#at home but I don’t so I’m going to hide under my sheets and sob probably

[chaseprice]

A student who earlier in the day was being so disrespectful that I just had to stop the lesson and sigh loudly saw me crying in the hallway hours later and checked in on me and gave me a hug

[cherryjuiceblues]

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝟓

➯ Y/N ONLY WANTS ONE THING AND HARRY IS LEARNING TO RELAX ENOUGH TO GIVE IT TO HER. ✰ demon!harry resolved angst. sexual content. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 16.6k ッ vanilla lime masterlist

Y/N is trying really hard not to cry.

Partly because once she does open the floodgates there is no going back in her admittance of how deeply she needs Harry and partly because if she starts she knows she won’t stop and he hasn’t even been gone a full minute.

ㅤㅤ

When she’d woken up, lax underneath his sweet smelling sheets, she knew—knew that if she didn’t go home that morning that she would never leave. And Harry’s lack of presence beside her was a blessing, otherwise she knows she would’ve been coaxed back to her fantasy land (that she’d tried so hard to distance herself from).

He hadn’t said much when she appeared meekly in front of him; had had a sliver of hope that the blissed out expression she had fallen asleep with might have stayed, but he could tell that she’d made her decision. And he hadn’t tried to change her mind, almost to Y/N’s disappointment—did he not want her as much as she thought he might? Was he fighting their connection and winning?

But Harry’s heart was heavy in his chest. Still is now, as he stands in front of her, back in her own living room.

“Thank you, Harry,” Y/N reluctantly starts, “for… for a lot of things.” She smiles sadly at the ground, willing herself not to tear up. She wonders how she would be feeling if their souls weren’t bound. Relief, perhaps. Or nothing at all.

He watches her. Notices the subtle clench of her eyelids to press the tears back in and the way her palms flatten against her thighs. He should say something but the words don’t form.

“I know this can’t have been the most exciting week of your life, but I definitely won’t forget it any time soon.” What are you saying? She swallows. “Will I see you again?” Y/N lifts her eyes up to meet his devastating green, brows furrowed in the slightest indication of his discontent.

“If you ever need the help of a demon,” Harry straightens his posture, “I’m sure I can find my way back.”

That’s not the circumstance she meant and they both know it. Y/N fails to hide the disappointment on her face but doesn’t voice it.

“Okay,” she whispers, voice intending to be louder but her throat clogs. Harry wants to swoop her up in his arms—but he doesn’t. He steps back.

“Bye, Bambi.” Y/N feels her lungs quiver under the weight of the sad gasp she nearly inhales, tears well on their way to clouding her vision. But she blinks them away quickly; refuses to miss the last sight of him as he looks at her. He’s doing a much better job of hiding his pain but Y/N can feel it, or at least she believes she can—if it makes her feel better about the way she’s ready to sob.

Harry gives her one final small smile, failing to reach his eyes, and then he’s gone. Completely and utterly absent, with the gentle breeze his leave creates whirling his usually soothing scent right into Y/N’s face. Only this time it smells bitter. And her waterline is so close to spilling over but she refuses to blink—instead knuckles at her eyes furiously and lets out some deep breaths. More open-mouthed forcings of air than controlled breathing but it works.

ㅤㅤ

She stands in her living room, head tilted back towards the ceiling, for longer than she’d like to admit until the jarring sound of her phone jolts her out of her maladaptive thinking. Another text from Sarah.

just making sure you’re alive…

haven’t heard from u in a couple days, u ok?

Y/N sighs as guilt rushes over her and temporarily replaces the despair. It’s not like she has intentionally been ignoring her friend but it was hard to reply to a ‘how are u?��� and a ‘u ok?’ text when there were no words to reply with. She already knows she won’t be telling Sarah anything, had known from the first day, and it eats away inside of her but she’s adamant it’s for the best.

hey, sorry i haven’t replied. been busy. i’m okay, how are you? x 

The telling bubbles that indicate Sarah is replying appear as soon as Y/N hits send and she deflates a little.

HELLO!

i’ve missed u

i’m good, slumped at work but you know how that is.

u free to meet up soon?

She’ll admit she does smile a little at her friend’s enthusiasm—nice to know that she’s cared about—and quickly types a response with the promise of being available at the weekend. Sarah seems satisfied with her answer and promises that they’ll have a good catch up. And whilst Y/N is relieved to not have to pretend that everything is okay anymore, as she tosses her phone towards her sofa, she’s once again left with her thoughts. The only thoughts her brain is capable of having; about Harry.

Imogen looks shocked to see Y/N sit down at her desk—the truth lingering between them as they exchange eye contact. She’d tried to stay at home, she really had, but nothing could grab her attention and nothing seemed important enough to warrant doing.

So she worked. For the rest of the week, she gets up and goes to work. But whilst she may be mimicking a normal life, hers is so very far from it. She allows herself to cry. Every night when she goes to bed—the distance from Harry hurts more and more with every sleep and the tears last longer each night. But Y/N likes to think she deserves a cry, as a treat from every day being the hardest day at work she’s ever had. She thinks Harry might come back if she cries hard enough but he never does.

Once it reaches Friday, Y/N finally acknowledges the situation to Imogen, who has been very patient all week. She doesn’t get teary eyed but something else catches her interest.

“I don’t understand,” Y/N says, wheeling over to Imogen on her squeaky office chair, “how you remembered.”

Imogen’s head tilts in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She leans in, quietening her voice. “Harry put a spell—a glamour—on the building. To make everyone forget about the whole incident… But you remembered that you prayed and that would’ve happened the day before. Harry even made you forget that he took me home.”

Imogen gasps. “I knew I recognised him, I do remember that now… in the bathroom.” Gently, she places a hand on Y/N’s knee. “We’re talking about Lucifer here, babe. He’s the most powerful being on the planet… I know I’m not very experienced in the matter but surely he overrides everything. At least, that’s what makes the most sense, considering Harry’s spell malarkey didn’t work on me. And you know, maybe my angel blood was finally doing me some good.”

Y/N sighs. “Yeah… I don’t know why I can’t stop analysing everything—nothing is going to change. I just—” she pauses, inhaling, “I miss him,” shuffling uncomfortably, clearing her throat, eyes darting anywhere but her friend’s face. “I think I’ll always miss him—I mean if our souls are bound,” she laughs humourlessly, “I think I’m fucked.”

“Oh, babe,” Imogen pulls Y/N in for a hug, knees bashing awkwardly as they both lean forward on their respective chairs. “I’ll give Harry a right piece of my mind the next time I see him. Using his fuckery to hypnotise me,” she tuts.

Y/N pulls away with a small smile. “It’s called mind compulsion, I think.”

“Well, my mind is feeling rather compulsed to punch him.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” she laughs and Imogen smiles, not mentioning the glossy look in Y/N’s eyes.

ㅤㅤ

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

Y/N’s heart warms slightly, looking up from her desk as she gets ready to go home.

“That’s okay, Gen,” she smiles softly. Imogen doesn’t look convinced, worry plastered across her features. “I’m so tired I think I’ll pass straight out as soon as my head hits the pillow tonight.” She stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you, though. Really.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N does not, in fact, fall asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. Her head doesn’t even get close enough for that to happen. As soon as she hears the fateful click of her front door shutting, she’s letting her bag fall to the floor and her hands cover her face. The tears hold themselves back but her chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace—so painfully.

Every breath feels like another step taken away from Harry. He’s gone and she’s never going to see him again. She’s going to meet someone, force herself to fall in love and pretend that she is happy, have a beautiful family that fills the void but only for a little while—and still be longing for Harry until the day she dies.

It’s a hollow feeling, one of panic. The realisation that this could be her life now. That she will never be truly happy again because a part of her will always be missing. Y/N slaps her hands against the door behind her in an attempt to steady her fall as she sinks to the ground. Her head makes contact with the wood heavily as she stares up at the ceiling. Her breathing is uncontrollable now, so desperate to fill her lungs that her lungs refuse; they form an impenetrable wall and won’t let anything in. 

Y/N’s palms are sweaty on her knees, huddled to her chest. And then they’re wet on her eyes as her waterline starts to overflow, leaving hot salty trails down her cheeks and sobs that rip out of her chest. She’s never known crying to hurt like this. Even during the torturous week she’s had, when she buried her face into her pillow and cried herself to sleep each night, it hadn’t stung and torn through her like it is right now. Her head is pounding and foggy and she’s awfully congested, tears coating her face and pooling in her palms that are pressing numbingly into her sockets.

She doesn’t know anything. Other than that she needs Harry so much she thinks she might die from crying otherwise. Maybe her tears will start to fill her lungs and she’ll drown, or her ribs will crack from the force at which her shoulders are shaking and puncture her heart. The cause of death will be listed as the most pathetic of heartbreaks and she will be pitied by the masses.

His name is on a loop inside her head and he is all she can see behind her eyelids. She’s thinking of him so hard that she starts to smell him. And then hear his voice. And then feel his hands on her knees, trailing up to grasp at her wrists and pull them gently away from her face.

“Baby,” she hears Harry coo. Y/N gasps, revealing her sad, puffy face to him. She thinks she’s hallucinating but seeing him only makes her cry harder, eyes scrunching up and downturned lips letting out another sob. She’s pulled into Harry’s lap and he feels so real but Y/N can’t process what’s going on as she cries into his collarbone, soaking his shirt. Harry’s large palm is warm on her back, rubbing up and down in soothing motions as he mumbles things Y/N can’t hear into her hair. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice is thick; his name barely distinguishable but he knows. Squeezes her tighter against his body, arms wrapped around her back. She’s sat so close in his lap he thinks they might fuse together—he’d be okay with that.

It’s sudden—the way Y/N’s tears stop and her lungs break down their walls to let the much-needed air in. Her heart starts beating at a more steady rate as she inhales Harry—body relaxing into his—and her brain starts to calm down, fog shifting as it realises what’s going on. That nothing is missing anymore.

ㅤㅤ

Now, with a clearer head, Y/N starts to feel a little shy. She knows how rough she must look, water trails staining her skin, hands shaking, and limbs too heavy to hold up. Harry’s comforting hands hold her close to his chest as she breathes against his neck, but Y/N pushes against him to sit back and cover her face, desperate to wipe away some of her despair.

Harry cups her cheeks, nudging her hands out of the way and wiping the salty tracks from her skin. Her eyes flutter shut, furrowed brows relaxing somewhat. It’s a little humiliating when she feels him thumb underneath her nose, no doubt swiping away snot—she never thought she’d have anyone uncaringly clean her up like that and it causes an endeared warmth to blossom throughout her chest.

“You’re okay,” Harry says again, quiet enough that Y/N might think he fears the power of his own voice. His hands are so soft and warm as they hold her, mollifying her already leaden limbs as she melts even further into him, head leaning into his grasp. He drops a longing kiss to her forehead, pouring his every fibre into trying to soak up Y/N’s pain.

She brings her hands up to cover Harry’s, wishing she could breathe in better through her nose to unashamedly bask in his scent. “You heard me?” She asks.

“Every day.”

Y/N pulls back just enough so Harry’s lips leave her forehead, catching his gaze. His composure is commendable, and maybe if she wasn’t just about ready to dive into his eyes then it would be less obvious to her that he was hurting too.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, thinking of every tear she has shed over the last few nights and how loudly they must’ve echoed in Harry’s head.

“No.” He holds her face tighter, angling it up. He’s stern. “Don’t say that. I was trying to keep my distance. I thought— You have nothing to be sorry about, Bambi.” Harry strokes his thumbs across her cheeks, fingers gently buried in her hair. “I’m sorry. I could’ve come sooner—I let you cry,” he closes his eyes, brows kinked.

“Hey,” Y/N frowns. “If I can’t apologise, neither can you,” she shuffles even closer on Harry’s lap (not that she can get any closer but it feels necessary). She brings her own hands up to his face and delicately brushes his eyebrows—trails a finger down the bridge of his nose before using both her index fingers to pull at the corners of his mouth to twist them up into a smile. Harry relents, revealing his dimple in a smile he lets Y/N have. 

They sit there, with their faces in each other’s hands for longer than either of them know, only shifting into a more comfortable position when Harry hugs Y/N to his chest once more and rests his head atop hers. Both of their minds are running wild but neither of them want to be the one who disrupts the silence—bursts the bubble. Talking can wait a little while longer.

Harry takes her thighs and forces them even tighter around him, arms wrapping around her back securely. Even if Y/N wanted to move, their bodies wouldn’t allow it. He hugs her with so much force, Y/N’s breath hitches and Harry releases his grip slightly with a soft apology. She only nestles into his neck further, trapped hands resting happily on his chest. Their hearts beat together, steady and safe, and the places their skin touches liquify in bliss.

When Harry notices the shift in Y/N’s breathing he starts rubbing her back once more, whispering, “Don’t fall asleep on me now.” He can feel the flutter of her lashes against his neck and leans back just enough so she can’t bury in further. “Come on,” he tries again when she groans, “have you eaten?”

“No,” Y/N grumbles, wishing Harry would just let her nap on him. “Let me sleep.”

But Harry is already starting to get to his feet, hands securely under her thighs to keep her wrapped around him as he stands up with zero effort—Y/N nearly forgets his strength and agility surpasses that of an average person. She says nothing more, content with the lack of moving she has to do. He sets her down at her kitchen table—places her right on top of it. Y/N’s legs aren’t her own; they hang on tight when Harry tries to step back and she knows she should let go, that her moment of vulnerability has passed and she should act appropriately, but the possibility that he might disappear is knocking around invasively in her skull.

Harry treats her delicately—doesn’t tease. “I won’t be long.” He tucks her hair behind her ears. “You care what you have?” Y/N shakes her head, eyes failing to conceal her emotions. They’re wide, and overwhelmed, and tired. Harry smiles softly, holding her gaze for a second, his eyes flicking over her face; really there, really real. They get stuck in the moment again, taking one another in, before Harry forces himself to look away. He unlinks Y/N’s legs from around him and leaves her with an uncharacteristic tap to her nose with his forefinger that has her pulling away in faux annoyance, a small smile revealing her true feelings.

ㅤㅤ

They don’t talk whilst she eats. Harry comes back with a small bowl of leftover stir fry and helps her down from the table wordlessly, pulling out her chair and placing the food in front of her. He sits opposite and watches thoughtfully. Y/N doesn’t necessarily jump with joy at the idea of someone watching her eat usually, but none of the discomfort arises, gratefully filling her stomach and returning the eye contact whenever her mouth isn’t wide open mid-bite.

Before Y/N has even swallowed her last mouthful, she’s eager to push away from the table, sure she can hear the sweet siren song of her bed calling out to her. Harry follows her movements near weightlessly, every motion graceful. There was never anything clunky or awkward about him. Y/N pauses as she places her bowl in the sink, turning around hesitantly. “You’ll stay, won’t you?” Harry nearly rolls his eyes at the silly question—and maybe bites back a derisive remark—instead nodding assertively, calming her as much as possible without using his perfumed magic. (He decided a while ago he wouldn’t unless she asked—and even when she had asked, on the night that he’d stayed in her room to make sure she was okay, there was still a lingering guilt churning around inside him at the knowledge of his manipulation.)

“Of course I will,” he verbally confirms, following Y/N once again when she meekly walks past him through the doorway and heads towards her bedroom. Harry assumes she must be feeling a little embarrassed, always so determined to minimise her behaviour before tonight. The obvious display she’s presented has broken down a barrier; new for him but drastic for her. She may as well have removed her heart from her chest and spread it out for him, or delivered it into his palms with a note that read:

this is yours now.

Harry would be sure to take care of it, but he’s unconvinced Y/N knows that.

ㅤㅤ

She busies herself in the bathroom, mind running as she tries to plan some semblance of what she wishes to say in her head. When she pushes the door open however, and sees Harry sitting on the edge of her bed, her mouth starts running before her brain does.

“I don’t want you to go—” her skin warms and her eyes scrunch when she realises she’s blurted out the words that should’ve been hinted at much more gracefully. But she continues. “I mean— after tonight—” she rushes, “not because of the soul thing…or maybe it is but I don’t care.” Harry listens with a soft and watchful gaze. “It doesn’t bother me… and I want you to stay in my life and I know our souls being connected makes it complicated but I’m not just saying this. And it’s not just because of my unhinged crying, although it did suck…” Y/N lowers her voice, almost scared to admit it, “I think I would’ve cried anyway, tethered or not.”

Harry is processing her words for no longer than three seconds before Y/N starts up again, his miniscule silence as he carefully chooses his reply stirring a panic up inside her. “I know you probably don’t feel the same… or you don’t want to.” Harry sits up, mouth opening to correct her but she keeps talking. “I’m sorry you got stuck with me…”

“Y/N—”

“—But I thought you might be okay with becoming friends?”

“Y/N—”

“—Or if not I could just push someone else down the stairs and—”

“Y/N!” Harry finally cuts through her. His voice is powerful, commanding, but still so delicate it barely disturbs the particles around them. She looks at him properly, pulling herself out of her head, with wide eyes. “You’re working yourself into a tizzy, hm? Come here, silly girl.” He opens his arms and widens his legs so Y/N can step between them. Warm palms rest against her hips.

“I feel the same way. And I want to.”

His words light up inside of Y/N; they trail into her ears and slick down her neck. Seep into her skin and vibrate through her bones.

“Does that make you happy?” He strokes his thumbs against her hip bones, honey-dripping tone placing a coy smile onto Y/N’s face as she bites her lip in an attempt to hide it. 

She nods. “Yes.”

And she nearly stays happy too. Nearly lets her shoulders relax and her protective layer fall away. Until Harry continues speaking.

“But—”

“No,” Y/N’s smile drops. “No, there’s no but. Harry, please.” She tries to step back but Harry slides his hands around her body. 

“When we were at the cottage,” he starts, “I was ready to keep you forever. I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.” His eyes round out as they look up at her. “But how could that have been fair? I’m no good, Y/N, really—”

“—Don’t say that.” She grabs his shoulders.

“Please, Y/N. I’m old, and I do bad things, and whenever I am with you I am terrified you might suddenly realise what I am. You deserve a nice, human boy much better than me, who doesn’t put you in danger and can give you a normal life. I’d never forgive myself if I took that away from you.”

A million things rush through Y/N’s head. Sadness and sympathy for the way Harry talks of himself, and then frustration and denial that he could truly believe that. “Harry,” she starts, frowning face mirroring his own, “You are better.”

His expression stays the same, large eyes hesitant and unconvinced, not quite understanding what she is saying.

“You have been kinder to me than any human girl or boy—well, except for my friends but I don’t mean like that,” she pauses. “To say you are not good enough isn’t fair, especially when I’ll be comparing everyone I ever meet to you. And you will always come out on top.” Harry’s face softens and his hands pull Y/N in closer. “I know what you are, Harry. It doesn’t scare me,” she whispers, cupping his face tenderly. “I like liking you. It feels good.” She lets her eyes close, forehead tipping down to rest against his and he angles his head up. She listens to the way he breathes, slow and deep, and his silence unnerves her once more. “Say something,” she exhales.

“It’s too dangerous, I— Lucifer mentioned a demon named Zennith, that apparently I used to know but I don’t remember. He sent the demon after you and I don’t know what he wants or where he is. I could find him but I was half-hoping that if I ignored it, he would give up. I don’t even know if Lucifer was telling the truth. But nothing threatening has happened to you since Niall took care of the demon and I like things that way.”

Y/N doesn’t care. “I don’t care,” she tells him so, “you protect me.” And he does, better than anyone else could possibly attempt to.

Harry’s holding himself back; they both know it. Both know that he’s letting his worries get the better of him when nothing like this has affected him before. He’s usually so confident in his abilities to keep her safe, so what’s changed? He considers the possibility of a more permanent method of concealing her scent—one that might involve teeth, or words, or something so intimately internal that Harry has to redirect his thoughts before they get too muddy.

“Let me sit on it, yeah Bambi?” He eventually utters. It’s not a no, Y/N thinks. “I would rather never see you again in my long, immortal life than know that your pain was caused by me.” This has her eyes welling up as she clumsily lowers down onto his lap, arms thrown tight around his middle.

“Don’t say that,” Y/N speaks into his neck. “Don’t even think about it.” Her words are wet against his skin.

Harry sighs, his own face buried into the side of her head. “Always making you cry, sweet girl,” but Y/N shakes her head fervently until he smooths her hair down and holds her just as tight. “Been crying since the day we met.”

“No. M’tummy hurts, s’all.” Y/N is unconvincing but Harry smiles against her hair, mumbling a soft okay as they sit in each other’s arms once again.

ㅤ

Y/N is unsure at what point she was moved into her bed instead of on Harry’s lap on top of it, but when she wakes up in the morning and the first thing she sees is his sleeping face, logistics don’t seem important. Nothing seems important, apart from him being in front of her.

His face is serene, not a furrow or worry in sight, and his breathing is peaceful and deep. She wants to touch every inch of him—commit him to memory—but she doesn't want him to wake up. This could be it—the day he decides to never see her again, and the mere thought has Y/N closing her eyes in an attempt to will it away. Her body doesn’t function properly without him anymore. How would she possibly survive on her own?

“Y’thinking too loud,” the grumble jolts Y/N out of her depressing reverie, eyes opening to see Harry sleepily blinking at her. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles back, eyes flitting around the slivers of shirtless skin she can see. Harry reaches for her under the covers, fingers trailing up her arm. Her eyes meet his and he has a soft smile on his face, mussed hair curling around his temples. When his palm smooths up her neck and into her hair, there’s nothing more she wishes to do than sink into his touch. But she feels the need to protect herself and Harry notices the way she holds her breath.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t pull away from me.” He pushes himself up and drops down closer to her.

“But you get to?” Y/N says, slightly affronted.

Harry sighs, “No, baby—” he rubs hand down his face before running it through his hair. “I’m here right now. I won’t disappear, I promise you.”

Right now. Y/N repeats it in her head. Not forever—right now. Is that enough?

“But if anything becomes dangerous you’ll leave?”

“If anything becomes dangerous I will protect you entirely. And then I will make sure you stay safe. And if that means keeping away from you then that’s what I’ll do.” He traces the shell of her ear with his finger. “Don’t be so sad, little thing.”

“Why aren’t you sad?” Y/N huffs.

“How can I be, when I am with you?”

He has to go and be so irresistibly mawkish. Y/N can’t help the way her heart swells and her pupils expand. To be so unashamedly wanted is all she has ever wished for. She reaches her own hand up, landing on his that has weaved into her hair and bringing it down to hold her face. Her lips pucker against the spongy part of his palm, and then the pad of his thumb, and each of his fingers. Harry watches her with a small smile, eyes velvety.

He can’t stop himself from surging forward to press their mouths together, liquid insides begging him to do something. Y/N sighs into Harry’s mouth, easily following his movements. It feels as though they’ve been doing this forever—waking up next to one another. He keeps a firm grasp on her hand, manoeuvring their fingers so they interlock and pushing forward so Y/N lays on her back. Harry settles between her legs, lips never straying as their mouths open wider and wider with each kiss. With his free hand, Harry dances it down Y/N’s front, the other that’s firmly squeezing hers, still holding him up. Her nipples peak underneath her shirt and Harry elicits a gasp from Y/N as he thumbs over one, not stopping for long enough to tease as he gets further and further down her body.

Y/N opens her mouth for Harry eagerly, accepting his tongue with a grateful whine. Their noses bump and their breathing is laboured but it’s flawless. And when she feels Harry trail along the waistband of her shorts she pushes her hips up into him, only to have him send her back down and smooth his big hand underneath her shirt and press into her tummy. It’s a nice force, a warm and fuzzy feeling. One that has her sinking deeper into the space Harry gets her to when they do these things.

“What am I g’na do with you?” Their lips part and his eyes are seductive, stripping her bare. 

Y/N inhales shakily before whispering, “Whatever you want.” She tries to push into his hand but his strength is vast and he drags his nails up to her sternum before returning to her stomach and reapplying pressure.

Harry hums, slanting his lips against hers again, nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip until he can almost feel her skin tingling with impatience. “You want me to make all the decisions, hm?” He mumbles against her mouth. When she whines in affirmation, he says, “You like having no power, don’t you? Like just lying there and taking what I give you?” Harry’s words stoke the fire in her belly, thighs twitching. Y/N’s skin grows hot as she nods, embarrassed. “You gone all quiet on me, baby?”

“I like it,” she breathes, eyes closed.

“Like what? Look at me,” Harry squeezes her hand. “Like what?”

Y/N blinks up at him, takes in the flush of his cheeks and the glint in his eyes. She wants to kiss him until all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. “I like…when you decide. Want you to do whatever you want to me…please?”

“Love how politely you beg,” Harry kisses her again, sighing into her mouth. His tongue strokes hers and makes her squirm underneath him, tentatively hooking her legs around his hips. Harry moves his hand from her tummy around to the back of her thigh, and then her ass, pushing her into him as far as she can go.

Hard meets soft and their mouths open against one another. Harry pulls away, sponging kisses down Y/N’s neck. He trails further, licking her nipples through her shirt and taking a moment to admire the wet patches. Then he pushes the fabric up just enough to kiss at her stomach, nibbling until he hears giggles mixed in with Y/N’s moans. Harry smiles against her skin, peeking up at her from underneath his lashes. She looks so beautiful, all bated breaths and glowing skin.

“Tickles,” she exhales.

Harry can’t help himself. “Oh? When I do this?” he asks, before biting into her flesh again, dotting kisses for each tooth mark he leaves. And then he blows a wet raspberry underneath her belly button, eliciting the most adorable string of shrieks and giggles he’s sure he’s ever heard. Harry shakes his head back and forth, face snug to her skin, and his hair sweeps against her. Soft as Y/N’s hand falls into it, trying to tug him away.

He unlinks their hands and brings both of his palms to her hips, holding her to him. And as he subtly slips down, his mouth starts leaving kisses again and Y/N’s laughs get caught in her throat. Harry looks up at her with a smirk, mouth hovering above her mound. Her eyes are wide and her chest is heaving. But he’s barely even begun to tease yet. 

Slowly, Harry kisses over Y/N’s shorts, down, down, until his nose is level with her clit. And Y/N’s breath turns into a whine, and then a squeal when Harry nudges it, shaking his head from side to side again. Her hips buck into his face and he lets her, holds her closer to him as he inhales and breathes hot air onto her.

“Should I take these off or should I ruin you through your shorts, hm?” Harry gives a particularly pointed prod with his nose and Y/N gasps. “Think I could soak you through two layers?” Y/N doesn’t know anything, can only feel the immense throbbing between her legs. But Harry does all the thinking for her. “I think I could. But I won’t today,” as he tugs on the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down her legs, presenting her already wet underwear, “wanna taste you proper.”

The promise has Y/N’s stomach contracting and her hands fisting the sheets as Harry drags the flat of his tongue over her, causing her panties to stick to her as he plays and increasing the thrumming in Y/N’s body. Harry groans into her, the vibrations pulling a whimper from Y/N’s open mouth.

“You’re so responsive, Bambi,” Harry smiles against her. “I barely have to do a thing and you’re squirming underneath me.”

“Only you,” she whines, eyes finding his as he soaks his saliva over her clit, drenching her underwear further.

Harry hums, “That’s right. Just f’me, no one else.” She nods desperately. “You’re a good girl.” Y/N shivers, body begging him. “Should I make my good girl come, do you think?”

“Yes, please,” her bottom lip juts out, wet and puffy. “Need you.”

“M’needy girl needs me,” Harry pouts right back, and Y/N nearly begs again but her breath gets caught in her throat as Harry plucks her underwear to the side and licks through her folds, bottom to top. Her hips shudder and Harry forces her thighs around his head, doesn’t let an inch of space get between them. He laps at her like he may die without it, hums and groans into her, buries his nose so tightly against her clit and massages his tongue inside of her. Y/N swear she loses consciousness, head thrown back and eyes rolling—every sense overwhelmed. No one had ever made her feel like this before.

And the coil in her belly is already tightening, and Y/N knows she could let go so easily, she’s already so nearly there. But then a harsh blaring coming from her bedside table has her jumping from her skin. Harry doesn’t flinch, carries on practically devouring her. “What is that?” he speaks into her, arm thrown over her waist holding her down.

Y/N can’t talk, just blindly slaps for her phone to turn her alarm off. “I’m—” she tries, “seeing—Sarah—” her words come out broken and Harry hums against her, speeding up his movements. Y/N cries out, hands landing in his hair.

“Better come then,” Harry mumbles, sucking her clit into his mouth hard and then laving his tongue over her in tight circles. “Be a good girl and come for me, Bambi.” She whimpers as his tongue speeds up and one of his hands trails up her chest, pushing her shirt out of the way to reveal her breasts. He flicks at her nipple, pinches and squeezes and feels her pulsate against his chin.

She’s garbling his name, body wound up tight and he’s whispering into her, “I know, I know, just come for me.” Her orgasm is right there, she’s so close, and all it takes is for Harry to take his other hand and sink a single finger into her drippy hole and she’s clenching down around him, crying out as she comes. Her eyes squeeze shut and tears slide down her temples as Harry licks her through it, humming. He can’t take his eyes off of her, splayed out so pretty for him, contracting around his finger and pulling on his hair.

“Good girl,” he whispers against her, parting from her for a moment to give her a little respite, resting his cheek against the inside of her thigh. Y/N blinks, looking down at him with a spacey expression and a wet face. She opens her mouth to speak but the noise gets lodged in her throat.

“That was—really nice,” a tear rolls down her cheek.

Harry smiles and presses a longing kiss to the crease of her thigh, “Yeah? Those good tears?” Y/N nods fervently. He kisses her again, and again, slowly moving back to her centre where he sponges his lips over her clit.

Y/N jumps and gasps. “Too sensitive!” But Harry strokes her hip bones gently and slicks his tongue through her folds, avoiding her pearl.

“I know, just le’ me clean you up.”

“Harry… I need to get dressed,” Y/N sighs, without attempting to move. Her head just sinks further into the pillow as her rapid heartbeat starts to calm down whilst Harry sweetly tends to her. She runs her hands through his hair and then lets it brush against her tummy, sighing as she watches the way his eyes flutter.

Just as her body hints at the idea of building back up, Harry reluctantly pulls away with glistening lips. He peels her legs from around his shoulders and climbs up to lean over her, stroking her hair from her face. Y/N nearly melts under his gaze but then she forces a frown onto her face.

Harry pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Oi. What’re you grumpy about now?”

“If you’re not here when I get back, I am going to murder you, Harry.”

He laughs, dropping a wet kiss to her cheek. “That’s okay, sweetheart.”

