#but i legit think about this like once a week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sincerelyneo · 6 months

Note

omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore

its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖

ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3

arcade | p.js

“i’m out of control, full power up”

💿now playing: arcade by nct dream

❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.

❯ words: 3.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???

"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"

You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.

"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.

“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”

You may have lied to him about that.

When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.

So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.

But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.

And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.

"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Pretty please!”

You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.

"Fine."

He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.

There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.

Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.

“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”

He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.

“How about we play some pinball?

"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”

“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.

“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.

“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.

He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.

You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.

“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.

“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."

Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.

"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."

It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.

Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.

"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.

You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.

"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."

As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.

But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.

The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.

You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.

After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.

He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.

You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.

“Just look at the camera and smile."

Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.

"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”

You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.

Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.

You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."

Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.

“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.

But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"

Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.

Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.

But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.

"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."

The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.

When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.

He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.

“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”

“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"

If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.

You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.

Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.

"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.

You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"

He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.

"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"

“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”

He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."

"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.

"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.

And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.

“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”

Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.

"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.

"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"

You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.

"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.

"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.

Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.

"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.

As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.

"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."

You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."

Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.

A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.

"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.

You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.

For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.

"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,

You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."

He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.

He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.

When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.

"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”

Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.

You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.

He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.

That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.

"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.

He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.

"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”

All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.

The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.

As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.

The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.

Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.

Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.

“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."

Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.

"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.

"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”

"Later?" You ask.

Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”

He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.

"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"

Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”

He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.

"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."

You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."

"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.

#nct smut #park jisung smut #jisung smut #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut #nct scenarios #park jisung scenarios #nct imagines

903 notes · View notes

3liza · 1 year

Text

I feel very defensive about the "goth is bougie" shit because it is historically incorrect, yes, but also and more personally, because it just erases the generations of goth kids who grew up in trailer parks and project housing or just straight up homeless, helping each other out.

it's specifically such a supportive subculture for poor and neglected kids and I really fucking hate that this has been revised and erased. juggalos and goths are very culturally close and many subcultural people are both, and juggalos have the same (and, I would argue, even better defined) culture of collective support. the Skids in Letterkenny are not made up for the show, that's just a real type of rural subcultural person. this has also been forgotten in the interim but in the 90s and 00s we didn't even really refer to OURSELVES as "goths" very much except in a joking way. goths had regional endonyms (like "skids" or "trenchies") even if they could all go to a convention or a club in a city and in that context be all called "goths" together, once they went back home they would go back to being whatever the locals called them or whatever they called themselves. this is a whole linguistics and sociology subtopic that's out of scope for a Tumblr post but is sort of related.

my point is that people who wore actual rags, and sharpie instead of nail polish, and wet n wild eyeliner instead of black lipstick, and dyed their hair with markers or food coloring or kool-aid, were and are the core of the goth scene. the majority of the pictures the mallgoth blogs are posting are from catalogs, fashion shows, costume events, yearly balls and fetes like Wave Gothik Treffen, and other places where people save up literally all year, or many years in a row, to put together ONE outfit. and there's nothing wrong with that, personally I'm proud and pleased that our hard work is being recognized and preserved. but just like formal studio photographs from the Victorian era, it is not representative of the daily or even weekly (for clubs) reality of people in the scene, some of whom were completely out of goth clothing during the day or week just to fit in at work or sometimes just to get along without being bothered at home by family members who thought the Cure was Satanic.

the people who RUN the scenes, the promoters and DJs and gogo dancers and independent designers and people who run the mailing lists and websites, the people who organize the room parties at conventions, and yes even most of the original Burning Man camps like Thunderdome, they mostly live in poverty. especially if they're young. when people organize club nights and shows, they're lucky if they break even. I wasn't aware of any of this until I started working at DNA Lounge in San Francisco, which hosts one of the oldest goth nights in the country, Death Guild. I got to know the owner of DNA well enough to find out about the financial reality of the entire scene, even the people who own the means of production and the actual property in this case, and it's not lucrative. I mean, it sometimes is, if you're running a bar for normal people and have investment captain etc, but the majority of legit subculture economics is just barely breaking even. every single event is 90% volunteer labor.

the issue of labor is maybe the confusing thing for the zoomers who are confused. goth outfits take actual physical work. maybe the Aspirational Spectacle of Labor that makes up most of TikTok has made it appear unreal to the audience rather than something you can just sit down and do?

it takes forty seconds to make the fishnet tights into a shirt. you don't need instructions, you really can just look at it and figure it out. then you think, hm, if I can make fishnets into a shirt I wonder what other things I can turn into something else. your brain will amaze you. my mom would save her tights from her formal work outfits for me when they got holes or whatever and I would just go crazy with scissors and safety pins. lots of young designers are getting attention for this layered, tights-n-pins look at the moment and it really is a fantastic aesthetic but I wonder if people think there's something special about the people who make these clothes? there isn't. you can just do it at home while you watch trashy youtubes.

one time, around 2008 or so, @gothiccharmschool and I were at the photoshoot for tabletop RPG Unhallowed Metropolis. we were there with a bunch of local goths to all make the pictures for this book together. we had all brought tons of our costumes from home to cobble together outfits for the book illustrations, and there was a moment when I just handed Jilli a pile of black skirts and some pins and said hey Jilli, could you please make me up a bustle skirt for this model real quick while I shoot these other models? and of course she did, and they were beautiful, because she knows exactly what she's doing, and because that's all a bustle is: it's a way of bunching up a skirt with another skirt. you can do it at home. you don't need instructions or to hire a seamstress or watch a video. you can just look at something and say hm does it look like a bustle? let's drape it and play with it and pin whatever works. and then you wear it for the photoshoot, or to the club!!! and then next week you pin it a different way and it's a cape instead and you wear it again!!!!!!!

