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bloatedandalone04 · 29 days ago

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Tell Me What’s My Flavor

➪the one where jake is a college professor and also your boyfriend.

Warnings: smut, fluff, age gap (12 years), past student/teacher relationship, oral (f receiving), swearing, unprotected sex, crying during sex bc it’s that good

Word Count: 4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 5.4K FOLLOWERS

Jake’s fingers were dusted with white chalk, his old-fashioned ways refusing to let him use the laptop and projector to teach his lessons. Maybe he’d upgrade to a white board and marker one day, but that’s as far as he was going.

His back was turned to his students as he wrote out the lesson plan for the last half of the class, which was pretty much textbook questions since he actually wanted people to use the things they paid for, and he knew for a fact that his colleagues didn’t use the textbooks much in their classes.

He knew he liked his job a bit too much and/or was getting a bit too old since the soft scratching of the chalk on the black board was soothing to him, while he was sure the seventeen twenty year olds behind him were getting a tad irritated at the sound.

Jake’s button up was slightly wrinkled from this morning, when you bunched it up in your hands as you made out in his car outside of campus for a good twenty minutes before class, and he hoped it wasn’t extremely obvious as to why the fabric was so scrunched up. The last thing he needed was for there to be gossip about what he got up to in his free time, and who he got up to with.

God, you were so sexy and so beautiful, Jake still couldn’t believe you had chosen him to be your boyfriend when there were hundreds of younger guys on campus. But you told him you had a thing for older guys, and he had a thing for you.

He’d been teaching at this school for about five years now, and he met you in his fourth year here. A year and a half ago, you were actually one of his students, and you were so confident and so stunning, he didn’t stand a chance. Though he tried not to, he fell for you hard, and thankfully you fell for him back, despite the twelve year age gap, with you being twenty three now and him being thirty five.

It was hard to be both your boyfriend and your teacher, and fuck if it didn’t make him feel fucking guilty at times, but the two of you manged to keep it a secret so you didn’t get expelled, and he didn’t get fired. Secret kisses here and there, sleepovers at his apartment and quick hookups in his car were what you did for a good year, but that semester was over, and it was a bit easier now that he didn’t have to worry about his girlfriend getting offended if he gave her a justifiably bad grade since you weren’t his student anymore.

That was one thing he made sure to do; treat you as equal in class so, one, no one questioned why he had a soft spot for you, and two, because you were there to learn and be graded fairly, and that was the least he could do, really.

With that being said, because of the twelve year age gap, it sometimes felt a lot bigger when Jake realized that you were in pretty different places in your lives, with him well into his career and you trying to get started in one. Still, he wouldn’t change a thing (except for maybe falling for you while you were his student, because he still didn’t know how to explain that one to his friends), because he was in love with you, and you loved him right back.

You also made sure to remind him that you were so happy that he was so much more mature compared to all the losers on campus, and that shouldn’t make him feel so full of pride, but here he is.

You still had to keep your relationship private for now, since you were still a student, just not his anymore.

By day, Jake was a somewhat strict but also very easygoing college professor, and by night, he was your older boyfriend who would gladly spend hours on end fucking you into his mattress before falling asleep with you in his arms.

He had just finished writing the instructions on the board when he glanced over at the door to the classroom, the small window revealing his favorite person standing in the hall. You gave him a flirty smile, tilting your head as you brought your hand up and waved your fingers at him, making his grip loosen on the piece of chalk.

Even though he had just seen you this morning, your short skirt and cropped top still made him bite down on his lip as he tried to keep his cool. You curled your index finger, beckoning him into the hallway with you, then you brought that same finger up to your lips in a gesture for him to be quiet about it.

He raised a brow, smirking over at you as he dropped his arm down to his side. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he knew he wanted it too. Badly.

The rational part of his brain screamed at him to turn away and apologize to you for it later, and reminded him how you and he needed to be careful, but the rest of him didn’t give a fuck.

Jake turned to the class with a tight smile, tossing the piece of chalk onto his desk. “Sorry, everyone,” he said, giving his best natural smile. “I need to step out for a few minutes. Get started on these and we’ll pick up where we left off when I get back.”

That was a good cover, right?

After he got a bunch of mumbled responses and heard the sound of multiple pages being turned, he quickly walked over to the door and stepped out into the empty hall with you. Almost instantly, your hands were on his shoulders and your mouth was against his as he pulled you into his arms.

“I missed you,” you mumbled in between kisses, your hands bunching up his shirt again, similar to how you did it in the car earlier. “I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to interrupt your classes like this, but mine ended early, and I missed you.”

Jake groaned, his hands sliding down to squeeze your hips. “Don’t apologize, you can interrupt me anytime,” he murmured against your lips. “And fuck, I missed you too, baby.”

He nipped at your bottom lip before pulling away and looking down at your outfit that was driving him as wild as it did two hours ago. Fuck, it had only been two hours and he missed you like crazy. What was wrong with him?

“God, you look so fucking pretty. So fucking sexy,” he huffed out, turning his head to make sure that the hallway was still empty as his hands slid up to brush against the gap of skin between the hem of your top and your skirt. “How am I supposed to focus when all I can think about is bending you over my desk and fucking you senesless?”

You grinned, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as you hummed. “Well, we have fucked on your desk more times than I can count on both hands,” you mumbled, your fingers coming up to smooth out the collar of his wrinkled shirt. “I’m surprised you can even focus in there at all when you know that you’ve made me cum so many times on that very desk.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned quietly, placing a soft kiss to your jaw, “Every time I sit at that desk, all I can picture is you bent over over it while I rail you from behind.”

You laughed quietly, covering your mouth as you also looked around the hall again. “That’s a really pretty picture,”

Jake nodded in agreement before lifting his hand to caress your face. “Dinner at my place tonight? I’ll cook and clean up, and then we can pick up right where we left off here,” he offered, eyes darkening a bit at the thought of getting you all to himself later.

“You know I’d never pass that up,” you reply, leaning up to steal one last kiss. “Am I sleeping over again tonight?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, “I plan on keeping you in my bed all weekend long, baby.”

You grinned in excitement, “Sounds fun. I love you. Think of me during the rest of your class,”

“I will,” he laughed, stealing one last kiss of his own before stepping away from you. “I love you too. Now get out of here before you get us both in trouble.”

You gave him a firm nod, a poorly hidden smile on your lips as you turned around and quickly made your way towards the exit doors at the end of the hallway, and Jake was already counting down the minutes left until class was over and he could have you back in his arms.

After Jake finished with his classes for the day, he returned home and spent the rest of the afternoon tidying up his apartment before getting started on dinner. In the year and a half he’s been with you, he learned that you have a rather plain palate since you usually just skipped meals or ate out (he remembered he was a similar way when he was in college and barely had time to actually make himself a proper dinner), but you liked pasta quite a lot. Which, to be fair, is a pretty simple dish, but he’d make it for you as often as you wanted it, and you wanted it tonight.

Just after six, he heard the door open and close quietly, before your voice called out to him. Then you were peeking your head into the dining room, a pretty smile on your lips as you met his eyes from across the room. “Hi,” you murmured just as he set the plates down.

“There’s my girl,” he grinned, reaching for you once you entered the dining room and pulling you into his arms. He peppered your face with kisses as you set your bag down by the chair, your quiet laugh making his grin widen. “I missed you. Dinner’s ready when you are.”

You gave him a grateful smile as you pulled away. “Now? I didn’t get to have breakfast and I skipped lunch, so I’m kinda starving,”

Jake hummed, raising a brow at your lack of care for yourself, and he was actually very happy that you had him to look after you since he was sure you’d forget to eat a lot if you hadn’t started dating him. “Of course, but first,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist before you could turn away. He pulled you back to him and pressed a deep kiss to your lips, his fingers cradling your jaw. “There. Now we can go eat.”

Your face was red as you sat down at the table, your eyes raking over the simple yet tasty looking pasta. “God, you’re so romantic,” you sighed dramatically before smiling up at him as he pushed your chair in for you. “Your exes are so fucking stupid for letting you go. But now I got you.”

You leaned up towards him and he moved down to meet you halfway for a chaste kiss.

“Thank you, Jake, this is perfect,” you whispered against his mouth before pulling away. “Just like you.”

“Oh, I don’t know about perfect,” he laughed as he sat down next to you at the table. “Perfection is overrated, flaws are interesting. Luckily for me, I have a lot of those.”

Jake was aware of just how fucking stupid that sounded, but he’s spent the last seven years of his life as a teacher. It was kind of impossible for him to not over-analyze and over-explain things at times.

He was also very aware of just how domestic this whole thing felt, and he would be lying if he were to say that he hadn’t been craving this feeling for quite some time now.

“Besides,” he added, not wanting to sound like a total fucking geek in front of you, even though he kind of is one. “If I was perfect, I probably wouldn’t have ended up with you in the end because I wouldn’t have gotten broken up with.”

You laughed and shook your head as you picked up your fork and took a bite. “Speaking of…” you trailed off once you finished chewing, and your leg brushed against his under the table. “We haven’t really talked about that much. How many girlfriends did you have before me?” Your voice held no hints of jealousy, just curiosity, so Jake knew this wasn’t a test and he didn’t have to be careful with this topic.

He reached for his beer he opened before you got here. “Um…there was Jenna for about two years, then there was Hannah for just under one. I had a few short flings here and there, but nothing all that serious. Not until I met you,” he answered, “You’re different, someone I actually connect with in more ways than one, even if you are a brat sometimes and pull me out of my classes.”

You hummed and smiled over at him, leaning your chin on your hand as you purse your lips. “Am I…you know, the youngest girlfriend you’ve had?” You asked, and this time you sounded a bit hesitant.

Jake set his beer down and reached for your hand instead. “Well, yeah,” he replied, “But don’t sell yourself short, baby. Yeah, we have a bit of an age gap, but that doesn’t really mean anything. I may be a bit older, but you bring out a side of me I didn’t even know I had, and I reel you back in when you need me to. We balance each other out damn near perfectly, I’d say.”

You nodded and squeezed his hand. “Yeah, we do…and you…see us lasting?” You murmur, looking down at your half eaten plate with a faint blush on your face. Now you sounded vulnerable, and Jake hated it, but you didn’t let him answer before you continued, “I know we’re at different places in our lives, but I know that I want you, Jake. You’re the first boyfriend I’ve had who’s made me feel like this; so good and seen and, well, you don’t treat me like a child. You treat me like I’m your world, and I just…I love you, more than I thought possible, and I want to know if you see a future with me. Could you see yourself, you know, marrying me?”

Jake’s eyes flickered between yours, and he knew that you were putting your heart on your sleeve right now, and he wasn’t about to say the wrong thing. He set his fork down and got up from his chair, only to kneel next to yours. “Baby, I see a lifetime with you. You’re not just my girlfriend, you’re my partner. Yeah, my life has been pretty fucking great, but then I met you and I don’t see a future without you in it,” he took your hands in his, stroking your knuckles with his thumbs. “Yes, I do see myself marrying you. That would make me so fucking happy, but further down the road, when we’re both ready for it.”

The uncertainty in your eyes faded, and you smiled down at him as you turned to face him properly. “So this is a real thing?” You asked, leaning down to press your forehead to his. “We’re good?”

Jake laughed under his breath before nodding. “We’re more than good. We’re solid, baby. You and me, and I’m not going anywhere,” he nuzzles his nose against yours, murmuring the words he’s known since he met you. “You’re my forever girl, now and always.”

A soft whine left your lips, and you seemed to have forgotten all about the rest of your dinner as you pushed him back onto his heels before you got up and moved to straddle his lap. “I love you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders as you kissed him deeply. “It’s so stupid how much I love you. You’re all I think about. When I’m in class, all I can think about is when you were my teacher and we’d have to pretend we weren’t fucking in your bed the night before.”

Jake groaned, kissing you again as his hands settled on your waist. Your words had him also thinking back to when he’d have to make sure he didn’t spend his entire lesson looking at just you and thinking about how you’d be at his apartment with him once the class was over. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he grunted, his hands sliding down to grasp your ass. “The things I wanted to do to you. Fuck, I need you. Right now. Fuck dinner.”

You squealed as he easily stood up with you clinging to his front, his lips pressing to your neck as he made a beeline for the hallway. “Are you going to make love to me, Jake?” You whimpered as you pulled at his hair, trying to rub yourself against his abs as he carried you into his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby. I’m going to kiss every inch of you and make you feel so good,” he promised, laying you down gently on his bed. He unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor before he crawled on top of you, one of his knees sliding between your thighs as he connected your lips again. His hands pulled up your sinful little crop top and tossed it aside before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Once your top half was bare, Jake pulled away from your lips and began placing open mouthed kisses to your skin, whispering anything that came to mind. “You’re so beautiful, my gorgeous girl. My forever love.”

“Jake,” you gasped, leaning back on his pillow as his hand slid up your skirt and brushed along your clothed core at the same time his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples. “Please…please.”

Your hands pulled at his hair in a way that had him groaning against your soft skin. “Patience, baby,” he murmured, pulling away from your chest as his hands tugged down both your skirt and panties and let them join the rest of your clothes on the floor. Then he was burying his face between your thighs, parting your folds with long, slow strokes of his tongue and moaning at the sweet taste of you.

His nose bumped against your puffy clit as his tongue slid inside your warmth, his hands wrapping around your thighs to spread them even wider as he ravished you. “Fuck,” you cried out, tangling your fingers in his hair. “Oh, God…just like that.”

Your sounds were music to Jake’s ears, and they only spurred him on. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked on it, coaxing more and more of those sweet sounds from your mouth until your back was arching and your hand was pulling harder on his hair. “Come on, baby,” he murmured, flicking your bundle of nerves with his tongue. “Cum for me. Let me taste you.”

Not long after he said those words, you were writhing against his bed and coming on his tongue. Your sweet taste coated his mouth and chin, and he licked up every drop until you were shaking and softly crying his name.

He pulled away from your sensitive core and crawled back up your body, his lips finding yours in a deep kiss as he muttered, “So fucking beautiful,” and ground his erection against your hip.

You moaned against his mouth, kissing him back messily as you pulled him impossibly closer to you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your shaky fingers unzipping and pushing down his jeans as you bucked your hips against his. “Please,” you whimpered, still shaking in his arms.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Jake hushed you softly, cradling your face with one hand while his other reached down to grip the base of his cock, and he slowly entered you with one smooth thrust. “Fuck…you’re so tight.”

He held still for a few seconds before beginning to move, finding a steady rhythm as he rocked into you with deep, slow thrusts. His hand slid beneath your knee, hiking your leg up higher on his hip as he found an even deeper angle, and the soft whine you let out went straight to his head.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he rasped, keeping your leg wrapped firmly around his waist as he sped up just a bit, his eyes fixed on the gentle sway of your breasts.

“Oh, God,” you cried out, squeezing your eyes shut as your head tipped back on the pillow again. Your moans were loud as you turned your head and buried your nose into the fabric that smelled like his shampoo and body wash. “Jake.” you whimpered, and he could see the tears gather along your waterline as he fucked you slowly into his mattress, letting you feel every single inch of his cock.

He leaned down, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth as he cradled your head. “I’m right here, baby,” he whispered, “I got you. You’re so perfect.” He knew that made him a hypocrite since he said that perfection was overrated, but here you were; stunning in every way possible and so damn right for him. That was the only way he could describe it. You. Perfect.

Jake’s hands were all over your body, caressing every curve he knew so well as your moans got louder and more frequent. “Fuck…I’m not perfect, Jake. You are,” you mumbled, pressing your forehead against his.

“Shh, yes you are. You’re so fucking perfect, flaws and all, and everything that makes you the woman I fell in love with,” he grunted, peppering kisses along your face as he thrust a bit faster into you. “You make me happier than I ever thought I could be. You’re everything, baby. And I promise, no matter what, you’ll always have me.”

Jake was sweating a bit, his release creeping up on him from how good your body felt, and he wanted this to last forever.

“Jake, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you warned quietly, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as you tugged on his hair. The slick sound of your bodies meeting over and over again grew louder as you let out a soft cry of his name, then you were shaking in arms once again.

His heart had never felt this full, his whole body thrumming as he rocked into you until he came deep inside of you, his vision blurring a bit at the intensity of it all. “Fuck,” he groaned, burying his face against the side of your neck as he shuddered through the aftershocks. “I love you.”

Jake wrapped you up in his arms, cuddling your body against his chest as you both tried to catch your breath. “I love you too,” you mumbled, tangling your legs with his. “Thank you for dinner…even though we didn’t actually get through all of it.”

His lips turned upwards as he laughed, brushing his nose against yours. “Our priorities shifted,” he muttered, running his hand up the back of your thigh as he nuzzled his face against your shoulder and closed his eyes. “Need to rest my eyes for a sec, baby. Wake me up when you’re ready for round two.”

Your soft laugh had his smile growing, and that’s how he fell asleep, wrapped up in the arms of the person who had quickly stolen his heart, and he hoped like hell that you never gave it back to him.

Because as long as you had it, he knew he’d spend the rest of his being so fucking happy with you by his side.

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solar-wing · 1 year ago

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⚣ Domestic Living With Jason 🩳

⚣🩳 A/N → I'm physically incapable of writing anything under 500 words. But, this was inspired by my love of compression shirts (especially the Under Armor ones and how I would do exactly this if my boyfriend tried to walk out wearing one). May start a series off this, we'll see. Warnings: Domestic Vibes. Married Energy. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing. Petty Jason.

⚣🩳 Summary → Domestic life is something. Domestic life with Jason Todd is another thing. One moment, you're ready to fight this man. Next moment, you're ready to fight this man. *wink wink* Wait, hold up. Jason, what the hell are you wearing?!

⚣🩳 Words → 1.5K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🩳

“Jason, hurry up! I need to get back so I can finish this essay.” Y/N yelled from the living room of his and his boyfriend’s shared apartment.

If you asked him a year ago what he figured living with his boyfriend would be like, he’d more than likely answer with a lot of freaking sex. Of course, other things came with it, but that was the first thing that always came to mind.

It also came with a lot of stay-at-home dates. Jason was unsurprisingly a natural homebody and loved to spend his evenings when he could with his lovely boyfriend cuddled against his body while watching a movie or playing a game and munching down on some takeout.

Truthfully, it was nice seeing how Jason was in a domestic situation. It served as a reminder to Y/N that under all those scars, grumpiness, and tough exterior was just a boy who wanted to be loved.

On the other end, living with Jason made Y/N take a long, hard look in the mirror and reflect on all the bad habits he had when living at home with his parents and starting college. For example, time management…

Before he started dating Jason, Y/N was the kind of person who waited till twenty minutes before he had to leave to start getting dressed. Whenever someone would text him and ask for his location, he’d respond telling them he was leaving the house now.

Then, when he was actually leaving the house and they’d text him again, he’d respond saying he was on the freeway. Truly, the best example of what not to do when he wanted to be on time somewhere.

After he started dating Jason though, and especially when they moved in together, Y/N sent a long apology to his parents who had tried for years to teach him better time management. The crazy thing about that was when they asked him why he was apologizing and he explained that Jason’s time management made him look like an angel, they didn’t believe him!

In their eyes, Jason was a saint who could do no wrong. Which was ironic considering Y/N’s dad promised to castrate any man who dared even look his son’s way. And his mom, well, not sure that’s really appropriate to mention.

Yet, when it came to Mr. Jason Peter Todd, he might as well have been hand-delivered from God himself. Maybe it was because his boyfriend could and would be late to anything else in the world (Lord knows Bruce went through hell and back just to get him to be on time for family dinner), but if it was anything involving Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, he was twenty minutes early with a gift he picked up from the local Target.

It also could be that Jason was the world’s biggest kiss-ass (when he needed to be) and used that to wrap Y/N’s parents around his finger. Either or…

But now, since they were only going to the gym, Jason was of course taking his sweet time to get ready, which, every passing second was another snap of one of Y/N’s nerves. Truthfully, he would’ve just grabbed his keys and left without him, but the last time he did that, Jason went and bought a steering-wheel clutch to put on his car and hid the keys from him for two weeks.

Another thing Y/N’s parents would never believe about their son’s beloved boyfriend; the fucker was petty as hell.

“I’m coming, babe! Be out in a sec,” Jason yelled from behind their bedroom door.

“You said that five minutes ago!”

“Sorry, I don’t recall. Maybe you imagined it.”

This gaslighting motherfu–

Y/N had to take a deep breath to calm his growing impulsive need to bust down that door and slap the fuck out of his boyfriend’s neck. It didn’t help…

“You can’t hit your boyfriend. You can’t hit your boyfriend. You can’t hit your boyfriend,” Y/N mumbled to himself while tapping his foot against the floor repeatedly to distract himself from the ticking seconds passing by in his mind.

Two minutes later, the door opened and revealed his tall and bulky man looking ever so fresh and handsome. Though Y/N was still irritated beyond belief, the sight of his boyfriend’s handsome face who grew a smile and twinkle in his eyes when he looked at him always managed to dissipate his temper.

Not by much though. Jason’s neck still looked like a very bright and large target just waiting for a good sting from the palm of his hands.

Maybe Tim was right, they were a match made in heaven just off violent tendencies alone.

“That was not a sec,” Y/N reprimanded in a grumble.

Jason’s smile turned into a self-satisfied grin while he walked past his boyfriend to their coat closet, grabbing his abnormally large gym shoes. Seriously, what size is this man’s foot?

“Hey, it’s not my fault you waited till the last day to finish your homework.” He replied while tying his shoe.

“Um, actually it is. Every time I tried to sit down and work on it, you’d either start complaining about how I wasn’t paying any attention to you or you’d get randomly horny and start touching me in ways that shall not be named and I’d end up with your dick inside me.”

Y/N immediately regretted his words when he saw how Jason looked up from finishing his last shoe, a lustful blown look on his face as he eyed his body up and down. Thankfully, he didn’t seem like he was about to act on his impulses as he kept tying his shoe without looking before standing back up.

Why was that hot?

“Sounds like you need to practice self-control, sir.”

Oh, no he didn’t.

“Sir, I was already tempted to smack the back of your neck before. I beg you to not increase that urge.”

“Do it. I dare you,” Jason challenged, standing right in front of him with his towering frame. The tone in his voice and the look on his face were signaling something that Y/N was very tempted to answer, but he had to keep rationality in the forefront of his mind.

“You not worth it,” He responded, side-stepping him while going to grab his jacket.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Sir, don’t get fu–”

It was at that moment Y/N took a full look at his boyfriend, specifically what he was wearing. And while the sight was something he wouldn’t mind staring at, he definitely didn’t want other people staring at him.

“Excuse me, but what in the hell are you wearing?” Y/N asked, still looking him up and down.

Jason looked confused for a moment, also looking at his outfit, not seeing what the problem was.

“Um, a shirt and sweats? Is this a trick question or,”

“Why is it so tight? Who are you trying to show off for?”

This man was wearing a black compression shirt and gray joggers like it was just a regular Sunday. The Lord is watching, how dare he?!

Jason’s smirk immediately came back when he realized what he was really about, “Oh, what? I can’t wear tight clothes now to the gym?”

“Not unless you want me to fight bitches. Because, just in case you forgot, I do fight bitches.”

“Language, or I’m telling mom. And I like it when you fight over me,” He said while grabbing at Y/N’s waist.

He immediately popped the vigilante’s hands off him, “Don’t involve my mother in and hands off mister.”

“Our mother, thank you,” Jason corrected.

“It’s giving incestuous, and last time I checked, there is no ring on this finger and my last name is not Todd.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Y/N was sat.

“I-, that was really hot and we’re gonna move on from that,” Y/N responded, and Jason once again had a cocky smirk on his face. Lord knows this man was more than likely dead serious. He’d drop everything and drive to a ring shop right now.

“Anyway, you need to go change sir. I don’t need them dirty, mud-bathing rats staring at what is for my eyes only.” Y/N responded, pointing back to their bedroom waiting for Jason to move.

“Oh, so I need to go change, but when you were wearing those tiny shorts, showing off what’s supposed to be for my eyes only, I got told to mind the business that pays me,” Jason asked with a laugh.

“Are you on my payroll?” Y/N questioned.

“No.”

“My point still stands.”

“You think you’re funny,”

“I think I’m hilarious, actually. In fact, I’m so funny, I’m going to get the extra small shorts I just got in the mail since you want to play with me.” Y/N turned around and sprinted for their bedroom.

“Oh, I’ll play all day,” Jason mumbled under his breath before throwing their gym bags down to the ground and kicking off his shoes before following his boyfriend into the room.

They did not make it to the gym, but they definitely got their workout in.

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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show-your-fangs · 1 year ago

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Swimming Pool ✿ Aaron Hotchner

We Shouldn't (And Yet We Do) - Part One

Pairing: DBF!Hotch x f!Reader

Words: 12.6k

CW: 18+, NSFW, mdni, smut, a little angst and so much fluff.

Summary: You return home for the summer because of your parents’ drama but luckily for you, your father’s friend, Mr. Hotchner, is there to bring you some much needed comfort.

Tags/warnings: shitty family life, age gap relationship (reader is 20, Hotch is 40), teasing, groping, perv!hotch, inappropriate thoughts and behavior, grinding, daddy kink bc fuck you, fingering (f receiving), protected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it or at least make sure you talk it over with your partner and get tested!).

a/n: Thank you so much to @canuck-eh for writing Loose Morals and reigniting my passion to write this series, and to @xladyxdreamer for putting up with my Moments angst to the point where this series is now my penance for it. Finally, to whoever started the DBF!Hotch train, you are a god and I love you.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

Coming back home in the middle of summer was…a lot. You’d just finished your second year away at college and you weren’t supposed to come back home until Christmas six months later, a compromise you’d agreed to only for your mother. But then she’d called out of the blue, sobbing, hysterical, and you had booked a flight back home to Virginia before she’d even hung up.

When you did finally arrive the morning after, she was much calmer, but the edge in her voice remained and you knew something was wrong. The only problem was that she refused to tell you what it was. It wasn’t until your high school friend took you out to lunch later that she finally clued you in as to what was going on.

Your father had apparently been caught getting busy with another one of the professors at the college he taught at. Someone had taken a…suggestive picture and now everything was in shambles. Well, not everything, mostly just his own marriage. From the little bits of information you were able to string together from your mother, it was clear that he was gaslighting her into believing that the picture was taken out of context and he wasn’t actually having an affair.

It had all blown up in your face about twenty minutes ago. Your house was packed with people, mostly your father’s close friends, colleagues, and their wives. He had decided to host an end of term/start of summer cocktail party to quell whatever doubts lingered amongst his social circles that whatever had or had not been taken didn’t mean anything and his marriage was still going strong. What he hadn’t accounted for, however, was you coming back to make sure your mother was alright.

You’d been holding onto the anger all afternoon as you followed your mother around, yelling and complaining and just desperately trying to reason with her. You’d never been a huge fan of your father. Sure, he’d done the bare minimum to give you life and was now paying for the part of your tuition that wasn’t covered by all the scholarships you’d gotten so that you didn’t have to graduate with massive loans. But aside from the small kindnesses he awarded you every so often, your relationship was nonexistent.

It was almost as if he’d predicted your mood because he didn’t arrive at the house until the party was minutes from starting. You had thought about leaving, about going out and getting wasted with your high school friends, but before you could even tell your mother you were going out, you found her crying in the master bedroom. And just like that you were back to seeing red.

The door swung open and you practically stormed towards it like a woman possessed.

“We need to talk,” you started. “No, let me rephrase, I need to scream at you and you’re going to listen—”

“Honey,” your father said sternly, opening the door fully. “Do not be rude to Aaron, say hello.”

Shame hit you like a bus as Mr. Hotchner came into focus behind your father. Fuck, he was good. It was eerie how clever your father could be when he didn’t want to be told off, when he knew that he’d done something wrong and instead of owning up to it he’d do everything in his power to avoid talking about it.

“Hi, Mr. Hotchner,” you managed through gritted teeth as your father walked past you and into the kitchen.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he replied, an amused smile on his lips. “I didn’t know you were coming back for summer break.”

“I’m not,” you tried to keep your voice steady. He must’ve known why you were angry, why the sudden outburst, but he didn’t reply, he simply nodded, lips in a thin line, trying to look anywhere but you.

“Well,” he broke the short silence. “I better put this on ice.”

He held out a bottle of Scotch he’d presumably brought over from his own house next door and walked after your father. You stood alone at the open door, the freedom of the night away from the exhaustion of fighting against your parents alluring. And yet you couldn’t seem to walk out, couldn’t seem to will your legs to move you in the direction of the rational choice.

Your heart was beating unbearably fast, and it wasn’t because of whatever was happening between your parents. No, it had everything to do with the FBI agent that had just walked into your home and the way he had clearly glanced down at your exposed cleavage before he had to immediately shift his gaze to anything else.

Aaron didn’t want to leave you there but he truly didn’t have a choice. You were wearing a tight black dress, so tight in fact that he could’ve sworn he saw every curve of your body. What had made it even worse was the way your breasts were practically spilling out of the garment, the trim of your lacy bra peeking around the edges. He’d felt like a teenager all over again, his crotch tightening uncomfortably as he tried his hardest to listen to the words coming out of your mouth to make sure that he responded eloquently.

Your mother had already put out ice buckets and he practically slammed the bottle into an empty one. Was it stupid to chill Scotch? He honestly couldn’t even remember anymore as he desperately wished he could’ve dunk his already hardening erection on the ice as well. He needed to get a grip, needed to calm down, needed to pretend like he hadn’t already seen your body in the many pictures you had posted online in the two years that you’d been gone.

He served himself a double, watching as you left the door wide open and retreated back upstairs. He lingered by the table for a moment, finishing his drink and calming himself down. He’d known you for a little over two years, at least on a first name, dinner at your house every month, type of way. You had just graduated high school when he started teaching part time at the college where your father also taught. The two of them had become fast friends and in the months that followed while you waited out the summer to start classes you had babysat Jack while Aaron was away on cases.

It was wrong and he definitely knew it. But there was something so captivating about you, about your kindness and curiosity and interest in not only his work but in him as a person. You loved getting to know people, getting to share secrets and discuss the root of existence and emotion and life. It was easy to forget that you were this young, your eloquence far higher than most of the adults that had just started shuffling into your home.

He’d filled his glass up once more as your father’s friends and his colleagues arrived. He plastered on a polite smile and greeted everyone as they made their way through the house. The repetitive nature of small talk for the next twenty minutes allowed him to forget about you, calm his body down enough to appear normal, collected.

He had migrated to the backyard with the rest of his colleagues after a while, the men around him engaged in mindless conversation about the break ahead, their vacation plans, and anything that wasn’t about the elephant in the room, because he knew, they all knew, that your father had clearly been caught redhanded and if they didn’t get their wives to agree that he was nothing more than a victim, they could be taken down next.

You waited until the backyard was packed with people before you emerged from your room. If your father didn’t want his friends gossiping about his affair tonight then you’d give them something else to talk about. And what better thing to gossip about than your father’s college age daughter practically displaying her body for all of his married friends and their wives.

Wearing that skimpy thing that did nothing to cover you up could only mean one thing – you were trying to get back at your father. Aaron couldn’t help but almost choke on his drink as he watched you saunter back out of the house. His ears began ringing loudly as you swayed your hips, clearly asking for attention. You walked right up to the edge of the pool and dove in without so much as a single word, the stark contrast between the cocktail party and your rebellious, summer blowout attitude jarring.

He couldn’t help but notice your father’s absence back out in the courtyard, your mother also conveniently nowhere to be seen. He could only assume that she was either consoling his poor, broken ego or sucking him off inside. Either outcome made him feel incredibly bad for you, bad that you had to come back home to rumors of your father’s infidelity and your mother’s complete denial of it.

