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mysicklove · 7 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃

DAY 16: PILLOW HUMPING + PHONE SEX

With: Tamaki Amajiki

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Sub! Top! Tamaki, bottom! gn! reader, praise kink, slight breeding kink, reader is a slight tease and tamaki is trying not to pass out from embaressment, fantasies, creampie in fantasy Y/N? does that need a tag?

A/N: another fic i STRUGGLED with. idk whyyyy.

Tamaki knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows that if anyone ever saw him, he would be deemed a weirdo, a pervert, really. But it was just so hard.

It's not fair that you left him alone. Its not fair that you made him miss you until his heart ached. It's not fair that you havent touched him in longer than three weeks. Its not fair that he is here, straddling a pillow, while you probably aren't even thinking of him at all.

The whole thing makes him fume red. Humping a pillow was as desperate as it gets. His hand wasnt doing it for him anymore, he needs to move his hips, pretend he is fucking something. It was bound to give him more satisfaction. Or he hoped it did, but it doesnt change the fact that it was embarrassing.

The pillow was soft, but sturdy, and held a bit of stability. It wouldn't crumble against the sheets with each thrust, nor be too feathery to really feel anything. A good pillow – it will work fine.

He wears one of your shirts. An oversized one, that seems to drown him with the fabric. It smelled like you, and he has to refrain from pressing the collar of it against his nose. It would only turn him on more, and thats not what he needed right now.

Tamaki's hands tremble as he adjusts himself. He flips the hem of your shirt upward to give himself a view of his thin cock. Its red, and pulsing, ready for him to begin moving. He brings his hands up to his face, covering it with the back of his palm. “So embarrassing,” He whines into the empty room, but not moving from his position on top of the pillow.

He stables himself, and then very hesitantly drags his hips forward. The bottom of his dick grazes against the pillow and he takes a deep breath. Its soft, slightly cold from the lack of human contact with it, but he doesnt mind warming it up. He grinds himself forward again, his two hands gripping at the front of the pillow to slightly pull it up, giving him more area to brush himself on.

He whimpers, closing his eyes and falling into a steady pace. It's not as pleasurable as he wanted it to be, and it was driving him insane. But he liked the feeling of riding something, and he pretended the pillow was you. The thought spurs him on, and his pace begins to pick up. The movements of his hips are short, quick, and he slightly bounces on it. Tamakis breath becomes short, and he sighs into the open air, throwing his head back and humping whatever surface of the soft fabric he could.

A couple minutes go by and he was on the verge of crying from frustration. It barely made him feel any better, and he was going to have to be here for awhile if he wanted to cum. He grabs onto your shirt and brings it up to his nose, inhaling your scent and groaning into the fabric. It made him feel a bit better.

Suddenly, he hears the familiar vibrations from his phone. He was getting a call, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to someone. But, he wasn't one to ignore something that could be important. So, he leans forward and flips over the phone. When he sees your name with an abundance of heart emojis that you typed in for your own contant info, his eyes light up.

He inches toward the answer button, but pauses for a second, realizing the position he is in. It was definitely not appropriate to talk to you like this, but he wanted desperately to hear your voice. It was gross and pathetic, but didnt you say you like when he acts pathetic? Besides, you could definitely fix his problem. You know exactly what to do to make him feel good.

So he answers the phone, and waits for you to speak.

“Hey love,” You hum through his phone, and he almost whines out from that alone. He glances back down at his cock, a glob of precum dripping down pathetically onto the pillow. He covers his face in embarrassment.

“Hi Y/N,” He mumbles into the mic, staring at his fingers, and doing anything he can to ignore his cock. He wants to ask you for help, but how? Even after all this time of being together, he has never voiced his sexual wants and needs. It was just too hard to, and besides you always seemed to find out his desires one way or another.

“Whatcha up to?”

Tamaki pauses. Lying was definitely not one of his specialties, and to you? He was a goner for sure. He goes silent for longer than 30 seconds. “Tamaki?”

“Something I shouldn't be doing,” He whispers, falling forward to rest his cheek on the mattress. He still lays straddling the pillow, but now his cock was trapped between his stomach, and the pillow.

A slight giggle comes from the phone, and he gulps, ignoring the way his dick twitches. “Are you doing something naughty?”

Naughty. Such a childish word, but it was the perfect adjective to describe his situation. It made him feel small, and strangely it brought comfort to him. He nods into the mattress, his hips moving without his permission, and continuing their grinding movements.

“You've gotta speak up for me, love.”

He may be shy, but he would never dare to not listen to a command. “Yes. Sorry.”

“Yes what?”

He lets out a small whimper, barely audible over the phone. “‘m doing something…naughty.”

The dark haired boy squirms on the bed, listening to the way you inhale sharply. His hands begin to travel downward, but he stops himself before he could start stroking himself off. “What are you doing, love?”

He goes silent for a couple seconds, and he continues to shift around the bed. He gulps and looks down at his leaking cock, and then away. “I’m….I’m humping a…pillow?”

You let out a dramatic, slightly teasing gasp. “So dirty, Tamaki!”

He wants to curl up into a ball and die from embarrassment. He knows you are just poking fun at him, but truly everything about this was so humiliating. “I-I know! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just miss you so much!” He warbles into the mic, wiping away a stray tear before it could fall.

He was so unbelievably cute, and his plea made your heart throb. “S’alright, relax, love. I miss you so much. So so much,” You reassure, closing your eyes to listen to his breathing. ‘

You hear a sniffle on the other end of the phone. “Why are you crying?”

You expected to hear a response declaring how much he missed seeing you, or having you around. Or maybe how lonely he felt. What you didn't expect was for him to say, “‘m not crying! Im frustrated because I cant cum!”

Tamaki being blunt about his needs was unheard of, and the shock of it made you bark a laugh. He shakes his head into the mattress, but begins his humping again. You already knew at this point what he was doing, and he was already as embarrassed as it gets, so he rather search for more pleasure than wither is his own misery.

“Well are you doing it right?”

He pauses his movements. Was there a right or wrong way to do it? His horny brain was screaming at him to just get any sort of friction from the white item, but was there a better way to do it? To feel more pleasurable? “I-I dont know…”

“Aren't you pretending that I'm the pillow?” Your words make him yelp, and you hold back a snicker. You were right of course, but the fact that you knew about it made him want to dig himself a hole to hide in.

But nevertheless, his hips havent stopped their movements. Its a slow pace, just enough to make his breaths heavier. “Yeah,” He breathes into the mic, so quite that you almost missed it.

You hum to yourself, hand traveling over your own body to get yourself in the mood. “Then you need a hole to fuck, dont you, pretty boy?”

The statement causes him to lose his breath and he can't think quick enough to find a response. You continue on, “Put two pillows together so that you can get friction on both sides of your pretty little cock. It will feel so much better,” You encourage, and his eyes instantly travel to the extra pillow just inches away from him. He gulps, but grabs onto it, and places it under his lower stomach and on top of his dick.

“N-Now what?”

“It's not rocket science, silly. Fuck it now. But make sure to keep the pillow beneath your stomach, so that the hole is tighter.”

He blushes at his stupid words, but instead focuses on your advice. He pulls out, and then pushes himself back into the two soft cushions. He groans out, and sets the phone on speaker and places it next to his face. This was way better, and he needed to focus.

You hear his breaths get quicker and you smile. “There ya are. Does it feel better, Tamaki?”

He uses his hands to push the pillows together, creating a even smaller hole. But he nods at your words, staring at your profile picture with tears in his eyes. “W-Wish it was you. Not as tight…Warm.”

You hands travel toward your pants at the words. “Yeah? Use your imagination, love. Pretend that's me, what do you want to do with me?”

His whole body caves over on himself, and he bucks his hips frantically. His face is a bright shade of pink, and he wears a wobbly, but content smile. “Wanna—Wanna….You to tell me what to do,” He whines out, fingers dragging along the beds sheets, wishing it was your back.

You snicker at him, not surprised by his words. “You are hopeless, Tamaki. So submissive, its so cute, you know that? You know how cute you are?”

He covers his face with his arm, moaning and whining into the soft skin. “Stop it…” He mumbles half heartedly, loving every drop of praise from your mouth.

“You love it,” You tease, and he secretly nods into the bedsheets, but not daring to tell you. “Alright, let's have you cum, hmm? Can you close your eyes for me?”

His eyes flutter shut before you could even finish your sentence. “‘kay.”

“Good job,” You murmur, and he gulps, nuzzling his face into the bed, pretending it’s your chest. “Now move your hips for me. In and out, yeah?.”

He doesn’t have to do much, considering that he has been doing this exact same movement for the past couple minutes now. He doesn’t say anything, afraid you may poke fun at him again. “Tamakiiiii,” You purr, “I need to hear a response.”

“Sorry. Yes, yes, I‘m doing it. Promise!” He splutters, trying to maintain a steady pace of breathing. It was feeling so much better with both sides hugging him, but your voice was definitely helping as well.

You let out a breath, and smile. “Good boy. Now, tell me, what are you imagining. Wanna hear the specifics, love.”

He whines at this. He didnt want to expose his thoughts; you would definitely think he was weird. A pervert who cant go a couple weeks without cumming. “Nooooo,” He whimpers, eyes still shut. “So embarrassing.”

Your voice turns commanding in an instant. “Oh? Stop moving then.”

Unwillingly he listens, his body so used to listening to your commands, that he doesn't even process what you said until he stopped his hips. He groans into the sheets, and feels his cock twitch within the pillows. It doesn't want to stop. “Noooo,” He complains once more, hating the way tears begin to build up, and threaten to spill over his closed eyes.

Your heart throbs at the small whimpers he lets out, and your strict tone seems to melt away. “You have to listen if you want to cum, baby. I know its embarrassing, but I want you to feel good. Dont be shy, I won't judge you.”

You hear a sniffle from the other end of the phone. “Okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. C-Can I move now? I'll tell you my…my fantasy.”

You hum encouragingly at him, and he takes it as a yes, slowly beginning to move his hips again. He sighs at the softness, nodding his head to himself. But, he doesn't get too lost in his pleasure, he has to hold up the end of the bargain. “I-Im pretended the pillow is you.”

You roll your eyes slightly, a grin on your face. He was obviously nervous if he was stating the obvious. “Yeah? Are you fucking me nice and hard?”

Your words are so lewd and he fumes red at them. “U-Um…Yeah. Y-You feel so good.” Referring to the makeshift hole as you, makes him feel slightly bad. He knows you are may more than that to him. But it was obvious that you were trying to initiate some sort of phone sex, and he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Your fingers travel down to your pants, and you finally get comfortable. You begin to touch yourself, trying to imagine yourself into his fantasy. “So deep Tamaki,” You purr, sighing into the mic.

His eyes widen for a split second, but he quickly shuts them again. At your words, he finds himself thrusting himself deeper into the hole, mewling out as pre covers the soft fabric. He finds himself imagining you beneath him, grinning up at him with a flushed out, but cocky grin.

“Fuck,” He whispers gently to the image of you. “I missed you so much. So so much.”

“Missed you too,” You murmur, throwing your head back slightly. “Doing so well for me.”

His hips stutters at the praise, and he gulps. Whenever you praise him, it sends his head spinning, and he loves it more than anything. “F-For you. Only for you!”

The position he was in was so lewd. His mouth slightly gnawing on his hand, his hips thrusting into two pillows, and his body a bright shade of pink. The bed was even creaking from his intense movements, but he didnt seem to care. “P-Praise me…More, please?”

“You're doing so good. Making me feel so good, Tamaki. Are you going to make me cum?”

He nods his head frantically, loving the idea more than anything. To make himself cum was one thing, but making you feel good enough to cum was a whole other thing. It made the service sub in him preen, and his thrusts are more desperate now. He imagines you shivering, and moaning into his neck, maybe even leaving scratch marks down his back. “Yes. Yes, I'll make you cum. I'll make you feel so good, please!”

You smile lazily at the wall. “Such a good boy. I'm so lucky to have such a pretty and obedient boyfriend.”

A wobbly smile is tugging at his face, and he feels like a schoolgirl. Giddy, and nervous around you and your voice. He swears the fantasy becomes more surreal. The pillow seems to be hugging him just how you would, and in the back of his mind he can hear the slapping of skin upon skin. “I love you. I love you so much, you feel so good. I can't hold it much longer!”

“Aw are you going to cum already?” You tease, feeling your own high approaching rapidly.

At the words he lets out a dramatic whine, feeling guilty. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Y-You just…oh god. Feel so good!” He warbles, shaking hands gripping onto the phone. He spreads his legs out wider, finding a new position to thrust his hips. His hair begins to stick to his head, and with every breath, a moan slips past his lips.

You are on the same page, hands moving quicker to hopefully match his high. “Its alright. Im going to cum to. Are you going to cum inside me? Wanna fill me up?”

He heaves at your words, hearts in his eyes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. He did desperately. It was way better than pulling out, or cumming into the condom. “Please! Please!”

His moans are high in pitch now, and his pace is sporatic. They are frantic though, and the entire bed shakes with his fierce movements.

“Good boy. Cum inside me then,” You purr directly into the mic, and his eyes fly open when he cums. He lets out a high pitched scream, and bites his hand to try and stay quite. The boys hips ram into the pillow, and his thoughts are cloudy, thinking about how deep he must be cumming in you. His whole body is shivering in pleasure, and he wears a small smile.

You cum a moment later, shaking and sighing, but not making as much noise as your beloved. You didnt mind, his high pitched moans and screams were cute, you just wished he got over that stupid need to bite his hand whenever he cums. It muffles them way too much for your liking.

Post nut clarity hits Tamaki like a truck and his face turns a bright shade of red. Asking you to praise him, and even begging to cum “inside” you? Humiliating.

“I know what you are thinking, love. Dont be embarrassed. It was fun. Good. What lovers do,” You reassure, knowing his anxiety gets the better of him.

He takes comfort in your words immediately, slightly nodding to himself and trying to think of something else to hopefully die down the embaressment. He feels exhausted, and instead focuses on that. He pulls out of the pillows with a sigh and brings the phone to his face to begin wishing you goodnight.

His eyes widen when he realizes something, and he lets out a dramatic gasp.

The sound makes you perk up, and you are on immediate alert. “Whats wrong?”

“Oh no. This is bad. What do I do now?” He begins to mumble, eyes scanning across the bed.

“What? What happened?” You question more frantically now, pulling the phone closer to your ear.

It goes silent on the other end for about thirty seconds. He pulls away the two pillows and gulps as his stares at his own product. This was bad. Truly a problem.

“What am I supposed to sleep on tonight?”

It takes everything in you to not hang up on him.

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illyrianbitch · 1 month

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What We Make of What We’re Made

Pairing: Acheron!Reader x Azriel

Summary: When Azriel overhears Feyre's concern about your transition to fae life, he agrees to check on you.

Warnings: mentions of previous trauma and hardship, fluff :)

Word Count: 3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“I’m worried about her, Rhys. Really worried.”

Although Feyre’s voice was quiet, Azriel could sense the worry that coated it from where he stood down the hallway, the sound of her voice leaking through the cracked door of Rhysand’s office. It was a quiet morning, lazy almost, as Azriel walked around the townhouse. His shadows danced along the walls next to him, matching the pace of his walking as he approached the open door.

“Worried about who?”

Feyre let out a small sound of surprise, turning her head towards where Azriel now stood, a delicate hand flying to place itself above her heart. Even with the time that passed, she never quite got used to how stealthy the shadowsinger could be, how easily he was able to quiet the sounds of his own footsteps with the lively shadows he called his own.

“Oh, Azriel,” Feyre said, giving him a small, soft smile. “Good morning.”

Az gave her a quick smile back, dipping his head ever-so-slightly in a gentle greeting. His gaze bounced between her and Rhys, who gave him a simple raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

“Who are you worried about?” Azriel asked again.

Rhys and Feyre exchanged a meaningful glance, and then Feyre let out a small sigh, turning to look at Azriel once more. There was a small furrow in her brow as she fiddled with her fingers.

"Y/n," she confessed.

Azriel’s face softened, his mouth turning into a small downturned frown. He felt a subtle shift in his shadows, as if they had responded to the sound of your name. Faintly, he felt their airy, cool, touch on his body as their large mass rose up his arms. He felt them settle at his shoulders, perched— alert, almost– as if they, too, were attuned to the conversation.

"I see.”

"Feyre is concerned that she may be having a harder time becoming fae than she has let on," Rhysand explained.

The crease between Azriel’s brows grew deeper as his gaze flickered between the two before him.

"Why?”

Feyre sighed again, giving a small shrug. There was a certain look in her eyes, a look that Azriel traced back to the day the King of Hybern turned you and your sisters into fae— forced you into fae. It was a look he was familiar with, one he often wore himself: guilt.

It was no secret that Feyre felt responsible for what had happened to you and your sisters. Although she spent those first few months away, Feyre felt it in her heart, the struggle you had all experienced. And she felt the guilt even deeper knowing that she wasn’t there to help. She didn’t hide it as well as she thought she did, that certain fear that she clung to of her sisters never truly forgiving her for what she felt was a personal betrayal. Or, perhaps, Azriel was just too good at his job.

"I've barely seen her,” she said, “I know that Nesta and Elain are having a difficult time, but at least I can see them. Be near them—as much as Nesta may hate it."

Azriel blinked. And then an unfamiliar feeling began to gnaw at his heart. Feyre was right. You hadn’t been around recently. Az had noticed, of course, as he tended to keep track of those in his circle, of the people he was expected to protect— at least to a degree. And you had, indeed, been gone more often than you were home.

In fact, he struggled to remember the last time you sat with them for longer than a few minutes before rushing off. With a small exhale, Azriel sent a few of his shadows down his body and out the door, pushing them to check your bedroom and report back to him regarding anything that might be of use.

“Well, maybe we could send Azriel to check on her?”

The sound of Rhysand’s voice called Azriel’s attention back to the conversation, and he cleared his throat in hopes that the motion would clear his mind as well.

Feyre's eyes widened slightly as she brushed a gentle hand across Rhysand’s forearm, turning to look at Azriel with a faint smile. "That's a great idea. You've been so sweet to Elain, Az. Maybe you could help Y/n, too. Would you mind?"

Her voice held a note of hope and Az found himself nodding gently.

"Of course not," He replied, "But if she's struggling, am I really who she would want to see?"

Rhysand frowned slightly before looking down at his mate. But Feyre simply shook her head, offering a reassuring smile as she said, "I think you'd be a breath of fresh air.”

"And you could get a better read of where she's at,” Rhysand added, “Maybe how we can help.”

Azriel nodded once more. In the same moment, he felt a few of his shadows return, slowly snaking up his legs to join the mass near his shoulders. Your room was empty, as it turned out, and the bed was cold. Wherever you had gone, you’d left quite a while ago— and you left no notice of where it was that you were running off to.

"I'll find her," Azriel affirmed. With a final nod to Rhysand and Feyre, he turned and left the room, his shadows trailing behind him.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was nearing the later months of the year now, and there was a cool breeze that filled the air, not quite chilly enough to make him shiver, but enough of a nip to make the warmth of his leathers comforting. Azriel loved this time of year, loved the way the breeze kissed his cheeks and how refreshing it felt against his wings. It was a good time of year, a time to take a breath and prepare to start new— he quite loved the second part, the promise of a new start, of a chance to be better than who he was before.