#blog #goth history #goth #looking like absolute shit at the club #as is my sacred right

3K notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 5 months

Note

can u maybe write a fic where hyper fem shy reader has had like - the biggest crush on rafe since forever? Like it’s sooo painfully obvious in the way she blushes when he simply looks at her or does what he says, or takes his advice on how she should dress or who she should and should not be friends with. She literally hangs on his every word and when the kooks are like “hey what do you think about [enter subject]” she legit just looks to rafe because she always agrees with him. He lowkey knows about her crush and rafe is evil enough, at least in my opinion, to extort that and enjoy it.

(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) 𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ ◜ ♩ 🐰

you had a crush on rafe and everyone knew it.

from the way you’d hold onto his every word, staring through your lashes with wide eyes at the simplest of stories, or giggle a little too loudly at every boyish joke he’d come up with — it was clear you were head over heels. too shy to make a move, sure — but almost just as happy to pine in peace. rafe knew this, it was abundantly clear — but he’d enjoyed having a sweet girl following him around like a lost puppy. in a sick and selfish way, it made him look good so he let it happen.

you hung onto the little moments, small victories in which rafe would give you the time of day. you still remember the time you walked up to the usual group you hung out with at the country club, rafe included and he’d turned to you, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes roam your form.

“hi.” you’d smiled simply as the rest of the group greet you, one of the other girls handing you a chute of expensive champagne — someone clearly celebrating something that day. rafes eyes lingered on your outfit. a small white lacy tube top with a matching white skirt and shoes. he places his bottle on the table and reaches towards you, fixing the small ribbon at the bust of your top. you freeze, eyes sliding up to his face in awe, watching the way the corner of his mouth tugs into the tiniest of smirks.

“i like this.” the compliment is simple, but you feel your body heat up regardless.

“yeah?” you smile sweetly and he nods, a small faux serious pout turned friendly grin before he was turning back to his friends and contributing to the conversation once more. you continued to watch him until one of your girlfriends nudged you, giving you a knowing smile.

another moment worth noting might be later on in the week, topper discussing an invite they’d received to a party thrown by someone they didn’t like too much. he turns to you, mid debate with his friends — involving you.

“look, what do you think? is it worth going to this party? i say a parties a party and if anyone starts their shit we beat their ass— but hey maybe that’s just me!” he lifts his hands up, the group erupting into debate. you stand quietly, before turning your head to look up at rafe sweetly, waiting for his input. he notes this, before stepping up closer beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“she knows we don’t fuck with them like that alright — don’t try n’loop her into your desperate tactics. you want a party? i’ll throw a fuckin’ party.” he shrugs, making the group swiftly agree, bursting into conversation as rafe looks down at you, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt collar. “don’t let this guy talk you into shit. you’re not goin’ to that party, trust me. come to mine instead.” and just like that — as usual, the moment is over as quickly as it starts but you still hold onto it, smiling uncontrollably at the fact he had his arm around you for even a moment.

(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) 𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ ◜ ♩ 🐰

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

660 notes · View notes

ma1dita · 1 year

Text

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter x you

1K notes · View notes

minswriting · 5 months

Text

AARON HOTCHNER NSFW ALPHABET

warnings: NSFW content, MDNI, dominant aaron, thigh kink, breeding kink,

A = After Care

aaron is so good at aftercare! he’ll check in on you emotionally to see how you’re doing before examining your body to see if you have any bruises forming. he’s sweet and kind, takes his time to really make you feel okay.

B = Body Part

aaron has two favorite body parts of himself. he loves his arms and holding you. but he also loves his voice. the assertiveness, the dominance that he accentuates with his words, he thrives off of it. on you, he loves your hair and your thighs. he loves to play with your hair or tug on it. but he also loves playing with your thighs. or fucking them.

C = Cum

when aaron cums, it’s legit erupting from his cock. and it has everything to do with the fact that he’s traveling most of the time and is stressed 24/7. he has a massive breeding kink too so when he’s fucking you for the first time in what feels like weeks, he’ll cum inside of you and literally fill you up to the brim.

D = Dirty Secret

aaron definitely has a daddy kink that he does not talk about at all because he’s too shy.

E = Experience

he’s only ever been with haley (they met in high school right?) but he had taken his time to know her body and to know female pleasure. so his experience is top tier. he KNOWS pleasure.

F = Favorite Position

i feel like hotch has a lot of favorite positions but he absolutely adores bending you over the desk while he takes you from behind, pulling your hair in the process. he also loves fucking you the same way in front of a mirror or in a very intimate sexual position.

G = Goofy

i don’t think aaron is goofy during sex unless you’re both really tired but need relief. when the two of you are so tired or even drunk, you’re giggling, laughing, crack a joke or two.

H = Hair

he’s either really well groomed or it’s wild down there. there is no in between. it truthfully just depends on his time and if he has time to make himself groomed.