Harry teleports to Niall’s house and quickly ushers him to follow, settling when they’re both in Y/N’s living room.

“Could’ve been preoccupied, you know?” Niall glowers. 

“Well, you weren’t.”

“I could’ve been—”

“—Did you find anything?”

Niall stares at Harry for a moment, opening his mouth and then shutting it again. For once, Harry doesn’t roll his eyes or tell him to just spit it out, instead taking a seat on Y/N’s armchair and gesturing to the sofa for Niall.

“Nothing helpful, I’m afraid, Harry. Just more of what you already know—that the unbinding incantation is lethal to humans. I’m sorry.”

Harry feels rather unaffected and Niall notices but says nothing. He’s not sure he wants to untether their souls now even if they could. He’s in too deep.

“But,” Niall continues, “I did read that as long as you don’t kiss her, your feelings should remain more manageable. Something about giving in to your souls.”

Harry looks at Niall. Niall blinks. “Harry,” he deadpans. “You haven’t.”

“Have you ever tried not wanting to kiss your fucking soulmate, Niall?”

His friend lets out a breath, leaning further back into the sofa. “Well, you’re fucked then, mate.”

Harry doesn’t necessarily agree. He might have a week ago but his priorities have changed in that short span of time. 

“Thanks for looking,” Harry finally says.

Niall looks solemn. “What are you going to do now?”

Harry smiles, “Y/N threatened murder if she came back and I wasn’t here, so…”

“Man, you are down bad.”

“Perhaps,” he shrugs.

ㅤㅤ

Meanwhile, Y/N is being grilled by Sarah for seeming different lately.

“I can’t tell if you’re on cloud nine or on tenterhooks expecting to hear bad news.”

“Maybe I’m both. Happier than I’ve ever been but waiting for it to go up in flames.”

Harry wakes up before Y/N the next morning.

(She had arrived home the day previous with bated breaths, assuring Harry and his smug face that she was serious about the murder if he hadn't been there. But he just looked at her with his teasing green eyes and coaxed her into his lap where he mocked until she squirmed.)

He wakes up with a renewed vigour, feeling his irises practically disappear as he takes in Y/N’s sleeping form. Hair a mess, face soft and unburdened of anxiety, and limbs relaxed right on top of Harry. He feels a sense of self-accomplishment that in her unconsciousness she gravitated towards him, and the longer he looks at her beautiful face, the more sure he is that he’s going to promise her longer than just right now.

In fact, however hard it is to sneak out from underneath her, he decides he’ll surprise her with breakfast too and his heart swells at the picture of her waking up in his head. She’d probably half-heartedly grumble at him for waking her up and then pretend not to be grateful for the food he presents.

Harry is busy for a little while, taking things slower than he usually would to try and stay as silent as possible. He’s just taking soft-boiled eggs off the hob when he hears it—Y/N’s cry. Everything is turned off and Harry is hurrying into her bedroom immediately, seeing her start to thrash about under the covers.

“Hey, hey,” he tries, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Wake up, Y/N.” A tear rolls down her nose and Harry is quick to brush it away, gently manoeuvring her so she’s laying on her back and not her side. “It’s okay, baby, wake up,” he strokes her face, tucking her hair behind her ears and smoothing out the furrow in her brows. Nothing works. Not even as he starts to shake her shoulders—Y/N only cries harder and flails more. “Come on, Bambi,” Harry starts to panic; he tries to keep it quelled but the churning in his gut is getting stronger and stronger.

It’s when Harry jostles her particularly powerfully that her eyes shoot open and his heart nearly drops out of his body when he is greeted with complete darkness. His eyes looking back at him—gone are her beautiful irises, replaced by black, soulless, foreboding ovals.

He’s seen this before, knows what’s happening, but never has he dealt with it affecting someone he cares about more than life itself. Any part of trying to help her could actually harm her.

Harry doesn’t have to guess very hard as to who it is that’s controlling her dream, and he berates himself for trying to pretend that someone didn’t exist instead of killing him days ago. How could he let this happen to her? If Harry weren’t here right now, she could be stuck in this state for however long Zennith decided. Hours, days, or even weeks.

Usually Harry would be preparing to perform a ritual to wake up whoever was inflicted, but he doesn’t have anything and his hands are shaking like leaves. He needs to pull himself together. Y/N’s eyes are still open and it’s upsetting Harry to a fault; he’ll never be useful if he falls apart. 

Gently, he brushes her eyelids closed, unnerved at how inhuman she looks. An idea plants its roots in Harry’s head as he swipes away more of Y/N’s tears, delicately holding her arms down so she doesn’t writhe. He’d never attempted it in this context before, but maybe…

ㅤㅤ

Y/N will never sleep again. She’s sure of it. The image before her is undoubtedly one that will stick with her for the rest of her measly life.

She doesn’t even remember waking up—although she’s pretty sure she isn’t fully awake because the room she is in isn't a room. It’s a lack of space, a vast darkness, with her sat in the middle and an unsettling looking man standing two feet away. She can’t move, she can’t speak, she can only blink, and feel hot streams running down her face.

“Hello, Y/N. It seems I finally entered the right person’s dreams.” His voice is slimy. Was this the demon Harry had mentioned? What was his name? “You are very pretty,” the man says, and a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. “What’s a little human like you doing with a demon like Harry?”

Having more fun than I am with you, she thinks.

“He’s a bad man, Y/N. I’m sure he’s mentioned me, filled your head with lies.”

He doesn’t even remember you.

“He might be nice to you now, but one day he will only succumb to his true nature and kill you. He tried to kill me once.”

You probably deserved it, Y/N thinks, but the demon’s face contorts and then she realises she said it out loud. She goes to speak again but she can’t; he’s controlling her.

“Ah, yes, I see he has already tainted you.” He steps closer. Y/N desperately wishes to move backwards but none of her body responds. “That’s okay. A shame but nothing I can’t change. What is necessary will be done.”

Y/N doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, sure he must be mentally unhinged, but it doesn’t unsettle her any less as he gets closer and closer. The uncontrollable tears feel nearly scalding on her skin and she won’t blink in fear of her own safety.

“When you wake, I want you to come and find me.” His eyes darken like Harry’s, but Y/N can’t help but think that they suit Harry far better and are much less disturbing on him. “I think you’ll be much happier with me, as my little pet.” He reaches his hand out towards her face and Y/N wills every part of her being to flinch away, despite no movement happening. She feels no touch however, and notices his fingers trace the air around her cheek. He can’t, perhaps.

There’s no doubt in Y/N’s mind that whatever words the demon is speaking are supposed to have some hypnotic effect on her—but nothing in her mind changes. Nothing comes over her in a strung-out realisation, her eyes don’t round out in newfound adoration and her heart doesn’t start to speed up.

Well, it does, but not out of endearment. She can only hope her connection with Harry’s soul is what's keeping her unscathed.

The demon keeps speaking and Y/N still can’t remember his name, but her neck suddenly starts to sting and she flinches. She actually, physically moves. He looks at her, puzzled, before letting out a quiet curse.

“You come and find me,” is that last thing she hears, each word more muffled than the last as her eyes droop closed and the pain in her neck is the last thing she feels.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N wakes up with a cry, body surging forward and immediately crashing into a hard chest. Harry. It takes her a second to realise that the pain from her dream is real, and that Harry is the cause of it, as she feels his teeth pull away from her neck and watches as he leans back to see her face. She swears his eyes are glassy.

“I’m sorry, are you okay? I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t know what else to do,” Harry exhales, words jumbled. She’s never seen him lack composure—it’s disconcerting. He cups her face and wipes her tears away, pulling her up and into his chest with his arms wrapped securely around her.

“Harry?” Y/N croaks, “My neck,” she lifts a heavy hand up to touch but Harry takes it delicately.

“I know, sweetheart, m’sorry,” he lays her back down against the pillows and lightly laps at her neck, cleaning up the blood and laving over the bite. His saliva feels healing, as the pain trails away and all she can feel are Harry’s soft lips leaving tender kisses over the mark. Her eyes well up—feeling vastly overwhelmed as her dream plays back in her head. Visuals of the darkness, and the maniacal demon with the wish to own her.

“Am I definitely awake?” Y/N’s lip quivers, vision blurry with tears.

Harry’s heart sinks in his chest, taking in her crestfallen and frightened expression. “You’re awake. I promise, my sweet girl.” He places a longing kiss to her forehead, thumbs determined in the cleaning of her tears. “I promise.” He kisses her nose, and then her cheek, and Y/N is turning to catch his lips—uncaring as the blood from his mouth and the salt from hers mingle together in an seismic kiss.

Y/N grips his hands desperately, tightly—as if they ground her—and Harry’s mouth presses harder to hers in return. Harder yet still tender, treating her with such fragility that only he can deliver. Her whole body feels weak and her eyelids are so heavy.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispers against her lips as they part. “This is my fault. I should’ve taken care of Zennith a long time ago.” He plants a little peck.

“Are you—going to—leave me—now?” Y/N blubs, fat drops sliding onto the pillow.

“Never,” Harry swears. “Never, Y/N, I promise.” His hands frame her entire face, as she blinks sadly up at him. Tears cloud her vision. “Was g’na tell you this morning. Was making y’brekkie ‘n’ everything.” She sniffles loudly. “I don’t want to ever be away from you again, my little Bambi.” Y/N’s face screws up as more tears fall, but these ones are less forlorn, as she tugs Harry down on top of her. He tucks his face into her neck, kissing over his bite mark once again.

When her sniffles have lessened, Harry pushes his arms underneath Y/N’s body and rolls them over so she’s resting on top of him. She sinks into him easily, limbs too heavy to hold up, and Harry’s insides roil at how weak she seems.

“Why did you bite me?” Y/N mumbles into his chest. “Like some sort of dog.”

Harry exhales a laugh and rubs a soothing palm along her back. “It’s a temporary scenting bite—they have protective qualities… among other things… I didn’t know if it would work.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “What else will it do to me?”

“You’ll probably be a little needier for a couple days. I might be too. Would be stiff right now if the circumstances were any different.”

“Oh,” she breathes, “do you want…” her hand tries to move downwards but Harry’s gathering it up immediately.

“No, baby. I was far too worried about you to be thinking with my dick. And you need rest.”

“I’mfine,” Y/N says but the words slur together and Harry has been watching her very, definitely closed eyes for the past two minutes.

“I won’t move an inch,” he promises. “Dream of me this time, Bambi.”

ㅤㅤ

Sure enough, it’s as if Harry hadn’t even been breathing when Y/N reawakens after her second, much more pleasant sleep. But she stirs to the comforting feeling of his warm chest rising and falling and nuzzles her face further into his body, tucking underneath his chin like a little puppy.

He carries her (despite Y/N’s adamance that she can walk just fine), and feeds her, and even offers to dress her but Y/N insists she has full control over her body. Harry is serious though, in his worry for her—doesn’t find any part of it humorous and she has to try hard not to tease him for it.

ㅤㅤ

“I have to kill him,” Harry states from next to her. Y/N has just finished explaining the details of her dream and it jostles her a little but she surprises herself by not minding one bit.

“Okay,” she says. “What if you get hurt?”

And Harry doesn’t mean to be patronising but he laughs, “I’ll be just fine, Y/N.” 

She frowns, “I’m serious. I’m allowed to worry about you too. I don’t even know what this guy is so het up about.”

“I know,” Harry sighs, scratching at his jaw. “I wish I could remember him.” He places a hand on her knee. “But it doesn’t matter now, he’s given me more than enough reason to make sure he isn’t a problem anymore.”

Y/N nods silently.

“How’s your neck feeling?” Harry brushes his knuckle over the mark.

“Fine,” she hums. 

“Don’t feel needy or anything?”

“No.”

“No?” Harry smiles. “Then why are you gripping me so tight?”

Y/N looks down to see her fingers wrapped around his hand on her knee and she frowns. She doesn’t pull away though, she just glares at Harry who pinches her cheek in return.

“You’re cruel,” she grumbles.

Harry’s grin widens, “Yeah,” he leans in, “I’m mean,” closer, “really, so very mean,” he breathes against her mouth, eyes daring to flick to hers before they flutter closed and their lips meet. His hand takes her throat tenderly, not applying pressure, just holding as Y/N mollifies into his kiss. She turns his palm up and intertwines their fingers, squeezing subconsciously when Harry sucks on her top lip.

And he couldn’t find her any cuter, he’s sure, when she leans into him—unaware of her own movements. Harry tries moving back, just to tease, but Y/N follows him like a magnet; lips refusing to part. When he wants to actually speak, he squeezes her throat with the least amount of strength, not expecting her to melt even further into him. He shouldn’t have been surprised. But he doesn’t bring it up now.

“I’m going to have Niall come here for a bit,” he mumbles against her mouth. She’s trying her hardest to keep kissing him.

“Why?” Y/N whines, too enraptured to think about anything other than Harry and his lips.

“To keep you company.” To keep you safe.

She blinks up at him then, forcing her face to distance itself farther than two inches. “No,” she pouts, doing a wonderful job of proving she isn’t feeling needy. “Do you have to go now?”

“Yes, Y/N.” Harry squeezes her hand.

And he can tell that she wants to protest further, so he leans in once again and sponges his lips all over her face—doesn’t stop until she’s giggling and struggling, trying to move away from his unrelenting tickles. She falls back and Harry moves with her, hovering over her body on the sofa as he places sloppy kisses on her skin and trails his hands down her body to find the most reactive spots.

“Harry!” she squeals, wriggling underneath him. “S-Stop!” Her hands flap about, trying to cease his torture. Harry can’t help but smile down at her, eyes shining with fulfilment. “I’ll pee!” She panics and Harry slows down but doesn’t stop.

“How do you know I’m not into that?” He teases and Y/N gasps, determined to escape his grasp.

“Harry! Gross!” And he finally stops his ministrations, leaning back to give her some space as her chest heaves. His hands rest on her waist as he sits back, taking in her mussed hair and glowing face.

“I have to go now or I’ll never do it,” he whispers. Y/N feels her heart swell at the way he’s looking at her. She understands. But she still manages to keep him over her for another ten minutes.

Zennith is pitifully easy to find.

Harry almost feels humiliated at how much the demon has affected Y/N’s life when Harry could have tracked and located him in no longer than five minutes.

Using everything he knows about Zennith, Harry closes his eyes and searches—bounces from place to place with no resistance. Is unsurprised at the lack of concealment of scent or location Zennith has in situ. He retraces moments, smells, and faces that lead Harry in the right direction until he can see a clear outline of where he needs to go.

He also sees the clear outline of an additional presence that Harry hadn’t considered he might have to deal with.

Lucifer’s new abode is similar in size and shape, the only major difference Harry notices being the colour scheme. In his previous dwelling, the Devil had an ironically mild decor, however the deep red and black walls in this interior is the first thing Harry sees, and it unnerves him some.

The fact he’s managed to find Lucifer’s residence without asking and has ambled in with entitlement does cross his mind, but Harry thinks he might get away with it when the demon in question spots him from his gaudy throne and flashes a disturbing smile with open arms.

“Harry Styles. What a wonderful surprise.”

“Hello,” he says, hands making their way behind his back in a subconscious stance.

“I don’t believe you’re supposed to be here but you are a sight for sore eyes.” Lucifer smiles, unabashed.

Harry hesitates, “Sorry… I’m looking for someone. I was led here.”

Lucifer hums, “You’re a good tracker,” and then clicks his fingers a few times, eyes never leaving Harry.

A man steps into the room. A man that Harry recognises. A man that Harry’s fists recognise. Surely not. That was nearly eighty years ago… 

They lock eyes and the demon’s suddenly fill with black. Harry matches him in defence, hands clenching by his side.

“You’re still a bully then,” Harry grits. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer sits back to enjoy the scene before him.

Zennith steps further into the room. “Funny… I don’t recall you being the one beaten to within an inch of his life.”

Harry laughs, “You’ve been hanging onto this for eighty years, have you? I didn’t even fucking know your name back then.”

He sees the frown on the demon’s face, before it’s quickly concealed. “No.” He’s sharp. “I moved on. Was happy to forget about the cunt who fucked up my face for his own enjoyment.” Harry clenches his teeth. “And then Boss was telling me about his latest fun… and your name was mentioned. Took me back, didn’t it?” His eyes glower. 

Harry is still processing that the demon before him that’s been causing him trouble is the kid he knocked out when he was nineteen (because he was shouting abuse at Harry, he feels is necessary to add). How pathetic he is to hold a grudge for nearly eighty years (may as well be one hundred if you round it up) and how entitled he seems. 

“I think you’re forgetting some details,” Harry grunts.

“Silence,” Zennith snaps, composure cracking, dark eyes close to producing fog. “Thought I would see how you were doing. See if you were still a depressed little loser. It’s been disappointing to see your disgustingly soft mingling with the humans. Even more disappointing that my friend was unable to have any fun before you vanquished him… That girl really is very pretty.”

Harry’s body tightens up at the sound of Zennith’s sleazy voice mentioning Y/N. He tries to act unbothered but anyone could see his anger double at the perverted nature of his comment.

“It’s a shame she likes you,” he sighs. “You must have your claws in real fuckin’ deep for that dream to have not worked. I’m sure you were there, watching it all happen.”

For a moment, Harry feels undeservedly grateful to Lucifer for not saying anything about the real reason Zennith’s magic didn’t work. But then he decides it wouldn’t matter either way.

Harry stalks towards the demon that might as well still be a little brat of a teenager—he has the mental capacity, that’s for sure. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen now, but I’m sure you won’t enjoy it.”

Zennith backs up with a laugh, eyes momentarily clearing with surprise, “What?” He tries to pretend it’s a windup—a silly, harmless prank. “It’s not that serious, man. Hardly worth going to all the trouble of a fight.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Maybe if you’ll apologise for those things you said to me all that time ago, I’ll feel less murderous,” Harry goads.

“You fucking prissy, you want me to say sorry? You were a sad excuse for a demon then and you’re an even sadder one now.”

Harry hums, well and truly unaffected by the words of a demon who had to cower behind someone else as they did his dirty work, and traumatise a human girl through her dream, “No apology then?”

“Boss, are you gonna let him get away with this?” Zennith throws his hands up in the air, exasperatedly looking at Lucifer.

The Devil simply smiles—making no move to help at all—encouraging the chaos and showing no signs of concern for his employee. Zennith deflates then, with realisation that this could not go his way. The three of them all know that Harry overpowers, every day of the week. He did when he was nineteen, and he will at ninety-eight.

“What the fuck.” Zennith sighs, watching as Harry steps closer and closer. He’s lost his nerve.

ㅤㅤ

Harry thinks that maybe a torturous death is deserved, but all he really wants is to get it over and done with and return to Y/N—who is no doubt having her ear talked off by Niall.

So he makes it quick. Pins Zennith still with his monochromatic eyes—wonders what he’d been doing all this time to be so weak as his arms fall heavily by his sides—and feels as his skull splinters and shatters into pieces and pierces his brain. Watches as his body crumbles and turns to ash before it hits the ground; the pained sounds of the demon echoing throughout Lucifer’s lair before the deafening silence takes over.

Harry’s frowning, eyes closed to purge the image from his head and to try and remove himself from this mindset before he gets really dangerous.

“How debonair!” Lucifer claps. “I usually make so much mess but that… that was beautifully done.”

Harry doesn’t have the control to appease the Devil and his unreturned flirting right now. He hums.

“Shame though, I suppose. He was a good servant… someone will have to take his place.” Harry’s stomach drops and his eyes snap open. Shit. Lucifer is already smiling at him. No, no, no. “Come here.”

His footsteps are light as he makes his way over to Lucifer’s throne. Harry’s not sure he can feel his body at all. He stops in front of him, hands making their way behind his back once more.

“No. Right… here,” Lucifer points to his side. This is where I’ll be standing for the rest of my life, Harry thinks. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred years—

Lucifer presents his cheek, expectantly. Harry blanches. “Be a good demon and prove your loyalty,” he teases. Harry’s heart is beating rapidly, scared that at any moment he’ll be trapped, or killed, or that Y/N will become unsafe and Harry won’t be able to stop it. Hesitantly, he leans down, lips jutting out reluctantly as he forces himself to press a small and obviously uncomfortable kiss to the cheek of the ruler of Hell.

The demon looks accomplished when Harry steps back and clears his throat without saying a word, clearly basking in the glory of belittling and humiliating.

“Okay, off you go now.” Harry nearly chokes on his own saliva, the breath from his lungs forced out.

“I can leave?”

“Yes, yes, go on. I do hope I’ll see you again soon, Harry.”

Y/N likes Niall very much.

Understandably, at first she was unsure; their first meeting not ideal to say the least.. A stranger appears in your home whilst you’re not there and it unnerves you some, to say the least. But he’s kind—really kind. And he gets her hesitation; doesn’t try to force an overbearing friendship which ultimately has Y/N opening much quicker than she usually would.

Niall basks in the joy of getting to tell tales about Harry—things he’s never really been able to tell anyone before. And Y/N can see how much he loves having the upperhand between the two for once—revels in narrating sneaky embarrassing stories whilst Harry isn’t there to tell him off. Y/N finds herself giggling and gasping, leaning towards Niall and holding onto his every word. 

It feels good to know more about Harry. And his closest friend.

Niall doesn’t pry either, which is an instant relief to Y/N. He doesn’t prod, or poke, or demand answers—he just fills the silence with lighthearted conversation which is all Y/N could ask for right now.

There is a moment where quiet overtakes them and Y/N’s mind drifts, just a little.

“Hey,” Niall says gently, “don’t you worry about a thing,” he smiles softly. “Harry’s the toughest sod I know.”

Y/N smiles back, not quite reaching her eyes but she appreciates his words.

“You know, one time…” Niall starts off again, detailing a story involving Harry, three vampires, and a lot of bite wounds. (In hindsight, maybe that isn’t the best story to tell but Niall is only trying to demonstrate Harry’s toughness!)

“You gossiping about me?” A familiar drawl sounds from behind them. Y/N gasps and twists around on the sofa to see a very normal looking Harry standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She hesitates, aware of Niall’s presence, until Harry opens his arms out.

“Come ‘ere, Bambi,” he smiles with tired eyes.

Y/N scrambles over to him, content in his arms as they wrap around her and she buries her face into his chest, inhaling not-so-subtly. She misses the look Harry and Niall give one another, a clear understanding between the two. 

“You look… fine?” Y/N says when she pulls back.

Harry laughs easily, “Fine? You wanted me to come home bloody and bruised, did you?” His hands span across her waist.

“No!” She exclaims, “I was worried, is all. That you would be hurt.”

He smiles, brushing his thumbs against her. “Are you alright?”

Niall chirps up at the question, “Excuse me, we had a lovely time, didn’t we, Y/N?” She nods. “Are you alright?” he mocks, “she’s bloody great.”

“Okay, Niall, I’m sorry for asking, I’ll never doubt you again.” Harry sighs but it’s playful.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Y/N asks, big eyes looking up at him. His heart softens and he’d kiss her if his friend wasn’t watching.

“I’m just fine, like you said.”

They must hold eye contact for longer than they realise, as Niall clears his throat.

“Are you two alright if I…”

“Yeah, o’course,” Harry says, briefly tearing his eyes away from Y/N. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. Niall nods, smiling back, and then he’s gone.

“So… Niall was telling me some interesting things about you.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N watches as Harry gets on his knees, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms with no intention of being erotic as he starts to swill out the bathtub. 

But Y/N is a little overwhelmed. He’s here, and they’re together…she thinks. She’s not sure but she doesn’t want to ask—wonders if it’s a silly thing to ponder. For its blatancy or how preposterous it may be.

So she focuses on the one thing she does know—Harry’s ridiculous allure. She watches his back contract under his shirt, stretching the material when he leans over to turn the tap off and his biceps strain when he swishes the water around to clean the tub.

If Harry hears the steady increase of her heart rate then he doesn’t say anything. Only puts the plug in, turns on the hot tap, and generously pours her nicest bubble bath in. And when he stands up from the floor and turns to face her, his mouth is upturned at her swoony expression.

“Pupils a bit big, sweetheart,” he teases, fingers trailing up her arm.

Y/N scoffs, “No, they’re not,” but she has no other point to her argument and no willpower to try to find one. So instead she closes her eyes.

“Hey, don’t hide them from me.” Harry’s fingers digs into her waist and she squeals, eyes snapping back open. “Mine are bigger than yours anyway,” he smiles before he lets the whites and irises of his eyes disappear for just a second.

Y/N still finds herself to be fascinated by his ability to do that, among many other things. But she’s not scared—never scared. “Show off,” she whispers.

“Only because I’m trying to impress you,” Harry leans closer, a wry grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Y/N pushes against his chest, “You’re corny,” but she’s smiling too, and her palms don’t budge him one bit as he covers them with his own and pulls her in further. She’s elated to be here with him but she feels herself not quite knowing how to act.

Harry notices (of course he notices). “You’re on edge, huh?” He looks guilty as he strokes her arms. “Gonna let me take care of you now?” He nods towards the tub. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed as she agrees with a hum. “You’ve got nothing to worry about anymore, I promise, Bambi.”

“Will—” she hesitates, talking once Harry turns his back to make sure the water temperature is okay. He looks over his shoulder. “Will you get in with me?” She supposes there’s no reason to be bashful but a bath is intimate—would Harry want that?

He just smiles and bites back a mocking comment. “I was planning on it,” and Y/N really doesn’t know what’s come over her to feel so shy all of a sudden, because she’d wanted him to get in with her but now she feels silly for even asking! You’ve already seen each other naked! She thinks, desperate to pull herself together.

“You’re overthinking, hm? Working yourself up,” Harry gently prompts, suddenly looming over her, focusing all of her senses.

“Sorry,” Y/N frowns, looking at the floor. Harry doesn’t chastise her, just cups her face softly and angles her head up before pressing his lips to hers. It’s not tactical; not intended to go anywhere, which he makes obvious by keeping his mouth closed. He kisses slowly, leaves her with a soft noise as they part, and then does it again. And again. Until Y/N is sighing—much more relaxed.

Harry pushes his hand under her shirt to rest on her tummy that he’s found himself growing somewhat obsessed with. He leans away from her to pull the fabric up her body and Y/N lifts her arms to make it easier. As soon as it lands in the corner of the room, Harry is back to doting, warm hands sliding up and down Y/N’s arms, along her shoulders to cup her face, down her back, along her waist.

Y/N would say she feels sufficiently warmed up already but Harry continues, kissing her innocently again as his hands move to push down her trousers, fiddling with the button. Y/N feels around for his own shirt, timidly pulling it up to reveal his broad back. Harry peels it over his head and in turn she steps out of her trousers.

“You’re so soft,” Harry whispers against her mouth, lips pouting to press another mindless kiss. His hands are eager to touch every inch of her skin. And soon enough they’re both clad in only underwear, Y/N huddling closer to Harry’s chest when he unclips her bra. “Ready to get in?” He asks, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N can feel every part of Harry against her back as she relaxes into his hold and it’s perhaps the most intimate moment of her life. She’s had sex less close than this. The thick of his thighs encasing her own, the span of his hands wandering her body—lathering her in soap—the feel of his hard chest and the softer parts of his tummy and hips, and the sure hardening of him against her.

Her head was surely muddled before they’d undressed, but now Y/N is confident she is a touch away from just floating off like a feather in the wind. Harry coats her skin in bubbles, encouraging in the way he coaxes her head onto his shoulder. When he dunks the sponge in the water and brings it back up to wash the foam away, Y/N’s breath hitches as the droplets hit her nipples and she feels Harry’s cheek squish up into a small smile.

“Breathe,” he speaks, turning his face into her temple. Y/N exhales shakily, nuzzling into him and Harry lays a delicate press of his lips between her brows before continuing his ministrations. “Are you feeling relaxed?” He asks, already aware of the answer. When Y/N nods hastily, Harry hums, “Not relaxed enough…” the words brushing against her skin, “I think I can do better.”

Gently, he lets the sponge float on the surface, replacing it with his hands as he runs his nails down her arms. Y/N’s chest is rising and falling at an obvious speed and her eyes are struggling to stay open; the anticipation affecting her considerably. “Would you feel better if I touched you…” his hands hover over her breasts, “...here?” He squeezes them far too softly but Y/N still lets out a noise—one that intensifies when Harry tugs and rolls her nipples between his fingers. “Is that nice, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Y/N exhales, unable to concentrate on anything other than the thrumming of her body.

“Are you g’na watch how good I make you feel?” He prompts, nudging her with his nose. Y/N feels like her eyes are glued shut but she makes the effort to peel them open, tilting her chin down to see Harry’s big hands cupping her. She feels a wave roll inside of her. “There’s a good girl,” he praises, and the wave gets bigger. She never tries harder than when he says those words. “You tell me, baby, what do you want me to do?”

Y/N’s never been asked that before. “Whatever you want,” she says to him; not for the first time.

“No,” Harry asserts, “what do you do when you’re alone, hm? How many fingers do you squeeze inside yourself?”

And Y/N would be scorching with embarrassment usually but the arousal she feels overpowers it. Though it’s still hard to speak, “I don’t— m’fingers aren’t long enough—o-or I’m just not good. Doesn’t do anything.”

She may as well have shot Niall right in front of Harry, the way he gasps. It’s mocking, of course, but he sounds genuinely dissatisfied with her answer. “That’s so sad, Bambi. Pretty pussy like yours should be getting stuffed full and satisfied.” His hands are still playing with her tits, running back and forth over the pebbled peaks, and squeezing the flesh which aids the pant she lets out from his erotic words. “You want me to teach you?” Y/N shakes her head no, too desperate for Harry’s touch. “No? You want my fingers?” She’s quick to agree as he trails a hand down her body, over her ribs, and her tummy, and her mound—daring to dip lower.

“Please?”

“Mm, mine are much longer and thicker than yours, aren’t they?” His other hand pinches her nipple and Y/N arches her back as her hips struggle to coax Harry lower. “Nothing in comparison to my cock though, Bambi. How are you g’na take me if you don’t even fuck yourself with your fingers, hm?”

“I will, I will!” She rushes out. “I can take you. Please touch me, Harry.” Y/N turns her face into his jaw and sponges open-mouthed kisses wherever she can reach.

“We’ll make it fit, won’t we?” Harry presses down on her clit and Y/N moans into his skin, nodding unabashedly. He travels lower to gather the wetness between her thighs. And Harry knows they’re submerged in water but the thick substance that coats his fingers is unmistakable—he wishes he could lap it up.