Az slowly walked along the Sidra, his wings carefully and neatly tucked into his back. His posture was lazy, a small hunch in his shoulders as scanned his surroundings. He made himself as small as possible, not wanting to take up too much space, or worse, scare those around him. Specifically, he didn’t want to scare you if he happened to come across you.

But that was proving difficult at the moment. In truth, Az didn’t know where to look. His shadows were on alert, told to seek out any sign of you, any indication of where you might have disappeared to. He thought of all the quiet places nearby, of the corners in Velaris that may provide some darkness to shrewd in. But nothing quite came to mind. He let his thoughts wander as he continued his path.

Azriel felt guilty.

Sure, you weren’t his responsibility, but you were part of his family now— a sister of Feyre, of his High Lady. You were his to protect. And while Cassian had been working with Nesta, or attempting to and being shot down, Az had been tiptoeing around Elain when he wasn’t assessing the court for any more help needed for post-war rebuilding. Things had been quiet recently. And he had assumed, apparently wrongfully so, that you and your sisters would be able to properly acclimate now, to learn how to live as fae. He couldn’t speak much for Nesta, as she had distanced herself as soon as she could, but Elain— Elain had made slight progress. She was moving around the house, tending to her garden.

But you. You, he had not truly analyzed. There had been Nesta’s anger, Elain’s helplessness and utter fear, and you…. you had been silent. And ever since, you’d found something to busy yourself with— perhaps some distraction from the pain you’d forced yourself to deal with alone, he thought.

He should have kept a better eye. He had failed you, had failed his family.

He felt the faint, cool tug on his body, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Azriel clenched his teeth in frustration, stopping in his tracks as he looked down at his shadows once more, watching as few slithered towards the edge of the shops that lined the Sidra, the other shadows dancing around his wrists as if enticing him to follow.

He attempted to call them back, reel them in like energetic children, but they refused, continuing to veer off course and drawing his attention to a particular figure seated outside a quaint cafe. He threw the female a quick glance, taking in her sapphire coat and her hair tucked within it. He looked down at his shadows.

Stop it, Az scolded. Stay on track. Find Y/n.

But yet again, his shadows danced in between the cobblestoned roads towards the female.

She sat with her back to Az, her laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the chatter of the busy street. She was engaged in conversation with, who Az assumed was, the cafe owner, her gestures animated as the two talked.

Azriel paused. And then the female was moving her hands to her neck, lifting her hair and freeing it from where it lay underneath her coat. Instantly, a small breeze kissed Azriel’s nose, and he was hit with a scent of sweetness that had his wings falling slightly limp behind him.

It smelled like…you?

He slowly moved forward, brows furrowed together as he approached the female from behind.

The shop owner's conversation faltered as she took in Azriel's approaching figure, the words she had been speaking instantly dying off her tongue. Her eyes went wide for a moment before her face softened, and she offered a polite nod of acknowledgment.

From in front of him, you turned around, your head tilting up to meet Azriel’s eyes instantly.

And then you smiled.

His confusion deepened as he watched you, his previous expectations shattered by the sight of what Azriel could only describe as…joy.

“Azriel!” You said, “What are you doing here?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered between you and the shop owner as he swallowed.

“I-” He hesitated for a moment. His shadows danced around him. Happy, Joy, Content. “Feyre sent me.”

Your face fell into a small frown and you turned your head to face the shopkeeper once more.

“It was so nice talking with you, Liena,” you said softly, “And thank you so much for the treats.”

You motioned to a small empty plate before you, and the female smiled at you, leaning forward to grab it with her small hands. “Please come by anytime. We’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled at her, watching as she retreated back into her quaint little shop. Then, you turned to look up at Azriel once more.

“Feyre sent you?” You asked, “For me?”

Az nodded, eyes quickly flickering down to where his shadows seeped to trail near your ankles, he clenched his jaw slightly as he urged them to return, a sense of heated embarrassment filling his body— a sensation he wasn’t used to. Had never felt before, really.

“She's worried about you,” he finally managed to reply.

Az took a step back as you pushed your chair out, gently standing up and turning to face him. There was a gentle smile on your face, but your brows were furrowed as you stared at him through dark lashes. You brought your hand to your chest, hovering it over your heart. Just as Feyre does, Azriel noted. One and the same.

“She is?”

There was a trace of concern in your voice, but it wasn’t in the way he had expected. You seemed concerned that Feyre was worried— concerned as if she had no reason to be worrying at all. Azriel took a moment to scan your features, taking in your face, the way you stood, the clothes that adorned your figure.

You were beautiful, Azriel knew this. He had noticed it when he first met you and your sisters, standing with his brothers and Feyre. But comparing that female he first met to the one that now stood before him… the similarities were almost hard to find. You were glowing. There was a pink tint that coated your cheeks, the faint blush that painted your skin from the cool breeze. Your skin was full of color that had been missing those first few weeks after you’d been Made, and you wore a gentle smile that held a heavy warmth to it.

Happy, Joy, Content.

“She is,” he responded, “You’ve been gone a lot recently. She was concerned that you were struggling with being fae.”

You blinked, your mouth falling open slightly as you took in his words, and then your brows furrowed deeper.

“Oh my gods,” you said quietly, “I didn’t realize what Feyre might think.”

You let out a small sigh, gently tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. Azriel simply looked at you, his mind drawing blanks of what he could say. He couldn’t form the right words, at least not while his energy was being spent on pulling his shadows away from your body and back into his.

‘I know my sisters are struggling. And I was too,” you quickly added, “but I woke up one day and suddenly the sunshine seemed brighter and its rays were warmer, and all the sounds around me were more melodic than I’d ever heard.”

You stopped for a moment, grabbing a strand of your hair in your hands to twirl between your fingers before you continued. “I don’t know how else to describe it. And I didn’t want to be so happy around them. It felt wrong— like if I was betraying them somehow, for enjoying what we had been forced to become. So I stayed out of the house. At least, at the beginning. But now?”

You stopped again, but this time you made a soft gesture with your hand to your surroundings, too lost in your words to notice how a single shadow managed to hover around your extended hand. Azriel kept his gaze on you, unwavering and focused as you smiled once more, a small laugh leaving your lips. Without noticing, the corners of his lips turned up at the sound.

“Azriel, this city is beautiful. I would have never been able to experience something like this as human. We were unhappy, simply existing rather than living. But here? The food, the music, the energy.”

You fiddled with your hands as you shook your head gently, the smile never leaving your face.

“What happened to my family, to Nesta, to Elain, to Feyre,” you said, moving closer to look up at him. “It was cruel. And it wasn’t beautiful. But what I make of myself after it? That can be beautiful.”

There was something about the words that you spoke, how genuine your face was as you stared at him, that made Azriel’s heart clench. He felt silly, truly, for the sudden rush of emotion that washed over him like a tidal wave. You were happy, thriving even, and you’d been too worried about your sisters to share the joy. It was a different kind of selflessness than what he’d grown accustomed to seeing, a kind that he’d only seen in one other recently— your sister. His High Lady.

Happy, Joy, Content. His shadows sang once again. Happy, Joy, Content.

“I’m sorry Feyre sent you all this way for nothing. “

“No,” Azriel quickly said, much faster than he intended to. His gaze casted down towards the outstretched hand that he had instinctively placed on your shoulder. He quickly retracted it, not failing to notice the small frown that passed through your features. “It wasn’t a waste.”

You gave him a small laugh. “Well, anyways. I’m sorry for spewing that all onto you like some sick toddler. Thank you for coming to find me. It was very sweet.”

You cleared your throat, taking a step back.

“Please let Feyre know I’m alright and that I’ll be back tonight. But I’d like to explore a bit more. The weather is perfect today. Something about how…” You trailed off for a moment, looking up at the skies above you, closing your eyes for a second as a trail of wind swept past your face.

“The way the breeze kisses your cheeks?” Azriel said, his voice quiet and unsure. Where those words came, and what overcame him to say them, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t feel like questioning them— not now, anyways.

You opened your eyes and looked at him once more. “Yes. Exactly.”

A small cool touch drew your attention down to your feet, your eyes watching as small, opaque tendrils of black shadows danced between you and Azriel. You admired them for a moment, and Az took in how excited your eyes were as you traced their motions.

“Well,” you said, straightening yourself up. “Thank you again for coming to find me. I’ll let you get back to your day.”

You gave a small nod before you were turning yourself around and walking towards the lively streets. As Azriel watched his shadows trail after you, he found himself calling out to your retreating form, “Y/n.”

You stopped. And then you turned to face him, arms now crossed against your chest. You tilted your head as he gave you a small, almost unsure, smile.

“Would you like me to show you around?”

You paused for a moment, as if you were considering the offer. He felt a flicker of fear in his gut, a new sense of embarrassment at the idea of you rejecting him. Perhaps he had intruded on your newfound freedom, placed himself where he shouldn’t be. But it was only an offer, was it not? And-

His thoughts died down as you smiled at him, your cheeks raising at the movement.

“Well then, what are you doing standing all the way over there for? I expect a full tour.”

Azriel let out a small chuckle, a fluttering sensation filling his chest as he followed the trail his shadows led to you.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

Text

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖

You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.

{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}

MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.

You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.

The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?

“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.

You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.

Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.

You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about.

His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.

Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.

You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.

“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly.

“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.

Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.

The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.

“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”

You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.

“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”

You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”

Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?

He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.

He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?

”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.

Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.

His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts.

“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”

He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down.

“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”

Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.

There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.

“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.

You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”

Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.

Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?

“I never got to thank you.”

His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”

You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”

“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.

“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”

Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”

No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”

Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.

“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.

Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there.

Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest. As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.

If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die.

He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger.

He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.

Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.

When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby.

“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?”

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”

“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”

“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”

“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”

Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”

Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.

You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”

His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”

Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.

Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you

Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then.

You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful.

That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.

The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.

What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?

The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio.

He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”

You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”

Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”

Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him.

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.

Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”

You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.

“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”

“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”

Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.

His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.

When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.

You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor.

Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy?

Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…

You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.

“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone.

“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”

“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.

“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.

With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”

Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”

Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”

You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?

He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”

“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?

“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.

On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”

Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.”

You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.

Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.

Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.

Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”

You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.

Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”

He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”

You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”

Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.

Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?”

You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.”

He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”

“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”

Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”

You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”

“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”

Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.

“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.

“Why would I do that?”

Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”

“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”

Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”

You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”

“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”

“Angel!”

“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”

“ANGEL.”

He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”

Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”

Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”

“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.

He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am

Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.

“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”

Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”

“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”

Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”

You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.

He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you.

Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”

“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.

As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.

You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.

You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.

“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.

Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”

You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”

He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.

“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.

Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?”

The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”

A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric.

“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.

Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?

You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”

“Who says he was bad?”

Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”

His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death.

A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”

“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.

“I wanted something more… personal.”

Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.

“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.

“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”

“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.

He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”

A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.

“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”

How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”

“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.

You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”

He wasn’t an idiot.

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him.

Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms.

You chose to come back.

Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you.

“My little doe.”

You came home.

His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.

Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest.

And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.

He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.

Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.

With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.

You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face.

“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep.

He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place.

One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1

🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

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tojisbbygworl · 10 months

Text

He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader

Based off of this post

Part 2 bonus bonus ii

Masterlist

Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick

Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)

"How are you even cooler under your mask?"

"I was this cool the whole time."

A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.

Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.

Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.

You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.

He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.

As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.

You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.

"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."

He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)

You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.

"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"

"And that's the bite of '83, right?"

"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"

He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."

This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.

He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.

He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.

"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."

He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"

"It's not true?"

He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."

"Oh really?"

He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.

"What's that look about?"

"Would you like someone to teach you?"

He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.

That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.

Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.

He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.

"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.

You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.

He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.

"You really want to have sex? With me?"

You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.

"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.

"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)

God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.

"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.

The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.

You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.

You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.

His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.

"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.

"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.

"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.

"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."

He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."

You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.

"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."

"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"

"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.

"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"

"I'm on the pill."

He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.

"You scared?" She asks.

He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."

You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."

"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."

"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"

Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.

"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."

Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)

Taglist is closed!

Masterlist

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk smut #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x black reader #spider punk x reader smut #black reader

4K notes · View notes

personasintro · 10 months

Text

come for me | jjk

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it's a first proper date he's supposed to plan, unfortunately it does not go according to his plan

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, neighbors au, enemies to lovers (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, protected s*x, little spanking, rough and quick s*x

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k+

a/n: this is one of the secrets I've been keeping and god it's finally here!! i wasn't even planning on finishing this today but I did and I'm so happy to share it with you! hope you like it <3

↳ previous parts

Jungkook is convinced the entire world sucks.

What should be considered as the most exciting time for some men, Jungkook finds it as a literal torture. Planning a date shouldn't be so tough. He has never truly done it before – not when he truly meant it. Whenever he went out for what could be considered as a pathetic attempt at a date, its purpose was clear. To fuck and end it with a mind-blowing orgasm on both parts.

He has never done it like… this.

Fuck.

Just the thought of it makes him want to throw up. He definitely can't mention that to you – who's pretty much clueless about his thoughts and would kick him in the balls if you knew.

“I don't know dude, you should bring her roses.” Taehyung proposes, watching his friend in a mild panic as he bounces Ruda in his arms.

“She's not like other girls.”

“What do you mean? Every woman loves roses! You can't go wrong with that!” Taehyung protests, offended that Jungkook rejected his idea right away.

“I wouldn't say every but yeah, it's the effort that counts. Plus, she knows you've never done this before.” Yoongi joins in that conversation, shrugging nonchalantly while Jungkook nibbles on his bottom lip.

Fuck! This is not like him.

It's already enough his friends share an amused look, one he definitely notices and finds really offending. They find this entire thing very amusing while Jungkook is having a midlife crisis.

“Okay, maybe forget about the flowers. What does she like?”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowns.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “What things does she like to do? Does she like to eat? Likes to watch movies?”

Jungkook's a little taken back by those questions, a clueless expression clouding his face while Taehyung snorts in the background. He's too busy trying to think of a proper answer to glare at him in return.

“I–I don't know,” he admits.

“You don't know?” Yoongi deadpans, “Come on dude, you gotta know something.”

“I don't know!” he exclaims in distress, causing Ruda to babble as if to remind him she's there. He shoots her an apologetic look, looking back at Yoongi. “We never really discussed that kind of stuff. We fucked. That's what she likes for sure.”

“Should you talk like that in front of the baby?” Taehyung points out, met with another glare that shuts him up.

Ruda is too young to understand. He'll take care of his bad mouth by the time she understands, he naively thinks to himself.

“Then just fuck her.”

Jungkook stares dumbfoundedly at his friend and his stupid idea. “Seriously? I'm supposed to take her on a date. Beats the whole purpose of it if I just fuck her instead.”

“Look at him, so much progress.” Taehyung mutters amusingly, causing Jungkook to grab one of Ruda's plushies and throw it aggressively at Taehyung's head.

“Then just take her somewhere and fuck her after. If the date is awful, at least she gets her world rocked.”

They both start to laugh while Jungkook whines loudly, a groan following right after. “You guys are fucking with me. Literally, you're no help.”

“JK, we can't exactly help you when you have no idea what she likes. Maybe you should find out first and then think of something?”

“Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?” Jungkook mocks, doing a little stance with his arms while Ruda is in his hold. “Very smart, Yoongi. I don't want to make it seem as if I don't know what I'm doing.”

“What's so wrong about that?” Taehyung questions, “You just ask her what she prefers and it'll be easier to plan something.”

“Yeah, he's right.”

Jungkook sighs, pinching his brows. Ruda starts to fidget in his hold, causing him to sit down in a chair. He hands her one of her rattles as she starts to wildly shake it in her tiny hands.

“Won't I look pathetic if I just asked her?”

“You literally look pathetic right now.”

“Taehyung, God help me–”

“Just ask her.” He cuts him off.

Somehow, he made it sound easier than the thought of it is.

The next time you see Jungkook is when you bring him the dinner you cooked. You haven't had that much time to see each other, with you working and his sleeping schedule all over the place, you had to settle with a message for the time being. It hasn't been that long, only like three days since he asked you on a date.

You're not going to lie, you feel a little giddy thinking of it. It's weird because you can't imagine the famous Jeon Jungkook on a date. If someone mentioned the words date and Jungkook in the same sentence, you would laugh them off. But now that it involves you, you find it almost flattering. He's taking you on a date.

You.

And no one else.

You want to devilishly cackle at all those bitches that got to fuck him, wanted something more with him. Realizing that's kind of evil, you humble yourself because nothing's sure yet.

Since this is very new to not only you but Jungkook as well, it's hard to have any say when it comes to the future. You're trying to prepare yourself for any outcomes but it's tough. Tougher than you think it would be. The idea of this failing makes you weirdly sad and you can't stand it.

However the sight in front of you completely brings you to other thoughts. You've never been someone who would thirst over dads. The whole DILF thing discussed between women was a pure fantasy, something they would romanize or even sexualize. Not that you were purely against it. Are women who find young dads hot that bad?

The potential man would have to be hot in order to find them being a young dad hot. Some men just have that spark. And you've never really met one even remotely close to Jungkook.

And there he is.

He opens his front door, hair slightly raffled and messy, as if he hasn't brushed it the entire day. He has one of his oversized gray shirts on, a map of spit or whatever that is decorating the thin material. He has a baby cloth draped over his shoulder, momentarily widening his eyes at the sight of you.

Then realization hits him and he steals a glance at the watch around his wrist. He forgot you were supposed to drop in for dinner.

Other than he looks fucking hot, even in his messy state, you also find him adorable how he stares at you with big doe eyes before he ushers you to come inside.

“Where's my favorite baby?” you ask excitedly, keeping your tone down just in case she's sleeping. It's awfully quiet in Jungkook's apartment.

“You make it sound as if you knew dozens of them.”

You give him a look, hearing him chuckling as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Rude.”

“She's sleeping,” he answers instead, but a cocky grin is attached to his moisturized lips. “She's been a little cranky this night,” He lets out a yawn. “Barely got any sleep.”

You pout at the thought of it. “You should've told me. We could switch or something.”

He stares at you dumbfounded as if you just came up with the craziest idea. Perhaps it is one.

“You have a job, Y/N. I can't let you have a sleepless night.”

He has a point. Even if you were willing to spend a sleepless night helping him, you wouldn't really help much since you have to wake up early in the morning. You can't babysit during the day, unless it's the weekend. And babysitting during the night so Jungkook can sleep, even if for a few hours would cause you to look like a zombie the next morning.

You love your sleep. But you're willing to give it away for Ruda. And Jungkook.

Jungkook ends that particular topic, leading you further down his apartment and to his kitchen where you place the containers. “It's tomato sauce pasta with chicken and basil. Not exactly a trophy winning menu but I tried to cook something quickly.”

“Fuck, I'm so hungry,” Jungkook whines, opening the container as he inhales the scent, a steam coming off it since you just finished cooking. “Thank you. It smells amazing.”

“No worries, I told you I wanna help in any way I can.” you assure him.

He motions for you to sit down, already pulling out a glass for you where he pours you an apple juice. “Have you eaten?” he asks, already digging his fork into pasta.

“It's hot, be careful,” you warn him, even though the steam itself is enough of an indicator that it's indeed very hot. But Jungkook looks as if he's ready to swallow the entire thing with no thoughts. “And no. I came directly here but no worries, I will eat when I come home.”

“Nonsense,” Jungkook waves you off. You watch him stand up and before you can complain, he pulls out a plate for you and opens the other container you had prepared for him for tomorrow. “Here, let's eat together.”

“Jungkook–I have my food at home, I just came here to drop this–”

“Stay for a while.” he says simply, looking too irresistible and straight into your eyes for you to object.