I = Intimacy

sex with aaron is so intimate and it’s so intense. he’s the type to pound his cock inside of you so hard all while muttering praises into your ear about how beautiful you are and how well you’re taking him. all while he’s holding your hand.

J = Jack Off

aaron does not jerk off often. every once in a blue moon. however, he loves to do it when the two of you are on the phone and you’re just talking about your day. he definitely gets off to the sound of your voice and you’re more than okay with that.

K = Kink

honestly he has so many so here is a list lol

degradation, praise, sir kink, daddy kink, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, choking, hair pulling, and so many many more.

L = Location

i think he prefers to do it in the bedroom of all places but man does he LOVE fucking you in his office. whether it’s his office at work (which is rare because of how risky it is) or his office at his house. bending you over the desk and taking you is just top tier for him.

M = Motivation

you. always you. but also being super stressed is definitely a motivation.

N = No

he would never engage with blood play (unless you’re on your period. he will fuck you on your period) nor would he do anything to hurt you too bad. the most he will do is spank and choke you.

O = Oral

LOVES GIVING IT AND RECEIVING IT! he never asks for head simply because he gets off on your pleasure. but if you just drop to your knees, he’s never going to say no because it feels so good. he’s extremely good at giving it tho too. he is such a munch and will suck on your clit, lick your slit, etc.

P = Pace

his pace is usually hard, fast, and rough. he loves rough sex. but if he’s slow, his pace would be slow but hard, and it would be more romantic. pls i need his dick lol

Q = Quickie

he doesn’t prefer quickies. he prefers to take his time with you, making you cum at least three times in one session. however, he enjoys quickies occasionally, especially if it’s right before he has to go to work or it’s after he had come back.

R = Risk

he isn’t a HUGE risk taker but he would definitely dabble in office sex at least once or twice. but only when he’s sure no one else is in the bureau. other than that, he only fucks you at his house or your house.

S = Stamina

he usually only lasts for one long round but sometimes he can do two. it depends on how tired he is at that time.

T = Toys

i feel like he definitely has a flesh light. and when he fucks it, he imagines it’s your pussy. he is also perfectly okay with you having toys as well. especially because he can punish you with your dildo, not allowing you to have the real thing.

U = Unfair

hotch can be so unfair. he loves punishing you. especially if you’ve been particularly bratty. he will deny you orgasm, exclaiming that orgasms are only for good girls who listen when told what to do. he leaves overstimulation for when you’ve been really good for him.

V = Volume

i don’t think aaron makes a lot of noise. however, he definitely grunts and talks you through it. he’ll give praise or he’ll degrade you. regardless, he’s not a moaner. but he still talks!

W = Wild Card

you’d definitely have some sort of voice kink. and aaron would use this tone of voice that’s soft spoken but still authoritative while having sex that you can’t help but look in his eyes, captivated by his voice.

X = X-Ray

🥰🥰🥰 aaron’s cock is about seven inches but man he is GIRTHY!! his cock will stretch you out, filling you up in ways you’ve never felt before.

Y = Yearning

like many men, aaron is almost always down for sex. however, it’s not a priority to him. he prioritizes quality time over sex. however that in no way means you guys rarely have sex. he likes to have sex with you at least three times a week.

Z = ZZZ

personally, i think he’s very sleepy after sex. but he will always engage in aftercare before going to sleep.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine

586 notes · View notes

bro-atz · 6 months

Text

concrete bear

in which: jongho's finally done with his intense schedules, so he finally is able to dedicate more time to you.

pair: boyfriend!idol!jongho/afab!reader

word count: 5k

content: smut, jongho is possessive (+ a lil jealous?), basically mean dom jongho, homemade porno??, filthy as fuck boi, reader calls jongho teddy bear, jongho calls reader sweetheart and a colorful assortment of other "nicknames", legit most of it is sex, blowjobs, car sex, cabin sex, slight cnc, consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: brought to you by @songmingisthighs, your local bro, and @skteezcursed the most impulsive of collabs fr i don't even remember how we came up with this, but it's def iconic hehe also ik this took like five million years but there were a lot of speed bumps that i managed to figure out

network: @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @atzhouse

taglist: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever @sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyunukitty @startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @alexwritesfics @dinossaurz @woomyteez @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @sanglix @minkilicious @isiloiale apply for the permanent taglist here! beefcake raccoon, concrete bear, manwich series

Jongho had no reason to be jealous— he did give Yeosang his blessing, after all— and he wasn’t jealous, but he was slightly displeased.

He told Yeosang to make sure all your needs were met, and he only really expected it to happen once, but when he saw that Yeosang was giving it to you regularly while he was busy recording in the studio with Hongjoong, he was slightly, just slightly, displeased. He didn’t think that you would take to the man so well, so easily, but you did.

To make matters a little worse, he returned home one night to a seemingly empty space, and when he went to his room to turn in for the night, he saw you and Yeosang fucking on his bed. He minded that a lot. But, he kept his mouth shut. After all, he did tell Yeosang to pleasure you for as long as he couldn’t.

This went on for about two weeks— Yeosang fucked you every single night for two weeks until Hongjoong finally released Jongho from the depths of his studio. And luckily for Jongho, it was Yeosang’s turn in the studio next, which meant he seriously had nothing to worry about.

But that didn’t stop him from planning a weekend getaway trip for the two of you.

