#i didn’t even see him get out of bed until he was directly in front of me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starryhyuck · 5 months

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against all odds. (m)

pairing: gryffindor!jaehyun x slytherin!afab!reader

words: 13.2k+

summary: jeong jaehyun has always had the biggest crush on you. that is, until he finds out you’re engaged to nakamoto yuta.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: jaehyun and reader are extremely horny, pregnancy, penetrative sex, rough sex, public sex, pussy eating, creampies, breeding kink, fingering, squirting, dick sucking, messy sex

Jaehyun feels like he’s on top of the world.

He’s managed to secure another Gryffindor win under his arm with his House praising his ability to spot the Golden Snitch so quickly. Many have speculated that Jaehyun’s the best Seeker the Gryffindor team has seen in years, and that he could easily go into the professional sport after graduating. Jaehyun tries not to let the whispers go straight to his head, even though playing Quidditch on a professional level is his ultimate dream.

The Gryffindor afterparties have gradually become more hectic as the season passes. The party planning committee has been attempting to outdo themselves every time the team bags another victory. The current one is surrounded by a monstrous amount of Firewhisky and dizzy students dressed head to toe in red and gold.

Jaehyun thinks he’s about to turn in for the night until he spots you.

It’s very unusual to see the Slytherin queen casually lounging around in the lion’s den, but you manage to blend in effortlessly. You’re giggling into Jihyo’s ear, prodding the Quidditch captain to take another sip of her drink.

Jaehyun’s always harbored a small crush on you ever since his first year at Hogwarts, but considering you were sorted into separate houses, he never got to spend much time with you. Once Jihyo spots him, however, he doesn’t have much time to flee.

“Jaehyun!”

She grabs his elbow and pulls him forward until he’s standing directly in front of you. Your eyes lock with his, and his heart beats so loudly that he’s sure you can hear it.

“This is our star player,” Jihyo says, stumbling a bit over her words. “He’s the greatest Gryffindor has ever seen!”

“Jihyo,” he grumbles in embarrassment, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

“Nice to meet you, Jaehyun,” you smile, extending your hand out. He awkwardly shakes it, trying not to focus on the fact that his palms are abnormally sweaty. You don’t seem to mind, taking another sip of your drink. “Does your captain here always follow the rules?”

“Annoyingly so,” he chuckles, familiar with Jihyo’s inability to relax most of the time.

As the captain of the most talked about Quidditch team of the decade, Jihyo didn’t have blocks of time in her schedule for fun. She was always planning the best strategy for the next match or conspiring with the team to see what tricks their opponents would pull. Jaehyun notes how you encourage Jihyo to take the edge off by pouring more Firewhisky into her glass.

“No no no,” Jihyo sighs, pushing you away. “I can’t keep drinking. The Quidditch Cup is still at play.”

“Please,” you roll your eyes. “If Jaehyun’s as good as you say he is, then it’s not something you should worry about.”

Jaehyun knows his ears are probably burning bright red by now. Your smile has to be the prettiest sight he’s ever seen, and he secretly wishes he could use a Time Turner to ask the Sorting Hat to place him in Slytherin instead.

“If you pour me another glass, I’ll expose your Slytherin ass right here, right now!”

You simply smirk at Jihyo’s empty threat. “Go ahead. I’m sure the lions would love to devour the head snake.”

There’s no way Jaehyun’s getting turned on right now. Not in the middle of this celebration party, where most of his friends can visibly see him. He abruptly coughs and adjusts the growing tent in his pants.

“I should go to bed,” he says awkwardly. “I’ll see you both later?”

Jihyo beams. “See? What a good Quidditch player! I’m going to bed too!”

“Not so fast,” you laugh, pulling her back. You throw Jaehyun one last look. “See you around, Jae.”

Jaehyun would never admit to anyone that he cast a silencing charm around himself that night to muffle his growing moans. He would never admit that he imagined you on your knees for him, your pretty eyes fluttering as you took him in your mouth. He would never admit he wanted to tangle his fingers through your hair as he pinned you down and fucked you until you cried.

No, this was something he had to carry to his grave.

—

“Today, we’ll be discussing the strongest love potion in the world, Amortentia.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, nudging Jaehyun’s side. “Here we go again,” Johnny whispers gruffly.

Amortentia was an assignment they covered last year, sending most of the classroom hormones ablaze as people tried to convince each other they smelled them in their potion. Johnny and Jaehyun received the brunt end of it, with love letters greeting them at breakfast nearly everyday.

A hand shoots up in the air. “Professor, we covered this topic already,” Mingyu complains. Jaehyun recalls Mingyu also received his fair share of letters the previous year.

“Good recall, Mingyu. However, we’ve never done a project with Amortentia that supports interhouse unity.”

Johnny coughs next to Jaehyun. “This has to be a joke.”

The professor claps his hands and grins, confirming Jaehyun’s worst fear. “Please find your partner for this assignment! The only requirement is that it has to be someone from a different house.”

“I’m grabbing Doyoung,” Johnny hisses before he vanishes from Jaehyun’s side.

Jaehyun’s mind works a little slower, trying to think about who he can partner up with before he feels someone poke his shoulder. He turns to see you behind him, your smile once again making his heart beat out of his chest. You take Johnny’s place and set your books down next to his.

“Nice to see you again, partner.”

“You want to be partners?” Jaehyun stutters.

You giggle. “Why? Is the star player taken already?”

“No! No, definitely not,” he says, wincing at how loud his voice rises.

You just laugh at him. “Good. I heard you’re just as good in your studies as you are on the field.”

Jaehyun opens his mouth to respond, thinking about other ways he can impress you off the field, but the professor claps his hands again.

“Wonderful! Looks like you all have found a partner. The assignment until the end of the term is to brew a batch of Amortentia and document what you smell at the end of each week.”

Doyoung raises his hand with a bored expression. “Professor, what we smell in the Amortentia potion is meant to reflect what we find the most attractive. I don’t believe this changes weekly.”

“I beg to differ! As you all are growing young adults, your taste and interests do, in fact, change everyday! I want to highlight this unique fact about students your age with this assignment.”

The professor dismisses the rumble of arguments that grow throughout the room, offering more details about the project before class ends. Once he’s finished talking, your head turns to face Jaehyun.

“How about we meet up later tonight and brew the first batch?”

“Y-Yeah! After Quidditch practice?”

You grin, gathering your books and standing. “See you there.”

Jaehyun’s eyes linger on the sway of your hips as you walk away. He’s totally fucked.

—

Jaehyun knows he’s terribly distracted at Quidditch practice.

Jihyo is reprimanding him for his carelessness as the Snitch zooms past him and he doesn’t even attempt to grab it. He takes all of her constructive criticism to heart, fingers gripping his broom tightly as he tries to focus.

His mind betrays him, nonetheless, wandering to the idea of you studying in the library. He imagines your knee high socks clinging to your skin, the bottom of your skirt barely covering the tops of your thighs. He wonders how high your skirt will rise if he asks you to grab him a book from the top shelf. Maybe your panties will peek out, showing him an eyeful of-

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you today?” Jaehyun blinks, returning to reality. Johnny’s floating in front of him, eyebrows raised. “You missed the Snitch again. You’re lucky Jihyo didn’t see it.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “Sorry. I’m just all over the place today.”

Johnny leans forward, eyes narrowing at him. Jaehyun would normally be disturbed if this was anyone else, but he recognizes that look on Johnny’s face. Almost as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

Johnny stares at him for a few more seconds before he starts laughing, clutching his stomach and almost falling off his broom.

“What?” Jaehyun frowns, not understanding the joke.

Johnny manages to calm himself down, brushing away his tears of joy.

“You’re pussydrunk!”

“What?” Jaehyun questions, eyebrows furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Johnny chuckles and calls Jihyo over.

“I know what’s wrong with Jaehyun,” Johnny says confidently.

She’s far from amused. “Well, please enlighten us. I’d love to know why my star player is playing at the worst I’ve seen in years.”

“Jaehyun’s got a little crush.”

Jihyo’s pissed-off expression turns into one of happiness when she hears Johnny’s reply, and Jaehyun’s shocked to see the captain giggling into her palm.

“No way! For who?”

“He hasn’t said.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you two are on,” Jaehyun mutters in agitation. “But I don’t have a crush. I’m just distracted, that’s all.”

Jihyo snickers. “Now I really don’t believe you. Well, make sure that whoever it is doesn’t prevent you from playing at your best this weekend. Fuck in the locker rooms beforehand for all I care.”

“That’s not-“ Jaehyun tries to argue, growing more and more red by each passing second. He fails to find a comeback and zooms away, ignoring Johnny and Jihyo’s laughter at his predicament.

—

Jaehyun has to talk himself up before entering the Potions classroom.

He knows you’re already in there, waiting for him to begin your assignment. He’s conjured up a few conversation starters that he thinks will work well with you. He probably looks like such a loser, but he genuinely hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you and it’s starting to drive him insane.

He coughs quietly before opening the door, pausing at the sight of you leaned over the cauldron, the illumination of the potion casting a glow over your face. You look up and smile, and he swears his heart stops in his chest.

“Hey, there you are,” you laugh softly. “How was Quidditch practice?”

He manages to gather himself enough to join you at the Potions table, setting his bag down. “It was alright. I was a little in my head so Jihyo was a bit displeased.”

You waved him off. “I’m sure you were fine. Jihyo just needs to relax.”

He chuckles. “That’s an understatement.”

“Well, I actually brewed the potion while I was waiting for you. All we need to do is document what we smell for today and we’ll be set.”

Jaehyun frowns. “I’m sorry you had to brew it alone. I would’ve asked Jihyo to leave early if I-“

You giggle and shake your head. “Jae, you’re completely fine. I just didn’t want to keep you too long in case you needed to rest. I can’t imagine having to juggle Quidditch with these silly assignments everyday.”

His heart warms by the fact that you’re so considerate of him, but he’s also disappointed that he has less time to spend with you. In order to avoid looking like he’s lingering too long, he thanks you and leans over the cauldron. It’s no surprise that it smells exactly like you, and the tip of his ears bloom red. He rattles off random scents and avoids your gaze.

When you lean over, there’s a small hope in his chest that he is the object of your desire. Even the faintest touch of Quidditch grass in your Amortentia potion would have him jumping for joy.

You quickly withdraw from the cauldron, almost as if you immediately recognize the scent.

He clears his throat. “What did you smell?”

You shrug. “Iris and jasmine. Typical.”

And his heart falls straight to the ground.

—

“What do I smell like?”

Johnny jolts back in his seat at the sight of his best friend frantically pushing his neck towards Johnny’s face. Doyoung is also startled by Jaehyun’s presence, gasping and placing a hand over his chest.

“Merlin, Jaehyun. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jaehyun ignores the awkward stares from his other Gryffindor housemates. He slumps down in one of the common room chairs, facing Johnny and Doyoung from their spot on the sofa.

“Do you think I smell like iris and jasmine?”

Johnny exchanges a look with Doyoung, who shrugs at Jaehyun’s unnatural behavior.

Johnny sighs. “I mean, not really. You always just kind of smell like grass and amber.”

“But do you think I could?” Jaehyun asks, eyes a little more frantic. “Do you think I could smell like iris and jasmine? Especially to someone who doesn’t know me that well?”

Doyoung leans over to whisper to Johnny, even though Jaehyun can clearly still hear him.

“I think this is about the Amortentia assignment.”

Johnny’s eyes light up. “Oh, so this is about that girl you’re pussydrunk for!”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen at the volume of Johnny’s voice. He throws himself across the room to cover his best friend’s mouth.

Johnny just laughs and pries him off. “Listen, dude, I get you’re pussydrunk right now but this stupid assignment is the last thing you need to worry about. We have the qualifier game against Slytherin tomorrow, remember?”

And Jaehyun knows Johnny’s right. He tries not to think about you for the rest of the day and puts Quidditch at the forefront in his mind.

Jihyo holds a mandatory practice that night to run over the key plays, and it takes everything in Jaehyun to stop thinking about what you would look like in Gryffindor colors, cheering him on in the stands.

On the day of the match, he throws himself into the sport that he knows best. He doesn’t falter at the sight of the Slytherin seeker, Nakamoto Yuta, who mindlessly chews his gum on the field before the game starts. Yuta’s known for his carefree attitude, contrasting his sharp flying abilities and quick wit.

He smirks at the sight of Jaehyun, tilting his head slightly to challenge him. Jaehyun narrows his eyes and maintains his focus, immediately taking off once the whistle is blown to signal the start of the game.

The match is high with exhilaration from the two rival teams, with Gryffindor and Slytherin battling it out like no other. Jaehyun knows he and Yuta have to be the tie-breaker since the points from both sides aren’t adding up as quickly as anticipated, and he can see Jihyo’s frustration from across the field.

It’s an hour into the game when Jaehyun sees the fluttering wings.

He doesn’t hesitate, taking off and chasing the Snitch. Yuta spots it at the same exact time and quickly follows. The two are neck and neck until Jaehyun’s hand stretches a little farther than Yuta’s, securing the Snitch in his hand and effectively ending the game.

“Yes! Another game ending win from Jeong Jaehyun! Gryffindor advances to the finals of the Quidditch Cup!”

The audience breaks out in applause and cheers, and Jaehyun finally allows himself to take it in. Just like with every other game, Johnny rushes over to wrap him in a hug once they’re on the ground.

“That’s my boy! Only Jeong Jaehyun can do that!”

Jaehyun laughs when the whole team joins in on the hug, wrapping arms around one another in a sweaty pile of victory.

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”

The stadium chants loudly and Jaehyun feels happiness spread all the way down to his toes. He chuckles when Jihyo embraces him, almost crying herself.

The team gets cleaned up in the locker rooms before heading out to celebrate their win. Jaehyun’s surprised to see a few Slytherins lingering around, and even more surprised when one of them happens to be you.

Was it possible that you were waiting for him? That would be ridiculous, right?

And just as he’s about to call out your name to confirm his suspicion, he stops in his tracks when Yuta approaches you. Freshly showered, Yuta swings an arm around your shoulder effortlessly.

Jaehyun’s heart stops in his chest.

Yuta spots him out of the corner of his eye and whispers something in your ear. Jaehyun feels frozen on the spot when the two of you grow closer and closer to him.

“Jeong, nice game out there. I guess it’s true when they say you’re the best Seeker in our year,” Yuta compliments, lips still twisted in a smirk.

Jaehyun’s eyes are hyper focused on Yuta’s arm dangling from your shoulder while you look like the picture perfect girlfriend.

You smile at him, not sensing his discomfort. “Yeah, great game, Jae. Gryffindor’s star player indeed.”

Yuta laughs and hums in agreement. Jaehyun can’t find any words to say, almost like they’re lodged in the middle of his throat, so he nods instead.

“Well, we won’t ruin your victory party,” Yuta winks, arm moving downwards to wrap around your waist. “See you around.”

You smile at him again as you and Yuta begin walking back to the castle. “Bye, Jae.”

Jaehyun remains rooted in his spot, heart breaking into a million little pieces.

The scent of iris and jasmine overwhelms him.

—

“Why didn’t you tell me she was with Yuta?”

“I didn’t know she was the one you were pussydrunk for!”

Jaehyun groans, collapsing in one of the big chairs in the Gryffindor common room. He roughly runs his fingers through his hair as Johnny stares at him worriedly.

After finally coming to his senses, Jaehyun had managed to locate his best friend and confront him about his knowledge of you and Yuta.

“And technically, they’re not actually together,” Johnny corrects, trying to mend Jaehyun’s heartbreak. “Their families are the old Slytherin type so they’ve been engaged since birth. I don’t think they’re willingly dating.”

“She smelled him,” Jaehyun whispers, wringing his hands together. “In her Amortentia potion. That’s why I was asking you and Doyoung what I smell like.”

Johnny winces. “Maybe you brewed the potion wrong?”

Jaehyun curses. Of course this had to happen to him. The one person he genuinely has feelings for, a person he will desperately beg for attention, is not only taken, but engaged to someone else.

Just his luck.

“How am I supposed to keep doing this project with her?” He mutters roughly to Johnny, like taking out his anger on the tall Gryffindor will help his situation. “She’s going to keep smelling Yuta every week and I know all I’ll smell is her.”

Johnny can sense his friend is mentally combusting and tries his best to help.