“Okay.”

You dig into the food, not realizing how hungry you've become once again. Your entire apartment smells like tomato sauce, garlic and basil. You hope by the time you come there, the opened windows did their job because you would hate to sleep in a smelly apartment.

When you were cooking, you inhaled the smell a lot so naturally, you didn't feel as hungry anymore but now the hunger comes back. Without any argument, you both eat in silence while trying to talk about your days.

You and Jungkook haven't really talked that much before. You both know what you spent most of the time doing. That's changing and it is a pleasant change.

It does feel slightly odd to be talking about casual stuff like your work. But once Jungkook takes over and talks you through their day. He's got a lot on his plate. He has a baby for fuck sake. He looks exhausted, yet his eyes are sparkling and he doesn't make it sound as if he's complaining. He informs you, even laughs at Ruda's cranky mood and what work she makes him go through.

You're done and Jungkook takes it upon himself to clean the dishes and give you back your food containers, even though you told him it can wait. He protests and while he just as much protests with you cleaning the mess in his living room, you do it anyway.

There are toys and a few dirty and empty bottles laying around. There's not that much of a mess and it's done shortly after Jungkook finishes dishes.

You both decide to hang out for a while before you have to get home, take a shower and prepare yourself for the night.

“Hey, I meant to ask you about something…”

Jungkook starts unsurely, arm outstretched behind your seat on his couch as you're cuddled to his side. You could fall asleep like this.

“It's about our date.”

You pull away slightly to look at his face, “Are you backing down from it?” you muse, watching the way his face turns into panic and that alone tells you that's far from the truth. It's enough to let you relax as you giggle.

“No!”

“Then what is it?” you ask, cuddling back but in a position where you still can see him.

“What do you like to do?” he asks, a little awkward as he scratches the back of his head. “It sounds fucking stupid but I was wondering where to take you and I realized–we never talked about this stuff. And I–” Don't want to mess up. He doesn't finish.

Something warm collects in your chest and you try to hide a smile, not wanting him to feel as if you're finding him amusing or anything of that sort. Actually, you find him endearing. He's showing you a side of himself that you've never seen before.

“Whatever you plan, I'm sure I'll enjoy it.” You settle on saying, not having anything particular in mind which is not a help at all.

“Come on!” Jungkook whines, “I'm trying here. I've never done this shit before.”

“Did you just call our date a shit?” you tease him, watching him open his mouth before he closes it and glares at you.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know, I just love teasing you,” you muse, met with another glare which causes you to giggle silently. “I've never seen you like this. I'm quite enjoying it.”

“Yeah, make fun of me.” he scoffs a little.

Realizing this might not be just as fun and humorous as you make it seem to be, you also realize this must be important to him in a way. Your smile drops and you sit up, watching him slide his arm off the couch and into his lap. He stares there thoughtfully, avoiding your gaze.

“I'm sorry, I didn't think you would worry about it this much,” you tell him gently, “Depends on what time we would go on a date.”

“I called my mom and she can babysit until 9PM. She has to go back home after that.”

“Hm, okay. And what time are we meeting?”

“I thought maybe around… four?” he says, stealing a glance at you as your purse your lips in thought.

“How about we eat somewhere nice–nothing fancy!” you warn him, not really sure if he's the type to go all out since he has never done this before.

But still, you want to make sure he doesn't spend a fortune on a single date. Plus, you would like to pay too. Not because he has a baby and other expenses, but because you're independent. You don't need a man to pay for everything.

Maybe eventually it would be nice to get spoiled a little. But at the moment, you can't imagine it. It wouldn't seem fair considering what a position he's in now. There's a little human here that needs more of everything than you do.

It's not something you've had to come to terms with, you've understood it from the beginning. Jungkook is a dad now. And it has a certain baggage with it.

“And then we could do something–I don't know. Maybe we could think about it after? To see what we're in the mood for.”

“You sure you'll be okay with it?” he asks unsure.

He's met with a confusion as you pull back and say; “Why wouldn't I be? I just suggested it.” you giggle.

“Just askin'. I've never done this before.”

“So you said.” you tell him, standing up. “I would go and check Ruda but I don't want to wake her up. So kiss her for me, okay?”

Jungkook looks like he's ready to protest, perhaps telling you to stay a little longer or even night, knowing it might be too soon for you. Once he checks the time, he remains quiet and the pout is the only thing visible on his face.

You lean down, kissing him on his cheek. “Don't worry about the date too much, okay?”

He hums, though keeps his pessimism to himself. You wave at him for the last time and it's until he hears a soft click that he's once again alone with his daughter. The one that announces herself shortly after you leave. A loud sigh leaving his mouth as he stands up and goes to check on her.

“What do you mean you can't come?” Jungkook shrieks, so out of his character that even his mother on the other line stays silent for a second.

“I'm sorry, Jungkookie. They canceled all train connections because of an accident.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing his mother scolding him but he pays her zero attention. “Can you grab a taxi or something? I'll pay for it.”

It's out of his budget but he's desperate.

“No, it's too expensive plus I wouldn't be able to make it in time. You know how it is here. It's hard to find a taxi.”

He groans, rubbing his face frustratedly as he stares out of the window. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He had it all planned. Even though you talked about getting food, he thought a lot – embarrassed to say – he even googled a few spots that were recommended around here. He would let you choose and maybe you would be able to visit them all within five hours that you would have for yourselves.

But now everything's out of the window.

“I could come tomorrow?” She tries to help, but Jungkook shakes his head.

You can't tomorrow. There's some kind of family party you need to attend.

“No, it's fine, mom. I'll call you later.”

“I really am sorry, Jungkookie.”

He starts to think of every single thing that he knows. Every person gets on his mind and he wonders if he should call them. In a moment of realization and reality hitting back to him, he realizes he can't just call anyone to watch over his daughter. He sits down in disappointment, realizing how selfish that would be of him.

He can't call Yoongi or Taehyung. They would not be able to take care of her and he would spend the entire date worrying, probably leaving to check on her. That's completely out of the question. None of his other friends, that probably fuck around as we're speaking would be able to help him.

None of his family members are around. Plus, they still haven't met Ruda – most of them – for some reason he thinks it's too early. He's still in a stage of trying to figure out to be a father.

It's only his luck that his mom calls him from the train station, having no other way to come here. Just because some dumb fuck decided to jump in front of the train.

He stops.

Fuck, he really is selfish.

He takes it back immediately, having more compassion now than ever since he has a whole baby to raise and take care of.

You're supposed to be here any minute. He had it all planned.

His mom should've been here soon, he would briefly talk her through Ruda's routine. He trusts her. She raised him and could surely take care of a baby. Plus, Ruda's sleep is better these days and she's too little to make a fuss about her dad not being here.

When a knock resounds on his door, his entire stomach churns and he prepares himself for the disappointment that he seems to be. It's even worse when he opens the front door and you stand there, fully prepared in a short dress. Your hair is neat and nicely done, so is your make-up. Not that you aren't pretty either way, but he can definitely tell the extra effort you've put into yourself.

It truly makes him feel like the biggest asshole.

You smile, telling him something but he can't hear. He just stares, both out of awe and then frustration when he realizes what he's about to tell you.

“What's wrong?” Your smile drops, making a note of his weird expression of pure sadness.

“We can't go on a date,” He forces the words out of his mouth.

It's weird how his heart drops when you suddenly grab the strap of your bag, looking as if you're shielding yourself from him.

“It's–My mom just called and she can't get on the train.”

“Oh,” you let out. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, um–come inside.” he says, gently grabbing your wrist as he pulls you inside. He doesn't need any nosy neighbors witnessing this very uncomfortable and awkward situation.

You stand in his entry way, looking around in awkwardness as he scratches his temple.

He's obviously styled and prepared to go out. You've noticed his nice outfit right away. He's wearing black slacks with a casual white t-shirt tucked inside it. His hair is trimmed and styled back. You can smell his aftershave and hair gel along with his cologne.

Clearly, he hasn't stood you up and what he's saying is the truth.

It's not like you doubt him but well – all of this is new and maybe it wouldn't be so out of character if Jungkook panicked and decided to make a lie to save himself.

“I'm so sorry–I really had everything prepared for tonight. And it's completely ruined. I fucked up.”

You frown, staring at him for a second. “You didn't fuck up, Jungkook.” you tell him softly. “It's not your fault.”

“I thought of calling one of my friends, but they're not able to take care of Ruda–I can't just let them–”

Probably they wouldn't even want to babysit, now that he thinks of it.

“Jungkook, it's totally okay. I understand.”

“I can't let just anyone watch over her.”

“I understand,” you emphasize softly, smiling at him. “How about we take her with us?”

Jungkook's head snaps in your direction, looking at you as if you're crazy. “You wanna take a baby with us? Nothing against Ruda but–we're not gonna be able to enjoy it. She will cry eventually and I had plans–I can't possibly imagine taking her there–it's too much work.”

He panics and you need to get a hold of his shoulders to stop him.

“We don't have to take her to the restaurant or wherever you want to go,” you inform him, “We could just take her for a stroll and see from there? If she's gonna cry and be cranky, we'll just come back.”

You're not a mother yourself, but somehow you can empathize with his situation. He hasn't taken her out for too long, not onto too many public places. Until you count grocery stories and nearby parks. He's by himself most of the time. While he finally got the hang of the feeding, bath and sleeping routine, the thought of suddenly taking her there makes him unsure. Even though he knows he'll have to do it eventually.

“Plus, I will be there. It's gonna be the two of us.”

Something about that specific line makes him pause as he watches you. You give him a look, wondering what's the stare for but he just smiles. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you assure him. “Nothing's ruined. Plus, I think I'll prefer Ruda's company there too.”

He looks at you suspiciously, almost like he doesn't believe you. And perhaps he doesn't. But you giggle. “I'm serious. There's gonna be time to enjoy ourselves alone.”

“I–” he stops, “Wow. Okay. I'll prepare her and we can go.”

“Great,” you smile, “I'll prepare her stroller. Do you have any formula prepared?”

“Yeah, had one prepared for mom. It should still be warm.”

You both jump into action. Jungkook takes Ruda out of her cradle that he bought for her and has its place designed in his living room. She starts to wake up, her little face twisting as you coo at her while you walk past them. You prepare the bottle and stroller, watching Jungkook put her there as you bring some extra clothes for her just in case.

You're out of his apartment in a record time, fully prepared as you shoo Jungkook and take the stroller. He walks beside you with a teasing smile, but there's a huge relief and content behind it.

Jungkook's nerves are put at ease.

Not only you but the situation proves to him that he can still go and eat out, even with a baby. Ruda has been like an angel. Once she's awake, she just stares around before she falls asleep shortly after. You feed her in a nearby park which slowly lullabies her to sleep.

After walking and getting to know each other's interests through stories, you find a nice restaurant where you can eat outside. It's not probably what Jungkook had planned but it has its own magic.

Stroller kept next to you at all times, you fill up your stomach and even sleeping Ruda gets a few compliments along the way.

“Aw, what a cute baby! You have a very pretty baby.” The waitress tells you, beaming from a distance at sleeping Ruda, causing you both to smile.

None of you correct her. Why should you? She's a stranger and it doesn't matter what she thinks. You understand why she would think you're a family. It's a standard here. Nobody expects single dads out here.

Well, not so single anymore. You hope.

“Thank you.” you smile at her in gratitude, eyes dropping to the sleeping angel that's next to you. Okay, maybe you appropriated Jungkook's daughter but he doesn't seem to mind. Actually, it seems like he's enjoying the sight in front of him.

“Your daughter is a star around here.” you tell Jungkook once the waitress is gone.

He chuckles, “Stealing my spotlight from birth.”

“Oh, she definitely helps you catch even more eyes.” you muse, watching him laugh in confusion. “Everyone's staring at you. All those women we walked past. They're thirsting over you.”

“Are you sure it's because of Ruda?”

You roll your eyes while grinning, “So cocky as usual.”

“What? I've always caught a female's gaze if that's what you were saying.”

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes again, “But there's something hot about a young hot dad. You're a DILF now.”

“Don't call me that.” he groans, causing you to laugh.

“Either way, it does bring you attention whether you like it or not.”

“Doesn't matter, I only like your attention,” he says.

The two of you share a look as Jungkook cringes while laughing while you shriek in both excitement and disbelief. You probably look like a crazy couple. “That was smooth!”

He laughs, “I'm trying. I'm not romantic.”

“Are we having this conversation again?” You lift your brow. “Anyway, they can only look. You're on a date with me.”

It's a diplomatic way to say, aiming at something that hasn't been discussed yet. This is your first date after all. None of you have a certain plan.

Yet, you're sure to admit that you don't like the attention Jungkook gets.

“Does that make me your boyfriend?” he asks, tasting the way that words sound out of his mouth.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Hell yeah. If it means repelling all the men from you, I will be anything.”

You laugh, “You sound jealous.”

“Because I am,” he says, throwing a piece of sweet potato into his mouth. “I want you all to myself.”

“Hm, I'll think about it. Ruda has a place in my heart too.”

“I can share with her.”

You both share a giggle together, something you've barely done before.

“Does this make it official?” you question.

He shrugs, “If you want it to be. I know I do.”

“Me too,” you tell him giddily, sounding like an excited teenager. “I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Do people get together on a first date though?” he asks, finding you staring dumbfoundedly at him. “No, I'm serious. I really wanna know.”

You sit back, taking a sip of your drink. “Who cares? We kinda did it backwards anyway.”

“True,” Jungkook hums. “Who cares.”

Throughout those four hours of getting to know each other more, the connection between you grew some more. You've found out about Jungkook's secret hobby which is graphic art. It kind of explains the love for his tattoos as well. He's no longer just the boy that partied and fuck his way through his years. Actually, he's not that at all.

His guilty pleasure is eating snacks in the middle of the night, though he really tries to restrict himself from doing so. It's tougher to visit a gym these days, one of his obvious hobbies that you've already known. But he talked more about that and there wasn't a minute that it felt awkward or uncomfortable.

Ruda has been a pleasant company as well, her cuteness making both of you laugh and giggle. You were kind of bonding over her as well. Until it was starting to get darker and the two of you have decided to get back.

On your way to the apartment complex, Ruda has pooped which proved your decision to go back to be right. Jungkook invites you to his place, not too keen on ending your date just yet and you agree. Though, you have to wake up early to pack your things and get ready for your cousin's birthday party, you don't want to leave them.

You offer to take Ruda's nappy but Jungkook refuses, thinking it might be too much to ask of you but truly, you wouldn't mind. You try to tell him that but he just shakes his head, tells you to sit down and make yourself at home.

Shortly after, he comes back informing you that Ruda fell asleep. He joins you on the couch with what sounds like an exhausted sigh. The two of you share a look, both chuckling, silently of course because there's a baby sleeping in the other room.

“Did you like it?”

Jungkook fills up the momentary silence, voice slightly unsure and nervous.

He glances at you sideways, quickly looking away as he clears his throat.

“The date.”

“I did,” you giggle, nodding. “I really did. Thank you, it was very lovely.”

He allows himself to smile, mentally patting himself on his back for this going so smoothly. To be honest, he expected a disaster. It began like that, so he can't be blamed for expecting it to continue. But he's pleasantly surprised.

Too happy about today.

He feels like a freaking teenager and he gets this weird fluttering in his stomach. Urgh! He's not sure how he feels about it because it's new.

“Though you could've let me pay at least for the botanic park–or the museum.” you tell him, giving him a dirty but teasing look.

You've really managed to visit many places Jungkook prepared for you. At first – which you're clueless about – he wasn't sure how to feel about it because he never went to a freaking museum. Maybe when he was on a school trip. It was totally involuntary, of course. But he caught himself enjoying it – and maybe it was because you were there – but he realized he doesn't mind enjoying himself, knowing it's because of you that he was able to.

“No can do.” Jungkook shakes his head, teasing you some more which makes you groan.

“I will pay next time.”

“Next time?” he teases, wiggling his brow.

“Aren't we dating now? It's what couples do, going on dates–”

“We are,” he hums. “What else do they do?”

You smirk, inching closer to him as you cuddle up to his side. He welcomes your touch, throwing his arm around you as he pulls you even closer while he doesn't take his eyes off you.

“They kiss,” you whisper, noses bumping into each other as you let your lips linger over his. Not quite kissing him but then it's too irresistible, he is, that in the end you press a soft kiss on his lips.

“They cuddle,” you continue, “Fuck.”

Jungkook chokes on his spit, “Don't say it like that.”

“Is Jeon Jungkook getting shy?” you tease, kissing his jaw. “You know a lot about fucking.”

“I–fuck–I do,” he agrees, voice sounding almost choked up. He tries to concentrate badly, he really does, but you're making it too hard when your kisses trail down his neck, making more parts of his body alive. “It just makes me–”

“What? Horny?” you tease and he groans.

“Well obviously,” he rolls his eyes, hands on your hips as you sit up and straddle his lap. “Wait–”

“Why?” you pause, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

“No, wait, wait, wait–” He quickly says as if he could read your thoughts. He can surely see the starting embarrassment and the way you pull away, putting distance between you. “I really want nothing else than fuck you.”

“But?”

Jungkook presses his lips together, “I wanna take it slow. Won't it ruin if we just fuck right now?”

You give him a look, slightly caught off guard. “Why would we? We've done it before multiple times.”

“Yeah, we did but… but it was different, you know?” he says and weirdly, you do know what he means. However– “I just don't want to fuck this up.”

Your eyes soften, taking Jungkook's face into your hands as you press a soft kiss to his lips. “You won't fuck this up, Jungkook.”

“You don't know that.” He frowns.

“Well, yeah. I meant it in a more encouraging way. You're trying and I can see that. I do appreciate it.” you confess to him, silently and softly as if saying it out loud will make it embarrassing. You're a little sheepish when it comes to confessing such things. Talking deeply and emotionally with him. “I personally don't think us having sex tonight will ruin anything. But if that's what you're worried about, we don't have to. What I wanna say with this is–I respect it.”

He watches you, eyes clouded with restraint and desire. Currently having an inner battle with himself, he sighs and leans his head back.

“Plus, I think it's cute.”

“Cute?” he deadpans, moving his head down to look at you.

“You're cute,” you admit, giggling at the look of disgust on his face. “This really means something to you.”

“Does it not to you?”

You laugh, “Of course it does.”

He smiles, pulling you closer as he's the one who kisses you now. “Fuck, you're really making this hard.”

“Not just this.” you point out, wiggling your brows at him when you shift in his lap, feeling his hardening length under you.

“Stop!” he shrieks silently in horrification.

You giggle, “We could watch a movie instead. Or talk.”

He rubs his lips together, eyes dropping low. For a moment, the two of you only stare at each other. There's desire, lust and impatience clouding the air around you, just as much as it fills your gazes. Jungkook's eyes are the first ones to drop down your lips. Staring at them painted in a nice shade that compliments your skin tone. They're moisturized and never looked so tempting. He's not sure. He can't think straight right now.

“Fuck movie.” he pants, grabbing you by your sides and pulling you onto him.

The kiss is no longer soft and minimal, you both practically throw at each other letting your bodies act upon their biggest temptation. The making out is messy and fast, no longer staying at that as Jungkook lays you down and starts kissing you down your neck.

“Fuck, that feels good.” you gasp, moaning when Jungkook lowers down your dress and starts sucking the skin on top of your breasts.