You knew that Jongho liked snowboarding and skiing, so when he told you about the trip, you were surprised but also not in the same breath. Regardless, you were excited. Fuck, it was the first time in what felt like months you were finally going to have proper alone time with your boyfriend, and you were so excited.

Well, you were excited, but also a little sad.

You had grown a lot more fond of your beefcake raccoon, and you really liked having sex with him, so you were honestly a little disappointed when Jongho said he was finally done being tortured by the captain, but you did your best not to show it because he was your boyfriend for crying out loud. You should be excited to spend time with him and not the man he practically made be your sex toy for a couple of weeks.

“Sweetheart?” Jongho’s smooth voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Everything alright?”

The two of you were at a cafe near the cabin Jongho rented out— he suggested getting coffee because you kept nodding off during the car ride. You didn’t realize how spaced out you were until you nodded and took a sip of your fucking cold coffee.

“Jesus,” you grimaced as you swallowed the cooled off and now disgusting liquid. “My coffee went cold.”

“Of course it did. I’ve been talking to you for thirty minutes, and all you’ve done is mindlessly nod,” Jongho scoffed. “You even nodded when I asked you if I should murder you.”

“O-Oh… Sorry, teddy bear.”

“Uh-huh.”

You shivered— Jongho had never been that icy towards you ever. He wasn’t pissed, but you knew he was getting there.

“Seriously, I’m so sorry. I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” you said softly.

“I’m sure you do,” Jongho nodded and took a sip of his— probably cold— coffee without even looking at you. “A lot has happened in the past two weeks.”

“Yeah…”

Jongho set his cup down and looked right at you at that point, his eyes burning a hole through you. He laced his fingers together and placed them on his knee as he crossed his legs. You felt the saliva pool in your mouth as you watched his thighs flex and his jaw clench slightly.

“Tell me something,” he started.

“What?”

“Was he good?”

You blinked, your eyes wide with shock. You nearly choked on your own spit as you choked out, “H-Huh?”

“Was he good?” he repeated, this time his tone a little more harsh.

“What—”

“Was Yeosang good?” you could tell Jongho was getting fed up by the way his eyebrows were furrowing into a straight line, his eyes hardening.

You couldn’t help but sigh not because you were frustrated, but because you were so close to laughing out of sheer nervousness. Running your fingers through your hair, you pressed your lips together before asking honestly, “Teddy bear, how do you want me to answer this?”

“Truthfully.”

“It was good.” Not going to lie, Yeosang was definitely better than good, but there was no way in hell you were going to praise another man in front of your long-term boyfriend.

“Good,” Jongho accepted your response as he leaned back in his chair and nodded. “Good.”

You didn’t know that Jongho was glad to hear you say that. Well, he knew that you were lying because there was no way in hell Yeosang was only “good” when he heard the way you were screaming his name when he accidentally caught the two of you that one time, but he was happy to see that that was how you were going to play it. With newfound determination, Jongho stood up. He pushed in his chair and asked, “Are you done?”

“Oh, uh, yeah!” you set down your cold-ass coffee and stood up as well, your legs scurrying after Jongho, who had already turned and started heading out of the shop.

Jongho had gotten into the car first by the time you got out of the shop. You quickly got into the passenger’s seat, and he started the car. The air in the car got thicker rapidly as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, the silence from the man practically killing you.

“Teddy bear…?” you spoke softly as he drove quickly on the highway, his hands grasping the steering wheel tightly. “Is everything… Are you okay?”

Your boyfriend didn’t reply, which only made you more antsy. Your body flushed with warmth when you caught his eyes flitting to you— more specifically, your legs. It was freezing outside, and you still opted to wear his favorite skirt since you were able to accompany them with tights, which you knew would drive the man absolutely insane.

One hand on the steering wheel, Jongho cupped the inside of your thigh with the other, his dainty fingers getting a tight grip on them. You couldn’t help but press your legs together as you tried to keep yourself together, but the tighter his hold on you got, the more you unraveled.

It certainly did not help when he started caressing the inside of your thigh, his fingers nearing your crotch with every rub. Still with one hand on the wheel, he skillfully exited the highway and drove through what seemed like a tiny, abandoned town before coming to a stop in a very empty parking lot. He stopped the car in a far corner of the lot and unbuckled both his and your seatbelt.

You didn’t need to ask him any more questions after that because, before you could even blink, Jongho unbuckled his pants and pulled out his stiff, angry cock. He looked you dead in the eye as he uttered, “Suck,” and you obeyed instantly.

The thing was that Jongho was being curt with his words— but he wasn’t angry. Rather, he was impatient, and the shorter his sentences were, the more his patience was wearing thin, the more he wanted to fuck you. Holding your hair back, you bent over and took him into your mouth.

It had been a while since you’d dealt with your boyfriend’s thick cock that you didn’t realize how wide you would have to open your mouth. You were honestly too used to Yeosang’s dick by then, after all. The corners of your mouth stung as his cock filled up your mouth entirely, your head moving slowly as you sucked him off. But, you were moving much too slowly for him, nor were you going down far enough. Grasping your hair himself, Jongho got a good grip on your scalp before pushing your head down all the way, making you gag and nearly making the corners of your mouth rip.

You could taste his salty precum hit the back of your throat every time Jongho guided your head, forcing you to give him a blowjob according to his wishes. And the thing is you would’ve minded had you not heard his airy groans fill up the car. You desperately wanted to look up at him and see the faces he made as you blew him, but his hold on you was so strong that you could only keep your head down.