“Rumor is that they don’t romantically like one another. It’s more of a mutual transaction — if they don’t end up with each other, they’ll have to get married to a random stranger. Listen, you can win her over with that Jeong charm, I know you can. The whole arranged marriage tradition can’t keep lasting for generations. Someone has to break it, and maybe this is the time.”

“And the chances of her actually leaving him?”

The look on his friend’s face tells Jaehyun everything he needs to know.

Maybe this is a sign that he should move on. He’s had a crush on you for long enough, and it clearly will never go anywhere beyond his imagination. He knows that he shouldn’t bring it up or even mention his discovery of it, but the next time he meets you for the project, he can’t help himself. The sight of you looking so fucking breathtaking while you carefully mix peppermint flower is enough for his common sense to switch off.

“Are you engaged to Yuta?”

You pause at the question, an eyebrow raised at him in confusion. He doesn’t blame you since the past twenty minutes of brewing the potion have been spent in complete silence before his inquiry.

“Um, yeah, I am. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” he murmurs under his breath. “When will you get married?”

“It’s customary to marry immediately after schooling. Our parents have been planning it since before we were born,” you share, sounding like you’ve already explained this thousands of times.

He coughs awkwardly. “Sorry for the interrogation, I’m not very familiar with Slytherin customs.”

“It’s okay,” you smile assuredly as you drop the peppermint flowers into the cauldron. “Many other houses are usually curious about our situation. I never realized how abnormal it looks from the outside until I came to Hogwarts.”

“You should get a choice, you know,” he replies, chewing his bottom lip nervously. “A choice to choose who you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

If you sense any underlying intentions in Jaehyun’s statement, you don’t show it. Instead, you plaster on another perfect smile and he realizes how rehearsed it looks.

“Yuta is my best friend. Even though we didn’t choose each other, it’s not a bad thing to end up with someone you can trust. If anything, it’s a wonderful gift.”

The words don’t even sound like yours. It sounds more like someone spoon fed it to you in the hopes that you would end up believing it yourself. He analyzes your body language, noticing how stiff your shoulders have become. You brush off the discomfort, focusing on stirring the Amortentia.

“Let’s finish the assignment for the week and call it a night, hm?”

He nods in agreement and leans over, not shocked in the slightest when he smells the citrus of your shampoo. He tells you the same scents as the week before, grasping at the hope that maybe you’ll smell something different.

But just like the week prior, you barely catch a whiff of the potion before you hum.

“Iris and jasmine.”

Jaehyun wishes someone would pierce his heart with the Sword of Gryffindor.

—

Jihyo furrows her eyebrows when she steps onto the field, registering the sight of her star player sulking on his broom, legs kicking the air like a small toddler having a tantrum.

She walks over to Johnny and gestures at Jaehyun’s floating figure.

“Pussy related?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Jihyo grimaces. She loves Jaehyun, she really does, but she can’t afford to have a heartbroken teenager on her team right now. The Quidditch Cup is just inches away from her fingers and if she wants to play the sport professionally after Hogwarts, she needs Jaehyun to be at the top of his game.

She takes her broom up to his brooding form. “Hey, champ. How’s it hanging?”

“Maybe I can die and reincarnate into who she wants me to be. Do you think there’s a spell for that?”

His eyes look sunken in. Jihyo sighs, placing a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

“Why don’t you take practice off today? I have no doubt you’ll bring your all to the finals but I need you to be in the right state of mind. Go fix your pussy problem and come back when you’re ready.”

Jaehyun leaves Quidditch practice with his tail tucked between his legs. He changes in the locker room, swapping out his uniform for his regular clothes, and heads back to the castle.

He thinks about you the whole way, wondering how he should move on. Should he play his part as a miserable bystander and watch you marry Yuta? It’s been your fate since before you were born, and who is he to come in and change it anyways?

His swirling thoughts are interrupted by a high-pitched giggle. Just as he turns the corner down the hallway leading to the Gryffindor dorms, he pauses when he catches a glimpse at the current thorn in his side.

Yuta has Seo Soojin cornered against a wall, lips brushing against her ear as his hand roughly grips her thigh to hook it around his hip. She’s laughing at whatever he says, fingers bunched up at his shoulders. Jaehyun stills when Yuta leans forward and captures her mouth with his. The two pay no mind that they are clearly in a hallway and can get caught at any time, whether it be by a classmate or teacher.

The only part that Jaehyun can focus on is the delirious rage taking over him.

How dare Yuta do this to you! He has the opportunity to be with you, to give you all the love that Jaehyun so desperately wants, yet he’s here making out with another girl.

His feet act before his mind does. His brain doesn’t completely register what he’s doing as he breezes past Yuta and Soojin, heading for the Great Hall with blazing fury. His eyes spot you as soon as the doors fling open, chatting with some of your friends at the Slytherin table.

You’re startled when you hear his voice behind you.

“Can I talk to you?”

The table falls silent at the sight of the Gryffindor prince confronting the Slytherin princess. Your classmates throw you confused glances and you offer them a smile of assurance in return. You excuse yourself and follow Jaehyun outside, where he pulls you to a nearby corner.

“Go out with me,” he starts, his body inches from yours. “This weekend at Hogsmeade. We can get sweets before it gets colder and have a few Butterbeers together.”

You blink at him, silent for a few moments before you carefully respond.

“Jae, I’m flattered by all means. You’re such a sweet guy but you know Yuta and I-“

“I just saw him making out with Soojin!”

You don’t look phased at all by the outburst. “Soojin and him are very close partners,” you say calmly. “We have a mutual understanding.”

He frowns. How could you have no reaction to your future husband kissing someone else?

You read the bewilderment on his face. “I told you Yuta’s my best friend. We’ve never had romantic feelings for one another. He’s free to be with as many people as he wants before we marry, it’s not an issue with me.”

“But what about you?”

Rejecting Jaehyun is like kicking a sick puppy. He was so unbelievably cute and hot at the same time, and you would be dumb not to notice how he stares at you like you invented magic.

However, you know how this story will tragically end and you don’t want Jaehyun to experience that fate.

“Jae, no matter what, I’m still marrying Yuta after leaving. The amount of flings he or I have is inconsequential, we’re going to end up together anyways. Nevertheless, the people who develop feelings for us will get hurt along the way. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

He feels more vulnerable than he ever has before, but he pushes through the discomfort of your possible dismissal.

“I don’t care if I get hurt. I mean, fuck it, my heart already broke in half when I found out you were engaged,” he sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “I just want one day with you. It’s completely selfish but I want to spend time with you — no assignment, no Quidditch, no Yuta. I know it’s not going to change anything but is it so pathetic of me to act on my desire before your fate is officially sealed?”

Your heart swells. You’ve never had anyone fight for you like this before. Normally, you had to witness a handful of girls bawl their eyes out after Yuta ends their situationship. You’ve always avoided being in the spot you’re in now, with someone’s heart in your hands and their hopes and dreams contingent on yours.

You exhale. “Fine, just one day. Pick me up at the Slytherin dorms on Saturday.”

—

You slowly talk yourself down when Saturday rolls around. As eager as you are, you couldn’t show it to Jaehyun. You didn’t want him to keep hanging on to this last shred of hope that you would end up together.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, wondering if you look too dressed up for a day in Hogsmeade. An emerald green dress hugs your figure — a present from Yuta’s parents three years ago. You’ve grown a little since receiving it, so now the hem barely covers your thighs.

You give yourself a twirl, hoping it’s not too short for Jaehyun’s liking.

“Why are you taking so long? I’ve been waiting downstairs forever.”

You turn at the sound of the familiar voice and find Yuta standing at your doorway, eyebrows raised at the sight of you.

“Woah, you look nice. Feeling good today?” He asks.

“I actually promised to go to Hogsmeade with a friend today,” you say casually, hoping Yuta doesn’t prod too much. “Sorry I forgot to tell you.”

“Do I know this friend?”

“No, he’s in Gryffindor. I know you’re a Slytherin only club.”

“Oh, so it’s a he?”

You sigh. “It’s just a Hogsmeade outing, Yuta. You have nothing to worry about.”

He hums noncommittally and you know it’s his way of saying that this was a bad idea. Yuta’s possessive over you, but only because he knows if your lives do not go the way your parents have planned it, you both would be completely disowned from your families.

He takes a seat on your bed and gives you a look. “I heard Jeong Jaehyun’s been asking around about you.”

You shrug. “We’re partners in Potions.”

He doesn’t buy your half-assed explanation and you know it. As much as you could see right through Yuta, he could see right through you.

“I’ve never had an issue with Soojin,” you point out, hoping to end his line of questioning.

“Yes, and that’s because I’ve always drawn clear boundaries with her. She knows we’re a temporary item. Can you say the same for Jaehyun?”

“Yuta,” you beg, throwing him a defeated glance. “Please drop this.”

He purses his lips, pausing for a few moments before nodding. He leaves you to finish getting ready, mind swirling with a million thoughts. Since he’s known you, you’ve never given him a reason to believe you’re unhappy with your engagement. Raised traditionally, you were the type to never question what your parents decided for you. Yuta was always the more rebellious one in your relationship and you never cared what he did.

Although sometimes, Yuta wishes that you would show a tiny ounce of concern.

When he steps out of the Slytherin common room, he locks eyes with none other than Jeong Jaehyun. The Gryffindor freezes at the sight of him and Yuta smirks.

“She’s almost finished, if you’ve been waiting long,” Yuta says, eyes testing Jaehyun’s.

The Gryffindor smiles but Yuta can tell it’s forced. “That’s fine, I don’t mind being out here.”

Yuta nods. “You know, we usually go to Hogsmeade together. Every weekend we can.”

“Oh?” Jaehyun swallows, intimidated by Yuta’s glare. “I didn’t know. We’re partners in Potions so I just wanted to spend some time together outside of the classroom.”

“I’m sure you do,” Yuta smiles knowingly, sending a shiver down Jaehyun’s spine. “I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

Jaehyun watches Yuta’s figure disappear down the hallway, and he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Ready to go?”

He nearly jumps five feet in the air when you approach him. You giggle into your hand at the sight of him looking so startled.

“What’s wrong? See a ghost down in the Slytherin dungeons?” You tease, eyes sparkling.

Jaehyun straightens himself before scoffing. “No, I just got so tired waiting out here for you.”

You smile at his flustered state and bump his hip with yours. “Let’s get going then. Wouldn’t want Gryffindor’s star player to die from waiting too long.”

He mutters quietly to himself when you start walking.

“If only you knew.”

The trek to Hogsmeade is filled with tentative smiles and shy gazes. Jaehyun has been stressing out all week on how to make this trip a life changing one for you. He somehow has to convince you that being chained to Yuta for the rest of your life is a living nightmare, and that you should be with Jaehyun instead.

The task feels too demanding, so he starts off simple.

“You look really pretty.”

You flush at the compliment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He grins, dimples peeking out. You observe as he shrugs off his jacket in favor of placing it on your shoulders to protect you from the incoming wind. A few Hufflepuff girls pass, whispering to one another. You catch the tail-end of their questioning.

“Did they break off their engagement?”

“That’s impossible, there’s no way their parents would allow it.”

Jaehyun hears their gossip as well, not hesitating to throw them a heated glare. They scurry away from the both of you. You soothe him by setting your hand on his upper arm.

“It’s okay, Jae. Don’t worry about them.”

You make your way to Honeydukes, which is bustling with students trying to buy holiday gifts for their friends and family. You’re scanning the shelves of Chocolate Frogs when you feel Jaehyun’s presence inch closer to your back. A hand suddenly slinks around your waist, and you jolt at the contact.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun’s apology is spoken quietly in your ear. You shudder at the sudden proximity. “There’s so many people here.”

Although that may be true, you know the nearest person to you is at least six feet away, giving Jaehyun plenty of space. You indulge his lie, however, mainly for your own personal interest.

“That’s okay,” you reply quietly. “I don’t mind.”

The sexual tension from that point on increases tenfold. You’ve never been a very intimate person, especially considering you know where you’ll be at the end of your Hogwarts journey. There have been a few affairs here and there, but never someone you find yourself captivated by.

And fuck it if Jaehyun isn’t only captivating, but causes your panties to grow wetter and wetter in the winter breeze.

He somehow finds a reason to always be near you — “there’s so many people around,” “want to make sure you don’t trip and fall,” “think I saw some guy staring at your legs too long,” — you name it. You entertain him every single time, allowing his hand to secure its place on your hip and the warmth of his chest to be pressed against your back. You can’t recall what you even bought at Honeydukes or Zonko’s because Jaehyun’s thumb stroking your collarbone sent you into a frenzy.

As he escorts you into the Three Broomsticks, he mumbles a comment that nearly makes you moan. Out loud.

“Your dress would look even better if it was in red, don’t you think?”

You’d like to say you’ve never developed an affinity for the Slytherin house colors, but by your second year, your wardrobe had been filled with varying shades of green. The thought of donning red just for Jaehyun supplied your body with a warmth that was unexpected during this time of year.

He orders two Butterbeers, smirking the whole way while throwing side glances at you.

He planned to make this an incredibly difficult trip for you.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asks when the server leaves.

You’re seated in one of the booths in the corner, away from prying eyes. You nod at him, heart accelerating when he takes the opportunity to scoot closer to you until your thigh is touching his.

“This marriage contract — tell me what it entails.”

“Well, the terms are pretty simple. After graduating, Yuta and I will have a traditional wedding for friends and family to witness. We vow to spend the rest of our lives together in the hopes of producing children who also carry magical blood. Its purpose is to hopefully extend our bloodline for generations to come.”

The explanation of your relationship with Yuta has been memorized by now, but Jaehyun doesn’t look like he’s appeased by your answer.

“And what about those flings you were referring to? You said you have a mutual understanding of Yuta and Soojin. What about when it comes to you?”

You stutter. “W-What do you mean?”

He leans closer, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. His hand rests on your inner thigh, and you fear he’ll find evidence of your arousal dripping on the hardwood.

“If you were to have a little fun for yourself, would Yuta mutually understand? Even if it’s, per se, done in the public eye?”

You’re hyper aware of his fingers moving higher and higher. You’re about to beg for him to touch you when two glasses of Butterbeer slam down on the table, causing you to nearly jump out of your seat.

Your waitress, Suyeon, seems unfazed by your blatant public indecency.

“Two Butterbeers for the table,” she recites in a bored tone before quickly leaving.

You grab the handle of the glass and down your Butterbeer in one go. You wipe the remnants of the drink from the corner of your lips and glance over at Jaehyun, who is wearing an amused expression.

“That thirsty?”

“A little,” you reply nervously. You suddenly feel like your body is not your own, because there’s no way you’re dripping in a public setting right now.

Jaehyun doesn’t skip a beat, pushing your drink aside and cupping the back of your neck, pulling you to him. You gasp when you’re merely inches away from his face. You stare at each other for a good amount of time before you close the gap, sealing your mouth with his.

The kiss is hungry, and you feel like a rabid animal Jaehyun needs to tame. Your hand grabs his and forcefully moves it to cup your clothed cunt. He groans into your mouth, pulling away briefly to cast a silencing charm on your booth.

“You can be as loud as you want, but remember there’s people watching,” he murmurs, and your eyes dart around the pub.

There are some students gathered but it’s not as full as it usually is during this time. Most people aren’t even paying attention to the two of you secluded in your corner. However, at any point, you know they could look over and see Jaehyun fingering you in public.

And at a school sponsored outing, no less.

You throw all your dignity out the window regardless. “I’ll be good,” you promise breathily to him. “Just touch me, please.”

His fingers curl at the fabric of your underwear and you whine loudly, gripping the end of the table like it’s going to save you. His head is angled purposefully to make it seem like he’s just whispering in your ear to any onlooker, attempting to shield what he’s doing to you under the table. You try your best to control your facial expressions so that you don’t end up on some wizarding porn site.

He pushes your panties aside to play with your folds and you hear him chuckle.

“So wet already? I’ve barely even touched you.”

When two fingers slide inside your cunt, you whimper when you hear the squelch, leaking onto his palm. He curses to himself, stretching his digits as far as they can go in your tiny pussy.

“You’re making it so hard for me not to fuck you senseless right now.”

His confessions are driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. You’re thankful he cast a silencing charm because you could hear the gush of your pussy every time his fingers push in and out of your messy hole.