You arch into his touch and warmth, craving for every inch of him. It leads you to become even more impatient, ushering him to take off his shirt. He does and you immediately salivate at his pecs and muscles, hands trailing down his back and abs.

“Fuck, almost forgot how hot you are.” you confess. Okay, that might be a lie. It's hard not to notice how Jungkook glows with hotness, even if there are traces of exhaustion every day.

“Oh, you forgot?” Jungkook teases, “Should remind you.”

“Mhm, you should.”

And boy, he does.

In a split second, the dress is ripped off you and thrown somewhere on the floor, underwear followed right after. You complain about Jungkook's upper body still dressed, though there's something incredibly sexy about him wearing slacks with chest on full display. It's almost too shameful that he turns you around, getting you on all four.

Both of you go completely feral. The position making your ass arch as Jungkook delivers a slap to it. He stops for a second though, freezes and waits for any sound coming from his bedroom. You watch him relax as he continues, a little smile playing on your lips.

You hear him unzipping his slacks, not wanting to get the sight stolen from you so you turn around and stare at the scene in front of you across your shoulder. He smirks, noticing you watching as he reaches toward his coffee table.

Once he pulls out a foil packet, you give him a look with raised brow. “How did it get there?”

“My wallet dropped the other day and someone rang the door, I panicked and put it there.”

You laugh at his story, wondering if he's telling the truth. He looks like it though and quite frankly, you don't care.

“Turned out to be convenient.”

“It did, thanks to whoever rang that day.”

He smiles, not elaborating any further as he takes off his remaining clothes. You hear the familiar sound of foil ripping and before you know it, Jungkook's tip pokes you at your asscheek.

You might be already impatient enough, both of you too hungry for one another, but you also know there is no time to fool around when you now have the chance to have sex. Any second Ruda could wake up and put an end to your and Jungkook's desire. Seems like he knows it too because he gives you an apologetic look.

“It's okay, just fuck me.” you assure him with a moan, arching your back for him.

He spits on his fingers, stretching you out with them and you sigh in content at the feeling. Giving you a few pumps to make you at least somehow prepared for him, you whine his name in ushering him and silently telling him you'll be fine.

That's all it takes for him to enter you, both of you swallowing down any set of curses and sounds. Jungkook pulls back just for him to thrust into you. He finds a perfect rhythm, rocking your bodies fast and roughly.

Jungkook growls, “Holy shit.”

He slaps your ass, trying to keep it down as you both giggle in the middle of it. It's soon cut off by his thrusts you try to meet. Giggles get switched by silent moans and pleas. Everything is heated and rushed, both of you ultimately aiming to orgasm knowing it could get interrupted any minute. Keeping that in mind, you don't hold yourself back and neither does Jungkook.

Despite your situation, he does not refrain himself a few slaps to your ass which only brings you closer to the end.

“Jungkook–”

“Fucking hell, I wish I could hear you moaning and screaming.”

You wish you had more time, though you don't regret it happening now. You wouldn't have it any other way. Thinking that you both would have to wait for each other sounds like a proper torture.

“You're fucking creaming my cock–fuck.” he groans silently, seeming to have as much as struggle to keep it down.

Still, it's kind of hot to experience it. You never had to keep it down. Sure, there were many times when you specifically had sex and tried to be silent because of neighbors. With Jungkook, you never cared about neighbors before. Not that much at least.

“Fuck–I'm almost–there.”

“Come for me.” Jungkook grunts, hands gripping your ass so much that you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow.

And you do. Not even five seconds later, you bury your face into his couch and let moans disappear into its material. Jungkook follows right after you, not being able to hold it for much longer as he comes inside the condom.

He stays inside for a moment, softening slowly as he carefully helps you to turn around. He sits back on his knees, condom soiled by your cum and juices but none of you move.

You stare at each other, smiles coming up at the same time as you silently giggle.

This is the best date ever.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #dilf!jungkook

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thebestofoneshots · 4 months

Note

This isn’t really a request but this came to may head at three in the morning ok Imagine like your getting fucked by one of the Marauders or all of them and yk those moving pictures they have in the wizard world image they have a whole box filled of the reader getting back shots and EVERYTHING 😵‍💫🥴

THE STASH | marauders x reader

Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader

Word Count: 5 k

Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, a little bit of PTSD on Sirius, pictures taken w/o reader’s knowledge, reader being insecure and gaining back confidence thanks to the boys.

Prompt: You find the boy's stash, filled with lusty pictures and they make you feel insecure, thoughts about not being good enough for them arise, the catch is, that’s THE OLD stash. (Happy ending)

Notes: I had a similar idea already in my head so when I saw this ask I just knew I had to make it happen.

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

You knocked on their door a couple of times when no one said anything, you decided to let yourself in, “Rem? Jamie? Sirius?”

No answer.

You looked around and went to sit by Remus’ bed. He said he’d see you in their room later that night for study and maybe something more, but with study club and prefect duties, you assumed he was as busy as the two other boys were with the quidditch training. You didn’t mind it much though, their room was a lot more quiet to study in than yours, and it was always fun to see their surprised faces when they walked in and you were there.

You were taking your book and some parchment out when a pot of ink fell from your bag and onto the floor. There was a thud and then another one and then it spilled all over. You gasped and left the bag on the side before leaning down to pick it up. You whispered a quick “reparo,” and the crystal pot wasn’t leaking anymore, but the ink was still on the floor and some of it was spilling down the wooden floorboard.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you summoned a napkin from your bag and started to clean as best as you could, but it didn’t seem to be working, it was still spilling down into what looked like a nook on the floor. You frowned and looked at the wooden board in detail only to realize there was a section that was a little more worn than the rest.

You frowned and tried to lift the board by digging your nails on the side but it wasn’t working, you huffed and walked over to Sirius’ night table to see if he still had his pocket knife there. Luckily he did, and you took it, pulling out one of the blades and using it as a crane to lift the wooden board.

Once you did you realized the ink had slipped inside most of the things they kept in there. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered continuously as you tried to pull off the things in fear that they would be ruined with the ink. There were some old letters, some hand-rolled cigars, a few potions and then a small box, that one had gotten most of the ink. You winced and pulled it out, biting your lip as you tried to concentrate. You had been so busy with the cleaning, that you never saw the spiderwebs that covered most of the items.

“Evanesco,” you whispered, focused solely on the ink, which successfully disappeared, but so did the small lock they had on the box and it opened by itself. You blinked a couple of times when you saw what was inside. You carefully grabbed one of the images, a stunning red-headed witch, winking at you as she bounced around, with her very large, and very beautiful breasts in full display.

You gulped as you stared at her, she wiggled her shoulders a bit and gave you another wink. You sucked in a breath, she was freaking stunning. And probably there because of James’ fixation with redheads.

The rest of the pictures were turned over, but curiosity got the best of you, and you took another piece of paper from the box. That one was bent in four, as if it had been ripped from a magazine. You slowly unbend it, first one fold and then the other and there was another stunning witch in the image.

This one had smaller breasts, but she was leaning down on a bed, perfectly manicured hands brushing over her own folds, two perfectly long and well-shaped legs on the side. She had dark skin and the light reflected on her legs as she accommodated on the bed, her head leaning back with what looked like a sigh as she rolled her hand over her clit. She too was beautiful, and perfect.

You sat the image on the side, next to the redhead and pulled another one. One of the smaller ones, only to be met with yet another stunning witch, perfectly flat stomach, and beautiful perky breasts, she was riding a pillow, one hand on the bed and looking straight at you as she bit her lips, inviting, enticing. You placed her next to the others as you pulled another image. And then another, and then another.

Image after image, perfectly attractive witches in all sorts of positions, some by themselves, some with companions (either other hot witches or the cock of a wizard or two). You pressed your legs together, there was a mix of feelings inside you. First of all, you were a little turned on after seeing such kind of imagery. But second, and most important. You were a little upset.

Which was ridiculous, you knew. Expecting the boys to pleasure themselves with the thought of you in mind when you weren’t around was stupid, especially when there were clearly much better and hotter witches in the market. What with their perfectly round breasts and their beautiful lips and flat stomachs and long legs and rosy cunts. You looked at them with a bit of a frown, they all had something in common, they were perfect, and you? You were far, far from that.

Now you weren’t upset that the boys were doing themselves, you knew men needed a lot more release than women did and you tried to keep that in mind as you placed all the beautiful witches back in their box, but you couldn’t help but think: Did they also think of them when they were with you? Did they imagine the beautiful redhead’s breasts when they were kissing yours, or maybe that they were in between the legs of that girl with the gorgeous reflective skin instead of your own?

While the pictures were meant to be stimulating, and they had been a little at the beginning, the more you thought about them, the more you thought they were so much unlike you and the more your thoughts continued to spiral.

“Such beautiful witches…” you murmured as you closed the box, “and they are equally gorgeous men… why are they–“ You didn’t finish your words out loud, too painful to say them outside of your head.

Why are they with me?

You carefully placed the box back into its spot, cleaned the rest of the things that had gotten stained and placed everything back in their stash. You carefully placed the wooden plank back where it belonged and put Sirius’ knife back in his drawers. You took a deep breath, not feeling up for much and instead ripped a page from your notebook.

“I’m feeling a little sick, see you boys tomorrow.”

It was simple enough not to make them question further, you left it on top of Remus’ bed and left the room.

The following day, the boys being as marvelous and attentive as they were, had gotten you to forget about the stash almost completely. And things had been absolutely perfect since then.

At least until a few days later, you had been playing wizards chess with Sirius on his bed, and after he beat you for the third time making you feel both hopeless and a little dumb for not anticipating his moves –which was also ridiculous because Sirius had been a wizard chess champion– he offered to make it up to you.

It was in the spark in his eyes that you knew exactly what he meant. You bit your lip, Remus was reading a book on his bed while James was snoring lightly next to him, one hand draped across the other boy’s torso. You knew they’d want to join in when they realized what you and Sirius were up to, and it sent a shiver down your stomach.

“What do you say, doll?” Sirius asked as he levitated the chess board and the broken pieces to the side, inviting you to come closer.

You huffed “You think you can make it up with your little puppy eyes?”

Sirius pretended to think about it for a second before nodding. “While they should be enough, I’m still planning to use more than just my looks to make you feel better.”

You returned the smile and leaned closer to him, moving to straddle his sitting form, his back was pressed to the headboard and you could feel he was at least a little excited as you leaned into him.

“Did you win so many times just so you could say that to me?” You asked in disbelief, you were drumming your fingers near the nape of his neck.

“I might have been a little extra attentive,” he replied as he grabbed onto your hips and placed a kiss on your neck. “I know how riled up you get when you can’t best me,” he said before placing another kiss, this time further up, “I kind of enjoy seeing your little frown, and angry looks,” he admitted, he was now kissing your jaw. You rolled your hips into his and he tightened his grip on your hips in response.

You smiled, loving the fact that you knew exactly what Sirius liked and how to get him worked up, at least as much as he knew of you. You rolled your hips again and he reached his hand under your skirt, feeling the outside of your leg before flicking his hand to the inside of it. To the softer skin that he grabbed with firm tenderness. Itching his hand closer and closer, making sure to massage your skin, tauntingly.

You leaned your head onto his shoulder, letting his beautiful hair fall on your face as you rolled your hips again, a lot softer this time, matching his pace and wanting his hand to come closer.

“Eager, are we?” he teased.

“Shhh, you’ll wake up Jamie,” you said as you leaned over to kiss his neck. He bit his lip to hold back a moan and finally placed his hand over your panties, tracing a soft line over your slit. You bucked your hips against his hand and he chuckled lightly.

Remus, who had been focused on his book so far, frowned and looked up at the two of you, smirking a little when he noticed what you were up to. Of course, he knew that chuckle, it was Sirius’ sexy teasing laugh.

“Easy love or you’ll be the one to wake up Prongs,” he said, leaning his head to your ear and softly nibbling on it. He traced his hand over your slit a couple more times, and you bucked your hips again. He smiled, you didn’t see it, but you felt it against your skin, “All right, all right…” he said as he flicked his finger over the hem of your panties and moved them aside. You leaned even closer to him as he dug his fingers in, “All of this for me?” he teased as he felt how wet you were.

Remus, who was now only half looking at his book, had somewhat of a fun time as he listened in to your conversation with Sirius. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find it stimulating. But he also knew Sirius had had a bit of a bad week, so he thought of letting him have you just for himself, at least for a little bit longer, or until James woke up, just as eager to join in.

“Sirius please,” you whined with a frown and he smiled, letting his fingers trace up until they found your clit, making circles over it, which had you bucking your hips against him again. You bit the side of your cheek as you allowed him to move his hand, leaning in to kiss his neck again, to muffle any possible moans with his skin.

“May I?” he asked, teasing your entrance with his index.

“Mhm,” you said and bucked your hips again, eager for him to do his thing. And he complied, digging his finger inside and allowing it to move inside you as expertly as ever.

“So tight,” he whispered, Remus’ cock twitching at Sirius’ words and reconsidering whether he actually wanted to wait more before joining in.

He did not, so he carefully lifted James’ arm from his torso and walked towards Sirius’ bed. He sat right beside the two of you, a cocky smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side, “You two having fun there?” he asked, “without me?”

“You’re always welcome to join in Moony,” Sirius said with a teasing grin as he pulled you back just a little. You had both of your hands on Sirius’ shoulders, and you were now using them as leverage to ride his hand.

Moony smiled, “I might just watch for a while,” he said, leaning back and placing one of his hands on the back of Sirius’ neck. He knew how much small actions and touches like that made Sirius react, and he smiled as the boy’s breath hitched in his throat. He then turned to look at you, a mischievous grin on his face, he took his wand out and whispered “Evanesco.”

Suddenly both your shirt and bra disappeared, giving both boys the perfect sight of your breasts perking up at the sudden cold. Sirius grunted as he stared, and Remus hummed satisfied. You clenched around Sirius’ fingers –which were now two– whimpered and let out a soft moan.

But then, as you felt their gazes on you, and you felt your own boobs bouncing as you continued to ride Sirius’ expert fingers, you started to feel self-conscious, of how you looked, of how they were staring at you, on whether they were actually thinking of you or imagining something else, someone else. Maybe the beautiful redhead? The busty blonde? The reflextive-skinned goddess with the beautiful legs? The brunette with the beautiful ass?

Suddenly the lights flickered, and they were gone. You relaxed, Sirius felt the grip on his shoulder untensing, but he thought it was because you were close. But Sirius liked to see your fucked out face when he had his fingers inside you, and in seconds the lights were turned back on, and you tensed instantly.

The muscle movements were normal, but the way you suddenly dug your nails into his shoulders was not, at least not in the moment it was happening and not in the way it was either. Something was up.

He stopped moving his hand in an instant, “you all right, angel?” he asked, a small wrinkle forming on his forehead as his brows furrowed together.

You seemed to be lost in thought for a second, Remus noticed that too, “Yeah… just. Let’s leave the lights off today.”

Now it was Remus’ turn to frown, he took his hand from Sirius’ neck and sat straighter, pulling back and leaning in closer to look at your face, his hand instinctively traveling to your thigh. Sirius, with one hand still inside you –now unmoving– was brushing his thumb in circles on your waist, they were both giving you their unwavering attention, and your breath hitched in your throat. You looked at them nervously, your eyes traveling from boy to boy at unprecedented speeds and you bit your lip, and then the lights were off again.

Once they were off, you sighed and leaned your head on Sirius’ shoulder. He felt how you relaxed in an instant, and his frown deepened. “Angel, what is it?”

“Nothing, light’s giving me a headache,” you lied.

Sirius turned to Remus, while he couldn’t see much, he knew Remus would probably be able to see his questioning stance easily, with his enhanced senses, at least. “You believe her?” he mouthed.

Remus shook his head in response, and when he realized Sirius couldn’t actually see he turned to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure that’s it, luv?”

You swallowed, which was enough indication you weren’t, and you lied again, “Yes, let’s just, continue as is.”

Sirius knew you were lying, and he hated it when you lied to him, he also hated not being able to see shit while Remus could see your every reaction so he turned the lights on, didn’t even use his wand for it, and you tensed again.

You were taken aback by that and swallowed thickly. Your breath was slightly ragged and it was not because you were turned on, in fact, if anything, you felt rather apprehensive now. You cleared your throat. “You know, maybe I’m just not feeling it,” you lied again and pulled yourself off of his hand.

Sirius felt way too many things at the same time, he was worried about your reaction since he thought he’d done something wrong. He was angry because he knew you were hiding the exact reason; he wanted, no, he needed to know what was up so he would never do it again, and thirdly, he was upset, he’d felt…rejected. And by you, no other.

By the time Sirius reacted again, you were buttoning your shirt up and walking towards their door. James, who had been asleep till then, was finally awoken by the lights coming on and off and the small commotion going on. He was confused, at first he thought you were just playing, but perhaps that was not it.

But Sirius was faster, and he jumped over Remus to get to the door just as you were opening it and shut it closed. You jumped back just a little, shocked at how fast he’d moved, you were now the one with a frown, anger bubbling to your chest, Sirius’ temper had always been something you’d learn to deal with, and even if you knew it was justified now, that didn’t stop yours from flaring up.

“That’s not it,” he said confidently, “that’s not it and you’re not getting out until you tell me what’s upset you.”

“Sirius,” Remus said now, ever the conciliator. He’d also stood from the bed and walked the few strides left to get next to the two of you.

Maybe it wasn’t the best reaction you could have had, but you were already pretty shaken up by the situation at hand, by your rather torturous thoughts and by Srius’ slamming of the door. “Oh, so you know my body better than I do?” you said defensively, “you would know if I have or not a headache.”

“YES!” he responded stubbornly. “I know how it reacts when it has a headache and it’s not the way you were reacting now!”

You shook your head as you scoffed, James was now sitting on the bed looking at the situation both confused and worried.

“Moony! Back me up on this?” he said as he turned his face to him.

Remus bit his lip, as he shook his head, thinking before speaking. “He’s right luv, that was not your headache reaction.”

You scoffed, “ff course, you’d take his side.”

“I’m not taking any sides.”

“Well you are, just don’t realize it!” you said angrily. “If I say I have a headache, I have one and that’s it. Now, I want to leave.”

“Darling,” Remus said as he let out a breath, he seemed worried and upset as well now, you were trying really hard not to feel bad about it, trying to remind yourself why you needed to leave.

It was Sirius who spoke again, his lips quivering as he found the right words, “Just tell me what I did wrong, I’ll never do it again, I promise,” his voice broke near the end. He was panicking, he was terrified he’d hurt you and that you’d leave thinking the worst of him. You knew what was hapening had brought back some past trauma and you didn’t want to be the catalyst of another panick attack.

You took a deep breath when you heard him, your frown deepening as you considered your words, “I found your stash.”

The three men went quiet in an instant. Sirius looked like a deer trapped in headlights, Remus’ jaw had tightened and you’d heard James’ gasp in the back.

“Darling, I–“ Sirius tried to speak but you cut him off.

“No, no,” you tried to reason, more with yourself than with him. “I get, it’s fine, you need your release time and all that, I don’t mind.”

“Well, you clearly do,” Remus said. You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was James’. He had walked towards you the moment he heard about the stash but you hadn’t noticed until then. You flinched but missed the hurt look that etched his features as he looked at you.

“Well yes. But it’s a stupid feeling nonetheless. I’ll get over it. Just need time.”

“It was me,” James said from behind, “it was my idea, not Sirius’. Don’t be upset at him.”