Harry’s cock is stiff against Y/N’s back and each time she arches and rests back against it, he sighs into her ear; pretty and provoked. She is thrumming—vibrating with want—never had anyone edge her so close to orgasming by hardly touching her. Her hands lay useless on Harry’s knees, subconsciously gripping him when he starts circling her clit with intent.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he orders, overly aware of her every move. It’s hard, not to just lay back and feel but Y/N keeps her eyes as open as possible, watching the flex of Harry’s wrist and the movement of his fingers over her. Her abdomen starts to flutter as he builds her up but Harry takes his hand away before she can start to give into it.

Y/N wants to whine and whinge but then his hand returns lower, fingers circling her entrance before he dips a single one inside. And his really are much longer and thicker than hers because it already feels better than when she tries and he’s only got one finger in.

Slowly, does Harry enter her, allowing for the adjust before deliciously curling and hitting the spongy place inside that has Y/N gasping and tightening her grip on Harry’s knees. She instinctively clenches around him; Harry has to bite back a tease about how desperate her body is and draws his finger back and forth inside of her warmth. Her eyes close for less than a second but in that time he pulls out of her and she snaps them back open, a plea on the tip of her tongue but it’s not necessary, as Harry sinks in a second finger beside the first and stretches her out some. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, but one of immense fullness and warm buzzing throughout her tummy as he perfectly stimulates her with every curl and drive.

“Y’squeezing me so tight,” Harry says, voice gravelly—turned on—as the hand holding Y/N’s breast moves down to her stomach to readjust and pull her tighter against him. She gazes at the vastness of his hand on her body and then to the one moving inside of her and another wave passes and pulsates between her legs and around Harry’s fingers as he speeds up, thumb stretching to pass over her clit in focused circles. “You’re g’na feel so good around my cock, Bambi,” he twitches against her back. “I can’t wait to fuck you.” Y/N mewls, body pushing into Harry’s hands. “You’ll let me, won’t you?” His breath is warm against her neck.

“Yes, anything,” she sighs, hand finding his and desperately gripping. He interlocks their fingers against her tummy as he starts to press contrastingly precious kisses to her jaw and neck. Y/N’s so close her body is tensing up in anticipation. “Please, please, please.”

“I’ve got you, come on, baby. Come f’me,” he litters kisses between breaths and Y/N is so close, so close. Throws her head back and lets her eyes shut—and Harry allows it, occupied by the stretch of her neck as he licks and sucks and rubs and fucks her until his fingers are being squeezed impossibly tight and she’s coming around him. She lets out the prettiest of noises, writhing in his grip as he guides her through her orgasm and his dick starts to become demanding the more she moves and moans, her body against him feeling like the softest of velvets or silks. 

But he ignores it; ignores everything but Y/N.

She blindly searches for his kiss, body melting in bliss as she comes down from the intense heights of pleasure. Mewling and sighing into him with each press of their open mouths. His fingers stay inside of her, reveling in the subtle but sure pulses she gives, unable to resist the urge of curling them a little to make her jump in his arms.

“You’ll become greedy for that,” he mutters against her lips before nibbling her bottom one and pulling back to look into her satisfied eyes—big and moony, just for him.

She hums, unashamed in her post-orgasmic haze. “Is it your turn now?”

ㅤㅤ

Harry wanted to devour her whole as soon as those words left her mouth—wanted to push her back and have his way with her. But the bath water was cooling, and their skin was getting all pruned, and realistically Harry knew that fucking her for the first time would not be happening in the tub. She deserved better than to be pounced upon in a claustrophobic box.

And Harry was already good at ignoring his needs so what difference would five minutes make?

He kisses her with a smile on his face, slowly pushing upwards to get out of the tub. Her gaze follows him hungrily, lips threatening to pout if he doesn’t start paying attention to her again immediately. But he gathers a towel and helps her out, wrapping her up—delicately and thoroughly drying her body. It’s hard for Harry not to swaddle her completely and smother her face in kisses but he resists.

Teasingly, he wanders her backwards towards her bedroom, towel still pressed to her body; watching how hard Y/N is trying not to make a fuss. He thinks she’s doing a pretty good job until he realises her true intentions, seemingly forgetting the speed of Harry’s reflexes. When the edge of Y/N’s bed touches her calf, she attempts to spin around—the motivation of pushing him down irresistible in her head. She barely turns a fraction, however, before Harry’s hand is clamping around her bicep and squashing their fronts together.

“No,” Y/N whines, “I was trying to be sexy.”

“You’re very sexy,” Harry smiles, nose dropping to rub against hers.

“But—” 

Harry knows what she wants. He also knows how prettily she begs for him, and how easily too. Thinks he wants to push that button a little.

“What does my needy baby want?”

Though it seems he’s underestimated her on this occasion, as she tries very hard to display bratty behaviour and stand her ground. Y/N crosses her arms across her chest, ripping the towel from Harry’s grasp to cover up by herself.

“You don’t wanna tell me?” He tries, wondering how quickly he’ll be able to dismantle her walls. When Y/N shakes her head, he ups his game. “S’not very nice, is it? Made you come on my fingers but you won’t be good f’me?” Her heart drops a little, guilt seeping in. But she won’t beg. She won’t.

“I—”

“I was gonna be so nice to you, little thing. Make you come around my cock until you couldn’t think straight… but if you can’t even tell me what you want then I guess you won’t get anything, huh.”

She’s gripping the towel so tightly, knuckles bulging. “I am… good,” she tries, eyes falling down to his nakedness. It looks near painful. All she wants is to taste him.

Harry hums, “You usually are. Where’s she gone? My good girl.” He covers her hands, removing them from the towel so he can tug her closer. “Just tell me what you want, baby. Always so pretty when you beg.” Harry dips down, pushing the towel to the floor as his lips meet her neck and his hands slide across her ribs, thumbs brushing over her nipples.

She’s done for; never stood a chance. Not really. She squeaks as he grazes his teeth along her skin. “I want you… in my mouth… please.” The words come out breathy, shallow. But they’re hardly desperate.

“You can do better than that,” Harry says, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Prove that you want it.”

And her shyness has returned some—so it’s harder for her—but she shuffles closer, palms gliding up his biceps. “I wanna… make you feel good. The way you do for me,” she whispers. And it’s so soft, Harry can’t help but be taken aback. It wasn’t begging in the way he was used to but his heart swells. “You deserve it all the time. Please let me.”

“All the time?” Harry smiles. “You want my cock in your mouth all the time?”

“Yes,” Y/N breathes, looser now. “Please?”

And who was he to say no? When she thought he deserved it so much.

Harry moves to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching behind him to grab one of her pillows to stuff under her knees as she kneels down. He strokes her hair, tucking it behind her ears and gathering it in his hands before it can fall around her face. Y/N rests her cheek on his knee, eyes glued to his shiny, red tip as it stands against his stomach.

“You trying to tease me, Bambi?” He tugs her hair a little.

“No…” she bites her lip to hide the smile, coyly looking up at him.

He doesn’t have to reply because Y/N’s leaning forward and licking a broad stripe along the entirety of him, eliciting a sigh from Harry as he watches her intently. She brings a hand up, angling him towards her mouth so she can kiss at his head, tongue darting out to taste the salty precome that’s spilling out of his slit. The grip in her hair tightens when she starts to suckle at him—she goes crazy for it, humming around his cock as she starts to move her hand up and down around him.

His noises have her thighs squeezing together; low and rumbling. Y/N knows they get higher in pitch the closer he is to coming and she is determined to get him there.

“Take me deeper,” Harry demands, hand wrapping around his base to encourage her. “Know you can.”

“Mhm,” Y/N hums around him, letting her jaw drop for Harry to feed his cock into her mouth. She can’t take all of him, but she tries all the same. Flutters her eyes shut and focuses on breathing through her nose as she drags her tongue along the underside of him and works whatever she can’t fit with her hand. When she starts to bob her head in coordinated movements and sucks her cheeks in, Harry’s abs tense and his head falls back on his shoulders.

“Hot little mouth,” he manages to say through a moan. “Made for me… made for my cock, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” When she hums again and the vibrations shoot through him, he bucks slightly, gagging her on him. Y/N retracts sharply but her insides still flip-flop about. “Fuck,” Harry groans, pulling her off him by her hair. Her hand doesn’t stop as she catches her breath. “Sorry, baby, feels so good.”

Her rounded out eyes look at him like he’d carved the Earth for her personally. She really would let him do anything.

“You wanna make me come?” He strokes her cheek as she nods. “Go on then. Make me come and then I’ll put my cock in you.” Harry relishes in the way Y/N’s eyebrows cinch together at the excitement and desperation, and her thighs squeeze impossibly tight as she takes him back into her mouth. She has a newfound determination, taking him as far down her throat as she can go before withdrawing to take a deep breath and then continuing. Her hand twists and squeezes, moving up to thumb at his drippy head when she leans back to breathe—and Harry’s chest is heaving more and more, eyes slipping in and out of their demonic state as she works him.

It’s when she leans back down as start tonguing at his frenulum that Harry moans and twitches, leaking out and into her mouth. “Yeah—yes, fuck. Keep going.” A whine gets caught in his throat as his head falls forward, chin touching his chest and his jaw loose. They make eye contact as she stretches her lips back around his tip, sucking and licking—so desperate to taste his come. And he’s close, moans after every breath and struggles keeping his hips down.

“G’na come,” Harry whines. “G’na come down your throat.” Y/N mewls around him, sinking further down and speeding up her hand until she starts to feel the warm spurts filling her mouth. Harry’s noises make her spine tingle as he praises her, “Good girl— swallow it all—so good. Fuck,” hands threading gently through her hair as he comes down.

ㅤㅤ

He barely softens, grateful for his demon stamina because he thinks he might drop dead if he doesn’t get inside Y/N in an instant. “Come ‘ere,” he says with a rumble, pulling her up by her underarms until she’s straddling Harry’s hips. His cock rubs against the both of them, spreading saliva and precome across their stomachs. Y/N surges forward, catching his mouth in desperation as she grinds down, angling herself to rub her wetness against his dick.

“In,” she whines against his lips, clit perfectly stimulated as she humps him. “Want it in now, please.”

Harry strokes his tongue against hers, licking into her like she’s made of honey whilst he takes a hold of himself, smearing her arousal as he paints his head through her folds. Y/N gasps, hips stuttering when she feels his thick mushroom tip prod against her entrance.

“Relax f’me, baby. Breathe nice and slow.” She listens, inhaling as deep as she can as she slowly lowers down. The stretch of him is nearly overwhelming but it’s delicious and her hands have to shoot out for grounding, one landing on Harry’s shoulder and the other cupping his cheek. He tilts his face into it, pressing a soft kiss to the spongy part of her palm. “That’s good,” he whispers as he gets deeper and deeper inside of her, “you’re so beautiful.” Y/N’s eyes squeeze shut with emotion, forehead dropping against Harry’s.

He’s fully inside her now and Y/N is sitting on him, adjusting to the feel and trying not to squirm. Harry starts teasing again once he feels her begin to grind her clit against his pelvis. “You gonna ride me?” Y/N nods, lifting up slightly before dropping back down. “You think your wobbly little legs will be able to cope with that, Bambi?” Harry grins, pushing forward to kiss her open mouth.

“I can do it,” Y/N whimpers, lifting up further. “I can.” She drops back down harder, moaning at the feeling of Harry hitting that spot inside of her. He maintains much more composure than she does, looking at her through his lashes as she starts to bounce up and down, and sliding his palms across her back.

“Am I filling you up good?” Y/N whines, nodding. “Told you we’d make it fit, didn’t I? Taking me so well, baby.” And he places a hand on her lower stomach, pressing in slightly with a smirk on his face. “Can you feel me here?”

“Uh-huh, so big,” Y/N moans, looking down to see his large hand span across her.

“G’na make you feel empty without me,” Harry promises, leaning down to take one of Y/N’s breasts into his mouth, sucking a mark into her skin. Her thighs are already starting to burn—each movement harder than the last as their bodies slap against one another.

“Harry,” Y/N mewls, hands threading through his hair. He hums into her chest, moving to her other breast and giving it the same treatment. His hands hold tightly onto her waist, assisting her movements up and down on his cock more and more until he finally leans back.

“You need my help now, don’t you? Told you you couldn’t do it, little thing.” Y/N frowns, grip tightening in Harry’s hair. “Just need me to take care of you.”

“Please,” she begs—for what exactly she’s not sure but Harry knows what she needs.

Confidently, Harry grips the underside of Y/N’s thighs, shuffling back on the bed so he can pull his knees up. She doesn’t get long enough to prepare before Harry starts fucking up into her with no warning. Y/N struggles, but she manages to throw her arms around his neck, hiding her face into the side of his as he pounds into her—the harsh clapping sounds of their bodies hitting each other echoing throughout the room.

She’s so wet, it’s surprising that there isn’t a puddle on Harry’s abdomen as he holds her up and drives his cock into her again, and again. Y/N is a mess of noise, mouth stuck open and whimpering into Harry’s skin as he fucks her until she can’t think of anything else.

“My little human just takes whatever I give her, huh?” His deep, punctuated voice mixed with mocking words sends her already muddled brain into even more of a tizzy.

“Only you—feels so good,” Y/N manages to cry. “I’m g’na—”

“—Look at me,” Harry weaves a hand through her hair and pulls her out of his neck. “Look at me when I make you come. All over my cock, yeah?”

“Yes—yes, all over,” Y/N keeps her half-lidded eyes on him; a monumental struggle when Harry moves his hand from her hair to her clit, rubbing messily over her. His pounding subsides none, getting harder if anything—going balls deep with every thrust—and all she wants is to collapse into him but she doesn’t look away, despite how kinked her brows become and how much her body screams at her to throw her head back.

It hits her staggeringly, eyes fighting to roll into the back of her head as she cries out and squeezes Harry’s cock, orgasm stifling her. He slows down his thrusts, hands rubbing soothingly into her back as she mindlessly whimpers his name.

“I know, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he tenderly adjusts them, flipping her onto her back so she can melt into the mattress. “Have you got one more? Can you give me one more, baby?” He asks, her cunt still pulsating around him.

“Slow,” Y/N whispers, eyes blurry, “please.”

Harry leans down, pressing sweet kisses to her forehead, eyebrows, nose, cheeks, hips pushing into her breathtakingly slowly. A lazy smile overtakes her features as Harry dotes on her, pouting up at him with a spacey expression. He complies easily, moulding his lips to hers. It’s gentle, the sound their mouths make as they part—Harry traces his thumb across her bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it snap back up before licking her open and feeding her his tongue.

It’s hard for Y/N to muster up the strength enough to kiss him back, and her reactions are delayed, but Harry doesn’t mind; happy to be so close. 

And in a moment of vulnerability he quietly asks, “You really want me?”

Y/N knows he’s not talking about sex, bringing a leaden hand up to his face and stroking his cheek. “More than anything, Harry.”

His heart inflates ten times the size of his chest, he’s sure—he’s never known anything to feel so good, but Y/N was his person, and she wanted him.

Harry’s orgasm approaches rapidly at her words, and he’s desperate to get Y/N there again, hand trailing down her body to find her puffy clit. She jumps at the feeling.

“Shh, I know you’re sensitive, baby. Just need one more,” he kisses her again. “Be good f’me and then I’ll give you my come.” Y/N whines, trying to turn her head into the mattress. “Where would you like it? On your tits? Your ass?” He thrusts in harder. “I think I’d like it on your tummy, what d’you think?”

“Yes,” Y/N moans, unspecific in her agreement.

Harry laughs. “You don’t think anything, do you? Just lay there all pretty and let me do all the hard work.” His hips snap against her harder and harder—pace still slow but he’s hitting her spongy spot unquestionably as Y/N grips onto his biceps that bulge underneath her palms.

“Harry,” she cries, pussy starting to flutter around him.

He groans, “Fuck, squeeze my cock like that. You feel so good.”

He stretches down, taking her nipple into his mouth and tonguing over the pebbled peak. The sound of his balls thwacking against her ass reverberates, and Y/N’s moans compete for volume as she contracts tighter, and tighter around him. 

“Y’my person, en’t that right?” He circles her clit faster.

Y/N nods, neck stretching as she turns her head about against the sheets. Desperately, she grasps at his back, silently begging for his closeness. Harry drops down, hand trapped between them awkwardly but the weight of him delights her considerably as he hits deeper inside of her.

“Yours,” she exhales. “Please come, Harry.”

His hips stutter, nearly shooting right inside of her. “You first, baby.” Harry speeds up his hand and rolls her other nipple between his teeth. “Soak me.”

Y/N clamps down around him, tightness hurling Harry closer, as she comes for the third time that night. Her mouth opens in a silent cry, so exhausted but so blissful. Her nails dig into his skin and he relishes in the sharp pain, pulling his hand away to coax his wet fingers into her mouth. 

Watching Y/N’s satisfied expression as she cleans his fingers is enough to make Harry come, pulling out of her quickly and fisting his hand over his cock a couple of times before he’s painting her stomach white. He groans, head hanging low with his eyes fighting to stay locked with Y/N’s.

And then he’s flopping down on top of her, uncaring of the come he’s lying on. He’ll get up in a minute, find a washcloth and clean them both up, before gathering her up in his arms and praying to God (if he has to) that this isn’t a dream.

He thinks that after eighty years of killing and feeling like he’d found his purpose, that his life has new meaning now. That this is what he was meant to do. That Y/N is his purpose.

ㅤㅤ

“Harry?” Her soft voice pulls him from his head and he pushes back just enough to look down at her sleepy face. “I’m so happy,” she smiles, “and I’m so glad Imogen is a useless angel.”

He laughs, from deep within his chest, and leans down to smear their lips together—unable to kiss her for long without breaking into a smile—before pulling back and whispering against her forehead.

“Me too, Bambi, me too.”

[rafedaddy01]

I know I have some requests that I should be working on but this has been in my drafts for a while and I wanted to share it!

Warnings: mentions of death

Carolina- based on the song by Taylor swift

Oh, Carolina creeks

Running through my veins

Lost I was born, lonesome I came

Lonesome I'll always stay

Carolina knows

Why for years I roam

Free as these birds, light as whispers

Carolina knows

Her and Rafe have been dating for a year now, they were together through thick in thin, but what happens when she witnesses the love of her life murder someone in hopes to help his father..

And you didn't see me here

No, they never did see me here

Rafe didn’t know she was watching. She followed him that day. She had seen the erratic behavior from him recently and she felt for him, she knew the disapproving nature of his father towards him. She knew something was wrong with him.

She stood behind the fence on the runway as Rafe held the gun up, one shot going off making her jump. Watching as Rafe appeared behind the aircraft. “I saved you dad” her boyfriend spoke as tears ran down his face. She was in shock. Her own tears falling as he clasped her mouth to cover her cries.

And she's in my dreams

Into the mist, into the clouds

Don't leave

I make a fist, I'll make it count

And there are places I will never ever go

And things that only Carolina will ever know

She ran home frantically. Desperate to be far away from him as possible, she didn’t know what to do with the thoughts racing through her mind. ‘Should she call someone’ ‘who would she call?’ ‘Could she turn the man she loved in..?’

She paced in her room, thoughts invading her mind. She picked up her phone and opened the message with Rafe. She typed; “I know what you did” she hesitated on pressing send. Should she tell him she knew or should she act as if nothing has happened? Tears filled her water like as she fell to the ground, sobbing.

How could he do this?

Carolina stains

On the dress she left

Indelible scars, pivotal marks

Blue as the life she fled

Carolina pines

Won't you cover me?

Hide me like robes down the back road

Muddy these webs we weave

She mustered the courage to pull herself off the ground, getting under the sheets and drifting off to sleep with soft sobs.

“Good morning baby” her eyes fluttering open, she nearly jumped at the arms wrapped around her. Rafe.

She pushed the memories of yesterday down. “Good morning” her voice shaky as she tried to hide her fear. “You look so beautiful when you sleep” he smiled down at her. How could he act so normal after taking an innocent life.

“Rafe what are you doing here?” She asked. “I missed my baby” he leaned in for a kiss, she pulled back. “What’s wrong” he asked scrunching his eyebrows together. “Nothing. Nothing” she hesitated as she leaned into his lips. He pulled back. “Y/n.. what’s wrong?” His tone firm as he stared down at her.

And you didn't see me here

No, they never did see me

“Rafe.. nothing. Don’t be silly, give me a kiss” she swallowed her fear, she knew if she told Rafe she was there yesterday he would be very angry with her, and seeing what he was capable of, she was scared for her life..

“Y/n don’t fucking lie to me. Your shaking! What’s wrong” he shouted a bit to loud, making her jump.

“Rafe.. please!” She cried. “I’m fine really..” she held back her sobs as Rafe pushed himself off the bed and paced the room, massing his temples with the palm of his hands.

“I don’t like when people lie to me, you know that..” he shouted as he came closer to her and gripped her face, roughly squishing her cheeks together and holding her jaw.

“What. Is. Wrong” he spoke, pausing between each word.

And she's in my dreams

Into the mist, into the clouds

Don't leave

I'll make a fist, I'll make it count

And there are places I will never ever go

And things that only Carolina will ever know

“Where were you yesterday Rafe?” She asked looking up at him. His eyes narrowed as he listened to her words. “What?” He asked pushing her back, her head hitting the bed frame. “Why would you ask me that? You know I was with topper.” He snapped back at her. “Rafe..” “What are you asking me y/n? Huh?” He shouted. She jumped back and gripped the sheets over her body.

Oh

Oh

Oh

“I saw you yesterday.. Rafe.. you killed- you killed somebody” her eyes filling with tears. She could hear the deep sign leave his body.

“How-how could you do that Rafe! Why!” She shouted back at him. “Do you have any idea how that affects me? How am I supposed to feel safe around you when I’ve seen what your capable of!?”

And you didn't see me here

They never did see me here

No, you didn't see me here

They never saw me

Rafe stood up and watched her, pressing his tongue on the inside of his cheek as his eyes watered. “You don’t know what your talking about” he shook his head. “You don’t know what you saw..” he spoke quietly, hanging his head.

“Rafe! I know what I saw. You killed sheriff peterkin!” She said a bit too loud.

“Hey! You shut the fuck up!” He came up to her and clasped a hand over her mouth. She struggled under him, trying to break free from his grasp. “Shh, I’m sorry baby. Your just talking to loud” he said.

Oh, Carolina knows

Why for years they've said

That I was guilty as sin

And sleep in a liar's bed

But the sleep comes fast

And I'll meet no ghosts

It's between me, the sand, and the sea

Carolina knows

She fought harder under his grip and he got more frustrated as she whined under him. His grip was quieting the loud shrieks she tried to let out.

“Baby stop fighting! I’ll explain if you calm down!” He said pressing into her harder.

She sobbed as she shook her end, never letting up. Trying to kick free and push Rafe off of her. She tried biting him but his grip on her mouth was too strong, his hand covered her nose and mouth, finding it hard to breath she freaked out more, fighting for air to enter her lungs she kicked harder and sobbed as he looked into her eyes, his own tears falling.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry. We can’t risk you telling anybody. I love you..” the last she heard before her eyes fluttered shut and her body went limp.

I hope this makes sense. I’ve never actually seen “where the crawdets sing” which is what this song is based off of, but I was going for a little thriller I guess. Reader isn’t dead (or maybe she is 🤫) lmk if I should continue this..

[edupunkn00b]

Decoherence, Ch. 16: Our Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow

Creative Commons 1.0 Public Domain

Prev - Our Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow - Masterpost - [ AO3 ] - Playlist

"'There's a great, big, beautiful tomorrow shining at the end of every day'" The Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow by Cory Doctorow

WC: 1610 - Rated: T - CW: swearing, alcohol mention -

2027, April 30, London, England

Lo and Lucas sat together in the back, neither seeming willing to let go of the other for much longer than it took to buckle their seatbelts. Remus leaned in and pressed a kiss against Lo’s temple before he closed the door, catching Lucas’ whisper, “Husband, huh?”

Remus didn’t hear what Lo said next, but he was smiling at him in the rearview mirror when he sat in the driver’s seat. “In seventeen universes,” he murmured, nodding. He started the engine, the low electric whine doing little to cover their conversation.

“I’m glad you weren’t alone,” Lucas said, pulling Lo closer.

“But I was…” Lo’s head dipped lower than the mirror, but Remus couldn’t miss the choked sob hiding behind his words. “For a long time.”

The brothers fell quiet, unspeaking for the rest of the journey back to his and Lo’s home. The drive was short, and Remus’ eyes flicked up to catch Lo’s in the mirror as he pulled into the garage beneath their building. Fresh tears welled and he nodded slowly, the same thought striking them both. All these years, and his missing brother was mere kilometers from their London flat.

Remus got out first and opened the door for the brothers. They clung to each other still, as though each were afraid the other would disappear in smoke and dreams if he let go. He smiled and stayed close, taking Lo’s other hand when they reached the elevator.

“Did you…” Lo finally broke the silence, his hesitation, the fear in his voice stabbing through Remus’ chest. “Did you know I lived so close?”

Lucas looked away. “I…” His voice broke and they rode in silence until the elevator opened on their floor. “I thought I was imagining you. I…” He sighed and looked down at Lo’s hand wrapped around his. “I imagine a lot of things when I’ve been drinking.”

“Were you dodging me?”

He closed his eyes and whispered, “Yes. I… I pushed for a daytime schedule. Weekdays. When you’d be at work.”

Lo nodded, accepting his answer, even if it hurt to hear.

They got to the door and Remus quickly unlocked it and ushered them inside. “Why don’t you two have some tea. I’ll, uh…” Lo caught his eye and nodded. Their bottle of whiskey was on the nightstand. It would be easier to keep it out of Lucas’ hands if he never saw it. He hid the bottle in the cabinet under the bathroom sink then hurried back.

As he approached the kitchen, though, he slowed, listening to their low voices. Lucas was crying. Remus stood in the hall for a few breaths before retreating to the linen closet and pulling out the air mattress and extra sheets and blankets. It sounded like tonight was going to be a sleepover in the living room kind of evening.

Remus took his time shifting around the furniture, pushing the coffee table to one side and making up the air mattress into a cozy bed. He’d lay out a blanket and pillows on the couch when they were ready to sleep. Lucas’ build was similar to Lo’s, so he pulled out an extra set of his pajamas and set those in the corner with the other blankets.

Finally, he edged down the hall and poked his head into the kitchen. Logan smiled up him and beckoned him closer, but Lucas looked down at his tea.

“Hey, uh…” Lucas winced as he looked up. “Sorry I… punched ya there,” he muttered. “Maybe not the best way to get to know my brother-in-law, huh?”

Remus laughed, playfully wacking his shoulder, “Fuck that ‘in-law’ noise. After you draw blood, we’re real brothers.”

“Told you so,” Lo muttered to Lucas, failing to hide his smile behind his cup.

Lucas snorted, shaking his head. “You have any brothers?” Still grinning, Remus raised an eyebrow and Lucas laughed. “Okay, any other brothers?”

“I have an identical twin,” he said. “Lo snagged the better looking one,” he added with a laugh.

Lo didn’t respond out loud, just gave him the same ‘what part of identical don’t you understand’ look he always gave him when he made that joke and Remus leaned over and brushed a little kiss against his temple. His busted lip throbbed at the contact and he wondered how bad it must look before he shrugged it away and opened the freezer.

“How does tortellini sound to you two?”

~

The sun had just begun to set by the time they’d finished eating and the last dish was dried and put away. Lucas ate like it was a competitive sport and Remus tried not to notice how much the bones in his wrists and near his jaw protruded under his skin.

There wasn’t much nutrition in alcohol and with the kind of wages he must’ve made working part time at Aldi’s, it was clear what kinds of decisions he was making to keep himself intoxicated and stuck in this universe.

Remus put on another pot of tea and shooed the brothers out to the livingroom to get comfortable. When he joined them, they were sitting on the floor in front of the couch, backs against the seats. “Have you ever tried to hop again?” Lo was saying as Remus set down the tray.

Lucas took a cup before he spoke, addressing the steaming tea instead of his brother. “Yeah,” he finally whispered. “I…” He let out a low sigh, shame painting his features. “I… It works. When I don’t drink, I… I wake in a new world. Sometimes…”

When he trailed off, Lo touched his arm and Remus settled on his other side. “Sometimes what, Lucas?” Lo gently prodded.

“I’ve seen you, I’ve…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “It was only twice, but… I woke up and I had pictures of you in my room.” Lucas eyed Remus. “Both of you. Your wedding, I guess.”

He looked around the living room, the television in one corner, bookshelves lining the other walls. Pictures of Ro’s family. Lucas pointed at a picture of the four of them posing on a picnic blanket out at Richmond Park. “Your kid, too.”

“He’s our nephew,” Lo shook his head, but his words from last night bubbled up in Remus’ memory. He’d said there were universes where Virgil was their son.

Remus held his mug a little tighter, spiky fear poking his stomach as he shoved away the natural conclusions his mind drew him to. They were Virgil’s uncles. His godparents. If that changed, that meant…

“He’s not your nephew everywhere, though, huh?”

“No,” Lo admitted in a whisper.

“It’s okay to cry,” Lo murmurs, one arm hooked through mine as we stand together on the edge of the pier. His other is wrapped around Virgil, finally asleep against his shoulder, Lo’s shirt soaked from his tears.

My hands shake as I hold the box of Ro’s and his husbands’ ashes and quiet tears pour down my face. “He loved this beach,” I whisper, the wind pushing up over the waves threatening to swallow up my words. “They all did.”

Lo nods and kisses my shoulder. “They did,” he agrees.

I wait until the wind changes direction and blows back out to the sea, then open the box and let the ashes spill out. Together, we watch part of their remains pepper the waves.

“Do you think he’ll be mad I kept some?” I ask, throat closing up.

“No,” Lo murmurs, confident, sure. “I’ve lost my brother, too…” I nod and wrap my arms around what was left of our family. Virgil’s fleece hoodie soft under one hand, my other curls through Lo’s hair. “I would do the same if I could.”

“Meus?” Lo whispered, reaching to touch his cheek. His hand came away wet.

Remus blinked and scrubbed at his face. “Sorry, just a…”

“A memory?” Lucas asked, eyes soft with understanding.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah.”

~

The sky was fully dark when they’d finished their tea, and Remus quickly washed up while Lucas and Logan readied for bed. Laughing, Lucas insisted they take the queen sized air mattress. “If you’re not going to sleep in your own bed, at least you get to sleep next to your husband.” He hip checked Lo, shaking his head with a bright smile that made him look more like his brother than Remus had seen so far. “Big dork.”

“Takes one to know one,” Lo muttered in a sing-song, unable to dull his own grin.