While she was working overtime trying to fix a one sided relationship, you were determined to lash out against it in the most childish way you could possibly think of, and that unfortunately meant parading around your backyard filled with middle aged men in practically nothing.

Well, fortunate for him because he got to see the way your nipples hardened against the sheer fabric the second you stepped out into the cold night air, got to marvel at way your waist dipped into your full hips, the plush muscle begging to be squeezed tightly, got to catch the faintest glance at the outline of your pussy against the red material. It was unfortunate because he knew he wasn’t the only one staring at you and he had to bite his tongue as he began to hear the men around him murmur about your body.

He wanted to step up and use his own frame to shield you from them, to hide you away from their practically salivating stares. But instead he simply took a sip of his drink and allowed himself to watch you like a hawk, to silently guard, determined to step in if any of them actually decided to turn their thoughts into action. Because even then he couldn’t help but feel protective of you.

Your father came barrelling out of the house mere minutes later, your mother practically running to catch up and stop him. He was about to blow up, about to make a scene, one that you were eagerly waiting for when her hand landed on his chest and he seemingly remembered where he was and who he was surrounded by. He instantly relaxed his face and Aaron couldn’t help but take a step forward, tense and ready to fight him.

“Honey,” your mother spoke instead, layering the guilt on thick. “Please get out of the pool, I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Aaron set his glass down and walked over to the little hamper by the grill, expertly fishing out a large towel. He could feel everyone else start to notice that he’d moved, that he was inserting himself into something that clearly had nothing to do with him. But it didn’t matter the second that your round, hurt, expressive eyes met his. His gaze softened, just for you, to let you know that you didn’t want to make this any worse than it already was. And for the first time ever, you listened to him.

Your mother thanked him as he walked around them, towel extended in his hands for you to simply curl yourself into it. He could tell your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and when he draped the fabric over your shivering body, he could smell the faint, lingering scent of alcohol on your breath. He sighed deeply, just for himself and you followed suit, taking the moment to compose yourself.

“Thank you,” you whispered, delicate fingers taking the towel from him and wrapping it around yourself, terrified of what your reaction would be if you’d let him do it for you. You were back inside the house in seconds, the party resuming quickly as your parents started their rounds of greetings and small talk. He lingered by the pool for a few minutes, not wanting to be incredibly obvious about following you inside.

He told himself that he only wanted to make sure you were alright, that there was nothing wrong with being concerned for you after what had just happened. And so when the waiters began to pass out hors d'oeuvres, he took advantage of the distraction and slipped back into the house.

“Sweetheart?” he whispered loudly as he willed the wood beneath his feet not to creak loudly against the final step of the staircase. “Are you alright?”

The second floor was deserted, terrifyingly quiet and dark. He noticed the light was on in your bathroom across the hall from your room and he approached. The second his shadow landed over the wood, the door swung wide open, greedy hands grabbing a hold of his shirt and pulling him into the small room.

“I need you,” you slurred, your hands sliding down towards his belt, trembling fingers struggling with the silver buckle. He couldn’t stop the groan that erupted from his throat, the sounds spurring you on.

He was so distracted by the thrill, the shock and surprise of your neediness, of your clear desire for him that his brain short circuited for a second, lost to the sensations he’d been craving from you for years.

You’d never done anything like this before, never even flirted with each other as far as he was concerned since he made sure to watch his words around you, only allowing himself one thing, to call you sweetheart. Which could only indicate that your sudden boldness meant that you’d thought about this just as much as he had, that you’d caught him staring at you with hunger in his eyes just like he’d caught you staring at him with danger in yours.

“Sweetheart,” he said bluntly, trying to use his words before he was forced to use his hands to stop you. “You’ve had a lot to drink,” you scoffed. “You’re upset,” your hand squeezed over the outline of his cock and it took everything in him to not let out a single sound. That seemed to do the trick as your confident demeanor slipped away and the terrified girl desperately trying to hide resurfaced.

Tears laced your eyes, your chest began to shake, your hands trembled, slowly slipping away from his body. He scooped them both up in his warm, large palms, bending your arms over your chest before pressing you tightly to his. You began to sob then and it broke Aaron’s heart. Your face landed over his frantically beating heart. If you noticed through your tears you made no effort to comment on it. He held you like that for a while, not caring at all that his clothes were definitely wet now.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, arms crossing over your chest in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up now that you were clearly not going to get what you’d wanted only seconds before. He crouched down and picked up the towel off the floor, this time making it a point to drape it over you and wrap you tightly in it. You felt like a child, a dumb, stupid child that had just thrown a tantrum and had been scolded. It was humiliating.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he assured you, allowing himself to talk down to you just a little. His heart was still racing, his mind even more so now as he realized that the barrier that he’d put up between the two of you all those years ago had just been shattered into a million pieces. “Why don’t you take a shower and get some sleep?”

You nodded, refusing to look him in the eyes. But he would not have it. He hooked a finger under your chin, gently yet forcefully, pulling your gaze up to meet his. His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, your mouth opening slightly without him doing anything to you.

“Good girl,” he hummed and you practically whimpered, your thighs pressing together. The side of his mouth curled into the tiniest of smirks before he removed his hand from your body completely and walked out the door, leaving you alone in your bathroom with a fire burning in your chest.

You were unsure when the decision had been made, but you’d awoken the next day to a letter from your mother on the kitchen counter, the house spotless as the cleaning crew she’d hired probably went through it the night before. Your parents were gone for the rest of the summer, apparently one of your father’s friends had a timeshare at some resort in Italy and they were able to squeeze your parents into their trip last minute.

You released a sigh you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The memories of the events of the night before had been washing over you in powerful, drowning waves ever since you opened your eyes fifteen minutes ago. You regretted at least ninety percent of your actions, having been so wrapped up in getting back at your father that you had completely forgotten that your actions would also affect your mother. The look of disappointment, of complete and utter shame and embarrassment that had taken over her face as she spoke to you haunting, especially now in the brightness of the day.

And then there was Mr. Hotchner. Fuck, you cringed every time you remembered what you’d done, how you’d come onto him so pathetically. You couldn’t deny the rejection didn’t hurt but he had been right. You were upset, unbelievably so, and it would’ve stung even more to think of your first time with him to have been because you were trying to make your father angry, not because you actually wanted to sleep with him.

And oh boy did you want to.

As much as Freud was an idiot, you were very aware after two years of your psychology degree that your attraction to older men had everything to do with your need to seek the approval your father denied you from your romantic partners.

You’d had a very childish crush on Mr. Hotchner for years. It was silly, something that kept your pussy wet at night and made your friends giggle whenever you told them about the hot neighbor that you used to babysit for. But you knew he was unattainable. You could never have him, and sadly, that only made you want him even more.

In an act of defiance you hadn’t done what he’d told you to do the night before. Instead you took off the remaining pieces of clothing you still had on and tossed them into your shower before you walked across the hall to your room, pulled out the shitty bullet vibrator you’d left behind two years ago, and desperately tried to get yourself off. To say you’d been unsuccessful, your fingers and the weak device never even coming close to what you truly desired, what you needed.

That had only made you angrier, angrier at yourself, angrier at him. By the time you had drank your first cup of coffee all of your embarrassment had washed away into cold, seething irritation. He clearly wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You definitely hadn’t imagined the way he responded to your touch, the way he’d groaned in response. And that was the problem. He’d been holding himself back, whatever friendly relationship the two of you had built, one that you regarded as honest and sincere nothing more than a facade he’d concocted to keep you at arm’s length.

You grabbed a pair of sunglasses that your mother must’ve left on the kitchen counter and placed them over your eyes before walking back out to your backward. You were aware that there was a specific spot in front of the sliding doors that he could see from his house next door. You’d noticed it when you were babysitting one time, the thrill that he could’ve seen you in your bikini at some point that summer driving you insane.

You didn’t want to be at arm’s length anymore. You refused to let whatever fears you were holding onto because of his relationship with your father to stop you from going after what you’d wanted for so long.

You dragged a lounge chair over to that exact spot, the blaring sun perfectly over it as the excuse you needed in case he brought up your pathetic ploy. Once you were satisfied with your placement you shrugged off the robe you’d been wearing, the fabric falling off your shoulders and pooling around your feet in an instant to reveal absolutely nothing covering your body.

You’d fallen asleep at some point, completely naked and aggravated. You made sure to take your time getting into a comfortable position over the chair, chest out, legs curled suggestively, putting all of your assets on display. With the bait set, it was now a matter of waiting for him to bite.

You heard him yell your name across your house about ten minutes later. It didn’t surprise you that he had his own set of keys, your stomach already twisting in anticipation and excitement at just how easy it had been to get him exactly where you wanted him.

“Are you decent?” he asked with a smirk in his voice. He knew you weren’t. “Jack is here with me.”

You practically leapt off the chair, frantically picking up the robe and putting it on as the two of them walked out onto the backyard. Jack said your name then, chipper and excited, immediately melting away any ice left behind. You turned around just in time for the boy to wrap himself around your legs, squeezing you into a tight hug which you reciprocated, pulling him up to sit on your hip.

“Hi, angel,” you greeted the boy. “How’s summer treating you?”

“Hot,” he replied, trying to push himself away from you. You couldn’t help but laugh, setting him back down in the shade. “Can we swim in your pool?”

“Of course you can!” you replied. “Do you mind if I join you?”

The boy’s eyes practically widened out of his head in joy, turning back to his dad with just an unbelievable amount of energy.

“Not at all,” Mr. Hotchner replied for him and you shot him a smile before you excused yourself to go change into something kid appropriate.

To say that he’d seen your little display was an understatement. He’d been sitting on his desk in his home office, finalizing his weekly schedule with Jessica when he saw you step out. He knew, after much trial and error, that you couldn’t see him from this angle, and so he made no effort to move to get a better look.

And then you took off your robe and he was abruptly presented with your naked body. His mouth went dry in an instant, his pupils dilated, his heart pounded against his chest. It took him a full minute to realize that Jessica was trying to get his attention before his brain reconnected with his body and he asked her to repeat herself.

Five minutes later he was hanging up the call and rushing down the hall to ask Jack if he wanted to go swimming. The boy practically leapt to his feet, running across his room to get himself ready. They didn’t have a pool at their house, so your mother had generously let them use theirs after you went away for college. She’d even gotten them key to the house and sent him the alarm code every time they changed it just in case.

Aaron changed into his swimsuit in record time, practically tripping as he ran back and forth, all over the house, looking for the many, many toys that Jack definitely needed to stay distracted for the next few hours. As much as he wanted to walk over alone, find you naked and eager for him, fuck you on the lounge chair and then probably inside the pool to cool off, he couldn’t leave Jack behind, he wouldn’t leave Jack behind because he didn’t want you to know just how much you had affected him.

This was a power move, one that he had fallen for instantly. What he needed to do was not give in, not give you what you wanted, continue to frustrate you, to tease you until you couldn’t take it anymore, all because he wanted to remind you that he held all the cards, that he was the one calling the shots, that he would be the one on top while you writhed in pleasure beneath him.

You returned a few minutes later in a plain black one piece. To say he was disappointed was an understatement, but he admired your decorum while you were around Jack. It was like a flip had switched, eyes clouded with lust and desire clearing away to joy and excitement to spend your day with a hyperactive kid instead of lazily sunbathing your troubles away.

You handed Mr. Hotchner a bottle of sunscreen, having specifically chosen the cream kind instead of the spray so that he’d be forced to touch you when you asked, “Would you mind getting my back?”

He looked up at you with the same eyes from last night and you were surprised your knees didn’t buckle. He looked at Jack then to make sure the boy was adequately engrossed in his toys, clearly deciding which ones he was going to play with first, before he opened the bottle and squirted some of the cream into his palm.

“On my lap,” he ordered, low and just for you to hear. Your eyes immediately darkened and he smirked knowingly. You rolled your eyes then, reminding yourself that today was just playful after all.

You stepped forward towards his opened legs and prettily sat yourself down on his thigh, your back to him. You’d already put your hair up so he went right in. His warm, sticky palms landed on the sides of your neck first, slowly sliding down your shoulders before they returned to the center and then slid down your exposed back. While you couldn’t wear the skimpy, barely there suit you wanted, you’d still chosen something that gave him a subtle peek of your body.

He continued his movements, unapologetically taking his time, dragging his touches, lingering over your neck and putting pressure around it. You shivered under his hands, your ass unconsciously grinding down on his leg.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he purred in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You stilled immediately, his fingers squeezing around your neck softly in reward. “All done.”

Your brain processed the words and yet you made no effort to stand up, and he made no effort to make you. His hands grazed down your arms, the backs of his fingers practically leaving feather light kisses on your skin until they landed on your hips. He gave your love handles a squeeze before he let his hands settle over your lap, leaning down to rest his chin on the crook of your neck.

The gesture itself had been so casual yet unbearably intimate that you didn’t notice you’d stopped breathing until your lungs started to burn. You inhaled sharply, your entire body shivering as you tried to keep the panting at bay.

“You say the word and I’ll stop, sweetheart,” he whispered against your neck, gentle and kind, his tone meant to reassure you that you still had power. You nodded and he pressed a kiss below your ear, making you shudder once more. “So responsive for me.”

A whine escaped your lips, making Jack turn back to face the two of you. His hands were off you before you could even register, your own body reacting instinctively as you shot up to your feet.

“Ready to get in the water?” you managed, flashing the boy a bright smile. He nodded enthusiastically, picking up a few of his diving toys in one hand before taking your outstretched hand with his other one. He diligently led you to the shallow end of the pool and Aaron watched as you both threw the little fishes into the deep end, giggling as Jack tried to toss them farther than you.

He took a moment to compose himself, a moment to shift the material of his swim suit to try and hide the evidence of his arousal. He hated how easy it was for him to come undone around you, how you had him wrapped around your finger and could get him hard by simply existing. It made him feel young again, his libido higher than it’d been in years, and it was all because of you.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard you and Jack splash against the water. Jack resurfaced first, already panting as he worked overtime to keep himself above water. You appeared then, like a beautiful mermaid coming above water to lure unsuspecting sailors to their deaths. And in that moment Aaron knew that he’d sink to the bottom of the ocean if it meant he could have even a taste of you.

“Daddy!” Jack yelled, getting his attention. “Come into the pool!”

“Yeah, daddy,” you teased. “What are you waiting for?”

All the playfulness drained from his face in a second, making you choke on your own saliva in response before it reappeared as if nothing had happened. Your thighs rubbed together, the knowledge of the effect your words had had on him thrilling.

“Coming buddy,” he replied to the boy, choosing to ignore you as he stood back up, kicking off his flip flops and cannonballing into the pool.

Jack’s laughter brought you back down to reality as the waves his dad had created crashed over you, cooling your overheating face. You watched him resurface at the other end of the pool, one of the fishes you’d thrown under between his fingers.

“One to zero,” he announced playfully and Jack gasped, immediately diving down to gather as many fishes as he could, giving Aaron the perfect pocket of privacy to glance back at you. His face fell into a stern look of warning, daring you to call him that again to see what you could find out.

You smirked back briefly before diving underwater, the mere mention of a challenge overshadowing whatever tension lingered between the two of you.

You grabbed three fishes, swimming across the pool towards him underwater. You made sure Jack was above water before you made your move, fingers wrapping around Mr. Hotchner’s trunks to pull yourself out of the water as you practically climbed him.

You felt him tense against your touch and that made your body flood with warmth once more. You made him feel like this, you made him react like this, you had the same effect on him that he had over you.

Your head pierced the surface and he wasted no time pulling you further out of the water, his arm hooking around your waist again and pressing your hip against his painfully hard erection.

You gasped loudly, nervously looking around and noticing that Jack had thankfully gone back underwater so at the very least he wouldn’t see the euphoric expression on your face.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. “Mr. Hotchner,” you whined and his grip tightened.

For a second you forgot about where you were and the game you were still playing. Your eyes landed on his. They were hazy, glossed over and dangerously close to snapping.

“Address me properly,” he ordered, lifting his knee to slide between your legs and press you further into him. You swallowed a moan, your breathing ragged, your skin unbearably tight over your body.

You opened your mouth to speak but the word was screamed into existence by a voice that wasn’t yours. The two of you turned to face Jack who was eagerly swimming over to where the two of you were. You started to shift uncomfortably, trying to pull away from him, but he kept you in place as if you weren’t caught in a compromising position.

“Did you get tired of swimming?” Jack asked you like this was the most normal thing in the world and you managed a nod. “That’s okay! I get tired sometimes and daddy has to hold me too.”

Your cheeks heated up once more and you thanked every deity out there that the sun was so hot on your skin that the kid didn’t notice a change. Jack reached out and grabbed a hold of his father’s shoulder to keep himself above water before pulling out his other hand from under the water, a fistfull of the colorful fishes in his palm.

“I got six!” he told you and you finally snapped out of your daze, groaning dramatically as you showed him your own loot only being three.

“I demand a rematch!” you told the boy before tossing your fishes back into the pool. He followed your lead and held your stare, the two of you seizing the other up before he got tired of waiting and dove back into the water, his giggles getting swallowed by the water.

“Little cheater!” Aaron let you go then and you followed after the boy. You were so concerned with winning the silly game that you didn’t even notice the dopey smile across his face, one that he couldn’t hide from himself, one that almost made his heart burst with happiness.

You played with the fishies a few more times until Jack was complaining that he was starting to get hungry and the three of you got out of the pool to dry off while Mr. Hotchner ordered lunch.

You reapplied Jack’s sunscreen, placed a hat over his head and a towel over his body before you walked into the house to make a pitcher of lemonade and get some of the fruit your mother had bought a few days ago so that you could snack on it while you waited for the pizza to get there.

You’d cut the lemons and had started squeezing them into the pitcher when his hands wrapped around your waist again, his front pressing against your back forcefully. You ground your ass back into him, never once stopping your task.

“Hi,” he whispered in your ear.

“Hello,” you replied, squeezing a half of a lemon with your hand, too lazy to get something else dirty.

“Thank you for today,” he continued, his hands now slowly running up and down your sides, begging to elicit a reaction from you. “I know it’s not exactly what you planned but Jack is having a lot of fun.”

You hummed in agreement. “I’m having a lot of fun too.”

“Oh, yeah?” he stepped forward, locking you in place between the counter and his chest. “I’m having a lot of fun three.”

You snorted at the insinuation and the terrible joke, and he laughed in return, the two of you devolving into a fit of giggles like you’ve known each other intimately for years. And in a weird, almost strange way, you had. You’ve always had this rapport with him, this deep understanding of each other, mostly because you were both so into the other that you’d actually spent many nights asking questions, eager to know more.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked you once the laughter subsided and your heart started beating rapidly once more.

You immediately twisted around in his grip, holding your hands up and away from him as the juices from the lemons ran down your arms.

“Yes,” you heaved and he didn’t waste another second as he pressed his lips to yours. They were so soft and still warm from the sun still lingering over them, lulling you into a sense of safety. You opened your lips as his hands left your waist and cupped your jaw to press you further into him. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue entered, deepening the kiss into a hungry and desperate mess.

He pulled back so you could breathe after a few more laps and your eyes blinked open, the light reflecting against them and making them shine almost ethereally. He smiled, his thumbs rubbing over your cheeks. You returned the smile, somehow already feeling warm and fuzzy from just a kiss. He leaned in again, his nose playfully tickling your own, making you giggle sweetly. He truly wanted nothing more than to make you laugh all the time.

He was about to press his lips against yours again, already craving the feeling like a man that had been left to wander the desert for days, when his phone rang loudly, interrupting the tender moment. He sighed deeply, apologetically looking at you and you immediately shook your head, letting him know not to worry about it. He picked up the phone, determined to make the conversation quick so he could return to what he truly wanted to do.

In the meantime you finished the lemonade, washed your hands with soap, and brought the pitcher, some glasses, and the bowl of cubed watermelon to the table outside. You checked in on Jack, the boy having fallen asleep, making you chuckle softly. You sat yourself at the table and waited for him to come back, already missing his lips.

It was certainly an interesting turn of events, made even more interesting by how easy it was to fit into his life. Even with your parents you always felt like the odd one out, like they were their own thing and you just sort of existed around them. But with Mr. Hotchner and Jack…you felt like you just fit right in, like you’d always been a part of their family.

When he finally exited into the backyard he bore a very different expression on his face, one of remorse and stress. The playfulness from before had left his body and all that remained was the stoic FBI agent you’d sometimes get when he returned from cases or…got called into one.

You sighed deeply, knowing that was exactly what had happened and he had to stop himself from melting at the thought that you just knew what he needed before he could even ask it.

“Do you need me to look after Jack?” you asked as he sat down on the chair across from you.

“Please,” he replied, taking your hand in his and squeezing gently. “Jessica can pick him up at school Wednesday afternoon and take him to her place.”

You nodded, returning the squeeze and trying to alleviate his guilt with an understanding smile.

“When do you leave?” he asked you then, one of the many elephants in the room finally getting addressed.

“Friday morning,” you replied and it was his turn to sigh, defeated. As much as you understood his work and just how much he needed it, he also understood your own, your life being far away from D.C., far away from him. He just wanted you all to himself, here with him all the time, and it pained him that he couldn’t have it.

After allowing himself another moment of sitting in silence, of feeling his emotions and letting them tear his heart into pieces, he stood up, pulling you to your feet with him. He crushed his lips to yours and your hands finally tangled in his hair, his own greedily squeezing your hips.

“Pizza should be here any minute,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I got it, don’t worry,” you replied, pressing a closed kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you say goodbye to Jack?”

He nodded, reluctantly letting you go as he knelt down beside the lounge chair and woke the boy up. You watched as they said their goodbyes, your fingers coming up to trace your lips where he’d just kissed you, all the conflicting things you were feeling crashing over you at once.

The first phone call came that same night. It was late, you were already asleep when your phone vibrated on the nightstand next to you. You were honestly surprised that you’d heard it, annoyed more so than surprised as your eyes blinked open painfully.

“Hello?” your voice was deep, hoarse and clearly exhausted.

“Hi, sweetheart,” his on the other hand was soft and awake.

“Hi,” you replied, settling back on the soft pillow and closing your eyes.

“Did I wake you?”

“Mhmm,” you whined and it broke his heart.

“I’m sorry,” to his credit, he did sound sorry.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled.

“I just wanted to say goodnight to Jack.” And to you.

“He fell asleep immediately…” You tried to stay awake, desperately, but sleep was pulling you down, the heat from spending the entire day under the sun had seeped deep into your bones, making them heavy. The current had sinked your boat and you were peacefully sinking under the waves with it. You didn’t even register him calling your name, realizing that you were probably out of it, and finally telling you that he’d call you another time.

You woke up bright and early the next morning, your senses overwhelmed by just how much his bed smelled like him.

It was honestly a stupid thought, that the things that were his carried him with them, but it didn’t matter how many times you’d slept here in the past, there was something so all consuming about them now.

Your three days with Jack went by quickly. You had forgotten how much of a perfect kid he was, how attentive and kind and easy it was to take care of him. Getting him ready for school was a breeze, breakfasts were filled with laughter and him rambling on about the dream he’d had the night before. Once you dropped him off at school, you found yourself missing him more than you ever had, and so you spent your days wandering aimlessly.

On Monday you cleaned the entire house, top to bottom. You put on one of Mr. Hotchner’s records on and drowned the house in music, your voice booming just as loudly as the singer’s, wanting nothing more than to distract yourself from the ache in your chest.

On Tuesday there was a lice outbreak and luckily, Jack was not affected. They still had to shut down the school for the day, so Jack had gotten a half day. You took him to the store to buy enough baking supplies to start your own bakery, and spent the rest of the afternoon making cookies and cupcakes.

It was around six that your phone rang. You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the two of you. Saucepan forgotten, you immediately crossed the room, fingers fumbling to answer the phone.

“Hey, give me one second,” you cut him off, putting him on speaker before you stepped out into the hall. “Jack! Your dad’s on the phone!”

“I don’t know if I should be touched or offended that you don’t want to speak with me,” he cracked and you couldn’t help but smile, making your way back to the device on his counter.

“I always want to talk to you,” you hummed. “But I also know you’re busy and—”

“Dad!” Jack ran into the kitchen, swiping the phone away from you and running right back down the hall. You laughed to yourself, returning to the stove before you burnt something.

You hadn’t been speaking, not really. Every so often you’d send him a picture of what you were up to and he’d do his best to reply, always short and sweet. He never sent any pictures of his own for obvious reasons, but it still made your heart constrict every time that you woke up the morning after to a missed call from him.

They were on the West Coast, in a small town somewhere in Oregon. At least that’s what you’d gathered from the messages here and there. By Wednesday you said goodbye to Jack at dropoff and told him you’d see him for Christmas. He was, understandably, very upset, since you’d just spent, what he kept calling, the best three days of his life with him. It broke your heart, shattered it into a million pieces, but you reminded him that you didn’t live there anymore and that you had other places to be. Obviously not cooler than spending time with him, but that it was still important.

Jessica called you that afternoon to let you know that she had Jack and you chatted for a bit. She was always so easy to talk to, her openness to their strange family dynamic almost overwhelmingly supportive. She always remembered your birthday, always sent you a card (one that you knew she’d been making Mr. Hotchner and Jack to sign every year), and always made sure to ask if you were coming back home for any major break.

She liked having you around, liked the extra support you had given them while Jack was out on his own break, liked that the boy clearly loved you and felt safe around you. And after the three days you had spent with him then, it only made sense to start thinking about actually coming back home next summer to help them out, to have an excuse to see him as often as you could.

You spent Wednesday and Thursday working on the tasks you'd been left with from your internship. They had graciously allowed you to go home after you informed them there was a family emergency, but you still had to meet the weekly quota, just like everyone else. Being in your house alone was...exhausting. It was too quiet, too empty, too devoid of Jack's infectious laugh and...and Mr. Hotchner's low and inviting voice.

You hadn't spoken to him since you let him know Jessica had picked his son up. You knew he was busy, knew that he probably didn't want to speak to you while his mind was not in the right place, while he was using most of his energy to do his job. He didn't text and so neither did you. And as much as you understood why, the silence had only made your heart clench in pain, your brain already overthinking all the possibilities.

He was supposed to arrive in a few hours, having received the only text he'd sent to tell you that they were about to take off and that he should be back home in a few hours.

You’d decided to get one last swim in before you returned to your concrete life that was Brooklyn. But if you were being honest with yourself, you just needed a distraction.

You’d been drowning, quite literally, as the finality of the distance that you were about to put between yourself and Mr. Hotchner loomed closer and closer. Sure, he traveled a lot for work, he was away at least sixty percent of the time…but you had moved away two years ago with the intention of cutting yourself loose of all the ties keeping you in D.C.

It had been easy to do so, the only one that truly hurt you every day being your mother. But now, after sitting with your overwhelming crush that has snowballed into catching actual feelings for him…was hell.

You needed to talk to him about it, needed to ask him to tell you that everything was going to be okay, that you could make this work, whatever this was. But you also didn’t want to pressure him, didn’t want to pressure yourself to get tied down to something that could very easily not work out.

You were floating on your back, simply allowing the water to gently rock you around the pool when you saw a pair of slacked legs walking towards the edge of the pool.

“There you are, sweetheart,” he hummed. “I’ve been calling for a whole minute and you didn’t answer.”

You stood yourself up, shooting him an apologetic smile as you walked towards him.

“'m sorry,” you murmured, the tightening on your heart only squeezing harder now that he was really here. He shot you a smile in response but he looked tired, defeated almost. You could only imagine what it must feel like to walk around with all of that weight, with the burden of the atrocious things they dealt with every day.

He squatted down next to the edge and you propped yourself up on the space between his legs to pull yourself high enough for his lips to reach yours. The kiss was short and soft, domestic almost, as if you did this every time he came back home from a long case.

You slid back into the water, unable to hold yourself up any longer as an excuse to put some distance between the two of you. You were certain that if he stared at you for even a second longer, he would definitely know there was something wrong, that somehow he’d be able to see into your body and realize just how contorted your heart was.

“Join me?” you asked, trying to change the subject before it was even brought up.

He sighed, conflicted. “I don’t think we should, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you whined. “I promise I’ll behave.”

He chuckled at that, knowing fully well that you most definitely would not, because he would most certainly not. But he found himself standing back up, quickly shrugging off his button down, the white wife pleaser underneath, his shoes, socks, and pants. You watched him in awe, mouth hanging slightly open as you began to salivate, your desire quickly making you forget all about your painful feelings.

He smirked at you as he sat down on the edge of the pool and slowly lowered himself into it. You hadn’t realized until he stretched his hand out to you that you’d drifted away to the other side of the pool. You took a small, steadying breath, trying to appear as normal as possible before you walked back to him.

His hands wrapped around you instantly, bringing you into him tightly. It was almost as if he relaxed into you, his breathing deep and steady, a drastic contrast to your rapidly beating heart. You tried so hard to copy his rhythm, to blend into it in a feeble attempt to not raise suspicion, to show him that you were happy he was back.

And it worked...for almost a second.

“Thank you for taking care of Jack,” he said.

“It was my pleasure,” you replied almost too quickly.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” he pulled back, his gaze desperately trying to meet yours.

You hated him so much, hated how good he was at his job, hated how he could read you like it was the easiest thing in the world. Meanwhile, you were having to use all of your knowledge to just guess how he was feeling.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lied, your fingers subconsciously fiddling with his hair. He sighed, shifting your core away from his as his hand snaked down to pull your swimsuit bottoms out of the way. Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, finally snapping up to meet his but his attention was no longer on your face.

Before you could question the sudden advance, he plunged his middle finger into you, making you moan loudly, your walls clenching around him.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he ordered, his finger curling upwards to hook against the spot that he somehow knew instinctively would make you come undone.

You whined, holding onto him tighter. “I’m scared!”

“Of what?”

“This–” he curled his finger again, another moan erupting. “Us– fuck, I’m scared that I won’t be able to see you every day and it’ll mess up whatever this is,” you practically screamed.

His movements stilled and you decided to foolishly allow yourself to meet his eyes. He was staring at you with what you could only describe as relief?

You blinked, realizing that he was allowing you to read him like he could read you. You’d said exactly what he was thinking, what he was also holding in, what the heaviness that he carried had been about.

He pressed further into you. “Do you want to be mine?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “I want to be yours, all yours.”

“That’s good,” he groaned. “Because I want to be all yours too, sweetheart.”

You whined at his words, the tight grip fear had on your heart releasing just enough to let you breathe again.

“I thought…” you trailed off, afraid that if you said what you’d thought aloud that he’d hate you. Instead he just waited patiently for you to muster the courage to say what you’d been holding in. “I thought you might only want to fuck me and nothing else.”

He shoved another finger into you at that, as if you say how dare you think that. You moaned again, your body tensing up, your walls pulsing around his fingers, practically keeping them hostage inside of you.

“So tight,” he mumbled, clearly needing a moment to regain his composure before he spoke again. “I’ve wanted you– to be with you for a while, sweetheart. I was just…afraid of how it could destroy your relationship with your parents.”

The second elephant in the room reappeared and you couldn’t help but get another one of your fears off your chest.

“Did you know he was…” you trail off before you can finish your sentence but Aaron knew exactly what you wanted to ask him.

“No, I didn’t,” he shook his head, intensely observing your reaction. When you tensed under his touch he wasted no time to press a soft kiss to your temple. If you didn’t know but now you do then why are you still hanging around with him? That was the second part of your question, of your uneasiness, of your tensing body.

