blame. I hope you can forgive me.”

You smile shyly and nod. “Thank you for apologizing. I’m sorry again for what you had to go through.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to say that to me. I’m going to clear up all those nasty things people are saying about the situation so please, let’s just try to move past it.”

The first few months of the term pass by quickly, with all of the rumors about you being squashed by both Hyojung and Jaemin. Soon enough, people are finding new gossip to discuss and your incident fades into the background.

You try to accept that you’ll never speak to Jaemin again. He’s completely turned into a ghost of the person you once knew. He no longer smiles whenever people call his name in the hallway or jokes around with Jeno and Donghyuck in the Great Hall.

He becomes a true, stereotypical Slytherin — emotionless and disinterested.

It concerns you, honestly. However, your friends have ruled it to be none of your business.

“But he’s just so lifeless! I just want to make sure he’s doing okay.”

Doyeon waves a finger at you like a mother scolding her disobedient toddler. “He should be the furthest thing from your mind. You need to be focused more on your studies and less on boys.”

You really start to feel like a rebellious teenager when Jimin places her hands on your shoulders and pushes you down to sit on the edge of her bed.

“One day, you’re going to grow up and realize we are just trying to do what’s best for you,” she clicks her tongue.

You frown. “It wasn’t even a year ago when you two were encouraging me to come out of my shell and date Jaemin!”

“Yes, and that was before he made you cry and got the whole school to believe you were trying to break relationships left and right,” Doyeon says, arms flailing about. “We don’t trust him like we used to.”

“Turns out he really was just a man,” Jimin sighs, shaking her head.

Despite their disapproval, you search for Jaemin that night to try and open a civil conversation with him. You want him to know that you don’t blame him for what occurred the previous year and it would be best for you both to try and move on.

You’re about to turn the corner to the Slytherin dorms when you hear a sharp gasp.

You shield yourself behind a pillar, eyes peeking out to identify the cause of the sound. You nearly choke when you see Jaemin has Lee Seojeong pressed up against the wall, his fingers hidden underneath her skirt.

Jaemin hisses lowly. “Keep quiet. You said you would.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers in apology. Her sorrows soon turn into cries of lust, gripping Jaemin’s shoulder tightly.

You’re frozen in your spot, unsure of what to do. Your heart is thumping wildly in your ears and you’re ashamed to admit the arousal pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You can see Seojeong is finding it harder and harder to muffle her cries and just before she reaches her high, Jaemin’s eyes suddenly flicker over to zero in on you.

Surprise fills his features as much as it does yours, and you both ignore that Seojeong has already tipped over the edge. Jaemin withdraws his fingers from her, still staring intensely at you.

Mortified by getting caught, you quickly turn and run back to Doyeon and Jimin’s room, praying the world will swallow you whole.

Much to your chagrin, the world is not on your side.

The next day, your Charms professor announces a class project, sharing that he’s already paired up the class. And, of course, you find yourself with the Slytherin boy you’re trying your best to avoid. You’re incredibly embarrassed when Jaemin approaches your desk.

“Um,” you say bashfully, trying your best to not look at him. The burn of his stare from the previous night is still ingrained in the back of your mind. “I think we should divide the work evenly. I can start researching the history while you can look into the process of casting the charm.”

Jaemin, on the other hand, is enjoying watching you squirm. Ever since last year’s incident, he’s built up a few walls to shield himself from the lingering stories in the Hogwarts castle. He blames himself for causing you so much heartbreak and promised at the start of sixth year that he wouldn’t let people in as easily as he used to. He really only talks to Jeno and Donghyuck now, ignoring the rest of his classmates who are probably only using him as fodder to feed the lurking gossip.

As for Seojeong, she’s one of the many girls he’s been hooking up with to take his mind off of you. He accidentally slipped up a few months ago when he said your name in the midst of his release with another girl, encouraging even more people to whisper about you and him. Luckily, he shut it down before word ever got to you. He’s been a lot more careful with his restraint since then.