“That’s Mr. Dork to you,” Lucas retorted, pulling up the covers.

Remus turned off the light and lay down next to Lo, pulling him close, and Lo melted against him. For the second night in a row, he lay with his husband, his love, his Lo in his arms. Tucking his face into the crook of Lo’s neck, he breathed in his scent, the last rusty barb in his heart finally releasing. He was home.

As the three of them settled in the near darkness, though, Lucas’ earlier mirth fizzled away and a quiet heaviness fell over the room. “Lo?” he asked, barely louder than a whisper. “What happens if you’re not here, or… or there when I wake up tomorrow?”

One arm holding tight to Remus, Lo snaked his other hand out from under the blankets and reached for his brother’s. “Then we’ll find you again, Lucas,” he whispered, and a shiver went down Remus’ spine at the steel in his voice.

“Well, shit, when you say it like that…” Lucas chuckled dryly. He reached out and ruffled Lo’s hair. “See you in the morning, little brother.”

“We’ll see you in the morning, Lucas.”

[elizapreg]

Tale of Alora- Chapter 15: Reverberations

Chapter 15: Reverberations

It took only a few hours for the citizens of Delrym to recover physically. By the time they did, Alora, Nelia, and Ben had returned to the inn. Jandyce and Beth stayed behind to explain the situation to the townsfolk. Even in their room, Alora’s sharp hearing could pick out the obvious division in whether or not the town should allow them to stay. Sitting in silence, Alora looked over to Nelia, who had taken to the bed. Even with the demon under the sheets, Alora could tell her friend was sobbing quietly. Turning towards Ben, Alora nodded for them to go to the other room and talk.   Closing the door to the main room behind him, Ben sat across from Alora, his head hung low. “I can’t believe I let this happen… I was supposed to protect you. You are only here because of me…” Alora looked down at her belly. Her dress is a bit scuffed and dusty from the trial. Even still her abdomen ached from the contractions caused by her outburst, the large swell still quite tight.  “You are starting to sound as hard on yourself as me. That’s not like you. You’re supposed to be the positive one here” She says, putting her hand on his knee. “I know I don’t say it as often as I should, but you are the only reason I’ve been able to handle these past 16 months. Sure I’m like this because of  you, but it was an accident. I don’t blame you seriously. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But you have done the best you can.” Ben looks at the small hand on his leg. “I’ll do better going forward. I have to. I won’t fail you again…” Alora smiled as best she could in the moment. “I know you will do what you can… But right now, we need to make a plan. Nelia… is obviously in a bad place. We should probably avoid bringing up what hap-” “You want someone to blame? Blame me.” Came Nelia’s voice from the other side of the door. “They are here for me, remember? I’m her ‘prize’ after all.” Opening the door, Nelia looked in, her tear stained cheeks doing little to hide her somber look. “I’m not totally sure what it is that makes me that prize, but obviously I’m the reason all this is happening. Not you two.” Ben stood up, grabbing Nelias arm to walk her back to bed only for her to pull it away. “NO!”  She shouted. “Now isn’t the time for me to rest. Now is the time for me to tell you everything I know.” “You’ve told us enough. You have had a traumatic day, you should really go rest.” Alora said with a worried tone.   “I’ve made up my mind!  I should have come clean about this a long time ago.” Nelia said, quickly plopping herself down in the seat Ben was previously in. Leaning back against the wall as she rubbed her bump a bit, she looked over to Alora.

“I’m going to tell you what I remember about my imprisonment, then we will all be on the same page, okay?” The demon girl explained uncharacteristically seriously. “You two comfortable? It could take a few hours.” Ben sat down on the ground across from Nelia, next to Alora. “Okay. Tell us your story Nelia.”    

—-------- “Another nice morning” Nelia thought to herself as she walked back toward her homestead from watering the horned corn.  Her father always told her ‘horned corn must be shorn before the morn’ and so no day could begin without Nelia first visiting the rows of that special crop.  Looking at the modest dwelling she called home, she paused to search each window for some sign of life- smoke coming from the kitchen, or the movement of someone by the window. It had been nearly 3 years of her working in solitude since her parents went to serve the king. Neighbors would come by and help with the crops from time to time, and she would hire out as needed. But most days it was just her and the rows and rows of crops. Choosing not to head back to the house just yet, Nelia ran her arms through her thick, long mane of hair and plopped down on a stump to look over the fields. Then in the distance, something caught her eye.  It was a small plume of dust.  Someone was coming down the long, winding road from the horizon to her gate. “That’s strange… who could be coming to see me?” She thought. It was still a few weeks before the King's servants were to come by and collect on the yearly tribute of her harvest. Despite a small twinge of hope that she might be getting some company, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy about whatever it was coming her way.  She got up and brushed herself off, making her way over to the front gate regardless. After a few moments a large carriage pulled up. Looking at its markings and obvious quality, she could immediately tell it was from the royal fleet.  Her heart sank. “What can I do for you? I thought the tribute wasn’t due for another few weeks. Is something wrong?” Nelia called to whoever rode inside.   She could feel her anxiety growing the longer the silence went on. An unannounced visit only served to remind her of her parents' sudden departure. As she walked around to peer inside the carriage, she jumped back as the door swung open and a large demon stepped out from inside. His armor and weaponry was hardly a deterrent compared to his glare, and Nelia quickly found herself standing tense before him.   “You are Nelia, correct? Daughter of Zoran and Ezzura?” The hulking demon asked bluntly.

Nelia nodded in response. “Yes. I am, what can I do for you sir….” “Reije, I am Reije. But what you can do for me is irrelevant. I am simply here to present him, '' Reije explained, gesturing over his shoulder into the carriage, where a wrinkled, hunched-over old man in ornate robes sat, looking back at her with a stare even more intense than that of the massive hunter who accompanied him.   “Yes, thank you for the introduction Reije.” The old demon said before addressing Nelia. “I have had many dealings with your parents, young one, come in, take a seat.” Nelia looked up at Reije who stood aside to let her enter. She hesitated for just a moment before stepping up into the carriage.  As she got in she could immediately feel something different. The aura of this strange visitor was noticeable even to the untrained like her.  Yet, despite the chill going down her spine, Nelia could feel something…slimy about him.  His eyes stared straight ahead and yet she felt them looking her over, lingering just a bit too long in places that weren’t her face. “Yes, my name is Dragol. I am the Arch-Warlock of Yshalis. I am tasked with overseeing the King and Queen's many magical duties. I assume you have had little formal schooling, yes? Living out here so far, you don’t hear much I’m sure.” Nelia wrinkled her nose, wanting to be offended by this comment first and foremost, but her rational brain reminded her that she was sitting across from an Arch-Warlock. “Yes sir. My parents taught me what they could, but as the only child most of my time was spent on the land. Is that, uh, a problem?” Dragol shook his head and chuckled. “No no.. it is quite alright.  Farmers are such…fertile ground for opportunity. You farmers have been the ones keeping our realm alive after all. It would be unjust for me to condemn the costs of that lifestyle. But speaking of your parents, I spent some time with them while they were on their assignment, and it turns out you are of a bloodline that remains incorrupt all the way back to before the Great Failure, correct?” “The Great Failure?” Nelia asked, “And to be blunt sir, I don’t know much about my bloodline personally.” The elder shrugged a bit at her reply. “I see, maybe your parents called it something else, the Great War of Conquest perhaps?” “Ah yeah. I have heard of that.” Nelia spoke up, “By that you mean when those of our realm attempted to take over the other realms, only to be beaten back?” “Yes yes. And after said defeat the number of our people was reduced dramatically, and even now we proud Demons are only a fraction of our former glory.” Dragol explained, obviously quite upset at explaining their failure. “You see, those who survived that Great Failure, most were of a sort of ‘lower stock’ if you will. Demons like Reije out there are few in number.  The strongest, purest of us were on the front lines of that war, each proud and determined to stake their claim in our conquest. But there are a handful of bloodlines that still produce these higher grades of demon. Your line seems to be one, which is why your lot has been able to farm so much land with so little help. You are a strong family, and thus are of great interest to those of my circle.” “Is that why my parents were called away?” Nelia asked suddenly “Yes, yes, it seems you understand.” Dragol explained smirking. “They have their role to play, and have served honorably in both roles.  Hearing of their success in rearing certain kinds of life, including a daughter of your age and strength, I had to come and meet you for myself. Seeing you now, I feel I can offer you a certain…position.” Nelia raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean by position?” “I’m getting to that, patience.” Dragol said, a bit annoyed. “Nelia, you are one of an estimated 9 young demons who fit a very specific category. You are young, strong, and of a beneficial bloodline that exists entirely outside the Great Failure. The Queen and King have a lofty dream, one that will wipe away the shame of the Failure and restore our people to their once great status. When you accept this role, you will potentially be heralded as a savior of our people.”

Nelia nodded as he explained. “Well it seems you are dancing around what that role is sir.” She put her hands on her knees as if ready to stand. “Someone has to farm these crops though, so I’m sure I'm more use to the kingdom here as a farmer-”

“I said WHEN,” Dragol called out, Reije in return blocking her only exit. Nelia slumped back down in the seat, turning back to the old man sternly.   “You don’t seem to understand your potential, Nelia.  You are to be one of the few to be part of a glorious plan. I will not allow a vessel such as you to slip away.  Rest now for your trip to the capitol.” Dragol scowled, lifting his hands as a blinding flash of light is the last thing Nelia saw before she felt herself slumping over, unconscious.

—----------

After some time, Nelia awakened to find herself in pitch blackness. She could tell she was laid on some sort of stone slab.  Nelia tried lifting her hands to rub her aching head, but she could feel something like heavy chains on them. To her surprise, she could still move somewhat freely, although she could tell she wouldn’t be able to move far.   “Hello?” She called out as loud as she can, before wincing at the pain in her head. “Hello, where am I?” Sliding off the slab, she struggled to her feet in the darkness.  She could immediately tell her balance was off as she reached out and steadied herself on the wall.  Her whole body felt off, as if some part of her was missing, or no…the opposite, however that worked.   “HELP! I Don’t know where I am! What am I doing he-” She was cut off by the door swinging open, and a large figure silhouetted in the light of the hallway.   “I am King Yshalis. Now be silent.” The large figure commanded.   The force of his command hit Nelia from all directions, and she fell back against the wall, forced to look up at the King.

“I see you told the truth, Dragol. Glad to see at least one vessel survived the process.  See that she stays alive long enough.” He said before turning around to exit as quickly as he had entered, with Dragol standing behind him holding a torch.   “Process.. What process?” Nelia called out, her head finally starting to clear from its haze, as Dragol walked in.   “You simple girl. I understand you’ve been sedated with powerful magic but could you really be this dense?  The other vessels had at least an iota of warrior’s pride about them.  Of all of them, it had to be you that lived?  Such tripe.” The old man said as he hobbled towards her, her eyes beginning to adjust to the bright light of the flame. “You bear such power already.  How must it feel?” “Bear?  W-what do you mean…” Nelia said before her vision fully cleared.  She felt a gnarled hand against her stomach, but from what she could see Dragol had not reached far enough.  His hand just wasn’t close enough.  The skin by her waist and below her chest tingled.  Suddenly, it felt like her back was stretching and her hips were being forced down.  Something…growing. She tilted her head downward.  She didn’t see her thighs.  She could barely see her feet.  Instead, there was now a round, bulging hump of flesh sticking out from her body.  Her brain swelled trying to figure out what happened.  She was on her farm- smell of corn in her nose, morning sun warm on her skin, and then…a carriage.  This old man then… nothing.  And now.  Now her body wasn’t her own.  Now there was this thing.  Now she’d somehow- somehow been made to bear…something.  Was this a baby?  This looked like the kind of belly a baby came in, but babies were born in bedrooms, not dungeons!  How long had she been asleep?  What else did they do to her?  Nelia couldn’t process it all.  Sliding down the wall in shock, she inhaled ready to scream, only for Dragol to put a cold, withered hand over her mouth.

“Oh come now. That's no way to react. For you are the key to our future. A demon like no other. Can’t have you wasting your strength, for tomorrow, we begin the tests.”  “BEN Wake up you ass!” Alora shouts, kicking the Human’s shin.   “What!?! I’m awake, I'm awake.. I was just resting my eyes, I haven't slept in days…” Nelia couldn’t help but laugh watching the two bickering, feeling almost relieved she’d been interrupted anyway.   “I’m sorry Nelia, ignore this idiot.” Alora said, scowling at Ben. “So you're telling me you were like this once you woke up?” Nelia looked down at her belly. “Yeah. I can only assume whatever is in here has some vital importance to their plan.” She explained tapping a finger on the bump. “Apparently I was the only girl they captured who survived whatever they did. I don’t know if I was unconscious, or blocked the process from my mind, but after that they came in and cast various spells on me, some did nothing, others caused my belly to kick, move, hurt, contract, you name it. After a while I even started having visions of sorts, which is how I first saw you two.” Ben spoke up, rubbing his now aching shin. “Whatever the spell I cast was, it couldn’t be related could it? Why do you think you saw visions of us while they had you?” Nelia shook her head. “I wish I knew. That's why we have to find out what that spell even was. It could be the key to figuring out their plan. Either way. I am at the heart of it. Not you two, you should leave town, get away from here before the Queen comes back.” Alora stood up, brushing her gown smooth. “Nope. Won’t even consider it.” The elf said sternly before walking out into the other room and plopping down into her bed.  “How are we supposed to ditch you after THAT sob story?  Let’s just get some sleep for now. We obviously have a lot to do in the coming days.” Ben and Nelia stood in the doorway between rooms with a look of shock at how calm Alora was being. Looking at eachother Ben shrugged. “She’s right.” He said bluntly before walking over to his bed. “We can try to figure this out after we’ve slept on it.”

“And after you’ve caught up, right?” Nelia grinned at him.

Nelia looked at her two friends. And despite how awful she felt only a few hours ago, she could feel a certain hope taking the place of the fear that had so long consumed her heart.

“I’m gonna take a bath first, then I’ll head to bed too.” Nelia said, shutting the door and beginning to fill the bath, she looked at herself in the mirror. She could vividly remember that first time she saw her reflection in prison, her long hair shorn off, her body covered in prisoners' rags. At that time seeing her round belly was enough to send her into a state of shock. Looking at herself now, she noticed her hair had gotten a bit longer, her clothes were no longer rags, but quality garments given to her by those who cared. And looking at her bump, she felt a certain warmth rather than fear. She looked up at her face to find herself smiling. Placing her hands on her bump, she whispered to whatever was inside, “I may not know what you are, but I promise I won’t let them use you like they’ve used me.  We’re gonna get through this together.”

After a moment she prepared herself and slipped into the warm bath, cleaning herself. When she finished and went back to the bedroom, she was unsurprised to find Alora and Ben already sound asleep. Nelia scooped up the little turtle making its slow, merry way over to her bed and then laid herself down.  She smiled still, feeling safe. “I think I might finally be free of that prison after all… Time for a nice… sleep…” The Demon whispered as sleep overtook her. And for the first time in ages, she slept nightmare free.

[muffindaddystyles]

LOST IN ITALY.

Where Harry's cute assistant gets lost in city of Italy and the thought of loosing her drives him bullocks.

Flatulent gust of breezy wind kept wiggling through Harry’s coffee lovelocks, sunshine bounces against his soft skin and his pink heart-shaped mouth stays puckered as he takes in the beauty of his surroundings with his cheek smashed over his wrist – which’s resting atop the rooftop of yacht and his head perks up puppy like when tufty giggles maroons in his ears.

He gazes his cute assistant from under his ray bans and skims back a timid smile when her face beams with glee, her cotton puffy sleeved sundress blows away from the breeze giving glimpses of her plump thighs and Harry sucks in a breath snapping his eyes away.

“Harry look s’beautiful!” She squeals taking another picture of landscape with her grandpa's vintage Yoshika camera and Harry just rumbles his lips, shrugs and slumps back, a lazy mumble of “mehhh” elicits past his lips.

She’s just so endearing, and cute and fucking adorable it’s hard for Harry to keep from not babying her.

When he first went to sets of My Policemen he considered her rather unprofessional, as everyone kept on finding her but it seemed like she vanished into thin air, turned out when Harry took a break in his cubby she was lighting up saffron and black scented candles, “Oh! Thought you’d like comin' back to nice smelling room —-- holy fudge .... by the way, me Y/N your new assistant for the meantime.” His all grumpiness defused into bunch of reverence for her.

She'd always beat him to bringing in brekkie and smoothies for him and her fellows, sometimes giving him the velvet muffins before he goes back home --- Harry became such a drooly lovey puppy for her that he decided to keep it stern from then.

He’s trying. He’s prolly gonna fail.

Y/N isn’t very immune to water trips and she was well aware that a sickness is coming – but so soon? She didn’t know that!

So, when she chokes onto nothing and then gags driving Harry into fritz. Harry tries to keep his balls in place and not panic because that’d just spill his secret and expose him.

He quickly facades himself under stoniness, “Christ! Y/N if you die on me —-,” Though, grabs her elbow lightly and walks her to the edge of the deck.

Y/n smacks his hand away. Glares him and grunts pushing her hair away aggressively, “Don’t tell me what to do I’ll die wherever the hell I want!” His pupils resembling to that of clashing waves of sea blows away comically as she huffs and pushes past him.

“Better die and ghost you for life.” She gags into her elbow again and he rushes to grab her hand, when she pulls away with a tut he rolls his eyes brings his glasses to the bridge of his nose and looks at her from under the brown sunnies, “Jeez just holdin' a hand, not gonna slip a ring, ‘s that what yer afraid of.”

“Just admit you’re desperate to hold my hand.” She smirks up at him and he cackles, then dims into nervous chuckles because oh fuck he’s getting caught red handed.

“No.” He mutters.

How much she resists not to pout and turn all fussy over his denial she ends up doing so and it’s his turn to smirk cheekily at her.

“Are you mad? You look mad.” He wiggles his finger at her and she grumbles folding her arms infront of her bosom and cranes her head to side, “I’m not mad.”

“Yer pretty face’s all screwed up, like you’re mad.” He nibbles at her and she glowers him --- sighing at last, the wisp of her hair falling in her eyes, her lips plush and glossy from sick.

“I’m perturbed, not mad.”

Then there’s an overrated pause of silence and heartbeats before Harry pokes her knee.

“You still look mad.” His face splits into a wide cheeky grin – showing his bunny teeth and she stands up hastily wobbling a little.

“’M’not mad! But I’ll be soon Harry Styles!!!!” She goes for smacking him at chest but he jerks back and sneaks his way out squealing annoyingly, “Mommy come save me from this feisty sea-creature.”

“You mean a mermaid?” She giggles.

“No. Frogfish.” He deadpans.

“I’m not talking to you ever again!” She cries out and turns away from him but he barks out a laugh --- riling her up is the most entertaining thing and seeing her make cute fussy faces another.

“’Kay, sorry! Wouldn’t do it again.” He toddles behind her and glides his forearm against her clavicles bringing her to his front, “Says this everytime!” She squirms pushing him away but he’s ten times stronger than her and even if she’s ... she’d want to spend some more time like this.

“Wouldn’t call ye' frogfish —-.. from now on.” She nods. Humming in agreement and he turns her, holding her from shoulders and looks down at her with glinting eyes and wide toothy mouth.

“How ‘bout blobfish? They look more funny.”

“I’m gonna kill you, Harry Styles!”

..

They were given a loft infront of the shore 10 minutes drive away from the shooting place and after fighting over who'll occupy the bed, bickering and pillow fighting over it and almost making it creaky loose bench Y/N went back to living room telling him that he snores so much, “Sorry but ‘m too sensitive to piggy snorey noises – better sleep outside.” He was fuming and gritty mess, flailing his limbs like a baby because he was “the hair on his directors head” away from sharing the bed with her.

“Whateva! your loss. Don’t come t'me beggin’ to pop your backbones.” He told her in high pitched mimickness and flumped under cool sheets.

His one hour nap turned into two then three. In the meantime, Y/N made a sandwich from the fresh veggies piled in the fridge, sipped onto her matcha drink sitting beside the window and enjoyed he view, even went through her socials.

Realized that she’s missing him around her terribly even if it’s just jokes and giggles and shit, whatever, so she took her camera and went outside to take pictures of shore and the purple sky battling with hue of clouds.

She got so charmed with Italy's beauty that she kept on walking and taking pictures, only to realize when the bustle of crowd dropped into tranquil quietness and she found herself into some unknown street.

She’s fucked.

She’s lost.

She has got nothing,

Not even her phone.

She contemplates to knock on the house doors and ask for locations but she’s petrified of the idea and tries to find some shop, so she could call someone and ask them to pick her up.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumbest decision, she has ever taken in her life.

When she sees no passer by, none tourists no-one in sight and the daylight defusing and darkness laughing and taunting her tears springs in her eyes --- bubbling at the corners and weeping down furiously.

Her heartbeats drops dead when she sees a group of men approaching towards her. She runs away hiding into the dark tunnel and clamps her mouth shut from crying out loud when they walk away -- they weren’t about to do anything to her – it was just her feared instincts.

“Harry ......” She whisper-cries into her wrist, her legs weak and trembly making her tumble down into dusty stoned pavement, her back getting scratched from the bricked wall of tunnel.

..

Harry woke up to pin-drop silence. Void of the sun that was once glimmering through the window, “Y/N.” He grogs out, knuckling the sleepiness away and trudged out finding the room empty.

It startles him. Waking him up properly now. A sweat flushes down his spine when he couldn’t even find her in the washroom and at the door-steps.

He dials her number and finds it at the coffee table, gruff cruses breathes out from his mouth at that.

FuckFuckFuckFuck.

His heart feels like someone’s squeezing it mercilessly in their grip when he goes outside, but couldn’t spot her and he finds it difficult to breathe, chest heaving as he snaps his head in every direction to look for the face he’s oh so in love with.

Where are you, Y/N?

Maybe, she’s angry with me? Did I hurt her in any way? Oh, fuck. I’m such a bitch.

Now, she’s angry with me and hiding in some corner cursing me out.

I have to bring her back.

So, he calls anyone in connection with Y/N in hopes that she’s with anyone of them and when there were, “no mate --- maybe check in the washroom...” and “last time she texted, said she’s going out to take pictures.”

Harry’s face pales at that. Sick to his stomach. His fists tighten by his sides to keep his calm the world around him spins for a moment and he stables himself with the nearby railing.

Bad thoughts spirals in his mind, how much he avoids them it frightens him like his worst enemy.

What if she’s hurt? It hurts him in heart even to think that.

Got into an accident and they took her?

Fuck.

What if some mafia has kidnapped her.

Obviously, Italy is famous for mafias ..... No!No!No! Harry shut up, shut up, shut uppppp!!

He screams internally to pause everything and think rationally.

He searches for her everywhere. In every street. His feet hurting until now and he chokes onto a sob, not even wanting to think of getting police involved and still not able to have her back.

He shouts for her name. Halting past anyone looking like her, that mini dress she flaunted infront of him with a gorgeous smile –-- asked him how it looked on her and he wasn’t very interested to give a response.

If he could take all of it back and praised her like his life depended on it, only if he’d told her how much he loves her, her making sure he’s comfortable in his cubby, her bringing cold milk drinks for him, dividing her oreos with him.

His hands shakes by his side, his lip twitching constantly and his legs trembles pathetically with each step he takes.

He stops. Narrows his eyes to squint through the darkness and he feels like someone blew oxygen back in his lungs, his knees weakening at the sight of some girl sitting on the bench, her shoulders slump and her head downwards as she clutches the edge of bench, rocking on it with quite sniffles.

He prays that it’s her.

Upon, hearing the footsteps Y/N looks up and those sweet eyes are enough for him to recognize her in between many people.

“Harry?” Her voice feeble and scared.

“Oh baby .....” He mumbles. Rushing towards her, stumbling back a bit when she flies in his arms and latches to him like the missing piece of her body.

His palms curves into her ribs, her face smashed into the crook of her neck – her tears wetting his skin instantly and his cheek squished atop her sweaty hair, he hugs her for dear life making her legs dangle in the air, she sobs nuzzling deeper into his throat and he caresses her shoulders to soothe her cries down. Kisses the side of her temple with tender affection and sighs in relief.

“Shhh. Shh baby, ‘s okay. I’ve found y’now ..... ‘m here sweetheart ‘s alright.” He doesn’t stop splodging soft pecks to her forehead – scared that if he’ll she’ll get lost from his arms again.

Her hiccups painful not letting her take a breather and Harry puts her down on her feet gently, taking her face in his clammy hands and hooks his thumb into her hair gazing into her glassy eyes intensely, “Hey look at me lovie’ just .. focus on me alright?” She nods at his plea grabbing his wrists and follows his breathing pattern.

He glances back at the bench and goes to grab her camera but she cries out fisting the hem of his corduroy shirt in her tiny hands, “No!” could barely choke out from her dry throat and he turns his attention back down onto her, strokes the rosy apple of her cheeks and pets her head.

“Not leavin’ yer side baby .. was bout to get your camera fo’ you. Could come with me if you don’t like stayin' away.” He assures her softly and trots towards the bench with his arms still around her as she keeps on hiding her face into his bicep.

They walk down the street like that, she has calmed down letting a sniffle slip here and there --- this kind of scenario has never happened to her before – she has never been outside of her home city before too.

He feels her tummy screech for food so asks her, chin butted atop her head, “You’re hungry, petal. Let’s get pizza.” She doesn’t feel like eating though. When she shakes her head – squeezing him more. He takes her from shoulders looking down at her with gentleness and brushes a strand of hair behind.

“Just a tad, darlin'. I know a delicious take away round the corner ... could eat it sittin' by shore.” He offers her with a smile and punches the air happily, whistling when she agrees.

When she giggles softly, defrosting back from numbness Harry spins them a little overly gleeful.

“Got me sweet girl back.” He exclaims ducking down to kiss her cheek and now when she’s less wobblish, her lungs fills with bunches of butterflies.

Blush splatters on her features. As Harry aligns his tanned arm with her delicate one and locks their fingers together lulling it backs and forth between them lovingly.

He keeps her tucked under his chin and snuggled in his arms all the time, even while waiting in the line for the take away.

“Ow!” Squeaks, “Ow. Ow.” Jumps on his tippy toes upon balancing the hot pizza on his palm.

Grins like a mad man when succeeds in making her laugh, takes her hand and helps her climb down slippery stones.

Goosebumps arises on her skin from shyness when he coils his strong arm around her to pick her up, with pizza in his other hand and giggles breathily in her ear upon hearing her squeals.

She sits in between his knees. Leans against his chest and inhales his woodsy vanilla scent, nibbles onto the crust while hearing his heartbeat.

“You scared the living hell out of me, lovie’ ... thought —-... thought I’d never be able to have you back again ... proper vanished.” He croaks out. Runs his nose up and down the sweet curve of her neck.

“Made me realise ... that I don’t want to be away from you, ever.” Y/n's breath hitches at that and she turns in his embrace. Looks at him with surprised doe eyes and coos when his eyes gloss over with wetness, that he’s forcing to keep at waterline.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“You do?” She gasps.

He bobs his head giddily, “Can you picture it? You and I together?” He murmurs mellow street light dancing between them.

“’Us'? I like the sound of that....” She smiles searching for his hand and he grasps it eagerly like he was yearning for it.

“Kay then, when could I take you on a date?” He grins. Dimples mauving deep and pretty.

“This isn’t a date?”

“We’re in Italy. The sky's so romantic and I’ve got you, seems like a date to me....” She peppers kisses to each rosy gap of his knuckles and his inside bursts like they never did before.

“Kay then. It’s memorable too, you got lost on our first day –--”

“Harryyyy....” She whines nudging him in belly with her elbow. “’Kay we could change that.” He laughs. Showering her in kisses and her laughs whirls loudly into quite air, trying to squirm away from his tickles.

[lemons3ason]

Family (Modern AU)

(Gyomei Himejima x Reader)

Warnings ⚠️: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, Smut, breeding kink, dirty talk, stomach bulge, overstimulation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always felt strange when you went to pick up Gyomei from work, the children were just so sweet and caring to him. He would be such a wonderful father, he was already a wonderful husband but you just never knew how to bring up the topic to him. Sure you had shared intimate nights together but he’d never actually cum so you thought you weren’t pleasing him, or he just didn’t love you enough to get you pregnant. You arrived today just a little early getting to say goodbye to the last few children that were leaving, they all hugged you and cheered for your presence knowing full well that you were Gyomei’s wife. The light tapping of his white cane against the ground quickly caught your attention, you smiled seeing your husband’s soft smile as he walked towards you.

“Gyomei, I’m here.”, you called gently putting your foot in the way of his cane so he could tell where you were.

His hand reached up to your face waiting to feel your cheek against his palm, “Hello my love.”, he hummed brushing your lips with his thumb before leaning down to steal a kiss from you.

You giggled against his lips and smiled, your took his free hand in yours and lead him to the car before driving home. He spoke about his day to you, telling you about a fight some of the children had over a toy and how it broke so everyone started to cry. You giggled at how stressed he seemed about the situation, he was practically in tears just thinking about it. You giggled as you both finally arrived home to relax and enjoy the rest of your day together. In just half an hour you were sprawled against Gyomei’s chest softly dozing off to sleep but a single thought kept you awake. You wanted to bring up the idea of children to him but would he actually want to try for a child with someone that’s never pleased him?

“(Y/n) is there something on your mind?”, he asked quietly.

You didn’t know how to form your thought into a sentence but you really wanted to tell him, “G-Gyomei...I-I want a baby. I know I’ve never actually pleased you enough to make you cum but I really really really want a baby with you. Please.”, your shy stuttering and plead came out more like a whine then an actual serious conversation like you wanted but unbeknownst to you it did the trick.

Gyomei’s inner beast had been unleashed due to his sweet wife’s demand and he was more then willing to fulfill her desire.

“You want a baby? Are you sure?”, he hummed his voice suddenly grew deep and seductive.

You became shy due to your demand and pressed yourself against his chest to hide, “Y-Yeah I do...I really do but I don’t want a baby if you don’t. I don’t want to force you or anything I know I’ve never pleased you enough before to actually-“

“Beloved every time I’ve be blessed with the chance to be joined with you I’ve been desperately holding back, your cute little hole is always milking me. I’ve wanted to fill your sweet crevice with my seed since we married but I never wanted to do it if you weren’t ready for me. Now that you want a child I can pour every last drop of my fertile seed into your needy womb and impregnate you, and this time I can ravage you the way I’ve wanted to since our wedding night.”, Gyomei’s words were like a drug to your ears, when did he learn to speak like that?