“To see you,” he murmured against your skin and you pulled back from his touch, far enough to look him in the eyes. “I kept coming back to see you.”

The confession made your stomach flip. You didn’t know how to respond, how to tell him that you’d felt the same way in a way that didn’t make you come across as insane or clingy or immature. So instead you smiled softly, leaning forward to press your lips to his once more. His grip on your body tightened, his lips on yours opened, pulling you further into him. You may not have tomorrow, but you definitely had tonight.

“I am more than happy and willing to take this slow, to just see where it goes,” he makes it crystal clear, no way to misinterpret his words, no way for you to twist them until you’ve convinced yourself that you’re crazy. Instead you just let your mind free.

“Please fuck me,” you begged and a groan loudly erupted from his throat. His fingers resumed their fast pace but you whined in response, trying to stop him. “No, I need your cock in me, please.”

He shushed you then, kissing your temple gently as he only doubled down in his forcefulness.

“Let me make you cum first,” he replied. “I gotta stretch you out, you’re so tight.”

You whimpered then, a symphony of breathy moans as you remembered just how big he’d felt through his pants. If he was telling you he needed to work you up before he could slide inside of you then you would obey. Fuck, the anticipation alone was going to be the death of you.

The water began to splash over the edge, the constant crashing of waves somehow in perfect synchronicity to the pace he’d set. It quickly became overwhelming, as if your pleasure was so intense it was actually transcending your body and manipulating the world around you.

You moaned into his ear, your hands desperately digging into his back, trying to anchor yourself to him, afraid that you could slip away at any moment. He began peppering kisses along your jaw, each one lower and lower until he was physically unable to reach any more of your skin due to the water level.

You were so close, so, so, close and he could feel it. Your body had tensed, your toes curled against his lower back, pulling him closer to you. And with one final thrust against the spot inside of you that made you see stars, the band snapped and you were screaming, not caring if the neighbors could hear you.

He worked you through your orgasm, his fingers slowing down to a bearable pace as you rested your forehead against his chest.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, clearly concerned that you hadn’t said something for a couple of minutes. You nodded against his body, slowly pushing against his chest to face him.

“Never better,” you replied and his eyebrows shot up in provocation.

“Do you want to make them a little better?” he teased and you couldn’t help the smile that took over.

“Yes.”

He pulled his hand out of you and you whined at the loss of contact.

“Such a greedy girl,” he mocked. “You’re about to be stuffed with my cock and you’re whining about missing my fingers.”

You shivered, eyes darkening as he grabbed a hold of your hand and led you back to the shallow end of the pool. He helped you out of the water, his hands attentive, possessive, never once letting you take a step without being on you.

Once you were out of the water he pulled you into him swiftly, lips back on yours with abandon. You practically melted into his touch, into his embrace, into him. Every thought in your brain was about him, about how soft his lips were, about how he smelled like a warm fire in a forest, about how his rough hands felt on your body, about how desperate he was for you.

You didn’t even register as he undid the knots of your bathing suit, only felt the cold air against your nipples, making them immediately perk up. The back of his hands accidentally brushed one as he shuffled to discard your top and you moaned into his mouth. The noise that reverberated from him in response was addictive. His eyes snapped open and he pulled back, your own lips chasing his in protest.

But he didn’t give you a second to figure him out as he arched your back with his hands, his mouth latching onto the nipple he’d just touched. It was your turn to mewl, eyes glossy and hands hungry to dig into him.

“Aaron,” you whimpered and he froze, ice cold, fully stopping his movements. His mouth softly unlatched from your breast, a thin string of saliva connecting him to you. Your face heated up immediately, the mere thought that you did something to upset him filled your eyes with tears.

“What did you say?” he asked, softly, as if he knew you were feeling like a small little animal and he needed to be careful not to spook you.

“A-Aaron?” you mumble, not even once fully comprehending what you had just done.

“You’ve never called me Aaron before,” he explained, taking pity on how much your brain was clearly not working at the moment.

You blinked in confusion, a tear accidentally falling down your cheek. He immediately wiped it away, looking down at you with eyes filled with nothing but adoration.

“I’m sorry—” you started, unsure exactly what you’re apologizing for. And he shuts you up with a kiss immediately.

“Say it again,” he groaned against your lips.

“Aaron,” you repeated, his name finally feeling heavy and important on your tongue.

He places a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Again.”

“Aaron.”

Another kiss, this one on your neck. “Again.”

“Aaron,” he licked down to the base of your neck, his teeth greedily sinking into your soft skin as his lips suck. “Fuck, Aaron, please.”

You whined again, the sting of his mouth marking your body absolutely making you lose it. Whatever wits remained evaporated in an instant. When he pulled back, eyes practically raven, face flushed, lips plump and swollen, you couldn’t help the need to reward him.

Your hands landed on the pronounced outline of his cock against his still wet, black boxers. He wasn’t quick enough to stop you as you wasted no time pulling the fabric off him. Your eyes widened, your breathing hitched in your throat, your hand trembled slightly as you abandoned your efforts to get his boxers down his thighs and instead tentatively returned your hand to hover over his length.

He was so hard, the vein running along the underside practically pulsating. You tentatively traced it with your nail and he hissed. You smiled to yourself, your full palm replacing your finger as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly pumping him.

His own hand curled around your wrist, demanding you to stop. Your eyes shot up to finally see him, to see just how clenched his jaw was, just how deep his breathing had become.

“No, sweetheart,” he huffed. “I need you.”

As if you could both finally read each other’s minds, you untangled yourselves from each other, discarding the clothing that remained on your bodies and tossed it away before his eyes landed on you, on your naked frame, now right in front of him and not far away, separated from him by the haziness of glass.

His eyes raked lower to your pussy and his brows knitted in surprise.

“You have a tattoo,” the question blended into a statement as his hand gripped your hip, pulling you forward so that he could see it better. You bit your lip, amused by just how mesmerized he looked.

“A friend of mine gave it to me first semester,” you explained, omitting the many health code violations, how you’d been high and couldn’t remember actually getting it, or the fact that you had been sleeping with your friend when he did.

He traced his thumb over it, the placement was lower than your hip, easily hidden by your underwear and small enough that he’d never been able to make it out at a distance. His thumb dug into the center of the shitty heart then, anchoring his grip as he pulled you back to him. You moaned at the sting and it only spurred him on, the realization that you liked it when he hurt you igniting a fire in him.

His other arm hooked under your ass, lifting you over his shoulder. You gasped loudly, your confusion quickly turning into a fit of giggles as he moved you both towards the lounge chair that you had rearranged earlier that week to face his house.

He made sure to hook his foot around the pants he’d discarded earlier, kicking them forward with his foot, making sure that they landed right against the chair. He then unlatched the backrest and quickly set you down on it, your entire body over the comfortable foam cushion your mother had bought last year just for the Hotchners.

He knelt between your legs, hands running down your body to pry them open for him. It didn’t take much as you opened yourself up to him eagerly. He grinned, the smile that graced you one that you’d never seen from him before, one that even he couldn’t remember when he’d smiled like that last.

Before he forgot, he reached over to where he’d thrown his pants, growing impatient as he struggled to pull out his wallet and procure a single silver wrapper from it. You’d been so consumed by the moment that you hadn’t even thought about protection.

You thought about telling him not to, that you were on birth control and that as far as you were concerned you were clean. But you had no idea where he’d been, not that talking about his sexual partners bothered you, but bringing it up now did not seem like the right time.

“Someone was sure of himself,” you teased, watching him roll on the sheer latex over himself with more concentration than you’d ever seen from him before, and that was saying a lot.

He retaliated by slamming his tip into you without warning. Your head fell back, a moan rocking through you and down to your core, the waves reverberating against him, causing him to take a sharp, steadying breath.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he panted, a little condescending and you swallowed the urge to fight back, to resume the game you’d started when you called him daddy. He didn’t know just how deep you were willing to go, how much fun the two of you would have.

But tonight wasn’t the night for it. You needed him, craved him, desperately demanded that he fill the ache between your legs. You nodded, your hands gripping the cushion below you.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your need to anchor yourself, his ego boosted so high he had no idea how he was supposed to come back down. But he didn’t care, he couldn’t care, not when you were laid out in front of him like a buffet, what he’d been starving for the only thing on the menu now.

His left hand wrapped around your thigh, opening you further. You propped your other leg over the armrest, and he pushed forward. He had not been lying, fortunately for you. He stretched you painfully, practically stuffing you full.

He made it halfway into you when you hissed, one of your hands shooting up to wrap around his bicep, urging him to stop. He stilled immediately, slowly rocking his hips back to slide out of you before slowly pushing himself back in.

That’s when you fell, your arms giving out under you. An accomplished grin lit up his features. He sat himself back up on his heels to tower over you. Your hand sliding down to the one he’d wrapped around your leg, your fingers lacing with his, almost like a pinky promise as he continued his slow rhythm, never giving you too much, never forcing your body to take anything it wasn’t ready for.

You could practically feel the wetness dripping out of you, coating him more and more with every thrust. He could clearly feel it too, the slick making it easier for him to slide in and out of you each time.

He took it as an indication to keep going. He thrust back into you, pushing himself just an inch further than before. You were a mess of whines and whimpers, your back arching in response, needing him fully in you.

“Please, Aaron,” you slurred. “More.”

He pulled out of you completely, the desire to see himself slam back into you fully overwhelming. His hips pushed forward, easily sliding himself inside to the hilt, your ass slapping against his hips beautifully. He moaned then, his hands flying to your hips, locking you in place. You whimpered, your head craning up enough to see there was no space left between the two of you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, your walls clenching around him unconsciously.

His eyes shut close in pleasure at your movement, jaw clenching, fingers digging into your skin deeper. You took him in, on the verge of coming undone, on the verge of cumming in seconds like a teenage boy that didn’t know how to stop himself.

You giggled, your warm laughter bringing him back to you as he realized what you were laughing about. He scoffed, blush creeping over his cheeks in the most adorable way. You clenched around him again, deliberate and mean. He almost screamed then, the moan that left his lips guttural and raw.

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” he huffed. “I don’t want to cum yet, give me a second, alright?”

You sighed, feigning annoyance, but respected his request, unclenching your muscles to give him a moment of respite. Your hands began to draw circles over his own, nails slowly dragging up his arms and towards his chest, gentle, curious, exploring.

You took your time, diligently running your fingers over every ridge, every dip, every single one of the scars that littered his abdomen. They were smaller now and faded from what they had been when he was first attacked, but you knew they were there.

He hadn’t told you the full story, hadn’t really mentioned it aside from briefly alluding to it when he was forced to explain a comment Jack had made in passing one time, a comment about his mother. But you’d noticed them years ago, and as much as he could act like he was over it, like he was comfortable being shirtless around you, you needed him to know that he was safe, that he could trust you.

He didn’t flinch under your touch, instead he hummed, his own hands shifting their grip on you to show you how much he appreciated your touch.

“Did you catch the bad guy?” you asked suddenly. He turned to face you with a scolding expression, this is clearly not the time for this. It only made you laugh again, embarrassed. “What? Thinking about gross things helps!”

“I don’t want to ever think about that when I’m with you, got it?” he commanded.

“Yes, sir,” you replied and his eyes darkened once more, whatever fear of bursting immediately leaving his body as lustful greed flooded back in, emboldening him.

“What you called me the other day,” he started, somehow both confident in what he wanted to ask and yet boyishly shy about it. “Are you okay with that?”

“What did I call you?” you acted dumb, so dumb indeed that it got you another powerful, forceful jam of his cock. You squealed, his tip now uncomfortably pressing deeply into you. “No, daddy, ’s too much,” you whined, your voice hitching into a sweet, high pitch that made his cock twitch inside of you. “It hurts.”

“Too deep?” he asked in his normal voice, making sure to check in with you. You nodded, desperate for him to pull back, and he immediately returned to the comfortable pain. You let out a deep breath, air filling your lungs again. He was concerned, but more than anything he was turned on, the desire to ruin you too strong. “I’m going to start moving, alright?”

“Yes, daddy,” you mumbled and he groaned loudly, his cock practically taking on a life of its own and making him react in a way he’d never experienced before.

Aaron understood what desire was, he knew what it felt like, knew what to do with it, but this? This wasn’t desire. This was debilitating, allconsuming, painful almost. His brain disconnected from his body, it was as though he was floating next to his body as well as feeling everything that was happening around him, to him, because of him.

He wanted to consume you, wanted to lose himself to the perfect sounds coming out of you, wanted to feel your tightness around him all the time, wanted to drown and stay at the bottom of your waters forever.

His moans danced with yours in a delicate choir ensemble, the slapping of your bodies coming together becoming the bass keeping the pace, the rattling of the lounge chair against the concrete floor the percussion, the scrapping of the mattress against the plastic the strings – it was all too much, too good, too perfect.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” he whined. “Rub your clit for me.”

Whatever coherent thoughts were left in you forced your body to obey immediately, your shaky hand landing in between your bodies. Your fingers were met with a lewd amount of slick, your clit puffy and screaming out to be touched. You rolled your fingers over it and the sensitivity sent you into overdrive, a snap of electricity running all the way down to your opening.

He moaned in response, your core starting to tighten with each thrust, with each touch. The pressure was tight, tighter, desperately trying to force your dam to burst.

“Daddy,” you whimpered. “Daddy, please, please, please, please–”

“Cum, sweetheart, cum all over me,” he demanded and you let it break. Waves of pleasure crashed against you, your entire body shaking, thrashing, slamming against his. Your moans turned into whines, you dug into his forearms, your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him further into you, locking him in place.

The second he felt you clench against him, the second he felt your core tighten, your slick warm his entirety, your nails digging into his arms so hard he wouldn’t be surprised you drew blood – he lost it. He managed to thrust into you two more times before he slammed himself as far as he could inside of you, not caring if it was uncomfortable for you.

He came hot and hard into the condom, his own pleasure blurring his vision, making his own body shake against yours, making his heart feel like it had skipped a beat. He stopped breathing for a few seconds, the sensations too overwhelming for his body to remember that it needed to breathe to survive.

You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling as if you’d just ran a marathon. Your nails had stopped digging into his skin but he barely registered the lack of pain. It wasn’t until you ran your fingers over the indents in his arms that he opened his eyes, seeking yours immediately.

You waited until his gaze met yours as if it was about time it did. You smiled lazily at him, completely spent, content, satisfied. He returned the smile, allowing himself to lower his body down over yours. His chest pressed against your own, softly caging you, holding you captive as his aching lips found yours.

This kiss was unlike any of the ones you’d shared, unlike any of the ones you had shared with anyone before. It was definitive, possessive, claiming you as his, and yet it was unbearably gentle, playful, wholesome.

He was the first to pull back for air, but he didn’t move away, instead he pressed his forehead to yours, his gaze unflinching, trying to communicate so much with no words at all. It was like he was making sure to savor every last drop, committing the sight and feeling of you to memory.

Aaron took much of his life for granted, the routine of it all having numbed him to most things that other people would deem as exciting or fulfilling. The only area of his life where that wasn’t the case was his son. That little boy made everything worthwhile, every battle worth fighting, every day worth living. And now, looking at you, feeling how good he’d made you feel, he knew had found something else, someone else, that made him feel excited for what the next day could bring. That made him feel fulfilled in more ways than he could yet comprehend.

Whatever doubts you’d had, whatever walls you had started to put up to protect yourself now laid crumbled all around you. He was right from the start, you were his, whatever that happened would happen, the best that you could do was ride the waves and see where they would lead you. All that did matter was that he was there and that you knew that he was also yours.

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! This chapter was a blast to write after all the angst that Moments has killed me with.

My requests are open! I have a few chapter ideas for Mr. Hotchner but I would love to hear what y’all would like to see. Even if it doesn’t make it into the actual series, I will try to write some cute lil blurbs.

And also, because I’m a writer that needs validation, please leave me comments or love letters if you’d like to remain anon. I need the praise and love, thank you 🩷

Ps. The next chapter is titled Guest Lecturer so you can imagine what kind of debauchery I’m about to write.

Pss. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

#dbf!hotch #dbf!hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner #dbf!aaron hotchner #professor!Hotch #perv!hotch #we shouldn’t (and yet we do)

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vhagarlovebot · 2 years ago

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THE WAY I FEEL INSIDE.

pairing: modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: you’ve been in love with aemond targaryen ever since your second year at boarding school, the only problem is that he doesn’t know it and you’ve never been good at lying to him.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, pining, hurt/comfort, love confessions, mentions of alcohol, swearing, basically two idiots in love. it is a little bit long.

note: hello, lovely reader ! i just want to say a few things before you start reading. this was one of my first works here on this app but in a different blog way back when i used to write for the marauders. this was actually written thinking about remus lupin and i edited it the best i could, so you’re probably still going to see some very poor grammar and it’s because i’d just started writing in english and because of that it is completely normal for me to still have problems writing in a language that isn’t mine. i really hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

THE GREAT HALL IS A MESS in the morning and does not help with the migraine you woke up with, therefore you can’t focus on an essay that’s due today. it does not help that your friends are laughing and talking with each other either, it’s not like you’re good at paying attention to one thing when there’s a lot going on right next to you, so your attention shifts away to them not really listening to what they’re saying.

you’re still with your hands on your head looking directly at the book you have in front, trying to sort out the mess, when cregan’s voice startles you.

“you alright, love?” he asks from his seat in front of you, the hint of a smirk on his face.

“jus’ trying to finish this essay.” you say softly, closing the book and rubbing your tired eyes with the palm of your hand.

“i thought you finished it last night.” baela says, turning her head, body facing cregan. “you need help?”

“not really,” you give her a tired smile. “m’just tired, i didn’t sleep well last night.”

whatever baela says you can’t hear it because from the corner of your eyes you see aemond’s tall body getting closer to the table and sitting next to you. twenty minutes ago he was sitting at that same spot but left without saying a word, causing everyone to worry.

“here,” aemond gives you something, looking down you see a white pill in his open palm. “s’going to make you feel better.”

you don’t say anything, you just stare at those bright blue eyes and blushed cheeks. and he stares back, not paying attention to anyone but you.

you didn’t think aemond could do anything else to show how much he cares about you, but you were proved wrong. something as simple as this has your heart beating fast and tears filling your eyes, and you’re extra aware that he can hear the thump thump thump of your heart as much as you can see the frown that has taken over his face.

and you’re also aware your friends are watching, so you take a deep breath and the pill still sitting on his hand.

“always taking care of me, aem, thank you.” you mumble, laying your head on his shoulder.

you walk slowly through the halls, head in the clouds.

you were able to finish the essay on time, the migraine long gone, and the only reason you managed to do it was thanks to aemond because if he hadn’t gone to the infirmary then you’d still be sitting in the great hall eating your brains out.

at the thought of your best friend a smile makes its way on your face.

ever since you have known aemond he’s always been extra careful with you, extra attentive, extra caring. and you’re pretty sure it started during second year in boarding school when your parents sent you a letter saying they would not be home for christmas, which meant you had nowhere to go and no other option but to stay at the school alone. aemond was sitting close to you that day and saw the way you tried to hide your sadness with a small smile but weren’t able to keep the tears from falling, and when you left in such a hurry that you didn’t notice you had dropped the letter on your way out, that’s exactly when he decided to persuade his friends to stay. he didn’t mind lying or spending christmas at the school, he just wanted to see the pretty girl smile again.

you met the targaryens on christmas day your second year at boarding school when they were some of the few students who stayed too, and it was one of the best thing that ever happened in your life.

you fell in love with aemond targaryen on christmas day your second year at boarding school, though at that time you didn’t know and refused to accept it until fifth year.

you two fell into a routine in which you were a walking mess and he was right there next you ready to help you, or be a mess with you. always making sure you eat all your meals after he saw how on fourth year you stopped going to breakfast choosing to go straight to classes and how you always stayed at the library until there was no one left, so you were free to go to your dorm without worried glances from your friends. that was until you came down from the girls dormitories one morning, knowing everyone was at the great hall, everyone except aemond who was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs with an apple and a juice box in his right hand, and a shy smile on his face. always making sure you understood everything your professors said. always waiting for you after one particular class you two did not share once he witnessed some girls being mean to you. and you were always happy to lie next to him when he was feeling grouchy and scared, giving him comforting words and tracing the scar on his face, making him hide under his pillow with blushed cheeks; he looked after you and you looked after him, that’s your friendship. you always tried to convince yourself it was just a friend worrying for a friend, when in fact you were head over heels in love with the boy.

there have been a few occasions where all you wanted to do was tell him how much you love him; a lot more than a best friend should love her best friend. but every time you decided to finally do it, still afraid you would ruin the friendship but unable to hide how much you were feeling, something that would leave you with scattered pieces of your heart in your hands happened. because with each passing year while the feeling inside of you grew, and it grew and it grew, aemond showed you he didn’t feel the same way. and you knew he never did it on purpose, how could he if he didn’t know you were in love with him while he snogged different girls, running to talk to you about it and breaking your heart. you didn’t think you’d hate lying so much, but every time he sought advice from you, you hated every word that came out of your mouth, you hated the forced smile on your face, you hated how your eyes welled up with tears when he told you alys rivers stopped him after classes to tell him how handsome he looked that day, batting her eyelashes then coyly hiding behind her books. you hate how your chest physically aches when there is a party in the common hall because it means you’d have to see him flirt with a different girl all night. and that’s exactly why you stopped going to parties, giving a different excuse every time someone asked.

so you convinced yourself that everything you could ever have from aemond is his everlasting friendship. and that is better than not having aemond at all.

your walk comes to a stop when you see your friends sitting in the grass at the rugby pitch, in the distance cregan is giving his team a talk before the game, looking rather annoyed.

“cregan’s going to kill you if you don’t take this game seriously.” you say looking at your raven-haired friend, tossing your bag and sitting next to helaena. at this, jace throws you a half-eaten chocolate before taking his things and jogging to his friend.

“where were you?” baela asks, titling her head.

“professor gerardys wanted help with something, i said yes for a few extra points.” you shrug, bringing the chocolate to your mouth while looking around. instant regret crosses your features at the sight of your best friend sitting a few meters away with a bunch of people, his arm around alys river’s shoulders.

luke follows your gaze. “it looks like she finally took the courage to ask him out.”

“she asked him out!?” your voice comes out a little too loud for your liking and you really don’t like the look of pity that comes into your girl friends eyes. “well, it was about damn time.” you chuckle, though your friends know the reality behind those words.

“you coming tonight?” helaena asks, changing the subject and rubbing your arms, but looking straight ahead to baela, who is making fun of something luke said. “i think it’ll make you feel better,” her smile is pleading. “y´know you need it, forget the books for one night.”

you look at aemond one more time. “i think i deserve it.”

you are laughing as baela explains to two boys how jace was the one who helped win the match. “no, no! you don’t understand how important it is that jace did that,” she exclaims. “if he had gone to the left, then we wouldn’t be here.” the silver-haired shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink.

“i think they get it, baels.” you roll your eyes, rubbing shoulders with her. “don’t you, boys?” they nod eagerly, hiding their faces behind the cups filled with liquor.

your conversation is interrupted by someone leaning against the wall next to you. “hey, you.” aemond speaks after a moment of silence. “i didn’t think you’d be coming.”

“if you want i can go back to my dorm.” you mumble, trying to avoid his gaze. you know you shouldn’t be so cold with him, after all he’s done nothing to have you reacting this way, at least not something he’s aware of.

“that’s not what i said.” you’re not looking at him but you can sense the frown on his face. “i’m happy you’re here, i can’t remember when was the last time we party together.”

“well, i’m here now.” you clear your throat. “were you with alys rivers today?” you definitely shouldn’t have asked, you don’t even want to talk about it. you would rather hear about how jace is the best player on his team than to hear about how the older girl is stealing your best friend’s heart when you wish you were her. you want your heart to stop hurting and your mind to stop creating scenarios in which it is you who’s feeling the warm emanating from his body, the owner of his laugh… his heart.

“you saw us?” he doesn’t sound surprised.

“s’not like you two were being quiet.” you shrug, taking a sip of your beer.

“we all saw you.” baela explains, interrupting the conversation in your favor. “are you two like… together?” she asks what’s been going through your mind all day but were too afraid to ask.

aemond goes silent and all the blood leaves your face. that’s it, this is the final confirmation you needed to let aemond go—not like he was yours to lose—and you don’t want to hear it. your heart has been crushed so many times through the years you don’t think you could handle it one more time.

you straighten your shoulders and smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “if you’ll excuse me.” you try to fight the feeling that has settled in your belly, pushing away the pain in your chest, but it gets harder every second. you would think time would make it easier.

you try to hide the sound of your heart breaking by walking away, but aemond is having none of it. he grabs your wrist and you’re forced to stay right where you are. but you’re afraid. you fear that the longer you spend with aemond, the more emotionally unstable you become, eventually exposing yourself and your true feelings.

baela excuses herself, leaving you and your best friend alone, though the common hall is full, it feels like it is just the two of you.

“are you feeling alright?” he asks, confused. “you want me to go to the infirmary again? i’m sure they will ha—”

“jus’ stop it!” you cut him off, pushing him away.

he whispers your name. “i’m just trying to—”

“i didn’t ask you.”

“well, ouch.” aemond takes a step back, looking at you like you have two heads coming out of your body. “i know you didn’t ask me, but i want to.”

“m’not your fucking problem.” you mutter bitterly to yourself, but he hears it.

“did i do something to upset you?” he asks, genuinely worried. you can see the gears moving inside his head, like he’s really trying to remember what did he do.

you know you’re acting this way guided by your feelings and aemond has nothing, but everything actually, to do with it.

you take a deep breath. “i’m sorry, i’m not feeling well today.” you shake your head, taking two careful steps towards him. “you did nothing. i just need to lay down, i’ll see you in the morning.” you assure him with a smile.

but again, he’s grabbing your wrist before you can walk away. “i can go up with you.”

“you should worry about your girlfriend.” you nod, looking over his shoulder at alys rivers, who’s not even trying to hide the scowl on her face.

he doesn’t even look. “but you need me.”

he doesn’t deny it.

aemond doesn’t deny she’s his girlfriend.

“i don’t need you.” you get out of his grip and he doesn’t stop you.

once you are out of sight, you let all the tears fall.

you don’t know what time it is, but you still hear the music echoing. sighing, you roll on your back ready to go back to sleep when you hear what woke you up again. you can barely hear the thud coming from outside the dorm and the first thing that comes into your mind is that one of the girls is trying to open the door but is too drunk to do it, so you get out of bed.

there is, indeed, someone drunk behind the door. but this person has silver hair and blue eyes that, you are sure, look into your soul.

you suddenly remember you cried yourself to sleep and if he weren’t too drunk he’d notice how red your eyes are.

“what are you doing here, aemond?” you ask, helping him to his feet and inside your dorm.

“why do you hate me so much?” he drags the words, and you can smell the whisky every time he opens his mouth.

“i don’t hate you, silly.” you couldn’t help but laugh, carrying him to your bed. “maybe i do hate you a little bit right now. how much did you drink?”

“don’t know, lost the count.” he smiles while looking at you. “would you lay down with me?”

“okay, jus’ let me take off your shoes.” he keeps staring at you while you help him get rid of his jacket and shoes, he even smiles every time you make eye contact.

once you’re lying on your bed again, aemond turns to you. “why were you crying?” it doesn’t surprise you, really, he’s always been extra observant.

“i had a bad migraine.” you shrug, avoiding his gaze. but his slender fingers on your chin make you look directly at him. you try to steady your heart, pounding in your chest so hard you know he can hear it.

“yea’ right.” aemond mocks you. “after that pill i gave you this morning there’s no way you still had it.”

“maybe it wasn’t as effective as you thought.”

“would you stop for a second?” he grimaces, bringing his hands to his temple. “i can’t think straight and you already have my mind going in circles.”

“what does that mean?”

he sighs, caressing your cheek. “you don’t even notice.”

“notice what?” you ask, confused. he’s drunk and talking nonsense, and having him so close to you isn’t helping.

“that i’m—” he whispers, not breaking eye contact, air tick between the two of you. a part of you hopes his next words are the ones you were dying to hear for so long. you also hope you’re not dreaming when you see him lower his gaze to your lips. you’re extra aware of the proximity, you feel his breath on your face, combination of alcohol, cigarettes and just aemond. he parts his lips and you instantly close your eyes. “m’going to be sick.”

“what?” you open your eyes only to miss his warmth.

aemond rushes to the bathroom, face pale. you know he’s throwing up before you even get out of bed, and it doesn’t take long for you to be by his side.

aemond whines when you try to get closer, a wet cloth in hand. “don´t.”

“i’ll always hold your hand, aem.” you whisper, reminding him of the words he’s said to you a bunch of times. when you get closer again he doesn’t say anything and just lets you do your thing. “this is goin’ to make you feel better.” you say quietly, filling a glass of water and kneeling beside him.

aemond groans, resting against the wall behind him. you do the same. “you know,” he turns his head to you. “you are really, really pretty.”

your cheeks go red immediately and you know aemond notices that too, so you try to look somewhere else but his hands on your jaw don’t let you. and so you find yourself looking straight into his blue eyes, full of something you can’t figure it out. but he stares at you for a long time, or maybe it's just seconds, but you feel like he spends hours smiling at you with his eyes slightly closed, like you’re going to vanish if he stops and leave him there on the bathroom floor feeling pathetic.

“and you are really, really drunk.” your voice is barely a whisper, still looking at him.

“you don’t believe me? you don’t believe me.” he shakes his head, the smile growing. “you’re so oblivious.”

“m’not!” you complain, pulling his hand away.

you really don’t know what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t need to know that. he also does not need to know you’re feeling those familiar butterflies in your belly, the ones that appeared the first time he held your hand, leaving your entire body tingling.

“i should kiss you right now to see how oblivious you are after.” aemond says casually, as if he didn’t just say what you think he did.

“wh—what?” this time your eyes are fix on the bathroom floor; the tiles are more interesting than his eyes. oh but you know if you look at him again you’ll be completely lost. you know he’s drunk and saying things he doesn’t really feel because he doesn’t feel that way about you, right? suddenly, your eyes are on him again. “don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“but i mean it.” his eyes dart to your lips. when he looks up again, he realizes he’s been caught. “do you want to kiss me, sweet girl?” aemond moves closer, his face inches away from yours. of course you want to kiss him, you’ve been dreaming of it for years, and even in those dreams, it didn’t feel this surreal.

“why don’t you ask me again when you’re sober?” you shake your head, a smile making its way on your face. “and your breath stinks, by the way.”

aemond laughs, resting his head on your shoulder. your heart skips a beat because he doesn’t say anything, and when you are going to speak again not knowing exactly what to say but wanting to hear something from him, anything that could tell you how he really feels, aegon appears in the doorway.

“hey, lover boy, it’s time to go.” he kneels in front of you and his brother just groans, hiding behind your hair and inhaling your perfume.