He never expected to meet your gaze while he was fingering Seojeong outside of the Slytherin dorms.

And he won’t lie if someone asked him if he has fantasized about your curious eyes watching him pleasure someone else before.

“That sounds fair.”

You nod at his short response, still refusing to meet his stare. You quickly gather your books in your arms.

“I-I’ll meet you at the end of the week to discuss what I find then.”

You don’t tell Doyeon or Jimin what happened that night. They question you when you return to their dorm a little frazzled and panicked, but you say that you simply saw a bug in the hallway that creeped you out.

They buy your excuse then, but grow increasingly more suspicious when you continue to act on edge for the rest of the week.

“Alright, what in Merlin is going on with you? You heard a chair squeak and I swear you jumped out of your skin,” Doyeon says, eyes narrowed at you.

Jimin leans forward on the library table to get a closer look at your flushed expression.

“N-Nothing!” You stutter, fingers rolling through the fabric of your skirt nervously. “I’m just- um, I’m just-“

They watch you flounder, eyebrows raised as you struggle to find the right words.

“Could I ask you both a question? And you have to promise that you won’t ask me any follow-up questions in return.”

Doyeon and Jimin exchange a glance before nodding hesitantly.

“Go ahead.”

You take a deep breath. “Have you two ever, you know, been with someone? Like on an intimate level?”

A moment of silence passes before questions erupt from the two.

“Is someone trying to pressure you into having sex?”

“Oh Merlin, do we have to go and kill someone? Who’s trying to put their hands on you?”

You swiftly shush them, turning your head to check if anyone in the library is eavesdropping in on you.

“You promised,” you whine.

They sigh, clearly stressed from the idea of you being pressured into anything.

Jimin speaks first. “Yes, I have. It was awkward and not that fun, if I’m being honest.”

Doyeon hums in agreement. “Definitely more pleasurable for the guy than the girl most of the time.”

“Okay,” you drawl, trying to figure out how to ask them what you’re really wondering. “So it was a one time thing? You weren’t in a relationship with them?”

They nod. You huff, pondering over the idea. You would never admit your jealousy, but the image of Jaemin pleasuring Seojeong chilled you to your core. Your mind has been swirling with frenzied thoughts all week — were they dating now? When did Jaemin suddenly start fingering girls in public? Did this mean he really wanted nothing to do with you anymore? And lastly, how did you fall so far behind your classmates sexually?

A tap on your shoulder takes you out of your trance. Doyeon and Jimin’s expressions have suddenly turned stern, lips pursed at whoever has approached your table.

“Hey, you ready to discuss our project?”

Your eyes flit up to catch the boy that has been haunting your dreams. Jaemin’s fingers brush through his hair casually, and you speculate if he knows how attractive he looks.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you reply nervously, taking your notebook and standing to walk with him.

Doyeon says your name with fervor before you can leave. “Maybe one of us should go with you. Or you can talk about your project here.”

You don’t miss her implication and the fact that the former topic of conversation has them theorizing that Jaemin is the one bringing your sexual awakening to light.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Jaemin answers for you, ignoring their glares and escorting you to another table towards the back of the library.

You avoid his gaze as much as possible when you sit down, opening your notebook and immediately diving into the details of the Bubble-Head Charm.

“The charm can be dated back for centuries, and many wizards believe it was created to help them swim underwater-“

“Did you enjoy the show?”

His sudden question brings you out of your notes, and for the first time in a week, you take a look at him.

He’s studying you fiercely, eyes piercing into the depths of your soul.

“What show?” You ask in confusion, not understanding how this could possibly be related to your project.

“I don’t usually like an audience when I’m trying to help someone on the brink of their climax,” he says unabashedly. Your breath catches in your throat. “I find that I don’t mind it when it’s you though.”

“I think we should focus on the project, Nana,” you whisper, not realizing how easily the nickname has slipped from your lips.