Before you knew it your large husband had you pinned underneath him, “I’ll ask again, are you sure you want me to make you a mother?”, his erection pressed against your clothed core making you moan to the feeling.

“I-I want you. I want this. I want a baby please.”, you begged softly holding his face in your hands to kiss his lips. Gyomei stripped you feverishly, practically ripping off both of your clothes until you were naked. His sudden roughness made your body scream for him and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. He kissed you, his lips sending a jolt of electricity down your spine as his tongue took over your mouth. His thick fingers firmly grasped the soft flesh of your breasts massaging your chest, his hips bucked into your letting his hardened cock rub against your folds. Being man handled by him was such a new form of excitement for you, you never would have guessed that Gyomei was this needy for you.

“In just a few months these cute breasts of yours will be filled with milk, you’ll let me have a taste when they’re swollen with milk right?”, Gyomei whined moving his lips down to one of your pebbled nipple.

You smiled feeling his chapped lips rub against your breasts, his words and actions ignited a fire inside of you and his only physical proof was your lewd slick that started to puddle against the sheets each time his cock head pressed against your folds. You left a wet stain against his boxers that drove Gyomei insane, he quickly removed his stupid article of clothing and tossed it aside thrusting his cock vigorously against your folds despite it never making it into your snug cunt. At this point you were begging for him, for his cock, you wanted all of it.

“Gyomei, pl-please no prep, I don’t need it just please put it in!”, you cried reaching down for his shaft to push it in.

His lips finally left your breasts as he gently slapped away your hand making you cry in annoyance, “Are you sure you can take it? Most of the time you can only take it half way and then you start to whine that it’s too much. Will you suck it up and take me all in? If you want a baby so badly then you’ll have to take it all. Will you do that for me honey?”, Gyomei growled against making your cunt flutter in excitement.

“Yes. Yes I’ll take it all, I want all of you. I want this.”, you whined wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your desperate kiss was so exciting for him, he wrapped his fingers around the head of his cock gently dragging it against your folds until he felt the tip sink into your spongy cunt and slowly pushed into your core until you couldn’t help but whine. The stretch burned but you wanted him so bad you but your tongue to stay quiet until your body trembled from full feeling in your stomach. The veins of his cock were dragging against your gspot making your legs shake wildly, he chuckled when he finally had the full thing in watching your back arch in pleasure as a dry orgasm washed over your body. You were shaking just from taking in his full length but he honestly didn’t mind, his hand pressed softly against your stomach finding the bulge his fat cock left against your small stomach.

“You feel that (Y/n)? That’s my cock all the way inside of you. Somewhere in here I’ll be fucking my cum into your pretty little womb and filling it up until you pass out and no matter what I won’t stop until I know you’re pregnant. I’m gonna move now and even after you pass out I won’t stop.”, Gyomei smirked gently rubbing your clit with his free hand. He started rutting his cock into you, you whined with each thrust feeling the head reach your special spot repeatedly. The high pitched squeals and moans pouring out of your lips were music to Gyomei’s ears, even if he couldn’t see you he knew he was pleasing you from your cries. His heavy balls slapped against your ass, a reminder that you’d be emptying them out soon until they ran dry. Just a few thrusts inside of your tight cunt were enough to pull his first orgasm out of him. This man needed to relieve a bunch of stress and sex was the best way to do it. You just heard his grunts of pleasure as he bottomed out in you and you cried out feeling the warm ropes of cum filling you. You could feel his body tense with each contraction as he filled you with his first load, it felt like forever but in reality it had only last a minute. Gyomei was just getting started, even if you begged him to stop he wouldn’t because this is something he had been waiting for. As he moved his hips he dragged out his seed only to push it back in deeper then it was before, your moans were just so addicting to listen to. The pounding you’d take hurt at first but with his added cum as lube you couldn’t help but curl your toes in pleasure. This man was really going to make your dream come true and you couldn’t wait.

“Harder Gyomei, I can take it. Promise.”, you whined wrapping your legs around his waist.

He did just that, he forced your knees up to the sides of your head and pounded away into your sloppy cunt like nothing. A high pitched cry slipped past your lips with each pierce his cock made into your tiny body, seeing the bulge in your stomach made you far more excited then it should have.

“Yes that’s it (Y/n), take it. Take all of me. We’re not gonna stop until you’re swollen!”, Gyomei hissed against your ear thrusting away into your slicked cunt. The lewd song of skin on skin, moans, and declarations of love filled the small room, the bed creaked under your intense play but neither of you cared.

“I love you Gyomei.”, you sobbed feeling his cock pierce your cervix.

He moaned against your lips quickly stealing another kiss. One arm propped itself over your head to support his weight, his free hand quickly sank down to your clit rubbing your slick into the swollen bundle of nerves. Your toes curled, your whines became higher and your little pussy was squeezing tighter around his cock if that was even possible. Your body shook violently under him as another orgasm washed over your body, but still even as your contracting walls pushed him out Gyomei buried himself deeper then before. You’d get pregnant for sure. You’d be his sweet little swollen wife and he’d cherish you more everyday.

“Eight.”

“Mmm~ W-what?”, you sighed still shaking from your release.

“Eight times is how much I’m going to fill you, my second load is coming so you better take it. Our baby is going to be made tonight and I’ll make sure of it.”

[ramp-it-up]

Anything and Everything

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF  Read at your own risk.

SMUT, Angst, long distance relationship issues, doting husband, massages, employer/employee relationship, the notion of cheating, talk of happy endings, cursing, graphic sex, a sweet surprise, and Princess behavior. 😉———————

As soon as you ended the sexy Facetime call with your husband, you burst into tears. It was common lately, with him being gone for over a month and under the circumstances, but he never knew.

Until he decided to call you right back because he missed you so much.

You tried to keep it together when you answered the call, but he knew you better than that.

“Hey, Princess. Are you crying?”

He sounded so earnest that you couldn’t hide it any more. You were snuffling and unable to control the sobs shaking your body. 

It tore him apart not being able to be there to comfort and hold you. Although he had some idea, he asked anyway.

“What’s wrong babe?”

You let out all of your words.

“I, I, I  just miss you so much. It’s so hard with you gone and not being here to talk to and hold me and run out to get me food and, and I don’t want electronic sex or a vibrator or my fingers or a dildo. I want your mouth and your hands and your dick.”

You took a second to breathe. “And I know I have that silicone replica of you but it's cold and not warm and alive and I just want you and your warm arms and your huge chest and your beating heart and a forehead kiss...”

You cried harder thinking of how much of a cry-baby you sounded.  You didn’t normally do this, but the separation was getting to be too much.

You sobbed while he tried to calm you down. He would give you the world to make you happy. Once you were able to listen, he spoke in soothing tones. 

“Listen Princess, I’m going to arrange something to make you feel better. I know you’ve been missing me…”

You were smiling by the time you got off the phone, your man always able to make you feel better.

Two days later, a huge box with the massage table arrived at the house. Workers came to set up one of the spare rooms for a spa/wellness room, and you were not allowed to see it until the appointed day.  

You did clock them bringing in the massage table, a counter/workspace/storage, a ton of essential oils and supplies, and an upscale extra wide sofa with lots of pillows. 

You were excited and distracted from your lonliness, and you couldn’t wait to see it.  

You talked about your in-home massage appointment excitedly every time you spoke with your husband.  He beamed to know that he was able to bring the spark of happiness back to your voice.

“This is going to be good for you, try this massage therapist out, we might keep them on staff indefinitely.”

You lit up again.  “You mean, I can have my own live-in massage therapist?” You smirked.  “What did I do to deserve this?”

Your husband grinned back at you through the camera and proceeded to tell you everything that made you Queen in his eyes.

-------

Almost a week later, you entered the dimly lit room, ensconced in your fluffy terry cloth robe. There was soft music playing.

The soft green tones of the paint and the bamboo floor looked amazing.  You took off your slippers and realized that the floor was heated.  You grinned wide. 

The massage table was set up and waiting as you took in the room and noticed all the details. There was a soft knock at the door and you spoke.

“Come in.”  You didn’t know why, but you were full of anticipation. 

The massage therapist came in and your eyes locked for a second. There was a sudden electricity in the room, but then he averted his eyes and stood beside the table, eyes forward, back straight, almost at attention.

You gave him the once over, he was tall, broad shouldered, very well built, and extremely handsome. 

His dark hair and beard were well manicured and his large hands clasped behind him. That allowed you to see his lean form, his flat stomach and the large hump in his pants. 

You raised your eyebrow. This man was packing. You smirked. You couldn’t see his eyes, as they were downcast, so you went and stood in front of him.  

You realized that his blue scrubs matched his eyes and you smiled as he gazed down at you.

His perfect pink lips parted and you gazed at them a moment too long. There was a hint of a smile, and then it vanished. You stepped back.

You took him in from his broad, muscular shoulders, to his wide chest and his slim waist and hips.

He shifted and brought his hands to rest in front of him, and you walked around him and got a glimpse of his ass. There were no flaws.

“What is your name?”

“Robert, ma’am.”  

His curt reply came with just a glance at you, and you proceeded toward the counter, setting down your iced lemon water.

Your husband knew what you liked. And he delivered. Today would be just what you needed to relax.  

You started to untie your robe, still facing the counter, and when you started shrugging out of your robe, Robert cleared his throat.  You stopped and looked at him over your exposed shoulder.

His eyes were on you, but he raised his hand toward the table. 

“I will step out for a moment to allow you to disrobe and get situated. Start off face down. Please cover yourself with the sheet and I’ll be back in.’

You nodded your head at him.  And smiled. He was quite handsome.

He closed the door and you fully stepped out of your robe, hanging it on the hook on the back of the door, then you situated yourself on the table, placing the sheet over you, covering your back and leaving your arms out. You put your face into the headrest and relaxed.  

Robert came back in, and you heard him going to the counter, opening doors and moving things around.

“Is the table a suitable temperature, ma’am?”

The heated table had been a nice surprise when you lay down. Another plus for hubby.

“Yes, it’s heavenly, thank you Robert.” You smiled and snuggled into the cushioned table.

He moved back to the counter, and then came and placed his hands under the headrest so that you could inhale the scent of a spicy oil on his hands.

“Peppermint oil, ma’am. Your husband wants you to be sure that you can breathe well.” 

You smirked into the cushion.

“Does he now?”

“Yes ma’am. Those were his instructions.”

You detected no humor, no sarcasm in his voice, just a matter-of-fact tone.  You inhaled deeply, staring at his thick fingers through the headrest, wiggling at the thrill you got between your legs. 

You knew very well why your husband wanted your nasal passages to be clear. You couldn’t wait for him to control your breathing with his hand or his cock again.

He moved away again and then came back, placing his hands on your shoulders and pressed a little, as if getting you used to his touch.

His hands were warm, and strong, but gentle. His fingers trailed softly, but firmly up your neck, stopping just below your hairline to your hair, which was piled on top of your hair in a very messy bun.

“Can I touch your hair, ma’am? Scalp massage.”

You nodded, smiling at him asking permission. “Yes, that’s fine.”

He threaded his fingers into your dense curls and into your scalp and started massaging, drawing a long shuddering breath from you. Your bun was coming loose, but you didn’t care.  It was so fucking relaxing.

The peppermint oil on his fingers made your scalp tingle and your back arch just a tiny bit.  If Robert noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Your hair is beautiful, ma’am.”  His voice made you shudder and your nipples peaked.  

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely audible.  

Robert removed your hair tie, and smoothed your hair forward above you.

You thought of how often your husband insisted on your hair being loose during love making, and you obliged.

He loved to grab it, especially when he hit it from the back. You loved when he did that. And you loved him. You’d missed his touch.

“Do you mind if I sit, ma’am?”

“Oh no, I’m sure standing on your feet all day must be exhausting.”

Robert didn’t reply, he just grabbed the rolling stool nearby and sat at your head, rolling his legs under the headrest.  You could see the muscular thighs in his scrubs when you opened your eyes halfway.

Upon opening them further, you could clearly make out Robert’s dick print.  He was well endowed, and the tip of his member was deliciously thick. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

Now this was a development. You licked your lips and a drop of your saliva landed on his pants, right next to his dick print.  He stopped massaging your scalp for a second.

“Ummmm, sorry.  Lying face down is kind of awkward.”  You giggled as he cleared his throat.

You sighed as Robert finished up the scalp massage and went to get some more oil.

“Sweet almond oil, ma’am. Your favorite?”

You couldn’t stop smiling.  Your husband had thought of everything.

“Yes.”

He began to work on your shoulders while still standing at your head, and he bent over you as his hands traveled down your back. HIs fingers grazed the sides of your breasts, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

He moved nearer you, as he stretched his arms to reach the top of your sheet covered ass, long fingers almost cupping it, making you squirm a little. 

“Sorry ma’am.  Are you uncomfortable?’

He straightened up and there was something in his tone that you heard, but that you didn’t care to decipher at the moment.

“No, no. I’m good.” 

And you hummed softly in your throat, wiggling your ass a little. That was always the signal for your husband to slap it. And if he were here, he would have. You’d missed that for the past 5 weeks he’d been away working.

Robert ran his hands slowly down your back again and this time grabbed lightly with his fingers as they retreated, gently pulling your ass cheeks apart.

The sound of your slick was evident, and a little embarrassing.  This man had made you wet.

He did it again, and if you didn’t know any better, it was to hear that sound again. You were trying to compose yourself when something hard nudged you in the head.

It couldn’t be. You lifted your head a little bit and came face to face with Robert’s blue scrub covered hard on. You smirked at it and licked your lips.

“It’s okay ma’am. Just relax.”

“Are you uncomfortable, Robert?”  

You echoed his question from earlier. You twisted your neck and looked up at him. Damn, he looked good gazing down at you.

“I’m good, ma’am. Let’s continue. Your husband is insistent that we finish.”

“Hmmmmmm.” You pursed your lips and put your head back in the headrest as he moved around to the side of you.

He massaged your shoulders and pressed down either side of your spine to your hips, stopping there and adjusting the sheet over your ass. He shook it out, lifting it high enough that he might have gotten a glimpse if he had been paying attention.  

But he was a professional, right?

He continued smoothing his hands down your legs, stopping at your feet and squeezing. 

“What kind of pressure, ma’am?”  He was awaiting further instruction.

“I like it hard and deep.” 

There was a noticeable pause, and Robert cleared his throat. You smiled down at the floor. 

“Deep tissue massages are everything.  Can you accommodate that Robert?”

He quickly replied. “Of course, ma’am.”  He situated the sheet so that your right foot was out. “Your husband told me to give you anything and everything you wanted.”

“Oh?”

He started massaging your foot, hitting all the pressure points with just the right way.

“Ohhhhhhhh! That feels good.”

He just hummed a response.  You relaxed even more, reveling in the human touch on your body that you had missed for so long.  He worked on both feet and calves, and you were almost putty on the table.

His hands moved up to your thighs, kneading and squeezing your muscles firmly.  He inched his way up your thighs to your ass, his fingers moving near your cunt.  He got oh so close to your lips, but never crossed the line. You were beginning to feel some kind of way.

“Do you talk, Robert?”

“If you need me too, ma’am. What do you want to talk about?”

“Do your clients ever…. ask you to do things…” 

“You mean, switch pressures? Use hot stones?….” 

If you knew him better, you would say he was intentionally misunderstanding.

You cleared your throat. ”I mean, do you ever give… happy endings?”

Another pause. “Ah.”  He continued up and down your legs with long, firm strokes.

“I’ve never had a client I would risk it all for.”  He never stopped moving his fingers up and down your legs, fingers almost giving you pleasure. “Until…”

“Until…?”

He cleared his throat again. “What did you want to talk about ma’am?”

He was intentionally evading.  You put the pieces together and you came to a conclusion.

You raised your hips a little and arched your back. Your ass was in position for him to easily go further if he wanted, and you knew he could see the outline of it under the sheet. Your man said it was the most gorgeous ass he’d ever seen.

Robert coughed to cover a moan. At least that’s what you imagined. 

“I need you to go further, Robert. Take off the sheet please.”

“Ma’am?”  He didn’t sound confused.  He was asking for confirmation.

“I need a deep tissue internal massage, Robert.”

The prospect of having this gorgeous man do things to you was making you soaked. 

“I’m already lubricated, you won’t need any more oil. I’m soaked actually.”

This time he didn’t cover his moan, he just pulled the sheet off and let it slide to the floor.

“Y-you’re beautiful Ma’am.  But what would your husband say?”

You turned your head around to witness Robert staring at your exposed cunt, his hands inches away from feeling all your glory.  He was licking his lips.  Then, his blue eyes met your brown ones. You arched your back some more and his eyes were drawn back to your most private places.

“Didn’t he tell you to give me anything and everything I wanted?”  

He moved his fingers a millimeter, and then looked back into your eyes. 

“Do your job, Robert.” 

You tried to keep the bitchiness out of your voice, but it was hard.  You wondered if he was still hard.

Robert looked back at it and moved his hands up, one thumb gently grazing the slick on the lips down there, pushing the viscous liquid around your fat pussy.  

He teased you, looking between what his thumb was doing and your face, as your eyes were halfway closed and your mouth was open, panting for your life.  He pushed in a little deeper inside you, not entering you fully, but just enough so your lips swallowed his thumb.  

He rubbed around the entrance to your cunt while holding your hips back with his other hand on your ass cheek.  You were trying to throw it back on his hand. It had been so fucking long since someone else had touched you.

He pulled his thumb out suddenly and tasted it, putting it in his mouth and sucking like a baby.  HIs eyes closed for a second, shook his head and then his eyes blazed at you.

“You taste so good ma’am.” 

He moved his hands back up to your apex and you expected him to put his fingers inside you again, but you yelped when he pulled you back and your ass met his face.

“Robert! Oh my! Oh shit. Yes!”

Robert was going to town. He licked his thick, wide tongue up your folds from your clit to your ass and back down again, swirling at each end.

“Fuck!” 

Robert had you impaled on his face while his strong hands gripped your thighs. He hummed, causing an electric shock to jolt up your spine.  You cried out again.

Then he started slurping your juices, and sucking your clit, stretching it out from between your lips with his own.  He slurped it between his lips and the sound was obscene enough to make you get there quickly.

He started humming again when you started to quiver, and he worked his head back and forth, taking your clit with him. He worked it up and down, back and forth until the coil of pressure in your belly contracted and snapped, delivering your juices to this man’s face.

Your orgasm was hard and relatively fast.  He smiled, watching you spasm when he pulled back. 

“Look at that delicious cream.  Your husband is a lucky man, Ma’am.”

He held you open so he could watch your arousal and cum drip down your folds. You watched it drip down his beard. You twitched at the sight. 

He shook his head again, grabbing a towel from the counter, wiping his face and washing his hands in the sink. You thought you saw a smile.

You were unable to speak for a minute.  He came around to your side and gazed down at you, smile gone, placing his hand on your shoulder and looking deep into your eyes.

“Are you ok, ma’am?”  You nodded yes, and then he made a turning motion with his hand.  “Turn onto your back.”

You obeyed, not thinking too hard about what was happening. You were beneath him, exposed. Watching him. You noticed that he was indeed still hard, and even bigger than you’d peeped earlier. You reached for him and he moved away.

“I’m here to serve you, ma’am.”

You put your hand back down to your side and moved your head to watch him go get the bottle of almond oil and come back to your side.

He raised the bottle above your breastbone and began to pour a thin drizzle down your body, ending with him dripping it slowly and methodically on your clit.  You were still sensitive, and the stimulation made you throb anew.

He finally stopped and used both hands to smooth the oil into your skin, his left hand stroking it into your chest and spreading it to your breasts, grabbing your fullness and pulling your nipples through his fingers firmly, but gently, making you wet all over again.  Your breasts were very sensitive.

“You are so, so beautiful ma’am. “ 

He leaned down and used his tongue on your nipples, swirling and lightly biting. When he started suckling, your pussy clenched, and as if sensing that, he then used his middle finger flat on your stomach and smoothed the oil downward toward your pussy, parting your still throbbing lips again.

He played with you lengthwise, the sloshing sound of your wetness simultaneously embarrassing and erotic. You were at the brink immediately, especially when he pushed his finger inside you and curled it.

“Ohhhh.  Feels so fucking good Robert.”

At that, he inserted another finger, and then another, until your cunt was stuffed full of his thick fingers and you were stretching out nicely around them. You were not disguising your moans or your desire for him. 

You didn’t know exactly what you wanted, but you wanted what he was giving. He worked you toward your next orgasm swiftly, squeezing and flicking your slippery tits, looking up and down your body appreciatively.

You turned your head toward his crotch, which was situated near your head. You looked up at him. He met your gaze. He knew what you wanted. You now held him captive to your wants.

“Anything and everything Robert. Stuff your cock in my mouth while I cum.”

His reserve snapped at your comment and he couldn’t help but groan. He kept fingering your cunt while he quickly undid his scrub pants with his other hand and pulled them down so his cock could spring free. You managed to catch it before it slapped his stomach and you tugged him toward you, your mouth wide open.

You quickly licked your lips as he pushed it toward you, and you gladly accepted the wide organ, his girth almost causing you to split your lip around him.  His movements at your clit turned into circles as he pushed deeper into your throat.

“Now, just relax ma’am. I know it’s a lot.” 

He smirked down at you as you relaxed your throat and tried to breathe around him.  That peppermint oil really helped open your nasal passages, but you still spluttered as he filled your throat, and saliva and tears wet your face. You knew your throat would be sore later.

He pulled out and you choked and gasped for air for a bit before he tapped his dick on your mouth and you opened up again.

Your face was a mess but still beautiful. He didn’t push as deep this time, allowing you the space to swirl your tongue around his fat tip and down the vein underside of his cock.

The circles he was drawing on your clit were more insistent now, and you came yet again, moaning around his cock, sending vibrations up his back this time. He threw his head back and moaned, all the while managing to keep you from running from this orgasm with his hand.  

“Fuck!  Ma’am. You’re very good at that. Too good.”

He pulsed a little into your mouth before he pulled out, making your mouth pop off of his thick head loudly. You whined because you wanted him to come down your throat.

“You wanted everything, ma’am?”  

You caught his meaning as he moved around toward the foot of the table. He took his pants all the way off and stripped off his shirt. Your eyes took in his tattooed torso as he stroked his cock, knowing full well that you were watching him. Damn, he was so beautiful.

Then, he stood at the end of the table, rubbing up your legs to the apex of your thighs, which he pulled down so that your ass was almost hanging down off the table. He took himself in hand again and swiped his cock up and down your cunt, teasing as you whined for him.

“Each and every part of you is so beautiful ma’am.”

He stopped at your hole and pushed just the tip in and then pulled it back out, making you mad.  

“Nnnnnnhhh.”  You keened.  

“I want to wreck this beautiful pussy, ma’am. Want to feel you squeeze my dick until I paint your walls white with my seed. It will look so beautiful. We look so good together, see.”

You leaned up on your elbows so that you could observe. 

“Take it, it’s yours…”

You were open-mouthed panting, and although you didn’t think you could get any wetter, you were.

“But what would your husband say?”  He was smirking at you now.

“Anything. Everything.”

He pushed back into you, a little more this time, and you thought he would bottom out, so you threw your head back in ecstasy, but he pulled back again, causing you to snap your head up and glare at him.

“Please, it’s been so long for me.”  

Robert was panting now.  “Me too.”

Your eyes found his as he pushed inside you, this time moving slowly toward his goal.  

“You promise?” 

He felt so good stretching you out.  No fingers, no dildo, nothing could compare to him.

His hips stuttered as he stuffed you full.

“I’ve only had my hand for over a month. Nothing, no one comes close to this.”  He opened his mouth and outright panted, jaw slacked and eyes glazed.

He looked down at where you were joined together. 

“It really is magnificent.” He gasped at the sensations of you. Liquid satin. “Fuck, you aways feel so fucking good wrapped around me.”

He pushed both thighs up to your face and he started fucking you hard. You pussy was pulling him in deeper.

“I was planning on flipping you over, fuck… and… and hitting it from behind...shit!”

You started palming your own breasts and pulling your nipples while moaning wantonly. It was the best erotic movie he’d ever seen.

“Gat damnit…”

He puffed, watching what you were doing. His hips were getting off-rhythm and he shook his head to clear it. 

“But I just had to bend you in half and fuck the shit out of you.” He groaned, completely lost in the sauce. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He reached up, licked his thumb and moved it to your clit, hitting impossibly deeper with each thrust.

“Cum for me one more time Princess.”

It had been so long since you heard that command in person.  You let go with abandon.

“Fuck! Yes Mr.Evans!”  You came again, gushing all over him. 

“Yes, baby, yessssss.”

Chris looked down and licked his lips.  “I’ve been wanting to feel this for forever.” He pulsed and came and mingled his liquid with yours.

He released your thighs and massaged them as he stared down at you, smiling as you came back to earth.

You looked at him. “Hi.”

“Hi.”  He winked and leaned over to give you a good kiss.  

“Welcome home, Baby.” You beamed up into his eyes.

“What a welcome….”

He grunted as he pulled out of you and you watched as he grabbed a towel and turned on the hot water, soaking some in the basin while taking one and cleaning himself up.  

Then, he grabbed his scrub pants, put them back on and brought a warm towel to clean you up gingerly. There was only love in his eyes as he completed the most intimate of acts. 

When he was done, he picked you up bridal style and moved you over to the sofa, arranging the pillows to cradle you as he crawled between your legs again. He sighed deeply, finally home.

You held him as he laid his head on your breasts, playing with his hair.  

“I missed you so much.”  You were so happy that your husband was finally home. 

“Mmmmm. You know I missed you too.”  He looked up at you, blue eyes large.  “Are you ok?  I didn’t hurt you did I?” 

He looked down at your body, and placed his large hand on your abdomen, beaming down at it. 

“How are you? How’s the little one? You look gorgeous. I can tell your body is changing already.” 

It was the same thing he asked every day over the phone, but in person, it hit different. The felt a lump in your throat.

“We’re great.  I can’t feel the baby yet, so I’m glad you’re home before I do.”

You were so afraid Chris was going to miss the major milestones of your pregnancy, but so far he’d only missed some faint morning sickness and you sleeping all the time.

You were nine weeks pregnant. You and Chris found out that you were four weeks along right before he left to film in Romania.  That set you off on an over-emotional rollercoaster that he tried to staunch from 5,000 miles away.

“You’re gonna have to pry me off of you until after the baby comes, and probably every day after that.” Chris looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And you were. “Wherever you go, I go, and vice versa.”

You started to cry, because you loved this man so much. Or maybe it was because of hormones.  Chris lovingly kissed your tears away.

“I love my present, this room, the decor, the oils.  And especially my massage therapist. I might have to bring Robert on staff permanently at the Evans household. He’s fine as hell…” 

Your tears had turned to a sultry look. He chuckled at your mood swing.

“I almost broke character so many times, from the first time I looked in your eyes, to when I saw your ass under that sheet, and when I finally touched you.”  

Chris took a deep breath and kissed your collarbone, then laughed. 

“I can’t believe you drooled on my pants. That was a great test of my acting skills.”

You laughed with him.  “Well, you got skills, baby. You’re a great actor. It was a great experience. Say, did you ever do adult film?”  

Chris raised his eyebrows at you.  “The only ‘adult films’ that I’ve ever done are in a google drive that only you have the password to...”

“Don’t forget IG, when…” Chris started tickling you to get you to shut up.

After a few minutes of laughing and talking and getting reacquainted, your eyes started getting heavy. The excitement of your reunion, combined with great sex, and first trimester pregnancy, was about to do you in.

Chris picked you up and carried you down the hall to your master suite.  You loved that he was so much bigger than you. 

You snuggled his neck and started playfully biting him. His little moans and the slight swelling of his dick against your thigh as he carried you told you he wasn’t playing.

“Don’t start anything you can’t finish right now, Mrs. Evans. I can tell you’re tired.”  He lay you on the bed and you got under the covers, warm and happy. 

“What do you want right now? Food? Sleep?.....Anything else?”

He stood at the side of the bed, blue scrubs slung low on his hips, hair messed up. His blue eyes were blazing, his abs on point and the trail of soft dark hair on his stomach was pointing to happiness. 

You watched him as he subtly flexed for you. You realized that you were getting moist again. And judging from his smile, Chris realized it as well. 

You bit your lip and looked him up and down.

“I want all of that.” 

You pointed to him, circling your finger around his form.

“Everything.”

You giggled as Chris moved to give you whatever you wanted.

————————-

Tell me anything and everything about this! Let me know in the comments or reblogs!

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @einfachniemand @afriendlyblackhottie @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikia @marvelfansworld @just-shower-thoughts  @lost-in-a-state-of-mind @london-grunge @pheebsyells @thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog @douxtille @ximaginexx @jdmacca92 @fofisstilinski @dyapraxicwhore @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @chesca-791 @aaronhotchie @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain @mostannoyingbillioner @anacrcarvalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @chaoticsteverogers @txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @assoftheamericana @ikatieebabyy@nerdymugsharkempath @jbrizzywrites @wallowsgirl14 @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjeans @stilltoyou

[duskamethyst]

deception.

a/n: if you ask me why i did this, the answer is i don’t know.

word count: 4.6k

genre: smut, nsfw, angst, quirkless AU

warnings: daddy kink, degradation, edging, age gap, implied cheating, reader is a little delusional

pairing: sugardaddy!bakugou x f!reader

summary: where you fall in love with your own sugar daddy and you finally confess to him.

pretending to be in love with old men for a couple of hours can be exhausting and it might seem like a nonideal way to get money, but desperate times call for desperate measures. you’ve met plenty of these people, who have too much money they could spend. some are just lonely; in need of company from a young, pretty girl and some just want to have fun despite having their wives and kids at home. they come and go, and you couldn’t care less about what happens to them after your encounter, as long as you get your money’s worth. 

but never have you ever thought that you’d be so attached to one. maybe entertaining sugar daddies isn’t that tiring when they’re really attractive (it’s natural to like good looking people, can anyone blame you?). he’s truly a sight for sore eyes and you often wonder how he possesses so much stamina in bed. bakugou makes you feel some kind of way, it’s wrong, but with more time you spend with him, you can’t help but to actually fall in love with the guy. he makes you feel antsy and you often find yourself waiting for his texts, either the dirty ones or the ones that expresses his anticipation to see you again soon.

it’s not like he doesn’t do the same thing as the others; buys you things you know you can’t afford, spends his money on fancy dinners and continues to spend the rest of the night with you at random five stars hotels after. the difference is, you actually somewhat enjoy being around him as his spoiled little princess and you find yourself to gladly do anything for him like the time you let him fuck you raw because he wanted to. 

for a man his age, bakugou is well maintained. you love to lay your head down on his huge chest and rake your nails on his broad back, eliciting deep grunts of pleasure from the man in return. he looks appetizing; toned abs and a happy trail that leads to his trimmed pubes and down to his massive cock. if it isn’t for the fine lines on his face and the white streaks on his hair, you wouldn’t think he’d be reaching 50. 

you don’t know if you should even feel jealous of his wife. if you were born years earlier, would he choose you instead? the thought of him being with someone else and vowed to be together for the rest of their lives makes you want to puke. bakugou must’ve realized that it was a mistake too. if he still loves her, why would he have his cock sink inside you? if he really loves her, why are you the one he tells that to instead? 