You don’t know if it’s because of Jaehyun or the fact that you’re in a public area or a combination of both, but this climax feels a lot different than the ones you’re used to. He picks up on the signs of your impending orgasm and swiftly casts a Disillusionment charm, temporarily making you both invisible.

“Wait-“ you say, gasping for breath. “I feel weird, Jae. This is different.”

“It’s okay,” he assures you, adding another finger for good measure. “I’m right here, just let go, baby.”

His thumb circling your clit is what drives you over the edge. You squirt everywhere, your orgasm painting the table and the floor. He groans into your ear, moving his fingers faster and faster while you ride out your high.

You can barely register the sweet nothings he continues to mumble.

“Such a good pussy for me. All mine. So fucking pretty when you squirt for me, baby. And doing it in public? Filthy girl.”

You push him away when the overstimulation becomes too much. Your chest is heaving and you feel completely spent, trying to catch your breath.

“I’m going to get some towels and clean us up before the spell wears off,” he says to you, even though you barely comprehend it. “Stay here, baby.”

You come to when Jaehyun returns with a handful of towels, wiping the inside of your thighs and clearing the table. The spell wears off shortly after, and you do your best to make yourself appear presentable and not like you just got finger fucked at the Three Broomsticks.

When Jaehyun finishes cleaning up, he brings your mouth to his again. You could stay like this for hours with him, and you’re about to ask him if you can suck him off before the sound of slow clapping interrupts you.

You yelp when you hear it, disconnecting yourself from Jaehyun.

Yuta stands in front of the both of you, eyes narrowed. “Get up,” he demands. “We’re heading back to the castle.”

Your lips twist angrily. “You have no right-“

“Don’t even start with that,” he hisses, slamming one hand on the table. “I can’t believe what you just did in front of everyone.”

You rise to your feet so that you’re on the same level as him. “Are you kidding me?” You say in frustration. “You make out with Soojin on the daily!”

“But I’ve never finger fucked her in a pub! Especially not when I know my father’s friends frequent the area.”

You ball your hands at your side, knowing he’s won the logical part of this argument. He throws you another stern look before leaving, expecting you to follow shortly.

You step over to Jaehyun, who was watching your argument unfold with a defeated expression. You press your lips to his again and sigh.

“Meet me in the library tomorrow night, okay? I’m sorry about him.”

He nods in understanding and you smile at him, giving him one last kiss before you depart. Once you encounter Yuta outside, he rolls his eyes at you and shoves a pair of gloves to your chest to keep your hands warm.

You both angrily stomp together back to the castle.

“You had no right.”

He scoffs. “I had no right? You were the one exposing yourself in front of almost all of Hogwarts. You’re lucky I was there to shoo off any unwanted glances.”

“Yes, I’m so lucky you came in and stopped me from having a good time,” you hiss, rage fueling at the pit of your stomach.

“You know if you were caught we would have our heads served on a silver platter to them,” he bites back at you, and you know he’s alluding to the wrath of your parents. “And I’m trying to save you from breaking that poor guy’s heart.”

You shake your head. “I already told Jaehyun about us. He knows it won’t go anywhere.”

“Do you think that will actually stop him? He was throwing fucking heart eyes at you whenever you weren’t looking.” He turns and stops you when you’re almost back at the Hogwarts entrance. “Listen, you know I’m not trying to be an asshole. With all things considered, we have to marry next summer even though the both of us don’t particularly want to. Developing feelings for him is only going to make it harder when we leave.”

You ignore the tears swelling in your eyes, burning from the harsh temperature.

“I told you that he knows. It’s not going anywhere.”

He doesn’t buy your reasoning and you both know it.

“You better hope it’s not. For both of our sakes.”

—

Jaehyun can feel your hands roaming the expanse of his body. He hears your voice whispering in his ear, teasing him.

“Want to suck you dry.” You’re smiling, lips tracing the shell of his ear. Your fingers are dancing on his chest, slowly moving downwards. “Maybe I’ll make a show for everyone. Make them see I’m yours.”

“Even Yuta?” He groans, unable to stop himself from asking.

“Especially Yuta.”

Your hand grips the base of his cock, pumping him slowly. Your thumb teases the tip and you squeeze him gently. He hisses, hips thrusting upwards in an attempt to get you to move faster.

You laugh and the melody sounds like bliss.

“Be patient, silly.”

Jaehyun jolts out of his sleep when a pillow lands square in his face. It has to be past midnight since his room is still completely dark. Johnny hovers over his bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Dude, either cast a silencing charm or have those dreams when we’re not all in the room with you.”

Jaehyun’s ears redden and Johnny slowly crawls back into his own bed, turning on his side and falling back to sleep. Jaehyun grabs his wand and quickly draws the curtains of his four poster bed, casting a silencing charm like Johnny advised. His hands wander to the band of his sweatpants, and he’s embarrassed to admit he’s already rock hard just from a vision of you.

He wraps a hand around himself, closing his eyes and imagining you on your knees, waiting for him. You’re wrapped in Gryffindor red as his present, the lace hugging your body in all the right places. You smell exactly like his Amortentia potion while your lips wrap slowly around his cock. Jaehyun guides you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and easing you down until his tip hits the back of your throat. He moans louder at the thought, moving his hand faster up and down his length. He wonders what you’ll look like when he cums — if your mouth will be wide open, waiting for his release, or if you’ll close your eyes, allowing him to paint your face as he pleases.

It’s the thought of you licking him clean that drives him over the edge. His eyes roll back as ropes of white cover his stomach, and he rides his high until the oversensitivity becomes too much.

As he regains his breath, the conscious part of him starts to nag in his ear. He shuts his eyes tightly, pushing away the picture of you in white, walking down to the end of an aisle to meet Yuta.

—

“I thought you were meeting the Slytherin queen?”

Jaehyun sighs, pushing the palm of his hands against his eyes. “I can’t. I saw her at the table and-“

A few moments pass in silence and Johnny raises an eyebrow.

“And?”

“And I wanted to bend her over it.”

Johnny whistles. “It’s getting real bad for you, huh?”

“Johnny, I can’t keep doing this.”

He’s not looking, but he knows Johnny’s rolling his eyes. “Listen, horndog. Just go over there, have a nice talk with her, and then go back to bed and beat it to your heart’s desire.”

Jaehyun approaches you carefully. You’re sitting at a table near the back of the library, reading over the next assignment for your History of Magic class. He takes a deep breath before pulling out the chair across from you and taking a seat.

“Hi,” you brighten up when you see him, closing your History of Magic textbook and pushing it to the side.

“Hey,” he says, the corner of his lips turning up at the sight of your smile.

He’s down so bad for you.

“Sorry about yesterday,” you apologize. “I didn’t know Yuta would be there.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, not detailing how he went back to his dorm that night and had wet dreams about you sucking him off. “He was right, we should have been more careful.”

You nod, chewing on your lower lip nervously. Jaehyun imagines slipping his thumb between your lips, watching as you wrap your mouth around it while innocently staring up at him. He wonders how messy you would be with drool pooling out of your mouth and teary eyes begging for him to go deeper.

“Jae?”

He shakes himself out of his trance and you giggle to yourself.

“We can’t. Not here. They put a sex ban charm on the library after the incident last year, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” he says sheepishly, embarrassed to be caught by you.

Last year, two students got a little handsy against one of the shelves and traumatized a bunch of first year students trying to locate a book for their first Charms class. Since then, any student who tries anything beyond kissing in the library is immediately sentenced to a week of cleaning up the Potions classroom.

“I wasn’t trying to initiate anything,” he promises. “Sometimes, I just can’t control myself when I’m with you.”

You flush, smiling to yourself at his honesty.

“Well, it’s been another week so we should check on our Amortentia assignment. I think the Potions room is empty by this time of night.”

That’s how you end up with Jaehyun’s cock in your mouth as he’s propped up against one of the Potions tables, hand tangled in your hair. He moans loudly when you take him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Shit, baby. You have no idea how many times I dreamt of seeing you like this.”

Jaehyun’s definitely bigger than you’re used to, but the thought of making him unravel encourages you to give him the best head of his life. Your hands find purchase on his thighs and you look up at him, catching his dark gaze.

You tap his thigh twice to give him the go ahead and he takes a firmer grip on your head before violently thrusting into your mouth. You try your best to control your gag reflex, the room being filled with garbled choking and Jaehyun’s continuous moans.

“So fucking messy,” he hisses at you. He turns even more feral when he realizes you’re fingering yourself while sucking his cock, hands disappearing underneath your skirt. “Fuck, baby. Are you playing with your cunt while you suck me off, hm? Too turned on from me using your mouth?”

You whine around him and he pulls out with a loud pop, watching you struggle to collect the drool dripping from your lips. His arms hoist you up and before you know it, his lips are on yours, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. It’s a heavy mix of tongues and moans, and he even pulls away from you just to spit in your mouth.

He pushes your back against one of the tables and grips your ankles, folding your knees to your chest. He doesn’t bother stripping you of your underwear, simply pushing it to the side and running his tip through your folds.

“Please,” you beg, voice heady and desperate. You actually think you might pass out if Jaehyun doesn’t fuck you right now.

He leans down to kiss you again, hands digging into your hips. “I’ll take care of you, baby. No need to worry. This pussy has been crying for me since yesterday, hm?”

You nod, fat tears starting to roll down your face. You can’t imagine how fucked out you look right now — folded in half and sobbing when Jaehyun’s dick isn’t even inside of you yet.

The stretch of him nearly makes you delirious. He takes his time pressing inside of you until he bottoms out, moaning into your neck when he’s in all the way.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers, and you hear the familiar squelch of your pussy welcoming his cock. “It’s so easy for me to slide in, baby.”

Eyes rolled to the back of your head, you have zero thoughts swirling in your mind at this current moment. You never knew sex could be so mind numbing but your body is completely drunk on Jaehyun. He looks breathtaking above you, pressing his body weight to yours so he can take advantage of the best angle to drill into you.

His hands frantically paw at your buttoned up uniform until he rips open your top, exposing your lacy black bra. He’s quick to pull it down, mouth attaching to your right breast.

Lewd sounds fill the air of the classroom as his balls slap against your cunt with every thrust. One hand darts down to thumb at your clit and you moan even louder.

“Can you squirt again for me, baby?” He murmurs, tongue flicking your nipple. “Want to see you make a mess.”

“I d-didn’t even k-know I could,” you whimper. “That w-was my first t-time.”

“Yeah?” He growls and rails into you faster. “No one’s ever made you feel as good as me, isn’t that right?”

You nod, more tears starting to drift down your face. Pleasure fills you until you can’t possibly take any more of it.

“Jae, I’m gonna-“

“Go ahead, baby. I’m right here.”

Your release coats his upper half and he takes his cock out to flick it against your folds, spraying your orgasm across the floor. Your thighs are trembling, throat dry from your cries. He shushes you, pressing kisses to the side of your face as you come down from your high.

“J-Jae, cum inside,” you mumble, pushing back the strands of hair covering his face.

His head darts up so fast that you’re surprised he doesn’t get whiplash.

“We didn’t cast a contraceptive charm.”

You hum, your orgasm still singing in your veins. “That’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Jaehyun swallows, pushing out of the haze of being pussydrunk to try and form a coherent thought.

“We can’t- It’s too dangerous.”

You’ll probably regret saying this later but you bring him closer to you, sucking at the shell of his ear and whispering quietly.

“They won’t let me marry Yuta if I’m pregnant with your child, isn’t that right?”

That’s all he needs to shove his cock back inside your warm cunt. “Fucking filthy girl. Gonna let me breed you? Fill your dirty pussy until it’s leaking with my cum?”

“Ungh, ungh, ungh,” you blubber at the force of his thrusts. Your second climax creeps up on you, spurred on by the thought of carrying Jaehyun’s baby.

Ropes of his cum fill you just as you come undone. Jaehyun grunts and pushes into you as deep as possible, painting your walls white.

You both lay in a heap of limbs on the Potions table, completely spent from your orgasms.

“Do you realize what we just did?” He asks when he catches his breath.

You nod, running your fingers through his hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

He gently kisses you. “We need to finish brewing our Amortentia batch.”

You laugh. “Your cum is literally dripping down my legs and you want to finish our homework?”

He smiles. “I need to see something.”

You clean yourselves up as best as you can before getting to work. You fall into a peaceful harmony adding the ingredients together, and you find your notebook once the potion is complete.

“Raspberries and parchment.”

Now that you know Jaehyun a little better, you raise an eyebrow at him. He chuckles at your questioning look.

“I was waiting for you to realize I was making up shit,” he says. He circles his arms around you, breathing in your scent. He confesses to you calmly, lips ghosting the crown of your head. “I smell the citrus of your shampoo that drives me crazy. I smell the chocolate chip cookies you and Jihyo make every Valentine’s Day. I smell the peppermint flowers you mix every time we brew this potion.”

You giggle. “How do you know about all of that?”

“I’ve dreamed of you for years, you don’t think I know the scent of your shampoo?” He chuckles. “Or how you would give me a cookie every year on my birthday, Valentine’s Day? Every time you handed it to me, I always tried to get the courage to build a conversation with you.”

You just shake your head with a grin. He patiently waits for you to lean over the cauldron, holding his breath in anticipation.

Your eyes twinkle. “It smells different.”

“Yeah?” He hums, burying his face in your shoulder. “What does it smell like?”

“Like the Quidditch pitch after a Gryffindor win,” you reply with a laugh. “The scent of amber after you shower. The cinnamon you like to put in your hot chocolate. It smells just like you.”

You squeal when he pounces on you again, kissing you with as much love and adoration that he can express.

—

A week before the holidays roll around, you gather enough courage to finally have the conversation you’ve been dreading with Yuta.

It seems like he already knows what you’re going to ask when you approach him in the Slytherin common room. He’s resting on one of the dark leather couches as Soojin sits on his lap, playing with his hair while giggling.

“Soojin, could you give me and Yuta a moment?”

You’ve never actually spoken to Soojin in all the years she’s been with Yuta, so she’s shocked to hear you addressing her formally. She offers you a timid nod before disappearing up the stairs.

Yuta has a dejected look on his face, wringing his hands around uncomfortably.

“Don’t ruin this for us,” he sighs, staring at you. “Don’t ruin this for some guy you met a month ago.”

Your eyes well up with tears. “Can you be my best friend for a second, please? Not my fiancé, not the Slytherin king. Just my best friend.”

He pauses, and you swear you could hear a pin drop from the tension. He takes a glance around the room, where a few first years are studying together and some older students are trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Everyone out. Now.”

The room is sent into a frenzy at Yuta’s stern tone, with the first years clumsily gathering their things and the older students attempting to act like they weren’t listening in. It isn’t long before it’s just the two of you, and you take a seat next to him.

“I like him, Yuta,” you admit, nails digging into the palms of your hands. “I know you’re going to say I told you so but I really like him.”

“Don’t do that,” he scolds, ripping your hands apart so that you stop injuring yourself. It was always a bad habit he tried to get you to break. He exhales before standing, starting to pace in front of you.

Yuta had seen you hanging with the Gryffindor star more lately as Jaehyun walked you to and from classes, and you both would disappear into empty classrooms almost every chance you got. He tried to brush it off to the best of his ability, but he knew he was losing you from the moment he caught you in Hogsmeade. And seeing you now, teary-eyed in front of him, confirms his suspicions.

“We’ll get shunned. Burned from the family tree,” he says, making you cry even more.

“I know, I know,” you whisper, trying to hide the croak in your voice. “Maybe they’ll let you marry Soojin — her bloodline is strong and she comes from generations of Slytherins.”

“And what about you? What do you think they’ll do to you when they find out you plan to run away with a Gryffindor?”

You swallow. “They will strip me of my birthright. I will no longer be allowed to attend any family dinners or be associated with the household name, and I’ll have to make due on my own in terms of fortune and stability. I know the protocol, Yuta.”

“And you think I’ll just let that happen to you? That I’ll leave you to die on your own when you don’t even know if there’s a future with Jaehyun?”

You fidget around in your seat, growing even more afraid to confess to Yuta about your tether to Jaehyun.

“I’ve- um, I’ve let Jae release in me multiple times now. I cast the childbearing charm every day and there’s no baby yet, but we’re hoping it will happen to us soon.”