You swallowed thickly, not wanting to be angry at James for something so natural in men, let alone because you knew this whole mess was created due to your own thoughts and insecurities, not theirs. And now you were upsetting them, what a great bIoody girlfriend you were.

“I don’t bIoody care whose idea it was!” you spat. “Please let me off,” you said then, leg bouncing, you wanted to get out before you said something that would upset them more.

“We’ll never do it again if that makes you feel better,” Sirius tried.

“No it– It fucking doesn’t, okay? It’s fine, it’s… Found it a couple of nights ago when my ink pot fell on the floor.” The three boys exchanged a look with each other, had either of them changed its spot? “It’s pretty fresh in my mind and– I just– I can’t stop thinking you’re imagining them while being with me.”

“Them?” Sirius asked, confused.

“The pretty witches!” you responded, almost angrily. Remus, who was in front of you looked confused, and you huffed before adding in more detail. “Beautiful redhead,” you looked at James. “Gorgeous blonde,” you added as you turned to Sirius. Then looked back at the taller boy, “need I elaborate?”

You heard James gasp from behind. “She found the old stash!”

“Ah, so you have a new and improved one,” you said now, and shook your head as you turned at the door. Sirius was leaning in and he had a cheeky smile on his face now, which pissed you off even further.

“You could call it that,” he said with a shrug.

“Sirius,” Remus said calmly again. “Don’t.”

But Sirius just smiled instead, “Oh but, I’m impressed. Our lovely angel was jealous.”

“I was not.” You said flatly. “Get off the door, please,” the last part was much more of a beg than a demand.

Sirius shook his head, “not until you see the new stash.”

Remus and James exchanged looks after that, not even sure if they should or shouldn’t stop Sirius.

“I don’t want to see the witches you use to wank off now, it’s enough with the images already in my head. Can’t stop thinking of them, of you thinking about them when you’re looking at me.”

Sirius’ face fell instantly, his teasing stance almost faltering but not his determined blockage of the door.

“That’s not–“

“Have you considered perhaps it was the other way around?” Remus asked as he placed a slightly hesitant hand on your shoulder.

“What?”

“That we imagined you when looking at them.”

You were taken aback by that. No, you hadn’t considered that. “What about the redhead, can’t tell me she wasn’t there because of James’ old obsession with Evans?”

James sighed, it was. That’s why they had to get a new stash.

“She needs to see the new stash,” Sirius said while looking at the two other boys.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” James intervened, it had been his idea after all, and he had admitted it to you now. He didn’t want to have you get mad over something else, and this time your anger would be indisputably justifiable.

“I think it is,” Sirius insisted.

You sighed, “you can continue deciding if you’re going to show me your new fuckable witches or not a different day. Sirius, get off the door.”

He shook his head and turned to James, “Please?”

“I don’t want to see them! Enough is enough!”

You turned to the side to try and find another exit when you bumped into Remus, he had a box in his hand. He raised it a bit, you knew what it was instantly.

“Remus!” James complained and went to get it but was hastily stopped by Sirius who got in the way and trapped him in his arms.

“Prongs behave!” He said sternly.

The path to the door was free now, but Remus’ serious stance made you curious, even more when he moved his finger to his lips and bit hard enough to draw bIood.

“What the fu–“

“It’s so no one can open but us,” he explained. “We bIood charmed it.”

You looked at him with a shocked face, you didn’t think they’d go to such lengths to hide their spicy stuff, what the hell did they even have there?

Some of the metal hinges at the top moved around a little bit, looking almost like a miniature Gringotts vault, and then it snapped open. Remus pushed it your way. You looked at the three boys before picking the first image up. It was Remus, shirtless Remus on the day you’d gone swimming at the Potter’s last summer. He was pulling his hair back and water glistened all over his torso, he looked at you and winked, before turning to look at something else.

You gasped and pulled another picture, it was James and Sirius, both also shirtless, and they were making out under a tree. Sirius had his leg in between James’ and was leaning onto him rather intensely.

The next one was you, you had the swimsuit you’d bought that summer, the one you thought looked really good on you, and you were on your knees, looking for something on the sand, your ass was slightly prompted up and the picture was obviously focused on that. You swallowed thickly and went to grab another one.

You again, this time while making out with Remus, his hand was on your ass and you had realized they were taking a picture, looking at the camera with a diverted gasp before covering the lens with your hand.

You took another one, and this time around you were genuinely shocked, it was Remus, being blown by James. His pinky pretty lips wrapped around Rem’s cock. “Oh, wow.”

James frowned, he knew what else there was in there and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to see it, he had never felt worse about his own ideas than now. Responsible, he knew he had bertrayed you, in a way. You took the next picture and stared at it for a minute.

It was you again, well, you’re back at least. You were riding Sirius, moving back and forth over his cock as he helped you, hands on your waist as he bit his lip. You didn’t see your face, but you knew it hadn’t been that long ago. If Sirius’ new tattoo was any telling.

You looked at the boys shocked, you hadn’t even realized they’d taken the picture, but you looked as pretty as any witch in the other photos, how had they gotten you to look so good?

They hadn’t done anything, it was just you.

“You don’t have to–“ James started, but you had already picked up another picture.

“Shut up,” you said simply.

You again, this time you were sprawled on the bed with a blindfold on your head. That had been on your birthday. James had one of his hands on your leg, dangerously close to your slit while Sirius was kissing your breast and sucking at your nipples.

And there was more, a lot of pictures from that day, all in compromising positions. Some involving you and the boys, some involving only the boys on different occasions, some you remembered, some in which you hadn’t even been present. There was even one of Sirius wanking off to the picture of you in the swimsuit you had seen earlier.

“I’m sorry–“ James said, now sounding distressed and shaking Sirius off him. “I’m sorry angel, we should have never done it.”

You grabbed another one of the photos, it had clearly been rushed, the camera being hidden as you turned your head to look at the boys, this time around you were kneeling on the bed, and James was jerking himself off to you, teasing your entrance before pulling out completely and allowing his cum to fall over your ass and back.

“You’re right.,” you said as you placed the pictures back in the box, expression neutral. “You should have never done it without asking me–” James swallowed.

“Love I–“

“James, shut up!” you said again, giving the pictures another look. “You should have never done it without asking me first,” you said as you flipped through some more pics and tsking. “I would have helped.”

James’ jaw dropped, and you looked at him with a cheeky smile. Sirius was looking at you proudly and satisfied with his choice while Remus stared at the picture you had in your hand. The one where you were getting a back shot but was shaky and blurry because the camera had been hidden before you saw it.

You moved the picture up, holding it between your fingers as you displayed it to the boys, “What do you say we recreate this one, but with better quality?”

Sirius scoffed a laugh and smiled.

“I’ll get the camera,” Remus said simply.

James was still stunned, and you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Sirius leaned from behind and kissed you on the cheek “I told them you should know about it from the beginning but they said you’re too pure for it.”

You laughed at that, “you boys keep calling me angel,” you said as you turned to Sirius and wrapped your hands around his neck, “but I wouldn’t have done all the things I have with you all if I wasn’t the exact opposite,” you added with a smirk.

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post. Comments are my life fuel, so send them out if you have any.

This one might get a part two, if you guys wanna see that <3

Raead more Marauders Fiction

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luvyeni · 3 months

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𐙚 : SOMEONE WALKING IN ON YOU W/ ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE (reaction) ֶָ֢ !

content warning. oral ( f. receiving ), unprotected sex, getting caught, mean dom sunghoon

request: reaction to being cockblocked with enhypen plzz 🩷?

authors note. i hope you like it 🤍😌!!!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

𐙚 : HEESEUNG ֶָ֢ !

neither one of you would notice at the moment, but will quickly question it when it's long over and you're just laying in bed — both of you fucked out completely unaware you've just traumatized someone. "sh-shit." heeseung held your thighs as you rocked your hips back and forth. "fu-fuck you feel so good -shit- please go faster." he groaned, his hand squeezing your boob as you bounced on his cock, your cunt squeezing perfectly around him , forcing a whimper like moan out of him. "shit im gonna cum." he breathed. "im gonna fucking cum." both of you were moaning and groaning, trying to chase your highs — that neither one of you noticed jake who quickly walked muttering a sorry , both of you continuing on until you reached your climax. it wasn't until you both were finished, laying against his chest watching a movie that you couldn't shake the feeling. "seung?" your boyfriend hummed, eyes still on the movie. "did someone walk in on us?" he turned to you. "i dont know." he shrugged. "why do you ask that?" you sat up. "i swear i could've heard jake." heeseung checked his phone and sure enough there was the text message 'lock the fucking door if you're gonna have sex in the dorm' he smirked putting his phone down. "well i guess he did." your face heated up. "im so embarrassed." he laughed. "baby it's fine , he probably barely saw anything." he said, kissing your temple. "i guess."

"but it would be kinda hot if he did though."

𐙚 : JAY ֶָ֢ !

it don't think jay would have sex in the dorms; let alone forget to lock the door; so it would most likely happen in the morning, and then he'd be too tired to even be really mad, but he would be a little annoyed. "jay." he sighed feeling you place kisses along his neck, his eyes that were closed; fluttering open. "i-i need you." he cursed as you guided his hand into his pants, feeling your wet cunt on his finger tips. "i thought about you." he groaned , turning to face you, slotting his thigh into between your legs. "yeah?" he watched you get off on his leg. "what you dream about princess?" you struggled to tell him ,he wasn't helping bucking thigh. "fu-fuck jay, m-more, i need you." he freed his cock from his pajama pants , ready to slip inside your warm waiting cunt. poor sunoo didn't know that, he just wanted to know if you both wanted breakfast; opening the bedroom door; jay was quick to cover your bodies , sighing heavily against your back. "hyung— sunoo knock please." he tried to not sound annoyed, but he also wanted sunoo to get the hit, and the young boy did. "i-i'm sorry." he quickly left, closing the door. "that was so embarrassing." you whined, he kissed your shoulders to soothe you.

"next time we'll just wait and lock the door."

𐙚 : JAKE ֶָ֢ !

shameless mother fucker does not care, if you're here they should know to not come inside his room. "fu-fuck jake wait." you grabbed his hair, trying to stop him from lapping at your cunt the way he was, covering your mouth to keep from moaning out. "pretty pussy taste so good." he licked your clit. "i need to taste you so more." he hooked your legs , the feeling off your legs closing around his head made his cock jump in his pants. now you two were being loud, but your moans didn't stand a chance against heeseung who had his headphones in, opening the door to see of jake wanted to play the game, only to register what was happening and turning right on his heels, walking out. "ja-jake." you pushed at the boys — who seemingly didn't even register what was happening, and kept going. "fuck, i thought you locked the door s-someone—" jake finally pulled away from your cunt , his face covered in your essence along with a cheshire like smile.

"you must've like it princess, your pretty little pussy clenched as soon the door opened."

𐙚 : SUNGHOON ֶָ֢ !

annoyed as hell, but doesn't stop; no he keeps going, you feel too good for him to stop now. "fu-fucking hell." he hissed his hands tangled in your hair, your ass bouncing back against him. "that's right, fuck yourself on me." he slapped your ass. "sunghoon fuck!" your head was thrown back as he plowed into your cunt, his balls slapping against your cunt , sweat dripping down your body as you both went at it like wild rabbits. "fucking wet cunt." he growled. "gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum." both of you were ready to cum, when the door opened, a frightened jay who heard a yelp thinking someone was hurt, quickly realized that it wasn't that type of yelp— immediately shut the door, sunghoon just fucked your poor cunt harder. "fu-fucking hell can't get any privacy in this dorm." he hissed, tears wielding in your eyes as he abused your poor cunt, he slapped your ass extra hard. "don't think i didn't feel your slutty pussy clenching around my dick when he came in."

"fucking slut, you like when people watch you being fucked past your limits."

©️LUVYENI

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sunarc · 3 months

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Doctors who want to ease your nerves, so to help you relax, he makes you cum on his fingers. His gloved hand is shoved so deep inside that you can’t help the way your back arches off the chair, pushing your body closer to him. Your moans fill the room, bouncing off the walls. "Shhh, poor thing,” he coos, looking softly at your shaking figure. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel so good." His fingers feel so thick, gliding in and out of you. You’re trying to keep quiet, knowing there may be nurses passing by, but the way he’s spreading you open with your fingers leaves you a moaning mess.

“Don’t stop, please; I’m so close,” you whimper. Your hand clings to his white coat, desperately pulling him closer. He leans down to you, pressing wet kisses on your skin. A soft chuckle vibrates against your skin when he hears how you beg for him. “So wet for me,” he groans. He can feel himself getting impossibly hard listening to the sounds of your squelching hole. “Want you to make a mess for me, okay?” His voice is so soft. Any anxiety you felt is long gone. Your eyes are wide when you meet his gaze. He makes you feel warm all over. Your stare moves down to his fingers, which are moving in and out of you at a quick pace. "Ah, ah, ah, back up here, baby, I want you to look at me.” You feel dizzy. His stare is constant. He wants to see how good he’s making his patient feel. He needs to see the look on his favorite patient’s face when you finally cum on his fingers. His finger curls into you as he hits the spot that has you clawing onto him, whining about how close you are. "Yeah, come on, let go for me,” he whispers, "but don’t you dare take your eyes off of me." Your hand moves around, knocking over tissue and a box of gloves as you attempt to grab onto something. You never would’ve thought one appointment to get a physical would lead to you with your leg on your doctor's shoulder while he pushed you to an orgasm. "Fuck, look at you drooling all over my hand.” His eyes look up at your face, covered in bliss, too far gone to focus. "It makes me want to have a taste." He leans down to your core and takes a deep breath. “You even smell tasty." He leans close, his breath fanning against your warmth. “One lick won’t hurt." His tongue feels warm, gliding between your warmth. He licks at your clit humming a satisfied tune to your taste. “You drive me so crazy,” he moans in between licks. “You come into my office with these short skirts all the time,” he groans. "And you expect me to keep my composure?” he tsks as if disappointed. "You need to learn your lesson, don’t you?" He sucked your clit while his fingers continued fucking into you at a constant pace. His mouth was driving you crazy. You gripped his hair, calling out for him. “Come on, baby, let me get a taste.” His groans vibrated against your core. Your fingernails dug into the seat as you neared your orgasm. You see stars as his tongue continues licking long strips up and down your core. “That’s it, just like that. Let go for me; you're doing so good." His praises make you shake. Your body trembles while your juices spray wildly, dripping down his chin and spilling into his glove-covered hand. He pulls away with a pleased smile. He rips the glove off and tosses it away. “You did really well today; I think I’d like to see you next week… for another check-up.”

Nanami, Higuruma, Levi, Erwin, Eren, Daichi, Suguwara, Osamu, Geto, Gojo, Akaashi, Iwaizumi, Kuroo

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jaykaysthicthighs · 10 months

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Kiss Me Better | JJK

excerpt | jungkook said some really mean things to you when you started coming home so late. when he realizes how horrible he was, he tried making it up to you.

genre | angst, fluff, hurt /comfort

pairing | jeon jungkook x fem!reader

warnings | strong language, unintentional manhandle, jk being a jerk in the beginning, reader puts him in his place, lots of crying, hating oneself

wc | 4k+

notes | i tried my best to make something emotional, and i'm hoping it turned out well :)

It was around ten at night and you still weren't home. This has been going on for about a week now, and Jungkook is tired of it. He wanted answers as to why you were always late.

He was sitting in the living room with his legs bouncing, waiting for you to come home. He was anxious to thrust this issue onto you, but he felt like you were neglecting him; that maybe you might be cheating. Jungkook was never one to judge your faithfulness, but ever since you started coming home late every possible idea started popping up in his head. And when he tried talking to you about it, you would wave him off saying that you're tired.

Jungkook heard the familiar car beep. He got up instantly and trudged his way near the end of the entryway. He saw the doorknob twist open to reveal the fatigued woman he called "his". He watched you take off your shoes and place them on the shoe rack, throwing your work purse on the entryway table. It wasn't until you were steps away that you noticed your lover at the end of the hall.

Your body perked up at the sight of your boyfriend. You dragged your feet to Jungkook and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Hey, baby." But before Jungkook had time to greet you back, you were already sprawled out on the couch. Jungkook made a face of disdain to himself; how could you treat him like this. He felt hurt by your action. He took a minute to compose himself; he didn't want to confront you with rage coursing through his body.

Once he was calm, Jungkook made a beeline to you. He saw that your eyes were already closed; you looked very exhausted. He wanted to leave you alone, that he will have this conversation with you some other time, but he thought against it. Jungkook cleared his throat, making you open your eyes. You did a light stretch on the couch. "What is it, babe?" Jungkook took a shape inhale, "I want to talk to you."

You instantly sat up. In your four years of dating, Jungkook rarely says the words "I want to talk to you.", every time they get spoken, they would usually lead to arguments. Your attention was wide awake; you were getting nervous about what this conversation might lead to. "What is it, Jungkook?"

Jungkook clenched his jaw, tightening his facial muscles. With gritted teeth, Jungkook seethed, "I want to know why you've been coming home so late now?" You were shocked, to say the least. You knew that coming home so late would bring suspicion to your boyfriend, but you didn't think that he would be this angry.

"Umm... I..." You didn't know what to say to him. You wanted to tell him the reason, but you didn't want to ruin the surprise. Jungkook didn't like the fact that you were hesitating. You were always honest with him, never afraid to be blunt. "Why the hell are you hesitating, ____? You're fucking some other man, aren't you?" he yelled.

Your body jolted at his interrogation. His words were harsh, sending goosebumps through your body. You didn't like his assumption of you cheating. You stood up and questioned, "You think I'm cheating on you?" Your voice was laced with warning; warning that if he thought that way of you, you wouldn't be afraid to stand your ground.

One thing that Jungkook would never admit, is that every time you gave him this certain type of tone, he feels like being buried six feet under. Jungkook gulped down some spit that he didn't know was being harbored. "I don't know. You could be." You scoffed at his words, "Fuck you. I don't have time for this. I'm going to bed." You turned your body in the direction of the bedroom.

As you started walking, you heard Jungkook hysterically laughing. He growled, "Fuck me? No, fuck you, ____!" Before you halted your movement, Jungkook stomped his way to you and tightly latched his hand to your wrist, pulling you towards him. You yelped at the sudden action, pain taking hold of your arm. Jungkook immediately lets go. He was about to apologize, but you beat the gun.

You pushed him to the carpeted floor, holding your wrist to your heart. Tears started welling up. Never in a million years did you think Jungkook would say those things to you. The physical pain could not compare to the pain you were feeling emotionally. You cried out to him, "You wanna know why I've been coming home so late? You wanna know why I'm always so tired?" At this point, your tears were freely flowing. Jungkook was on the floor, not moving an inch, but he so badly wanted to wipe your tears away.

You bellowed, "It's not because I'm fucking some other man, Jungkook! It's because I took in overtime at work! I took in some extra hours to earn more money for our trip!" Jungkook was stunned at your confession. Shame taking its place in his heart. How could he accuse you of cheating? How could he say those hurtful things to you?

You softly added, "Do you remember two weeks ago, when we were talking about our parents? You had missed yours so badly because you hadn't seen them in months. You wanted to go visit them, but we didn't have the money." Jungkook started crying; he was starting to realize your reason. You faced the other way, not wanting to see Jungkook cry. You knew if you did, you would fall prey to him. He hurt you, and you didn't want to fall so easily.