“daddy loves you. daddy loves fucking your tight cunt. baby, you feel so fuckin’ good– so fuckin’ good for daddy. love you too– fuck.”

you can already picture the image of him on top of you as you replay those same words like a broken record player inside your head; lips part slightly in heavy pants, vermillion irises overfill with lechery as he fucks you senseless.

daddy loves you. he loves you and you're more than certain that you love him. not for his money, not for the stuff he indulges you with but only for himself. 

you want him. you want him to make you all his. you want him to be able to see you freely and not sneaking behind someone else’s back. you want to sit pretty as you wait for him to come back home from work every day, all wet and ready to please him. he loves you, and that’s what he deserves after a stressful day. 

as soon as you get inside the room and kick off your heels, a strong pair of hands grab you by the thighs and easily lift you up. you wrap your legs around his waist in an instant, dropping your bag to the floor unceremoniously before circling your arms around his neck as he draws you in a passionate, hungry kiss. a battle of dominance has always been nonexistent when it comes to bakugou, he naturally holds everything in the palm of his hand and both of you like it that way.

his lips never stray away from yours, not even when he walks towards the bed with you clinging onto his strong physique while his hands squeeze firmly on the flesh of your bum before he breaks away, but only to throw you on the soft mattress. you prop up on your side, looking up at him innocently and pleadingly with doe eyes that you know would never fail to stir up something primal inside him. his gaze drinks in every inch of you; the heave of your chest, the curve of your ass and overall your smaller frame that lies submissively in front of him. 

“look at you. such a fucking doll.” he takes off his slim fit suit, throwing the coat carelessly on the ground before loosening up his tie until it unfolds completely. “you like the dress? it’s shorter than i imagined, can’t help but to notice how the other guys kept on checking you out.”

you nod your head, pressing your thighs together as you notice how his lustful eyes linger a little too long on your ass that’s barely hiding under the hem of your mini dress. “yes, because daddy bought it for me.”

“damn right he did.” he smirks, unfastening about three buttons of his dress shirt. “ass up.”

you hurriedly roll on your stomach, planting your cheek on the mattress and arching your back perfectly as you lift your ass in the air. you feel the bed dipping from your back before a calloused hand caresses your thigh and trails up to your cheeks slowly, appreciating the smooth and youthful skin before he gets to ruin it.

“good. lift your head up.”

it’s never your position to question. carefully, you do as told by lifting yourself up on your hands and knees. you can discern the shifting of his body from behind and by your side as you look ahead and face the curtains before your sight is abruptly seized by darkness.

the silky material biting your lids suggests that he has wrapped his tie around your head, purposely blindfolding you to amplify your other senses as your sight is consumed with pitch black. bakugou pushes your head down with his hand, keeping you on your knees and lets you stay in the position while he takes off his dress shirt.  

“you’re gonna be a good girl for daddy.” he states more than questions, hiking up the hem of your dress to your waist to feed him with an unobstructed view of the damp patch adhering on your flimsy panties. bakugou presses his thumb on the splotch and his eyes flick over to your quivering body. “gonna let daddy use his tongue to fuck you?”

“please, daddy.” you whine, bucking your hips closer to ease the ache with his touch but is greeted with a sharp smack across your skin instead. 

“so impatient,” he tuts, rubbing the red print gently. “you’re just a horny little girl, aren’t you? can’t live without daddy’s dick inside her cunt.”

“just you– only yours.” 

“you know just what to say, don’t you?” his voice husky and rasp, complimenting the conceited smirk on his lips as he spoke. you learn that bakugou is actually a man that is easy to please, only if you know how to stroke his ego and as simple as that, his intimidating persona would be long gone. 

cold air brushes against your wet folds once he strips off your panties. he lifts up both knees to get you out from the garment and crumple it into a ball with his hand before bringing it in front of your face. 

“open.” you obey and open your mouth, allowing him to gag you with the cloth and quickly filling your senses with a mixture of lace and your own scent. “so good for me.”

bakugou moves back to his initial position, smearing his fingers against your puffy folds with your slick. he circles your clit teasingly and slowly, resulting in you to squirm while your hands find purchase on the sheets beneath you. 

“stop squirming around or i’m not gonna eat you.” he warns as his ministrations come to a halt to observe your compliance before he continues. for a man that is impatient himself, it’s quite hard to take his sweet time teasing you. maybe with the fact that you’re so querulous, a surge of power and pride rushes through him and his willpower tells him not to lose his machismo too quickly.

a satisfying grin tugs on the corner of his lips while he watches you struggle to follow his order and his thumb presses tight circles on your swollen clit to draw out sweet, muffled whines. once he notices your legs begin to tense and toes to curl, he pulls away. 

“you can’t cum yet.” he licks up the slick from his fingers clean before settling his head in front of your rear. an anticipative knot swells in your lower stomach as you feel hot plumes of breath prickling against your puffy folds before he spreads them open with his fingers. with how much your senses have spiked up, you can feel your pussy dripping with so much arousal and you know damn well that bakugou can see it too. 

“you’re nothing but a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” he coos, sounding both demeaning and amused as he rubs your lips, sending more waves of sensation on the bundle of nerves. “my dirty little slut.”

bakugou doesn’t expect you to answer but as soon as his warm tongue takes the first lap of your slick, a loud squeal rips from your throat. his large hands rest on your hips as he tilts his head to reach your clit, toying and teasing by using the tip of his tongue while his own plump lips and stubble graze against your slit.

you’re quick to turn into a sobbing mess, unheedful of the saliva trickling from the corner of your mouth when you’re aware that it won’t take too long until you’d eventually break. just as the stimulation is becoming more overbearing, his hands clench on your supple flesh tighter in a silent command that tells you it’s not time to cum yet. 

after he’s satisfied with abusing the bud, he drags down his tongue and pumps inside your quivering hole, causing you to jolt in a delighted surprise. from the loud, lewd squelching sounds of your own fluid mixing with his spit, you can only picture the way he looks right now; face buried between your ass cheeks, nose deep in your cunt while his tongue works miraculously around your walls. 

even the image beyond the abyss itself makes you more delirious. 

“c-can’t–” you break into a muffled cry as your hips bucks into his mouth without conscious control. another harsh slap is what you receive, but you can’t seem to care when a thick fog of desire is already clouding your brain; making the pain and pleasure to become one divine fusion. 

bakugou’s blows don't stop with how much you’re grinding so earnestly on his face. your skin burns from the cruel attention, yet your cunt just keeps on seeping with slick that trickles down to his chin and drips down on the sheets beneath you. 

“you’re such a fucking pain slut.” he growls, hot breath fanning your greedy cunt and making the pressure even tighter in your stomach. “not yet.” his tongue is anything but languid; swirling hastily as it explores your little hole as far as he can reach. it’s obscene. the way that the muscle glides so smoothly.. the warmth, the moisture– 

next thing you know, your eyes are already rolled to the back of your eyelids as your body tenses while waves of gratification crash down throughout your entire being.

“cumming on daddy’s tongue without permission.” he tsks, giving one last spank before standing up at the edge of the bed as he burns the image of your quivering body into the back of his head, adorned by the red imprint of his hand on your pliant skin. “turn around.” 

without a spare moment to gather yourself, you get up on wobbly legs and arms, carefully turn around like a fawn taking its first baby steps and rebuild your senses at the same time to estimate where he currently stands until he tells you to stop. 

your eyes squint as they adjust to the subdued room, finally able to see faint light again after bakugou takes off the tie around your head. you look up to the older man, only to be pierced by a pair of carmine orbs and a disgruntled look on his face.

“you know what you did wrong.” a thin string of drool latches onto the panties when he pulls it out from your mouth to observe the drenched fabric between his thumb and pointer finger. “looks like you had a great time.” you can see how it’s embarrassingly soaked, but not as embarrassing as the amount of slick glistening around his lips and chin that he doesn’t even bother to wipe off.

“’m sorry, daddy.” you whisper hoarsely through dry throat while giving him your most remorseful look. it would’ve deceived him if he didn’t know any better, but receiving punishments is something he knows you’d enjoy.

the slight upturn at the corner of his lips etches into a lazy grin as he unfastens his belt and takes off his pants along with his briefs to release his erected cock– now standing proudly in front of your face. 

“what do you have to do now?” he hums, tapping the flushed tip on your lips as if moisturizing the parched skin with his leaking precum. 

“m-make daddy proud.” you shamelessly steal a taste, flattening your tongue out so he can rub it on your palate. 

“can’t fuckin’ understand you– cock hungry slut.” he chuckles with mirth, one hand tucking your hair behind each ear as his gaze softens for a moment. “but that’s why i fuckin’ love you.”

your lashes flutter as you stare up at him, heart blooming like flowers on a fresh start of spring after a harsh, cold winter as the words he uttered loops inside your head. with a content hum, you close your eyes and wrap your lips around his cock, eliciting a hiss from the male once engulfed in the warmth of your mouth. 

“shit, i haven’t even told you to suck me yet.” his own eyes follow suit, throwing his head back as his own hand finds home on top of your head. your eagerness makes it hard for him to stay mad. if he was younger he would’ve been a little irritated if someone tried to take control, but maybe aging really did something and made your whims seem more tolerable for him. but what he loves most is seeing you struggle to fit his fat cock; whether it’s by your mouth or your pussy.

“just like that,” his voice drops an octave, watching most of his length disappear inside your mouth while your tongue runs against his veins. “fuckin’ look at me when you’re suckin’.”

you submissively comply to his command, meeting those sharp eyes you adore beneath the tousled mess of his blond and white hair. 

“you love daddy’s cock?” he doesn’t intend to give you a second to answer before he continues,  “then you wouldn’t mind chokin’ on it, don’t ya?” 

you moan in response just as he expected and he snorts through his nose. “of course you don’t.”

bakugou brings your head closer, shoving down his cock your throat before he starts to snap his hips. a chorus of curses pass his lips, taut muscles relaxing as he drowns in euphoria. drool soon starts to dribble from the corner of your lips and your jaw starts to ache, yet you’re still insistent on accommodating his cock– using your tongue when you could until he’s exploding with a mouthful of oaths.

“such a good girl.” he grunts, holding your head firmly with tension in his fingers as he stares down at you with knitted brows. “feels good havin’ dick in your mouth? hm?”

“hmm–” you moan in concur, the vibration almost drives him mad and it’s evident through the twitch you feel against your hollowed cheeks. with an exasperated groan, he pulls out his cock from your mouth and pumps it in his fist. 

“take it off and lie down. now.” his words thrum through you in a burst of heat. you swiftly discard the dress and rest on your back, spreading your legs in front of him in anticipation before he proceeds to climb on the bed. you shudder when he spits on your cunt before smothering his cock against the slit and down to your entrance to give extra lubrication. 

a deep, inarticulate sound rips from his throat, one that conveys pleasure as he sheathes his cock inside you. he can feel your walls sucking him in so welcomingly and squeezing him so tight that he thought he might cum then and there.

“that’s fuckin’ tight.” he girts out, pushing through the walls until he has bottomed out. with each hand on the sides of your head, his large and shredded build looms on top of you and keeps your smaller frame caged underneath. 

“daddy– s-so big.” you extend your arms to cling around his neck, looking up at him with a lust addled gaze. 

“i know you can handle me, sweetheart.” he smirks conceitedly and starts to roll his hips, dragging every ridge and vein against your walls through each thrust. your toes curl when he goes deeper and your nails dig into his back, leaving crimson trails as they rake.

“l-love you, daddy.” the words slip past your lips so naturally in flawless manifestation of your genuine feelings towards him. 

you observe how his lips stretch into a simper, fiery and lustrous eyes staring back at you before he replies, “love you too, ba– fuck–” 

bakugou feels you clench around him impossibly tighter and he leans down to kiss you, forcing you to swallow down his moans as he ruts inside you harder and faster.

“baby– that’s right. daddy fuckin’ loves you.” his low and resonant voice fills your ears, pleasure pulling taut in your lower stomach as the pressure begins to build up rapidly for your second orgasm. “–and he loves this tight cunt.”

“ah– daddy! p-please make me cum–” you start to babble, too lost in pleasure and your legs find themselves wrapping around bakugou’s waist to keep him closer and deeper.

“don’t you fucking dare cum yet.” he snarls before lifting himself up to keep his hands on the headboard in front of him and instantly blocking your view of the room. not that you mind when you’ve already set your eyes on him the whole time. 

“no matter how many times i’ve fucked you–” he pulls out almost completely before ramming in again, making you squeal.  “you still feel so fucking good.”

your hands reach to cup his face gently, your lips parted and wet, eyes glazed with adoration and an overflowing want for him. “all for you.” 

he chuckles quietly to himself. who knew that he would find himself burying his cock in some dumb college girl? with her heart filled eyes that tell him he’s some kind of a savior or the last man on earth. whether it’s all superficial or not, he thinks you’re pretty damn good at it.

“you sure make it hard for daddy not to love you.” he scoffs. you let out a needy whine when he pulls out and your hole convulses, instantly missing the way his cock stretches you out and makes you feel full. 

but it’s not for long when your vision suddenly keels as he flips you over to lie down on your stomach. bakugou easily hoists up your hips and pushes down your back to force you into a perfect arch before he sinks his throbbing cock inside your sloppy cunt without warning. 

“nghh– daddy–!” you cry as bakugou pounds into you with a menacing pace and hits you at the right places at the same time. 

“yeah? you like it when daddy uses you like the little slut you are?” he grabs a fistful of your hair, jerking your head up. “like you’re nothing but my little cocksleeve?”

“yesyesyes– daddy–! s-so deep– can’t!” your strength begins to drain out and you don’t know how much longer you can hold yourself  before he allows you to cum.

“you can– fuck– you’re clamping down on me.” he growls, one hand on your hips forming crescent shapes on your skin with his fingers.

your jaw has fallen slack, mouth gaping in breathless whimpers as you let bakugou abuse your little cunny while your own hands are balling into fists that your knuckles turn white. the air is filled with the sound of skin slapping against each other, mingling with his heavy pants.

“you’re really– hah– milking this fat cock.” his own rhythm turns sporadic, skin burning red with every second he prolongs his desire.

“please– daddy–” you let out a feeble moan and your legs begin to tremble as a result of the unbearable pressure tightening in your lower stomach. your pussy is already leaking with so much slick and it’s making a filthy mess on the bed. 

“you’re ready to cum for daddy?” he fucks you harder with deep strokes, knocking the breath from your lungs each time he presses into you. 

“pleasepleaseplease–” tears prickle from the corner of your eyes as the coil in your stomach threatens to snap.

“cum.” 

the word left his lips in a pure command and you break down instantly with a loud cry. a huge wash of pleasure winds its way through every nerve and your pussy gushes and clenches around his cock. 

“that’s it. good girl.” a deep growl rumbles in his chest as he observes every twitch of pleasure he has brought into you. 

“th-thank you, daddy.” you mumble, still deeply doused in ecstasy.

bakugou finally releases his harsh grip and your head plops down on the soft pillow while he pulls out and pumps his cock in his own fist, coated with your own arousal before he splurts thick ropes of cum all over your cheeks and watches as it trickles down to your cunt. 

after a brief moment of catching his breath, bakugou reaches for the nearest tissue box and helps to clean off the mess you both made. you let your exhausted body fall onto the mattress and he throws the used tissues away before leaning back on the headboard next to you, still panting and trying to get down from his high. 

“you okay?” he breaks the silence, flicking his gaze towards you and rubs your head gently in hopes to soothe the pain he caused from pulling your hair so roughly. 

you hum, seeking for solace from his touch as he pulls the blanket up to cover your bodies and reaches for his phone on the nightstand with his other hand. you silently observe him as he looks at his phone, probably reading and scrolling through emails or texts like he’d usually do after having you wrecked. 

“love you, daddy.” you suddenly squeak, yet bakugou doesn’t tear his eyes from the screen and it leaves you unsure if he heard you or not. 

“hm.” his response is indifferent and your stomach churns into an unpleasant feeling; one you don’t appreciate at all. 

“daddy.” you swallow past the lump in your throat. “i said i love you.”

bakugou clicks his tongue and your heart shatters slightly at the sound, thinking that you probably just annoyed him, “yeah, i heard you.”

“bakugou.” you suddenly snap and the hand on top of your head stills. you don’t know where the courage to call him by his name comes from, but you want to convey your sobriety over the current situation and for what you’re about to say next. cold shivers run down your spine once his attention diverges towards you and he raises a questioning brow, ushering you to speak. 

“i-i love you–” you gulp, taking a deep breath. “like, i’m in love with you.” 

his stare is impassive and there’s an uncomfortable silence weighing the air between the two of you. your cheeks begin to warm up with humiliation and a part of you dreads with regret. you aren’t sure how long the deafening silence lasted before you see a twitch at the corner of his lips. 

“you gotta be kidding me.” he snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. 

you rise up on your side and your eyes waver with confusion as you look at him. “b-but you said you love me too. you do, r-right?”

he scoffs, mostly galled by the fact that he’s actually having this conversation with you– a dumb college girl, but he doesn’t expect much either. “why the hell would i be in love with you? did i knock your head?”

getting straight to the point is one of bakugou’s nature; his bluntness is like a sharp knife that stabs you in the heart. 

“but you said–”

“why do you think i only said it when i had my cock buried inside your cunt?”

and it twists painfully. 

“forget about it. go to sleep.” he nonchalantly replies and returns back to his phone, brushing off the wounded look that’s written all over your face.

you feel humiliated, angered and disregarded. given that you were always spoiled, you can’t stand having your feelings unreciprocated and rejection is one of the things you aren’t familiar with.

“why? because you have a wife? you don’t even love her–”

you flinch when you hear the loud thud of bakugou slamming his phone down on the bed, but it’s not as fearsome as the malicious glare he’s shooting at you. “don’t you fucking say that. i don’t wanna hear that, especially coming from a dumb whore like you.”

harsh reality gives you a massive slap in the face. 

your heart is hammering against your chest and your vision begins to blur as tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill out. you feel like you want to scream at him but the words you want to say only get caught in your throat. bakugou notices how you’re about to burst but he only rolls his eyes, expressing his vexation. 

“god,” he sighs exasperatedly and gets off from the bed to pick up his clothes from the floor. “the last thing i need is another fucking nuisance.”

“w-where are you going?” you croak as you watch him put on his clothes. 

bakugou turns to your direction and snarls, “what does it look like? leaving.” 

the pain in your chest becomes harder to bear, fat tears start to roll down your cheeks and when you try to reach for him, he coldly shoves your hand away. you saw how furious he could be through his phone calls but you were never on the receiving end; always the one who calmed him down and let him use you as a way to take out his frustrations on. now you’re nothing different than the rest of the people in his life, or maybe you were just too stupid to realize that you were never any different before too. 

“just leave when it’s time to check out. you’d know at least that much.” he scoffs as he walks to the door and twists the doorknob before turning back to you for what it seems would be the last time. 

“and don’t even think of finding me again.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[sweetyyhippyy]

Alone at Last. Spencer Reid x Female Reader. Part 2.

(Not my gif)

Summary: A few months after *part 1*. Spencer and his wife take advantage of an empty house while the kids are at school. 

TW: Mentions of taking a pregnancy test. Sex with the possibility of getting caught. Oral sex (female receiving). Fingering. Calling Spencer “sir”. Almost getting caught during sex. Mirror sex. Hair pulling. Dirty talk. Praising. Breeding. Creampie.

Word Count: 2.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 She picked up the white stick from the counter, frowning at the word “NEGATIVE” that was displayed on the screen.

With a heavy sigh she threw the plastic stick away in the trash, washing her hands and going out to start her morning. Her kids still had at least 45 more minutes before they had to get up which was long enough to get their breakfast cooking.

Spencer was away on a case out of state, which meant that getting both of the kids up, fed, and to school was all up to her.

As she went down the stairs she could hear shuffling going on in the kitchen and the smell of fresh brewing coffee. She peeked around the corner hesitant at first, until she recognized the back of her husband’s head.

“You’re home!” She cheers quietly, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him from behind.

“I wanted to surprise you and the kids. I got in about an hour ago.” He quickly turns around and takes his wife’s face in his hands, kissing her softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She responds, resting her head against his chest. “I um… took a test this morning.” She starts.

“Yeah?”

She looks up at Spencer and bites her bottom lip, looking displeased.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry.” Spencer says, rubbing her lower back in comfort.

“It’s been months that we’ve been trying. We didn’t have this much trouble getting pregnant with Jason and Valerie.”

“Well, with them we were younger.”

“Are you saying I’m old?” She asks, not being able to contain the laugh that was on her face.

Spencer’s eyes widen, realizing his mistake right away. “No! No! No, I’m just saying that you just turned 33 so it’s going to be harder to get pregnant. We were both in our early 20s when we had Jason.”

She sighs and nods her head. “I know. I just… I want a baby now.”

Spencer kisses her forehead and brings her in for another hug. “We’ll have another, sweetheart. But in the meantime, we get to make the baby and I know you enjoy doing that.” He whispers.

“Spencer Reid, it is 5:30 in the morning are you really trying to do this now?”

“I am.” He backs his wife against the counter and lifts her up, making her sit against the countertop.

“Spencer! We eat and cook on this counter!”

“And I’m about to eat too.”

She can’t help but laugh, covering her face with her hands and Spencer wastes no time with pulling her shorts down her hips and instantly licking a long stripe up her pussy. “Fuck!” She moans quietly, her fingers intertwining his hair. “I-I know you like doing that, and-fuck- I love when you eat me out too.” She gets lost in her train of thought as Spencer flicks his tongue back and forth against her clit, making her whole body go weak. “Oh my god!” She whisper yells. “We don’t have time for this if you’re going to fuck me.”

Spencer gives a few more licks before coming up and meeting her face to face.

“Come here.” She says, kissing his lips harshly.

Spencer took advantage of the fact his wife’s legs were open, taking his fingers and slicking his fingers up and down her folds, touching the wetness and slipping his fingers in.

“Spencer!” She whines, her head falling back.

Spencer kisses her neck, lightly nipping at the skin, making her yelp a little too loudly.

She covers her mouth with her hand, stifling a laugh.

“Shhh, so loud.” Spencer teases, a smile on his face.

“We have maybe 20 more minutes before the kids need to be up. We need to hurry this along.”

“Oh, so romantic baby.” Spencer says with sarcasm laced in his voice.

She hops off the counter and turns her back to him, bending over the counter. “I’m all about the romance.” She smirks, letting her shorts fall down around her ankles.

Spencer quickly fishes his cock from the zipper, stroking himself a few times before guiding himself in, a throaty groan coming from him. “Fuck baby, so wet.”

“You know you can just look at me and I get wet.” She whispers, clinging onto a clean dishrag on the counter.

Spencer kept a nice steady pace as he gripped both sides of her hips, railing into her. “You take me so well, baby.”

His wife hums in response, letting out a string of broken sobs, careful not to moan too loudly. “Baby, harder and please! I need more.”

Spencer gives her ass one harsh slap, making her yelp again. “You think you can take my cock going harder into you?” He asks, grabbing the ponytail that was going down her back and yanks it back.

“Yes sir! Yes I can take it!”

Spencer fucks into her harder, holding both of her shoulders for balance. “Sir? That’s the route you wanna go, darling?”

Just as she’s about to answer they hear a door open from upstairs followed by footsteps.

“Shit! No!” She cusses as Spencer reluctantly pulls out and helps his wife pick her shorts up and fixes them for her.

Spencer turns around to situate himself, trying to hide the evidence of what they were just doing.

She grabs the disinfectant spray and a paper towel, wiping the counter off as their son makes his way down the stairs. “Hi sweetheart.” She calls out to him.

He continues to rub the sleep out of his eyes until he sees his dad. “Dad! You’re home!” He runs to him, Spencer embracing him for a hug.

“Hey buddy.” Spencer says, holding his first born.

“Is your sister awake?” She asks Jason.

“I don’t know. I had to wake up because I heard sounds and didn’t know what it was. And then I had to go to the bathroom.”

Spencer and his wife make eye contact, his wife trying to hide the smile on her face.

“I’m going to go upstairs and wake her.”

“I’ll start on some eggs and pancakes for you guys, what do you think bud?”

She watches as Jason looks up at Spencer and nods his head, hearing him ask if he could help which made her heart feel full.

As she climbs upstairs she can feel the dull aching between her legs, something the both of them were going to have to take care of once the kids were at school.

***

“But mommy, daddy’s home! Why can’t we stay home?” Valerie asks from the back seat.

“Because you guys have to go to school. Daddy will be home when school is done.”

“But we missed him!”

“Honey, I know. I missed him too, but you guys have school, and I have work so I can’t hang out with daddy either.”

A slight lie. She did have work, but the kids didn’t need to know she took a “sick” day.

She looks back in the rear view mirror, both of her kids with a matching pout on their faces, ones that also matched Spencer’s pout. “Listen, if we go to school today, and you guys have a good day, maybe I’ll bust you guys out early on Friday and we can all go somewhere fun for the weekend. Does that sound like a plan?”

“Where are we going to go?” Jason asks.

“I don’t know, we can all talk about it as a family if you guys have a good day at school today. Can we do that?”

“Okay mommy!” Valerie says loudly, a smile on her face.

“Okay.” Jason says with not as much enthusiasm as his sister.

She pulls up to the parent drop off line at school, hearing both of the kids undoing their seat belts and gathering their stuff up. “Have a good day babies, I love you.”

Both kids give her a kiss on the cheek before scooting out the car door and walking hand and hand with each other to the school.

***

She makes her way up to their bedroom, ready to pick up where she and Spencer left off this morning, only to find him fast asleep under the sheets, soft little snores filling the room. She can’t help but smile at how adorable he looked hugging one of her pillows into his chest. Slowly she closes the door and goes back downstairs to clean the mess from breakfast and start some of Spencer’s laundry from his go bag.

After a few hours of cleaning up the kitchen and catching up on some laundry, she was beyond ready for a shower. She heads upstairs, quietly gathering new clothes while Spencer slept.

When she steps out of the shower she spots Spencer leaning against the sink, making her slightly jump. “You scared me.” She says, grabbing the towel and drying herself off.

“Come here.” He says, motioning her over with his hands.

She cocks her eyebrow at him and walks over to him, the towel pressed against the bottom of her face as she tries to dry it off.

“I need you.” He says, pressing her against himself.

“Yeah? Are we going to pick up where we left off this morning?” She asks, wrapping both of her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

His body buzzed at the feeling of how wet and warm her body was against his. “Do you remember where we left off?”

“You’re the one with an eidetic memory. Why don’t you tell me? Or better yet, show me where we were… sir.” She smirks.

Spencer turns her around, her back facing him while facing the mirror. “You want me to show you, baby?” He whispers in her ear, his fingers dipping in between her legs.

“Fuck!” She moans, gripping his forearm.

“Look at that, just out of the shower and you’re already wet for me.” He growls, nipping at her neck. His fingers quickly rub at her clit, feeling how hard he was getting as he heard her moaning and felt her ass pressed against his crotch.

“Spencer, fuck me please. Please baby, please.” She was desperate to feel him inside her again after this morning.

“Yeah, baby.” He groans, taking his sweatpants off to his ankles and sliding himself in painfully slow.

Both of them moan as he doesn’t miss a beat with thrusting into her in a good steady rhythm.

“Fuck that’s so good sir.” She says, looking back at him in the mirror.

Spencer takes a fistful of her hair and holds her head up, forcing her to look back at herself. “Look at you. You like looking at me fuck you? You like that, baby?” He grunts out, giving her ass a smack.

“Yes! Yes I love it! I fucking love it!” She moans back, holding the counter of the sink so she didn’t fall over. She loved watching Spencer look at her through the mirror and seeing how his mouth fell open while he railed into her, hunger in his eyes.

Spencer pulls back, turning his wife around and taking her face in his hands and kissing her harshly.

She wraps her arms around his neck while he lifts her up to sit on the counter, pulling back from the kiss. She opens her legs and smiles as  Spencer slides back in and instantly begins snapping his hips back and forth. Her own hips meet his thrusts, making her whimper as her bottoms her out. “Keep going sir!”

“Yeah baby. You’re doing such a good job taking my fucking cock baby. Such a good girl.” He says into her mouth, kissing her again. “Come here.” Spencer pulls her off the counter and brings her over to the edge of the tub, sitting on it.

She climbs onto his lap, sliding onto his cock with a pathetic whimper. She rests her forehead on his as she begins to grind herself against him, biting her lip.

Spencer grabs onto her ass and helps her fuck herself on him. He stares into her eyes, seeing her slowly fall apart on top of him. He pulls her damp hair back from her face, holding it at the back of her head. “That’s my girl. Yeah, you like fucking me don’t you?

“Yes!” She breathes out heavily. “Yes I fucking love it! Fuck you’re so deep in me sir.”

“That way I can cum deep inside you and put a baby in you. You want my baby inside you?”

“Yes I want you to give me a baby!” She almost yells, her voice echoing through the room.

Spencer kisses her lips, letting her hair go and letting it flow down her back. “You’re going to cum, aren’t you little one? You’re going to cum for me?”

She nods her head and bites her bottom lip again.

“Up. Let me fuck you.”

She stands up and sits back on the counter, massaging her clit as Spencer slides back into her.

His fingers replace hers and continues the circles. “Does that feel good? Do you like that?” He asks.

“Mmhmm! Don’t stop, please!”

“I’m not going to stop, sweetheart. I love seeing you fall apart all because I’m touching you.” He whispers, thrusting and massaging her.

She puts her hand on the back of Spencer’s neck and pulls his head closer to hers, kissing him deeply as her body begins to tingle.

It doesn’t take much more for her to fall apart against his cock and fingers, moans getting trapped between their lips.

Spencer pulls back, letting her moans fill the room while he still massages her. “I know baby, I know that felt so good.”