You look up to see his reaction, and you’ve never seen him more heartbroken.

“So that’s it, then? You’ve already made the decision without me?”

“Yuta,” you plead, rising to your feet and gripping his hands. “Even if we did get married and followed everything according to plan, I don’t think I could put our children through this. I can’t stand to see them accept the same fate we did and carry it on to our grandchildren. Could you?”

He shakes his head. “Our morals are not what’s important. What’s important is the safety of the bloodline and ensuring that the future of wizardry-“

“You and I both know you don’t believe in any of that shit,” you interrupt his useless speech. “I see the way you look at Soojin. I know you won’t admit it to me but I can tell you want a different future too. Help me break this ridiculous curse together.”

He rests his forehead on yours and sighs, pulling you into his arms. You wrap your hands around his middle and cry into his shoulder.

“You know I’ll protect you no matter what it takes,” he hums, stroking your back softly. “If you want to be with him, I’m not going to stop you.”

You sniffle and hug him tighter. The pair of you stand there for a while, enjoying each other’s presence. It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to have a heart-to-heart with Yuta, and it reminds you of why you trust him.

He breaks the silence first.

“I think I know a way to make sure you don’t lose everything.”

You pull away from him, tilting your head in confusion.

“How?”

“How fast can you get pregnant?”

—

Jihyo has a huge smirk on her face when Jaehyun finally returns to Quidditch practice. He narrows his eyes at her, expecting her to be completely on edge with the Quidditch Cup finals tomorrow.

“What’s with the look?”

She smiles from ear to ear, twirling her broom in her hand like a ditzy schoolgirl.

“A little birdie told me who you’ve been so pussydrunk for.”

His head snaps to the side. “Johnny!”

The man to blame throws his hands up in the air and claims his innocence.

“Look at you, sly dog!” Jihyo giggles. “Who knew you had the hots for the Slytherin queen?”

“Can we just start practice?”

She gives him one last hip bump before calling a huddle. “My gorgeous team, I first want to tell you how proud I am of you. I’ve seen firsthand how hard each and every one of you have worked this year, despite certain personal obstacles.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes when she throws him a wink. “But our fight is not finished! The ultimate battle is against us this weekend, but I have no doubt we’ll beat all odds. So let’s give everything into this practice and pretend there are hundreds of screaming fans in those seats, waiting for you to carry us to victory! And for my lovely seventh years, don’t forget that recruiters will actually be in those stands on game day. This is our last chance to prove that we will be the greatest Quidditch players of our generation! Let’s fucking go!”

With Jihyo’s hurrah, the Gryffindor team launches into one of the most intense practice games they’ve had all year. Jaehyun finally feels like himself again, especially after you let him eat you out right before he left. His body is tingling with excitement, and it’s only thirty minutes into practice when he spots the Snitch.

He manages to catch it in a new record time for him, thrusting his balled fist in the air to signal victory. The rest of the team laughs as they descend to the ground, joining together for one more hug.

“Now, I want everyone to get a good night’s sleep tonight. Tomorrow, we will take home the victory for Gryffindor!”

Jaehyun immediately runs to find you after practice, kissing you as soon as he locates you in the Potions room. You squeak when he suddenly grabs you, embracing you in his arms.

“J-Jae-“ you try to say while he mouths at your neck. Your eyes widen when he shifts down to his knees, pulling up your skirt. “Jae, you just ate me out two hours ago.”

“Mmm, it’s been too long, baby.”

You smile and run your fingers through his tousled locks. “I need to tell you something,” you murmur, watching him pull your panties down to your ankles.

He hums and licks a stripe up your cunt, causing you to moan. You can tell he’s barely listening to you, tongue slurping at your folds.

“Jaehyun,” you say his name again, hoping it will garner some sort of attention. “I told Yuta about us.”

That makes him pause. He pulls his head out from under your skirt.

“And?”

“He has some sort of plan to help us,” you tell him, thumb swiping the corner of his lips that’s covered in your juices.

Since Jaehyun wants to actually listen to you now, he replaces his tongue with his fingers, easily sliding two into your cunt with no warning. You whine and throw your head back, his dark gaze drinking up your moans.

“What’s he going to do?”

You struggle to form a coherent sentence when his fingers curl inside of you. “I-I don’t k-know,” you stutter. “He just said I need to get pregnant.”

His fingers quickly withdraw from your pussy and you’re flipped around, hands landing on one of the desks to catch yourself. You hear the metal clink of his belt buckle and you cry when he lines himself up to your entrance, slowly pushing in.

“Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

“You didn’t give me a chance!”

He fucks you hard and rough, pulling at the strands of your hair until your scalp is burning. Your thighs ache from the force of his thrusts while Jaehyun goes wild at the sight of your creamy pussy forming a base around his cock. Your poor little cunt is begging for a break since he literally gave you three orgasms before he went to Quidditch practice.

He releases deep inside your pussy, his thick cum filling your womb.

“Always milk me dry, baby,” he says, hands moving to massage your hips.

You blink twice when you realize he’s still hard inside of you.

“Jae, those recruits will be at the Quidditch tournament tomorrow. You have to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Just a few more rounds and I’ll go to bed, baby. I promise.”

True to his word, he pounds you for another few hours before finally pulling out. You’re completely plugged full of his cum, some of it dripping out as soon as his cock leaves your pussy.

You stand with shaky legs and he pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

“Love you,” he whispers.

Jaehyun told you he loves you pretty quickly after you first got together. You insisted on him taking his time to think about it, unsure if he actually loved you or if he was just seeing you through rose-colored glasses.

Since then, he’s told you he loves you every single day. He hopes one day you’ll start believing him.

“You should get some rest. I’ll clean myself up, but you need to be prepared for tomorrow or else Jihyo will have your head.”

“Don’t be silly,” he chastises. “I’ll clean you up. Why don’t you come back with me to the Gryffindor dorms? I’ll sneak you in.”

You roll your eyes. “You just want to take me back there so we can go another round.”

He pouts. “Maybe two.”

“Jaehyun.”

“Fine,” he sighs like he’s been assigned the worst task in the world. “Let me clean you up and I’ll go to bed. One last thing though.”

He drags you to the cauldron, which is still filled with the latest Amortentia batch.

“What do you smell, baby?”

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “You know I smell you.”

He grins. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

—

You’re shaking on the morning of the Quidditch Cup tournament.

Since you started sleeping with Jaehyun, you’ve been casting a childbearing charm every morning to see if there are any signs of you being pregnant. Every time, the charm has shown you a red light over your stomach to signal that you are not with child.

This is the first day the red light has shifted to a warm orange color.

You gasp when you see it. The orange hue displays a little dot the size of a tiny bean, barely kicking in your stomach.

You stand in front of the mirror for several minutes, unable to take your eyes off of this new sign of life.

Your baby. Jaehyun’s baby.

Once you come to your senses, you hastily throw on one of Jaehyun’s spare Gryffindor jerseys and rush downstairs. You have a one track mind as you run to the Quidditch pitch, not stopping until you see the locker rooms in sight.

Jihyo is the first one to spot you, grabbing hold of your shoulders just as you’re about to enter.

“Woah, tiger! What’s got you in such a hurry?” Her mouth twists into a smirk. “In a rush to see Jaehyun?”

You huff. “I’m surprised you’re not shitting bricks right now.”

“Trust me, I am,” she sighs. “But if I think about it too much, I’ll combust in the middle of the field.”

“You’re going to do great,” you assure, embracing her. “Greatest captain Gryffindor’s ever seen.”

She exhales again as she hugs you. “I sure hope so.” You pull away and she’s back to wearing a smirk. “Now you wish our star player good luck. I’ll clear the room for you scoundrels.”

“You’re a menace.”

She does, in fact, scream at everyone to leave so that you can speak to Jaehyun. You find him in the back of the room near the showers, muttering to himself quietly.

“You got this. Just go out there and show them why you deserve to be on this team.”

You giggle into the palm of your hand. “Do you give this pep talk to yourself before every game?”

He spins around at the sound of your voice, lighting up like a Christmas tree at the sight of you. He hurries over to pull you into his arms, smacking your cheek with a big kiss.

“Hi, baby. Come to wish me good luck?”

You grin. “That, and a little something else.”

He nearly purrs. “We have five minutes if you want to go a round.”

“How are you always this horny?”

He whines into your neck. “You made me this way, baby.”

You carefully take his hand and ignore his confused gaze. You lift your Gryffindor jersey and gently place his hand on your stomach.

You wait for his brain to add two and two together, and when he finally realizes what you’re trying to tell him, his eyes well with tears.

“Are you-“

You nod, chewing on your lower lip nervously.

He kisses you hard, pulling you as close to him as he possibly can. “I love you,” he whispers. “Do you believe me now? I love you.”

You can’t wipe the smile off of your face if you try.

“I love you too. Now go win that game for us.”

You find Yuta in the stands shortly after you leave Jaehyun, hands intertwined with Soojin. He smiles at you when you approach, gesturing for you to take the seat next to him.

“Hi, you two,” you greet happily, ignoring the blatant stares from your classmates at the sight of you dressed head to toe in red and gold. Soojin is stunned by your acknowledgment, still getting used to you speaking to her.

“You’re a happy camper today,” he says amusedly, noting how your grin stays permanently etched on your face.

You lean closer and speak quietly. “I finished your first step of the plan.”

His head whips around, and he’s more shocked than you’ve ever seen him.

“You’re-“

You nod.

He laughs loudly, enveloping you in a hug.

“You’re insane. I literally told you to get pregnant yesterday.”

“I told you Jaehyun’s crazy.”

Soojin watches the exchange unfold, not wanting to pry into your personal business. She’s startled when Yuta turns back to her and brings her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently.

You’re delighted by watching them, thrilled to see Yuta letting his guard down.

Your focus shifts back to the game when the whistle is blown. You spot Jaehyun from his place high in the air, eyes darting around in an attempt to catch any glimpse of the Golden Snitch. You’re enamored by seeing him in his element, and you can’t deny he looks incredibly attractive from this angle.

Your mouth waters at the thought of swallowing his cock while he balances himself on his broom.

Maybe you were the horny one in this relationship.

Yuta would later tell you that the match was one of the best games he’s ever seen, with both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw battling it out to the death. You, however, were too focused on your Gryffindor Seeker floating higher than eye level. It wasn’t your fault he looked so pretty.

You eventually grow excited when you see Jaehyun finally zooming past you, eyes locked on the Snitch that was practically invisible to the students in the crowd. You scream when his hand tightly grasps it, ending the game and securing the Quidditch Cup win for Gryffindor.

You probably look like a lunatic in the stands, yelling and jumping for Jaehyun’s win despite being surrounded by the majority of Slytherin house, who were all rooting for Gryffindor to lose. A blushing Yuta even has to pull you down to save his embarrassment.

You push your way through the spectators to head to the pitch, body thrumming with excitement. Jaehyun opens his arms when he sees you, and you jump into them, almost knocking the both of you to the ground.

“My pretty girl,” he coos in your ear.

“You did amazing!” You praise him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He kisses you deeply, hands circled around your waist tightly. The sound of cheers and screams turn dull in your ears — the only thing you can focus on is the velvet of Jaehyun’s lips.

All you know is that you’re the happiest you’ve ever been, and you never want this feeling to slip away.

—

“There’s a clause in our contract. It’s been written up since the day we were born, and our parents signed it through an Unbreakable Vow. I’ve read that thing front and back since we turned eight years old. If there’s one piece I remember from that contract, it has a section that details what’s to happen if a pregnancy occurs.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Yuta looks smug from his spot across from you and Jaehyun, like a detective who has just cracked the case.

After Gryffindor’s win yesterday, Jaehyun was approached by a recruiter from the Montrose Magpies, offering him a full-time position as their new Seeker. You and Jaehyun celebrated with an extremely tiring night with lots of drinking, crying, and plenty of orgasms. Jihyo also cried with you, receiving her own commitment with the Holyhead Harpies.

When morning rolled around, you both decided to confront Yuta in the Great Hall about his big plan before you had to face your family for the holidays.

“A pregnancy clause? I don’t remember reading that.”

“That’s because it was always blacked out on your side of the contract,” Yuta points out. “Fucking sexists, of course, they never wanted you to find out.”

“Find out what, exactly?” Jaehyun asks, also deeply confused.

“The contract says in the event of you getting pregnant, all titles and birthrights would immediately be transferred to your heir. The part they never added in, though, was if the baby had to be mine.”

You straighten your spine. “So you’re saying-“

“I’m saying that your little bundle of joy just saved you from having to relinquish your household name. Under the Unbreakable Vow, whatever belongs to your parents has to pass on to your child, regardless of the baby having Nakamoto blood or not.”

You lock eyes with Jaehyun, both of you grinning widely.

“We get to be together,” he says incredulously, as if he can’t believe it himself.

“We get to be together,” you repeat, laughing to yourself out of pure joy.

“You get to be together,” Yuta smiles at the both of you. “And I’m not letting either of our parents take that away from you. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you, Yuta,” Jaehyun says genuinely. “We owe you our lives.”

“No need for dramatics,” Yuta waves him off. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your girlfriend standing up for herself.”

You lean over to kiss Jaehyun and Yuta scratches the back of his head awkwardly.

“Please don’t finger her in front of me again.”

You giggle and Jaehyun swings an arm over your shoulder, lips pressing against your cheek.

“Don’t worry. That view is for my eyes only now.”

The last item on your to-do list before you have to face your parents is to turn in your Amortentia assignment. You walk hand-in-hand with Jaehyun into the Potions room, ignoring the curious whispers and the one holler of encouragement from Johnny.

You stand blissfully in front of your designated cauldron, trying to push back the fact that you and Jaehyun have defiled this room more times than you can count. As the professor goes around the room to grade your projects, you clutch Jaehyun’s arm and smile up at him.

“I love you.”

He kisses your forehead, staring at you with pure devotion written in his eyes.

“I love you too, baby. Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

“Thank you for waiting for me to realize that you’re worth it.”

Your professor finally lands in front of you, beaming at the sight of your close proximity.

“Now what do we have here?” He laughs. “I guess the potion worked the best for you two. Let’s hear your progress.”

“She had a great amount of development, professor,” Jaehyun shares. “My scents have stayed the same since the first week.”

“I see,” he chuckles. “And how has that worked out?”

“You gave us a dream we didn’t think was possible,” you murmur, orbs twinkling with glee. “So it’s safe to say this assignment was a success for us.”

“That’s precisely what I wanted to hear. Well done you two, and congrats on the new coupling.”

You squeeze Jaehyun’s arm again, pulling him down once more to press your lips to his. His hand darts out to rest on your stomach, and although your child is barely the size of a pea, you hope they know that you already love them unconditionally.

A new beginning awaits you both and you’re ready to face it against all odds.

#nct smut #jaehyun #jaehyun smut

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explicit-tae · 5 months

Text

Ungodly Hour: Day 3

You’re feeling petty, so sending Jungkook nudes is how you get your revenge on him for leaving you.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.212

Warning: jungkook getting clowned, face riding, oral sex, smut, simp jungkook, dirty talking, ass slapping, shit talking reader bs that's what she does, slight sexting

You ponder what life would be like if you lived with Jungkook - the weekend is long and waking up besides the man felt nice. He cooked breakfast after allowing you to sleep in, you two eating together. You’d shower, spend the day together (sex came randomly in between) and then go to bed.

Work was a task you’d dreaded, but you’d refuse to give up so quickly, even when Jungkook agreed to your joke of quitting, stating that you could always live off of him - an agreement the man was too quick to settle for.

Even after your boring, easy job, you acted as if it was the worst day of your life. Jungkook had bought takeout to make up for it and you were content for a while.

And now, you and Jungkook are in his bathroom, you attempting to concentrate on your task. You were dressed in nothing but a black silk robe - a gift from Jungkook - the both of you fresh out of the shower. He has a match one that he tied loosely around himself.

“Is it supposed to burn?” Jungkook asks, opening one eye to look at you. He sits on his closed toilet, you directly in front of him.

“If you ask me that one more time, Jungkook, I swear-”

“You want me to fuck you so bad, Y/N.” Jungkook closes his eyes, his hands reaching out for your waist to bring you close to him.

You groan, squirming out of his reach. “We’re doing face masks.” you deadpan, your mind not comprehending how the man could be thinking about sex at a time like this. “Nothing about this is sexy, Kook.”