“Just like that,” Jongho sighed blissfully as he felt you hollow out your cheeks and slurp up your dripping saliva. “Your mouth feels so fucking good, sweetheart.”

Muffled by his cock in your mouth, you made a lewd noise that somewhat resembled your own satisfaction. Bringing your hand to his cock, you stroked him as you continued to suck, bringing his orgasm closer with every stroke. You felt his grip on your hair falter, finally allowing you to look up at him. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was dropped open, his head flung back as he did his best to control his breathing. The second he brought his head down and looked at you, he couldn’t hold back. He came in your mouth, his hand finding its way back to your head as he forced you to stay down.

“You better fucking swallow, sweetheart,” he groaned and slightly hissed as he ordered you.

Looking up at him with wide eyes and his cock still deep in your mouth, you swallowed. You sat up, a trail of your saliva connecting your tongue to the tip of his penis. You straightened out your hair thinking that he was done, that he was going to get himself situated and resume driving, but his cock was still hard and thirsty. He moved his seat back all the way and patted his thighs as he shot you a dark, lusty look.

“R-Really?” you stuttered, unsure of whether or not he was being serious.

“Really. Pull your tights and panties down and get on my lap. Now.”

You did as he asked— demanded— quickly, your legs starting to tremble as you knelt on the driver’s seat, your knees on either side of him as you straddled him. You did like the idea of car sex with him, but the position you were in made you nervous as hell because what if your ass hit the steering wheel and made the car honk? Sure, the parking lot was empty and no one would know that you were being fucked by the concrete bear below you, but you would still die of embarrassment if the car did honk.

“T-Teddy,” you said tearily as you hovered above his cock. “W-What if my ass hits the steering wheel?”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” Jongho assured you. “Now sit.”

Gulping, you spread your folds and sat down slowly, the girth of your boyfriend’s cock nearly splitting you in two. Jongho let out a groan of pleasure while you sighed blissfully. As much as you liked the way Yeosang felt inside you, you definitely, definitely, missed Jongho’s fat cock.

Once you sat all the way down, you held Jongho’s shoulders and leaned into him. Your legs were shaking so bad that you couldn’t even start bouncing on his lap. So, Jongho assisted you. His fingers dug into your ass cheeks as he cupped them and he started guiding you, your waist rising as falling as he forcibly moved you. He ran his tongue along your neck as he moved you at a slow and steady rhythm, the sound of your ass coming down on his lap echoing in the car. Soon, the car started filling with the sounds of your breathless pants and the creaking of the driver’s seat as Jongho bounced you a little faster.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?” Jongho asked— you couldn’t see his face, but you knew for a fact that he was smirking. “You missed my fat cock, didn’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you confirmed while biting your lower lip, the pleasure starting to rush to your head.

“Use your words,” Jongho suddenly snapped, his hand smacking your ass with a loud slap.

“I-I missed your— Ah! Your f-fat cock, Jjong!”

“You just love it when my cock fills you up like this, right? When my waist— Hnngh— Hits yours from below?” Jongho said while thrusting his waist up sharply, his hips ramming into yours.

You let out a loud cry and gripped his shoulders more tightly as he started to fuck you relentlessly, his waist coming up to meet yours with such vigor that you felt like his cock was going to shoot right through you. That, plus the feeling of his hands gripping, pulling, and spreading your ass cheeks the more he fucked you made your brain go absolutely numb.

“Move your top and bra,” Jongho said sensually into your ear before running his tongue along the edge of your ear. “I wanna suck on those lovely tits of yours.”

Thankfully, Jongho allowed you to stop so you could lean back and push your shirt and bra up, revealing your erect nipples. You felt warmth rush through your body when you saw Jongho run his tongue over his lower lip briefly before taking your tit into his mouth and sucking hard. Your hands moved from his shoulders to his hair as you let out a sweet moan, your insides fluttering as he sucked and resumed fucking you.

You were rapidly losing all sense of sanity by that point. Every time you sat down, you felt like his cock was just getting bigger— either that or you were getting tighter as your orgasm neared. And you didn’t know why it was it, but when Jongho brought his teeth down on your tit and nibbled lightly, you came. Your entire body tensed as you creamed all over his cock, the pleasure continuing to build and build as he refused to stop letting you ride him.

“J-Jongho, Ah— Lemme cum,” you whined, your body yearning for perfect release.

Jongho listened. He pulled you off his cock quickly and completely, making your thighs convulse as you squirted all over his lap, your arousal staining his pants. And without a second to lose, he slid his cock back into you and fucked you so fast and hard that the stars that filled your vision when you came refused to go away.

“I’m cumming inside,” he grunted, his forehead pressed against your collarbone as his breathing started faltering.

His breaths got higher in pitch and shallower as he felt his climax arriving, and with a final thrust, Jongho came inside you, stuffing you full with his hot load of cum. His cock twitched and throbbed as he emptied himself inside you entirely, and once he was completely done, he kept you on his lap, his hands moving up to your breasts to massage them as he peppered kisses along your neck.

“I want you to listen to me,” he whispered, his voice huskier than you’d ever heard it before. “You need to keep my cum inside you. Don’t let any of it spill. If it does, then I’m going to fucking punish you, got it?”