“You’re still going to call me that?” He asks, eyes unexpectedly clouded with fury. “Still going to act like the innocent girl when you played the little voyeur for me?”

“Jaemin,” you say quietly, your body flaring with an equal weight of lust and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on you and Seojeong.”

He scoffs. “You think I care about her? I bet you pictured yourself in her place, hm? Begging for me to help you cum, looking so desperate for me in a public space,” he laughs, keeping his voice low for only you to hear his crude words. He drinks in your appalled expression. “What? Do you miss when I was the nice boy for you, helping you grab a book when you couldn’t reach it on your own? Chasing after you with my tail tucked between my legs?”

He moves his chair until he’s seated right beside you, hand resting on the inside of your thigh. You jolt at the contact, praying he doesn’t discover your wetness soaking through your panties.

“Or do you like it better when I’m straightforward like this? Telling you exactly how I want you?”

His face is inches from yours, and you can feel his breath hitting your cheek. If you move just a little closer, you could probably kiss him-

Another hand suddenly grabs your elbow, pulling you away from Jaemin’s hold.

“Get away from her!” Jimin growls while Doyeon starts to collect your things, shoving it in your bag hurriedly.

“Don’t even think about touching her again.”

Your friends whisk you away from the table, leaving Jaemin with a raging hard-on and eyes full of determination.

—

You’re in your seventh year when you desperately want Na Jaemin to kiss you.

The tables have turned quite exceptionally. Contrary to previous years, you find yourself pursuing the Slytherin boy.

After last year’s encounter in the library, you convinced Doyeon and Jimin that Jaemin’s advances were wanted by you. You had to sit them down and explain to them that yes, your questions about sex were Jaemin-related and no, they did not have to act like your moms all the time. They still held their reservations when it came to Jaemin and you, and you couldn’t blame them. Your history together was confusing to say the least, but now you could actually say you were starting to recognize the feelings you had for him.

The only problem was that Jaemin seemed to lose all interest in you.

Jimin relayed to you the information about Jaemin ceasing all communication with the girls he normally hooked up with, which you took as a good sign, but was disappointed when he made no advances to contact you again.

You failed your Charms project with him because you two couldn’t find the courage to approach one another to resume the study. Instead, you threw heart eye glances to him for the rest of the term, which he easily ignored.

You shyly approach Jeno and Donghyuck on the first day of seventh year.

“I’m sorry, what? Did you just say that you like Jaemin?”

Donghyuck is incredulous, rubbing his eyes and hitting his ears to make sure he’s seeing and hearing you correctly.

Beside him, Jeno simply smirks in understanding. “I was wondering when you’d finally admit it.”

You cower underneath their stares. “I was just going to ask if either of you know if Jaemin likes me too. I don’t think he does anymore so I want to get confirmation.”

Donghyuck laughs. “Are you kidding me? The kid moans your name in his sleep so I think it’s safe to say-“

He yelps when Jeno pinches his side, glaring at him.

“What this idiot is trying to say is that yes, Jaemin likes you. He’s only liked you since we arrived at Hogwarts and we fear he’ll only like you until he dies. I don’t know why you would think otherwise,” Jeno hums, eyebrow raised in questioning.

“Well,” you drone, twiddling your thumbs nervously. “He hasn’t talked to me at all since last year and he doesn’t treat me like he used to. He’s completely iced me out.”

Donghyuck laughs again. “Doubt that. Remember just yesterday when he accidentally said her name when he was talking to Minjeong?”

Jeno pinches his side once more and Donghyuck whines painfully in exaggeration.

“Again, what this idiot is trying to say is that maybe Jaemin is waiting for you to make the first move. He’s made his intentions pretty clear, you know, so I think the ball’s in your court.”

You ponder over Jeno’s words all week, eyes drifting to Jaemin’s figure more than you would possibly admit during classes. Doyeon and Jimin speak the Gryffindor bravery into you as you proceed towards his table in the library — the same table he cornered you at last year.