Jungkook scoffs - he begs to differ. There was never a moment Jungkook didn’t want you - but he was a man and maybe that was just the way his body reacts around you. He’d remain quiet, however, to make you any more irritated with him. Your irritation only fueled his sexual desire.

“‘Kay, done.” you lean back to admire your work on Jungkook’s face. Now the both of you matched - both sporting a cream colored face mask. “Our skins going to be so smooth when we’re done!” you squeal, and for a moment you’re excited - until you see the smile on Jungkook’s lips. “Ugh, didn’t mean to do that. Don’t think I like doing things like this with you.” you quickly scoff.

Jungkook cackles at your fraudulent change of tune. “You’re so down bad for me, Y/N.” Jungkook snatches your waist this time, bringing you closer to him. He then stands. “Give it a few more months, baby, and you’ll finally admit it outside of sex.”

“Fuck off.” you murmur, hands pushing Jungkook back - even if you didn’t put that much force into it because you actually did like his embrace.

Jungkook brings his face closer, the need to kiss you heavy. He doesn’t get the chance to, however, a loud banging noise sounding throughout his home. His eyebrows furrow. “Someone’s at the door.” he says aloud. “Be right back.”

You turn away from the man to clean up the mess you’ve made. As you turned on the water to clean the silicon brush, Jungkook takes it upon himself to slap your ass.

“Jung-” you swung around to snap, but Jungkook’s already out the door and down the hall, a loud trail of laughter echoing behind him.

Jungkook makes his way towards his front door, not caring about his appearance as he swings it open.

“Oop, jump scare.” Jimin walks past him, shoving three large pizzas in his arms. “Why do you never answer your phone?”

Jungkook is dumbfounded as Hoseok and Taehyung steps in, as well, and for a moment he thinks about what he’s going to say.

However, Jungkook remembers that it’s Sunday - and Sunday’s were movie nights. He swallows the lump in his throat.

He didn’t need Jimin knowing that you were here - not because Jimin hated you, it was quite the opposite. Jimin loved you (from afar) and your antics. He liked you and him together, stating that you made a good couple.

Jimin knowing that you were here meant that Jungkook forgot about the weekly movie night - and then he’d have to hear Jimin’s mouth about how “pussy was worth more than the friendship” as he liked to put it.

“I was, uh, showering.” Jungkook responds, closing the door behind Hoseok. “Where’s Joon?” he questions, as if he wasn’t the one who lost track of his days.

“Running late.” Jimin takes off his shoes and proceeds to go to the living room. “I wonder what’s new on the streaming services. Not like I’d know…” he trails off, side eyeing the younger male.

“You’ll have to get over that.” Hoseok snickers, taking his seat beside Jimin. “We all know Jungkook would find a girl that would take all his time.”

Jungkook laughs awkwardly, placing the boxes of pizza on the coffee table.

“Ah, yes.” Taehyung sits on one of the leather chairs, a boxy smirk on his lips. “So…did Y/N teach you any new tricks?”

“Or is barking all you do?” Jimin scoffs, then proceeds to go out in full laughter, followed by Hoseok and Taehyung.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. It was bad enough he had to hear it in the groupchat. This was a moment they’ll never let him live down.

“I just want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok shakes his head. “Y/N has to be doing something lethal to have you bark-”

“It was a joke.” Jungkook hisses. “Pick a movie while I take this off.” he murmurs, making his way down the hall and back towards the bathroom. Jungkook opens the door and eyes you, face mask already off. “So, we have a dilemma.” he mumbles, coming towards the sink.

“I heard Jimin.” your arms are crossed. “Is he talking shit again?”

“It’s Jimin.” Jungkook scoffs. He begins to wipe the face mask off of his skin, scrubbing aggressively. “I forgot tonight was movie night.”

“Movie night?” you furrow your brows. “But I thought you said we were continuing Law & Order?”

Jungkook sighs. He turns off the water and turns towards you. “I did,” he admits. “but we have movie nights every Sunday and…” he trails off.

“And…” you shake your head, not comprehending. Jungkook grabs a small hand towel and wipes his face “...you’re saying fuck Lieutenant Olivia Benson? Because you want to watch a lame ass movie?” you cross your arms, even if you couldn’t be upset about it. You just wanted a reason to give him shit.

Jungkook licks his lips and smirks. “You’re so jealous, baby. I knew you’d-”

“Ew. Go watch your lame movie with your lame friends.” you push him away, fighting the smile stretching on your lips when you feel his hands on your wrist. “I’ll be in the room, I guess.”

Jungkook pokes his head out the bathroom door to assure no one was looking. Then, he drags you towards his room and shuts the door. “I’ll sneak you some pizza.” he murmurs. He rushes towards his closet to change into clothes.

“I…I can’t come out?” you scoff in disbelief.

Jungkook shakes his head. “They’ve been cooking me in the groupchat and when they walked in. You walking out will only be my 13th reason.” Jungkook is dressed in under a minute, a black shirt and iron man pajama shorts. He comes towards you when he sees your wide eyed expression and wraps you in a sudden embrace, peppering your face with kisses. “I’ll let you sit on my face later.” he murmurs.

“You do that everyday.” you deadpan.

“Exactly.” Jungkook smiles. “So you’ll be okay for a few hours. I’ll try to kick them out after one movie, though.”

Again, Jungkook slaps your ass, but this time brings you in for a kiss. He’s out the door before you can say anything further. You eye his bedroom door for a moment and scoff with a shake of your head.

“Hyung, when did you get here?” Jungkook asks when he strolls through the living room to see Namjoon. “Did you find a movie yet?”

“Got here a minute ago.” Namjoon responds.

“Haven’t been on here in so long. Forgot how to work the app.” Jimin retorts.

“Eventually you’re going to have to get over it.” Jungkook makes his way towards the kitchen to grab a plate. He then walks back towards the livingroom to gather a few slices of pizza for you.

“Forget about the ultimate betrayal?” Jimin scoffs. “Never.”

“Where are you going?” Taehyung asks, eyeing Jungkook.

“I’m just saving myself some pizza.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Might be hungry in the middle of the night.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond.

Jungkook makes his way down the hall and back towards his room. “Special delivery.” he scurries in to drop the plate on his bedside table. “I can’t wait for you to sit on my face later.”

“Don’t think you getting any pussy after keeping me in this room.” you retort, not removing your eyes from the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “We’ll see about that.” He doesn’t have time for a petty argument, because that would only turn it to him fucking you into the mattress - and now, he didn’t have time for that.

“Since when do you eat in your room?” Hoseok questions as Jungkook returns, a confused look on his face. “Since I got lazy.” Jungkook responds without a second thought, sitting next to Namjoon. “What are we watching?” Jungkook is barely able to focus on the movie. He eats a couple slices of pizza, his eyes watching the movie that his mind refuses to acknowledge. He would rather be with you watching Law & Order - he knows by now you two would be cuddling. You would rub your ass against him slightly, pretending to be occupied with the show and that would be his que to-

“You don’t look interested.”

Jungkook blinks a few times and then turns to Namjoon, the source of the voice.

“Just thinking.” Jungkook shrugs.

“About Y/N?”

Jungkook cracks his neck, only snorting.

“Jimin told me you were whipped. Didn’t tell me you couldn’t go a day without thinking about her.” Namjoon teases, his dimples deepening when he smirks.

“Are you two talking about Y/N?” Jimin crosses his arms. He’s laying against the arm of the couch, his eyes piercing at Jungkook.

“I sense one sided beef.” Taehyung calls.

“Because of her,” Jimin starts, and Namjoon groans, having heard this rant time and time again. “I was removed from all the streaming services. Not just one - all.”

“I gave you several warnings.” Jungkook grumbles.

Hoseok snickers. “Like what?”

“I told him when Y/N usually watches her shows.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“You give her access to streaming services so she can watch True Crime.” Jimin deadpans, an unamused look on his face. “When you end up on one of those documentaries because she slipped something in your drink-”

Jungkook sighs, leaning back into the couch. “Can we watch the movie-”

“- and murdered you, Jungkook. I will be on there telling the audience that there was red flags.”

Jungkook’s phone vibrates in his lap. He unlocks it, your name popping up.

Y/N 🥰: does jimin want to fight me?

Jungkook smirks.

“When are you going to admit you like Y/N?” Jungkook asks as he responds to your text.

“And while we’re on the topic,” Taehyung pauses the movie. “how did you get her mother’s number?”

You were only curious in the conversation outside the bedroom once you began to hear speaking. You never turn down an episode of Law & Order, and thankfully you had. You were told by Jungkook that Jimin liked you - his words now say otherwise.

You were growing bored. The pizza was already gone and Jungkook didn’t bring you anything to drink.

But the most important thing was that you were bored - and feeling petty.

you: I miss you

You didn’t miss him - you were bored and that’s different.

You watch as Jungkook reads the text instantly and begins typing.

kookie 🍪: i miss you too 🥹😍😏

you: can’t tell

you: you’re shit talking me with your lame friends

kookie 🍪: never. I got jimin to admit that he likes you more than he admits 🤙🏻

kookie 🍪: are you hungry still?

You grunt. You couldn’t be petty with Jungkook if he was offering to feed you.

you: no

you: just bored…

You bite your lip as Jungkook types. You suddenly open the camera app and take a picture. It’s a simple picture, you smiling in the camera.

Jungkook swallows, his eyes zoning in on the picture of you. Your robe was opened slightly more and he has a peak at your breast.

“If it wasn’t for me he’d still be in the friend zone probably leasing cars for her attention.” Jimin retorts at Taehyung. Hoseok laughs at the comment.

kookie 🍪: you’re so beautiful ♥️

kookie 🍪: the robe is nice on you

kookie 🍪: i can buy you more if you’d like

You snicker at Jungkook’s response. The man didn’t know what to do now and his first option was to spend if it meant that you’d send him more pictures.

“I feel like I should be compensated for my hard work.” Jimin exclaims. “Who else can say they got Jungkook out of the friendzone?”

“They were fucking. Don’t think that’s just a friend zone.” Namjoon announces. “Raw at that.”

Y/N 😍: i seem to be the topic of conversation tonight

Y/N 😍: i wish you were as interested in me as your friends are 🤭

Jungkook glances up at his bickering friends for a moment before texting back.

kookie 🍪: im beginning to think i spoil you if you cant be without me for a few hours… 😌

You’re taken aback by the tone in the message. As if you needed him - you didn’t. You were just bored and feeling a little confrontational today.

Besides, Jungkook wasn’t going to have the last word.

“I still want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok adds. “Whatever she’s doing that has Jungkook worshiping the ground she walks on needs to be studied.”

“That or you’re just a pervert.” Taehyung shrugs.

Jungkook glances down at his phone and coughs. Eyes turn to him suddenly and Jungkook stands. “I-I’m not feeling…my stomach hurts.” he makes his way down the hall and goes to open his bedroom door.

You giggle when you hear the bedroom door twist.

You’ve locked it before sending Jungkook the picture. You were already naked, mind as well use it to your advantage.

kookie 🍪: oh

kookie: open the door

you: enjoy your movie night

You hear the door knob shuffle once more.

kookie 🍪: open the door

kookie 🍪: stop ignoring me baby

kookie 🍪: i can always break the door down

kookie 🍪 : then they’ll know you’re here

kookie 🍪: and hoseok already wants to be a fly on the wall

kookie 🍪: and i have no intentions of stopping once i have you on my tongue

You flung the door open with wide eyes. “Are you-”

Jungkook pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. “Just sit on my face.” he grumbles, hands pushing you backwards.

It doesn’t take long for your robe to be discarded on the ground. He takes in your naked sight and sighs with a shake of his head. “So needy.” he murmurs, laying down on his bed. “You missed me, huh? And it hasn’t even been a full movie length.”

“Did not.” you reject, pussy already in his face.

Jungkook clenches both of your legs. “Is that why you’re already wet?” his tongue licks your clit and hums. “It’s okay to admit you missed me, baby.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond, he’s already diving head first into your. He suckles and slurps loudly, his hands keeping you in place. This time, he doesn’t care if you preferred him to now watch - he does anyways. His eyes are intense on watching you be pleasured by him - the cute needy moans, the fucked out look on your face. He wanted to experience it all.

“Your friends are gonna know you’re gone.” you whimper as Jungkook laps his tongue slowly between your folds.

Jungkook leans back only slightly. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions.

You shake your head, and that’s all the convincing Jungkook needs. His right palm slapped your thigh. “Then I won’t. Now just ride my face until you cum.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his excessive need to make you cum.

However, you do as you’re told. Your hips buckle against his tongue, your head falling back - mainly to avoid Jungkook’s gaze. It was his favorite part, he once told you, to watch you cum.

Jungkook’s tongue feels amazing - and it’s the same tongue. It shouldn’t feel better than the last time, but somehow it does. Maybe it’s the way his hands rub along your thighs as you ride along his tongue - or maybe it’s the way he grips your breast and pinch your nipples that are an added bonus.

Jungkook’s hands never stayed in one spot. They’re soon cupping your ass to encourage you to grind against him harder - how he never suffocates is beyond you.

“O-Oh, fuck.” Jungkook hears you hiss and he squeezes your ass even harder. His own breathing increases as he watches you - he can do this for as long as you wanted. You were so beautiful when you were aroused and cumming - it’s a sight he has engraved in his mind.

“I know you’re about to cum.” Jungkook says muffledly. His head bops back and forth, in rhythm with your grinding. He also knows how you enjoy the way he touches you, your ass being your favorite part. He probably will never know why girls enjoyed pain mixed with pleasure, but he was nothing but a man made to pleasure you.

So, Jungkook slaps your ass encouragingly, making sure to give it a good grip after each slap.

You needed to know what it was about Jungkook - and his tongue, fingers or cock - that has you cumming so harshly on his tongue like he wants you to; and even then he refuses to stop until you’re twitching.

Jungkook doesn’t allow you to fall back like you want to, his hands grasp your twitching form and assures that you’re placed on the bed.

Licking his lips, Jungkook smirks. “My pretty girl.” he says, kissing your forehead. “I’m going to continue my movie night, okay? Then I’m going to come back here and you’re going to sit on my face again.”

You nod your head lazily, not having it in you to argue.

“I knew you were so down bad for me, baby.” Jungkook teases. He places the blanket over your naked body. “One day, I won’t need to fuck it out of you for you to admit.”

“Fuck you.” you hiss when Jungkook is half-way out the door.

“Trust me. I will.” Jungkook chuckles, closing the door behind him, leaving you in a state of arousal and anticipation.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his good dick, fingers, tongue and heart.

Series Masterlist

@suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk

#bts smut #bangtanwritershq #btsmasterlist2022 #btswritersclub #bangtan smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #ungodly hour #explicit-tae #bts college au #jungkook college au #fake tweets #bts fake tweets #simp jk #tsundere reader

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daycourtofficial · 6 months

Text

Love Potion No. 9 Part 2

Summary: Azriel’s been subjected to the effects of a love potion, causing him to be incredibly clingy to you. You have to take care of him until it wears off.

Author’s note: ask and you shall receive! The people wanted it, the people got it! I’m also open to doing a short part 3 where they find out that Cassian and Rhys gave Az the potion - but let me know!

(Part 1)

You open the door, stepping back in. Immediately you are surrounded by shadows circling every part of your body, twirling through your hair, around your legs, your waist, your wrists.

“Thank gods, you were gone for hours,” Azriel whines, striding over to you, picking you up and spinning you.

“Az, sweetie, I was gone for five minutes.” You reply, chuckling as he sets you back down.

“It was days. I was starting to worry I’d need to eat my foot.” His hand gently caresses your face, before he crouches down and picks you up over his shoulder. He dashes over to the bed, placing you on top of it and then laying directly on top of you.

“You’re squishing me,” you mumble into his neck.

“Yes,” he replies, not elaborating more.

You huff, moving your arms out to get more comfortable. Without saying anything, his hands grip your waist, and he flips you two so you’re on top of him. Your legs straddle his waist, and he holds you impossibly tight to his chest.

“My turn!” He exclaims, and you’ll have to note that love potions make you 1) incredibly clingy and 2) essentially drunk.