Between her clenching around his cock and hearing  her desperate and broken moans, Spencer could feel himself start to lose his composure. He swipes his thumb across her bottom lip as he touches her face lovingly. His hands didn’t leave his wife’s boobs as they bounced in his line of sight. “I’m going to cum, sweetheart.” He groans, sitting his eyes tight.

“Yeah baby. Cum inside me! Fill me up and make me feel good.” She coos.

He manages 2 more thrusts before shooting ropes inside his wife before stalling his movements. Deep throaty moans and grunts coming from him as he calms down.

She holds his body against hers, kissing his shoulder. “That was so good.” She half laughs.

Spencer pulls out slowly, kissing her lips as he does. “Come lay with me in bed.” Spencer says, helping her off the counter and taking her to their bed.

She cuddles into his side, nuzzling her head into his neck. “I love you Spence.”

“I love you too baby.” He responds, kissing her head. “Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm. Perfect.”

“Not too rough?”

She laughs and kisses his cheek. “Baby no. Just because we have kids doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy rough sex. Do you remember how we used to go at it before we had kids? It’s amazing how we didn’t have kids sooner.”

Spencer laughs. “Yeah we would probably have a whole sports team worth of kids at this point.”

“Can we take a nap?” She asks.

“Of course. And I’ll pick the kids up from school so that you don’t have to get out of bed.”

She grabs the bed sheets and covers both of them up, nuzzling closer to him. “I have such a good husband and father of my kids.”

Spencer puts his arm around her and rubs her shoulder until he hears her softly snoring next to him.

9 months later, Spencer would have two new babies to take care of alongside his wife: identical twin baby girls. Their house now up to 6.

[boldlyvoid]

can u do a blurb about reader wanting a baby and asking her co-worker Spencer to be the donor because he's smart and nice and she wants a cute baby?

you said blurb and i read 2K word fic apparently lmao

Late nights behind a desk were the worst. Y/N hated reading over case file, after case file, of horrific things as she tried to choose where they went next.

The only plus side was that she wasn’t alone, Spencer was at his desk just beside her. Like he always was. They had an interesting friendship, to say the least.

Ever since Y/N joined the BAU, Spencer and her were glued at the hip. They had all the same interests, liked the same music and movies, and they spat out information the same way, they were like each other’s dorky other half— but it was just a friendship.

They had a tradition to watch at least one movie together after a case, to just chill for a bit together. Always randomly picking one of their apartments to go to, spending the night together until one of them eventually wandered off to bed. Leaving the other on the couch.

They weren’t aware of their feelings for each other for a while. Both of them being so used to being alone, and never having anyone be interested in them before. It was hard to understand if the feelings they had were pure friendship, or if it could ever be more. If the sex would fuck everything up and take away that perfect happy place they found in each other, or would it make the bond stronger?

She noticed the crush before Spencer showed any signs of liking her back. She woke up every morning thinking of him, that's when she came to the conclusion that it was more than just a friendship. She wanted him in her life forever, she wanted to kiss his perfect lips and hug his soft body, wake up beside his messy hair and just love him for the rest of eternity.

She sighed as she picked up another file, not excited to learn about the horrible acts taking place in what people called, “the best country in the world.” She’d disagree any day of the week.

This one was a file about some missing kids apparently being spotted in a van altogether in Georgia, it looked interesting enough to be the next case. She hated reading all the info, seeing every kid's happy face in the file knowing that’s not how they looked now.

“Good god,” she groaned as she flipped through the case.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked over the divider.

“Nothing,” she shrugged, “just a bad case.”

She handed it to him over the desk, hearing him flip through all the sheets as he read a million words a minute. “We should show this to Emily first thing,” Spencer agreed, pushing himself over to her desk in his wheely chair.

“I will,” she smiled softly, taking the file back from him and placing it on her desk.

Spencer stood then, making his way into her space and rubbing his hand over her back slightly. “Are you okay?”

She sighed, “actually. no, I was telling Garcia I want to have a baby soon, and then I see things like this and I’m scared to do it alone but I don’t have any other option?” Ranting to him like he was her therapist.

“What do you mean?”

She turned in her chair to look up at him, his soft brown eyes really caring to hear the answer. “Sit,” she insisted.

He pulled the chair over more, sitting close enough that their knees touched. “I’m 36, I’m not having any luck finding a husband or a wife, I want a baby and if I have to do it myself I will, but what if I’m not enough? What if I have a boy and he grows up to be a killer cause he never had a dad?”

“Y/N,” Spencer’s voice was soft as he looked at her with a confused scrunch on his face. “That couldn’t happen, you’re a wonderful person, I love having you on the team and in my life, I know you’d raise good kids, you should do it.”

“Really?” She beamed at him, the words touching her heart and making her swoon a bit.

“I mean, it would be hard,” he added reason to the conversation. “You’d have to take time off, which would be good for bonding. My mother raised me alone and I turned out semi-fine, I don't hold any resentment for her not finding someone for me to call dad or even step-mom for that matter. I think if you give them all the love in the world like I know you’re capable of, your child will love you like you’re their whole world.”

She laughed as she noticed the tears welling in her eyes, waving her hand's in front of her face so she wouldn’t fully sob. “Do you want to be the donor?” She made a joke to change the topic.

Spencer laughed then too, “sure!”

Everything got serious again then, she looked at him a little differently. “Really? Cause honestly, you’re like a Grade A donor profile in the most expensive clinic!” She couldn’t help herself from laughing again at the absurdity.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad, 40 isn’t too old to have a child, is it?” He seemed to have decided that rather fast.

“Okay,” she nodded with a smile, “okay. That’s cool, sick,” she felt the words get smaller as she thought it over.

“I get it if you were kidding,” Spencer spat out. “I realize now that you might have been making a joke, I hope it’s not weird that I agreed so fast, it’s just that I think you’re a very beautiful and smart woman and the idea of helping you make a child makes me really excited. I think it would be a very good idea if you were being serious, but I get it if you’re not.”

She let him get it all out, always loving when he got like this on a case or in person, nervous or just because he wanted to talk, she loved to listen. And no one ever let him finish his thoughts, always wanting to beat him to the punch.

“Spence, I think you’re really handsome and smart too,” she smiled. “If you’re also serious, I am too.”

“How would we?” He asked as he pulled at the top button of his dress shirt, swallowing like he couldn't breathe all of a sudden.

“If you’re not opposed, I’m sure the good old-fashioned way would work?” She laughed, laying her hand on his knee softly.

It was like sparks flew at that moment as if all the fluorescent lights in the bullpen could have exploded and she wouldn’t have even noticed. Captivated by Spencer's eyes as he gasped at her touch.

“Not opposed in the slightest,” he said softly as he held his own hand over hers.

She couldn’t help herself from smiling. “Well, I think I’m all done here if you want to come to my place for a movie?”

“Sure,” he replied, offering her a hand as they stood up together.

He returned his chair to his desk, both of them grabbing their coats and bags and rejoining at the door.

“I should go say goodnight to Penny,” Y/N said softly. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah,” he followed her through the door and down the hall to the tech room.

“Knock knock,” Y/N said as she walked through the open door. “Oh great and knowledgeable one, I’ve come with my nightly farewell.”

“Oh my knight, I shall miss you,” Penelope played along, sauntering over to her and wrapping her up in a hug. “I leave you with this until your return.”

“Through scorching deserts, and blistering winds, I will make it back to you, always,” she tried not to laugh as she hugged her back. “I also brought forth the jester.”

Spencer was laughing in the doorway as the two of them looked at him, “hi?”

“The pretty boy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Um,” Y/N smiled, “Spencer and I are just going back for our nightly movie.”

Penelope looked at both of them, jaw slightly gaped, “nightly? I thought it was a case by case thing?”

“It’s a good excuse for us to talk,” Spencer smiled at her.

“Mhmm,” she smirked, “well have fun.”

She pulled Y/N back into another hug, hiding her face from Spencer, “I need all the dirty deets in the morning.”

Y/N smacked her arm softly as she pulled back, “goodnight pretty penny.”

“Farewell brave knight, handle with care, Jester,” Penelope pointed her finger at him, giving him a knowing glance.

“Yes, oh Knowledgeable one, always,” he blushed.

He reached out his hand for Y/N, interlocking their fingers as they left her office and headed towards the elevator. A rare moment of bravery on his part, holding hands like this didn’t spread a lot of germs.

“We’re going to have to discuss a lot of logistics like realistically this isn’t going to be just a fuck and oh look its a baby. This is a real live baby that we need to raise and care for,” she reminded him as the elevator doors shut.

“I’d like to be as involved as you’d let me be,” Spencer replied. “I don’t have to be 'dad' to them, I could be uncle Spence that’s fine too.”

“Oh no, you’d be Dad for sure,” she nudged him slightly. “I mean like, weekends and holidays and birthdays, your mom will want to see them surely, my parents will want to see them. Housing,” she looked at him horrified. “I have an apartment with 2 bedrooms, I don’t think I could let them sleep somewhere without me.”

“I have been looking at houses,” Spencer added before the doors opened to the garage, “you’re driving right?”

“Yeah, you were saying?” She replied, digging her keys out of her purse and leading him towards the car.

“Derek Morgan, I’m not sure if you’ve met him yet, he fixes up old homes in DC and Virginia now. He just finished one and I helped him with it. I think I’m going to buy it from him. It has 4 bedrooms, we could all live under the same roof? It would be easier to co-parent.”

She was amazed at how fast he adapted to this as if he’d been having the same thoughts she was having. At a certain point wanting kids becomes a pipe dream filled with desperation and emptiness, he looks like he’s experienced it too.

She opened her door and sat down before replying to him again. Thinking about how wonderful he was going to be during this process, “thank you, Spencer.”

“For what?” He asked as they both closed their doors.

She sighed, relaxing into her seat as she started the car. She turned to him softly, not wanting to cry as she spoke softly. “Being a mom is more of a dream to me than joining the BAU was, this is the best gift you could give me.”

He reached his hand out again, holding it softly. Running his thumb over her knuckles. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah,” she nodded softly.

He couldn’t make eye contact with her, staring at their hands as he rubbed her skin.

“Um, I’ve been pretty infatuated with you since you joined,” he let it out finally. Like a ton of bricks off his back he relaxed a bit, “after everything with Maeve, Cat and Max… oh god, and JJ... I was so worried that if I got too close to you I’d lose you. I tried to keep the feelings in, that's why I said what I did to Penelope. She knows how I feel about you.”

It was like fireworks were going off in her chest as the butterflies erupted inside of her. She sat up, turning to him more and ripping her hand from his grasp.

It startled him, he looked at her anxiously as if she was going to yell at him. But she placed both hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss.

His arms snaked around her waist, wishing they could get closer if it wasn’t for the damn centre console of her car. Pressing their lips together, hard, as they breathed each other in. Desperation taking control, she wasn’t able to let go of him.

When she finally did pull away, however, the look on his face was priceless. Like expensive art, every line and freckle had a meaning. He was surprised, enamoured, grateful, desperate for more.

She smiled softly, rubbing her thumbs over his cheek. “Good, cause it would be awkward having your baby and not getting to love you every day too.”

taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[lubdubsworld]

Perfect Imperfections.

Jeon Jungkook x OC 

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content. 

Rating : 21+ 

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so ) 

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes] 

Chapter 1

After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond. 

Everyday began much the same. 

The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .

And now came the harder part.

Getting my legs to work. 

It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point. 

Deep breaths helped. Sometimes. 

But not today. 

“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little. 

“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?” 

The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way. 

It had been eight years ago.

 A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg. 

The skin stitched together. The bones grew back. 

But the nerve damage stayed. 

I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches. 

But it wasn’t something I could hide. 

People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed. 

The girl who couldn’t walk. 

I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place. 

“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.

“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.” 

I smiled a little. 

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said . 

She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head

“No, Mrs. Jeon.” 

I sighed.

“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly. 

How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole. 

Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.

Jungkook ran  marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered. 

Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy. 

I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large  portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed. 

What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be. 

Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company. 

And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son. 

Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing. 

I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me. 

Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad. 

But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it. 

It was a brutal sort of realization. 

That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change. 

Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate. 

So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed. 

And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.  

We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking. 

I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.                                                              

Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me? 

And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone  and of course, how little he cared about me. 

Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid. 

As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him. 

There was a reason. There had to be. 

So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to 

And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days. 

And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me. 

Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant. 

I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn’t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.

I could already imagine .

 Finally. Now he can’t leave you. 

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in. 

I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face. 

The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here? 

“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped. 

“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me. 

“Come on.. get up.”

“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms. 

“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”

My heart dropped.

“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the 

“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?” 

I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so foreign....so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare. 

“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively. 

“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated. 

“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.

“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”

“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned. 

“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking. 

“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists. 

Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would. 

“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes .  I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.

Jungkook looked shocked. 

“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away. 

“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened. 

���Leah... enough.”

“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt. 

“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.

“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “ 

He didn’t reply.

“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly. 

I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway. 

Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.

 Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it? 

I shook my head. The Jeon’s were  a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.

The only reason my father had agreed to 

And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it. 

A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day. 

I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked. 

There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch. 

“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared , 

“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”

“He just left... Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously. 

She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?

“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.

She left. 

The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either. 

My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate. 

Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place. 

I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me. 

As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.

But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting. 

And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name. 

My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning. 

Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. 

I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something. 

When he didn’t, I sighed.

“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.

He sighed. 

“I’m not going to cheat on you. “

I nodded.

“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?” 

He exhaled sharply. 

“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.

“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.” 

Jungkook nodded. 

“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long. 

“I’m going to go lay down.”

“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled. 

I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint. 

“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.

“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened. 

“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head. 

“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore. 

“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.

i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly. 

 Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...

 I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. 

“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out. 

Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.

“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost. 

“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath. 

We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a  thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it. 

I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face. 

“ Leah-”

“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.” 

Silence. 

“Have you told your parents?” 

I exhaled sharply.

“No.” 

“Mine?”

“No...”

“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him. 

“No.” I said softly. 

He sighed. 

“Alright. Should  I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?” 

I laughed. 

“How very practical of you..” i said. 

“What else do you expect from me..”

“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.

“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.

 This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly. 

“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”

“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted. 

I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us? 

“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently. 

“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.

I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.

“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?” 

He didn’t say anything.

“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt. 

“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.

I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.

“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.” 

I turned away. 

“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly. 

He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling. 

Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down. 

i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest. 

“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing. 

i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling. 

I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought. 

Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control. 

[otptings]

After Sex Cuddles

♧Idol; Renjun

♧Requested; No/Yesssssss

♧Word Count; 2.9k+

♧Genre; Sub!idol, Smut, fluff

♧Warnings; self deprecation, verbal abuse (choreographer), marking, lots of praise, mommy kink, cock slapping (once or twice), pegging, anal fingering, dacryphilia, cum eating, multiple orgasms, snowball kiss, biting, lack of aftercare

♧Synopsis; After a bad practice, and getting yelled at by the guest choreographer all Renjun wants to do is be back in your bed. Interpret that how you will.

♧A/n; So I had already started this off out of fun, and then someone requested this so I changed some of the stuff around to fit the request. thank you for requesting this, I really hope you like it, and if anyone else liked this I accept requests for NCT, SVT, and Enhypen.

“My pretty boy.” The view from your spot in between Renjun’s legs had to be your favorite. His hair spread out against the pillow, brown strands being illuminated by the bright blond halo that was hidden underneath. Cheeks flushed a bright red that spread down his chest, all the way to where his cock stood, sitting pretty and straight up, tip also flushed red from the lack of attention. There was so much that you wanted to do to him, and with his week long break you had all the time in the world.

“Please mommy. Do something.” You pinched his thigh, a squeal leaving his mouth before his pretty pink lips formed into a pout. Shaking your head you rubbed over the red spot with your thumb, shocked by how much he begged even while you were doing everything for him. You quickly forgave him though, knowing just how hard this comeback has been for him.

“You just relax baby. Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” Renjun quickly muttered yes before tossing his head back when you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting his salty pre cum that was dripping from the slit. Just as quickly as you pulled it  into your mouth you were releasing it with a pop, causing Renjun to whine at the lack of warmth. Taking pride in the way that his blush seemed to brighten just by the few seconds that you took  him into your mouth.

“Let me make you feel good. Show you how amazing you really are.” You didn’t wait for an answer, just connected your lips to his unmarked thighs, biting and sucking hickeys onto the milky flesh. His moans started to fill the room again while his hands grabbed at the sheets, squeezing them tightly before releasing them. His hips attempted to buck up, but you just smacked the head of his cock, causing a whimper to leave his mouth before he dropped them back down. You were one step closer to your goal.

~

“Renjun, you need to keep up. You’re so slow on this part, Chenle show him how to do it please.”

“Jeno and Jaemin y’all both did amazing.”

“Mark did a great job. Renjun, why can’t you be like him?”

“Haechan you’re energy is absolutely amazing, Renjun you need to work as hard as him.”

“Jisung can’t dance right now so you need to carry your weight, Renjun. Without Jisung everyone will be looking at your sloppy dancing.”

“You shouldn’t be in this group. You’re just holding the others back.”

“I love Nomin, they’re so cuteeee. Why is Renjun sitting in between them?”

“Why is Renjun even in this song? Jisung and Chenle look better than him anyway.”

“Renjun should be in the back and give Haechan more time to shine. No one wants to see him anyway.”

“Renjun should just leave the group, he doesn’t fit in with any of them.”

His feet pounded against the concrete sidewalk, words of the choreographer and comments from the fans echoing around in his head. The pitying face of his manager as he refused a ride, opting to run all the way back home. He knew he’d be in trouble if any sasaengs saw him, rumors would definitely swirl the company about idol mistreatment but he couldn’t sit in that car. Not with the others. What if they realized everyone was right?

When Renjun reached your apartment he was soaked in sweat, hoodie plastered to his body. With shaky hands he pulled his key from his pocket, almost dropping it on the ground before pushing it into the keyhole and opening the door. The smell of ramen flooded his nose, his stomach growling at the realization that he hasn’t eaten since before practice. He could still feel the panic simmering under his skin, tears still threatening to spill in the way that they intensely burned his eyes.

“Baby.” At the sound of his voice cracking you appeared in the bedroom doorway, a bright smile on your face  that morphed into a look of concern. He hadn’t thought about his appearance, but after hours of practice along with running over 3 miles to your house he surely didn’t look good. Maybe that’s why all the fans hate him. He doesn’t look golden like Haechan, who appears as if he’s glowing everytime that he sweats, or as unbothered as Jeno and Jisung, who you can barely tell danced for hours beforehand.

Maybe he shouldn’t be in the group after all. He really doesn’t fit in.

“Is everything okay? Why aren’t you at the dorms?” Renjun smiled weakly at you, tears brimming in his eyes before walking past you into the bedroom, turning to face you as stray tears actually run down his face.

“I need you.”

~

After he told you what happened you were extremely tempted to go to their studio and give everybody a piece of your mind, anger flowing through you at the thought of anybody making Renjun feel as if he was anything less than your whole entire world. However, you knew that would reflect badly on Renjun and you’d never do anything that could hurt him. Instead you talked to the boys, who were also feeling the same way but they talked to Taeyong who was going to report the choreographer to the manager. Knowing that Taeyong was going to deal with it helped put your mind at ease. Even then you couldn’t relax fully until you had taken care of your pretty boy, especially with him begging you to dom him. How could you ever say no to that?

That’s how you got him like this, laid out all pliant for you to play with. Bruises covering the inside of his plush thighs, leading up to his pretty cock. Now you were working on his pecs, ghosting your breath over his nipples causing him to squirm underneath you, waiting until he begged before flicking your tongue over them, pinching his thigh when his back arched up to your touch. Drinking up all of the pretty noises that made, the quiet moans of your name as you sucked more bruises over his chest, leading them down over his stomach. Sitting on your heels you took in the sight before you, his hair plastered to his forehead, cock head an angry red now and steadily leaking pre cum, pooling on his lower stomach, right over a well placed hickey giving it a glossy sheen.

“You look so gorgeous baby. All laid out for me to use. Just like my little doll?” You wrapped your hand around his cock, jerking it slowly, pressing down on his hip to keep him still. A hiss left his mouth at the feeling of your dry hand dragging over his cock but combined with your warm mouth encasing his nipple he could sob from the pleasure.

“Mm-mommy please.” Releasing his nipple from your mouth you sat in between his legs, still stroking him slowly, watching as he bit his lip, trying to hide some of the moans that you were pulling out of him so easily.

“What does my pretty boy want? Mommy wants to give you whatever you want. You’re so good for me, how couldn’t I?” Your cooing sent Renjun over the end, shocking both you and him. His warm cum squirting out over your hand, covering your fingers and his stomach.

“Aw, did Mommy make you feel that good? You came so quickly. My pretty boy is so cute, so precious.” Renjun’s hips bucked into your hand as you continued to stroke him, causing a few tears to roll down his cheeks from overstimulation. Finally you released his softening cock, a whimper leaving Renjun as his hips bucked up once more before letting them rest against the now sweat soaked towel underneath him.

Placing two cum covered fingers to his lips you watched as they disappeared between his bruised lips, feeling his tongue swirl around them, cleaning all of his cum. Removing your fingers from his mouth you repeated the action until his stomach was mostly cleaned from his cum. With the last bit of cum you decided to have a little taste, moaning as you placed your fingers covered with his salty cum in your mouth before leaning down and connecting your lips, pushing the remainder of his cum back into his mouth.

Renjun’s arms wrapped around your neck, keeping you pressed against his chest as your tongues fought, mixing the cum with your spit before you finally pulled away, a trail of saliva mixed with cum spreading between your lips.

Settling back in between his legs, you rubbed your hands up his thighs. Admiring the  now purple bruises that lined them, punctuated occasionally by a prominent bite mark, your teeth adorning the pretty, previously milky thighs. You gave Renjun a little break, after all this was all to treat him, not punish him.

“You never asked your question, baby. What do you want, you know I'll give you anything.”

“You.” You cooed at his cute answer, feeling a smile spread over your lips.

“You already have me pretty. I’m right here playing with my beautiful baby? Don’t you want me to do something specifically for you. I’ll do whatever you want, baby.” You cupped Renjun’s cheek, rubbing your thumb over his cheek which was steadily brightening again.

“If you don’t tell me, baby how can I give you what you want? Don’t you want me to please you? Mommy just wants to make you feel better.” Renjun poked his lips out in a pout, before his eyes moved, focusing on something behind you. Turning around you saw that he was looking at your dresser, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“You want me to peg you?” Renjun nodded quickly, eyes watering as if he was going to cry. “Then you have to ask properly, baby. You’ve had a really bad day and I don’t want to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”

“Can you please… peg me?” Renjun’s eyes seemed impossibly big, and scared as if he was worried that you’d say no. As if that was possible.

“Of course baby. Hands and knees so that I can open you up properly, ok?” You moved off the bed, stripping out of the shorts and bra you had one - an easy outfit to do chores in, an even easier to tease Renjun in - before pulling the lube and strap on from the top drawer. When you turned back you almost lost your breath, seeing your pretty boy on his hands and knees, back arched properly to show off his pretty pink hole. A sense of pride flooded through you, at the realization that he was all yours, and everybody who commented ill about him didn’t know what they were truly missing. Crawling back on the bed behind him you ran your hands over the inside of his thighs, listening to his breath hitch when you pressed down on his bruises. Uncapping the lube you poured some over your fingers, warming it up in your hands before squirting some directly onto his hole, watching it drip down over his balls. Scooping up some of the excess you rubbed your finger over his hole, laughing as he moaned unabashedly.

Teasing him you dipped your finger in shallowly, watching as the rings of muscles accepted you, almost sucking you in before pulling out causing him to let out a cry every time. Remembering why you were doing this you decided to stop teasing, pushing in your first finger all the way til the knuckle, watching his hole greedily sucked it in.

“God, every part of you is pretty Renjun.” As Renjun grabbed at the sheets weakly, you inserted your second finger, scissoring him open while purposely avoiding his prostate. “You're so quick to accept my fingers. And all these pretty moans you're letting out. Wish I could show everybody this part of you.” At the thought of that Renjun let out a whiny moan, attempting to fuck himself back onto your fingers. You stopped working him open, just watching as he weakly fucked himself onto your fingers, whining and whimpering. “I think you’d like that. If I recorded this, showing everybody just how pretty you are. Everybody would be jealous, seeing you fuck yourself on my fingers, so needy for whatever I give you. My perfect little doll. My Renjun always looks so pretty.”

Pulling your fingers out you ignored the whine Renjun let out, along with the urge to spend 30 more minutes working Renjun open, just to see how needy and desperate you could get for you. Pulling the strap on you tightened the straps, enjoying the slight power high you felt looking down at Renjun, still arched prettily but now thighs shaking from anticipation. Slathering the dildo with lube you stroked it a few times, warming up the lube slightly. Turning Renjun onto the back you pressed the tip against his hole, watching Renjun’s face contort into pleasure as you slowly pushed in.

Moments like these are magical. Watching as Renjun slowly relaxes before nodding his head, looking surprisingly innocent as his doe eyes stared up at you. Thrusting into Renjun, being able to see just how much pleasure you’re giving him, seeing his mouth dropping open as he continues to release sinful noises that were sure to get you a noise complaint, your hand moving to brush his hair out of his face so that you can see him better. Fucking Renjun was a privilege that you didn’t know how you earned it, but you would be damned if you ever took it for granted.

Renjun wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you down so that your breasts were in front of his face before sucking your nipple into his mouth causing you to release a moan of your own.

“Fuck Junnie. Feels so good.” With Renjun’s tongue flicking over your nipple, his warm mouth encasing your hardening bud it got hard to focus on your thrusts, slowly becoming sloppier the harder that he sucked. Biting your lip you angled your thrusts upward, hitting Renjun’s prostate perfectly, which actually ruined the sweet night of love making you had planned. As the tip of your strap brushed his prostate Renjun jolted, accidentally nipping your nipple with his teeth as his nails dug into your back causing you to hiss.

“Junnie.” Your voice took on a scolding tone as you looked down at Renjun, eyes widened as he realized what he did, before taking on a cat-like appearance as he bit down again, a little harder, causing you to groan from the jolt of electricity rushing through you. You sat up, gripping his waist tightly before setting a pace, fucking into him brutally, ignoring the way that his hands grabbed onto your bicep, nails scratching lines that would surely hurt tomorrow.

“Tried to treat my baby well and he wanted to be a brat,” Smacking Renjun’s cock, as you quickened your pace, hips flush against his with every thrust, “Just a little brat who doesn’t deserve to be treated nicely. Maybe you shouldn’t even cum because of that stunt? I should just leave you hard, put a cock ring on you and leave you just like this.” Renjun shook his head, knowing that was an all too real punishment that you would give him. It took a great act of strength to remember why you were doing this. Lifting your hand up to his cheek you cupped it sweetly, contrasting the aggressive and brutal strokes you were giving him, abusing his prostate with every thrust.

Renjun’s whimpering only inspired you to go harder, listening to his moans as he begged you to let him cum. A luxury you didn’t want to indulge due to his nasty habit of biting.

“You close Junnie?” Renjun nodded his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to fight his impending need to cum. “Beg and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

“P-please mommy, s’ sorry, need to cum.” Renjun sobs as your hand wraps around his sensitive cock, thumb rubbing over his dripping slit. “Sorry, need to cum, p-please mommy, I'll be good, s’good.”

Normally his begging wouldn’t be enough, you’d have made him kneel before him, forcing him to plead for any orgasm that he wanted, but since he’s had such a hard day you decided to go easy on him.

“Cum for me baby.” Renjun arched his back as he came, white cum squirting over his stomach as tears ran down his cheeks, sobbing as his thighs shook on either side of your waist. You continued to thrust into him, until his cock started to soften and his sobs turned into quite whimper. Cupping his cheek you wiped away his tears, pulling out gently so as to not overstimulate him. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Sticky.”

“Do you want to take a shower now or in the morning?”

“Morning.” Nodding your head you started to leave, trying to get a rag so that you could clean him but stopped as Renjun grabbed your hand.

“Can we cuddle? I’ll let you clean me later, I just really need you.” You wanted to tease Renjun, but seeing how hard his day was decided against and just crawled back onto the bed, smearing the cum on Renjun’s stomach as he cuddled up against you, placing his head on your chest. “Thank you. Sorry for being so needy, hearing everybody complain about me just hurt a lot. I’m sorry.”

“I’d do anything for you Junnie. Don't believe anything that they say, you’re perfect.” Renjun let out a sigh before closing his eyes as you placed a kiss on his forehead.

He needed to be cleaned, but who you are to deny your perfect boyfriend after sex cuddles.

[itsapeterthing]

Last Breath || Peter Parker

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

summary: You and Peter have been best friends for years, fighting alongside each other as Avengers. When you nearly die, the true feelings you and Peter have for each other come to the surface.

a/n: Peter’s 19 here b/c let’s just pretend infinity war and endgame didn’t happen and it’s 2021 lol. This is also my first time writing in a long time and first time writing for Peter. Feel free to request below!

word count: 3.2k

warnings: mentions of death, blood, fluff, and I guess angsty, crying Peter

masterlist || request here

You had first met your best friend Peter Parker two years ago after you learned you had powers and had been discovered by the Avengers. Being the youngest two of the Avengers and the same age, you and Peter were practically attached at the hip and everyone was aware of it. Whether it was having each other’s backs during missions, helping each other with homework or binge watching the latest sci-fi television show together, you and Peter were inseparable.

As much as you and Peter had tried to convince yourselves that you were only best friends and nothing more, everyone around you could see through that facade. They caught what you two tried to hide from one another- the stolen glances, the jealousy, the stuttering, the getting flustered when anyone brought up the prospect of you two being anything more than friends.

It’s not as if you two weren’t aware of the feelings that you had- you knew you liked Peter more than a friend should- but you weren’t about to tell him and have him laugh in your face, ruining everything you’ve built. So, the two of you lived in less than blissful ignorance, hiding your feelings from one another.

There wasn’t a nice way to put it- during your last mission Peter got absolutely wrecked. Although he had super-human abilities, even he was taking a longer time to recover which meant him staying back at the Avengers Compound while you and the rest of the Avengers went on a mission.

Peter knew that you could handle yourself and admittedly had powers that exceeded his, but he worried about you and tried to beg you to stay behind with him. He hated the idea of you going out and him not being able to have your back. He wouldn’t be able to relax unless he knew you were safe and he wouldn’t be able to keep you safe while you were out fighting and he was confined to his bed.