“Hi,” you squeak, fingers gripping your books to your chest for dear life.

He looks up at you, facial expression remaining neutral.

“Hi.”

“Can I- um, can I sit here?”

He nods and you take the seat beside him. Your whole body is nearly shaking from anxiety but you push through it.

“I wanted to talk to you because- well, I talked to Jeno and Donghyuck and they made me realize that it was my turn to talk to you first. I know things have been weird since the Hyojung incident and I wanted you to know I don’t blame you for that at all! I know it sounded like I was blaming you but then I realized it was just a misunderstanding and I was so overwhelmed by my emotions-“

He places a hand on your arm, stopping your rambling from continuing.

“Take a deep breath,” he says, thumb rubbing circles on your skin in comfort. “Relax. It’s just me.”

You huff and shake your head. “But that’s why I can’t relax. Because it’s you.”

His fingers move to brush the stray hairs from your face, slowly advancing downwards to caress your cheek. You recognize the slightest hint of a smirk ghosting his lips.

“Yeah? You get nervous because of me?”

You nod sheepishly. “You always make me nervous, Nana.”

His eyes darken at the nickname. “You know, you’re the only one who still calls me that.”

“Oh,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, should I stop saying it?”

Your breath hitches when his fingers trail across your bottom lip.

“You never answered my question.”

“H-Huh?”

“About whether you liked me when I was following you around like a pathetic little boy or when I’m direct with my feelings like this,” he murmurs, thumb resting on your tongue. “Suck.”

You almost moan at the instruction, wrapping your lips around the digit. Jaemin curses under his breath, drinking in your innocent eyes blinking back at him.

You pull away to respond. “I like you. I don’t care what you do — I just like you.”

“Aren’t you the fucking sweetest?” He grunts, no longer able to hold himself back as he lunges forward.

You gasp and place a hand on his chest before his lips could collide with yours.

“I-I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

He pulls back, eyebrows furrowed. “But you and Shotaro-“

“We just held hands,” you say meekly, ashamed to admit your lack of experience. “It felt too weird to kiss him.”

He suddenly stands and begins to gather his things, and your shoulders deflate. He probably doesn’t want to be with you anymore now that he knows you’re the virgin who’s never been kissed.

You’re surprised when his hand wraps around yours and he tugs you along. He pulls you out of the library and you try your best to keep up with him.

“Jaemin, where are we going?”

You seem to get your answer when you land in front of the Slytherin dorms. Jaemin quietly mutters the password to enter and you find yourself being led to a grand staircase, realizing he’s bringing you to his dorm room.

“Hey! She can’t be here!” A voice calls from the bottom of the staircase. You’re about to excuse yourself out of humiliation but Jaemin’s grip tightens on your hand.

“Go fuck yourself, Doyoung.”

“Na Jaemin!”

Once you enter Jaemin’s room, you blink at the sight of Yangyang and Donghyuck sitting on the floor, playing a game of Exploding Snap.

“Get out,” Jaemin barks.

They look up and frown, eyes moving back and forth from him to you.

“But it’s nearly midnight-“

“Get the fuck out.”

They both grumble, taking their card game and exiting the room.

“You didn’t have to kick them out,” you start to mumble, but shriek when his hand wraps around your waist, pulling your body to his.

His nose brushes against yours, and you squirm in his hold. He looks so pretty up close, and you ponder if anyone could be more perfect than him.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You still want to?”

“I’ve always wanted to, sweetheart.”

You stutter. “O-Okay.”

Your first kiss is magical. Jaemin’s lips are so soft against yours, and you melt underneath his touch. At first, the kiss is delicate and gentle, with him holding you like you could break at any second. Then, the kiss shifts into something more carnal and desperate, the weight of his body pressing closer and closer to you. His tongue begs for entrance past your lips and you easily grant it, allowing him to nearly swallow you whole.