You lay on top of him, wondering if he was going to fall asleep like this. He has been busy the past few days, and you always worry when he’s gone whether or not he sleeps properly.

You hear his breathing get deeper and you think he’s fallen asleep until he murmurs, “feels s’good.”

You didn’t even realize you were lazily tracing your fingers up and down his arm. You still yourself, worried that this was too much, that when he sobered up he’d feel violated. Cassian’s words ring through your mind, “I’m sure Azriel can find it in his heart to forgive you if you took advantage.” Was that true? Could he?

You feel yourself getting a little too comfortable, when a realization hits you. “You stink,” you say, beginning to untangle yourself from him, “you need a bath.”

“Trying to get me naked, sweetheart?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows as he stands up and starts undoing his leathers.

“No! No, you just have been gone a few days. You reek of the forest.”

He stops undoing the straps his arm covers, “do you not like forest men?”

You shake your head no, “no, I like clean smelling men. I’ll start a bath for you, okay?”

He whines, “will you help me bathe?”

You sigh, the pitiful look on his face working on you. “No, I think you’re capable of bathing yourself.” Being a healer, you were used to nudity, it didn’t bother you, except for when it came to the male you were head over heels for, who was currently standing in front of you.

He starts undoing his leathers again, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor. You can’t stop yourself from staring - watching the tattoos that cover his chest as they practically dance across his skin as he’s moving. Tracing your eyes down his arms, watching his fingers move, undoing his pants and letting them fall to the floor. You genuinely can’t stop yourself from ogling this man standing completely naked in front of you.

You, Feyre, and Nesta had all gossiped about which one of them you thought would be the biggest, all three of you declaring it would definitely be Azriel. Staring at this marble statue of a male, the three of you were right. There’s no physical way the other two brothers could measure up to him.

“Like what you see?” Your head whips up to meet his eyes, looking at you with drunken amusement. He chuckles, enjoying the way you looked at him. Your cheeks are on fire, you’ve never ogled a patient before. But also, Azriel’s never been in such need of patient care.

He walks over to you, and you take a step back. “You’re drugged, and it would be a terrible idea for anything to transpire while you’re in such a state.” You declare, trying to maintain some sense of professionalism.

“So you don’t want to join me in the bath?” He asks, trying to step closer, as you side step him. “That would be a very bad idea,” you say, stepping away from him and toward the bathroom.

“Actually I think I got injured on my mission,” he says, a pained expression overtaking his face, “I don’t think I can bathe myself. Can you help me?”

His expression shows mock pain, but his eyes are aglow with amusement.

You laugh, “okay, fine, if you get in, I’ll help you.”

You didn’t take into consideration just how much he would enjoy your touch on him as you bathed him. Honestly it was actually very pleasant - you lit a few candles for him, and gathered a few washcloths and some soap. He was still covered in dirt from his mission, so you started by dipping the cloth into the water and cleaning off his arms.

You start humming, enjoying the peace and quiet of the bathroom. His room was nice and cozy, a surprising contrast to the image he wishes to portray to the world.

After cleaning his arms, you ask him to tilt his head back, “so I can wash your hair.”

He does as you ask, and you had actually stepped out to your room to gather your bathing supplies for him. His room was sparse of supplies, so you figured he could just smell like you for a day or two.

You cup your hands together, forming a basin with them, gather water, and pour it gently over the top of his head. After wetting his hair enough, you lather some shampoo in your hand, gently coursing your fingers through his hair.

You hear him practically purring at the situation of your fingers rubbing into his scalp. “Does that feel good?” You tease.

“Gods, yes. I’m not sure anyone’s ever done that for me before.”

Your heart breaks a little at the admission, not sure how anyone can be so cruel to him. Teasing aside, he was always incredibly kind to you and all the other members of the inner circle. You swear you haven’t had to open a door for yourself since coming to the night court and you’ve never been worried that they don’t like you. The male before you had always made you feel so included, even when you hardly knew anyone.

“Well, if you want, you can ask anytime and I’d be more than happy to help.” You say, trying to get the sentiment across.

You two continue in peaceful silence, before he asks, “can you sing for me? I once heard you singing, you were in the kitchen, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

Gods, you thought, he’s really trying to make me a puddle.

“Sometimes I hear you singing in my dreams.”

“What do I sing about?”

He thinks for a moment, “seeing me again. You only sing in my dreams when I’m away. You sing to me, asking me to come home.”

His admission makes you want to squeal, but you oblige his request and start singing an old song, one you had heard in your home court at a bar. You sing as you untangle his hair, a tale about falling in love as if some force was pulling the subject of the song to the singer.

“You have delicate hands,” he says, his head still tilted back. You had finished rinsing out his hair, but he was so calm like this, you just kept raking your fingers across his head.

“And a beautiful voice. A beautiful everything, really. I’ve never seen someone so beautiful. And kind. And smart. You’re so nice to me.”

“I could say the same things about you, Az. You’re also incredibly kind and beautiful.”

He just kept his head tilted back, enjoying the peace of this bath. You’re wondering what he’s thinking about, when he starts speaking again, “can you do this every time I come back from a mission? Might make me come home faster too.”

You giggle, “sure, I can do this after every mission.”

You didn’t mind agreeing - either you got to do this or Azriel will completely forget he asked. Gods, you think, will he remember any of this? On one hand, you know he’ll be incredibly embarrassed and flustered, on the other, you’re not sure how you can pretend none of this happened.

You help Azriel out of the bath, handing him a towel so he can dry off when he grabs your wrist. “Thank you,” he says, looking into your eyes.

You’re not sure if the effects of the potion are starting to wear off, but he seems less loopy, but still just as clingy. You smile in response to him, turn to leave, when he tightens his grip on your wrist.

“Can you dry off my wings? I hate going to bed with wet wings.” He says, and his hand has reached up and is caressing your jaw now.

“Won’t that uh, make you.. ya know?” You say, gesturing with your hands trying not to say the words.

“Make me…?” He asks, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your cheeks burn with heat, “aren’t wings like super sensitive?” You practically whisper. He laughs, “yes, but mostly just to touch from someone, rubbing a towel on it isn’t that seductive, I must say. Knowing you’re the one holding the towel, however..” he trails off, and he spends a moment just looking you up and down.

“Stop that,” you say, grabbing a towel.

“Stop what?” He asks, spreading out his wings for you to dry them. You start dabbing his wings with the towel, rubbing the towel up and down his left wing.

“Stop looking at me like I’m a meal,” you say, focusing on his wing.

His hand grasps your thigh. “But darling, how can I not? You’re taking care of me, touching me. Regardless, if I was a condemned man, I’d pick you for my last meal.”

You stop cleaning his wing at his words, “sweetheart,” he groans at the pet name, “nothing can happen while you’re still under the effects of this love potion, talk to me when you’re clear-headed.”

You resume cleaning his wings, honestly amazed at all the nooks and crannies. You’ve always wanted to see Ilyrian wings up close, but have never been confident enough to ask any of them. You know they’d probably let you look at them for medical knowledge, but they feel so… personal.

“But baby, I’m not under a love potion. I’m under your love spell.” He waggles his eyebrows, still with his eyes closed, enjoying both the cleaning of his wings and making you fidget like this.

“I did not cast a love spell or love potion on you!” You say indignantly.

“You existed and charmed me immediately.”

“I did not,“ you reply.

“After I met you, I spent days trying to learn everything I could about you. Your powers, where you’re from, your favorite cookies. Rhys caught on super quickly, unfortunately, and wouldn’t tell me more about you. ‘Ask her yourself’ he told me,” he says, doing a quite spot-on impression of the high lord.

“And did you ask me yourself?”

“I tried to get Cassian to do it, the bastard figured it out pretty quickly. You were just so pretty, how was I supposed to walk up to you and go ,”hello, tell me everything about yourself, I’ll listen. Are you free forever?” He looked so lovestruck, you couldn’t believe you could have this kind of effect on him.

You giggle, “well, I’m pretty easy to impress. I’m ashamed to admit it but that line would have worked on me. Honestly any line from you would have worked on me.”

He bolts upright, “you mean to tell me we could have been having gloriously hot sex this whole time?”

Your cheeks flame, “well I mean hopefully there’d be other stuff too, I’m not that easy.”

He tilts his head back in laughter, “you might not be that easy, but I am.”

You laugh, “okay Mr. Nice and Easy, I’ve finished drying off your wings, how are you feeling?”

He thinks for a moment, “honestly, I’m pretty tired. I don’t sleep well on missions - too wired to sleep.”

In addition to the clinginess, the love potion is making him so vulnerable. It’s nice to have him open up to you like this - how can you go back to how it was? You two were very friendly before, but this? This is a whole new level of vulnerability.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that as he was leaned against the cupboard, he had started falling asleep. You convince him to lay in his bed. He agrees, but “only if you come with me.”

He insists on you cuddling with him. You tell him you’ll go grab some pajamas, but he whines and takes off his shirt, handing it to you. “Your room’s too far,” he says, “besides I think you look adorable in my clothes.”

Azriel woke softly, a warmth pressed against him. He genuinely can’t remember the last time he slept so well - usually only when he’s injured and you or Madja provide him a concoction to sleep for days to heal.

He looked down, seeing your head nuzzled into his neck, his mind exploding with questions - did we do it and I forgot? Was I drunk? Gods, he thought, I hope not. He lifted the blanket a smidge, and both of you were fully clothed, eliminating that possibility. He did note that you were wearing his shirt, the back slits undone so we could see little slithers of your back. His hand was resting there, touching the exposed parts of your back.

He starts trying to remember what led him here - the mission, coming home, his brothers, the debrief, waiting for you to come check on him. Oh, gods. It all came back to him. He grabbed your ass, shamelessly. He flirted with you, shamelessly. He flirted with you, while he was naked. You bathed him. He wouldn’t let you go farther than 6 feet away from him. You dried his wings. You sang for him.

That’s it, he thinks. I’ll have to move. There’s no way she’ll want anything to do with me after forcing myself on her for hours. Maybe I can work for Helion in Day.

His thoughts are interrupted by you nuzzling your face into his neck. He swears he feels you kiss his neck, but he’s not sure.

He feels you stir after a while, and you look up at him, a sleepy smile adorning your face. “Hi sweetheart, how are you feeling this morning?”

He groans, “you can stop the nicknames, I think the potion’s out of my system.” He sees your face falter for a split second before composing yourself.

“Ah,” you say, “how much do you remember?”

He sighs, tightening his grip around you. Convinced you’re about to disown him and want nothing to do with him, he’ll take all the physical contact he can get right now. “I remember all of it, and I’m… I can’t believe I did all those things.”

“I don’t think you should feel too embarrassed,” you say, rubbing his arm.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, “and why not? I’ve practically been forcing myself on you for twelve hours.”

You giggle, still rubbing his arm, “did you know that love potions only work if you already have feelings for someone? Love potions work by just taking what’s there and bringing it to the surface. It smells different for everyone, smelling like things you’re attracted to.”

He stills at your words. He could deal with the embarassment of being all over you, but the knowledge that you now posess that he has deep feelings for you? It’s too much, he thinks, putting his face in his hands.

“People who take love potions are often covered in the smell of it, and it comes off of their breath like alcohol.” He feels your hands wrap around his that are still covering his face. “I uh couldn’t smell it on you. I smelled your canteen out in the hallway,” you pause, “it smelled like books, and fresh ink, and you.” His eyes snap to your face, and you look directly into his eyes.

You clear your throat, so what you’re about to say will come out as clear as possible. “If I drank a love potion right now, I would be hanging all over you, telling you how beautiful you are and how much I think about you. I’d probably also tell you that it was incredibly difficult not to give into your advances yesterday, because I did not want you to regret anything. As much as I wanted something to happen, I didn’t want it like that. At least, not the first time.”

He keeps your eye contact, searching your face for any trace of amusement.

“There’s a first time?” He asks, a smug look overcoming his face.

You laugh, “there’s as many times as you’ll have me.”

“Well I think it’s only fair for it to be your turn, falling all over yourself, telling me how beautiful I am.”

“Yeah?” You ask, putting your hands on his face. “Yeah,” he replies. “Well in that case,” you start, leaning in closer, “you are devastatingly gorgeous,” you kiss his cheek, “incredibly kind,” you kiss his other cheek, “oh so smart,” you kiss his forehead, “and I am hopelessly obsessed with you.” You lean forward, catching his lips in your mouth. Your lips move in harmony, his hands gripping your waist. You press yourself into him, deepening the kiss.

After minutes, hours, or days, you pull your head back and tell him, “now, uh, if I’m supposed to be hopelessly in love with you, I think you’re supposed to take care of me and give me a sponge bath.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff

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hiiie · 1 year

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 !!

𓆩♡𓆪 summary - how they hold you while getting intimate

𓆩♡𓆪 characters - Kaeya, Alhaitham, Kaveh x fem reader

𓆩♡𓆪 warnings - we're doing it raw today guys, creampie, teasing, degrading, mirror fucking, kaveh gobbling up yr pussy

✧ ALHAITHAM ✧

Another mean one, he always has his ways with you, it’s frustrating really, to have him dominate you, push your face into the silky sheets on his bed, bully his way inside your gooey cunt, degrading you until you’re sobbing, all while holding your hands tenderly

His balls slapping against your ass so harsh making sounds echo through his room, you almost felt pity for his roommate until that one particular thrust pulling your thoughts back to him, making your back arched in an inhumane way, you’re so sure that you wouldn’t make it through tonight without snapping your spine in half

“Tell me…do you want me to cum inside hmm dear?”

“Aah-! Please!” His hand applying pressure on your abdomen with a shit eating smirk on his face, knowing full well you love it when he does that, when his eyes met yours his breath got caught up in his throat

His deep green eyes bore into your glassy teary ones, you can’t help but look down where both of you were connected, a combination of your cum and his making a mess, his fingers now toying with your pussy

“Cum with me then”

It was like magic, his words had a heavy impact on you, he leaned down kissing your cheek so sweetly that you could’ve melted on the spot, you came alongside him, strings of his warm fluid painting your insides white, some of your combined liquids flow out your gaping hole as he pulled out

✧KAEYA✧

Holding your waist with one of his hand and the other on your thigh, drawing spreading it wider for him to access and admire his prized jewel. His thrusts are getting quicker, sharper, his hips banging against your puffy clit so hard it made your eyes roll to the back of your head making you see stars, mouth agape but alas no words came out of it, you let out a breathy moan of his name.

It was as if he actually fucked you dumb and turned you into his mindless cumdump

“How adorable” he leaned close beside your ear, cradling your chin between his pointer finger and thumb “Does my cock actually feel that good huh..” his breath makes you tingle

He pulled away, admiring his latest artwork, he his hand leaves your waist and presses down on the bites he made on your collarbone, “N—ngh” earning an annoyed whine from you

“Tsk what a spoiled brat”

He stopped his thrusts completely before pulling his cock out of your pussy, he left you alone, all messy and wanting more

Sure you can call him a bastard and other mean names but he’s the only who could make you cum right now but he's capable of refraining himself from touching you unless you get on your knees and beg for him

Oh— don’t expect him to be gentle either.

✧KAVEH✧

A mirror placed in front of you, on it reflects a pornographic scene of you getting fucked by your lover, not in a brutal way, no no kaveh would never

Oh he’s just so soft, so gentle and so patient with you, he holds you in the most loving way possible, his arms around your waist protectively helping you bounce on his cock, hands lingering everywhere on your body but your pussy, mumbling sweet I love yous into your ear, you can hear every little sounds that escapes through his pretty lips

The loud groan when you ‘accidentally’ tighten around him whist his cock brushes against your cervix, directly sending tingles down your spine, giving you goosebumps

He licks a stripe down your jawline to your shoulder, then proceeds to suck and nibble on it, leaving evident bite marks, marking his property

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the lewd scene in the mirror, because you know that he’s looking right at you like a predator eyeing it’s prey. He’s mumbling praises, even adding words you didn’t knew existed until now, worshipping your body like he’s your devoted little believer, your moans sound so heavenly so angelic to him

His grip on your waist getting tighter as he gets closer to sweet release, peppering gentle kisses on your skin, you'll think this is over? nahh its just the appetizer— he hasn't even got to the main course yet, are you that cruel to let him starve and not allow him to eat you out?