Jungkook cried harder, and hearing him, so did you. You tried containing any sound leaving your mouth, coming out muffled. You sniffled, "I wanted to surprise you this Sunday. I was going to buy the tickets and book the hotel room tomorrow. I didn't want to tell you this way." Jungkook was biting his lips so hard when you were talking; he almost drew blood. When he felt your presence fading, he shot up and gently looped his arms around your torso.

He cried to you, tears falling on your shoulders, making your shirt damp. "Baby, I'm so-" You intervened, "Stop." You unhooked his arms apart. "Just stop, Jungkook. I'm tired." Jungkook shook his head vigorously. He wanted you to know how shameful he feels; apologize until you're tired of hearing it. "____, please. I'm so sorry."

You whipped your body around, facing him. You demanded, "Shut up, Jungkook! I said I'm tired, okay? We'll talk about this later." And after your ending sentence, you marched your way to the bedroom, not giving Jungkook a second to respond.

You plopped yourself on the shared bed, taking off your clothing, only leaving you in your underwear. You would've loved to have Jungkook wrap his arms around you while you went to sleep, but right now you just wanted to be alone. It only took a few minutes for your tears to start flowing again, and this time you didn't stop them. You let the tears, the darkness, and the warmth of the blanket lull you to sleep.

Jungkook on the other hand, was sitting on the couch pondering about his actions - his words. He hated himself for what he did. The way he talked to you, the way he gripped your wrist with so much force, the way he doubted your faithfulness; accused you of cheating. You are everything to him. He would move hell and heaven if you demanded it. You could say the vilest insult to him, throw your hardest punch and he'll still run back to you. He would do anything and everything just for you, but at the moment he didn't deserve you. You were the light of his life, but he knew that tonight he had dimmed you.

You woke up with the biggest headache. You haven't felt like this in years, so emotionally drained. The last time was when you had officially cut off ties with your mother. She never really approved of Jungkook, always calling him a bad influence. She was the type of person to judge the exterior before knowing what was on the inside. Hating Jungkook is an understatement, she loathed him.

You love your mother, but all the things she said about Jungkook stirred you away from appreciating her presence. He didn't want you to cut communications with her, but it was not only for him but for your sanity. The longer you kept in contact, the more you'll start going crazy about her foolish assumptions about your boyfriend. It was hard cutting her off, but it was definitely needed.

You rolled off of the bed, not caring that you were basically nude. You stumbled your way to the door, wanting to go to the bathroom. When you opened the door, you found Jungkook laying right against the beige wall. His appearance was rugged. His hair sticking up from every angle, and the faint smell of beer, he was still wearing the same clothes from last night.

Your heart tingled at the feeling that Jungkook must have stayed out here for you, wanting to be close to you, but also giving you your space. But then the reoccurring memory from last night punched its way through your brain. You slammed the door, stirring Jungkook awake. For a split second, Jungkook thought lighting came striking down to their house. His body jumped from the sudden bang, hitting his head against the wall in the process. He rubbed the sore area, hoping the action would ease the pain.

He didn't know what happened. He looked around the area for anything that might have caused the loud sound. But then he heard shuffling on the other side of the door. Jungkook got up without a second thought and was about to knock. His fist hovered the wooden entrance. He wanted to knock, but he was scared. After everything that he had done, he was worried that you wouldn't want to see him again.

Moments go by until Jungkook finally knocked on the door. "Baby?" he softly said. "Baby, can I come in?" He waited for your response, but all that answered him was silence. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Jungkook has never felt this nervous. He took a deep breath, "I'm gonna come in, ____. Okay?" He tapped his fingers against his thigh a few times, trying to calm the bundle of nerves. With one more deep breath, Jungkook carefully opened the bedroom door.

In his line of sight, Jungkook saw you curled up in the bed, the blanket hugging your body for security. He saw the throw pillows along with your clothes scattered across the floor; the whole atmosphere was messy. You were always the clean one in the relationship, so the fact that you couldn't care for the unkempt room made Jungkook more nervous than he already was.

Jungkook tried navigating his way to you, but he still wound up stepping on your clothes. When he got to you, he sat on the edge of the bed next to you silently. None of you guys peeped a word; the air was tense. You wanted to speak to him first, to yell at him for his absurdity, but you're also stubborn. So, you waited for Jungkook to talk first. Jungkook knew how you were; he knew that you were itching to say something first, but you were headstrong on finishing last.

He took it in himself to speak first. "____, I want to tell you how incredibly sorry I am, and that I regret everything that I had said." He looked at your covered figure with much sorrow. He wanted to see your beautiful face, even if you were to give him the most angered look. "Baby, can you please look at me?" You meekly spoke, "No."

A few tears threatened to escape his eyes. Jungkook took a deep breath and brought out his hand to cup your face. He slowly turned your head to face him, and you made no retaliation to his actions. Your face showed no emotion, but Jungkook saw the pain swimming in your eyes. He hurt you deeply, and he hurt you hard. "Please, know how sorry I am."

You took his hand away from your face. You rolled your eyes; you were tired of hearing it. "I know how sorry you are, Jungkook. I can see from your body language, your facial expression. I can hear it in your voice, okay? I know... So, please stop saying it." He nodded his head, understanding what you were saying. "I'm sor-"

"Jungkook!" you warned. "If all you're going to do is say sorry, then leave me alone." You went back to your previous position, trying to ignore your boyfriend's presence. He definitely knows how to push your buttons. Jungkook didn't want to leave this situation alone like this; he wanted to make it better. So, he said the first thing that came to mind, "Tell me where I hurt you, and I'll kiss it better."

You jested his words, "Kiss it better? Seriously?" Jungkook couldn't see your face, but by the tone of your words, he knew that the idea was stupid. But stupid or not Jungkook wanted to make you feel better. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Yeah. It can be a start, right?" You took a minute to reel in the idea. It could maybe be a start.

You clicked your tongue and brought your wrist to his face. Without facing Jungkook, you demanded, "It didn't bruise, but you really hurt me here. So... kiss it." Jungkook gave a tiny smile; he was happy that you were open to his idea. He carefully grabbed your arm, making sure to not touch the area he has hurt you. Jungkook's soft touch sent small currents through your body. He brought your pained wrist to his lips and placed small but mellow kisses on them. Afterward, Jungkook rubbed the area with his thumb, hoping that it would soothe the pain.

He docile his voice, "Where else?" You were thinking of a place where he should kiss next, and during that time you positioned your body forward. Jungkook watched you readjust your body; you had looked so cute to him.

You looked at Jungkook with a stern expression, and said, "My ears, from hearing you talk shit to me." Jungkook invisibly flinched at your words, but a slight hint of grimace surfaced. He bent down to you and positioned his lips to your ear. He gave you a kiss, and the small smack of the contact rang. With his lips pressed against your ear, Jungkook quietly spoke, "Tell me more, baby. Where else are you hurt?" His breath shadowed your skin, leaving you dumb.

When you stayed quiet, Jungkook got a little concerned. He lifted his head up, his face inches away from yours. "Baby?" You saw the worriedness etched into his face, creating crease lines on his skin. He placed his forehead on yours and stared deeply into your eyes. He could still see that you were angry, but slowly he saw a bit of softness take place. You didn't want to admit that your boyfriend's idea was proving right, but his gentle kisses were so hard to ignore. It's like Jungkook has this magic spell where you could never say no.

You gulped down some spit, you didn't want to choke when you talked. "My eyes. You made them painstakingly teary." You had closed your eyes for Jungkook to kiss. He took a second to stare at them. Even with your eyes closed, you could still make out the redness around them. The more he looked, the more Jungkook hated himself for your pain. With each kiss of your eyelids, Jungkook had closed his, projecting his pain to himself.

When it was done, Jungkook remorsefully uttered, "____ - baby... I'm so sorry. Ev-" You interjected, "I have one more place that I want you to kiss better." Jungkook replied, "Of course. I'll kiss wherever you want." You slightly sat up; your upper back pressed against the headboard of your guy's bed. You choked, "Kiss my heart. Out of all the places you have hurt me, my heart hurts the most." You didn't want to sound choked, but you couldn't help it. "Please, kiss me better, Jungkook." you cried.

Jungkook's heart panged harshly at your pained confession. He started crying; his heart broke into a million pieces. The one place where he vowed to not hurt at the start of your guy's relationship, he did. You tried watching your boyfriend intensely, but your tears were blurring your vision.

Jungkook moved his hand to the blanket that was still covering you. It slid down and your breast was fully seen. Usually, Jungkook would be surprised at your nudity when he wasn't expecting it, but right now, all that Jungkook could see - could focus on was the area that your heart resided in. He looped one arm around your bare torso, gently pulling you towards him, and the other rested along your back.

He kissed your heart with so much tenderness. He cried while doing so, his tears falling on your bare skin. You couldn't stop the waterworks once his soft lips landed on you. Jungkook kept kissing you, hoping that each kiss took away the pain he had caused, but the more he did the more you cried. He had hurt you too much that even the kisses couldn't heal you.

Jungkook moved his head away from your chest and fully grabbed you. He hugged you tightly, just letting you cry your pain out to him. He didn't know what to say, all he could really do was comfort you. Jungkook placed one of his hands on your nape, while the other did long comforting strokes on your back. You heard Jungkook trying to shush you, not in a mean way, but to relax you, but it didn't work.

What felt like hours were only minutes, you had finally calmed down. You pulled away from Jungkook. You spotted a big wet mark on his shirt. You apologized profusely for making his shirt dirty. Jungkook only laughed; he didn't care that your snot and tears - possibly your saliva were on his shirt, hell, he wouldn't care if you even threw up on him. All that he cared about right now was how you were feeling.

You were about to wipe your face on your arm, but you didn't have a shirt on. "I'm sorry, I look horrible right now." Jungkook shook his head at your words. "You don't have to be sorry. You don't look horrible right now. To me, you look beautifully messy." You blushed at his compliment. "Yeah, but I still have snot and tears all over my face."

Jungkook sarcastically rolled his eyes. He jumped off of the bed and stood in front of you. He bundled his shirt up to his chest and carefully pulled you towards him. You were confused at first, but then you realized he was going to wipe your face with his shirt - like a mother. When he did, Jungkook shrugged, "It's already dirty, so, don't worry about it. Plus, nothing like a few more bodily fluids, right?" You felt like laughing at his rhetorical question, but all you could feel was the guilt for ruining your boyfriend's shirt.

Jungkook chucked his dirty shirt on the messy floor and climbed into bed with you. He hesitated on pulling you close to him; he didn't want to push any boundaries you might have set on him. "Is it okay if I hold you?" Instead of answering his question, you pulled him towards you. You buried your face in his chest. You wanted Jungkook to hold but he wasn't. You murmured against his skin, "Why aren't you holding me?"

"I didn't know if I was supposed to." You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's build. "Well, I want you to hold me." And like so, Jungkook held you close. He buried his face in your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent. If Jungkook were to die right now, he would die a happy man; being in your arms, breathing you in is all he could ever ask for.

Before speaking Jungkook licked his lips, "____, I want to tell - shit! Babe, ow!" You had kicked Jungkook to further stop his sentence. "Like I said before, if you're going to keep apologizing then please leave. Because honestly, babe, I'm really tired of hearing you say that." Jungkook chuckled at your annoyance. "I wasn't going to apologize if that makes you happy. I was going to say how regretful I am to accuse you of cheating. How regretful I am of gripping you hard on the wrist. Cursing and yelling at you. I regret everything that happened last night."

You held Jungkook tighter to you. In situations similar to this, Jungkook was always the one comforting you; you were the stubborn one in the relationship. It was kind of hard being on the opposite side. You tried your best of comforting Jungkook, but you couldn't really do it physically, that spectrum resides for Jungkook.

So, you did what you do best, you comforted him verbally. "I know I can't ask you to feel a certain way, but know this, Jungkook," You lifted your head up to him, and expressed, "Everything that happened last night could never erase my four years of love for you. What you did to me definitely hurt me, but you cannot shoulder all of this guilt. I also was at fault."

Jungkook pulled away slightly. He couldn't believe what he heard. He denied, "No! You did nothing wrong." You furrowed your brows. "But I did, Jungkook! If I hadn't kept this a secret... if I had just told you my reason for being out so long, we wouldn't be in this predicament. I should have told you, and for that, I'm sorry." Jungkook wanted to argue your statement, but the look on your face was pleading with him to forgive you.

Jungkook shimmied his way down to you, eyes meeting at the same level. He pushed some of your hair away from your face, tucking them behind your ear. Your beauty was something to treasure. Jungkook smiled, "You're so beautiful, baby. If you want me to forgive you, I need you to forgive me as well."

You lifted your pointer finger up when an idea came to mind. "One last request," Jungkook smirked, wondering what trick you have up your sleeve. You continued on, "Kiss me on the lips and I'll forgive you."

You didn't have to tell him twice. Jungkook smashed his lips on yours, taking you all in. He cupped your jaw in between his hands, holding you tightly. Your small moans drowning in your lover's mouth. Your wondering hands feel the toned muscles beneath your fingertips. Somewhere along the way, you climbed on top of Jungkook. The slight grinding you were doing on his lap made him jolt. He softly gripped your arms and pushed you away.

"Baby, I think we should stop, because if we continue this, I don't think I'll have the urge to control my craving." You jumped on his lap, taunting him. Jungkook wasn't having it, so, he switched your positions; you were laying underneath him, while he trapped you between his arms. "Didn't I say you should stop?" he growled.

All you did was grin like a kid who won a stuffed animal at a carnival. You wrapped your arms around Jungkook's - somewhat sweaty neck. God only knows how much you love this man. If a home was a person, he would be yours. You proclaimed, "I love you so much, Jungkook." Jungkook saw the love swirling in your irises; his heart swarmed with adoration for you. As a response, he said, "I love you, ___. I could never love anybody as much as I love you."

You guys kissed one more time before going back to cuddling. In the middle of basking in each other's presence, you blurted, "Oh god, we have to buy the tickets today. Not only that, but we also hav-" Jungkook placed his rough hand on top of your mouth. “Shhh... It's cuddle time, babe." You pushed his hand away and giggled. You wished there was a word more than love, maybe devotion, but you really love Jungkook.

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maroonsoul · 4 months

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cw : sub!afab!geto, dom!male!reader, dirty talk, degrading, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, kind of free use kink?.

additional note : felt the need to get mean and he was the best victim.

it all started when you simply came back from a long day at work, expecting a few cuddles from your boyfriend Suguru who stayed home that day. until you heard familiar sounds coming from your shared bedroom.

what a sight it was ; dildo glued to your desk that was creaking at every stupid bounce from your boyfriend who was panting, eyes closed and trembling from the effort. you leaned your shoulder on the doorframe and admired the show for a few minutes, staying completely silent as your crotch tightened.

Suguru was completely out of it, hair loose and wearing nothing but an unbuttoned blouse that dramatically fell over one single shoulder. how lucky you were to have this angel of a man completely at your mercy. “what did I say about jerking off while i’m at work ?” you say calmly.

he stops his movement and drops down the dildo, the tip hitting deep inside his cunt making him fight the urge to let out a lewd moan. his hand was glued to his clit, you guessed he made himself cum multiple times by now. “are you deaf ?” you snorted.

he would love to answer you, really. but the fear mixing up with the adrenaline made him completely unable to get anything out but whimpers. he wanted to explain that this was a mistake ! you must understand, he was so bored and pent up from waiting for your arrival ! surely you could forgive him, right ?

you took a few steps closer, Suguru’s cunt was still filled with the dildo. “did it feel good ? how many times did you cum ?” Suguru nodded dumbly at your words, you chuckled at his state. “get up.” and so he did. he couldn’t really dare to disobey any more orders from you, he couldn’t allow it.

you watched his pussy sliding out of the big plastic dick, as his legs almost gave out you were quick to grab him. he looked up at you, cheeks flushed and eyes glistening with lust. after all this mess he still wasn’t satisfied. “oh my sweet baby. look at you.. you’re all sweaty.” your words were as soft as a feather, this couldn’t be good.

“do you want me to help you ?” he nodded again,

“speak.” you said firmly. “cmon, are you a fucking mutt ?” you grabbed his face strongly, squishing his cheeks together as muffled sounds came out of his mouth.

“he-help me.. please. with this..?” those were the only words Suguru managed to form. you smiled widely and helped him get on top of the mattress. you’d be a fool not to use this as an excuse to get even meaner. he let out soft pants as he tried to steady his breathing pattern and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t completely excited about what would come out of this.

you unbuckled your belt and pulled down your pants just enough so he could see the happy trail on your lower abdomen. Suguru’s cheeks flushed at the sight, as if it was the first time you two ever got intimate. you slowly got on top of him, both your arms caging him and your eyes devouring his entire body. you lips found their place on his, that were messily trying to answer to your aggressiveness.

he moaned in your mouth while your hand rested on his belly on which you traced circles on with the tip of your index. suddenly, you grabbed both his legs and bent them enough so his cunt was facing your crotch. it wasn’t too complicated to slide inside his pussy, and the feeling was unreal to you. warm and wet just how you liked it.

Suguru panted loudly at the first thrusts, it was so much different from the earlier dildo. your cock fit perfectly, every vein hitting every sweet spots inside him. it filled him up so good he couldn’t even breathe properly, his mouth opening and closing like a complete idiot. while his legs were close to his ears, “feels better doesn’t it baby ?” you cooed and he couldn’t even hear you.

you watched his toned pecs bounce at every movement, his black hair sprawled on the white mattress and his face completely angelic.

“if you were so horny, you could’ve called me. but instead..” Suguru whimpered at one particular thrust. “you decided to act like a cheap whore.” your hands grabbed his hips so tightly he knew it would leave cute red marks the day after. you fastened your pace, admiring how stupid he looked at the moment.

“is that what you are Suguru ? a cheap whore that likes to bounce ?” you said harshly and gently slapped his cheek a few times to wake him up. “answer me you fucking slut.”

but he couldn’t. in the state he was in, he couldn’t form any coherent sentences. you smiled knowing he was too fucked up to answer and kept on thrusting inside him, you felt his cunt tighten around your cock and understood that he was close. if he wanted to feel good, why not give him that ?

so you did, you let him cum first. but you didn’t stop. even if his eyes rolled back, even if his throat let the most dry sounds ever, even if his hair started to stick on his forehead, it didn’t matter. what mattered is that he’d remember that if he acts like a whore, he’ll get fucked like one.

“wanna have my babies Suguru ?~” you let out a fake smile and came inside his puffy cunt with a long moan. he gasped at the feeling of your cum spilling inside his pussy, feeling like he was your toy ready to get used. which he gladly was, with no question.

#zaire writes #dom reader #jjk smut #sub character #sub jjk #sub geto #sub getou #sub suguru #sub geto suguru #male reader #geto smut #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen smut

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moonchildstyles · 23 days

Note

First time sex with rosemary 🌿

wordcount: 9k

—————

Wiping her floured hands on her apron, (Y/N) brushed her hair out of her face with her wrist before reaching towards her back pocket for her vibrating phone. Her lips curled into a soft smile seeing Harry's name on her screen, his contact featuring a photo of him sleepy-eyed next to his kitten in her bed had her smile stretching wider. Taking a quick glance at the time, she was sure he'd just made it back to his apartment after finishing up at the grocery store.

Quickly, she peeled her gloves from her hands and peeked out into the storefront of the bakery. Just as she had left it a handful of minutes before, there weren't any patrons now that the morning rush had passed, leaving Sabrina tucked behind the desk with her book folded open.