“Y/n, please.” He begged, tucked under his sheets.

“Peter, they need me.” You insisted.

“Not as much as I need you, though.”

“Oh yeah?” you chuckled at his attempt to implore you to stay.

“Yeah!” He continued. “Who’s going to stay here and look after me? What if I need something? Plus, my leg has been really aching.... so... I think it’s decided! Besides, what would you do if something happened to me?”

You laughed. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Peter. You’re fine. I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.”

Debatable, Peter thought. He always noticed when you were there and especially when you weren’t.

“Okay, but, hear me out-“ He explained. “What if someone tries to attack the Compound? I can’t do anything to protect myself! I could die!”

“You’re not going to die, Pete.” You smiled. “If you die, I’ll kill you.”

That was the last thing you said to your best friend before you left with the rest of the Avengers. You would be lying if you said you were totally fine going on this mission without Peter. You were anything but calm. Sure, the others would have your back, but not the same way Peter did, swooping in at the last moment before someone got to you like he was always looking out for you.

You told yourself you’d be fine. For the most part you were. You could handle yourself and you had a good grip on your powers. You covered others and they did the same for you in return.

You had always heard that no matter how good things were going, it could change in a blink of an eye. One moment you could be kicking ass and the next you could be dead. You thought you knew better. You thought that you had everything covered, but you were so focused on the creatures in front of you, you didn’t even hear the one behind you until you felt the blade go through your abdomen.

It happened so quickly you could barely even process it. As soon as the blade went through you, you heard gun shots and the creature behind you and all those in front of you drop. You didn’t even notice, only moving your shaking hands to your abdomen, feeling the area and pulling them away to see your hands covered in blood.

The next thing you knew Natasha was at your side, noticing your wound and turning back to face you.

“Y/n, listen to me, it’s going to be okay.” She said frantically. You know she meant well but the way she lost her cool let you know that this was definitely not a good situation.

The sharp pain running through you made you lose your balance and collapse into her arms. You heard her speak into the ear piece, telling the others that you were injured and needed to get help ASAP. She continued to try to keep you awake and to assure you that everything would be fine but all you could do was cry back frantically that you weren’t ready to go.

When you began to feel light headed, you heard footsteps and without looking up you knew it was Tony.

Seeing you in your current state, he cursed to himself and looked at Nat. “The kid is going to kill me.”

You know he meant Peter.

“We have to get her out of here. The blade staying in there helped, but there’s only so much longer she can go without a hospital.” Nat said.

You felt Tony kneel besides you, still leaning into Nat’s arms. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You could barely even pay attention to what was going on around you, just thinking about how you could die any second. It happened so quick. Before he could pick you up, coughing up blood and struggling to speak you told him. “I told Peter this morning that if he died, I’d kill him myself.” You laughed. “It’s ironic now that I think about it. He told me not to come. He was right... and so were you.”

Picking you up, to rush you to the hospital, he asked, “Right about what exactly?”

“It feels so stupid now,” You spoke, feeling more blood drip down your chin. “I should have just told him. You were right. I do love him.” Beginning to feel lightheaded again and struggling to breathe, you told him: “If I die, be gentle with him... okay, Mr. Sta-”

--------------------

Peter couldn’t sit still in bed, knowing you were out there fighting and he wasn’t there to protect you. Not being able to put his mind or body to rest, he threw off the covers and began climbing out of bed. Sure, he had a difficult time balancing at first and was walking with a bit of a limp, but he could handle it.

Walking out of his room and into the hallway, he heard muffled voices coming from the room, meaning that at least some of the team had made it back home.

Eager to see you, he stumbled quickly into the main room only to be met with Steve and Natasha. Taken by surprise he attempted to stand up straighter, leaning against a wall for help.

“Mr. Captain America sir,” Peter spoke nervously, still intimidated by the man in front of him, despite the many times he fought alongside him.

Both him and Natasha had grim looks on their faces as he attempted to peek around them in hopes of seeing you or Mr. Stark come in behind them.

“Peter...” Natasha spoke gently, slowly moving towards him.

Peter chuckled nervously, cutting her off. “Hey, where’s Y/n? Or Mr. Stark?”

Nat and Steve looked at each other before turning back to Peter. Steve stepped forward, reaching his hand out to Peter’s shoulder.

Peter glanced nervously from Cap’s hand on his shoulder to his face, asking again. “Where’s Y/n?”

“She was injured. Tony rushed her to the hospital and they’re operating on her now.” Steve spoke plainly.

Peter’s heart rate jumped and he began breathing heavily, looking between Nat and Steve frantically. “Injured? What do you mean injured? Wait, surgery?” His brain was moving a million miles a minute. He could barely comprehend what was going on, fearing the worse.

Nat spoke this time. “There’s not a nice way to put it, Peter. She was...” She pauses looking at Steve. He nods and she turns towards Peter. “She was stabbed. It happened so quick, Peter. There was nothing anyone could have done.”

Peter feels like screaming that there was something that someone could have done- that he could have done if he had only been there to protect you. He knows that Natasha means well but he can’t help but beat himself up, knowing you’re dying somewhere and he never even told you how he felt. He couldn’t bare to think about your body lying in Nat’s arms while you were covered in blood, scared of dying.

As much as he wanted to scream, he could just feel tears coming to his eyes and turned around, rushing back to his bedroom. He could hear the footsteps of Steve and Nat as he slammed the door behind him, wincing as he stripped himself of his clothes, searching for and grabbing his spiderman suit and pulling it on.

“Peter, what are you doing?” He heard Nat speak through the door.

Holding back his sniffles, he flung open the door, pulling the spider-man mask over his face. “I’m going to go see her.”

Natasha, watching as he struggled down the hallway spoke, “You can barely walk! You can’t go.”

He continued.

Cap spoke this time, “Kid, I get it, but there’s nothing you can do. You have to let yourself hea-“

“No!” Peter shouted turning around. The crack in his voice was evident to the two avengers, making his sobbing clear. “I could have done something! If I was there I could have saved her. She wouldn’t be dying right now if I had been there. This is all my fault, don’t you get it? If it weren’t for me getting hurt I would have been able to protect her!”

The three of them stood in silence and when he felt that no one was about to speak, Peter sighed. “I have to go.”

When Cap was about to go after him, Natasha grabbed his arm. If Peter was hell bent on going, it wasn’t worth trying to stop him.

“At least let us take you.” Natasha said. “You’re crazy if you think you can just swing from here to the hospital and you definitely can’t walk.”

--------------------

The whole way there he had beat himself up for not being by your side, thinking of all the ways today could have gone differently so it didn’t have to end with you dying. He was so exhausted from crying, thinking about you, all the moments he shared and praying that he would get to make more.

Making it to the correct spot of the hospital, he saw Mr. Stark now changed out of his iron man suit and into a regular suit, standing outside a hospital room. When he made eye contact with Peter, Peter stopped short in the hallway.

“Take that thing off.” Tony insisted, pointing his finger at Peter’s mask. “I didn’t just donate millions of dollars to this hospital to keep you two’s identity a secret for you to keep that mask on. Come on, let’s go, I can’t take you seriously in that thing right now.”

Peter hesitantly took off his mask, stumbling further down the hallway. Even from far away Tony could see Peter’s tear stained face, red eyes and red cheeks, surely from crying since the moment he found out.

“Is... is she going to be okay?” Peter asked.

“As good as someone who just got stabbed with a blade from an alien planet can be.” Tony spoke before turning to look at Peter, who was visibly distraught. He sighed, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “She just got out of surgery. If you trust these doctors... they say she’ll be okay.”

For the first time since Peter found out he felt a weight lift off of his chest and the ability to breathe normally come back to him.

“Really?” He asked, cheerfully.

“Yeah, but-“ Tony continued. “You have to knock this off.”

Peter furrowed his brows. “What do you mean, Mr. Stark?”

Tony sighed. “This.” He gestured between Peter and the room you were resting in. “You two. No more of this little elementary school crush stuff.” Peter felt his cheeks flush. “She thought she was going to die after fighting aliens with her superpowers and the last thing she said was that she loved you. It’s disgusting, honestly.”

Peter didn’t even know how to process this. You were in love with him? You were in love with him! He had had feelings for you for so long that he didn’t even think it was possibly for you to look at him as more than a friend. Not only did you look at him as more than a friend- you loved him. Not only did you love him- you thought you were dying and you spent your last words on him.

“I know you feel the same way so just cut it out and tell her.” Tony spoke.

Peter snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Mr. Stark. “How did you know?” Peter, realizing he just admitted Mr. Stark was right coughed, embarrassed. “I mean... why do you think so?”

Tony laughed. “You’re a smart kid, Parker.” He placed his hand on one of Peter’s shoulders. “But you’re not that good at hiding it. I mean I can’t even count how many times I caught you checking her out in her suit never mind the other times where-“

“Okay!” Peter yelped. “I get it.”

“Not even just me either,” Tony continued, chuckling. “Everyone and I mean everyone, knows.”

Peter, on the verge of being mortified, shouted again. “Mr. Stark! Please stop!”

Finally Tony stopped, checking his watch, looking back up to Peter. “You’re right. She should probably be awake by now anyway. Why don’t you head in?”

“Are you sure, Mr. Stark? What about you?” Peter asked.

“Well,” Tony clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “You’re the one she just confessed her undying love for, so I think she’d rather see you, kid.” He pat him on the shoulder one last time before walking off. “Good luck!”

Peter watched as he walked away down the empty hallway. Holding his mask in his hands, he then turned to the door of the room you were waiting inside. He took a deep breath before opening the door.

His heart shattered when he saw you laying in the hospital bed with your hands folded over your stomach. He hated the idea of you being hurt and it made your near death experience even more real to him.

“Hey, Peter.” You spoke, your voice almost a whisper.

“Hey Y/n.” Peter answers finally looking up from all of the medical equipment you were attached to to instead look at your face.

As he moved closer to sit in the chair besides your bed, he could still see dried remains of blood at the corners of your mouth. He grimaced, piecing the scene together.

“Pete, stop looking at me like that.” You spoke, paused then smirked. “Thanks for showing up in your suit by the way. Nice touch. I can’t believe the spider-man came to visit me.”

Peter smiled but then it faltered. You always knew how to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t help but think about how he was so close to never seeing you again. “You almost died, Y/n.”

“So I keep hearing.” You replied.

“It’s not funny, Y/n.” He spoke seriously, dropping his mask by his side and taking one of your hands. “I- I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re my best friend and other half. I know our lives are really complicated, but I don’t know, you make it better. I can’t help thinking about how you almost died. When they told me what happened I thought I would never see you again, Y/n.”

You let yourself become vulnerable, squeezing Peter’s hand, but before you could even speak, he opened his mouth again.

“Mr. Stark told me about what you said.” He spoke softly, scratching the back of his neck, not meeting your eyes.

You tried to stop your heart from racing knowing you were not only attached to a heart monitor, but that Peter also had super senses. You couldn’t help yourself though. Was it mistake to say all that? To be fair, you thought you were going to die, but now that Peter’s sitting here in front of you, you’re scared he knows about your feelings and that he’ll reject you.

“Oh-“

“I like you. A lot. Maybe more than a lot.” Peter starts rambling before you could even finish what you were saying. “It’s not just because you spent your dying words telling Mr. Stark you loved me either. I’ve liked you- actually now that I think about it- loved you- for a really long time. Probably since I first met you, honestly. It’s not because you’re like this super cool superhero chick either- don’t get me wrong, it’s super... wow- but I love you for you. Even if you had no powers or anything, I would still love you. I know this is probably a lot and maybe you just said that stuff because you thought you were going to die, but I know that I love you an-“

And just like that years of pining for you just spilled out of Peter’s mouth before you cut him off.

“You like me?” You asked again.

“I mean I love you, but uh... yeah.” Peter said slightly flustered.

Not being able to sit up or lean forward too much due to your healing wound didn’t stop you. Hearing his answer was all you needed for you to grab hold of the front of his suit, pull him towards you and kiss him.

Peter was shocked at first, but soon hummed in response, planting his hands on the pillow on either side of your head. When you pulled away you smiled up at him. “I love you too, Peter. I’m sorry it took me nearly dying to say it.”

Peter, trying to contain his excitement, just smiled and kissed you again, savoring every second of it.

Little did the two of you know that outside your room stood some of the rest of your group of the earth’s mightiest heroes, peeking in on your moment with Peter.

“I can’t believe he finally told her.” Nat said.

“What I can’t believe is that she actually felt the same way.” Sam spoke. “You’re telling me that she spent her dying breath on him?”

“What can I say? I taught him everything he knows.” Tony stated confidently as they turned back, watching the two of you through the hospital room window.

Unfortunately for Peter’s sake, they also witnessed him going to place his hands on your waist while kissing you and accidentally grazing your healing wound, causing you to yelp and wince.

“Sorry!” he shouted. “Oh shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? I’m so dumb, I’m so sorry-“

The others turned to Tony.

“Okay... well there’s only so much you can do to help that poor kid. That’s not on me.”

[seriouslysnape]

To the Limit

__

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Slight smut. Use of safeword. Language.

Request: Hi! Can u make Severus × Reader when the reader use the safe words for the first time because idk maybe it's too much for the reader that day or smth else you like..Thankyouu 💕💕 love ur writings btw ❤❤

A/N: Here we gooooooo. Reminder, everything is consensual.

Word Count: 2,947

“Okay, darling. Whatever you want.”

__

Severus has always been flexible in the bedroom. Yes, Severus Snape is versatile in the sheets and has more love making skills than you originally would’ve given him credit for. Sex with Severus can range anywhere from slow and careful where praising your body is his main objective, to fucking you so mercilessly that stars are dotting the back of your eyelids with each hard thrust.

Sometimes, you don’t have to establish what kind of theme your sessions will take on. If Severus comes home angry from a long, obnoxious day then you very well know that a rough fucking will get it out of his system. When you’ve just watched one of your favorite romantic drama Muggle movies that have sent you into tears, he knows that something more unhurried is in order so you are reminded of how much he loves you.

Other times though, there isn’t really anything that determines the kind of sex you’ll be having. If the mood is right for both of you, then you often will just figure it out from there. 

Severus’ return on Friday night from a long week of classes was coated with his desire for you. You could practically feel the hard sexual tension radiating off of his whole being. From the moment he walked in the door, you knew what tonight would hold for the both of you. More than likely, it’d be a whole lot of rutted fucking and orgasms until neither of you had any stamina left to give. Normally, a seed of excitement would be planted and begin to grow in your core at the thought of being touched by him, but you didn’t feel it this time. 

It had been a bad week to put it simply. Work was weighing you down and you had taken more hits than you were used to in a five day time period. Exhaustion had riddled you, and stress has gotten the best of you. Emotional breakdown was the only way you could describe how you were feeling. You really weren’t feeling up to what Severus wanted to do. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him when his hands and lips were on you, moving to all his favorite places on you.

His voice was silky smooth in your ears as he uplifted you with how he had been thinking about you all day, and how he wanted to be with you when you weren’t around. It wasn’t Severus’ fault that you had a bad week, and it surely wasn’t all his fault that he was this turned on. The way he gripped your legs with his strong hands was an indicator that he wanted to go well into the night, which your tired state wasn’t a fan of. But you loved Severus, and you always wanted him to be happy and well pleased. So you figured you could handle a couple of coarse rounds to satisfy him.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Once access was granted, Severus leapt onto you without hesitation. A tornado of clothes being removed whirled around the room, your shirt and pants ended up on complete opposite sides of the room. Hot and unruly kisses were shared, marks were left on your necks, and no part of you went unattended. 

Admittedly, the first orgasm was actually enjoyable. Severus’ fingers were knuckle deep in your needy cunt and pumping vigorously as he found all the best spots. The strenuous activity melted some of the week’s stress from your conscience, your mind being stripped of all your worry as it clouded with ecstasy. Severus thrived off of the moans and noises of delight that he was drawing out of your throat, perfecting his movements to give you an even stronger release. Severus worked you to your finish as you came around his fingers, slicking them with arousal and relief. 

He left lazy kisses over your breasts while you took a moment to recover, preparing yourself for the next round that was undoubtedly on its way. Tiredness had plagued you long before Severus had even walked through the door, and you had suddenly been robbed of even more energy, so you were confident that you might not get a proper orgasm this second time. But the moment Severus slid you onto his dick and stretched your walls the way only he knew how to, you knew that you were going to cum whether you felt like you could handle it or not.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You loved seeing Severus so enraptured in waves of pleasure and gratification, but you were beyond fatigued. Still, you bounced up and down on his lap over and over again, your already sensitive clit throbbing with each rub of his fingers. Severus’ other hand guided your hip movements to meet the way he thrusted up into you, hitting your g-spot just right.

When you came this time, your sound of release was more of a strained cry than a content sound. Severus didn’t seem to notice, since he was too focused on the intoxicating feeling of filling you with his own finish. You popped off of him before he was even emptied out, the rest of his fluids landing on your inner thighs. You fell onto the bed next to him, your breathing much heavier than usual. 

You were totally tuckered out with absolutely no hope of another round. Your muscles ached and your bones were wiped out. Although, you felt a queasy feeling of despair when you saw that familiar look of lust in Severus’ eyes. He spoke lowly, his voice echoing in your ringing ears.

“I’m not through with you yet, love.” He purred.

Usually that would’ve sent a whole mess of arousal through you, but you were too worn out. But Severus usually didn’t last more than three rounds, so this would for sure be the last one. You thought you could push through so he could at least get his release, but this third go round wasn’t a good feeling for you at all.

With your arms above your head and the pillowcase below your head in your fingers’ death grip, you turned your head to the side to fight through his persistent hard fucking into you. On a better day, you’d be all over this and relishing every moment. But now your eyes were screwed tightly shut in discomfort, for each time you opened them Severus would only be able to see the whites of your eyes. The thumping heartbeat in your ears was deafening and your entire body was stiff and rigid, but not in a good way. You wanted to tough it out so at least Severus could finish, but it was just too much for you tonight. 

You had to tap out.

“Polyjuice!” You squeaked out, your voice raspy.

In an instant, you saw any expression of lust wiped straight from his face. He pulled out the millisecond that the word registered in his head, his face stricken with worry and concern at the first time use of your agreed safe word. Severus’ heart dropped at your whimpers of displeasure, his brain reeling and raking over what had gone wrong. 

“[Y/N], what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked frantically.

“I-I just...”

Shaky breaths and uncomfortable whines were the only noises you could seem to make. You sat up from where you were laying down, bringing your knees to your chest and hiding your face as you began to cry. Your emotions were all over the place, and it didn’t help that you were overstimulated and overworked. Severus went to pull you to him, but withdrew his hand. Upsetting you further would absolutely crush him, but he needed to know that you were okay.

“Can I touch you, darling?” He whispered out.

The yowl of approval was enough for him to feel fine with carefully wrapping his hand under your arm and dragging you across the mattress to where he was kneeling on the middle of the bed. He pulled the covers over your skin to keep you from getting cold from the loss of heat from being active. You buried your head into his bare chest, your tears leaking and falling down his skin. 

“I’m sorry, Sev. I’m really sorry.” You sobbed, your hair sticking to your sweaty skin.

“No, no, no. Don’t ever be sorry for telling me to stop when you’re not comfortable,” He reassured; “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

The shake of your head brought relief upon him, but he was still worried. He rocked you in his arms until your sobs died down enough to where you were coherent. Severus was getting ready to ask you once more what was wrong, shifting you so he could see your face. When moving you, his hand accidentally brushed against your swollen, sensitive clit and you wailed out pathetically. Severus’ pale face went even whiter.

“Oh, my love...I worked you too hard, didn’t I?” He queried.

Severus would always admit that sometimes he’d get into the zone and completely drown everything else out. He wouldn’t really be able to tell how hard he was pulling in and out. It was rare, but from time to time you’d have to ask him to soften his thrusts or slow his pace when he got too rowdy. But you had never asked him to stop completely until now. He feared that he had seriously pushed you over the edge this time.

“It’s not just that.” You confessed with a sniff.

Severus had drawn your head back to gaze into your bleary eyes. The tear tracks being swiped away with his thumbs as he cradled your face. 

“What is it then, sweetheart?” He asked with wonder.

A fresh set of salty tears pooled and fell down your cheeks, but for a different reason.

“I’ve had a horrible week. Nothing has gone right,” You explained croakily; “I wanted to make you feel good and I thought it might make me feel better...but I’m just exhausted and I couldn’t handle it tonight.”

You fell apart into another set of choking sobs and gut wrenching cries, prompting Severus to bring you back into his chest. He stroked your skin and left kisses so light that they were ghostly. 

“It’s alright, angel. I wish you had told me before that you weren’t feeling up to it,” He consoled; “You’re worth so much more than sex. I want you to tell me sooner next time if you’re uncomfortable.”

Your nod of understanding offered a wash of comfort over him that you were calming down steadily. He hated that this happened. He knew that was the whole reason for your established safe word for when things went south or things got dicey. He just never thought you’d ever have to use it. He felt absolutely terrible. 

“I’m sorry, Sevvy. I really wanted you to get off, I just-”

“Please don’t apologize for this. This is my fault. I should’ve seen how tired you were and how I was being overly hard,” He said; “I’m the one that should be sorry.”

The sniffles from your nose had increased as you tried to flush down all the drainage from your crying. Your tears had stopped as you sat up from his body, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. The red blotches in your puffy eyes were pinging at Severus’ already guilty conscience. He saw the littered hickeys across your neck and breasts, and how your lips were swollen from his severe kisses. He had rocked your burnt out body to the max.

“I’ll tell you what. How about we go get cleaned up, and then we can get into bed. Then you can tell me about your week if so wish.” He suggested, cautiously guiding you off of the bed.

“I think I just want to get a bath and get some sleep.” You said, barely able to stand on your wobbly legs.

“Okay, darling. Whatever you want.” He smiled softly, hoping it’d offer you some kind of solace. 

Severus ran you a hot bath, filling it with all of your favorite scents and smells. Your stance was still despite your shaking legs, and you seemed to be staring off into an endless trance. You slipped into the tub when it was ready, sinking down just below your nose under the bubbles. Normally, Severus would be sitting across from you or you’d be snuggled up on his lap, but he wanted you to have some space for a bit. You were honestly too tired to object. 

He simply casted a charm to freshen himself up, finding and selecting his favorite pair of sweatpants and soft shirt for you to change into. Your eyes were closed, and you had just begun to drift off to sleep when he re-entered the bathroom, changed into some casual day time wear, despite how late it was.

“Here are some clean clothes for you, pretty girl.” He remarked, setting the folded sweats and shirt on the end of the tub for you to get when you got out.

You only gave a light nod as a response, your eyes following him as he stood awkwardly. He was unsure of what to do for you now. He thought that you might want the bedroom to yourself for the night, which was fine because he wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing he had pushed you so hard anyway. He placed himself on the floor by the tub, sitting with his legs criss crossed over one another. It was quiet in the room, the only sounds were the occasional gentle splash when you moved your leg or arm. His eyes were still full of worry, and he was kicking himself big time now.

“I’m so sorry...” He breathed out, running his fingertips dragging leisurely your damp arm that you had resting on the ledge of the bathtub; “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sev. I promise.” You responded, wishing he wouldn’t take this so hard.

When it came to you, Severus took everything to heart. There weren’t many things in the world that made his heart beat with a purpose. You were the single person that allowed him to want to get up in the mornings. The thought of hurting you was enough to break him down. If he could have it his way, you would be indescribably happy with every passing moment of every day. He never wanted you to feel anything other than joy. 

But he knew that life would never allow it.

Your eyebrows dipped when you noticed his attire, wondering why he wasn’t in his own sleepwear. It was much too late for him to go anywhere.

“Where are you going?” You questioned, your voice thick with weary.

“I’m going to go back to the school. I have some grading to do.” He half-lied.

It was true that he did indeed have a stack of papers to be assessed, but that wasn’t the real reason why he felt like he wanted to leave. Severus Snape grading on a Friday night when he had the opportunity to be cuddled up with his lover? He’d choose you every time.

Now you felt bad for causing him to scurry off. You wanted him there with you regardless of what had happened.

“Severus,” You called out tenderly, reaching for his face; “I don’t want you to leave.” 

A genuine look of doubt flashed over his features as his head lulled into your hand.

“I think it would be best if you got some good sleep tonight. I’ll just be in my office so if-”

“Stay with me. Please?” You requested, the thought of sleeping without him was disheartening.

A sigh of awe expelled from his chest. He couldn’t say no to your puppy eyes and slightly pouting lower lip.

“Okay, okay.” He agreed.

“I think that some boyfriend snuggles will make me feel a whole lot better.” You spoke rather cheekily.

He hummed affirmatively. The sound of nestling up with you was impossible to turn down. He took your hand from his face and kissed your palm gingerly, holding the warm skin to his lips for a brief moment. He eventually stood from the floor, but stopped when you held your arms up.

“Help me up?” You asked with the first genuine smile of the evening.

He chuckled, obliging and lifting you effortlessly from the tub. The warm towel was heavenly as you dried off, changing into the clothes that Severus had left for you. Severus went and changed as well, laughing to himself when he exited the closet to see you already curled up. 

The sheets draped over him easily when he laid next to you, waiting for you to nuzzle up to him. He held you close and flush to him, thanking his lucky stars that you were okay.

“My sweet girl...” He hushed out, noting that you were just seconds away from falling asleep; “I love you.” 

You mumbled out a sleepy “I love you” in return before drifting into a deep slumber to snooze off the night’s drama. Severus, as expected, didn’t sleep much that night to ensure that you were sleeping soundly and comfortably. He still felt dreadful, even after you had told him over and over that he didn’t hurt you. The weekend to follow was filled with Severus doting and cherishing over you every chance that he had, trying to make up for what had happened. You were the light of his life after all.

And he prayed that he’d never see that flame go out.

[yandere-yandere-yandere]

HYPOTHETICALLY COULD YOU WRITE BILLY LOOMIS X READER W STALKING THEMES & M A Y B E BLOOD PLAY????? PLEASSEEEE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😫😫🥺💕😫🙏🥺😃✨

What if, hypothetically, I did it😳👉👈 I hope you enjoy, darling🖤

BILLY LOOMIS X GN!READER

Love you forever, Dollface.

Tw: yandere, stalking, gore, blood, implied nsfw, paranoia, derealization, depersonalization, panic attacks, dub-con, pet names, break in, objecti Billy being a creep and generally terrible

Ever since you moved to this damn town things have been off. School, home, everywhere you feel watched. High school feels like hell normally, but this is just absurd. You should feel safe in your own home, even in a new town.

It would be absurd to think somebody would take the time out of their lives to ever stalk someone. Let alone yourself. It was such a strange idea, it just felt so alien to you. Making somebody hate or love you so much they feel such a strong obsession to the point they feel a need to constantly watch you.

Even sitting in class you feel like you should crawl out of your skin and hide. Paranoia in high gear, feeling like somebody’s watching you, then and there. Eyes glazing over everyone in class as stealthily as possible as to not raise any suspicion, you don’t find anyone looking even remotely in your direction.

The noise of somebody getting up to turn in the paper snaps you from your trance causing you to jump with a suppressed whine. A few people glance up at you with too much interest. 

A semi-raspy, confident voice surprises you “Everything ok, dollface?” You turn to the  comforting voice with a wide eyed expression, “Yeah, I’m ok. Just wasn’t expecting that. Sorry.” He smiled. A small, admittedly pleasant laugh excaped him, “No need to apologize.” Going back to his school work, grin still ghosting his face.

You look at your school work. You barely have anything done,  after all you were too busy trying to figure out who was stalking you. The call from last night told you barely anything about the stalker besides their attention to detail and love to terrify you.

These thoughts continue for the rest of the day, till you got home, bearly registering you getting home, till you nearly knock into the door.

Later that night you got another call, as expected. It’s been happening on and off, they know so much that it would be almost impossible to find out that much without stalking you. This hell started a few days after you moved into your new house. It only escalated from the first call.

Picking the phone up you hear a raspy voice “Hello Y/N~ Are you happy to hear me? I missed you. Shame I can’t touch you now, I want to rub my hands across your legs, arms, face, choke you till your blue~” you start to tune everything out, nothing feeling real, feeling like nothings there. No sound, no touch, no sight, no stalker.

You break out of your trance just soon enough to hear, “I’m inside your house now, Y/N. I can’t wait to see you. I know you weren’t expecting me so soon, but I just can’t wait to touch you for another second. I love you so much, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo-“

Your grip on the phone almost makes the plastic crack under pressure. The sweat on your neck and hands were clear, eyes pinpricked. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. The room was so big yet so small. Why is it so loud?!

All this happening you didn’t realize someone, something was in the door way, watching you with obsession and twisted love in its violent hazel eyes. A soft smile plastered on a handsome face, under a feared mask.

Jolting back to reality thanks to a firm embrace, you flailed and gasped, unable to form words. “I didn’t mean to scare you dollface, I told you I was coming! I love you so much, calm down, babydoll.” Mask removed, a deceitful smile showing another being put on. “Billy? Billy Loomis? You- you did all...? All of t-“ choked sobs interrupting you.

“Shh shh it’s ok,dollface.” Something cold is dragged down your skin. Another choked cry through your trembling jaw.

The next thing you know your on your bed being striped down to your underwear, knife pressed down on your skin. A small cut, no worse that a paper cut just under the knife. Billy trembles with a sickening look of morbid curiosity and pleasure. The bulge in his pants apparent.

He makes a small, shallow cut right in between your shoulder and collarbone, blood slowly collecting and rolling down your skin. A small shaky breath from both of you.

A few cuts later, Billy is grinning like a madman getting his dick sucked. Cuts getting a little bit bigger and getting a little bit deeper. He starts carving something into you. You start to scream and cry before a strong hand grips your mouth. “Shhh, be a good girl/boy/babydoll for me. I don’t want to tape your mouth shut, doll.”

Still gripping your mouth, he keeps carving god knows what into your skin while you keep screaming and crying. A sadistic simile at the blood dripping down your skin, your agonized expression, and stained bed sheets.

“ ‘Billy’s property’, “ smile gracing his face, yet soon faded into a frown “ Shame you didn’t listen though, I wanted to hear the noises that come out of your pretty mouth.” Before you could question his words duct tape landed on your mouth, several more strips of tape followed.

You couldn’t move your mouth at all, let alone scream. Puffy eyes moved from the cuts on your body, tape on your mouth, to billy. “Well,” he took off his Ghostface costume and unbuckled his belt “lets get started, dollface.”