Your body tingled all over hearing his demands, and when you leaned back to see the expression on his face, your heart fluttered. His words were deathly serious, but he had such a sweet, misleading smile on his face that you wondered what on Earth he was planning if you did end up disobeying him.

“Got it?” he repeated.

“Yes, teddy bear,” you said hoarsely while nodding.

Jongho somehow got you off his lap without letting any of his seed spill, and the two of you got situated. He ended up changing his pants— you were so busy trying to dress yourself carefully and clench with all of your might to make sure you didn’t spill a drop of his cum, so you didn’t even realize he had done so— before hitting the road again.

The drive to the cabin he rented out was actual torture. Jongho kept a firm hand on your thigh and made your pussy quiver every time his slender fingers moved closer to your crotch. You knew he was testing you, teasing you, trying to get you to spill so he could punish you. And you were determined to keep him in you, but that determination slowly faded the more turned you got.

Jongho was doing every single thing intentionally because he wanted to punish you. He wasn’t jealous or anything, he swears. He wanted to punish you for being a rude brat to him while he was struggling to work. He wanted to punish you for being so unbearably impatient that he had to entrust another member of his team to satisfy you and keep you occupied so that you wouldn’t be harassing him. He wanted to punish you for being such a cunt, such a slut that you had to fuck Yeosang every single day for two weeks straight.

His fingers found their way to your clothed clit and started drawing circles around it while he kept his eyes glued to the road, his face stoic. You gasped out and immediately tried to move his hand away from you while choking back lewd noises.

“Teddy bear,” you whined. “P-Please…”

“Please what?” he asked, his voice low.

You wanted to tell him to stop, but you didn’t want him to stop. You genuinely needed him to if you were going to keep him from punishing you, but you honestly would rather cum than have him edge you because his fingers rubbing against you just felt that fucking good.

That, and you couldn’t even vocalize your thoughts at that point. Your vision was going white as you felt him rub faster, your orgasm approaching speedily. You had a tight grip on his wrist, and you desperately tried to move his hand away when you felt the knot in your stomach snap, but Jongho was an immovable force. Clenching your thighs together, you came hard, letting the car fill up with your loud cries of pleasure.

And it was when the high ebbed away did you realize you were fucked— because when you came, you squirted, making his cum seep out of your pussy. Dear God, you were absolutely fucked.

The second you got to the cabin, Jongho started manhandling you. He grabbed your arm and led you right into the bedroom before grabbing you by the waist and tossing you on the bed. The bed springs squeaked as you landed and let out a gasp of disbelief. He immediately pinned you on the bed, his hands aiming for the waistband of your skirt and yanking it off. He ripped a hole right through your tights and tore the crotch of your panties right off to reveal your soaking wet pussy that had absolutely no cum left in it— it remained on your panties swimming alongside your arousal.

“You didn’t keep it in,” Jongho stated, disappointment evident in his voice. “You really want me to punish you, don’t you?”

“How the fuck was I supposed to when you literally made me cum again in the car?” you shot back, nearly hysteric.

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t fucking talk back to me.”

But you were going to, and the second you opened your mouth to do so, he grabbed your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks. He pulled your face towards his, his lips dangerously close to yours as he said in a hushed tone, “You’re going to listen to everything I tell you, got it?”

“That’s my punishment?”

“Yes.”

That didn’t seem so bad, but since you didn’t know was what he was going to tell you to do, you didn’t realize exactly how bad it was going to get. As you pondered what he was going to ask of you, he started stripping you down. He swiftly removed your top and bra and completely ripped your tights off your legs so that you were entirely naked as you laid down on the bed.

From your position on the bed, you watched as Jongho propped his phone up, the camera pointed right at you. Once he was satisfied with the angle, he started recording. He pulled his own clothes off and tossed them somewhere in the room before getting on the bed, his body facing the camera.

“Jongho, are you… Are you recording us having sex?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah.”

“As part of the punishment…?”

“Correct.”

You gulped nervously upon hearing his response. You wanted to ask him why, but you knew that he wasn’t going to give you a straight answer, or even an answer for that matter. So, you let it happen, and you let him pleasure you the way he wanted to.

Wrapping his fingers around your neck, Jongho pressed lightly into your skin, the blood already rushing quickly to your head as it got harder for you to breathe. He lifted you up, your entire body moving upwards to meet his. He flattened his tongue against your lips and licked them before kissing you passionately. His tongue immediately pushed into your mouth, the feeling of his tongue twirling around with yours along with the lack of air making you dizzy and desperate.

The longer Jongho kissed you, the harder it was getting for you to breathe, and while you did want to surface for air, there was something about the way that Jongho was expertly choking and kissing you that made you all sort of horny. You held onto his arms and brought your body closer to his while pulling down on his arms, hoping that he’ll continue kissing you roughly but loosen his strong grip on your neck.

Jongho got the hint. He finally let go of your neck, his hands opting to move to your hair. He gripped the back of your head strongly, snapping your head backwards as he proceeded to slather sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck. You were panting hard as Jongho’s lips made their way down your body. While one hand was on your head, the other ran along the curve of your hip and down to your crotch, his fingers stroking your pussy and entering you, making the most lewd squelching noises. You, as if you were trying to cling to your last bit of sanity, clung to his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into his skin.