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naughtyjjk · 4 months

Text

gojo coming out of the shower

characters: gojo x fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, strip tease (kind of?)

sitting on the bed, you watch gojo as he enters the room, fresh out of the shower. and you’ve always known that he’s good looking, but now, like this, there's no denying that he's fucking hot. you can't even pretend to hide your lust for him, not when his gorgeous body is on full display right in front of you.

the worst thing about it is that he knows the exact effect he has on you, hair still wet and droplets of water running down his body as though he purposely didn't dry himself off. your eyes trail down from his face, his neck, those broad shoulders, his chest where his nipples are hardened. down, down... you have to resist the urge to throw yourself at him and lick the water off his toned abs.

there's a towel tied loosely around his waist, the v-line of his crotch and happy trail visible just enough to have you drooling. because, god, you would do anything to be able to see more of that, to have him fully exposed in front of you. it's his cock that you want to see, his cock standing straight up in arousal, big and hard and thick...

"what's wrong?" gojo brings your attention back up to his face, and he's smirking. the bastard. "like what you see, baby?"

he runs a hand through his hair, licking his lips as he does so, like he's the very definition of sex. he can tell that you're lusting after him, craving for his body; it's not like you're being very subtle with your staring. and he decides to torment you further, beginning to rock back and forth on the spot, thrusting his hips as he mimics the action of fucking someone.

you can feel heat rushing down between your legs and you ache to touch your pussy. the towel gojo has on really doesn't hide much. it's easy to tell that he's hard under the fabric, the outline of his cock visible from the way it's bulging out. you swallow, mouth suddenly dry, and fuck, you're so damn horny that it's almost unbearable.

"want me to remove this?" gojo slips his fingers under the towel, playing with the edges. teasing you.

you nod eagerly—yes, yes, please. your panties are drenched already, so fucking turned on that you might go crazy.

slowly, agonizingly slow, gojo pushes the towel down—not all the way, but just enough to make you whine. partially in frustration, partially in arousal. because the tip of his cock is now revealed, poking out from behind the fabric. the head is flushed red and leaking, pressed right up against gojo's abdomen.

"fuck," you whisper, growing desperate. you want him so bad. "please, just—take it off."

grinning, gojo releases his fingers one by one until the towel unwraps completely and drops to the floor. his cock bobs in the air, twitching, pulsing. precum glistens down the shaft in a steady stream. then, he takes one hand and holds his cock in a loose fist, jerking himself off languidly like he has all the time in the world, hips thrusting to the rhythm of his movements.

meanwhile, you're already imagining the dirty things he could be doing to you with that delicious, leaking cock: teasing your entrance, penetrating you, fucking you hard and deep. your pussy throbs with desire and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

gojo steps toward you, moving closer until he manages to push you back on the bed with his body on top of yours, caging you beneath him. you can't help but moan softly at the sight of him above you, keeping you in place and preventing you from escaping—not that you would ever want to. this close, he's almost kissing you. almost fucking you. his cock hovers just inches away your aching pussy.

when you reach out to touch him, he grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head in a firm grip.

"open your legs, baby," gojo says, whispering directly into your ear. his voice is low and seductive, and it makes you impossibly aroused, shuddering at those words. "if you beg for it, i just might give you what you want..."

tag list: @megumisdivinedogs (comment to be added!)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk men #jjk imagine #naughtyjjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo

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pepsiconcoction · 10 months

Text

beside you | han jisung x reader

pairing: han jisung x gn!reader

tags: angst with good ending, that's it i think

an: this is based off of this request, sorry it's so short!

wc: 695

A week. It’s now been a whole week since you’ve directly spoken to each other. With both of you being so stubborn to admit that either side was wrong, this was inevitable. You and Jisung had argued over something -not that either of you could remember what it was- and were now giving each other the silent treatment. To the outside it looked hilarious, the two of you living together, in the same apartment, sleeping in the same bed, and cooking meals for each other, but in silence. You’re mainly surprised that either of you could stay quiet for this long.

It all came to a final boiling point one night when you were kept for an extra hour at work. Usually, you would’ve texted Jisung to let him know you’d be home late but with the way things were going, you hadn’t. You hadn’t even checked your phone after you finished the shift, too tired to bother checking, so you’re caught off guard when you’re met with Jisung immediately at the front door.

“Where have you been?” he asks in a rush.

“At work?” you’re tone, confused. You watch as his shoulders relax and he lets out a long sigh.

“Why didn’t you respond to my texts? My calls?” His eyes are still looking you over, checking everything is still in place.

“Oh, my phone’s in my bag, I was just so tired when I left, I didn’t bother.”

“I know we’re doing the whole ‘silent treatment’ thing, but can you at least tell me if you’re working late? I was about to call the police I swear…” he trails off, rubbing his forehead. You catch him off guard by snorting a laugh. His eyes snap back towards you.

“Seriously, you’re laughing? What if something were to happen to you, huh? You could’ve gotten hurt! Or went missing, or died or something! And I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if something bad happened to you.” his rambling speeds up and you think you can see his eyes watering slightly.

“Especially with how we’ve been this past week! What if you had died thinking I was mad at you?”

“Jisung.” You try but are immediately cut off.

“God knows you would have haunted me because of it, that’s how you get a poltergeist, you know.” He’s now pointing a finger at you. You grab the hand that’s reaching towards you and the contact seems to shut him up.

“Jisung, look at me. I’m here, completely fine,” you say gently. And that’s when the dam breaks. Tears spill from his eyes and he immediately melts into your arms, you catch him easily. He is mumbling all sorts of things: apologies, pleas, more apologies.

“Please don’t leave me. It’s okay if you’re still mad, just please don’t leave.” He heaves out. Your shirt is now a little damp, but you barely notice.

“Wait, baby, you thought I’d leave?” You ask him.

“Well, when you didn’t come back…” You look into his glossy eyes and feel your heart shatter into a million pieces. You immediately pull him into your chest, pulling him in as tightly as you could.

“Ji, I’m so sorry I worried you. I promise I would never leave like that, I’m not going anywhere, baby,” you talk into his hair. You stand in the entryway for a few minutes, soothing him gently, encouraging the tears to stop. He sniffles one last time and you use the sleeve of your sweater to dab his round cheeks dry.

“I’ve missed you.” You brush your fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t go anywhere.” he attempts a smile.

“Yeah, but I didn’t get to talk to you for a whole week,” you respond, attempting to lighten the mood.

“It was so hard, I have so many things to tell you.” he chuckles.

“How about we get all cuddled up in bed and you can tell me everything?” You ask.

“That sounds perfect.”

It isn’t until a few hours later that the argument was brought up again, and the both of you end up laughing, because you were right, neither of you could remember what it was about.

taglist (lmk if you want added!): @lethallyprotected @lieslab

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fic #skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung #jisung #han jisung fluff #han jisung imagines #han jisung smut #han jisung angst

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

Note

Regarding the 5k, CONGRATULATIONS!! Its completely well deserved if not more! I started following not so long ago but I'm so happy for you and the fact that I get to celebrate this with you!

That aside... May I request. I'm in dare need for fluff about ANYone of the tf141, that can be your choice, like, who do you think would like/fit this the most. If not, preferably Price or Soap. I need to pamper this damn men!!!!!!

Heres the idea: whoever (?) comes home late for a deployment, super tired and newly injured, but to his surprese, you're still up. Upon seeing him you decide to fill the bath and pamper him! Help him wash and stuff, treat him RIGHT (?).

This can totally include cute banter and even some nsfw, given the situation hehe.

Again, I love your wrinting and I'm super happy for you!!

—Get In

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Coming home with bruises and stitched wounds, you drag him into the bathroom to wash away the memories.] ❞

You don’t think he expected you to be up this late, judging by the way his eyebrows lightly snapped up at the sight of you on the couch with the throw blanket over your shoulders. But he was a fool for thinking you wouldn’t wait when he had called you not five hours earlier to explain he was back in-country.

“Love?” John asks, confused. He looks at the clock on the far wall and clicks on the living room light. You blink quickly, the TV having been your only source of illumination. “What are you doing up?”

“What kind of a question is that?” Yawning, you speak the words through it, standing and padding over with eager feet. When you get in front of his imposing frame, you huff and tilt your head to him. “Did you expect to find me in bed, Captain? I should be offended that you find me so weak of mind.”

Your easy tease brings a smirk to John’s lips even as the bags under his eyes and the fresh stitches in his back pull painfully. He doesn’t want to worry you.

John grunts and grabs at your arm, grumbling through a growing smile as he drags you into him.

“Never said that.” You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his waist. John lightly stiffens, but you barely notice because of the sudden sweep his scent has on your focus. Like an ardent wave in an ocean, you sigh and pay no mind to the sway.

“I know you didn’t, Handsome.” His small wince tips you off when you squeeze him, and you immediately pull back as the man curses himself.

The mood shifts.

“...John?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he sighs, grabbing you by the cheeks and pressing his lips into your forehead, breathing softly into your skin. You both stay like that for a minute before he utters again. “Just a scratch, Love, yeah?”

“Is it bad,” you ask instantly, reaching for the hem of his shirt before he grabs your hand delicately and smiles in the way only he can.

“Easy,” he whispers. “S’not bad, Love. Just aches a bit when I move. Sutures are pullin’.”

Your face falls. “Sutures?”

John’s lips thin out under his beard hair. He knows he can’t get out of this and grunts his answer. “Shrapnel. Got it all out, but I’m off until they heal.”

“Oh, John,” you sigh, tilting your head at him in pain as you hesitate to touch him again for fear it might hurt. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head from side to side. “No, Sweetheart, there’s nothing that you need to do for me, eh? Bein’ back here is better than the medicine those muppets tried to give me.”

“Have you eaten?” You dote, moving back and taking him lightly by the sides of his biceps. Eyes snap up and down—suddenly more awake than you had been previously at the thought of John being injured.

The sides of the man’s eyes wrinkle and he chuckles, capturing your cheeks before he leans into you as you make a slight noise of shock. He presses a firm kiss directly to your lips, not letting up until you sigh with reassurance and sag with comfort.

John pulls back to tap his forehead against yours, a hand slipping to drag your body into his. You conform readily to his bulk, humming as he smirks.

“As much as I love the feeling of you touchin’ me, Sweetheart,” he teases, “I’ll be needing to clean up before bed.”

You breathe out a silent sigh, still concerned but understanding that he’s tired—there could be more of this tomorrow. It’s late.

“You’re dead on your feet,” you utter, moving to kiss his neck as he nearly purrs and slumps into you. “Let me spoil you.”

“...Don’t need to ask me twice,” he mutters, gazing down at you with a deep expression of love as his cheeks heat to a light shade of crimson.

You smile and move back, grabbing the man’s wrist to bring him to the bathroom for a hot bath. He stares at the back of your head as you do, shifting his hand to let his fingers be intertwined with yours and the heat of your flesh.

When you’re both in the bathroom, you tug at his shirt again, giving a soft order of, “off,” before you go and grasp the water handle, twisting the plug closed. John chuckles, shaking his head, and grasps his shirt casually—pulling up until his skin goes taut.

He flinches slightly, grunting, but the strands of his hair still ruffle as he shuffles the fabric off and drops it to the floor. As you get the right temperature of water, he unbuckles his belt and slides it out of its loops.

He strips down to nothing, you humming across the room as you go to grab a towel from the wrack, wiping your hand on it as the tub begins to fill quickly.

You look at John as he humphs and runs a hand over his beard.

“Let me see,” your voice says over the water as you walk up to him, shifting behind John’s form and letting your hand trail from the front of his abdomen to the side of his waist. The man shivers at the scrape of your nails, eyes fluttering shut before you find the mess of his back.

Red skin is stitched together as you carefully pull at the old gauze, small bits of blood trapped in white before you toss them to the counter. You close your eyes tightly and fight back tears.

They were tiny but obviously deep from the amount of red and damage that was done to dig the shrapnel out—irritated even hours later.

“What are you thinking back there, then?” You press your lips into the wideness of his shoulder blades and breathe into him; he looks over his shoulder.

“That my Lover should be more careful with himself,” you level. He knows how you feel, but even your insistence wouldn’t change his mind about this topic.

You move to turn off the water, kissing his skin again. He follows, walking over with heavy steps. John leans in close to your ear, pulling you over to slide his hand under your shirt.

“Join me?” He raises a brow, and you nod tinily. There would be no need to convince you.

The both of you slip into the bath moments later, and you keep behind him to take the water and slip it along his wounds to clean them, digits caressing over the stitches and rubbing out the hard muscle. John grunts before he leans his spine back into you.

Your eyes blink down in shock as he spreads his weight and lays it on your chest, body limp in the water as, smiling, you spread your fingers into his hair; also taking the time to slouch and let the wall be your backrest.

John leans his face into your chin, kissing it reverently as you massage his scalp with dripping fingers.

“Comfy?” You ask, everything silent beyond the sound of your shared breathing and the ripple of the bath.

John closes his eyes and lets you touch him as you see fit, letting you ease his aches and pains with a brush of your flesh and your lovely lips.

“Heavenly,” he breathes into your neck.

You hum and kiss his forehead as if your lips could heal his wounds. If you tried hard enough, you hope one day they could.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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itsphoenix0724 · 5 months

Text

Hold Me Gently (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Azriel knew exactly what he signed up for when he became the court's spymaster, but sometimes everything gets too much for him to handle.

Warnings: Smut, angsty, negative thoughts about oneself, some dark stuff mentally

Word count: 1.6k

Bonus Chapter!

A/N: Hi loves! I'm excited to put this out for you guys I've been working on it for kind of a hot minute. Please read the tags carefully. I hope you all enjoy it, and as always constructive criticism is welcome. Plus I've got a special surprise coming in December that I may announce later this week so keep a look out. <3

Azriel swore sometimes he could still hear the screams that echoed off the stone walls of the Hewn City rattle around in his brain for days. Rhys had been clear this time.

Get the information through whatever means necessary, no matter what.

So that’s exactly what he had done, and it had taken hours. He sent Rhys a message with the information and winnowed directly into your bedroom. He knew you were downstairs in the kitchen because he had sent his shadows earlier to watch you, but he couldn’t bear to have you look at him right now. To have you look at him like he was the most amazing thing in the universe when you had no idea what horrors he committed just an hour earlier. Azriel hides his shame from the portrait of his mating ceremony, turning away from even your painted adoration. He is not the smiling male in that picture. He is not the male who deserves to put his blood-stained hands around your waist. He doesn’t deserve any of it. Not your kindness, not your comfort, not your kiss, or your smile. Not when he spent half the day ripping a man apart.

Maybe that male had a mate waiting at home too.

He sneaks carefully into the bathroom, turning the bathtub's faucet to boiling and letting the tub fill. Az peels off his leathers layer by layer, and they hit the clean white tile with a sickeningly wet sound, none of the blood is his. As he watches the red slowly seep onto the floor he knows that the tile’s just another thing he’s ruined.

He wishes he could peel his skin off as well.

Azriel sinks slowly into the tub, letting the sting of the hot water work every muscle. He wanted to erase everything, to let the water cleanse away his disgusting actions. His shadows send a whisper of you humming quietly from the kitchen and he almost bursts into tears. How had the cauldron given him someone someone so gentle? How did you wake up in their bed every day and not know you slept next to a monster? Az sinks under the surface, unable to bear the rushing in his head, and doesn’t come back up until his lungs are screaming for air.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You knew something was wrong when your mate didn’t immediately come to see you after returning from his mission. You had heard the faucet start to run while chopping vegetables for dinner, and you assumed Az was quickly rinsing off before he joined you. After half an hour had passed you started to become concerned. You knew your mate, and even though he never told you specifics, he sometimes needed time after his return from the Hewn City. You silently creep up the stairs of your home, avoiding all the creaking floorboards that might tip Azriel off. You swing open the bedroom door, but he is nowhere to be found the only evidence of him is a trail of blood that sends your heart into overdrive. You follow it to your bathroom door, now more worried about his safety than anything. The bond beating in your chest is dark, and it has been since Az left your bed this morning. Throwing open the door you’re met with a wall of crushing darkness. You fight through the swirling blackness, trying to call Azriel’s name, but you can’t see two feet in front of you. A rouge shadow comes to circle your wrist dragging you to your mate’s hunched form in the bathtub, base instinct takes over as you climb into the water hissing as the burning water scalds your thighs. “Azriel,” You call his name, taking his head in your hands. His hazel eyes seem unfocused like he’s looking through you than at you. “Az,” you rush out again. “Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?” You tilt his head this way and that way before scanning the rest of his body. You shake him at the shoulders trying to get him to see you. Finally, as if Az just realized you were there, he looks at you.