"Hey, I'm going to take my fifteen really quick. Is that okay?" As soon as Sabrina gave her the go ahead with a wave of her hand with her eyes still stuck to her book, (Y/N) was answering the call with a tap of her thumb. "Harry?" she greeted, stepping out back of the bakery for a bit of privacy in the mid-morning air.

"Hi, peach," he murmured through the receiver, voice drooping and soft, "Is it alright that I called you? I know you're still working, so."

"Your timing was perfect, actually," she told him, knowing he was probably more worried than he was letting on for fear of having ruined her day, "Everything just cleared out from this morning, and I needed a break."

"Yeah? Long shift already?" he pressed, the sound of sheets shuffling on the other side with a petite meow chirping through.

"A little bit, yeah," she sighed, wishing she was wrapped up in warm sheets with Harry and Rosemary, "Just one of those Sunday morning shifts, you know. How was your night, though? Work was okay?"

"Yeah," he said, the syllable floating out on a long suffering sigh, "Theo and Brett were still annoying, but I think Fawn is going to cover one of my shifts this week."

(Y/N) immediately perked up at the new information. She'd been urging him to take some time off this past month; he didn't have to work himself to the bone anymore, not now that his issues from back home had been resolved. It was unhealthy, she'd told him more than once—he would make himself sick with more than just exhaustion if he wasn't careful.

"Really? What day?" she bubbled off, ready and willing to shift her own schedule around if he wanted.

"Thursday."

She could hear the smile in his voice as he uttered the words. He knew what reaction he was going to get.

"Are you serious?" she beamed, bouncing on the soles of her feet, "You have the whole weekend off then?"

"I do, yeah. So do you."

"Harry," she bleated, "I'm so excited! We haven't had any time together I feel like, and now we get a whole weekend! Thank you!"

"That's what I was thinking when I made my request; barely seen you this past week. 'S not fair."

"It's not," she affirmed, "You haven't even been able to sleep over since Friday. I'm not used to that."

"Me neither, peach," he murmured, his tone decidedly more somber than just a moment before though she understood where he was coming from.

Ever since their impromptu road trip, they tended to have as many sleepovers as their schedules would allow. Besides the comfort that came along with being at each other's side—especially in the case of Harry's frequent nightmares—, it was hard to forget how much they liked sharing a bed and sitting down for meals together.

"Did you want to do anything special?" she prompted, already racking her brain for anything that Harry would enjoy leaving the house for.

"I've got to go to the library at some point," he mused, another chirping meow sounding from the background prompting a huff of laughter to leave his lips, "But, other than that, I was hoping I could catch up on m'sleep."

"We can do that," (Y/N) decided, shifting her view of the days off to turn into cozy sheets and breakfasts in bed, "A weekend long sleepover. We'll make a thing of it."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, a smile audible in his tone—a vision that had (Y/N)'s chest warming. "How are we gonna do that?"

She hummed, sifting through her ideas before landing on a few to share, "Probably movies if we have the attention span for it—if not, we can read together or something. We can do face masks too—Ooh, or I'll get another of that hair mask you like. Let me think, but I have some ideas."

"'M sure y'do, peach," he murmured, his voice decidedly lower and slower than before, sleep vining around the edges of his words, "Whatever y'want, we'll do. I trust you."

"I'll make sure we make a thing of it, H," she told him, reluctant to say her next words but knowing he needed to get as much sleep as he could manage, "I've got to get back to the ovens, but I'll text you when I'm off."

"Yeah?" he mumbled, "Tell me when y'get home?"

"You've got it," she smiled, feeling the winter sun warm on her cheeks, "Goodnight, H."

"Goodnight, peach."

With that, (Y/N) ended the call. Hopefully, he would be able to sleep through the rest of her shift at least. He just needed to get through the next few days, then he'd have some time off to spend at her gingerbread house.

The thought had that soft curl on her lips feeling permanent. She would have to remind him how proud she was that he was taking a couple of days off, the time well-deserved.

Just like she said, she would make a thing of it, she only had to figure out what a thing for Harry looked like.

—————

With Rosemary wriggling in his arms, Harry nearly fumbled his keys to the ground while on (Y/N)'s stoop. She was a calm little thing nearly any other time of the day, but as soon as they were at (Y/N)'s door, Rosie couldn't settle.

Keeping his hold on her tight, he was able to finally stumble through the door before letting her spill out of his arms. Her feet pattered over the hardwood, beelining for the kitchen just as he knew she would. Harry could only shake his head as he kicked off his shoes by the door, setting them next to (Y/N)'s under the foyer table. He couldn't stay mad, though, especially not when he heard the familiar cooing of his peach filtering down the hall.

"Where's your daddy, Rosie?" (Y/N) crooned, voice a soft murmur through the house, "We've got to talk to him about how hungry you are when you come over. Is he not giving you enough treats?"

Following the sound of her voice, Harry's lips curled instinctively into a soft smile when he spotted (Y/N) crouched next to his kitten, fingers massaging through her fur. There was a part of him that wanted to peer out the small window above her sink, ensuring no one was watching in—a part of him that he forcefully tamped down in favor of reveling in the sight of his stitched family.

"You know I feed her," he drawled, leaning against the threshold of the entrance, "I don't know why she acts like this when we come over."

It was the way (Y/N)'s features seemingly bloomed when she looked up at him. Her hand absently continued petting Rosemary, but it was clear all of her attention was splashed upon him. It was when her eyes were on him with nothing but adoration that had Harry happily anchored to the moment, warm and comfortable in his skin. He hoped he was able to make her feel that way when he looked at her.

"Hey, H," she smiled, giving one last stroke to Rosie before she was standing to her feet and crossing the kitchen towards him, "I was going to ask you how work was, but you're on vacation."

"I am, aren't I?" he mused, collecting her into his arms.

(Y/N) looped her arms around his neck while he hugged her around her middle, face cradled into the crook of her neck. His eyes fell closed reflexively, his chest expanding as he pulled in a deep breath. The sugary scent of her skin filled his lungs, her hair tickling his nose.

"Are you excited?" she asked, trailing her fingers up and into his hair as she drew away.

Matching her eyes, her question drifted away in favor of tipping forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. A giggled out his name against his mouth, muttering something about answering her, though Harry didn't pay it any mind. He focused on the give of her lips under his, the seam parting when she eventually melted into him. Her hands in his hair was a warming tether, keeping him from drifting out of her pastel kitchen.

It was her that pulled away first, cutting off his indulgences earlier than he liked. He attempted to chase after her, craning his neck with puckered lips, though that only granted him a peal of her laughter fluttering between them.

"Not in front of Rosie, H," she teased, unwrapping from his arms to move towards the stove where a warm oven and bubbling pan had gone unnoticed before.

Harry stood back, watching as she stirred and tasted and adjusted, clicking on the light in her oven to take a peek inside. No matter how many times he'd offered to make dinner, take care of her meals—told her that he liked cooking, even—she had insisted that she wanted to take care of him, take one worry off of his plate. When she put it that way, he didn't feel like fighting with her.

"She's seen worse, peach," he countered, leaning over the peninsula counter with his forearms flat on the surface. He had a perfect view into the domestic dream that was his (Y/N), complete with a bow in her hair despite the mess of a bun on the top of her head.

A small laugh fell from her lips as she looked over her shoulder at him, "Maybe, but we shouldn't encourage it. Dinner's almost ready anyway, so we don't need to be distracted."

"Yeah? What'd y'make?" He could see just the edges of something creamy in the pot she was stirring.

"Sabrina's family is visiting, and her dad gave me this recipe for stuffed shells with all this cheese and, like, spinach and stuff. I thought we'd try it out." She gave him a beaming smile when she finished whatever she was stirring, taking it off of the burner with the timer on the oven ticking down to less than two minutes.

"That sounds really nice, love. Thank you. I've got dishes tonight."

"Harry." A small scold—as expected.

"(Y/N)," he responded in the same arguing tone as she, "You're letting me—and my cat—stay here all weekend, 'm not letting us leave a mess here for you too. 'S alright."

This was one of those things he didn't allow much room for argument on. It was one of those things—fear of feeling like a burden—that had come with the years on the run while attempting to ensure his impact was never felt. He was working on it, sure, but the least he could do for all of (Y/N)'s kindness was taking care of the dishes.

"Okay," she relented, eyes rounding out as she looked up at him, "Just not tonight, though. I have something special for you after dinner."

He did recall her saying something about making this weekend a thing for him, he just didn't really know what exactly that meant. "And, what's that?"

A sheepish look crossed her face, softening her features and lining her eyes. "It's kind of silly, but I got some fun bath things and, like, candles and stuff. I wanted to make everything a little special tonight since it's your first extra, real day off in a long time."

The longer she went on explaining herself, Harry could feel his own lips curling into a small smile. "Really?" he asked when she finally took a breath.

"Yeah," she started, dropping her eyes from his, "But, you don't have to use them or anything if you don't want to. I know it might not really be your thing, and all."

"Love," he crooned, the petname falling from his lips just for her to hear, "Thank you. That sounds really nice actually—don't remember the last time I took a bath like that. 'M always too worried about the water running cold."

(Y/N)'s expression brightened at his words. "I'm excited for you to see all the stuff I got for you, then. But only after dinner—and dessert."

"Dessert?"

"Of course dessert," (Y/N) smiled, moving back to the oven on the brink of beeping, "But that's a surprise."

It was the way she looked at him before she gave her attention to the oven and baking pasta, how bubbly she seemed over something as simple as a surprise sweet for him to have at the end of the meal. That was what had him all but melting into the countertop. She could have fed him garbage and left him to soak in an ice bath and he'd be just as happy—all he needed was for her to keep looking at him like that.

—————

"Are y'sure y'don't want me to do the dishes tonight?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling out of Harry's embrace to head towards the kitchen and the plates waiting by the sink. "Yes, I'm sure, H. I want you to relax this weekend, I don't mind doing a couple of plates."

"But—"

"No," (Y/N) cut him off, plugging the sink before beginning to fill the basin with soapy water, "As soon as I get this ready, we're going to my bathroom and I'm showing you all the stuff I got for you, and then you're going to not think about the kitchen again for the rest of the night."

"I'm not?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips at her insistence. Sometimes it was fun to argue with her for no other reason than he liked to see her put her foot down with a smoke to her gaze.

He thought it was cute.

"Nope. Not even for a second." Amusement covered her own features by the time she cut the tap and turned to face him. "C'mon."

With that, she flitted out of the kitchen with socked feet padding over the flooring. She didn't have to look back to know Harry was following.

Tailing her through the house with his gaze carefully landing on the round of her hips as they swayed with her steps, she took him to her bathroom. There, on the counter, was a brown paper bag with a white painted logo on the front. A gifting ribbon had the handles tied together on top, a tag with his name dangling from the tendril.

In presentation, (Y/N) stood off to the side of the counter, a beaming smile on her face as she flourished her hands out. "Happy free weekend."

"What's this, hm?" he hummed, stepping over the tile with his gaze narrowed teasingly in her direction.

"Your bath stuff," she said, practically bouncing in her spot as he began reluctantly untying the bow. He wanted to keep it perfect—he couldn't remember the last time he received a gift, especially one like this.

Harry could feel his eyes on her as he began digging through the bag. Floating on top were two powdery spheres, striped in alternating colors with dried flowers stamped inside. He settled them gently on the counter, his hands coming away with remnants of the sweet smelling dust.

"They're bath bombs," (Y/N) piped up, "They're those things that dissolve in the water and make it colorful with all these nice skin things in them. The purple one is lavender and sage, and the blue one is lotus and jasmine."

Smiling at her explanation, he reached back inside the bag. A glass bottle filled with sweet smelling oil was his next find, the wax seal corking it closed having dripped its way down to the label. He could smell the warm, floral notes from here, even with the contents sealed away. Looking at the simple label wrapped around the thick of the bottle, he looked up at her with raised brows.

"Massage oil?"

It was the way she hesitated that had his lips stretching into a smile. "Its—I—It doesn't have to be used for that. It can just be a nice body oil if you want, but I... I mean if you want a massage, I could use that, so."

So far, this was his favorite gift from her reaction alone. He settled it with a clink next to the bath bombs. "I'll keep that in mind."

Next in line was a candle, standing tall in a cold glass voice in the bag. Pulling it out, the four wicks were sealed away with the help of the suctioned lid, showing off the marbling of the wax tucked inside. It was a swirling jade color, complete with lapping white streaks to emulate the gemstone. Under the just right light, he could see bursts of glitter suspended inside. The label boasted a vanilla sage scent, surely meant to match the sage bath bomb he'd picked up earlier.

"Peach," he smiled, looking at his gifts spread out on the counter for him, "These are so nice, than—"

"There's more," she bubbled, unable to contain herself this time, "At the bottom."

He raised a brow but dug inside like she suggested. At the bottom, his fingertips brushed something smooth and flat. Getting his fingers around it, Harry already had a good idea of what he was pulling out, a smile spreading over his features and denting his cheeks with dimples.

It was a book—one of his favorites from the library. One he had loved enough that he wished he had his own copy to keep him company—something he had told (Y/N). The cover was the black and white with splashes of red, the artwork glossier than what he had borrowed from the library. The spine was uncracked, kept in pristine condition—just the way he liked it.

"I know you've already read it, but I thought you might want to read a little again while you take your bath," (Y/N) mused at his side, her hands in a fumbling bundle before her.

"(Y/N)," Harry sighed, looking up from his new, personal edition, "This is all wonderful, really. Thank you, so much."

With his book still in hand, he collected her in his arms, tucking her against his chest. While he wasn't one hundred percent sure what all of the things he had received were, it was more than warming to think about her perusing a shop with him in mind, plucking things up with the intention of sharing them only with him.

"I know it's all kind of silly, but I'm happy you like it," she murmured into his shoulder, the curl of her smile felt against the cuff.

"'S not silly," he told her, drawing back just enough to get a look in her eyes, "I can't remember the last time anyone has done anything like this for me. I really like all of it, (Y/N). Thank you."

Tipping his chin, he pressed his lips to hers, hoping she felt his words as much as she heard them. He felt eased when her lips molded into a soft smile.

"I'm happy I could change that," she cemented, beginning to untangle himself from his hold, "I'll leave you to it, then. Take as long as you want, I'm just going to clean up and we'll go to bed—"

"You're not staying with me?"

How was he supposed to enjoy all of these trinkets and things without her there? What was the point of a sage candle and glittery bath bomb if she wasn't going to be indulging with him?

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, one foot out of the bathroom. "Oh—um, no? I was going to go clean the kitchen and things, remember?"

"Yeah, but," he started, watching to reach out and keep her on the tiled floor with him, "can y'do that later?"

"Do you want me to?" was her simple response.

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Her features were warm, taking a step back into the bathroom with him. "Then, I'll do it later."

It didn't take long for their clothing to be shed, lying in a lumpy file on the floor with the tub filled to the brim with steaming water. Harry had chosen the lavender bomb to be placed in the water, (Y/N) all too excited to show him the magic of the fizzy powder. She had urged him to sink in first, her gaze following the lines of his body before she had gone after him.

Harry wrapped his arms around her as she sunk into him, his chest to her back. The steaming water rippled around them, scenting the air with crisp lavender and warming sage. Every deep breath he took had the bunching in his muscles lessening and lessening until he was lax with (Y/N) in his hold. He could feel her every breath, the expanding of her chest that pressed back into him, the brush of her hair drifting through the surface of the water and tickling his skin, the careful way she had her hands laying atop his own where they were threaded over the soft of her stomach. It was easy for his eyes to shutter closed with his head tipping back against the rim of the tub.

It was almost enough to keep him from acknowledging the curve of her body pressed against his cock.

Now wasn't the time though, he starkly reminded himself, taking in a deep breath of the calming lavender. She had wanted to relax with him, not get felt up with a dick pressing against her ass.

"Do you like it?"

The sound of (Y/N)'s crooned words had him blinking his eyes open. He wasn't even hard yet, how could she know that he was already talking himself down?

"What?"

"The bath bomb," she laughed, oblivious, "You said you've never used one before, right?"

"Oh," he sounded, exhaling finally, "Yeah. 'S nice—it smells really nice. I could fall asleep in here.”

Twisting in his arms, (Y/N) shot him a beaming smile over her shoulder. "I have before—I don't recommend."

"Yeah?" he smiled, much more willing to focus on this anecdote than on the way the shifting of her body hit points on him he would have rather ignored for the time being.

"Oh yeah," she cemented, shaking her head, "I only woke up when I felt water going up my nose 'cause I started slipping."

Though she laughed off the remark, a frown settled on Harry's lips. "Y'almost drowned? (Y/N)..."

Her name came out as a scold, one that had her letting out another peal of laughter. "No, I didn't drown, H—"

"You almost did," he pointed out.

There were parts of him, traits that he gained during his years protecting his mother and sister, that were now woven into the fabric of his personality. Hearing (Y/N)'s story had that protective gene flaring up in him, urging him to hold her tighter, keep her at his side. He wouldn't let his mind wander to another version of events where she hadn't spasmed awake when the warm water touched her nose.

His limbs became a warming cradle around her form, caging her to him lest the bathtub somehow raise tsunami waves and try to pull them apart. He pressed his lips to the back of her shoulder, speaking against the skin, "I don't like that."

(Y/N) wiggled her hands underneath his, turning her palms up to match his own with her fingers threading between. "It's just a funny story, H. I'm fine—you know I don't take baths, like, ever, anyway."

His brows pinched into a furrow. Sure, maybe he did know that. "Still," he grumbled.

Harry's petulance only served to draw another breath of laughter from her chest.

She wriggled in his hold some, melting into him as she slid deeper into the water. The milky shaded water ripped around her, Harry keeping her close as she settled with her head resting against his shoulder.

"I'm fine, Harry," she cemented, peeking up at him with an adoring smile on her features, "But, you're cute for worrying."

Taking in a deep breath, he did nothing more than dropping another kiss to the cuff of her shoulder. He wasn't trying to be cute—he was protective. It was a part of his nature.

Shuttering his eyes, Harry indulged himself and allowed his kissing to continue down her shoulder, only stopping when the lapping line of the water halted him. With his fingers laced between hers, he pulled her arm out of the pastel bath. He dotted his lips down the line of her limb, nose skimming her skin in his wake and raising goosebumps. A plume of laughter left his peach, the sound enough to have his own smile taking place as he fought to smear his lips over her skin.

It wasn't until he was headed towards her wrist, landing on the soft underside of her arm that he slowed when he, through cracked eyes, spotted a slash that had made a home in her skin. It was small, though it looked only partially healed—still a warm red and slightly raised.

"What happened here?" he murmured, a pinch furrowing his brow.

"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed dazedly, shuffling in his hold before spotting what had made him stop in the first place, "Oh, Rosie scratched me by accident."

It was something so minor, completely mundane and curable. The scratch wouldn't even scar, and yet Harry still felt his shoulders deflate. He would have to remind Rosemary to be gentle with her mother—she was entirely too special, no need to have claws out when being held by her.

He apologized for his cat with a small press of his lips to the cut.

Under the cover of the pastel water, (Y/N) untangled her hand from his that was still laid against her stomach. He was left to feel the give of her plush skin under the pads of his fingertips while she carded her own through his hair. Though he attempted to continue the dotted affection of his kiss over her skin, he didn't stand much of a chance as he reveled under her touch.