“you smell nice.” the smile on his face is one of drunkenness.

and when you witness how aemond can barely stand, your heart breaks into tiny pieces. maybe aemond was just drunk, maybe he just wanted to kiss you because you were the only girl with him. you weren’t aemond’s first choice; you were his last.

you wake up feeling a little optimistic. you don’t know if aemond really meant what he said, but you are ready to face whatever his words may be, even if those words break your heart.

none of your friends are in the common hall when you go downstairs and, in all honesty, you don’t want to look for them, there's only one person in your head and you’re going to find him before all bravery leaves your body.

you are smiling widely when you step into the great hall, familiar faces sitting at the table but not the one you’re looking for. your smile falters when you get closer to your friends, all of them laughing and talking about the party last night. maybe he’s still asleep, maybe you’ll grab some food and bring it to him. maybe you could do that if he wasn’t sitting next to alys rivers at her table.

tears fill your eyes as you hear helaena’s voice calling your name, but all your attention is on aemond and the smile adorning his face. all you can hear before running out of there it’s his laugh. of course he wasn’t thinking straight, what were you thinking? he’s so charming and handsome, always helping others, always smelling good, always flirting with pretty girls in the hallways, always enjoying his popularity. he’s tall, agile and strong, smart; of course he needs a girl that can match with him, his needs. and you’re not that girl. you’re not popular, most of the time you are running late to classes, asking help from others, you don’t do sports and it shows, it’s a miracle if a boy flirts with you and if a boy does it, most of the time it’s because him or his friends want you to introduce them to your girlfriends. you are not that pretty either, you have bags under your eyes, you barely do make up and your hair is a disaster. what could aemond targaryen possibly like about you?

you barely make it to the stairs leading to your dorm when a hand grabs your wrist, heavy breathing behind you. “wait!”

“sorry, i forgot something,” you say quickly, wiping your tears with your free hand. “i’ll be back in a minute.”

he lets you go and you run to the stairs, before his words stop you. “i was really drunk las’ night, wasn’t i?”

“yes.” you say with a bitter laugh.

“shit— i think i threw up in your bathroom.” he laughs, and you hear his footsteps getting closer. “sorry ‘bout that.”

“it’s okay.” you smile even though he can’t see your face. “i need to grab this thing before class, you know how profess—“

“i’m sober now.”

your heart stops beating, everything around you stops. did you hear him right? you don’t dare to move, you can’t.

what could aemond targaryen possibly like about you?

“but i saw you with al—”

“she’s barely a friend.” he explains. “i don’t know if what you said last night was because you didn’t know how to reject me,” he starts saying, moving closer and closer to you. “but i’m here anyway. i can’t hide what i feel inside me anymore.” and that’s when you turn around.

he’s a few feet away, fidgeting with his hands and looking at you with that same something you saw last night.

“i’ve loved you since the first time i saw you. when—”

“when we met on second year.” you interrupt him, cocking your head to the side. of course you remember, because the letter you got from your parents that year was the reason your whole friendship started. you just can’t believe what you are hearing. now the tears streaming down your face have a different reason, one you did not think was possible.

he smiles sheepishly at you. “no—that was not the first time i saw you.” he scratches the back of his neck, meeting your gaze. “i saw you the first day of school, on the train. you were sitting next to baela and i remember thinking ‘god, i’ve never seen such a beautiful girl before’” he takes one step forward. “i remember thinking i was seeing an angel.” he chuckles, his face red and eyes glistening. “i’m seeing one right now.”

you can’t see due to the cascade coming from your eyes, you try to wipe it, only for them to be replaced with more tears. you didn’t think you could smile this big, to feel this happy, to feel this loved.

“i remember seeing you in classes, in the hallways… always so pretty.” he takes another step, this time only looking at your eyes, not fidgeting with his hands, not uncertainty in his words. “i was a silly, silly boy back then and didn’t know how to talk to you, so when on second year you got that letter,” he looks shy, his eyes meeting the floor. “i took it and convinced the boys to persuade our parents to stay. i wanted to stay with you, i wanted to see you smile again and—when i saw the smile you gave me, it was all worth it.”

you rush to him, face wet and blushed, and a heart beating so fast you think it’s going to explode. locking your arms around his neck, you softly press your lips to his in a kiss full of unspoken words, full of passion and love and tenderness. you are both crying and it’s wet, but oh so perfect.

“you love me?” you ask, smiling with teeth. you have never been so happy before, you have never felt so safe in someone’s arms as you feel in aemond’s; you have never felt so in love with aemond targaryen as you feel right now.

“i am hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you.” aemond murmurs, lips curled in a grin, arms around your waist making you feel those butterflies you’ve experienced through the years once more.

“and i am hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you, aemond targaryen.” you say softly, caressing his cheek. a new set of tears already falling down your face. “always have been.”

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd x you

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starkstruck27 · 5 months ago

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Day 2 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it , and I can't wait for you all to read my entry! Prompt: Trope Subversion - Arranged Marriage Title: I Don't Like Your Girlfriend Word Count: 4578 words TWs: Slight Homophobia

“Peter, you’re not going to solve whatever problem you’re trying to solve by pacing around all night, now sit down and eat your dinner before you starve!” Margie Harrington said to her husband. He’d been acting like this for days, ever since their son Steve had come for a visit and announced his big news.

He and his partner had taken a vacation to California a couple of weeks ago, since that’s where his partner was from, and while they were there, they had gotten married. When they came back to Hawkins afterwards, they only told a select few people, and while his partner, Billy, didn’t want to tell his parents, Steve had decided to tell his. After all, it was big news, and he said he didn’t feel right keeping it from them.

They had hidden it well, but his parents weren’t exactly thrilled about the match. Peter was a lawyer, and an important one at that, so he was obviously concerned about the family’s reputation, and to have his son marry someone from the wrong side of the tracks, especially when that someone was a man, it just didn’t look very good. Margie was just happy Steve was happy, but she also knew that eventually, Peter would try to get them to split, and she didn’t know how easily Billy would fold. She didn’t want Steve’s heart to be broken, and she didn’t want that to cause a rift between him and his father, either, but right now, there was nothing she could do.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Marjorie,” Peter called back, waving her off without even looking up. His wife sighed, but she walked away, knowing that it’d be easier to talk him out of whatever he was planning once they both knew what it was than to try and interrupt his thinking process and make him all frustrated. She went into the dining room and started eating by herself, rolling her eyes as she could hear her husband continuing to pace upstairs.

Finally, after Margie had almost finished her meal, Peter came downstairs, a grin on his face like he had come up with a perfect plan, and started eating his cold dinner without so much as a grimace.

“Did you solve your problem, dear?” Margie asked as she cleared her plate, shaking her head a little as her husband hummed and wiped his mouth on a napkin.

“I believe I did, actually,” he said, taking a sip of wine before asking, “Stephen is twenty three now, correct?”

“Yes, why?” Margie asked, rejoining the table with her own glass of wine.

“Well, he’s just about that age to need to be on his own insurance, so here’s what we’ll do. I’ll call him and invite him to lunch so that he can sign himself off of our insurance, right? But in reality, I’ll write up divorce papers and that’ll be what he signs. I’ll figure out a way to get his friend to sign them too, and then when they inevitably split up, there’s no need for it to be a big thing, they’ll already be divorced and nobody will have to know about them being married in the first place,” Peter said, continuing to eat as he sat up, just as proud as a peacock.

“And what if they don’t end up splitting?” Margie asked.

“Then they don’t have to know. Stephen doesn’t know to look twice at whatever documents I tell him to sign, so it won’t matter! What do you think?”

“I think that you’re taking this a bit too far, Peter. There’s a lot of things you’re not considering.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, they’re in love, at least enough to have been together since they left high school and to then get married. And another thing, what if Billy is smart enough to look twice when you make him sign? I think you’re blowing this all out of proportion.”

“Marjorie,” Peter sighed, “I have to do something. I cannot just allow Stephen to do whatever he wants and ruin his life, our lives, and the life of his friend. And if I have to arrange their divorce for them myself, then that’s what I have to do.”

“Well, just don’t expect me to be involved,” Margie said, standing up and leaving the table as she added, “I might not agree with the way they went about things, but if Stephen is happy, then that’s all that matters to me. If this is really a mistake, he’ll figure that out eventually, but if not, I’m not going to play a part in ruining his happiness just for our own vanity, and that’s final.”

“Fine, you don’t have to be involved, but just don’t spill the beans on me, alright? I’ll do everything myself,” Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes. Whether his wife would help him or not, he was going to go through with this. His son just could not stay married to that hoodlum, and that’s all there was to it.

The next day, Peter was at his office and, in between meetings, found time to write up the divorce papers for his son. He made sure to dot every I and cross every T, and by closing time, he had everything in order. The only thing left was to call Steve and set up a lunch date. He dialed the number Steve had given them for the phone at his new place, but after a few rings, it went straight to the answering machine.

“Hey, this is Steve,” the machine said in his son’s voice, and then in another that he vaguely recognized, “And Billy.” It went back to Steve’s voice and continued, “We’re either not home right now or we’re avoiding your call. Either way, the beep’s coming, you know what to do.” The message was accentuated by the sounds of giggling and a few snickers, and Peter felt his eye twitch a little as he listened for the beep.

“Hello, Stephen, it’s your father,” he said when it came, “I was just calling to see if you would be willing to come over next weekend and have lunch with your mother and I. I, uh, have some papers I need you to sign. Nothing major, just a few forms to get you off of our insurance now that you’re a married man. Anyway, get back to me as soon as you can and we’ll hash out the details. Have a nice evening, son.”

Steve had been busy with the dishes when the call had come in, but he heard the message as his dad left it, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Billy had returned from switching the laundry just as the message ended, and he saw Steve nearly falling into the sink as he laughed, so he walked over to help dry and asked, “Henderson or Buckley?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, finally getting over the laughing fit.

“There’s only three people in the world that can make you laugh that hard, but I was in the other room, so that means either Henderson or Buckley called and left a message. C’mon, which one was it and what did they say that almost had you drowning in dishwater?”

“Actually, it wasn’t either of them,” Steve said, “It was my dad. He wants to have lunch with me next week. He needs me to sign something so I’m no longer on his and my mom’s insurance.”

“And that’s funny… why?” Billy asked.

“Because, I did all that months ago when I moved out of their house. I guess he never read the papers I had him sign, because apparently, he doesn’t know that, which means he’s planning something. He’s got some sort of scheme he thinks I’m gonna fall for, and I’ll bet my entire trust fund that it has something to do with splitting us up.”

“Really? Why the hell would your dad try and do something like that?”

“Because it’s not good for his image if I’m married to a man from the wrong side of the tracks. That’s gotta be his angle, because I don’t see any other reason he’d be this concerned about it. But anyway, the reason I was laughing is because he thinks it’s gonna work. He thinks I’d sign my soul away to the devil if he just asked me to, but I know better than to sign something without reading it first. But, I think I’ve got an idea.”

“For what?”

“Well, he thinks I’ll sign whatever he wants, so I’m going to, but not the way he wants.”

“Okay, I’m intrigued, what’s your plan?” Billy asked, knowing that sparkle in Steve’s eyes, and knowing that it meant mischief.

“So, we’ll go to that lunch, and you’ll wear your best outfit, and we’ll bring Max along for moral support, and then, we’ll sign the papers,” Steve explained, his smile downright wicked.

“And how is that not doing exactly what your dad wants?”

“You’ll see,” Steve said, then added with a wink, “Oh, and I get to put your outfit together. We have to make sure you impress the folks after all.”

The next weekend came quickly, and everything was in place on both sides of the equation. Peter had the papers all ready on his desk, a pen already set on top of them, and Margie had made a fantastic lunch, one fit for kings. Steve had dressed Billy in his best outfit, a mesh crop top with simply sinful tight leather pants that showed off most of his tattoos and piercings, and they had picked Max up on their way to the house, making sure she was in her rattiest clothes, had at least four band-aids visible on her face and hands, and had her skateboard and walkman in hand. It took everything he had to keep a straight face as they walked up to the door, but he managed to keep it together and put on a neutral expression as they rang the doorbell, waiting for his mom to answer.

She had been clued in to their plan when Steve called her to tell her they’d be at the lunch, and she was all set to act accordingly with whatever they threw at her. She opened the door, smiling as she greeted them, and pretended to hide a grimace as she saw Steve walking in with Billy’s hand in his. Max didn’t say a word as she walked into the house after them, her headphones on as she walked past Margie without even a handshake, just as Peter walked in.

“And who is this young lady?” Margie asked, biting her nail as Max walked a bit too close to the living room carpet with her muddy shoes on.

“This is Maxine, we’re fostering her. Y’know, there are just so many poor kids who grow up in foster care, so we decided to do our part and try to give her a good home. The older ones tend to just age out since everybody wants the babies and toddlers, so we figured we’d give Maxine a try and see how things go,” Steve explained, smiling until Max ripped her headphones off and gave him the dirtiest look she could muster.

“It’s Max. If you can’t get it right, then don’t say it at all!” She snapped, dropping her board on the hardwood floor and starting to skate around the kitchen.

“Max, honey, we talked about this. No skating in the house,” Steve said, and Max just rolled her eyes.

“Then can I go outside?” She asked, and Steve sighed.

“Sure, but either Billy or I has to go with you,” he said, then leaned over and stage-whispered to his parents, “If we let her go by herself, she tries to run away.”

“Ugh, I hate you!” Max stomped her foot, crossing her arms as she put her headphones back on and stormed over to the couch.

“It’s a work in progress,” Steve said, following the girl’s lead and heading to the living room to sit while lunch was being finished. He relished in the barely hidden look of discomfort and disbelief on his dad’s face as he said it, having to pinch himself to keep from laughing.

“So, uh, Billy, how has married life been treating you?” Margie asked, slapping on a fake smile and pretending to be uncomfortable as she sat down across from him, Steve and Max.

“Oh, it’s great. Your son is one fantastic piece of tail, and I get to have him whenever I want!” Billy said, reaching over and pinching Steve’s ass to accentuate his point. Steve just giggled and swatted his hand away, and everyone else just laughed uncomfortably.

“And, um, what is it that you do for work?” Peter asked, and it looked like he was near a heart attack as Billy kicked his feet up on the coffee table.

“I’m currently unemployed, but I know a guy who’s been hooking me up with some decent work in sales. It’s a pretty loose gig, but it brings in a lotta dough, and I get a twenty percent employee discount, so,” he said, shrugging as he propped his arms up behind his head.

“And what exactly is it that you sell?” Peter asked, his head starting to pound.

“Oh, y’know, party supplies. Amps, sweet stuff, disco biscuits, special K, electric kool-aid, some bud, you get the gist,” Billy said, shrugging again. He tried not to lose it as Steve’s parents both looked confused at first, but then quickly realized what he was talking about and nodded as if they still didn’t get it. It was hilarious watching his dad try to keep his cool as he put his arm around Steve, and it only became funnier as he had to excuse himself for a moment to ‘check on lunch’ as Steve cuddled into Billy’s side.

“Can I go upstairs and see your old room?” Max asked, sitting up a little on the couch and speaking loud enough so Peter would hear it as he left for the kitchen.

“Sure, go ahead,” Steve said, “It’s just up the stairs and to the right.”

Max got up from the couch then and bounded up the stairs as quickly as she could, leaving Steve and Billy alone with Margie.

“So, you think dad suspects anything?” Steve asked his mother quietly.

“No, I think you’ve got him right where you want him. And it was a great idea bringing Max into this, she’s a wonderful actress. I think if the three of you keep it up, I’ll be able to convince him to leave you be once it’s all said and done,” Margie said with a wink.

“Good. Oh, also, we had another idea that we wanted to run past you first before we did it. Would you be okay if Max threw some food at you then?” Steve asked, the mischievous glint playing in his eyes.

“We’d have her wait until it cools down a little, of course, but after she does, you can say you need a moment and excuse yourself, and that’ll give your husband the perfect opportunity to have us sign those papers,” Billy added, smiling along with Steve.

“As long as she doesn’t throw a whole chicken breast at me, I’m fine with that,” Margie said, shaking her head as she laughed a little. “Oh, wait, I think I hear your father coming back, everybody quit smiling!”

As Peter walked back into the room, he found everyone in the same position he’d left them in, chatting about the weather. As he sat down, he asked, “What happened to the young lady?”

“She wanted to check out my old room, so she’s upstairs,” Steve said, and just then, Max came barrelling back down the stairs, holding something in her hands.

“Oh my God! This is so funny, check out what I found!” She said, waving around a porn magazine.

“Max! Where did you find that?!” Steve nearly shouted, pretending to be panicked as he tore the magazine out of her hands, trying to hide it.

“Under your bed. Gotta say, Steve, you’ve really got a type,” she laughed, holding up one of the pages that had fallen onto the floor. It showed a blonde woman dressed all in leather that had a brunette man tied up on the ground in front of her, and once everyone had gotten an eyeful of it, Steve grabbed that, too, crumpling all of it up and taking it to the kitchen to throw it away. Max continued to laugh, and Billy had to chuckle a little, too. They’d planned this gag along with everything else, but the way Steve’s face went red just like his parents’, it was just too funny.

“Um, I-I think lunch should be ready by now, why don’t we head in to the table?” Margie said, her face still flushed as she led the way to the table. It was set with the semi-fancy silverware and china, and Max’s eyes grew wide as she walked in. As soon as they were all seated, she waited until she thought Steve’s dad would be the only one looking, and she swiped the crystal salt and pepper shakers off the table, stuffing them in her pocket.

“Now, young lady, you are a guest in our home, and we are being very kind to you. You should not be repaying that kindness by taking our things and acting the way you are,” he said, giving her a hard stare.

“I didn’t do anything,” Max said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked as he, Billy and Margie walked in, carrying the food dishes.

“I didn’t do anything!” Max was quick to defend, glaring at Peter.

“Yes, she did. She took the crystal salt shakers and stuffed them in her pockets,” Peter countered, and Steve looked at Max disappointedly, shaking his head.

“Max, we talked about this. You don’t take things that don’t belong to you, now put them back,” he said, putting his hands on his hips as Max groaned, but put the shakers back on the table. Steve glanced at his dad after the whole exchange, and was pleased to see his eye starting to twitch again, an obvious sign that they were getting to him.

After that, they all sat down and started serving themselves. Margie had made chicken with broccoli and potatoes, and for most of the meal nothing major happened. This was mostly due to the fact that nobody said a word as they ate, any and all conversation topics seeming loaded with too much opportunity for awkward tension, so nobody bothered to try. That is, until Steve saw that Max was eating everything but her broccoli.

“Max, honey, you have to eat your broccoli, or else we won’t get ice cream on the way home,” he said, nodding at her plate, but she only scoffed.

“I’m fifteen, Steve, not five, and I don’t like broccoli,” she said, rolling her eyes yet again.

“Just eat it, alright?” Billy backed Steve up, making his tone as sharp as possible until it was practically a growl.

“No,” she said, “I don’t like broccoli.”

“Just fucking eat it, Max. I’m not gonna say it again!” Billy raised his voice at her.

“I won’t say it again, either! I. Don’t. Like. Broccoli!” She raised her voice right back, picking up a couple of florets in each hand and throwing them, some hitting Billy and Steve, but the majority going off to the sides and hitting his parents. After her tantrum, Max stood up from the table quickly and stormed off to another room, her headphones back on her ears as she hid in the living room. Billy stood up as if he were going to go after her, but Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, telling him to give her a few minutes to cool off before they both said something they’d regret.

Meanwhile, his parents just sat there, both in disbelief at the girl’s horrible behavior and the way Billy had tried to handle it. For a minute, it seemed like nobody was going to move, as if everything had been stopped by the tantrum and now somebody had to restart time. Finally, Margie was able to get into character and stood up, still pretending to be in shock as she muttered, “I-I need a moment,” and left the room in a rush.

“Stephen, why don’t you come into my office and sign those papers now, and then I think you all should leave, your mother seemed terribly upset,” Peter said, standing and looking at Steve in a way that told him he didn’t really have any choice in the matter. Steve just nodded and said okay, and he and Billy followed his father to his office.

“It’s an insurance thing, so will you need just my signature or both of ours?” Steve asked as they got into the office, glancing at the papers on the desk.

“Both of you will need to sign it,” Peter said, flipping to the right page and holding out a pen to Steve. He signed, then passed the pen to Billy, who signed as well.

“There, we should be all squared away, then,” Steve said, handing the papers back to his dad. “Sorry about all this, dad, this was supposed to be a nice afternoon. Tell mom I said sorry too, okay?”

“I will, son. Have a nice evening,” he replied, the first genuine smile he’d had all day coming to his face.

Steve led the way back to the living room so that they could collect Max before leaving, making sure his dad was well out of earshot before he started to laugh quietly. They got Max and quickly left, saying a quick goodbye to Margie when they saw her on her way to the office, asking her to give them a five minute head start before she went in there. She agreed and hugged them all before they left, waiting until she heard their car rumbling down the road before she went to find her husband.

“So what was it that he tried to get you guys to sign?” Max asked from the backseat, taking some of the band-aids off her face.

“Divorce papers,” Billy grinned wickedly, “But we didn’t actually sign them, don’t worry.”

“Nope. Poor dad’s in for a shock once he finally takes a closer look at those things,” Steve agreed, winking. “Now, let’s celebrate! Who wants ice cream?”

Back at the Harrington house, Margie had just entered the office, schooling her features to be neutral before she knocked on the door frame and walked in.

“So, I think we can agree that the next order of business is making sure they don’t adopt that horrible little girl, am I right?” Peter said as Margie sat down, kicking his feet up on his desk as he filed the documents away in a folder.

“I take it they signed, then?” Margie asked, biting her lip so as not to break the facade just yet.

“Sure did, see for yourself!” Peter said, flipping to the right page and holding the paper out to his wife. She couldn’t help it anymore, she let out a little giggle and said, “Um, dear, you might want to take a second look at those signatures.”

Peter looked at his wife like she lost her mind, and quickly whipped the paper around to see what she was talking about. His mouth went dry as he saw it, and his eye started twitching again, because instead of two names on the signature lines, he saw two parts of a sentence. In the neatest cursive he’d ever seen, the phrase “Suck a Lemon, Old Man!” was written on the lines.

As her husband started completely dumbfounded at the paper, Margie finally lost it, bursting into a fit of laughter that didn’t end until the papers Peter had been holding were halfway through the shredder.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing about, Marjorie! This is a disaster! This whole damn afternoon was a disaster!” He ranted, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Now I’ll have to write up a whole new set of papers and figure out some other plan!”

“Oh, come off it, Peter!” Margie finally calmed down enough to say, “This afternoon was a disaster by design! Stephen knows you, he knew that there was more to this, especially since he got his insurance in order months ago. They planned this whole thing to show you that you’re upset about nothing.”

“You call what happened out there nothing?!” Peter asked, completely exasperated.

“No, that was absolutely something. That was the worst case scenario. But that’s not how their relationship actually is. They wanted to show you that for as worried as you are about their relationship, it could be a hell of a lot worse. It was all acting. Max isn’t a foster kid, she’s Billy’s little sister, and they asked her to help them today by acting as badly as she could so you could see that at least they don’t have a juvenile delinquent they’re trying to raise. Steve dressed Billy up like that and had him say all those things about dealing drugs and such so that you can now think that at least our son didn’t marry an unemployed drug dealer with anger issues. It was all just like one big prank.”

“And you were in on it?!”

“Yes, I was.”

“Why would you do that to me?!”

“Because they asked me for help and I gave it to them,” Margie said, sighing, “Look, Peter, I realized a while ago that if I try and control everything about Steve’s life, not only would I never win, but I’d end up losing him in the end. He’d get fed up with me and if it hit a certain point, he’d cut me out completely. So instead of trying to control him, I’ve decided to support him instead. He’s made a lot of mistakes and he’s going to make more, but rather than try and prevent them from ever happening, I’m going to help him through those mistakes so he learns from them. And I don’t think he’s making a mistake with Billy. They’re in love, just like we’re in love, and they deserve to be in love without someone else controlling their every move. And if, heaven forbid, they ever do realize it’s a mistake, then I’d rather be here to offer Steve a shoulder to cry on than to laugh and say ‘I told you so’, wouldn’t you?”

Peter looked lost in thought as Margie’s words sank in, and finally, he sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I guess I should just be glad that nothing they said today was real, huh?”

“Now you’re getting it,” Margie smiled softly, taking her husband’s hand and kissing it gently.

“And I suppose I should call them tomorrow and apologize, shouldn’t I?”

“I think that would be best. Then maybe next weekend we can have a real lunch and we can all get to know each other the right way, hm?”

“Fine. But if that girl decides to tag along again, make sure that broccoli is not on the menu,” Peter said, making them both laugh.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #max mayfield #harringrove flip/reverse

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lavendarlily · 1 year ago

Text

ectoberhaunt day 11: calm @ectoberhaunt

the one where i write a ghost nip fic

words: 2744

read it on ao3

cw: underage drug use yes and no?

tucker and sam just want danny to take a night off.

this is so cringe sorry

Being strung out was becoming Danny’s default these days.

For whatever reason, ghost activity had jumped up significantly in the last week. Even if he wanted to investigate it further, he couldn’t, because there were just that many ghosts to deal with.

Saturday evening rolled around, and to Danny’s absolute shock, he’d been able to lay in bed undisturbed now for twenty minutes. He even considered risking it and finally taking a shower. It’d probably been a good three to four days since his last, and chasing after loose spirits tended to get one pretty sweaty.

Danny raised an arm and sniffed. Oof. Yeah, he needed to shower.

He walked across the hall to the bathroom and started the water. While he typically didn’t mind cold showers due to his body temperature, a hot one sounded like a blessing on his aching body.

Danny peeled off his clothes, and held back a groan. Jeez, he really needed a break. At this point he wasn’t sure if his healing was slowing down as a result of his tiredness, or the beatings were so constant that he never had enough time to heal before the next one.

Once he was clean (was it actually possible to have that much dirt under your fingernails?), Danny dared to put on an old hoodie and sweatpants that had been all but forgotten the last few weeks. Peak comfort. He wandered back to his bedroom, and lost all sense of peace from his shower when he found two people in his room that he was not expecting.

“Jesus! What are you guys doing here?” he yelped.

Sam and Tucker stared back at him with shocked expressions.

“What? Why are you looking at me like I’m the intruder?”

“Dude…look at yourself,” Tucker said in a low voice.

Danny looked down at the rest of his body. Where his hoodie and sweatpants were only a moment ago had been replaced by his hazmat suit, and his feet were now hovering a few inches above the ground.

He’d transformed to Phantom without even meaning to. Danny exhaled and closed his eyes slowly, then dropped his ghostly form.

“Shit guys, I’m so sorry. Everything going on lately has me a little jumpy.”

Tucker and Sam exchanged a look.

“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about. We’re worried that you aren’t taking care of yourself,” Sam began.

“And we’re not letting you get worse,” Tucker finished. He turned to fish something out of his backpack behind him, and held out a small vial to Danny, who looked at it questioningly.

Sam noticed his hesitance and explained, “It’s something we got from Frostbite. We reached out to him because we’ve been so concerned. He told us this would help you cool off, and you deserve a night of rest.”

Let it be known that Danny always appreciated his friends looking out for him. He knew he probably would’ve died-died the first week of having his ghost powers if they weren’t there. But this was something they didn’t understand.

“I can’t just leave the city unprotected,” he argued.

“We know that - which is why Jazz and your parents are patrolling tonight,” Tucker assured.

“Guys I really don’t think-”

“About yourself? Your well-being? Yeah, we noticed.”

The glare Sam received from Tucker prompted her to backtrack.

“We care a lot about you, Danny. But even heroes need a break.” She grabbed the small vial from Tucker and placed it in Danny’s hand. “It’s just one night.”

Danny looked at the small vial of…whatever it was…and back at his friends. Deep down, he knew they were right - between his parents and Jazz things would most likely be okay for the night. And if what he was holding was really supposed to help him chill…then maybe he could stop worrying about it altogether and just enjoy a night off.

He raised the vial to eye level and studied the contents. Inside was what seemed to be a glowling, finely ground substance, definitely ghostly in nature.

He squinted at it. “Do you guys even know what this is?”

They both shrugged. “Frostbite said it was a natural medicine. Other than that, he didn’t offer much,” Tucker explained.

“Do I…just eat it?” Danny asked.

Sam bit her lip. “What if you smoked it?” she cautiously suggested. Out of the three of them, Sam was the most adventurous in…exploring self-medication. Danny shied away from it, among other mind-altering substances, in fear of losing control of his ghost half, dreading it could result in a numerous amount of bad endings. While Tucker wasn’t opposed to it, he knew he was better off dead if his parents found out.

“I don’t know…,” Danny trailed off, as Sam already had repossessed the vial and began grabbing various items from her backpack. In a matter of seconds, Sam triumphantly held up a rolled piece of paper containing the contents of the vial. She held out a lighter in her other hand, and Danny hesitantly grabbed the paraphernalia.

When he didn’t make a move, Sam rolled her eyes and grabbed the cone from him, and placed it between his lips. Snatching the lighter, she struck a flame and held it to the end of what Danny decided to just call a joint.

“Now just take a gentle breath,” she coaxed.

Danny sucked in a shallow breath and immediately coughed at the discomfort in his throat, hunching over with his hands on his knees. Sam held the smoking paper away from him, and patted his back, giggling.

“You okay champ?” she laughed.

Danny glared up at her. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea.”

“Come on dude, you barely gave it a chance,” Tucker argued from the bed.

“I really don’t know how I feel about my friends peer pressuring me to do drugs,” he grumbled, righting himself. He nonetheless grabbed the joint back from Sam and stuck the paper between his lips.

“Danny, shut up and smoke the ghost weed.”

“It’s literally prescribed. Don’t be a pussy,” Tucker jeered.

If looks could kill, the one Danny sent to Tucker would’ve had him six feet under immediately. He turned to Sam and gave her nod, allowing her to once again strike the lighter. This time he felt better prepared for the sensation, sucking a small amount of smoke in and allowing it to sit in his lungs, before exhaling it out.

Sam gave him a devilish grin. “I’m so glad to have finally corrupted you.”

“This is different.”

She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything further on the matter, instead chastising him for letting the joint go out as she relit it again .

HIs two friends refused to do anything else until Danny had smoked a sufficient amount of what they decided to refer to as “ghost weed”, then decided to go downstairs and set up for a movie. Tucker went into the kitchen to make some popcorn while Sam stayed with Danny in the living room to pick out a movie.

“How about a nature documentary? This one just came out and it’s supposed to be amazing.” She scrolled through the different episodes and landed on one about African wildlife.

Danny was indifferent - he figured he’d probably end up asleep by the time the intro rolled; a nap on the couch was calling his name.

The trio settled in, and Sam pressed play.

Maybe ten minutes into the documentary, Danny felt a little buzz in his head and a numbness in his body.

Twenty minutes in, he felt a little delirious, but nothing more than that.

Thirty minutes in, he was laughing silently, but so hard that his body was shaking and tears were streaming down his face. Sam must’ve caught him from the corner of her eye, because she turned and asked, “Oh my god, are you okay Danny? What’s wrong?”

“Is he crying?” was Tucker’s response to his friend’s behavior.

Danny finally let out an audible laugh and pointed at the screen, which was currently showing two male giraffes fighting for dominance.

“They’re just- fucking look at them- fucking noodles just whacking- I can’t,” he stuttered between laughs, almost breathless.

Sam and Tucker exchanged a look as their friend completely unraveled before them.

Danny continued to lose it throughout the entire giraffe segment. The film then shifted and brought them to Madagascar, introducing the lemurs and their agility in the trees. Danny then began pointing at the TV with finger guns, providing “pew pew” noises as he pretended to shoot at the animals while they jumped from tree to tree on the screen. An ecto-ray came through from one of his “pews” and blasted a hole straight through the television. Danny’s eyes went wide before he fully lost it.

“DID YOU GUYS SEE THAT?” he cried as he rolled on the floor laughing. “I shot- I shot a hole through the TV oh my god guys this is the most ridiculous shit ever I can’t-”

He continued to laugh uncontrollably, holding his stomach as he laid on the floor.

“Oh, he’s high as fuck,” observed Tucker.