You rub your thighs together desperately. “Nana,” you whimper.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

You have no idea how to tell him what you want, so you decide to show him instead. You grab his hand and move it until it disappears underneath your skirt, hovering dangerously close to your core.

He chuckles into your mouth. “Maybe we should take it slow. You just had your first kiss.”

“But I want more,” you whine. “I want what you gave to Seojeong.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You have no idea what you do to me.” His head moves downwards to press kisses along the side of your neck. “I dreamed of doing this to you nearly every night. I always wondered what pretty sounds you would make for me.”

“Wait,” you stop him and he stills, lips a few inches away from grazing your collarbone. You timidly ask, “Can I be your girlfriend?”

He smiles, raising his head to peck your lips. “You’re so perfect. You can be whatever you want, baby. I’ll buy a ring for you tomorrow if you want it.”

You giggle. “Quit teasing me.”

“It’s cute that you think I’m teasing,” he hums, voice filled with mischief. “It’s cute that you think I wouldn’t get on my knees for you and do whatever you asked.”

You swallow when he does, in fact, get on his knees for you. He pushes up your skirt so that he’s staring directly at your pretty pink panties, all cotton with a little bow in the front. You wish you had worn a sexier pair today, but you would never have guessed you’d be in this position.

You squeak when his mouth messily envelops your cunt, his tongue desperately pushing against the fabric.

You hear him grunt. “Smell so good, baby. Your pussy’s dripping for me.” His fingers hook onto the sides of your underwear, pulling it down your thighs slowly. “Do you touch yourself, sweetheart?”

You flounder. “I tried once,” you confess shakily. “I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

“Oh yeah?” He purrs, running a finger through your folds, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. “When did that happen?”

You struggle to piece a sentence together. “The n-night after I caught you and S-Seojeong. I couldn’t stop t-thinking about it.”

He clicks his tongue. “Dirty girl. You touched yourself thinking about me pleasuring someone else? You liked watching us, didn’t you?”

You whimper. “You were right — I wanted to be her so badly.”

You cry when his mouth wraps around your clit, sucking tightly. You almost fold in on yourself but Jaemin steadies you, hands gripping the back of your thighs to make sure you stay in place.

“Nana,” you beg. “That feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

However, he does withdraw himself from your cunt, evoking a mewl from you.

“No, no, please-“

He guides you towards the bed and you tilt your head in confusion when he lays down first, gesturing for you to join him.

“Come here, baby. Sit on my face.”

You blink. “W-What? That’s dangerous!”

He laughs. “Trust me, dying while eating your pussy is probably the best way to go.”

You hesitate. “Nana…”

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It’ll feel really good, I promise. And if I drown in your cunt then you can cast that Bubble-Head Charm to save me.”

“Nana!”

You decide to trust him after a brief deliberation, awkwardly maneuvering your way onto the bed and hovering over his face.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Instead of verbally responding, he grabs a handful of your ass and plants you down until your core sits directly on his mouth. You frantically reach for the headboard to steady yourself, unable to stop the moans crawling out of your throat.

He eats you like you’re his last meal, tongue lapping at your folds and sucking on your clit. You’ve never been touched like this before — never been wanted so desperately by a man who’s willing to cut off his source of breathing just to get a taste of you. You move one hand to grip at his hair, tugging at the strands whenever a sensation grows to be too much for you.

Jaemin is locked in on a mission to get you to your orgasm. The idea of him being the first person to help you reach your climax is so incredibly arousing that he could honestly cum untouched.

You gasp when pleasure spreads across your entire body, accidentally rolling your hips to ride Jaemin’s tongue. He moans in encouragement, using his hands to guide you as you use him like a toy.

“J-Jaemin-“

He sucks your clit hard, and that sends you over. Frantic whimpers spill from your lips as you release onto his awaiting tongue. Your thighs tremble from the intensity of your orgasm, all while Jaemin laps at your gushing wetness.