“Oh, God, Jongho,” you cried as he fingered you ruthlessly, pleasure shooting through your body rapidly. “Oh my God— Oh fuck— Fuck, I’m c-cum—!”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence. You let out a loud whine mixed with a cry as your boyfriend’s skillful fingers made you squirt all over the bed, your body shaking vigorously as the orgasm washed over you. And despite the fact that you just came, Jongho refused to give you a break. The second his fingers were out of you, he turned you over so that you were on your elbows and knees, and he pulled your still sore ass up in the air so he could shove his fat cock into your wet cunt. You flung your head backwards and screamed your boyfriend’s name as you flattened your chest to the mattress, your hands clutching at the duvet beneath you as you felt his waist slam into yours.

“I’m surprised your cunt is still this tight after taking me in the car,” Jongho commented. “Your cunt still hasn’t gotten used to the shape of my cock again yet, sweetheart?”

You could barely think, so there was no way in hell you were going to respond coherently. You responded in the only way you knew how, and that was by moaning his name loudly, the moans slowly starting to turn into screams as he pounded into you from behind.

He had his hands clenching your ass cheeks and slapping your ass every so often, making your ass cheeks redder and even more sore with every passing second. He was relentless.

Then, he changed his position. He pulled out quickly and turned you over. You thought he was going to pin you down, but instead, he laid down on the bed and pulled your waist so that you were straddling him. He forced your hips down quickly, the feeling of his cock filling you up from below making your entire body tremble. You quickly pressed yourself down on his chest, a high-pitched moan leaving your lips.

That’s when you got killer déjà vu. You distinctly remembered Yeosang holding you the same way when Jongho’s hands pulled your legs open and thrust into you from below, his grunts coming out in the same fashion.

“Are you thinking about hyung?” Jongho bit out in between thrusts, totally catching you off guard. “You’re thinking about the way he fucked you in my fucking bed, aren’t you, slut?”

Your eyes went wide. You looked at your boyfriend through your glazed eyes, your entire body reacting to his words— how did he know that Yeosang fucked you in his bed?

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“H-How?”

Jongho smirked. Instead of giving you an answer, he sped up, his cock rubbing against your walls at a greater speed. You squeezed your eyes shut and cried loudly the more you felt your boyfriend’s cock tear your cunt apart, and within seconds, you came again. You clenched hard around his cock, evoking a pleasureful grunt from the man below you before he shoved his cock so deep inside you to fill you with his seed.

You collapsed entirely and buried your nose in the nook of his neck as you fought to regain your breath and sanity, but Jongho was having none of that. He pulled out, letting his cum trickle out of you, then moved you off him. You thought that was it, that he was done with his punishment because you were spent, but Jongho was far from done. It had been more than two weeks since he had fucked you, and he needed you to remember who you belonged to.

Grabbing your wrists, Jongho moved so that he was laying against the headboard, your back facing him as your knees were on either side of his waist. He let go of your wrists to spread your buttocks and push you down on his erection, his cock filling you up from underneath and making you cry out. You grabbed his thighs to help steady yourself, but within seconds, Jongho moved your hands so that they were behind your back, your arms trapped in the strong grip of his hands.

You cried loudly as Jongho thrust into you from below, you breasts moving wildly as you bounced on his lap, the sound of your ass hitting his waist matching the decibel of your moans. Through bleary eyes, you made eye contact with Jongho’s phone’s camera, the realization that his phone was rolling making your entire body flush with heat, making your cunt relax ever so slightly, but Jongho didn’t miss that note at all.

“You’re suddenly loose? What, is my cock not good enough for your cunt?” Jongho grunted out, his hips hitting yours even more firmly. “Do you really want that fucking beefcake raccoon’s pretty penis inside you right now? Do you want hyung to fuck you, slut?”

“N-No!” You immediately wailed in response. “I o— Oh! Only want y-you, teddy— Ah!”

“Is that right?”

Sharply snapping his waist up, Jongho moved quickly so that you were pressed against the bed again, your face and chest rubbing into the sheets as he somehow fucked you even harder than before— something you didn’t think was possible. Your arms were still behind your back in one of Jongho’s hands while the other slapped your ass repeatedly, making it so red that you could’ve sworn the friction was about to start a fire.

Jongho muttered profanities under his breath as he fucked you from behind again and again, his pace and strength refusing to let up. When he snaked his arm around your waist and pinched and squeezed your clit, your body couldn’t take it any longer. You buried your face into the sheets below you and screamed loudly as the pleasure overtook you once more, your fingers and toes curling as you came hard.

Your cunt clenched tightly as you creamed around your boyfriend’s cock, making the man hiss with the feeling. He let go of your wrists so he could hold onto your waist and make several more resounding snaps against your waist before releasing his load inside you again, his cock twitching wildly as ropes of cum spurt into you. And when he pulled out, he kept your ass high in the air so he could watch the mixture of his and your cum spill out of you and decorate the sheets below, your folds twitching as your high settled down.

Sticking two of his fingers inside your cunt, he curled them and collected his cum on the tips of his fingers before pulling them out. He moved you so that you were facing the camera once more, your ass planted firmly on the bed as he held you from behind. He had one hand on your breast, tenderly kneading and squishing it while he stuffed his cum-covered fingers in your mouth to give you a taste.

“Let’s get something straight,” he whispered in your ear, his lips sweeping against the edge of your ear. “At the end of the day, you’re mine.”

He removed his fingers from your mouth and turned your head so that you were looking at him, his eyes forward, locked with the camera. He maintained his eye contact with the camera as his lower lip brushed against yours, teasing you, making your body flush with warmth once again.