“Best to just let him get it out of his system,” Sam said. “As long as he’s not freaking out, I’m not concerned.”

“What do we do now? TV’s obviously busted.”

“I’M HUNGRY,” whined the voice from the floor.

“...Guess I’m ordering pizza then,” Sam replied, reaching for her phone and dialing up the local pizza place.

Danny climbed back up on the sofa, laying across the two. “What happened to the movie?” he pouted.

“Dude, you literally blasted a hole through the TV,” Tucker deadpanned.

“Nooooo it came like that,” Danny argued. “I wanna see more animals.”

“Sorry bud.”

Sam finished her call and returned to the two boys. “Pizza’s ordered - now what?” (this question was more directed at Tucker for obvious reasons).

Danny had slumped back down towards the floor - his upper half still on the sofa while his lower body hung off. “I’m hungryyyyy,” he whined again.

“Pizza should only take like twenty minutes,” Sam said.

“But I want it nowwww.”

Sam huffed, then stood, looking down at him. “Fine, let’s go to the kitchen and get you a snack.” She reached out her hand for him to take, and led him into the other room, Tucker in tow.

She sat him down at the table, and pulled her phone back out. Pulling up Tik Tok, she shoved the phone into Danny’s hands in hopes of keeping him distracted for the time being. The mish-mash of ten second music clips took over the kitchen while Sam explored the cabinets. In the fridge she found a bowl of grapes that she lazily slid in front of Danny, who was now completely enraptured in the social media before him.

“He’s like a toddler,” Tucker said. “And we’re literally babysitting him.”

“This is kinda what we wanted though? At least he’s got his mind off things. Just wish we didn’t have to literally drug him to get him to take a break,” Sam said, sitting and resting her chin on her fists. She added, “I don’t mind babysitting one night if it means he gets a night of rest.”

The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation.

“Must be the pizza,” she said, then stood up and went to answer the door. When she returned with the food, she expected to see the boys how she left them, but was greeted with a much stranger sight.

She hadn’t even been gone that long.

Danny’s seat was now empty. Instead, he had moved on to singing and dancing around the kitchen. The song Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! was now playing through the speakers of her phone. She glanced at Tucker, who was not so secretly recording their friend making the kitchen his stage.

Laughing, Sam set down the pizzas, and was immediately grabbed by Danny, who started twirling her around. He paused only to lift Tucker from his seat to join his dance party, which very quickly devolved into his two friends watching him with a mix of amusement and relief.

It’d been so long since they’d seen this side of him.

The song ended, earning a frown from Danny. He went to snatch the phone and replay it, but Sam intercepted.

“Hey, you wanted food, remember?” She reminded him, as she went to collect three plates and began serving out the pizza.

“Pizza? For me?” Danny looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he stared at the hot piece of greasy, cheesy goodness in front of him. He dug in, moans of pleasure escaping as he inhaled his slice.

Tucker scrunched his nose. “Dude. It’s just pizza. You’re eating it, not having sex with it.”

“Mmph it’s so good,” he replied through a mouthful. “I’m so horny for pizza.”

“Danny! ”

Once he was satiated, Danny slumped back into his seat, eyes closed and a small smile on his face. “I wanna go flying,” he said dreamily. “Flying sounds nice.”

“Not sure that’s such a good idea,” Tucker cautioned. Danny opened his eyes and looked at his friend annoyed.

“I want to fly,” he repeated stubbornly. Before Sam or Tucker could say anything more, he shifted and disappeared through the ceiling. The two scrambled from their seats and bolted towards the roof of the residence, hoping to catch their friend before he flew off to who knows where in his altered state of mind.

Once on the roof, they desperately looked in every direction for Danny to no avail. A sudden chill went up their spines, their only warning before a “BOO!” startled them from behind.

“Danny, what the hell!” Sam yelled, the ghost before them hysterically laughing.

“Get it guys? Because I’m a ghost? I totally got you!” he cried. His laughter slowed a little, a wave of realization washing over his face. He looked down at his hands and whispered. “I’m a ghost.” He returned his gaze to his friends.

“Why am I a ghost?” he asked softly.

Sam groaned internally and threw her head back - this was heading towards a freak out, if she knew any better. Tucker reached out towards him, sensing the same thing.

Danny backed away from the touch, his expression moving from confusion to sorrow.

His head was swirling and his thoughts hitting him like bullets he couldn't defend against. It was all coming at him so fast, circling his mind again and again. He was a ghost, he wasn’t human, he was a freak, who could love a freak?

“I’m a freak,” he whispered to no one in particular. While he was distracted by his own thoughts, Sam and Tucker leapt at their friend, trapping him in the middle of a hug. This time he didn’t fight their affection, and let them bring him towards the ground.

“You’re not a freak,” Tucker said from his side of Danny. “You’re a hero.”

“You put everyone else first, even if they don’t deserve it,” Sam added. “You bring so much good to the world.”

“And we love you, no matter if you’re human, ghost, or something in between,” Tucker finished.

The body between them let out a shaky breath, and suddenly the cold mass became warm again as he shifted back to his human half.

“Sorry guys, whatever is in my system definitely has me all wonky,” Danny croaked, causing his friends to chuckle.

“You don’t say?” Tucker laughed.

“How are you feeling now?” Sam asked.

Danny sighed, then, “I feel like that short existential crisis sobered me up a bit, but I’m not as erratic anymore.” He grinned sheepishly. “Maybe we just go back and finish the documentary?”

Tucker scoffed. “Danny, you broke the TV, remember?”

Danny’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit, I did do that. How am I gonna explain that to my parents?”

“Ghost attack,” his friends said in unison.

“I mean, that’s not technically a lie.” Danny shifted back to his ghostly alter-ego and stood. “Why don’t we go to my room and watch something on my laptop then?” His friends smiled up at him and took his hands, sinking back down into the home. The three of them somehow managed to squeeze onto his small bed with the computer at the foot playing the rest of the movie. At some point, their chatter and laughter trailed off into soft snores as Danny was accompanied in his first peaceful night of sleep in weeks.

#ectoberhaunt23 #eh23 #eh magic #day 11 #calm #danny phantom #lavswordvomit #ghost nip #cringe #rip me

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tropicalrpg · 1 year ago

Text

24 read below

the reason why i stopped writing things down in my notebook is because i kept forgetting. i kept thinking, this would be good to write down, then i didn't, because it meant going out of my way to do something. it meant stopping whatever useless thing i was doing and putting effort into something productive and active.

so i stopped writing. i stopped writing in general: every day, or most days, i think of fic ideas that i'd love to write or keep writing. but i never, or almost never, do. i don't write anymore. even here, i forget, i spend too long without posting (this was supposed to be daily, six months ago! we're twenty-four posts in! it's june!), and i only ever post things i write straight into the blogging feature, with no edits, with no marination. i'm bored or i feel like writing, like ranting, and here i come. i don't post because there's something i want to post about: i post because i want to post. when there's something i want to post about, i just. don't.

here are two things i've thought of posting about.

on thursday, i went to my brother's flat briefly. i didn't know if i wanted to write about this here because it's very personal, very private, and because i'd like to have access to it many years down the line, when the person this is about can hear me talk about it. my brother just had a kid, that's why. jade, is her name. and i'd never seen a baby so young before, and it's fascinating. i wanted to write down the experience so i can remember it when she's big. she's so small. she's so small, her head is smaller than her father's hand, and so he can hold her right on his chest with no effort. he shushes her into stillness not with humming or a song, but actual, soft, melodic shushing. her crying was funny to me, because she'd cry, then start settling down, then start crying again like she was doing it because she felt she was supposed to. and she was so cute. she tugged on my dad's mask when he held her. her eyes were dark, dark, dark, and neither of her parents' are that dark, so i guess that must be a baby thing. it's the first time i've seen her since the day after she was born. she's so small. when my dad held her, i could see the back of her head, and i almost wanted to touch it and feel its softness, its smooth warmth. i only touched her briefly, the tips of her fingers, because i'm scared to touch a baby so small, so fragile. here's something i deliberately thought of writing about, something i want to tell her years down the line: she's so small now, her toes are the size of rice grains. rice! she's so small. i hope she grows big and healthy. i hope i end up being a cool uncle to her. i hope i'm not distant, and i hope she likes me. i know it's still a long time before she even knows what i'm saying, and i also know these years will at least kind of fly by, and she'll be huge before i notice it. so i wanted to write it down. i should've written it down two days ago when the memories were fresher, but better late than never, huh, jade?

yesterday, friday, and i also hesitated on writing about this because i thought of doing it in the same post i'd mention my two week old niece and it just feels wrong, but life is made of many aspects, and now fuck it, this post isn't about either of these things and instead about the act of writing (i forgot to mention in the introduction, despite meaning to: the only thing i kept writing for the past few years, although in the past month or two i've not written any of it, is poetry. because the poems i write are short and efficient and somewhat inspiration based. love based. i yearn and the words come together, somehow. and i write poems by opening my notes app, trying to look for metaphors that fit what i want to say, deciding on a verse scheme on the fly, then finishing the poem whenever it feels like i've written enough. i rarely do touch ups, although sometimes i do. and that's it. a poem. i got one of those published once. fifty dollars for a few minutes of my time. it never happened again, but, still.). yesterday, friday, i took the bus home and got a seat (almost didn't, but did). and all was fine. until, like, ten minutes away from home, when this guy got on the bus and, well, how can i put this? i worry i can't explain this properly even to brazilians, imagine to gringos. but anyway. i was on the aisle? seat? i guess. i was next to the hallway, passage, corridor, thing. and people stand there when there's nowhere to sit! normal! i don't know what buses are like abroad, okay, i'm trying to be as thorough as i can be. the gist of it is a guy (around my age, reasonably attractive, certainly straight) kind of caged me into my seat. not on purpose or like in a threatening way. he just decided to use my seat and the seat ahead of me as the supports he held on to. and he probably chose me because i'm a guy; if i were a girl, this would be threatening even in the best of intentions. you just don't do that. but he did it to me, and it was, well, um. i feel stupid and like a fucking virgin for saying this. but it was an experience! because i made it be one in my brain! it wasn't a huge deal, and thank god no one is reading this, and it wasn't even ten minutes away from my stop, but it was something. i'd love to actually, intentionally, consensually, be caged in by a man. and he knew as well as i did that he didn't have to do that; at some point, he held onto the bars affixed to the roof. he was a little short, so of course the seats were more comfortable, but i think if he hadn't been hot i would've been a little bothered, too. but, too? i don't know. i'm tired, idgaf about grammar. i think i'm getting good at hiding my gayness. i'm certain i scared a straight guy away at some point last year. a hot guy that took the bus to school with me in the morning. there's another hot straight guy that on occasion takes the same bus as me, but i don't even allow myself to look at him now. i always think my attraction will scare guys away. because i'm ugly, and because they're always straight. because ew. because of a million reasons. i've talked about this in therapy. it hasn't really gotten better. i also didn't really want to write about this because i feel like thinking of sex on public transport is a pervy thing, even though i didn't do anything, didn't ogle him (didn't even look at him!), didn't move, didn't even think much. i don't know. i'm sorry, if someone ended up reading this. i'm so tired, good night.

23 06 03

#anonymous #writing exercise #nonfiction #confession #creative writing #diary

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helpinghanikan · 3 years ago

Text

Steven Grant: like you better

Sum: Only a few hours inside his head and Steven has managed to annoy Marc into making a pit stop before reaching Egypt. But maybe Marc isn't as bad as they both think.

AN: Finished the season and couldn't wait to write another bit for Steven Grant. Can't wait for season 2, can't wait for more.

So far Steven had kept his word of refusing Marc peace. For the past several hours Steven has been in every reflection, every shiny object and every quiet moment Marc came across. Granted, this had only been three hours or so, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

Steven glares at Marc now. Showing in the turned off TV screen behind the airport service desk. Being kind enough to not say anything while the lady set up Marc’s ticket for the next day.

“With how easy you leave Layla I’d assume you be good at getting flights.” Steven spat, now showing in the window Marc had sat down next to.

Marc laughs, “that you think it’s easy shows just much you get.”

“Oh, I get plenty.” Steven continues. “I get that you don’t deserve a wife; you don’t deserve any woman. Anyone.”

Hours and hours of this had finally sunk deep into Marc’s skin. His anger wasn’t coming out as sudden violence anymore, it had become calculated and mean. It turned his head towards the window and stared right back at Steven.

“And you do?” He asks with a tilt of the head.

Steven is quiet for a second. “What are you talking about?”

Marc snorts through his nose. Sliding his (Steven’s really) phone from his front pocket. Your number was in the few contacts Steven had entered. The last conversation was only two days ago; when you texted and asked how the well-done steak was.

Steven can see what Marc was opening up. “We’re not anything, she’s not…she’s just a friend, Marc. She doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Then there’s no problem, right?” Marc asks and started texting.

----

When asked about Steven you were honest; he was someone you vaguely knew. A sweet smile at the museum when you visit, A lovely goodbye when you head out, and a sad person who just needed a shoulder at a steak house.

That night had been your longest conversation. Starting when you asked if he was okay, continuing when he asked if you wanted to join, and ending when you told him he’d like steak medium-rare over well-done. To call it a date would have been a stretch, but there was something there.

That something came back when Marc sent you a message.

‘busy?’

You obviously weren’t based on how quickly you texted back confirming this.

‘can I come over? There’s stuff I want to talk about.’ Marc sent in reply, already in the cab.

‘of course, you have my address?’ You reply. Quickly followed by your address before Marc could say whether he did or not.

You were only twenty minutes away. Long enough for Steven to make a bigger hissy fit about you. Continuing to emphasize that you weren’t anything to him, you weren’t involved, blah blah blah. When he finally shut up it was when you opened the door with a smile.

“Steven,” You said softly, as if you hadn’t seen him in years.

It had been a crazy couple of weeks with Steven. When was the last time he got any time with you? Once or twice when you had stopped in to say hi, but Steven wasn’t exactly the most attentive. Not that Steven wasn’t forcing a fast heartbeat when he saw you open the door.

“Hey,” Marc says, willing Steven away. “Am I interrupting?”

“If you were I wouldn’t have let you come over. Come in before the neighbors start talking.” You say, gesturing into your place with a dramatic arm.

“Marc, please don’t hurt her. Please.” Steven says from the black screen of your TV.

“I like the new accent. Just for me?” You asked, in the matching shirt and shorts from bedtime, waiting for him to say something.

“No, actually,” Marc started. “I’m leaving pretty soon.”

“So new voice for new place? I get it. Where are you going?” You ask.

Marc looks at the TV, Steven is staring intently.

“Egypt, heading out tomorrow.”

“Egypt, nice. Are you excited?”

“Not really,” Marc confesses, looking back to Steven “I just needed to talk to you before I go.”

Steven is shaking his head is disappointment. This stupid alter taking it upon himself to judge Marc. When Steven wasn’t even real, not like he was. Not like you were right now. Yet you were still looking for Steven, not Marc.

“Is it about the steak house? And that date you promised?” You asked and Marc looked away from Steven. “I’m more than willing to wait to cash it in-.”

Marc interrupts you with a kiss, his hands taking yours in an intimate gesture he hadn’t intended.

“Fucker”

Marc was many things; a liar, a murderer, thief and even a punk, but he wasn’t a monster. When the kiss quickly became more than a press he let you take the lead. Taking hold of his shirt and pulling him closer until all he could do was wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, hey,” Marc says, interrupting again. “Do you want to? Do you want this?”

You smile but don’t look away from his lips. Laughing with heavy breathe before replying; “Yes, yes Steven I wanna fuck.”

Steven has always been an interesting guy. It was just one of the things that made him so appealing. The he could lift you with barely a grunt was entirely new.

Being lifted without warning is a scary thing. The equivalent of an unexpected drop on a roller coaster. Holding Steven tight out of the sudden fear, face pressed into his shoulder, while being carried to the bed.

“She has nothing to do with us or anything.” Actual Steven says from the reflection of your bedroom window.

Marc was never this fast with Layla. You’ve barely settled on the bed when he’s on you. Kissing so fast and hard that your teeth clang together. It hurts enough that you pull away, a hand to your mouth that Marc takes and kisses. His mouth pressed into the palm of your hand, eyes closed, as you watch and raise an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” You ask and Marc opens his eyes.

The simple answer was no. He hasn’t been okay since Khonsu showed his stupid bird face. Event before that he wasn’t okay. Even on the day he said “I Do” to Layla he had been feeling a bit off. Last time he was okay could probably be traced back to Randall, but those weren’t memories to think about.

The man above you appeared to be too deep in thought to do anything else. Your hand still pressed to his mouth. Completely unmoving for the last few seconds, save for a blink.

Taking advantage of his defocus you put an arm around his back. Using your entire weight to roll the two of you over. Now on top he seems to come back to himself. Be it ignorance or an urge to be the dominate he sits all the way up. His own arm grabbing your hips and back to keep you pressed chest to chest.

“Steven?” You ask, hands on his face.

“Please don’t let her think I’m like this. Please.” Actual Steven asks from the window.

There’s no argument that he is a handsome man. Without light his normally brown eyes become a starless night. A naturally tired face that you smooth your thumbs over in appreciation. Massaging his cheek bones, running over his eyebrows, and kissing between them. He looks up at you slightly with an expression that can only be described as desperate, adorable, and wanting.

“You’re so handsome,” You say, hand gently sliding through his hair.

“She thinks I’m handsome? Really?” The actual Steven asks.

Revenge had never been Marc’s style. Outside of sudden rage at a situation he’s never really planned anything out. Even now, sleeping with his alters crush, wasn’t like him. Maybe it was the jealousy of Steven’s innocence that created this, or how long it’s been since he could have Layla, or…

Marc looks over to the window. Where Steven isn’t looking at Marc anymore. He’s looking at you, he’s smiling at you with a hand placed on the glass. Marc had looked at Layla the same way. Suddenly this wasn’t nothing but revenge. Suddenly Marc understood consequences, and he understood Steven enough to make a very stupid decision.

Steven is allowed control while your hands still hold his face. It only takes a second that you’re not sure actually happened. His eyes losing their luster and head tilting back slightly before coming back to position.

Steven takes a shaky breath, smiling at you. His head leaning into your hands while you still rub and scratch at his scalp.

“Thank you,” He says, voice different but not worth mentioning consider how stressed he likely was.

“Your welcome, beautiful.” You say.

Although the thankyou was directed at him Marc doesn’t say ‘you’re welcome’, Nor does he even really acknowledge that he did anything worth thanks. Instead he just looks down at his feet that aren’t really there.

Steven’s kisses are now slower, messier, like he trying to taste and savor your lips. He slides his hands up and down your back, stopping just before your backside and never giving the hint of going under your sleep shirt.

You were not so patient. Immediately going for his shirt hem and tugging at it until he got the hint and lifted his arms. The shirt coming off and tossed away before Steven can say the thank you he was thinking. Not that you cared about that, too focused on the body before you, hands following the bumps and crevasses his abs and muscles create over the torso.

“You hid this from me for too long, Steven.” You say, sliding both hands up his stomach, over his pectorals and back down.

“They kinda snuck up on me, too.” Steven says, only recently understanding why he was in good shape without ever so much as jogging. “I’m glad you like-Oh!”

He makes the cutes squeak when you lightly bite on his right pectoral. Pushing forward for his to lay flat so you can lick over his chest. Flattening your tongue down and over his nipple. Kissing over to the other side and doing the same.

Words aren’t going to happen for Steven while you do this. It’s amazing that he still breathe as you kiss his torso and grind against his bulge at the same time. While there is no rhythm to be had he strains his neck to watch you do this trick, amazed at your multitasking skills.

He has an open mouth, flushed cheek, face when you crawl back up his body. Sitting just above his cock and go about unbuttoning your shirt. A sadistic part of you goes slower than either of you would like. Refusing to left the fabric open enough to show anything but the slightest peak of breasts until you got every button open.

“Touch me,” You order, pulling open the shirt and letting it fall behind you onto Steven’s legs.

Steven doesn’t do as you say. Staring at your breasts that moving perfectly with each breath you took. Not to toss the blame but you didn’t make it easier by bringing your arms together in front of you, pressing your breasts in a way Steven could only ever dream about.

“Steven?” You ask, as if you weren’t the distraction keeping Steven busy.

“What? Yes, right!” Steven says, surprisingly going for your waist rather than the obvious.

Leaning down to kiss Steven slides around your back. Squeeze the softness of your hips, thigh, and covered backside. All that skin-to-skin contact and his hands are still cold when he makes it past your shorts. Squeezing both of your cheeks surprisingly hard. Hard enough that you moaned into Steven’s mouth.

Steven appeared to be a man who liked to map out the things he liked. Whether it’s reading his Egyptian books cover to cover to get every fact he could or chewing his steak until the already over cooked meat tasted nothing like a steak. He did the same now with your backside. Squeezing and massaging them until you were almost numb,. Feeling down the roundness to the back of your thighs and back up twice.

Eventually his inspection became too much. Forcing you to take things into your own hands and using your thumbs to pull your shorts down past your ass. Steven not taking the hint to move on and instead took advantage of the view you created.

You giggled when Steven pulled you closer until your head rested over your shoulder. Giving him the ability to look over your back and see the jiggling effect his hands have on your ass. Although he didn’t spank you he did give a little slap, just enough to see what would happen.

“You know I’m gonna do the same to your ass whatever you do to mine,” You whisper in his ear. Already thinking about the opened mouth gasp he’d make when full of a strap.

Your voice was enough for Steven to break the hypnotism.

“I’m sorry, Dear, It’s just…” He says, looking for words while you kiss his cheek. “your arse is a dream.”

“Wait until you get the rest of me.” You say, having to fight him a bit to sit back up and move down his body.

It takes Steven a moment to understand what you were doing. It finally clicking when his fly is opened, and you start shimming down his pants. The most he helps is lifting his hips for his pants and underwear to be completely removed. His cock already hard and practically dripping when you get your hands on it.

Precum used as lubricant you only get in two pumps and the placing of condom before Steven stops you. Sitting all the way up and putting a handout to stop you before it’s too late.

“Not yet. Not Yet.” He says, a hand on your face to kiss him.

Turning your head into his hand you take his fingers hostage. Taking three at once without warning wasn’t all that sexy. But it surprised him enough that you got his fingers nice and wet. His eyes wide at your confidence, staying that size when you release them and take gentle hold of his wrist.

“Touch me, please.” You command with a soft voice. Guiding his hands down and between your thighs.

It takes Steven a moment to get the rhythm that makes you keen. Simply opening your lips and sliding back forth wasn’t enough. He used two fingers to curl up on your clitoris, swirl slightly, and sliding back down to your entrance but not entering. He does this at a decent pace until your hips started to move with his hands. Going faster when he wanted to hear your sounds and keep it fast when your moans got higher and higher.

Marc isn’t anywhere near when you orgasm. Steven looks to window but only see the city. Really only looking for a few second as your trembling and open mouth was a much better sight than any view could be.

Steven relishes in having you all to himself. Sitting up on his knees he pulls your sweaty body into a hug. Taking a deep inhale of your hair, kissing your scalp, and squeezing your shoulders.

You squeeze him back. Quickly grabbing his ass probably a bit harder than needed. It made a slap noise that Steven’s eyes shoot open at. He looks down at you and you look up at him with a smile that can only be described as excited.

“We’re not done yet.” You said and pushed away from his just enough to straddle and put a hand between his legs.

There’s no stopping the gasp and groan made when he penetrates. It’s been a minute since you’ve done anything. It makes Steven’s stretch that more effective. Your arms scrambling around his shoulders, groaning into his shoulder while he kisses your temple.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, his hands busy on the back of your thighs to keep balance.

You shake your head before answering. “Steven, please start moving, please.”

He does as you ask: Starting slow to find the rhythm and balance on his knees while your legs wrap around him. Steven is often surprised by his athleticism, this time taking the risk and using his own stretch to lift and bounce you against his lap. The room quickly full of smacking and groans that the neighbors were likely privy to.

“Oh, Oh fuck,” You said, more surprised about being lifted like it was nothing than how deeply Steven was making it into your guts.

Steven says your name like a war chant. Moaning out into your hair and biting into your mouth with the passion and fury of a warrior that no longer exists. He calls your beautiful and begs for your voice that he’ll remember for months, for forever.

Your first orgasm left you with a heavy feeling that pressing down onto Steven’s cock. It made your clitoris sensitive, so much so that you hiss when you reach between you for it. Not able to get the same movements and feelings Steven had provided but it was enough to have your eyes rolling and mouth saying absolute nonsense.

Steven was in no better position. Doing his best to make it good for you but the pleasure and warmth of your pussy was just too much. He grips your thighs hard enough to leave little bruises the next morning. Bringing you into a kiss and moaning like an animal into your mouth. His thrusts becoming sloppy, but they were still enough to focus on while you brought yourself to completion for a second time.

Steven makes a gasp louder than yours when he feels your orgasmic clench around his drained cock. Moving his head to look up at you and smiling when you look back. Your foreheads booping together without any indication from the other.

It’s almost funny, and absolutely cute, when Steven teeters and collapses on top of you. The man was short, but he was heavy with muscle and strength that pins you down to the bed. While you laugh at his dramatics you do tap his shoulder like a pinned fighter. Silently telling him to roll over and release you.

“You were-you are,” He says, still gasping even while you remove and tie off the condom. Tossing it away to avoid making him get up. It’s not until you lay back down beside him that he finally figures out what to say. “You really are everything.”

Laying naked, side by side, you take his hand and bring it up to your lips to kiss the back of it. “Do you wanna stay? Spend the night?” You ask and Steven nods.

Marc comes back before Steven falls asleep. He’s not angry or jealous like he had been at the nights beginning, he’s sad. Something that Steven can see but doesn’t acknowledge.

Steven fights to stay awake the entire night. He holds you close and kisses your face until you demand some peace from the man. Steven using your breasts as a pillow and finally succumbing to reality of Marc taking his place without knowing when Steven will ever be able to come back you again.

#reader insert #Steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant smut #marc spector #moon knight #Marc could be worse #steven grant my beloved #How do you write british accents?#marvel imagine #Moon knight imagine #Moon knight x reader #he looks so cuddly #moon knight smut

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jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—out of the blue. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: youtuber/gamer!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 5,204

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: catching your boyfriend bleaching and dyeing his hair for a livestream is definitely not what you expected — but it certainly has its perks.

⟶ warnings: established relationship, some attempt at humour, .2 seconds of sort of sub jungkook (you just like seeing him on his knees), you call jungkook a good boy, shower sex, hair pulling, oral sex, face riding, standing sex, breast play, cum eating, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: because blue haired jungkook has me feeling all sorts of things. also dedicating this to the lovely ryen @kithtaehyung because blue haired jungkook is getting her too and i hope this helps!! and thank you to the wonderful @gamerkooks and @stanrandomthings for always giving me inspiration for gamer jungkook <3

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook has less than a second to react when he hears you bursting through the door of his bedroom, a guilty expression plastered on his face as if you’ve caught him in the midst of a much worse act than what he’s already currently doing ━ but the flustered scowl deepening your countenance is enough for him to certainly feel that way, because how else is he supposed to casually explain why he’s currently sitting shirtless in front of a camera?

Admittedly, the sight is odd enough, and there’s a split moment where your incredulous look is enough to make him feel as if he’s wronged you, and your six month long relationship with him, entirely before he remembers that he didn’t actually do anything wrong like cheat on you, but is actually just trying to dye his hair.

He’s sat in his gaming chair, camera and lights set up around him, and the monitor of his desktop all recording his face to the hundreds of thousands of viewers currently watching his livestream. He had told you well in advance about his aim to do a twenty-four hour live broadcast for his subscribers to both raise money for a donation and to countdown to his next subscriber milestone with the help of his friends ━ and had even asked you to help him plan the event, discussing it animatedly with you for the past month on various occasions ━ but mainly just because Jungkook is crazy enough to sit through a twenty-four hour stream and call it fun.

You had known most of how the entirety of the day would go. Starting from noon the previous day to now, almost an hour before the stream ends, thus far he’s done various gameplays from Minecraft to Overwatch to Among Us simultaneously with his friends who had offered to marathon with him the twenty-four hour event; had a period of time in which Jimin and Taehyung were over and cramped in his room to answer questions and talk to viewers but mostly just to create absolute chaos. You had been there for most of it, though you’re still trying to figure out if it’s a blessing or a curse that you were suckered into paying rent for your three bedroom apartment by Taehyung more than a year ago, and subsequently falling madly in love with Jungkook and forcing you to aid in his antics. You’ve been in a handful of his videos before, appearing in Twitch and YouTube streams, and in the background of vlogs in his channel and the channels belonging to the other boys; and, on that day for Jungkook’s twenty-four hour event, you had joined him at the start before being dragged away for work and then tried to pull an all-nighter with him until you crashed on the couch in the living room, and checking in on him occasionally to give him food and water and to just generally make sure your boyfriend isn’t dead.

Now, with the remaining final hour dwindling down, you had been in your room trying to finish last minute essay writing for school, with your phone propped up on your desk and Jungkook’s livestream playing as background noise to your studying. One minute, he had been playing a round of Among Us, and the next, when you had glanced up, he had the bottle in hand and the detrimental blue dye coating his hair in slick globs. It wouldn’t have been so shocking, had you not seen Jungkook an hour ago when he had his natural dark hair still, and now he had somehow managed to sneak in bleaching his hair in the time you had left him. Maybe it was your fault for not catching it sooner, if only because you had sheepishly taken a small nap amidst your studying only to wake up to a nightmare.

Which is where that leaves you currently, dishevelled demeanour standing at the threshold of his door after chasing over to his room, watching as Taehyung helps Jungkook sufficiently ruin his beautiful hair which you love so much.

“Uh… Dyeing my hair?” Jungkook finally answers, dumbfounded. He’s fortunate he had pulled off his shirt to avoid getting hair dye on it, an old towel now draped around his shoulders to catch any excess mess. He adds brightly, “We asked for suggestions on how to end the stream and someone said I should dye my hair, so Tae got the stuff.”

“You bleached your own hair?” You retort, exasperated. “When the hell did all this happen? I’ve been next door to you the whole time! What if your hair falls out? You should’ve gotten a professional to do it, not Tae━”

Taehyung looks inexplicably offended by your slandering remarks on his (lack of) hair styling skills, retorting with, “Yo, what the━?”

Jungkook blinks, as if just being made aware of what he’s actually doing.

“My hair’s gonna fall out?” he gaps. “Guys, what the hell? Why’d no one tell me?”

He looks from you to Taehyung then over at the comments on his livestream which are currently flooding with the sole topic of you. His eyes snag the first few that appear to him in the frenzied influx of words:

uh oh jungkook’s sleeping on the floor tonight

oh shit run bro

f in the chat for jk’s hair

get him y/n!!!!

“Dude, she’s just being dramatic,” Taehyung waves you off. He ducks out of the way when you reach out to Jungkook’s bed for a pillow and chuck it at the older boy’s head.

“And when he’s bald, then what━”

“No!” A helpless Jungkook exclaims suddenly. He gestures wildly to the stream, “Don’t give them ideas. The edits are gonna start pouring in.”

“Jeon, look, it’s too late to go back now,” Taehyung says. “You’ve got half your head covered in dye and three minutes to go with the stream. How bad can it be?”

A groveling sigh eclipses your lips as you push yourself forward. “Then at least let me help before you ruin it completely.”

Jungkook’s fortunate, to say the least, though he’s left wondering if you’re truly upset with him.

He finishes the countdown to the end of his twenty-four hour stream with you and Taehyung putting the last remaining globs of dye on his hair, a heartfelt goodbye to his viewers who marathoned the stream with him, and a promise to update them on the status of his hair when he washes the dye out.