Maybe it was the brush of her nails against his scalp, or the slight give of her body under his hand, or just the fact that he could feel every line of her body against his own, but Harry felt his stomach tense then. It was minute and fleeting, but something he felt under the blocking muscles of his abdomen.

He attempted to keep a lid on whatever that feeling could lead to by taking a deep breath, but that only reminded him of (Y/N)'s skin right under his nose and the fact that she had been the one to run him this bath and that was why she was naked, and warm, and wet, and pressed right against him, and that was why his hands were on her and—

"H?"

Blinking his eyes open and drawing away from her, Harry looked up to match her wide eyes. "Hm?"

There was something teasing on her expression, lighthearted in her eyes with a small tug edging on the corner of her mouth. "Are you okay? You weren't breathing for a second."

"Oh," he sounded, mouth dry, "Sorry."

She shook her head, murmuring something about him being funny or cute or something, but, admittedly, Harry didn't have an ear to lend at that moment as (Y/N) started moving around him. Wriggling out of his hold, Harry stayed still in the water as she maneuvered around until she deposited herself in his lap. Her thighs were spread to cushion his hips, her bottom settled on the thick of his thighs while her chest was flush against his. Only trickles of the lavender water were able to make their way between her breasts and the curves of her body, leaving her shimmering with the scented oil on her skin and suddenly warmer than the steaming water.

Looking up at her, Harry took his time tracing the lines of her piled hair with the wet ends sticking to her skin, warm cheeks glowy and dewy, the soft light reflecting in her eyes from the candle she had lit and stationed behind their cuddled bodies. He felt breathless—reverent.

It was never far from his mind just how deeply (Y/N) had impacted him. Without her, he never would have been knocked out of the daze that was his life—the cycle of never-ending loneliness and purposeless decisions. She had changed him in ways he was scared of, the ways that he had avoided for years because it was easier to stay the same. He didn't enjoy thinking of who he would be without her, where he would be.

It was with that knowledge and the sight before him, that Harry wanted nothing more than to worship her and show her the purple that he had been given now that she was in his life. Religion wasn't anything that ever consoled him during his years on the run, but if the temples and altars had looked like her, the gods held her kind eyes and warming touch, he may have reconsidered.

"You can touch me, you know."

Dropping back to earth with a flutter of his eyes, he realized his hands were lax at his sides, careful to keep a distance from her skin. She had been the one to tie her arms around his neck, to keep their bodies close, while he had basked in the sight of her alone.

"Sorry," he murmured, placing his palms on the full curve of her thighs.

He skated them over her form, taking in the rounded edges of her body and warm skin. He'd touched her before, enough times to have mapped out every crook and groove, and yet, it still felt like the first time when he allowed him to feel. It would never get old knowing that he had someone like her that loved him enough to allow his hands to land on her.

"Don't be sorry," she murmured, ducking her head until she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I just don't want you to feel like you can't touch me—I'm yours, H, remember?"

There was that stirring again in his stomach, that tensing in his muscles that felt much deeper and lower than he would have liked during a relaxing cuddle with his girlfriend. It was just the reminder, that declaration that got to him just like it always did.

(It was a bit embarrassing, in Harry's opinion. Would it always be this easy to work him up? Would (Y/N) always be able to say a handful of words, let his hands wander to her hips, and then he would be done for?)

"You're mine," he sighed, sinking deeper into the water.

It was (Y/N)'s turn then to trail her lips over his skin, the pillows of her lips never fully lifting from his skin before she was planting another kiss. She went on with the tip of her nose smushing against the line of his jaw as she worked down to the column of his throat. He could feel himself growing harder and harder with every kiss, every brush of his hands over her body, until he was sure (Y/N) was well aware as well. Though she made it abundantly clear she didn't mind when she rocked her hips against his, his cock pressed against his stomach and the soft core between her thighs.

A shuddering exhale caved his chest.

"I'm yours," she crooned, the heat of her words fanning over his heated skin.

Her own arms wrapped around his neck began to drift, leaving only one tangled in the waves of his hair with the blunt of her nails tracing his scalp. Her touch skated down the length of his chest, her eyes settling into a daze as they followed the journey of her hand until it disappeared under the water. His abdomen jumped under her hand the lower she went until the heel of her palm grazed the plumped head of his cock.

He couldn't help the way he tossed his head back, leaning into the palm of her hand. His voice came out in a breath, "I want you so bad, peach, I'm so sorry."

(Y/N) drew away just enough to match his eyes, her wandering hand settling against the middle of his chest. "Why are you sorry?" she asked with amusement in her eyes, a soft smile on her lips as she shook her head, "You don't have to be sorry."

"Jus'" he started, focusing on the sight of her as opposed to the weight of her form and warmth of her skin against him, "I don't... Don't want to ruin tonight since you're already doing so much, and you're only trying to relax and 'm reacting like this and—"

She cut him off with her lips pressing against his, the edges of her mouth unable to fall in line with her kiss as she fought back a smile. "Do you think I don't want you, too, right now? If I didn't, I wouldn't be climbing all over you, H—or trying to get you to take me back to my room."

Shifting on his lap once more, (Y/N) emphasized her point with a small roll of her hips against him, her warmth grazing over his length.

His hands on her waist tensed, denting into her flesh with stern fingertips. Was she asking for what he hoped—what he'd been wanting but was too fearful to ask for in worry of pushing her?

His mouth felt dry as he took in her features, watching as something heated lingered in her irises. "A-Are y'sure?" he mumbled, unwilling to misread the conversation. (Y/N) loved taking care of him, he never wanted her to think he was intending to take advantage of that.

Carding her fingers through his hair, the tip of her tongue peeked out from between her lips to run along the seam. "I've really missed you, H. It's not always enough just to call you before I fall asleep, you know. It's not the same as actually having you."

A spark pinged in his chest at her words, the memories they dredged up. A couple of times over the last week with his busy schedule, they'd spent some extra time on the phone before (Y/N) fell asleep for the night and Harry worked through an especially long shift. He knew exactly what she meant: now that he knew what it was like to be touched by her, his own hand, his own fantasies paled so starkly in comparison it was almost embarrassing.

"I can take care of you, peach. 'M sorry I haven't been doing m'job, but I'll make it up to you," he crooned, tipping his head in hopes of pulling her in for a kiss, "Y'want m'mouth or m'fingers, love?"

It was only when she shook her head that he paused. That hand trapped between their bodies made a deliberate graze down his body until she skated her fingertips over his length, the ruddy head twitching over her touch. "I want you," she corrected, "Don't you want to fuck me?"

Maybe it was the fact she rarely cursed, or just how intensely she was meeting his eyes, or the feel of her grabbing his cock, but Harry could have blown it all right then. His throat felt thick as he attempted to swallow down the moan building in his chest. His eyes were hooded, a vignette forming around his view of her.

It would be so easy to sink inside her, split open her walls and make a home between them. All he needed was to shift his hips just right, and then he would be taking advantage of her spread legs and the slick around them. But, his worry of disappointing her—leaving her unsatisfied—held him back.

His mouth felt dry by the time he found his voice. "I—um—(Y/N)," he started, unsure of how exactly to divulge the information in him, "'S been a while since I've—..."

He wasn't sure what he was expecting her reaction to be, but he gladly took the small kiss she offered him, sealing his lips to hers. "How long?"

"Since before everything," he sighed, allowing himself to sink into her kiss and the brush of her mouth against his, "I don't want to... leave y'unsatisfied if 'm not... good."

That had her lips curling against his, a cluster of small kisses being pressed to the full of his lips before she pulled away. "It's going to be good before it's you, H. I'm not worried—I love you, remember?"

Was it normal for him to feel his cock pulse at her declaration? Or was he really that easy?

"I love you, too," he slurred before taking her mouth against his once more. It was messy and heavy, clumsy and unsure, but he didn't care. "I want to fuck you so bad, peach. Can I?"

All it took was a soft nod of her head before he had his arms lacing underneath the thick of her thighs with the water splashing around the tub. He held her tight, grip stern as he stood tall in the pastel water. (Y/N) let out a bubbling laugh, clinging to him with a gasp as if he would ever drop her.

With her pressed tightly to his chest, his cock was now fit snugly between the planes of his abdomen and the soft folds between her legs. Water sluiced down his form, a chill befalling his skin now that they'd left the steaming pool behind, though that had no effect on just how hard he was for his peach.

"We didn't have to right away," (Y/N) laughed, fingers denting the broad of his shoulders, "If you weren't done—"

"'M done," he cemented, dropping her onto the bounce of her mattress with only a small amount of guilt at getting so much water on her sheets. He'd change them for her later. "You're m'favorite way to relax, peach—don't need all the rest."

Laid on the center of her bed with her skin gleaming and warm, scented so sweetly from their bath, Harry had a new level of respect for his self-control. But, that was in the past now, left in the bathroom along with the droplets of water on the floor and the candle he would have to remember to blow out before they fell asleep.

Crawling on the mattress with his cock heavy between his legs, he fit his body between her spread legs, reveling in the plush of her thighs on either side of his hips. (Y/N) reached for him on instinct, looping her arms around his neck with the curls on the back of his neck dampening against her skin.

"Hi, you," she murmured, a bubbly smile on her lips as if she hadn't just asked him to fuck her a moment ago.

He could only shake his head, dropping a kiss to the bridge of her nose as he situated himself above him with his forearms stationed on either side of her head. "Hi, peach. What are you up to, hm?"

"Nothing much," she laughed, hitching a thigh over his lip in a languid move to thrust him forwards. "You?"

Harry's voice was stilted in his throat, feeling her slick folds give around his cock when his length split through. He could feel the minute pulsing of her clit against his base. "Jus' worried 'm not gonna last very long at all, nothing important," he attempted to joke, if only to feel of plume of her laughter fill the air.

Instead, he garnered a smearing of (Y/N)'s lips against his own, her affection tender and lingering. "Don't worry about that," she urged him, "I don't care—I just want you to feel good."

A furrow pinched his brow, his heart rattling when she rocked her hips underneath him as if it wasn't already hard enough to concentrate. "But, I want y'to feel good too, and—"

"I will as long as you do," she reiterated, amusement sparking in her blown pupils, "I don't care if you finish early, just finish in me, that's all I ask."

Harry couldn't contain the moan in his throat, the rumbling falling from his throat as he rested his forehead against hers with shuttered eyes. He could feel a bead of warm precum blurting from his tip, dripping to land on the soft of (Y/N)'s stomach with a pulse.

"You're going to kill me," he murmured, not sure if he was speaking for her to hear, "D-Do y'need me to do anything f—"

Cutting him off with a kiss, (Y/N) slipped her tongue between his lips only to offer a quick taste before she was pulling away once more. "You can feel how wet I am, right?"

As if he could forget with the way she was pressed against the underside of his cock, the ridge of his head tight between their stomachs. He answered with a small nod.

"Y-You're sure, then?" he murmured, attempting to tap into that self control he had back in the tub.

"I want you, H," she assured, nothing teasing or urgent in her voice, only sincerity, "As long as you're ready, I am, too. It's just me—you don't have to worry."

His only response came in the form of a small kiss and a declaration: "I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too," she smiled into his kiss, a small roll of her hips turning his brain to mush.

His breathing was strained as he reached between their bodies, his fist wrapping around his shaft. Looking down, he watched as she spread her thighs that much wider as he swiped his cock between her folds. She was sticky and wet, clinging to the width of him as he split her open enough for his head to kiss her clit. He could see the jump of her muscles, the small whine that chirped from her lips, but he couldn't seem to stop himself—especially when a thread of her slick stuck to him, only bowing and breaking when he reached his cock towards his stomach, too far for the string to extend.

"Harry, please," she quietly pleaded with him.

The sound of her voice was just enough to knock him back into the universe. It was enough to remind him that this wasn't the main event, there was even more warmth and wetness to be explored.

Pressing the tip of his cock to her opening, he held himself steady as he pressed his hips forward. It was a tight squeeze, a feeling that took his breath away. As much as he wanted to catch (Y/N)'s expressions, see exactly what she looked like as he sunk inside her for the first time, he couldn't seem to peel his eyes away from the sight of his cock fitting inside her core. With every stretch of his length pushing through, less and less coherent thought filtered through his head.

Instead, all he could think about was the snug fit of her walls around him, the pulsing with every heartbeat, just how wet she was, the warmth that enveloped him and welcomed him deeper and deeper. By the time he bottomed out, his mouth had fallen into a gape and his arm propping him up was now shaky. His only anchor was the grip he moved to have on her hip, his palm slick and sticky from fisting his cock though he didn't have it in him to care.

He really, really hoped (Y/N) meant it when she said she wouldn't mind if he blew it fast; he doubted he had much longer left, and he'd only just sunk inside.

"Y'alright, peach?" he breathed, his words fanning across her skin when he finally looked up to reach her eyes.

Looking at him with hooded eyes, the pupils wide, (Y/N) gave him her confirmation in the form of a jerky nod. "I'm okay," she mumbled, "Are you?"

"'M good," he said, feeling drunk despite not a single drop of alcohol even being present in (Y/N)'s home, "'M so good, peach. 'M scared 'm too good."

"It's okay," she smiled at him, if only a bit dazed when she threaded her fingers through his damp curls, "Just do whatever makes you feel good—that's enough for me."

He wished he could have told her how much her affection meant to him, how he couldn't believe she loved him the way she did, how there was no one who had such an effect on him, but there was no way his tongue was going to follow any kind of command let alone any train of thought to actually form. Instead, he settled for a searing kiss against her already swollen lips.

Though he doubted he would have any chance at composure, he still attempted to catch his breath and his brain before he reared his hips back for the first time. Pulling out of her warm channel was enough to add some form of clarity to his mind, though it didn't last long before he pushed forward in a shallow thrust. Her walls welcomed him in once more, warm and snug with every ridge forming around him in a pulse. (Y/N)'s thighs tensed around his hips, a slight tremor to her muscles though she managed to let out a sigh of pleasure against his kiss.

"Fuck, peach," he murmured when he bottomed out once more, the crown of his length tapping her furthest walls.

A furrow had his brows pinched though his eyes remained closed, even when he couldn't manage to kiss her anymore, his lips simply resting against her own parted ones. He shared panted breaths with her, his forehead resting on her own with (Y/N)'s fingers curling in his hair.

Though the pace was slow, he was able to curate a rhythm that kept him from finishing right away. He didn't feel too far from the edge, but this was as good of a chance as he was going to get when she felt as good as she did.

"H-Harry," she whined, her voice breathy and airy, "You're so big."

His hips stuttered at her words, the previously shallow thrust he was working on turning into a harsh grind against her core. The jolt had another moan rumbling her chest with a curse falling from Harry's lips.

"Y'can't say that, peach," he murmured, unable to keep his pacing, "You're gonna make me cum and we've barely started."

Every stroke was indulgent, lingering when he wanted, harsh and deep when he changed his mind, anything and everything to his taste. His only chance was in moving his hand from her hip and shaky positioning it between his punishing hips and her forgiving core. At the apex of her folds, her clit pearled. Though his hand was shaky, he still managed to smear the pad of his thumb against the bud, feeling the budding pulse that matched the hammering of her heart.

Suddenly coming to light, (Y/N) managed to bring him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and clumsy, leaving their lips swollen and teeth glancing off one another, but there wasn't any room for perfection.

Harry needed her, that was all he knew. His stomach tightened with every thrust, his balls shining with her slick with every slap against her ass. (Y/N)'s thighs were warm and tight on either side of his pelvis, unwilling to let him venture too far before accepting him back inside.

"(Y/N)," he panted, shaking his head, "P-Peach, 'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, do—shit—don't be sorry, H. I want you to cum, okay? Cum in me, please."

How was he supposed to deny her? What kind of boyfriend would he be if he said no to such pretty words?

Keeping his thumb running circles around her swollen clit, Harry couldn't stop himself before harshly thrusting inside her and pausing when he felt the first spasm wrack through his abdomen. There was a bunch to his muscles he hadn't even realized until the thread keeping them together snapped.

Ropes of his cum spurted out, decorating and flooding her walls with every pulse. She grew impossibly wet around him, his thumb barely keeping track as he tried to tend to her clit even through the tremors. He ground his hips against hers, unwilling to draw away even an inch out of her warmth as he came.

The world slowly came back into focus as he pulled in puffs of air, (Y/N) delicately kissing his bottom lip. He felt so hot, sticky despite the bath he'd just soaked in.

Was sex always like this? He couldn't recall ever coming this hard, but had it been too long for him to remember? Or was this another (Y/N)-only thing? He could readily believe that highs like this only came from being in her arms.

"Still with me?" his peach murmured, a wanton edge to her voice that reminded him that there were much more important things than his own pleasure.

He nodded, finally reciprocating her kiss. "'M here, peach. I've got you."

Despite the oversensitivity beginning to leak into his system, he managed to grind into her just enough to match the swirling of his thumb against her clit. She gasped into his mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue past her lips and sweep over her own. He got a taste of her pleasured moans, reveling in the feel until it seemingly became too much for her.

In a way he was now familiar with, (Y/N) let out a chirping moan, delicate and shaky into his mouth. That was the first sign before her fingers in his hair began to tug at the roots in a stinging pull, and toes curled. Her pussy clung to the shape of his cock, his cum overflowing around himself and dripping down to the bed under her ass as she gushed around him. His oversensitivity had him crying out a call of her name, her pulsing walls almost too hot to handle as she came around him.

He could have done this all night, Harry decided. He could have pet his fingers over her clit and pressed into her walls for hours if not for the fact that they were both beginning to see the less than favorable side of sensitivity.

"'M gonna pull out, okay?" he panted, blinking his eyes open to find his (Y/N)'s still shuttered. She answered in a quiet nod, her lips parted as she breathed.

Though it was a bit reluctant, he drew his hips back in a slow glide. His softening cock slipped out with a wet sound as (Y/N) unfurled her legs from around him. A small whine left her lips, but she didn't stop him, only clinging to him.

Settling in bed beside her, reaching for one of the pillows stationed at the head of the bed, Harry fixed it under their heads. (Y/N) instinctively rolled to face him, sharing the cushion with him. He gave her time as she came down, brushing his fingers through her hair and over the planes of her features until she managed to crack her eyes open.

"Hi, you," he smiled, repeating her small tease from earlier.

A plume of laughter fell from her lips, a slight smile forming on her kiss-swollen lips. "Hi. What are you up to?"

"Nothing. Jus' looking at you."

"Nothing important then, I see," she laughed, snuggling closer to him until Harry was collecting her into his arms with her head tucked into his neck.

"Very important, actually," he corrected, amusement draining from his tone, "Thank you, peach. Really."

"You don't have to thank me, H," she countered, "I obviously got my own benefits out of this, so don't think I just did this for you."

He knew she was trying to play with him, get him to loosen up, but he wasn't in the mood for that just yet. He was a touch too sentimental at the moment.

"You know what I mean," he murmured, planting a kiss to the top of her head, "I jus' love you, and... always means a lot when y'trust me, and let me be with you. Thank you."

"I love you, too, Harry," she reciprocated, her own arms giving him a pulsing hug, "It's easy to trust you, really. I wouldn't want to have these kinds of moments with anyone else—you're the best thing that ever happened to me, honey."

Though he knew they needed to change her bedding, and blow out the candle in the bathroom, get (Y/N) cleaned up, and mop up the bathroom, Harry couldn't find any good reason to extract himself from her arms.

There would never be a good enough reason that came above being with her like this.

—————

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