The pleasure shifts to discomfort from oversensitivity and he finally allows you to draw back. You grow flustered when you pull away and see the smear of your arousal covering his face. He eagerly licks his lips and sighs in content.

Your embarrassment multiplies tenfold when you realize what you’ve done, frantically shuffling away and pulling your underwear back up your legs.

“Where are you going, baby?” He murmurs, wrapping a hand around your wrist and pulling you back to the bed. Your back meets his chest and he hums, pressing kisses to your throat.

“T-That was s-so-“

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Are you feeling dirty now that you let a silly boy eat your little cunt?”

You squirm. “Jaemin-“

He shushes you gently. “Poor baby. You want a little more? I know your pussy’s aching for it.”

Your eyes trail downwards to the bulge in his slacks, looking like he’s about to burst through the seams.

“Will it hurt?” You ask softly, feeling slightly intimidated.

“A little bit, but I’ll help you through it.”

You nod. “O-Okay.”

He starts to move you so that you’re lying down on the bed, but you wrap a hand around his to stop him.

“Can we stay like this? I like it when you hold me this way.”

His arm snakes around your middle and he tugs you closer. “Of course, baby. You’re going to have to be patient, okay? Just take a deep breath and trust me.”

You whine when his fingers dance around the inside of your thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Have to stretch you first or else it’s going to hurt more, okay?”

You tentatively nod and he takes your panties off for good, flinging them across the room. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm so you nearly blubber when he pushes a finger inside of your dripping hole. The sensation feels both foreign and otherworldly, almost like an itch you’ve been dying to scratch. You cry when he curls his finger, sending shockwaves up your spine.

He tilts your head to the side so he can plant another kiss to your lips. He distracts you from a second finger joining the first as he slowly thrusts both up into you.

“Doing perfect, sweetheart,” he sighs into your mouth. “So so perfect for me. Going to add one more, alright?”

“Okay, Nana.”

He whispers more praises in your ear while you somehow find a way to fit three of his fingers inside your tight pussy. You roll your hips to feel more of him, completely stuffed full.

“That’s a good girl. Ride my fingers, baby.”

Your body reacts before your mind does, lewdly dripping down his hand as you chase another impending orgasm. Your mind is clouded by a haze of lust, feeling like an animal in heat with the way you eagerly push onto his digits.

“I think I’m gonna-“

“I know, baby. Go ahead, I’m right here,” he coaxes.

All it takes is a few more twists of your hips and his thumb flicking over your abused clit for you to cum. You shudder, cunt pulsing around him as you come down from your high. You whimper when he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking up remnants of your wetness.

“How did that feel?”

You squeak. “It felt good.”

He smiles and kisses you once more. “Pretty girl. Want to take my cock now?”

You nod shyly, allowing him to unzip his pants and unsheath his length. Your eyes widen slightly at the size of him, his cock angrily red and tip leaking.

“That looks like it hurts,” you comment on his swelling shaft as he adjusts your bodies so that your cunt is hovering over him.

“It does, sweetheart. And you’re the only one who can make it better. Now take a deep breath for me.” You obey his command, inhaling and exhaling slowly to prepare yourself. He turns your head again to look at him. “You don’t have to say it back, but I love you, okay? Loved you since our first year here. Want to make this feel good for you.”

Your eyes suddenly well with tears. “I love you too, Nana. And I trust you, more than anyone else.”

His grin is blinding and his lips smack against yours, the tip of his cock slowly pushing into your waiting cunt. You painfully whine and he holds you tighter, reminding you to relax and breathe. He drives you lower and lower until you’re nearly halfway down his cock, and you gasp loudly. His thumb returns to your clit, circling the bud gently to help you along.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?”

You shake your head. “Y-Yeah, keep going, Nana.”

He sings praises in your ear until he’s bottomed out and you were definitely wrong before — this is what it feels like to be completely stuffed full. He lets you adjust to his size until your tiny cries of discomfort shift into whimpers of pleasure.