And, just as soon as he’s shut his camera off, the mundane world returns to him.

It’s no longer millions of anonymous and faceless viewers watching him from the other side of their screens in the tiny bubble that is his room, but just you and Taehyung and the older boy’s frisky little Pomeranian dog and the threat of a wallowing regret as Jungkook thinks to himself, what the hell did he truly just do to his hair?

At some point, Taehyung retreats to his girlfriend’s house taking Yeontan with him, leaving you alone with Jungkook and he basks in the sudden cozy quiet after twenty-four hours of madness as the adrenaline rush begins to fade and mellow out. Back aching, joints cracking and popping as he stretches and moves, and eyes burning in the similar way they do from having stared at a screen for too long, but tenfold, he craves nothing more than to find your sweet and comforting touch to end such a long day.

He finds you in the living room already scrolling through your phone and your Twitter feed to read and marvel at all the comments and memes made by his viewers during his stream and his heart threatens to burst through his chest because you’ve always been so supportive of him and his fans, and they’ve always adored you and your endless interactions with them. So, surely, you can’t be mad at him for bleaching and dyeing his hair. Right?

As his arms come to wrap around you from behind, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck, he hears you bemoan, “You look like a Smurf came on your head.”

Wrong.

Well, not entirely, he guesses. You do lean into his chest, practically melting against him. A sluggish grin tugs at his lips and, instead, he chooses to ask, “Shower with me?”

“Aren’t you tired, Koo?”

“Baby,” he deadpans, and your heart flutters just a little bit, “by this point, I’m running solely on Red Bull and coffee that I’m positive I could fight the gods with my bare hands and win. In fact, I’ve had so much caffeine that I’m fairly certain I’ve ascended to the astral plane. Besides, I need to wash this dye out, and I could use some help. Sleep can wait.”

“Help,” You snort. “You’re such a liar. I already know what you want.”

“To spend time with my beautiful girlfriend? You’re right.”

“I’m not sucking your dick.”

He pulls his head back to look at you. Though he tries to look offended, there’s the tiniest of smirks on his face. “Wasn’t gonna ask you!”

You turn to properly face him in his arms and shoot him a dubious glance. He leans down to press a chilling kiss to your jaw, then nudges his nose against you in the same spot so that you’ll move your head. You do so, despite your prior scolding, and let him kiss the underside of your jaw down to your neck.

“Okay, fine,” You huff finally.

You relent, miraculously, but Jungkook had already guessed you would the moment he had found you in the living room and he couldn’t be happier.

He cherishes the moments alone with you, has come to know them well as he falls into a comfortable routine with you away from prying eyes over the last few months. Because sometimes, as he comes to learn, it’s hard to establish a relationship when his job requires him to be in the spotlight often. What is authentic and what is simply fabricated for views is difficult to discern, and yet you’re patient with him. Not everything to him is money and views and numbers, or what his next big plan is, or how you could potentially help him in some way (despite knowing that any video featuring you seems to skyrocket his views and land his videos on the trending page of YouTube more often than not because he knows everyone loves you more than him). You know when he’s his online persona and when he’s simply just Jungkook, and while there’s hardly any difference between the two, his online personality surely has to maintain a level of privacy and happiness that may not always be true.

At least with you, he can just be himself. He can finally be at ease.

Showering together is just one of the many acts of normalcy he cherishes with you. So, he turns on the shower and lets the bathroom get all warm and balmy as you undress. He’s the first one inside, hissing in delight as he lets the water run over his sore muscles, washing out the dye in his hair firstly so as not to get it on you and fortunately not making too much of a mess of blue dye in the tub. You’ve joined him in an instant when he’s nearly done, squeezing into the space in front of him as you shut the glass door behind you, the pane already beginning to fog and slick with droplets of condensation. He pulls you into him once more, nestling his chin on your shoulder as his hands come to wrap around you. They slide across your front, all wet and soapy, briefly gliding across your breasts, palms brushing against your nipples before traveling down to your navel.

“Congrats, baby,” You coo gently. “Twenty-four hours.”

He murmurs into your hair, “Missed you loads though.”

You turn to look at him finally, and it’s hard not to stare. Your eyes land firstly on his abdomen and the toned muscles there, trailing up to his arm and the pretty tattoos that decorate every inch of his skin, to his soft pink lips and his big eyes. Then, there’s the matter of his hair. The water has done most of the work in washing out the dye from his hair, now falling across his forehead and into his eyes and cheekbones, and it’s only then that you fully register the dye has worked as you struggle to find any remnants of his once-ebony-then-blonde locks. The blue hair is an obvious stark contrast to his natural hair and, you think, it is pretty, accentuating his radiant skin and making his eyes pop.

“I didn’t think you were actually serious all those times you said you wanted to change your hair.” Your lips are pursed as you survey him now, your fingers twirling a strand of his tresses around and around as you inspect it.

He smiles, catching your hand and pressing a quick peck to your knuckles. “Neither did I,” he admits sheepishly. “It sort of just happened.”

You pout. “I’m gonna miss your natural hair.”

“Do you really hate it blue?”

“I don’t hate it. Was more scared you’d ruin your pretty hair and make it all fall out.”

At this, Jungkook flashes you a cheeky smile. He holds his head a little higher. “So you still think my hair is pretty?”

“I think you’re a dork,” You clarify. “And, aside from the fact you almost gave me a heart attack, I’d say the blue is so pretty. Beyond pretty. Kinda hot, if I’m being honest.”

Because you’re not really mad, but it’s fun just to tease Jungkook and see his reactions. At the very least, he can sense this, as it’s apparent with the way his smile stretches even wider on his face.

“Hot, huh?”

“Mhm. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

He feigns a look of mock hurt. “Oh no. You must be really mad. Want me to make it up to you?”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, what do you want from me?”

You take a moment to think it over, but the answer is already obvious enough. It’s one that even he knows, and one that has won you over the moment Jungkook was freed from his stream. You hum aloud, “You, on your knees, head between my legs, like a good boy. Think I can get a better viewpoint of your hair from down there anyway before I judge it.”

“Like a good boy?” A dark smirk tugs at his face. “So now who’s the needy one?”

He lowers his head so that he’s leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your neck to your collarbones. As you let yourself get carried away for a moment, you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him backwards until you’re pressed up against the glass door. He ducks even lower, kissing just above your left breast and then catching your nipple between his teeth. You swallow thickly, rubbing your thighs together, reminding yourself to respond to him.

“It’s not my fault when you were busy for the past day,” You pout. “And the blue hair really is sexy.”

“Aha!” he straightens up in front of you suddenly, a crooked smug smile on his face. “So I’m not just hot. I’m sexy.”

“You’re literally always sexy. And beautiful too. It’s almost unfair.”

“That’s even better.”

You tug your fingers at his damp locks. When you speak, your voice is a mix between urgency and a whine. “Jungkook. I could’ve already gotten off with my hand at this point.”

“Ouch, feisty!” He pokes his fingers at your sides. Then, nipping a little more firmly on the soft skin of your breast, murmurs huskily, “Alright, alright. But only if you call me a good boy again.”

Part of him is taunting you, but there’s a small sliver of intrigue that makes the thought in his head and the pretty words on your tongue excite him to no end.

Still, you choose to entertain him, maybe a little drowsily and entirely consumed by him, “I will if you let me ride your face.”

A rumble of a chuckle resonates from him. You find him on his knees in the next moment, wedging himself between your thighs. He nudges one of your legs and you follow the wordless command, hitching one thigh over his shoulder as you settle back against the glass door of the shower. He kisses at your hips as he dips his head lower and lower to where you want him, before swiping his tongue at your cunt, tasting all of you at once.

“Mmm, Koo━” A soft whimper sounds from you, making his head swim.

He wastes no time in lapping at your folds, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his neck. The wetness that pools between your legs and on the tip of his tongue is a sticky mess that he basks in just a little longer.

“Fuck,” he groans into your pussy, “you taste so fucking good. Missed this so much.”

His hands are big as they come to hold you close, cradling your ass, your thighs, your hips, anything to pull you into him while simultaneously pushing your thighs further apart.

You manage to find your voice and quip weakly, “Missed me or having your head between my legs?”

“You, definitely,” he murmurs. He busies himself by reaching out with his thumb to press circles against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hips rutting into his face. “All of you.”

“Jungkook━ Fuck━”

He burrows further into you, humming in response. His nose brushes against your clit, the muscle of his tongue a pleasant wet that makes you warm all over. You give another experimental swivel of your hips, grinding against his tongue just right. He pinches at your hips as if to probe you onward, and then you do it again, and again, desperately rocking your hips back and forth against him. Your fingers reach out to grab a fistful of his hair, clutching it so tightly he hisses. But you’re right. The blue locks look dazzling between your legs, being pulled by your hands as you push him further into you.

His eyes meet yours from below your waist, hooded and idle, enjoying the view as you squirm and writhe above him, shamelessly riding his face. Grinding against his chin, nose, and tongue, the slick wetness you leave behind glistens on his skin.

“Ah, Koo━” You cry out. “Fuck, I’m gonna━!”

Your orgasm hits you violently, sending you keeling. Your hips continue with reckless abandon, and Jungkook presses his finger against your clit a little harder, a little faster. The abrupt gushing warmth between your thighs sends your mind spinning, as the steam from the shower and your panting breaths begin to fog the bathroom. When your hips begin to slow, Jungkook laps at the rest of your leaking core before pulling away with a grin brandishing his shimmering face. He lets you pull him up eagerly, clumsy hands fumbling to hold either side of his face as you tug at him.

“God, you’re so hot, babe,” he sighs wistfully, smothering your lips with his for an all too chaste kiss, before leaning in once more to nibble at your lower lip.

“Wanna feel you, Koo,” You prompt urgently. “Want you in me.”

Jungkook hastens to comply, his hands falling to your waist. “Go on, then. Turn around for me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You spin so that you’re facing the glass sliding door, your back to him. You watch him over your shoulder, momentarily admiring his well built stature, the tattoos that ink his body, and the water that shimmers on his skin. He has to push his wet hair up and away when it falls across his forehead and then he reaches down to grasp at his length, grip tight around his shaft so that he can pump himself sluggishly a few short times. It’s almost painful to watch him jerk himself off in front of you, the tip a burning red and glistening. He catches you staring and decides to catch you off guard when he grabs a hold of your hips with one hand. He yanks you towards him, your ass pressed firmly against his hips, making you jump from the startle, and grins when you look back at him.

Then, ever so slowly, he runs the length of his cock along your folds. Before you can brace yourself for the overwhelming rush of pleasure, he’s sliding his cock past your folds, burrowing into you deep. He curses behind you, his other hand flying out to steady himself by digging into your hip.

“Fffuck. Shit.” He dips his head so that his cheek is resting against your shoulder and sputters for air. “Jesus, fuck━ Been dying to feel you all day.”

He fits so snugly in you, so perfectly, just like always and you take him so well, coaxed by your own arousal. He ruts his hips forward into yours and you nearly fall forward before catching yourself by pressing your palms to the glass. Then, he’s grinding against you, small and precise thrusts that roll into your hips.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” you choke out. “You feel so━ So good.”

“Ah, shit,” he hisses. “Wanna wreck you so bad.”

He angles his chest a little more, pummels his dick into you in such a way that he’s hitting a different spot in you. His eyes stay fixated on the soft, round flesh of your ass and the way his cock slips so easily into you, brows screwed in concentration, jaw clenched. The slight bounce of your ass each time he rolls his hips firmly against you, the way you ricochet forward each time in tandem with his moves. You bow your head, pressing your temple against the glass door now tinted with condensation, only marked up by the imprints of your fingers grasping at anything. It’s almost sweltering hot in the shower now but you both pay no mind to it. He fucks into you with such languid, steady strides, cock beginning to throb and twitch in anticipation. You feel so wet, such a pitiless mess between your thighs already that it makes him growl.

“H-Harder,” You mewl. “Oh, Koo━”

He almost slips behind you in his eagerness to obey, awakening something animalistic in him, a yearning to just release all the tension in his core. This time, he adapts a measured pace, forceful thrusts that have you crying out in delight each time. One hand reaches up to grip at your shoulder to steady himself while his other slithers around your front to grasp at your breasts, all wet and supple, pinching at your nipples.

“So good,” he moans, pressing sloppy kisses just below your ear. His breath is hot as he pants behind you, sending tingles down your spine. “Fuck━”

His voice is cut off by a whine, hips bucking forward in an unsolicited manner as he feels his high drawing near. You lean your head onto his shoulder, stretching your arm out so that you can tug desperately at his hair. It’s a silent, simple command, but it’s one that he immediately understands even without you speaking.

“Wanna feel you━” You whimper. “Wanna see you.”

Jungkook nearly slips as he fumbles to pull out of you, hissing at the loss of warmth and friction. As soon as you’ve turned to face him, he wastes no time in closing the distance between you. He pushes his leaking cock past your folds once more and continues at the same pace as if he had never even stopped to begin with.

“Fuck,” he whines. “Not gonna last━”

You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him even closer to you, as he presses you against the glass. He hitches one of your thighs around his waist, spreading your legs just wide enough to hit a certain spot that has both of you crying out. You’re clinging so tightly to him, fingers digging harshly into his skin in an attempt to alleviate the building pressure you feel. He knows you’ve almost reached your end when you resort to a gasping, moaning mess, writhing beneath his broad stature.

“Close, baby?” he hums.

You open your mouth to respond but can only muster a whimper. His pace treads over to heedlessly frantic, the sound of skin against skin and the lewd wetness filling the shower. Despite his hips pounding into yours so harshly, his fingers flutter so delicately under your chin, grasping it and moving your head just enough so that you’re facing him.

“Lemme see you,” he grunts. “Wanna watch you when you cum all over my cock. Always so pretty.”

“I━ I’m━ Fuck, Koo━”

But you can’t finish your thought.

You keep your gaze fixated on Jungkook’s, however exhausted and weary it may be. Your lashes flutter, brows knit together, and you suck your lower lip between your teeth, biting so hard Jungkook’s certain you’ll bruise it. Another few hard thrusts and then you’re reaching your high, overcome by such an intense burning that you can’t help but look away out of instinct. You cry his name, face contorting in pure pleasure, and chest arching to meet his. You’re clenching so tightly around him has him sputtering for air, nearly collapsing entirely against you. You’re near dripping around his cock which only means he almost slips from you with each draw of his hips that he makes. It’s why he sloppily rocks his hips into yours, desperate to reach his own high as well.

When you return to your senses, blinking away your blurry vision, you can make out Jungkook cooing into your ear, “That’s it, baby. Doing so well.”

You meet his gaze once more, only this time you’re perhaps even more tired. Hooded eyes watch him, silently probing him to his climax. He comes tumbling towards it, a few more short thrusts of his hips and, finally, he’s there. He slams his hips up into yours one final time, crying out, and then he’s releasing into you in an overwhelming abrupt gush. Only he can’t quite enjoy it because, out of genuine accident and driven by impatience to just get off, the last jerk of his hips hits you a little too hard.

It’s what causes you to slip backward and he, so lost in his own reverie, hardly has a proper grip on you or where he’s standing. When you lose your footing beneath you, slipping on the wet porcelain of the tub, and comes crashing down, he’s brought along with you. “Oh, fuck━!”

The both of you yelp from the surprise, your hands flailing out to brace yourself for the fall.

Fortunately, you land on him when you reach the bottom of the tub, courtesy of him grabbing onto you last second so that he can soften the blow upon impact.

Unfortunately, the breath is knocked out of him from the startle and from the sudden added weight of you on top of him with no warning.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“In hindsight,” You wince as you shift your weight above him, “maybe having sex in the shower again wasn’t the greatest idea. Remember last time when we knocked the shower curtain down and I had to get stitches on my elbow? It’s why we got the glass door installed, and then we had to lie to Tae about it.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” He tilts his head back, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he flashes you an all too charming smirk. “Was kinda worth it though.”

You giggle, sounding so sweet and angelic, even despite the way his cum still leaks from you. Somewhere in the fall, his dick had slipped from you and now lays softening on his stomach which, really, is probably the worst part of the accident to him. He already misses the warmth of you wrapped around him, your mingling cum a dirty mess around him. You prop yourself up on his chest with your palms, but before you can even think to respond, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

A small mass of fur in the shape of little Yeontan has just poked his head through the crack in the door, oblivious to you and Jungkook’s compromising position. And then, shortly following behind him, is his equally oblivious owner who must have forgotten something in the apartment to bring him back so suddenly.

“Tannie, get back here━ We gotta go━ Oh, Jesus, what the fuck?” Taehyung appears at the door for a millisecond before noticing the situation he’s just stumbled upon. Thankfully, he acts fast, and clamps a hand over his tainted eyes, clumsily scooping up Yeontan in his other hand. “Can you guys please stop fucking all over this damn apartment? My son’s eyes are too pure for this!”

And then he’s retreating, but not before bumping blindly into the doorframe, grumbling along the way. It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook gawk at one another; then you hear Taehyung leave the apartment once more, and the both of you dissolve into a fit of unabashed laughter.

“Are you okay?” You ask once you’ve calmed down enough as he reaches out to shut the shower off. You plant a kiss in your boyfriend’s hair. “You hit your head coming down.”

Jungkook’s heart swells at your gentle touches and smiles. “I’m fine,” he promises brightly. “You?”

“Well, you did just thoroughly fuck me, so━” You shrug innocently. “I’m kinda still too giddy to even care.”

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he says. “For almost giving you a heart attack with my hair and for almost putting you in the emergency room again just now.”

The mention of his hair draws your attention to it once more. It’s not as wet as before, damp azure waves falling into his eyes that you brush away gingerly.

“Yeah,” You snort, “but I’ve decided I like your hair. Like, really like it.”

“Yeah?” he grins wide. “What was the deciding factor?”

You pause, as if to think for a moment. Exhaustion riddles your body and you know sleeping curled up next to Jungkook is nearing your future, but for now you let yourself entertain the last remnants of whatever lewd thoughts are still on yours and his minds before they fizzle away completely. You can’t help yourself anyway. The blue really is nice.

“Definitely the view of you eating me out,” You say. “And can’t forget how pretty it looks when I’m pulling at your hair.”

“Say no more,” he beams. “Then I’ll make it up to you by making you cum on my tongue again and again and again.”

The last thing he hears before he grabs at your cheek to softly pull you down to him for one last kiss, slow and ardent, is a bubbly giggle from you that delights him to no end.

“That’s a good boy.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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arvinsescape · 3 years ago

Text

Subspace.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for aaaaaggggeees, I actually forgot I’d written it 🤣, another different sort of writing and I hope you all enjoy (Please remember this is a work of fiction)! 💕💕

Summary: The first time Tom realises his girlfriend is stuck in subspace.

Warnings: Mentions of sex (Minors do not engage), talks of a dom! x sub! relationship, swearing, mentions of an injury.

Something is wrong with you and Tom can’t put his finger on it. You’re not yourself and haven’t been since last night. You seem almost out of it, as if you’re here but at the same time not.

“Shit.” You muttered out as you caught your foot on the edge of the couch and fell onto your knees. This is what Tom is talking about, you’re not usually this clumsy but this morning? You’ve had his heart hammering in his chest more times this morning than you have in the last year of dating.

“Darling, are you okay?” Tom asked as he helped you to your feet, a complete look of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, just lost my footing.” You smiled as you flopped onto the couch. “Think my legs are still recovering.” You huffed out through a laugh.

“Are you sure? You’re a lot clumsier than normal.” Tom was concerned now, it was growing inside his stomach and he couldn’t shift it, he just couldn’t put his finger on what was going on with you.

“Like I say, I think my legs are still a bit shaky from last night.” You shrugged as you trained your eyes onto the TV.

You’d had an intense session last night, you’d had multiple orgasms and both of you had had earth shattering ones to finish off, the kind that knocked him out almost completely, how tired he was washing over him in an instant. It had been one of your more intense sessions in fourteen month relationship, although you had a dom, sub relationship it was never too out there. Orgasm denials, multiple orgasms, light choking, him tying you up were as far as you’d ventured so far.

Tom only grew more concerned as the day went on, especially when he walked through to the living room at 1pm and found you still on the couch. You were in the same position he’d left you in almost two hours ago.

“Darling,” Tom asked and you mindlessly hummed in response. “You’re meeting your friend in twenty minutes.” He pointed out and he watched as you picked your phone up and checked the time, panicking as you saw it.

“Shit, shit, shit. Lost track of time.” You said as you shot past him and upstairs. Of course Tom understood that anyone could lose track of time, it just happened. But you? No, you were the most organised and punctual person he knew, if you said you would be somewhere, you’d turn up ten minutes early, you didn’t do late.

You quickly rushed out a ‘love you’ with a quick kiss to his cheek as you practically ran out of the door. Tom found himself thanking the Gods that you weren’t driving with how you’d been this morning.

You came back a few hours later, rushing into the living room and practically throwing yourself at him. You were cold from the winter air and it made Tom shiver slightly at the sudden temperature change he was experiencing.

“You okay?” He asked as his hand came to the back of your head, your face stuffed into his chest.

“I missed you.” You sniffled and Tom was taken aback, this was normal when he’d spent weeks away from you, but hours? You were a pretty independent person, although you and Tom were extremely close, you were by no means completely attached at the hip.

“I missed you too.” Tom comforted as he squeezed you, you pulled yourself closer, making him shift so you could straddle him. Clinging to him as if he’d disappear, although you were a cuddly person by nature you were usually happy just cuddled into his side as you watched TV.

“You did?” You asked as you pulled back to look at him, excitement in your eyes, almost like a child. Tom furrowed his brows, this was unusual, like he says, you’re an independent person, you were acting like you needed him to say it, needed him to reassure you.

Of course, there had been times where you had needed that from him, when the media or the fans had been pretty hard on you but as far as he was aware that wasn’t the case right now.

“Of course I did.” Tom reassured as he ran his thumb over your cheek and you leant into the minor touch, making Tom take your face in his hand. You seemed to be craving his touch, it seemed to be something you needed he observed over the next hour.

You stayed in his lap, whining when he stopped running his hand over your back or through your hair. Nuzzling so far into him that he was sure you were trying to get inside him, when he got up to go into the kitchen you’d trail behind him like a lost puppy. All of your behaviours making Tom grow more and more concerned over you.

In the last few hours you’d seemingly lost coordination of your body, lost track of time and now you were almost emotionally and physically needy. Not that Tom would ever call you needy, or mean it in a bad way, he just didn’t know how else to describe how you were being.

The last straw came when you were making a brew for the two of you, after spending all day seemingly trying to make him happy, needing confirmation from him that your actions were indeed making him so.

“Did I put enough milk in your tea?”

“Yeah,” Tom furrowed his brows, “why?”

“I can make you another if not.” You panicked.

“Did I get the right one?” You asked as you brought a blanket down from the bedroom.

“I never specified which one I wanted.” Tom laughed and watched a panicked look escape you.

“Well when you said a blanket you must have had one in mind, I can go and get it.”

“Darling, calm down.” Tom said with furrowed brows as he forced you to sit with him and trying to stop your panic.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy. That I’m not misbehaving.” You said through a panicked voice and Tom’s concern hit a level he wasn’t sure was possible. Misbehaving? You weren’t a child, you weren’t his pet.

“Baby, you do make me happy.” Tom said. “What’s going on with you? What do you mean misbehaving?” Tom asked and he watched as you shrugged.

“I just want to make sure I’m being good.” You shrugged as you settled back down.

Tom watched as you filled the cup in your hand, the water rising and before Tom could stop it happening, it happened. The water overflowed and poured out onto your hand, you hissed in pain as you pulled it from the cup, putting the kettle down as you did.

“Fuck darling.” Tom panicked as he instantly grasped your arm and shoved your hand under the cold tap.

“That hurt a bit.” You said and Tom’s eyebrows shot up.

“A bit? Y/N/N, you’ve just practically scolded yourself.” Tom panicked as he continued to keep your hand under the cold tap. “Where were you?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I don’t know, I feel a bit,” you paused as you thought of the word. “Floaty,” you settled on.

“Floaty?”

“Yeah, I feel like I keep drifting off today. I’m sorry, have I upset you?” You suddenly asked, eyes finding his.

“Upset? What? Darling, what is going on?” Tom asked as he placed both his hands on your face. You’d just burnt yourself and you seemed more concerned about whether he was upset than your burnt hand.

“I don’t know.” You admitted as tears sprung to your eyes.

“Oh sweetheart.” Tom said as he pulled you into his chest, making sure your hand stayed under the tap. He held for a few minutes, placing kisses into your hairline as your silent tears wet his t shirt. He pulled back after a while, pulling your hand from under the tap to examine it, he was relieved to see no blisters, that you were extremely fucking lucky and had avoided a trip to A & E.

Your hand was still red raw and had a heat to it so Tom grabbed a tea towel and drenched it in cold water, wrapping it around your hand.

“Tommy, I’m tired.” You said almost childlike, almost as you do when you’re in a drunken state. “I’m really tired.” You said again.

“Okay, I’m gonna go and grab some burn cream and then I’ll put you to bed, okay?” He reassured as he led you upstairs and into the bathroom. Once in there he quickly applied the cream to your hand, he was thankful Sam had talked him into buying some, the chef in him reminding the family how bad burns could be. Once he’d dressed you, he helped you get into bed, pulling the covers over you.

“Wait, where are you going?” You asked as Tom was about to leave the room. “You’re not staying?” You asked in a small voice. Your behaviour had certainly taken a turn over the day.

“I can if you want me to?” He said and he watched you frantically nod your head. He cuddled you until you fell asleep and then carefully removed himself from the bed, careful in his every move not to wake you.

It wasn’t long before he was dialling his best friends number and asking him to come over.

“What’s up?” Harrison asked he plopped down on the couch next to Tom.

“Y/N/N.” Tom sighed and Harrisons brows shot up in concern.

“Has something happened? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.” Tom huffed out as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s not been herself today and I don’t know what to do.” Tom admitted.

“How’d you mean?”

“Well for starters she spent most of this morning tripping over things. She lost track of time earlier on today, you know her, she doesn’t do that.” Tom sighed and Harrison shrugged.

“Maybe she genuinely did, we can’t all be perfect.” Haz laughed and Tom looked at him seriously.

“Haz, she’s been, needy. Like I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, just out of character. She told me she didn’t want to ‘misbehave.’” Tom said and Haz furrowed his brows in thought.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Tom shrugged.

“Are you guys like, you know.” Harrison started nervously before collecting himself with a deep breath. “Do you have a dom, sub dynamic?” He asked and Tom furrowed his brows for what felt that the millionth time that day.

“Yeah.” Tom answered carefully.

“And is she the sub?” He asked.

“Harrison.” Tom warned, he wasn’t one to discuss the ins and outs of his sex life with other people, he saw it as a private thing between two people.

“Just,” Haz sighed. “Hear me out, please. Is she?”

“Yeah.” Tom answered again, carefully.

“Have you had a session recently?” He asked again and Tom nodded in response, he was lost, what the fuck did this have to do with anything? “When you engage in your dom side, do you, you know, like ‘punish’ her for misbehaving?”

“Harrison, what the fuck has this got to do with-” Tom cut himself off as realisation dawned on him. You’d been a brat yesterday and he’d acted accordingly.

“It’s called subspace mate.” Harrison said.

“But this has never happened before? Why would it happen now?”

“It doesn’t always happen, sometimes it just takes her hormones being out of balance. Maybe she slipped into it and you never fully coaxed her back, would explain why she’s stuck in a sub mentality.” Haz shrugged.

“But I’ve done everything we normally do in aftercare, I’ve looked after her, reassured her.” Tom reeled off.

“Maybe she’s looking for her dominating partner to bring her back?” Haz suggested. “Try being more forceful.”

“I don’t wanna push her Haz, she fucking burnt herself earlier, completely on another planet when she made a brew.”

“Maybe you have been doing without realising it.”

“What?”

“Kept her in subspace, you’ve coddled her. Made her feel safe, taken care of. Look, I don’t know Tom, every woman is different but it sounds like based on her behaviour, that you have pulled her further under without meaning to.”

“Okay, thanks Haz.” Tom said. They enjoyed a good hour or so together, catching up before Tom’s phone pinged with a message from you asking where he was. Tom sighed as he read it.

“Try being a little firmer with her.” Harrison suggested and Tom nodded as he said goodbye to his friend. “Don’t beat yourself up, these things take trial and error and as long as you are both safe, happy and learning it’ll be okay.” Harrison reassured as he placed a comforting hand on his friends shoulder before heading out.

Tom collected himself as he made his way back into your shared bedroom. Your eyes instantly finding his as you flew out of the bed and into his arms, he took a deep breath before his next move. Clearly he needed to change tactic, he just wasn’t sure which one you needed.

“Y/N,” he said as he pulled you back, holding you at arms length as he looked you deeply in the eye. “I need you to come back.” He said and he watched as you furrowed your brows.

“What do you mean? I’m here?”

“You’re not, not properly.” Tom said a little firmly. “You’re still in that floaty place, as you called it.”

“No, Tom.” You laughed. “I feel floaty, I didn’t go anywhere.” You giggled.

“You did and now I need you to come back.” He tried again.

“Tom, you’re being silly.” You laughed again, “I’m right in front of you.” You said, “see you’re touching me.” You continued as you gestured to his hands on your shoulders. Tom didn’t miss your tone, your bratty tone, he changed tactic, eyebrow raising in challenge.

“What did you just call me?” Tom asked, voice demanding, the same tone he used when he was ‘punishing’ you in bed. He watched as you smirked.

“I called you silly.” You challenged and Tom hummed as he backed you into the wall.

“Are you being a brat princess? Are you sure that’s what you want to go with right now? You’re making it sound like you want me to punish you.” He said, lips close to yours as his breath fanned your face, your breath hitching as you shook your head.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t want to misbehave anymore.” You said and Tom looked you directly in the eyes.

“Then I want you to come back.” He spoke, voice laced in a tone that had told you to ‘get on the bed’, ‘cum for me.’ He watched as an understanding flashed across your eyes and Tom continued. “Come on princess, I need you to come back. I need my Y/N.” He whispered as he captured your lips in his own. “It would make me happy if you did.” He finished.

He watched as your eyes became less vacant, slowly coming back as he coaxed you out with well placed kisses and demands. It wasn’t long before your hand wound into his hair and Tom sighed in relief as his head found your neck.

“That was fucking weird.” You snorted, voice completely your own.

“That’s never happened before.” Tom said as he pulled back to look at you.

“It was so strange, it’s like I needed you to be the opposite of how you are during aftercare. I just kind of stayed in subspace last night.” You rambled.

“You knew you were in subspace?”

“Well yeah, you’ve done it before but you always coaxed me out of it.” You admitted and Tom looked confused.

“What happened last night? Why didn’t it work?” Tom panicked, had he missed something?

“Don’t know.” You shrugged. “I suppose you fell asleep quicker than usual and I had one of the best orgasms I think I’ve ever had.” You said and you took in the look on Tom’s face. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up, it happens.”

“But I missed it.”

“Yeah but you still kept me safe. That’s what this is about right? Having fun and being safe. Tom you make me feel so safe, how do you think I end up in subspace sometimes, it’s a different kind of pleasure. As a sub I make myself completely vulnerable to you and you make me feel so safe and wanted and the level of trust I have in you is off the charts and sometimes it just happens, sometimes I drift off.”

“Maybe we pushed it too far.” Tom said as he took your hand in his, placed a kiss to the back of your injured hand. “I couldn’t protect you from this.”