“Yeosang hyung can fuck you as much as he’d like, but your cunt was made for me.”

#broatz #atzhouse #cromernet #cultofdionysusnet #ateez #choi jongho #jongho smut #jongho x reader #reader x jongho #ateez jongho #choi jongho ateez #jongho ateez #choi jongho smut #ateez choi jongho

583 notes · View notes

colourstreakgryffin · 7 months

Note

Sorry if this is spoiler-ish!! ;-; But can I request a scenario where the reader, who’s married to Alastor, is having a nightmare where she loses Alastor? This can be after the battle where she almost witnessed Alastor get killed and it haunts her still. Of course with some comfort from the Radio Demon himself at the end :’3

Not spoilerish! I’ve watched the Adam V Alastor fight in full detail and I ABSOLUTELY LOVVEEE this idea! You’re a legit genius, my dear! Thank you so much! Have a wonderful day! First we had big bro Al, then Dad Al, then BF Al, then best friend Al and now, we have best one: husband Al!

Alastor- Staying Here

It’s been happening nonstop for days… days. Weeks. You can’t sleep like this. Every night, the same nightmare but formatted differently like being tortured over and over again but with a different method. It’s almost like that awful angel has re-manifested and is getting back revenge on Alastor by submitting you to night terrors that have been destroying your sleep schedule

Waking up with a nasty shrill of fear and a cold layer of sweat, your body flung upwards with your eyes shooting open after such a terrible dream, tears welling up in them… your beloved husband, Alastor, slept right next to you with his tall deer-like ears twitching. Knowing that he’s still here and not erased by the head exterminator, Adam is such a relief. Especially since that same Angel, Adam himself, is the reason you’ve been having daily nightmares about a violent and gorey erasure scenario of Alastor with Adam. Adam laughing manically, killing off your husband in the most bloody and ruthless way, wounds all over his body, the radio effects dying out…

It’s awful. You can barely sleep and it’s making you deprived of just a single good night

Sobbing under your breath, right next to your seven year husband. Alastor’s ears twitch once more but this time, as a sign to wake up as well for his peacefully unconscious brain. Yawning and stretching out with a long drawn-out radio glitch in literally no time, his broad body sitting up with you leant over and sobbing into your hands. His crimson eyes looked over to you after a bit longer of waking himself up and just like that, he went from wondering what happened to immediately concerned

“Darling… what’s wrong?”

Alastor asks soft and sweet, his radio voice overtone has completely disappeared so his own organic voice is the only thing remaining. He didn’t even get a chance to speak again since you immediately clung onto him and buried your face into his chest, sobbing and crying for him to never leave you. Alastor doesn’t know what’s wrong but he won’t just let his beloved wife suffer

You legit have to sob and hiccup through your words, telling him about every detail of your repetitive nightmares and Alastor’s body tenses up in pure disgust and malice, mainly towards the idea of being erased by Adam, the now long dead head exterminator. He wouldn’t let him put his hands on himself or you, he loves you way too much. Alastor rubs his hands through your hair, letting you cry into his chest until you finally get over it

You need to cry out your fear and feelings until you can be rational and logical to think. Get the emotions out first

Alastor silently waits for you to come back to him, gently pressing your body together with his, one hand on your back to trace through soft shapes and the other stroking gentle brushes through your hair until you can finally just melt in his embrace, calm down and feel safer with your still very alive husband. Yeah, he was quite close to being erased but he escaped and he has recovered from his injury

“My dear, my love. How long has this been going on?” The guilt to lying and not telling Alastor sooner is already eating your heart apart. You just felt too shy to even drop him a hint about your midnight distress since you always assumed he is already too busy with the Hazbin Hotel to be able to prioritise your minor problems. Your nightmare issue isn’t actually a minor problem at all, that’s what you think but Alastor can see, clear as crystal, that this constant nightmare over him thing is breaking your psyche

“S-since it happened…” Alastor’s eyes widen in shock. You’ve been dealing with nightmares on the daily for two weeks?! How did he not even notice?! God, he is so pissed off at himself and just keeps rocking you, gently laying you down and cuddling you, continuing to massaging rubs of your big menacing hands. The wedding band over his left ring finger rubs on the silky thin fabric of your pyjamas and he can feel the wedding band on your own left ring finger clinging onto him like your hands clinging on his waist

Alastor continues to speak, not remaining silent since it may end up making you believe you’re mad at him for staying silent. He isn’t as mad as his body may seem, he is just worried sick for your health and your mental health over these constant nightmares that are driving a wedge inbetween your sleep schedule. His lips drop down and kisses your forehead, keeping up the sweet, caring and loving tone

His husband tone

“Darling, dearest. I am not mad at you, just embrace me and recover. I’ll make those night terrors go away” Alastor continues to comfort you, soft, quiet and sweet. His soft peppery kisses all over your silky-skinned face, your rosy cheeks. Anything to make those streaming tears halt and your now red puffy demonic eyes. He loves you and he has been neglecting this very serious issue. It’s now his job, as your loyal longtime husband, to take care of you

How grateful you are that Alastor is always right next to you and the nightmares you deal with will never be reality. He’s safe, you’re safe and he is going to be holding your hand through your recovery process

“Would you like to go out and get some fresh air with me?”

600 notes · View notes