“Going to start moving now. Tell me if it’s too much, baby.”

He gives an experimental thrust that has you moaning.

“Good, good,” you breathe, encouraging him to keep going.

He starts pushing into you gradually, groaning at the feeling of your warm walls wrapped tightly around his cock.

“I’m not going to last, baby.”

You squeal when his thrusts increase speed, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

“Ungh, ungh, ungh-“

Vulgar sounds echo in the tiny dorm room with your wetness leaking down Jaemin’s cock and his skin slapping against yours forcefully. You feel like you could easily come again, but your mind screams at you that something’s missing.

“Nana?”

He’s drilling into you now, trying his best to move you up and down his cock at a rapid pace.

“Yeah, baby- fuck,” he hisses, not knowing if you realize how your pussy constantly clenches around him. “What is it?”

“Can you kiss me?”

He swears he’s been blessed by Merlin himself to have a girl as sweet as you. He grants your wish, enveloping his lips with yours and swirling his tongue inside your mouth sloppily.

The simple gesture is enough to serve as the snap to your third orgasm. He moans when he feels your cunt spasm, and he finally releases his warm seed deep into your womb.

You both try to catch your breath as you come down from your high. He kisses you again, and it’s a messy mix of saliva and tongues, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I really liked that,” you confess, and he laughs.

“Good, because we’re going to be doing it a lot from now on. I’m not wasting any more time with you.”

—

You’re about to graduate from Hogwarts when Doyeon and Jimin can’t find you.

You’re meant to be boarding the enchanted boats soon — a ritual that all seventh years take during the end of their Hogwarts stay. All three of you promised to take a boat together, but your two friends can’t seem to find you anywhere.

“Do you think she got kidnapped?”

“Why do you always jump to kidnapping?” Jimin sighs exasperatedly. “I bet you Jaemin just couldn’t take his paws off of her.”

And they would be very correct as Na Jaemin is currently pounding you in the Charms classroom, fingers crumpling your skirt as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy.

“W-We’re gonna m-miss the boats,” you moan, clutching your desk and whining pathetically.

“Don’t give a fuck. You’re the one who wouldn’t let me get my share of this pussy last night.”

“I was hanging out with Doyeon and Jimin! It was our last night in the castle together.”

“Yeah, just like it’s my last time getting to fuck you in this classroom.”

He thrusts into the particular spot that has you keening, back arched as you moan loudly. Usually, your boyfriend would try to keep you quiet, but considering today’s your last day of schooling, he doesn’t see the point.

What could they do, expel you? You already finished all of your exams.

A screech erupts in the doorway and he hears Jimin’s infuriated voice.

“I told you! Jaemin, give the girl a break!”

You cry as you reach your climax, squirting all over Jaemin’s cock and scattering your wetness across the floor. He groans and buries himself deep inside of you, spurting ropes of his cum until his cock begs him for some rest.

“They say when you raise kids that you should expect the day they disappoint you. I didn’t know that this is what they meant,” Doyeon sighs.

You quickly fumble to pull on your skirt and Jaemin tucks himself back into his slacks.

“It smells awful in here! How long have you two been going at it?” Jimin hisses, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“A couple of hours,” he replies with a smirk, wincing when you hit his chest as a warning.

You shakily stand and try to make yourself look presentable. “I’ll be right there!” You call out to your friends, ignoring the perturbed look on their faces. You would normally be ashamed, but that feeling disappeared months ago when they constantly caught you and Jaemin fucking in almost every inch of the castle.

Before you can leave, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in for another kiss.

“I’ll see you on the train, baby?”

“You can’t fuck her on the train!”

You both breeze past Jimin’s comment.

“I’ll see you there. Love you.”

“Love you. And hey, I think you’re pretty.”

You giggle and press your lips to his again.

Doyeon and Jimin take you away before the kiss can progress into another round of fucking.

#nct smut #jaemin #jaemin smut

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