“Tom,” you sighed. “The burn was a mistake, you can’t protect me from everything. If you’re worried I regret what we did last night because of this then don’t be. I don’t regret anything we’ve tried and I trust you, okay? Remember that one time I used the safe word and you stopped immediately and took care of me?” You asked and Tom nodded.

“This is something that does take an element of trial and error, getting fully used to everything that can happen. You took care of me, you brought me back, Tom I trust you completely with me.” You continued. “I’ve never given myself over to someone the way I have you and I’m glad, I’m glad I get to experience these things with you and I wouldn’t change it or you for the world.”

“I promise I won’t miss it next time.” Tom reassured and you smiled as you kissed him.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x female reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic

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some-messed-up-writing-for-you · 3 years ago

Text

A lot of people wanted a part two of #2, so here it is! (Also thank you for all the kind words I really appreciate it!🥺💖)

Request #6

Warning: non-con touching (nothing sexual), slight body horror, abuse, one-sided attraction.

Honestly, I remember that with #2 I really did have some kind of breakthrough or something lmao. It just came out so good! And this continuation? Well, let's just say that as I was writing it, I got my own stomach to twist a little bit. ;]

Enjoy, dearest anons!

Part 1 here | Next Part

~~~~

Hero's legs burned as they ran with all their might, turning another corner. The halls of Supervillain's lair were like a maze. Everything looked identical no matter where they went. The hero could take twenty different turns and would still be met with the same dead end.

This was bad, very bad. Hero had to get out. They had to get away. The monster- The monster was after them. They had to find an exit, because if the monster caught them...

Hero shivered at the thought but refused to give up just yet. There had to be an exit somewhere! There just had to be! Because if there wasn't one then Hero- then Hero was as good as dead-

The same dead end again. Except this time, the hall leading up to it was much longer. And... And at the end of it was...

"N-No... no, no, no, NO, NO, NONONONONONONONONONONONONO!" - Hero turned on their heel and ran, tears falling from their eyes as their body shook in terror, lungs burning in need of more air. The corner they had turned just moments ago was gone now. There was only one long hallway. Hero could only run forward and nowhere else. They could not leave the monster's line of sight.

They spared a quick glance behind themself.

A mistake.

The monster's face was millimeters from their own, and Hero looked into one of its many eyes.

Another mistake.

Without warning, the hero's mind screamed in agony. They grabbed their head, forgetting that they were running and falling to the ground with a loud thud. They clawed at their temple, trying to get the abnormal pain out of it. Hero realized they were still looking into the monster's eyes. They tried to look away but couldn't. They- They couldn't move.

Their body refused to cooperate. They continued to stare deep into the monster's dark orbs, and as the beast neared them, they pleaded, they begged, they screamed for it to stop.

But the monster was silent, one of its clawed hands grabbing Hero's head, bringing them closer. The pain only worsened as the distance between them shortened.

Hero was apologizing now. What were they even saying 'sorry' for? They didn't know, but maybe it would help? Maybe that's what the beast wanted to hear from them?

The pain only grew. And Hero-

Hero awoke, gasping for air as their entire body shuddered with leftover terror. Where were they? They opened their eyes, but there was only darkness. W-Why? Why was it so dark-

The blindfold. That's right... Hero's eyes were covered so that they couldn't see. They took in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm themself, but it didn't help much.

They decided to focus on their other senses, feeling what was beneath them with their hands. It was soft and warm. Hero found the feeling rather pleasant. The arms around their waist were also quite comforting.

...

Wait, arms? W-WHAT ARMS-

"Did you have a bad dream, darling?" - a voice softly sounded in Hero's ears. They shivered as one of their captor's clawed hands trailed up and down their side, their hold tightening just a fringe.

"S-Supervillain... W-What are you d-doing..?" - they asked, worried confusion taking over their face. Why was Supervillain back already? Hero couldn't have slept for that long! They- What... What even was that dream just now?

Reading their thoughts, the supervillain answered, "Oh, I just happened to get done with work a bit sooner than planned today." - the monster started, nuzzling their face into the hero's hair, adoring their scent. "And, well... You just looked so cute sleeping in my bed. I simply couldn't resist cuddling you~. "

Hero had to resist another shiver trying to move through them. They were just... sleeping on top of the criminal for.. well, who knows how long! And Supervillain... Had they been watching them sleep? Hero couldn't stop the shiver that time.

The monster's grip suddenly tightened but stopped just short of hurting the small hero in their grasp. Said hero's entire body froze. A pit grew in their stomach as Supervillain pulled them closer and whispered lowly in their ear, "What was your dream about, little hero?"

There was an edge to their voice, Hero noticed. Were they angry? B-But why?! Hero hadn't even done anythi-

The dream.

The hero inhaled sharply as a realization hit them. It wasn't a dream. They- They remembered now- IT- IT WASN'T A-

A clawed hand suddenly gripped Hero's neck. They could only whine, terrified as the supervillain's grip threatened to cut off their air. A deep growl echoed in their ear, the monster's hold tightening even more and becoming painful.

"S-Supervillain, please- I-" - Hero never finished as another hand clamped over their mouth, keeping them quiet. Where did the third hand even come from? They didn't know nor needed to, as they had more pressing matters at hand.

"He̠̋ro... My l̟͊ittl̨̉e ̾͢H̺̾ė͈ro... ͛ͅỶͅoụ̿ tr̺̚ǐ̞e͂ͅd ̪̾t͓͑o r̰͕͊̍ư̥̟͈̝̅̆̓̍͢n̤̩̟͓̯͆̒̀͠͝ a̍ͅw̡̲̫̘̣͚̩̆̈͐̌̋̀͝a̹̜͙̎̿̄y͕͡ ." - Supervillain's voice had grown octaves deeper. It sounded... corrupted as it echoed in Hero's ear. It made their head hurt. They shook once more as a familiar pain brushed against the edges of their mind.

"Y̘̋ou th͚̆o̜͘ug͘͜h̖̽t͕̀ ͍̄y͕̒o̤̕u c̪̐oul̲̿d ̯͆j̮̎ust ̥̀g̙̈et awa̛͖y, ͇̇hm̓͟m?" - Hero could practically feel the other's anger- no, rage filling the room. It felt suffocating, it was making them struggle to breathe. Or was it the hand at their throat squeezing too tightly? They couldn't tell. Everything was starting to hurt. That- That pain from before- It was all coming back-

Hero whimpered against the hand at their lips as more arms came seemingly out of nowhere. They still couldn't see anything. They could only feel them wrapping around their small form, slowly crushing them.

The hero felt the tears flowing down their face, their terror growing as the grip on their neck tightened, just a pinch away from choking them. They could only breathe through their nose, and it hurt. It hurt so much. Everything hurt so, so much. Their heart was hammering against their ribcage, trying to get out. They- They couldn't get out- They couldn't- They-

They screamed as sharp teeth wrapped around their neck, about to bite.

Hero tried to struggle against the monster. They writhed and fought, but their body didn't even budge. Not even their head moved. They screamed out loud but were muffled. So they screamed inside their mind, crying out, begging, making promises the hero knew they would regret making.

But nothing worked. They could feel Supervillain's teeth slowly sinking into them, breaking their skin with ease. They tried to jerk their head away one more time, but it did nothing. Nothing worked, there was nothing they could do.

They grimly realized just how powerless they were, and even though it changed nothing, they squeezed their eyes shut, and went limp in the monster's hold, submitting to them. Only muffled sobs escaped the hero, their head empty of thoughts or pleas. Hero-

Hero-

Hero flinched as a gentle kiss landed on their neck. The razor-sharp teeth from before were now gone. They whined, confused and scared. They didn't understand.

The many arms holding them loosened their grip, the hand around their throat released completely but did not leave. The hero gasped for the precious air their lungs were demanding as the hand on their mouth pulled away. However, once they got a good lungful of oxygen, the hand moved back to cover their mouth. A whimper left Hero as its fingertips brushed against their face, a weak "Please..." managed to slip past their lips, their voice cracking, broken, and petrified.

But Hero's plea was for nothing. They shook as the hand covered their mouth once more but said nothing else. A shiver ran down their spine as a trail of more gentle kisses was left upon their neck, the last one underneath the hero's ear, in which Supervillain whispered, "Do you understand now, little hero?"

The monster's voice was back to normal, but Hero's stomach twisted into knots regardless. Not awaiting an answer, the supervillain continued, "Do you understand that I'm in charge here? That I'm choosing to be nice to you?"

The hand laying on Hero's throat squeezed once more, just the slightest amount, and they froze at the feeling, more sobs threatening to rip out of them. "I could do so many terrible things to you, little hero. And yet, in the three months that you've been here, I've never actually hurt you, now have I?"

Their throat was released a second time, and Hero couldn't deny it. Supervillain could do whatever they wanted with them. They could easily hurt them or- or use them. But they hadn't. The entire time that the hero had been here, the supervillain was always very gentle towards them. Perhaps they scared them every once in a while, but Supervillain never did anything... extreme...

"A smart conclusion as always, Hero~." - the way the supervillain said Hero's name made them shudder. They were still helpless in their grasp, but at least they were no longer on the verge of having a heart attack.

Supervillain chuckled as they read the hero's mind. They left another kiss on their neck, before continuing, "Will you play nice now, little hero~?"

"I-I will." - Hero answered in their mind.

"Good~." - the monster purred. "That means that you'll keep all those promises you made a few minutes ago, right?" - they asked with a grin, and Hero froze once more, their muscles tensing in new fear.

"Mmm, what was it that you promised again..?" - Supervillain mused, pretending not to remember, just so that they could smell their hero's fright in the air. "You promised to... do anything I asked for~?"

Another whine escaped Hero as their body began to shake against the other's. The arms holding them tightening. The hand at their throat squeezing again. A few small, still muffled sobs escaped them as Supervillain's sharp teeth brushed against their ear, "Well, Hero?" - the monster pressed.

"I-I I'll do whatever you w-want, j-j-just... P-Please just don't h-hurt me." - even inside their mind, Hero's voice still broke and quivered. They whimpered as Supervillain relaxed their hold once again, their various hands now caressing and petting the hero's body. "Oh, of course I won't hurt you, Hero..."

The blindfold around Hero's eyes suddenly got torn away, and they opened their eyes out of reflex. At first, they thought nothing had changed, as there was darkness all around them. But then their brain registered all the eyes around them. They noticed the darkness surrounding them moved unlike normal shadows but rather like living flesh. Out of the corner of their eye, they could see that the giant mass around them was connected to Supervillain's body.

Hero tried to close their eyes in their terror but found that they couldn't. They could only stare wide-eyed, breathing growing unsteady as a hand somehow formed in the dark, a terrible sound of wet flesh squelching and bones cracking echoing across the entire room.

They whimpered as the new hand cradled their cheek, thumb wiping away some of their tears, all the eyes focused on them as the monster finished their sentence,

"...No̼͡t̠̾ uṋ̓l̳̔eś̼s̩̽ ̫͋yo̻͞u ̮́ģ͒ive m̙̏e a r̮̂e̾͜a̺̽ṡ͎on̎͢ ̧͂ṱ̾o."

And then, at last, the sweet embrace of slumber overtook Hero's body and mind.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #hero x supervillain #supervillain x hero #supervillain #hero #writing #writeblr #request prompts #prompt request #request #prompt #writing prompt

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1kook · 4 years ago

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attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v wc; 4.6k

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #jjk♡#jeon jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts jungkook #mine

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jadequeen88 · 4 years ago

Text

Smart Girls Make Fast Learners

NSFW 18+ ONLY. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

My contribution to the BNHarem’s monthly collab. The theme was SEx work. ⛓This piece is a first real deep dive into darker themes and was actually really, really exciting to write. 🖤 A massive thanks to my dear friend @libiraki for beta reading this.

TW: yandere behavior, toxic relationship, degradation, non-con, dub-con, degradation/praise kinks, mind break, oral (M and F receiving), over stim, loss of virginity, mentions of physical violence.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone this type of relationship. This is a work of fiction and if this happens IRL please get out of the relationship!

There is a very specific type of dread that occurs when you discover that the person you built your world around has been lying to you. Tamaki Amajiki was experiencing this brand of betrayal for the first time in his twenty-one years on a rainy Tuesday in October in the dim lighting of your dorm room. His grip tightened around the open laptop as he stared at glimpses of flesh in the thumbnails of the many, many videos posted to the site. Previous live streams with thousands of views. He gulped down the bile in his throat as he scrolled through the videos. His shock and disgust morphed into a pure rage as he counted up the live streams that you’d had since first kissing him. 12. There had been twelve. Three times a week for the past four weeks.

Those big doe eyes that looked into his eyes as you tentatively licked the tip of his cock for the first time… mere hours later they were rolling in the back of your head as you got off for strangers on the internet. He couldn’t take it. You were his first… everything… he knew that you hadn’t been innocent in your past. The way your tongue expertly wound around his when you first kissed him amongst your plush pillows and goose-down comforter reminded him of the fact. The low violet LED lighting of your bedroom made him feel like the two of you were in your own ethereal world. He could forgive you for not waiting for him as he’d waited for you.

For the past four years, he kept to the shadows. He was there when the football player from freshman year cheated on you with one of your terrible friends (and when it happened the second, third, fourth time). He was there to binge your favorite shows with you (“*insert current guy you were fucking* just doesn’t get it, he’s not into it. I’m so glad I’ve got you to watch it with!”) He bit back the heartache that would wash over him when you’d pet him and coo over him… you didn’t see him as a man. He wanted to bend you over and prove he could fuck your brains out. He KNOWS he’d be perfect for you. But he never rejected the attention. He smiled and accepted whatever crumbs fell from your table. Whether it be helping you study or letting you complain about your shitty friends or your shitty jock boyfriends or your shitty parents… He gave and gave and gave… until that one day, 35 days ago to be exact, a shift in the tide occurred.

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“So why don’t you have a girlfriend, Tama-kun?”

“Wh-wha?”

Tamaki dropped the pencil he’d been using and before he could bend to get it himself, your hand was on his thigh and he was putty in your grasp. You giggled and cooed over him like you always did, but this time you did it while assaulting his mouth and neck with your skilled tongue. This time, for the first time, you made Tamaki feel like a man. Like YOUR man.

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Over the next few weeks, Tamaki had become quite skilled in pleasing a woman. It only took a little guidance to have him sucking at your clit with just the right amount of pressure. He learned on his own how to couple that with his long, delicate fingers twisting and pumping in and out of your slick hole. You’d cling to his silky hair, pulling him closer as a constant stream of praise tumbled from your lips:

“No one has ever made me feel this good.”

“Your fingers are perfect Tama-kun”.

“I love your mouth on me so much, baby.”

The first time you came on his face, Tamaki knew there was a god because he’d found heaven between your thighs.

But that was gone now… ripped away with one mouse click on the night he was going to finally give you his virginity. He had held on to it like it was a treasure. A treasure he’d present to you one day wrapped up in life-long devotion and worship... But Tamaki wasn’t in heaven anymore. He wasn’t going to worship you tonight. For the first time since laying eyes on you, Tamaki wanted to hurt you.

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You turned the shower off and dried yourself. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt like this was going to be the first time giving your body to someone. Tonight was a redo. You were wiping the slate clean. Your first time would no longer be underneath the football captain in the passenger seat of his truck, left feeling sore and unsatisfied. It was going to be with the guy you should have noticed long ago. It would be soft and slow… passionate and filled with sweet words and caresses… limbs tangled in soft sheets that smell like lavender and vanilla.

You applied your lotion and moisturized your face. The red lace adorning your body was arranged perfectly, accentuating the soft swell of your hips and chest. With one last glance in the mirror and adjustment of your bra, you opened the door to the cool air of your dorm room…

...And saw Tamaki looking murderous.

His eyes slowly left the screen to meet your gaze. His tear-stained face had never looked this harsh. His normally sweet eyes were narrowed and red from crying. The sweet lips you’d licked and sucked with such tenderness were hard and cold as they pulled upward in a grimace.

The only thing he said before rising from the bed and setting aside your laptop was your camgirl username. Then he was on you before you could draw a breath to explain.

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Tamaki always thought he liked you best on top of him showering him with kisses and threading your fingers through his hair, but he had to admit… having your arms tied to a bed frame with the silky sash of your bathrobe cutting into your skin was doing things to him. When you sniffled, face stained with tears and snot, his dick twitched in his boxers. The whines you were choking back behind the silky red panties stuffed down your throat sent chills up his spine. You had to learn the hard way not to spit them out after a harsh slap echoed against your skin when you fought back the first time.

Tamaki stood back to survey the mess of skin, spit, and tears for a moment. You were a blank canvas for him to mark up with his rage and lust. You tried to hide away your bare pussy by clenching your thighs together. It only spurred him on.

“Do you have any clue what you’ve done?” he hovered over you, sleek muscles rippling over your own soft body, “I waited, and waited, and WAITED,” he bit down on the side of your exposed neck and you screamed behind the silky gag, trying your best not to expel it from your mouth and receive more punishment.

“I want to give you everything, Y/N,” he licks over the bite, almost apologetically, “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want it to happen like this… FUCK, why?! Why did you ruin this?” his long fingers dug into your cheeks as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze. You couldn’t help whimpering and sniffling back more clear runny snot. You were so humiliated at how disheveled and disgusting you must look. His head ducked into the soft spot between your neck and shoulder and you felt him sob.

Despite the abuse he’d inflicted upon you in the last ten minutes, you nuzzled your cheek into the top of his head in an attempt to comfort him. And he let you… he hated himself for it and he hated you for making this all so hard for him.

“No… no, no, no,” he rose from the bed to set up your ring-light and laptop, ice running through your veins at the sight. Your mind couldn’t accept what was about to happen.

“I’m... I’m not letting you get away with this,” he shook his head and pulled at his hair as he finished setting everything up, “If you’re insisting on being a slut, you’ll be MY slut. And everyone will know…” he jerked your ankle to force you flat on your back.

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Maybe if he’d let the gag out of your mouth, you’d be able to tell him this was just a job to you. That it was clinical… that he was the only one who had ever been able to get you off, that his face was the only one you’d come on… that you needed the money since your parents had disowned you…

But you only laid there, accepting whatever he was going to dish out. You knew he was hurt. You weren’t stupid. You overlooked him while knowing how he felt about you. It took years of horrible one-night stands and countless frat parties pretending that whatever guy you’d picked that night was interesting for you to come to your senses. You hated yourself for being so blind for so long… You adored Tamaki, truly. And you hated yourself for all the times you’d hurt him… so you swallowed your fear and tried to prepare yourself for whatever came next.

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Any soft parts of Tamaki that you’d grown to love were gone, hardened by heartache and desperation. After angling the laptop to get the perfect shot, he started the live stream countdown. Subscribers started trickling in, commenting on how this was a pleasant surprise since it wasn’t one of your regularly scheduled streams. You shut your eyes to pretend this wasn’t real.

Without fanfare or warning, Tamaki ripped apart your thighs, exposing your bare slit. A raw shrill was pulled from your lungs, your back arching from the sting of an abrupt slap. Neurons fired off in your brain… were you in pain? Was it pleasure?

“Since my girlfriend likes to keep secrets from me, I can’t trust what comes out of her whore mouth,” he emphasized his point by stuffing his fingers past your lips, pushing the soaked silk further into your throat, “So she’s going to keep this gag right here until I can fuck the truth out of her,” he trailed his fingers along your reddened folds. Were you getting wet? Horror and shame blossomed in your chest. The fact that you were growing aroused wasn’t lost on Tamaki. His foreign, sadistic grin was back… aimed directly into your soul.

“So that’s what you like, huh?” His nails bit into your thighs leaving tiny crescents behind, “I’ve been too nice? Too soft?” He pushed your thighs impossibly wide, the stretch causing you to moan. He hovered over your core, onyx orbs blown wide with a mix of hate and lust. Tamaki looked like the devil himself and you wondered just how fucked up you were for wanting his punishment.

He opened his mouth and lolled out his tongue, never severing the desperate gaze you both shared, his intertwined with hunger, yours with fear. You’d never noticed how long and thick his tongue was and couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel caressing every ridge and crevice of your inner walls. He flattened the warm, wet muscle and pressed it along your slit. As he slowly slid it closer and closer to your burning clit, you whimpered and bucked your hips chasing the pleasure you knew he was capable of giving… but this was not your sweet boy and he wasn’t doing any of this for your pleasure.

He slung his arm over your lower stomach and growled into your drenched lips. You were pinned down, helpless against his torturous tongue. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered how he’d let you pet him and buck into his face, how sweetly he’d ease you into a gentle release. Not this time… it was all teeth and sharp sucks, his tongue forcing you open violently. You were being shoved over a cliff and despite the horror and violence of what was happening to you. You were approaching an orgasmic state at record speed. Tamaki caught on and doubled down. The arm that wasn’t pinning you into the mattress pulled your leg down straight, your knee in a death grip. The new angle made the sensations even more intense. His face pressed harder into your core and you noticed that at some point, he’d started weeping, small sobs vibrating against your skin. The overwhelming mix of emotions and the vigor in which he was eating you shoved you over the edge.

He kept going along at the same speed with the same determination through your orgasm until it became painful. You pushed past it as best you could, allowing him to sob into your over-sensitive skin until he had his fill. As the pain started intermingling with pleasure, your legs shook and the gag couldn’t hold your screams back any longer. You released against his tongue once more, both of you sobbing. He laid against your thigh for what felt like an eternity before he lifted himself to lay on top of you, his hip bones digging into your soft thighs. You could feel the bulge through the thin material of his boxer briefs. Your hips rose to meet it, a pleading gesture filled with the desire to comfort and please him. Your eagerness encourages his mercy, there’s a meek cry that leaves your lips when the damp silk slips from between your teeth.

“Please baby… I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you…” your voice was as weak as a kitten’s cry and Tamaki couldn’t deny it made his heart (his dick) clench.

“Say it…” his lips were close enough to kiss, but you resisted… fearful of what he’d do if you did.

“Say what, Tama?” your eyes were wide with concern and confusion. You were desperate to please him.

He turned your face to the camera that you’d forgotten was there and the gravity of the situation crashed around you again. New tears leaked from your stinging eyes as Tamaki whispered into your ear.

“Say that you’re a lying whore…”

“I..I’m a lying whore…”

The last syllable broke as your abused throat grew accustomed to speaking again. He rewarded you with a soft kiss to your cheek and your eyes closed at the tender gesture. The familiar pain in your chest welled to the surface causing even more tears to escape.

“And tell everyone that you’re my own personal slut”

You repeated the phrase to the audience behind the screen and he hummed with approval, trailing one finger along your wet cheek.

“Good girl…” the praise sent shivers through your wrecked body.

“And tell them from now on, your boyfriend will be the only one making you come… that they only get to see you be HIS slut.”

You noticed the chat going absolutely haywire at your announcement. Before Tamaki shut your laptop, you realized you’d made three times as much as you’d ever made before and a twisted sense of accomplishment filled your cloudy mind.

“Please,” your voice came out in a croak, “Please untie me. I wanna make it up to you,” his clothed bulge was burning into your core and you could tell he was close to breaking.

“Please let me make you feel good. I’m so, so sorry,” the clench of your thighs around his waist made him whimper.

He reluctantly pulled away to sit on the foot of the bed. The way he curled in on himself hugging his knees made him appear so small, so fragile… a complete change from the man who’d just manhandled you into restraints.

“You’re a liar…” you almost didn’t hear the whisper, his face buried into his knees.

“Please!” you were losing feeling in your hands and all you wanted was to be free to comfort him.

His eyes met yours and it was your Tamaki again... Your sweet boy… the snarling, green beast that threatened to devour you was sleeping now after it reached its fill of violence. He crawled over your body and released your restraint. Before you even regained feeling in your hands, you wrapped your arms around him. You littered his collarbone with sweet kisses and apologetic sobs. He began to melt into your affectionate gestures and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly close. Wet lips met and your tongues fought against each other for dominance. Hips began to roll against each other, increasing pressure until you both gasped.

The violence was gone, but this was still not a gentle coupling like you’d been planning. Tamaki pulled away and freed his straining cock from his boxers. The skin-to-skin contact made your eyes roll back into your skull. You felt his long fingers grasp your throat, squeezing to remind you just how powerful they were. You shuddered in response, arching upward into his touch, chasing that high his dominance was giving you.

With one swift motion, Tamaki speared you onto his cock. With the minimal prep he’d given you, the stretch was agonizing. This was by far the largest cock you’d ever taken and it stole your breath from your aching lungs. You moaned earning a visceral reaction from the boy on top of you.

Tamaki stayed as still as he could. He refused to come so soon… not when he’d waited so long for this. He tightened his grip on your throat and tentatively rocked his hips into yours. It didn’t take long for it to progress into the most frantic love-making you’d ever experienced.

There was no other way to describe it, he was hate fucking you… biting and sucking your chest until blood bloomed under your skin… hammering into your sore, sticky cunt with total abandon… he was using you like a toy, taking out all his frustrations on your body.

It was ecstasy.

When his hips stuttered as he met his release, the spasms of his tip against your gummy walls sent you into a painful orgasm. You were spent and it seemed like he was too. Your fingers twitched over the crown of his head, wanting to run your fingers through his hair but too scared to initiate any contact with him. As if he could read your mind, he grabbed your hand and placed it on his head. You sighed and began carding through the tangles, gently undoing them. You felt a stream of tears running down your chest as you worked your fingers through his strands. Lifting his face gently, you met his teary gaze with your own.

“Don’t…” he drew in a shuddering breath, “ever lie to me like that again…” the monster behind his eyes stirred quietly, a malicious glint in his eye, before shifting back into your gentle boyfriend.

“Never, I swear to you, baby…” he lets you lift his chin gently to meet your lips. His eyes close and he sighs into your kiss. His muscles relax and when his eyes open again, his warm, adoring expression falls over your face. The hand that wanted to choke the life out of your eyes minutes ago now caresses your jaw tenderly,

“I trust you…” his lips turn up into a grin that’s just a little too wide, “Because you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?” his top lip brushed against your still trembling bottom lip…

“Y-yes…”

You were fucked. This whole situation was fucked up and you weren’t blind to the fact. But as Tamaki nuzzled into your neck placing soft kisses and whispering praises into your skin, you let yourself bask in the gentleness of the moment…

Because you were a smart girl and smart girls learn their lessons quickly...

#bnha #bnha smut #yandere tamaki #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki x y/n #tamaki amajiki #tw:dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: injury #tw: toxic relationship #tw: dark themes

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

Text

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)

Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia

Word count: 5,138

After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.

After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today.

As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.”

“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”

You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”

You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”

He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?”

Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”

While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him.

“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”

That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”

“Do you have any blackmail?”

Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.”

“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”

You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice.

“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”

“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”

“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”

“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”

“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”

“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”

The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit.

By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat.

Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up.

After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.

Hales : )

(Y/n), I’m omw to your house

Gonna give you a ride to the school

(Y/n)

Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive

Hales : )

Don’t care

Omw, be there in like 7 mins

You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat

(Y/n)

I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one

She’s gonna give me a ride home too

Dadza

Alright, thank her for me

Tell her I said good luck too!

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Dadza

(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck you I’m a good influence

Dadza

You’re really not

Wilby

^^^^

Technology Sword

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck all of you

You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.

“Coat.”

You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”

“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”

Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”

“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”

Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back.

“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”

“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face.

“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”

You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”

You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”

The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable.

Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time.

When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team.

The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.

“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”

“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”

“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”

“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”

The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike. “HALEY NOW!”

You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!”

“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”

“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”

“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”

You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them.

The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black.

“...(y……”

“..(y/n)......”

“(Y/n).”

You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.

“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.

“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.

“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?

“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.

“Who th f-fuck… why?”

“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.

“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”

“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”

“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”

Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”

“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.

“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”

“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”

“Good, what month are we in right now?”

“Nov-November?”

“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”

“S’my dad Phillip.”

“That’s your dad Philza.”

The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop.

“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”

Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.

“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”

“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.

She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them.

“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against.

“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.

“Tech?”

“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”

When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym.

“S’better.”

“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”

“Wilbs-”

“Focus on walking.”

You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”

You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”

When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.”

You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle?

After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.

“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you?

“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up.

“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”

“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”

“Mm. Makes sense.”

“Let’s get you in the car hun.”

As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner.

When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”

“Car.”

After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you.

“(Y/n), what do you remember?”

You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”

You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”

“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”

“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”

After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.

“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”

“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”

As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.

For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.”

“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”

The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”

“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”

“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”

You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@jabby16

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@immadatmostthings @thaticecreambish @hee-hee-haw @dearnataliealoveletter @wasteofspacze @dcml04 @bbigbbrainn @dirtydiavolo @vanhakirja @rinzyx05 @misselsbells06 @ialexabsuniverse @im-a-depressed-gay @energy-drinkk @mothra-main @i-need-hugs @dragons-lurk-here @katj733 @m4r-s @vievi @dykeragee @waterstrawberry @aplaintart @kakamiissad @myunfinishedsymphony @nagitokinnieissad @autumnpleaves @justanothergirlwithdemons @zachariethememerie @moon-asia @m0on-blue @strawberrysodababy @akikko-yataro @haikkeiji @shiningsunrises @cinnamonmochi @queen-turtle-boiii @imanewsoul @sparkling-gayyyy @angelicaschuyler-church @vixenfoxpup @ella-ivanov @shio-yuki @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks @sugarandspicebutnonice @coolayee @haikkeiji @sadassflatass

@a-simp-for-block-people @goldenstarofthunderclan @laura--444 @sylumarts @faceache111 @auroraskyfall @kusuinko @http-issaclahey @angelic-scent @multifandomgirl94 @mirios-sunflower @lifestylesleep @altwitchtrash @queenbouncingjelly @eieminia @livie-bug82108 @cheybaee @demure--daisy @midnight-storm @moonbaejpeg @kiinokochii @miavfx @vilbur-s00t @coreybyrg @comfytastic @kodababygirl-blog @artisticfandomtrash @yourlmanburg @indigopocky @futuitsursum @luluwinchester @hello-there556 @kike-jii @kalipto

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago

Text

Jaehyun’s Body | Jung Jaehyun

▸ Jaehyun x reader ▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Demon Jaehyun, Prostitute reader ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 5/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers

Summary: Jaehyun is a demon who uses girls to make him stay handsome. He eats girls… literally. Then he met you and he can’t eat you because he’s in love with you.

Word count: 7K

Warnings: Sex, sex, sex, a lot of killings, mentions of killings, Blood, lots and lots of blood, killings again, then another killings, eating of human flesh, filthy (I’m telling you), all kinds of sex, swearing, abduction, mentions of eating children but he stopped don’t worry, pregnancy, murder, attempted murder, suicide (?), prostitution, mentions of sex club, depression, mentions of therapy, mentions of cheating

A/N: Pure fiction, we all know that Jaehyun doesn’t need girls to make him handsome. I made this filthier than ever because it’s my last fic for 127 House. I made a timestamp for this as a bonus preview so if you already read it, yay. Inspired by the movie Jennifer’s Body and Pretty Woman. I changed the ending last minute I hope you wont hate me. Also, I’m sure a lot of you want to read more Jaehyun eating girls, literally, in action. So I will just make another timestamp for that in the next few days.

Taglist: For the last time, if I happen to forget you I’m so sorry :( @chocolattees @floweringtheflowers @huangxx @bumblebeenct @neosculptures @kooksfairyfloss @jaehyunoos @soothingjae @plump-peach @neospirited @jeongyoonohs @shanghai-lu @seriousballoon @sunshinedhyuck @the-universe-in-you-jjh @mira-winterlight @generantionct @mal-nakamoto23 @svteencarat @johnjaespeach @jinsonaz @hyuckshoe69

Halloween present time

“Mom, can you tell me the story about the monster who eats humans just so he can look like one too?” your nine-year-old daughter snuggles beside you on a Halloween night, tired from trick or treating and already sleepy.

“Just because it’s Halloween” you boop her nose and kept her close to you, stroking her head and making her comfortable.

“Once upon a time, there were five teenagers who want to make a deal with the devil. The clueless teenagers did not know that what they were doing was wrong. Meaning, wrong methods, wrong sacrifice.

Given that they don’t know what they were doing, they singlehandedly or accidentally brought a creature into this world. The bothered creature that was summoned ate the teenagers as the creature was so confused, why was he bothered in his own torture cell in hell?

It starved for days, lost in a world that’s not familiar to him. He fed himself with every human who crosses paths with him, men, women, and children. Until it finally knew that eating humans can make him look just like them.

The creature adapted in this world, living like a normal human and walking amongst us, still not knowing how to go home. “

Halloween many many many years ago

“And that creature is me. Happy Halloween class, enjoy the night” Jaehyun finishes his story in front of his class. Watching every student laugh and shrug his ‘scary’ story for Halloween. They thought he was joking, and that was the fun part Jaehyun thought.

“See you on our next session Mr. Jung” a flirty young girl waved goodbye to him, smiling like she wanted to get on her knees and suck Jaehyun's cock right then and there.

“Enjoy Halloween” he winked back at her and proceed to fix his things and leave the classroom.

It was exactly a decade ago when those stupid teenagers brought him to this world. He didn’t have much of a choice but to live like a normal human to save himself. Feed from their flesh, kill every two weeks and get on with life as if nothing gruesome happened inside his house.

Jaehyun targets girls, women in their early twenties or older. He stopped eating children only because the effect on him does not stay for long. Whereas, eating older people can last two weeks max. Luring girls was never hard for Jaehyun because he’s naturally handsome, but without human flesh, he returns to the disgusting creature he used to be.

Tinder is his go-to restaurant. A little swipe right over here, a swipe right over there, and voila! He now has a tasty dinner and for Halloween night, perfect to celebrate his existence here in this world.

As part of his adaptation in this world, he learned how to cook human meals for his victims. Feeding them good food before he eats them. In the middle of cooking in his big kitchen, his doorbell rang assuming that it’s his food that just arrived. He opened his door with a smile, welcoming the young lady inside his beautiful house, smelling her for some time during the hug. Delicious, he thought.

“Wow. Your house is big” the clueless girl exclaims. It’s always the same, every girl who steps inside his house is always amazed at how beautiful 127 House is. It’s white interior always captures the ladies’ hearts and leave them in awe.

“I hope you’re hungry. I made dinner for us” he gave the girl a flirty smile, flashing those cute dimples of his that always make the girls smile.

During dinner, Jaehyun can’t rush his meal and get on with the kill already. He is patient and takes time to know what he’s about to eat. He asks a lot of questions to gain the girl’s trust and fool her that Jaehyun is actually into her. “Do you do drugs?” the most important question for the night. Jaehyun hates eating humans who do drugs because it has a side effect on him as if his body can’t handle the drugs itself that it makes him weak on the spot. So much for being a creature from hell.

“No, I don’t do drugs. Do you?” the girl answered with wide eyes.

“No no. I’m clean” he smiled and put his hand on the girl’s thigh. Slowly caressing it until Jaehyun reaches her damped panties. “Can you open your legs for me?” Jaehyun’s irresistible request made the girl open her legs a little wider under the table. Rolling her head side to side as she feels Jaehyun’s cold fingers brushing on her clothed clit.

It’s time, Jaehyun thought. Dinner is served.

He pushed the plates away, glasses clinking, utensils started to fall from the table. Jaehyun carried her and put her on the dinner table, kissing her wildly to put the girl in the mood and make her horny. It always works. While he’s busy kissing her, his hands slowly remove her panties and spread her legs a little rough and push her on the dinner table.

“We really doing this here?” the girl asks.

“This is the perfect place to eat you”

The girl smiles and felt excited because a handsome man like Jaehyun is about to eat her pussy. Little did she know, that Jaehyun will quite do it literally. He planted kisses on her inner thighs, making the girl moan and tickle her in the meantime. Jaehyun runs a finger on her slit and make her legs shiver, licking his finger as if he’s having a taste of his dinner.

“Eat me already” she protests. Jaehyun chuckled low and puts two fingers inside her before he makes a move.

Jaehyun’s first lick from her pussy makes his head turn and breathe heavily for the girl he’s about to eat tonight tastes delicious. He licks and licks the girl, not listening to her moaning, not minding if she’s calling his name. The way he licked the girl was like he was having ice cream on a hot summer, sucking her arousal and putting pressure on her clit. Unaware of what’s happening to the girl, he didn’t care if she already came and overstimulated. Jaehyun continued licking his dinner even though the girl is pushing him already, but still having the time of her life.

She then felt Jaehyun bite her clit and made her shout a little too loud that her voice echoed around 127 House. She propped her shoulder and saw Jaehyun’s eyes turned plain black. He smiled at her making the girl shout in horror and shout for her life but Jaehyun’s tongue is making her cum again for the second time tonight, harder than the first one she had.

And that’s Jaehyun’s cue to eat her. Bit her off. Letting her blood pool around his dinner table. He ate her flesh by flesh, sipping every drop of her blood, chewing all her intestines, licking the flavor off her skin like an animal. He can feel himself glow as he continues to eat her.

Pouring himself a glass of his favorite wine, he looks at his reflection through the goblet and admires his handsomeness. Skin clearer as ever, eyes without dark circles, firm ass. He smiled to himself as he feels much more alive and young now. Jaehyun went back to the dead body on his table, kissing the girl on the cheek and thanking her for making him handsome.

That is Jaehyun’s life for the past decade. Murder to survive, eat humans, earn money, and repeat it. No thrill. Even getting caught is no fun for him because he can easily eat the witness. But living in this world full of emotions and Jaehyun is indeed a curious demon, he wanted to try to fall in love. Maybe he wants it because he’s been eating girls who are desperate for love and that’s making him desperate too. You see when he eats humans, he eats their emotions too and in that way, he learned feeling things. Anger, fear, happiness. All kinds.

Three weeks after Halloween, he found this one of a kind service that he’s very much interested in. Just like every other human who likes their food clean, Jaehyun likes his human clean too.

We offer house services just contact us and book someone you prefer. We guarantee clean and respectful girls....

Reading the brochure of that sex club who offers special services is like reading a menu in an expensive restaurant. Maybe it’s time to give up Tinder, stop ordering cheap food, and start feeding on expensive ones.

Just in time for his feeding again, the university kept him busy and so he did not have time to eat and settle for human food instead. That’s why he looks awful now. His hair is starting to fall out, his fair skin has acne, dark circles under his eyes, some of his toenails are falling off. He’s becoming weak, and he needs to eat soon.

“Y/n honey, you have a schedule for tonight. A big spender this one.... huh. He paid an overnight promo and even gave you a tip. Wow he’s rich”

As you listen more of the details from the lady at the front desks, you thanked the man mentally who gave you a generous tip that will go straight to your savings, rent, and water bill. Not that you love this job of yours, but you’re excited to meet the big spender and treat him well just so he can get his money’s worth.

While you were drying your hair, you heard your phone ding and it was from your client whom you look forward to meeting. “I’ll send an uber from your house to mine. See you later” it was a bit cold but usually, your clients will just send you the address and it’s your duty not to be late for the appointment. You smiled because he seems so thoughtful and a real gentleman, you became more excited about meeting him and looking forward to the sex.

When the uber driver dropped you off in front of a big white house, you thought that maybe it was a mistake that your date must have pinned the wrong address. You rang the doorbell just to make things sure. Asking never killed anybody. You wait for someone to open the door to you, biting your lower lip while scanning the outside of the beautiful house.

“You must be Y/n” the man who opened the door said. Well, that makes things official. You’re in the right place.

“Yes...uhh, sir Yoonoh?” his weak state is bothering you. He doesn’t look like he can fuck at all.

“Please call me Jaehyun. Yoonoh is my alias. Come in”

The handsome man welcomes you warmly in his home, taking your coat and putting it in a cabinet near his door. He looks handsome but exhausted, coughing a little as he closes the cabinet door. “Are you okay? You look sick” you blurted out and your first words made the man smile. Different. You’re different. You don’t care how big the house is he thought, the first thing you did is care about him. “I’m fine. The weather has been affecting me lately but, I’m good. I hope you’re hungry, I made early dinner” He gave you a weak smile and coughed again.

This customer of yours continues to surprise you. First the uber ride and now the early dinner. For the first time in your life, this wretched job doesn’t feel like a job at all. Jaehyun here made you feel like you’re here for a date and not just to fuck the whole night. You follow him to the kitchen to help him get the meals that he prepared for both of you. As much as you’re amazed by his cooking skills, you are more amazed by how he managed to cook a decent meal even though he’s weak.

Jaehyun started small talk, as usual. Asking you questions before he kills you and making sure you don’t do drugs even though it’s stated clearly that the sex club has clean girls. He made you comfortable the whole dinner time and made sure you enjoy what he cooked for you.

“What do you do outside this job of yours?” Jaehyun asked, cutting a piece of steak as he waits for your answer.

“Nothing. I’m lifeless” you joked, “I take care of myself and save as much as I can so I can have a clean start, which reminds me thank you for the generous tip”

When the air was finally dead, he put his hand on your knee, caress it softly until his hand reaches your upper thigh. You felt his hand shaking like he’s shivering but he’s not telling you. It seems like he’s forcing himself to push through having sex just so his money doesn’t go to waste. But you can’t let him. The man is obviously weak and sick, he will not enjoy the pleasure and his money’s worth.

To his surprise, you cup his face and shook your head ‘no’. “We don’t have to do this today. We’ll end up being sick together on the next day, want that to happen?” he shook his head to answer your question, “I promise I won't tell the club and I will find a way for you to get what you paid for. The dinner is delicious by the way what herbs did you put here?”

So much care for someone who kills to survive. He doesn't deserve any of your kindness. The demon is completely moved. When you were the one who initiated the small talk, Jaehyun realized how he loved sharing things that he does. Like how he likes his steak perfectly well done, he likes his alcohol old and cold, even told you that listening to Chet Baker while drinking wine is his favorite thing in the world. Talking too much about himself was never his thing when it comes to talking to his victims. Then he realized maybe you’re not one of them, that maybe for the first time he had a visitor comforting him instead of making him full.

You were the first person who listened to him. His first friend.

Talking and sharing personal stuff with one of your clients was a big ‘no’ for you. But there’s something about Jaehyun that makes you feel that your secrets are safe with him, even though all you knew about him is his love for music and wine. As the night goes deeper, you two are still talking about random stuff and laughing loudly whenever something funny came up. It was nice. You caught yourself resting your head on his weak shoulders and loved his warmth. Hearing his soft voice near your ear is almost addicting even though he sounded weak. And seeing his smile up close and poking his dimples whenever you want to is a different kind of privilege. The night went on until you fall asleep on his shoulders, unconsciously hugging him like a teddy bear and putting your leg on top of his like you’ve known each other for so long.

He was thinking deeply if he’s going to eat you or not. You are juicy for his taste, like a turkey on Thanksgiving. He removed some of your hair from your face, patting and caressing your head so he knows you’re in deep sleep. Carefully, he reached for your hand and played with your fingers, smelling it and still thinking it through. He put your pointer finger in his mouth, sucking it like a lollipop and tasting your flavor through your skin. You taste so good that his eyes turned into his demon eyes and his demon tongue is ready to taste more of you. But you smiled through the feeling of his tongue swirling around your finger and came closer to him. Unconsciously and still sleeping soundly.

He remembers how your kindness moved him, and how he felt important for the first time in his whole existence. Jaehyun shook his head and stopped attempting to eat you, wiped your fingers, and intertwined his fingers with yours instead. It’s weird how he’s so hungry but he can’t seem to kill you.

To survive, Jaehyun went to the nearest bar and lured a hooker whom he killed in the back of his house. It was his first time killing quietly in his premisses, careful not to wake you up. Even though the human that he just ate doesn’t taste good, well, he just had to look presentable in your eyes the next morning.

When you wake up, you almost jumped out of bed because you thought you were in bed with a total stranger but turns out it was just Jaehyun. His skin is glowing under the morning sunlight, his cute snores make you smile, fucking pink lips begging to be kissed or it’s you who’s begging to be kissed… you smiled and brushed his hair away, accidentally waking the handsome man.

“Morning” he murmured, pulling you for a hug and closing his eyes again but he was smiling.

Even his breath smell nice, “feeling okay now?” you asked softly, not ruining the peaceful morning and nervously smiling brightly because the butterflies in your tummy won’t stop flapping their wings.

“Yes. All thanks to you” he opened his eyes and admired your beauty. He can feel his heart thumping. “I think I owe you something” he kissed your lips passionately and pull your body above him making you put both your legs on his sides. He never left your lips as his hands roam on your sides requesting to remove your dress. With one swift move, you’re on top of the handsome man with your matching lacy underwear, bodies grinding on each other, moaning deliciously, and about to have morning sex. “I’ve seen a lot of naked girls before but none of them made me horny like you do” you giggle at what he said, if every client you had is like Jaehyun, you don’t mind staying on this wretched job forever.

It’s not that Jaehyun is a virgin. This is just his first time having sex without killing the one he’s fucking. Watching you cum above and underneath him without going in for the kill was satisfying and almost addicting. Not to mention that your walls feel amazing around his cock. Warm and tight that he never wants to pull out from you.

You, on the other hand, is so surprised by how Jaehyun is so great in bed like he was craving sex. Every lustful thrust he gives makes you gasp and it just takes your breath away. The way he held your leg up, fuck you deep that you’re skin to skin, makes you claw his back and grip the sheets so tightly that you hurt your hand. He never slowed down but he was not rough enough, he was making you feel good the whole fucking time that you made sounds you never thought you’re capable of. On top of that, his sweet words are making you feel things.

After the most amazing sex you both have in your entire life, he can’t let go of you even just for a second. He’s glued to your body while you make him breakfast, “Can I see you more in my clothes?” he whispered behind your ear, hands resting on the side of your waist while he distracts you with his kisses, blowing cold air on your nape to tickle you and make you giggle.

And when it’s time to go, he was begging you with all his might to stay. “I have to work, Jae” it’s true. And being with Jaehyun made you forget that you’re here for work, he completely changed that. If it wasn’t for your work you will give in and stay.

“Okay, okay. I understand. Have dinner with me this weekend? I’ll cook for you again, I’ll make it up to you” to be honest, he was afraid you might not come back here.

“Mhmm. I’d love to” you left a soft kiss on his cheek and opened his door. You are the first person who steps inside his house that comes out alive and well.

As you leave Jaehyun in his house, he was quick to call the sex club again and book you for tonight. The service was really expensive but as he talks to the person in charge of your schedule, you were worth every dime of his hard earned money from the university.

Happy about how your schedule with Jaehyun went, and happy that you met him, your friend from the front desks informed you of your new client for tonight and you screamed because of too much happiness when he used his real name to book you.

When you got home to prepare for yet another night with Jaehyun, you’ve never been so excited about meeting a client for the second time around. Thinking about how his lips travel in between the valley of your boobs the other night, that sweet handsome smile whenever he catches you looking at him, the way he makes your heart flutter during breakfast with his sweet words. This is definitely a good start to give love a chance and you’re stupid if you let something like this slip from your hands.

When the most awaited time finally came, Jaehyun was over the moon and blushing like crazy when he saw you again at his doorstep. This time, it’s not food he sees but a woman who will love him and will change his life. And if you used to smell so tasty and delicious for Jaehyun well now, you smell like love and new beginnings for him. You were the epitome of change, stepping into his house and in his whole life.

Your second night together was a hundred times better than the first even if it’s storming like crazy outside. It’s like going on an indoor date with Jaehyun, eating a delicious dinner, and drinking good wine together. Rather than having sex the whole evening, you and Jaehyun spend the night cuddling on his huge couch. Talking about life under a cozy blanket that he owns, creating your own special warmth.

“What if you became broke because of me?” you asked and snuggled closely.

“Hmm. Well, then I just have to work more. Get five jobs” he joked but he sounded serious.

“My job will be a great problem if we continue this. I don’t want to hurt you-“

“Hey, no one is hurting anyone. I respect your line of work and I understand the reason why you’re doing it. Until then I just have to wait for you just like the other guys. I have long patience, it’s not a problem” Jaehyun says and boops your nose.

And that is the start of your new life with Jaehyun. Your life is all about him and he is all about you. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. Jaehyun is still in love with the same woman who rang his doorbell and cared for him for the first time in his life. After a few months of looking for a job that does not include having sex with different men, you finally left the club and go home to Jaehyun every day.

Peaceful and quiet mornings are now replaced by Jaehyun’s disturbing kisses while you make him coffee. Leaving each other for work during the morning has been your daily struggle. But the promise of seeing each other at the end of the day is something so hard but worth it in the end.

Slowly, you changed each other’s lives. Loving each other deeply more and more, trying new things together, and loving life even when it’s incredibly tough sometimes. It was more than just flirting with each other, going on dates, and having a lot of sex.

Saying that he’s in love with you and showing it every day is still not enough for Jaehyun to prove you his love. He loves you so much that for the first time in his life he doesn’t want to go back to where he came from anymore. He wants to stay here with you. Live happily, marry you someday, have kids, and be with you until your dying breath.

“Why do you want so many kids?” you asked, drawing small circles on his toned chest while his right arm is securely wrapped around you.

“Kids are great especially when we are the ones who made them. Don’t you think?” He reached for your lips and kissed you.

“Promise me you’ll be a great dad. And you will never leave me or- or our future children alone. You’re a great man Jaehyun and my heart will break in a million pieces if you hurt me too like my dad” you were so full of emotions. You remember how your father left you and your family and it made your mother suffer. Jaehyun was quiet and he listened to you. Your feelings were so important to him so he did not dare interrupt and waited for you to finish.

“We will be happy, I promise. Watch me love you every day and fulfill all my promises to you”

The problem is... he can't tell you the truth about himself. Jaehyun is scared to the bone that you might not accept him. The truth about him is never easy to accept and he doesn’t want to give you that burden. Having a demon eating humans to survive is something unacceptable even when love is already involved. But he has faith in you. Someday, maybe he will be brave enough to tell you. But not now.

Dating you made his feeding a little hard because it’s basically cheating. He loves you so much that he despises being a demon and eating humans just to stay alive. Sometimes, he starves himself that he trie so hard to live on raw meat but it only lasts a few hours and it frustrates him greatly. He doesn’t want to meet other girls anymore and pretend that he’s interested in them, he wanted so bad to stop using Tinder. But he can’t. You don’t deserve a demon like him but he loves you and he’s sorry.

Even though you don’t know anything about Jaehyun’s real being, he never hurt you like one of your exes and he’s much a greater man than all of those jerks combined. He is the only man you see your future with, growing old together, having coffee on your porch, racking your chairs, and hopefully die together. Your heart can’t take it if Jaehyun dies before you. That’s how much you love him.

Four years ago

After a tiring day at the office, you’re so thankful that your house is quiet and peaceful, away from the noise of the city. You went straight to the bathroom, prepared the tub, and treat yourself to a nice warm bath with a glass of wine on the side.

“Y/n, you home?” Jaehyun put his keys on the table next to the entrance and removed his coat. He just came back from burying the bones of the three girls he just ate at the back of 127 House. Tricked them into having a foursome but even before they could remove their clothes, Jaehyun killed them already and ate them all until their bones are clean and easy to bury.

“In here” you shout while you put more bubbles in the tub. Jaehyun soon appeared and leaned on the bathroom door. “I just got home from work baby, hows the university?” you invited him inside and he greets you with a kiss on the cheek and proceeds to strip in front of you. For a university teacher, your boyfriend sure does look so hot.

“Nothing special. Students flirting with me, then I fail them” he giggles and joins you in the tub. Sitting behind you and pulling you against his strong chest. He plays with your wedding ring and intertwines his fingers with yours. Home is where Jaehyun is. He is the best thing about this house, coming home to him and enjoy this little world.

It was a silent moment for the two of you but you can hear him thanking you for staying in his life. Jaehyun’s eyes screams ‘i love you’ whenever he’s quiet and smirking liking this.

“Why are you always like that. You know you can always say it. Three words Jae, I love you. Were married already and you never said it to me-“

“But I always show it to you” he giggles and puts bubbles on top of your head and your cheeks, laughing because you look funny. “You will get sick of me if I start telling you those words. That’s why I show you instead. Those are powerful words Y/n, I’m saving it. Trust me, once I told you those words, you will fall in love with me. Again” he winked at you and you rolled your eyes at him. Facing him completely to clean him up.

“Do you fall in love with me over and over again whenever I tell you, I love you?” you asked. Looking in his eyes and brushing your wet lips on his. Touching. But not kissing. You can feel your boyfriend’s heartbeat so fast as you wait for his answer.

“Every time. Like you just walked into this house for the first time again” he smiled and flashed those cute dimples of his and kissed you down the tub until the water overflows and the candles are one by one dying because of the waters splashing.

Two years of happily dating through ups and downs. And two years of being happily married and you still don’t know what you did to deserve someone like Jaehyun. He’s beyond perfect. Like someone made him as a character in a book and poof he became real and find his way to you. “I love you” you whisper. And even though you won’t get a response, you know that Jaehyun does love you too.

One day, your boss made you left work early because he wanted you to go overtime the next day. So you did. You wanted to surprise your husband with his favorite take-out and spend a nice dinner with him. When you arrived in his driveway, you see his car badly parked on his huge lawn. You made your way quietly inside the house and went straight to the kitchen to put the food on the counter.

You heard continuous thumps upstairs, not quite sure from which room. As you walked towards the stairs, you heard another thump followed by a high pitched moan and, “Jaehyun! Don’t stop!” then another thump. At first, you didn’t want to walk further closer to the room where you believe Jaehyun is fucking someone because you didn’t want to see it. But you are his wife and you have every right to call him out even though it hurts you so much knowing that Jaehyun is capable of cheating. You can’t believe it.

As you peek at the door from his study room, you watch Jaehyun eat a girl’s pussy on his table. She looked young. Younger than you and maybe that’s why he cheated. The girl is very much overstimulated and can’t stay put so Jaehyun roughly holds her down while keeping her legs open. You watch Jaehyun hold her so harshly and wonder if your husband has always been into rough sex, “ouch!” she says loudly.

Jaehyun stopped licking her and proceeds to kiss her neck. At this point, you don’t know why you’re still watching your husband cheat when everything is all clear.

“FUCK!!!!!”

Hearing the girl scream like that made you stop from shouting and calling your husband a cheater. Because, lo and behold you witnessed your husband murder her. Biting her by the neck and choking her down so her body won't slip off his table. You gasped sharply when you saw Jaehyun ripped her stomach and reach in for her intestines. Covering your mouth with both of your hands as you can’t believe what you were watching. You would rather face the problem of your husband cheating on you, but murder? Devilry? Seeing him became a creature eating a human felt like you’re watching a horror movie and made you think that you don’t know Jaehyun anymore. Or did you ever?

As you watch him eat her and be scared for your life, you notice that Jaehyun’s face is slowly changing… “This can’t be” you murmured and fainted hitting your head first, making Jaehyun turn around with shock. Jaehyun didn’t know what to do. Usually, he eats the witness too but this time he can’t. Of course, he can’t eat you.

Every bit of the truth was too much for you. Even when you know that he is sincere with everything that he says to you about his true being.

You married a demon. How can Jaehyun expect you to accept this?

“Well, what did you want me to tell you? ‘I’m a demon and I eat humans to survive?’ I’m telling you now and you won't even look at me” Jaehyun was so frustrated already. It’s been a week since he told you the truth and to be honest he doesn’t know what you want him to do or to hear from him.

“It hurts me to see you all scared and disgusted to me, baby. I'm not forcing you to be with me and stay- but fuck I’m still Jaehyun. My feelings for you are true and my love for you is undying. Please don’t do this to us and don’t do this to yourself. You can leave, but please think about our years together” he kissed you on your temple and noticed that your grip on the knife is so tight that your hand is already shaking. Tears fall down your cheeks and you don’t know what it's made of. Was it because you’re scared? Heartbroken? Or confused because you don’t know what to do.

You love him but you’re scared. And that thought alone can make your knees weak and your mind go crazy.

Since you knew about the truth, your marriage went downhill and the house became cold and unwelcoming. A once fire burning relationship is now cold as ice. You decided to leave Jaehyun even when you made a promise to him. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.

For you, leaving was a mixture of loneliness, heartbreak, and disappointment. But for Jaehyun, he was lost, miserable, and incomplete. He wanted to starve himself and never eat humans from now on but he still wants to live for you. Hope and wait for you to come back in his life.

After leaving Jaehyun, you took care of yourself and went to therapy. But a few days after, you found out that you’re pregnant for almost two weeks already and once again you feel cheated in life because you could have had a family of your own and be happy in life. Just how you and Jaehyun planned it to be.

It’s Halloween tonight and Jaehyun just finished eating. He has no appetite, to be honest, and only ate a pair of arms. Then that’s it. He can’t eat the human further, still weak, and still looked like shit. He’s cleaning the mess he made on the kitchen counter, dumping a half-eaten body in a trash bag, and scrubbing blood off the floor when his doorbell rang and expected trick or treaters. He brought the bowl of candies with him, head towards the door, and opened it with a smile. But his smile was soon gone when he saw you on his doorstep, completely clueless on what to do because he wanted to hug and kiss you but he can’t.

“I shouldn’t have left you-“

Glass and candies shattered on the floor and neither one of you cared. Jaehyun hugged you tightly and apologized over and over again while he showers you with kisses. Smiling so brightly but both of you have heavy tears in your eyes.

The feeling of entering his house for the first time again after leaving him for only two weeks almost felt like the very first time. “Are you okay? You look sick” you worry for your husband and it made you feel like a shitty wife because you didn’t even consider his feelings. He was struggling too.

“Welcome home” Jaehyun sobs and pull you inside the house. He kissed you deeply and showed you how much he misses you, lifting you, and bringing you to your shared bedroom with all the strength he has left.

He removed your clothes and his clothes without leaving your lips which he missed kissing. You kept your eyes closed until you’re ready to open them again because you can’t help but see the demon who’s eating humans to survive. “It’s still me” Jaehyun whispers, kissing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. “Nothings changed, baby. I’m still the Jaehyun who paid the sex club just so I can spend time with you” he waits patiently for you to open your eyes, hoping that makeup sex will somehow fix your marriage again. You wrapped your arms around him when you feel him go in between your legs.

Slowly, you open your eyes and breathe in and out. “I’m pregnant” you whisper back, kissing him softly. He did not say anything but you know that Jaehyun is more than happy to hear the news.

“Is that why you came back? You want us to be a family?” he smiles and you answer with a quick nod. He kisses your neck all the way to your jaw, down to the valley between your boobs, and ends up in front of your pussy. At first, he was hesitating and kept on kissing your inner thighs but you seem eager, you roll hips continuously waiting for Jaehyun to make a move.

“Oooohh-” you moan out so deliciously, holding Jaehyun’s head in between your legs, raking his hair and tugging his locks every now and then. Before you even cum he stopped eating you out and went back to your lips. He ate you so good that you can taste yourself through his lips. He lines his cock and watches it disappear as he pushes deep inside you. You gasped and breathed heavily, gripping the sheets more when he starts drawing circles on your clit sinfully. He missed how your walls feel around him, biting his lower lip as he doubles his pace and dive in pleasure head first.

You reached for Jaehyun’s lips when you hit your high and asked him to, “Slow down. I want to savor you” he giggled and followed your request, kissing you more as he slowly fucks you while you enjoy your high and until he catches his own. He noticed there’s tears in your eyes when he pulled out and asked you, “what’s wrong baby? Talk to me” he kept you close to his tired and weak body, covering you both with the thick duvet and enjoying this special warmth.

“I’m sorry for distancing myself Jae, I’m sorry for leaving you” He can’t forgive himself hearing you apologize to him when it’s his fault your marriage was ruined. Jaehyun told you that he will stop eating humans until he finds an alternative. And to make things lighter, he thought of baby names until you two fall asleep in each other’s arms.

The plan worked.

When Jaehyun was in deep sleep, you went downstairs to get a knife. The sharpest one that can slit his throat in one go and bravely go on with your plan on killing your husband. As you placed the sharp knife on Jaehyun’s throat, it was so sharp that he is cut already and it woke him up.

Jaehyun opened his eyes and see you holding a knife on his throat, tears falling from your eyes, and obviously hesitating if you’re going to do it. Your husband saw your struggle. The deep shit he put you through. You don’t deserve any of this. If being dead can bring you peace in his life and healing, then so be it.

“It’s okay” he calms you down and holds your wrist, gripping the knife with you. His hand feels cold already. “burn the house and don’t let anyone see you leave here so you won't be accused over anything. I love you and I'm sorry”

It was the first time you heard those three words from Jaehyun and he was right. You remembered how much you love him like waking up in an awful curse but you’re too late. Jaehyun slit his own throat while still holding the knife with you.

Regret hit you like a train and all you can do is cry over Jaehyun’s dead body.

The sun is almost up and you can’t be seen leaving 127 House because there are two dead bodies in this house. You kissed Jaehyun’s corpse and removed his wedding ring from his finger. The only thing that will prove he existed in your life.

You used the gasoline for the barbecue party scheduled before Christmas, sobbed uncontrollably as you think all the memories you had with Jaehyun. His weak smile during the night you first met him, the first time his lips touched yours, all the plans and dreams you both had, how Jaehyun is always full of life when it comes to planning on having a baby…

But you killed him. And you’re about to burn the house and all the memories it holds like it’s just an unwanted photograph. After lighting the match, you drove away from the house as far as you can crying while you focus on the road and trying to find your way back to your old apartment.

As the sun goes up and slowly light up the sky, the image of 127 House burning flashes in front of your eyes and it made you pull over on the side road and take your time to cry. You feel Jaehyun’s cold lips on yours as you imagine his body being eaten by fire.

Halloween present time

“But did the demon really died mommy?” your daughter asked. Eager to hear the answer to her question. Until now telling her the story about Jaehyun, without the gory details and sex part of course, still gives you goosebumps. “You never answer my question. You’ve been telling me this story since I was six, I’m nine years old now. Please please please, answer the question” she added.

“Wow look who we have here” he knocked before coming in, “can I come in princess?”

“Of course daddy. Mommy, won’t tell me the ending of the demon eating-human” your daughter whines. You and Jaehyun just laughed at her and snuggled all together in her small bed.

“He didn’t. Now, will you please sleep?” he strokes his daughter’s soft hair, “mommy is tired already and I’m here to get her. Can I?”

“How can you be so sure he didn’t die?” you and Jaehyun groaned together.

“Okay. That’s it good night. No more stories. We love you, sleep well okay?” Jaehyun used his fatherly might and stopped his own daughter from bugging you both. She’s quite a handful sometimes. You and Jaehyun gave her a good night kiss and left her to sleep.

EXPLANATION

Jaehyun got out from the fire because he’s a demon and demons are immune from fire. He is a smart demon (btw he’s a university professor) so he found the reader again and incase you missed it, the reader regrets it because he loves Jaehyun so much.

Check the comments section for other answered questions.

Thank you for reading!

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