“The blood isn’t mine.” is all he says before his head thumps back against the porcelain as if it’s too heavy to hold on his own. Your shoulders sag in relief. “You shouldn’t be in here. Go back downstairs I’ll be there in a minute.” He runs the wet silk of your nightgown in between his fingers. You have no intention of leaving this bathtub until you figure out what's wrong with your mate.

“What’s happened?” You push running your fingers through the threads of his inky black hair. “Did the mission not go well?” Azriel scoffs, looking unbothered, but you can see the muscles in his throat tightening with effort to keep something hidden. You try to pull at the bond again, begging him to lower the obsidian shields he builds around himself, his hands shake with the effort of keeping them impenetrable. He still avoids your eyes, yet you try again refusing to yield. “Sweetheart…” you whisper softly and the Shadowsinger cracks before you. His walls rush down and crash against you like a tsunami, the wave of self-hatred that he had been holding in barrels against you with enough force to bring down the mountains. Silver lines his hazel eyes and your heart almost cracks in two. Wrapping your arms around Azriel you cradle him to your body, his hands tighten around your waist seeming torn between pulling you closer and pushing you away. His shoulders shake with the force of his sobs and all you can do is keep stroking his hair and make soothing sounds, trying to calm him down enough to speak. Az takes a shuddering breath, but the tears still stream down his face. You chase them away with the pads of your fingers.

“I do not deserve you,” he grinds out, voice rusty from the tears. You rub soothing circles into the joints of his shoulders and it makes Azriel want to throw up. “I am the monster mothers warn their children about at night. I’ve committed horrors that should make you run away in terror” You shake your head with feverance.

“I would never run from you Azriel. There is nothing too dark or too ugly that would make me love you any less. I promise you I can handle it.” Azriel does nothing but collapse back against you shaking his head back and forth. “Just talk to me please.” He takes a deep inhale, trying to calm his racing heart.

“I bled a male dry today. Rhys needed information, and he was harder to break than anticipated.” It’s all the information Az is willing to give. You have to stamp down the fury rising in your own chest. Both at Rhysand for putting your mate through this and at the Hewn City itself.

You’d tear this court apart brick by brick for making Azriel feel like he’s less than deserving of his life.

You’ll have to talk with Rhys later because for now, your focus is Az and Az alone. You refuse to allow him to continue to carry on like this, cursing yourself for not realizing the effects of this position wearing on him sooner.

“Look at me.” You pull his jaw towards you, forcing him to meet your eyes “There is no universe where you are not deserving of happiness. You have a job to do, and I understood that when I accepted this bond. I do not fear you, I do not balk from you, and I do not love you any less because of that.” The bond sings with light as the weight finally starts to leave your mate's shoulders. Golden eyes study you intensely before he hauls you against him in one fluid motion and crashes his lips to yours. He tastes like burning whiskey, and kisses you so fiercely you’re afraid your lips might bruise. You hold him together the best you can, afraid that if you let him go he will shatter into pieces before you. “Are you sure you want this right now?” You ask, you’ll give Az whatever he needs, and if he needs a distraction from his head then you’re happy to provide it to him. He nods, leaning down to press his lips to your collarbone. You run your hands along his back grinding yourself into him, and pour love and devotion down your side of the bond to him. His hardness presses against you as he nudges aside the scraps of lace before sheathing himself into the hilt. You let Azriel take what he needs, fucking you on his length, rocking you back and forth. He’s hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars with such force water sloshes over the edge of the tub, washing away the blood from Azriel’s leathers. You run your hands along the edge of his wing and he roars, one hand almost cracking the porcelain of the bathtub. He changes his pace to pure brutality, using you like no more than a toy. Your thighs shake with the effort to keep yourself upright. He’s ruthless in the way he moves like a hungry predator finally tearing into its kill. Your orgasm tears through you with blinding energy, and you unravel faster than you’d like to admit, but Az always manages to have that effect on you. He loses himself soon after you, tumbling over the edge with so much force he rips the bottom of your nightgown into ribbons. You stare at each other for a long moment, relishing in the afterglow and grateful for the hot water in the tub.

“I’m sorry for ripping your nightgown,” Azriel rumbles and you laugh a beautiful golden sound.

“You can buy me a new one later,” you promise, “but for now let me wash your hair.”

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Text

Burnt Out

summary: when you're overworking yourself trying to please everyone, Remus wants you to take some time for yourself

cw: mention of not eating, exhaustion

Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus is reading in your bedroom when he hears the door open, screaming on its hinges, and slam shut. Just that noise lets him know what kind of day you’re having, but he gets up and moves towards the sound anyway, eager to see you.

“Dove?” he calls as he enters the kitchen, where he finds you already surrounded by sandwich supplies, slathering jelly onto a piece of bread you’ve placed directly onto the counter in your rush.

You turn around at his voice. “Remus, hi!” You beam, surging toward him.

He catches you as you stumble, clipping your hip on the corner of the counter, and a soft, sympathetic hiss escapes him. “Careful,” he murmurs, covering the spot with his hand protectively as you press yourself to his chest, your arms winding around his neck. Remus brings his other hand to the center of your back, squeezing gently, and he wishes he could pour his affection into you this way, through the palm of his hand.

“Sorry,” you say into his neck, though he’s unsure why you’re apologizing to him. It’s your poor hip that’s been slighted. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“I haven’t been here long,” he assures you.

You pull back, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that feels like it’s over before it’s begun, and he tries in vain to hold onto you as you move away. You resume rushing around the kitchen, letting cabinets and drawers bang shut behind you. Ordinarily you move almost silently, always easing the front door shut behind you and moving around the apartment on socked feet, much to Remus’ amusement when he comes into the living room to find you curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and dinner already in the oven, and he wasn’t even aware you were home. But on your busiest days, you turn into this—what he’s affectionately dubbed your Tornado of Productivity—and the time it takes to be your usual quiet, careful self simply doesn’t serve your goal of functioning at maximum efficiency. You’d been in this state for the last few days, never seeming to have more than a few minutes’ break between work and school and the myriad of social obligations Remus suspects you only agree to because of the guilt you’ve associated with the word “no.”

“How was your day?” Remus asks probingly.

You blow out a breath that answers his question before you do. “Crazy,” you admit, washing a tomato in the sink. “I had a test at noon, and I didn’t study yesterday because I thought I’d have time this morning, but then I had to go in to work.”

He feels his brow furrow. “Didn’t you work last night?”

“Yeah, but—” you absentmindedly grab a knife from the drawer, then another, until finally you find the one you need “—Mia didn’t sleep well last night, so I told her I could take her shift.”

“Dove.” Remus tries to keep his reprimanding tone gentle. “You barely slept last night either.”

“I know,” you sigh again, and you sound so exhausted Remus wants to seize you and swaddle you in blankets so you have no choice but to rest. Get you in bed and kiss the crease between your eyebrows until it fades away. Give you the cosseting you deserve. “But she asked for my help, and—anyway, I don’t feel great about the test since I only had a few minutes to study right before.”

“I’m sorry,” he says earnestly. “I’m sure it went better than you think.”

You flash him a kind, if somewhat forced, smile. “Thanks.” You’ve just finished the sandwiches, of which Remus now notices there are three. Three completely different sandwiches: peanut butter and jelly, ham and cheese, and something involving lettuce and tomato. He can’t imagine what you need that variety for, but he rarely understands what you’re up to when you’re this scatterbrained. Your mission nearly complete, you seem to be short-circuiting in the middle of the kitchen, standing with your hands raised as if prepared for your next task and your features scrunched up bemusedly.

“Plates?” Remus suggests gently.

“No, sorry—I need, um—” You shake your head as if chastising yourself. “Tupperware. I need tupperware.” You roll your eyes, seemingly at your own forgetfulness. It makes Remus feel defensive, though to defend you against yourself seems like a conflict of interests. You open the cabinet above your microwave, reaching for the containers. “Marlene and Mary want to meet, but I haven’t had time to eat since breakfast…” You appear sheepish at Remus’ exasperated look, but he doesn’t interrupt. “...so I said I’d make us all sandwiches.”

You’re struggling to reach the tupperware, and Remus nudges you out of the way, passing them to you. “Dove,” he says, using his new proximity to set his hands on your shoulders, preventing you from dashing off again, “don’t you think you need some time to rest? You’ve had a long day, I’m sure the girls will understand you wanting to meet another time.” You bite your lip, anxious at the idea of canceling on your friends. “And,” he adds lightly, “I wouldn’t mind getting to spend some time with you too. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you the last few days.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widen, so instantaneously guilty he wishes he could take it back. “I’m so sorry, Remus, you’re right. I, um.” Your brow furrows, gaze moving over his shoulder to some faraway place, and Remus can see your overworked gears turning again, your fatigued brain struggling to solve this new dilemma. “I have class in the morning, but I shouldn’t be home too late tonight if—or, I actually have about fifteen minutes before I’m meeting Mary and Marl, do you want to hang for a bit now and then maybe walk with me?”

“I want you to take time for yourself,” Remus says firmly, though not unkindly. “I’m not trying to give you another task, love, I promise.” He lets his hands drop from your shoulders to where your fingers are fidgeting anxiously, easing his own between them. “But you’re spreading yourself too thin. Marlene and Mary love you, and that’s not gonna change if you don’t always have time to meet when they do.” You slouch slightly against the counter, beginning to resign yourself unhappily to the idea of staying in, and Remus kisses the top of your head sympathetically. “You can put your sandwiches in the fridge so they stay ready for you, and I’ll make us whatever you want for dinner. Pasta?” he asks, to sweeten the deal.

Your gaze meets his again, your interest piqued. “That sounds amazing.”

“Alright, pasta,” he says decisively, smiling at you solely so you’ll smile back. It works, and he’s pleased to note that it looks a bit less strained than before. He begins herding you towards the living room, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he imagines he can see the guilt in your eyes slowly fading away as you let them droop slightly, giving into the relaxation Remus is peddling so persuasively. “And we can watch a movie, and cuddle, yeah?”

You hum assent, releasing a little sigh of contentment as you sink into the couch cushions and giving Remus your sweetest, most adoring look as he settles in beside you, covering you with a blanket. “Thank you,” you say, packing the words with enough sincerity to make Remus’ heart ache. “I’ll try to…cut back, a bit.”

“No one will hold it against you,” he promises, knowing you need to hear it, “and if they do, send them to me for a scolding.”

You grin. “That would be a cruel punishment, I’m not sure I could do that to some poor soul.” You tilt your chin upwards, and he meets you halfway, the kiss lingering and sweet. You brush your thumb tenderly along Remus’ jaw as you pull away, and he knows what you’re feeling before you open your mouth. The same sentiment echoes through his chest. “I love you,” you whisper, like it’s a sacrament. “Promise you’ll still love me back if I meet up with the girls tomorrow and pencil you in for after?”

Remus huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Alright, love, I promise.”

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #marauders era #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin baby blurb #marauders

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erswrites · 1 year

Text

notice you

summary: you’ve always loved xavier thorpe from a distance and jump in front of an arrow to save him. gender neutral pronouns <3

word count: 1.6k

warnings: mentions of blood and being wounded, some swearing

The wind and heat from the fire swirling around in the air pull you from the siren song's hold on your mind. The noise from the fight unfolding around you must have been louder than the siren’s message.

You blink a few times before realizing you’re in the quad, following a few of the people on your hall away from the courtyard.

You freeze when you see what you can only assume to be Joseph Crackstone resurrected from the dead among the flames with Wednesday. Your friends are calling to you from the door to your left, but you ignore them when you notice Xavier arrive in the doorway just a few strides away.

He releases the arrow from his bow and you follow it with your eyes to see Crackstone stop it before it reaches him and slowly rotate it back around towards Xavier.

There was no time to think. You can remember hearing your friends screams behind you as you took a step towards Xavier. Then another and another until you were running as fast as you could.

With your telekinesis, you push Wednesday out of the arrow’s path to safety. The last thing you remember thinking was if this kills me, at least I’m dying for the boy I love. You planted your feet square in front of Xavier, immediately feeling a sharp pain in your shoulder that knocks the wind from your lungs and warm blood spilling down your body.

Then your mind went black. When you came to, your back was pressed into Xavier’s chest and you were laying between his legs on the concrete. You must have fallen into him. His breathing was frantic against you and you felt his hands come to the arrow in your left shoulder. You winced in pain and heard a thousand panicked “oh my gods” and “sorrys” fall from his lips.

“Break it,” you whispered through gritted teeth, in pain. It was too deep to pull out, plus you were afraid of making the wound worse.

“Okay, okay,” he breathed in your ear before snapping the thin wood to shorten the arrow.

“Wednesday?” you manage to ask him. He knows what you mean. “She’s okay,” he whispers.

Xavier shifts behind you, using his hands on your back to lay you down gently. He leaves a large hand cradling under your head that silently says I’m not leaving as he calls out to your friend while he kneels next to you.

“Wednesday!” he yells.

“Get them out of here!” you hear Wednesday return.

And before you can protest, Xavier is lifting you off the group with one arm under your knees and the other around your back holding you to his chest. You probably could have walked but he didn’t stop to ask.

In the safety of his arms, your adrenaline wears off and your eyes become heavy as your vision blurs. You try mumbling something to him but you can’t get it out because you’re passing out.

——————

A consistent beep pulls you out of your sleep. You become aware that you’re alive before noticing the sound of a pencil being dragged across paper and a hand grazing over it.

Then you remember and you shift in the sheets of the hospital bed.

When you open your eyes, you see Xavier Thorpe leaned over you with an expression you’ve never seen in his green eyes.

“Welcome back,” he says quietly. You smile the best you can.

“The doctors said you’ll be fine after your stitches heal. They had to remove the arrow in surgery.”

You exhale the breath you’d been holding in. This might be the most words he’s ever said to you directly. And even in your current circumstance where you should obviously be more worried about the gaping wound in your shoulder, you can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at his proximity to you.

“I’m supposed to call the nurse the second you wake up,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Will you wait?” you ask, “just a few minutes?”

“Yeah of course,” he says as he sits back down in the seat he’d pulled up inches from your bed.

You follow him with your eyes and notice dozens of drawings littering the table by your bed. He must have been here for hours. Long enough to steal a little notepad and pencil from the nurse’s station and bring every corner of the hospital room to life. You hope he’ll let you keep the one of the bouquet of flowers.

Your breath hitches when you notice there’s one of you with your face tucked into a book, reading intently. This is probably the only way he’s seen you. You realize you’re wrong when your eyes find another of you sitting with your gaze on to a desk, eyebrows dipped together in concentration. You’re scribbling notes with one hand while your chin is tucked into your other palm. One that looked like you standing in line at the Weathervane and another of you walking with Enid and Yoko. He had been trying to draw every memory he had of you.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you pray he won’t ask the obvious question you’ve been dreading since you took the first step in his direction back in the courtyard.

He whispers your name gently, bringing you back to the room and you know it’s coming.

“Why the hell did you do that?” he asks. Not accusatory or upset, but genuine and dumbfounded.

You close your eyes, too shy to meet his gaze when you answered.

“Come on Xavier, you know why,” you say as you sit up in the bed, wincing a little at the lingering pain.

It’s true, he’s noticed your glances and the way your cheeks flushed at the littlest thing he did or said. He lost track of the times he’d looked in your direction and caught you gazing at him from behind your book. You always complimented his mural in the quad or his drawings in class even though he feels like he’s never reciprocated the attention you give him. He actually can’t even think of a time he’s spoken to you individually and not in a group.

He blinks, a surprised expression painting his features, letting your words settle in his mind, confirming his suspicion. He exhales a long breath.

“Yeah, but jumping in front of me like that…” he trails off, still in shock that you would do something like that for him. “Why didn’t you just move the arrow instead of Wednesday?”

“It’s harder to focus on a moving object. I’m still learning that,” you explain, although that had actually not even occurred to you in the moment. Your brain went straight to protect. He must have been thinking about it a lot.

He nods in understanding. Another silence falls between you, this time a little more uncomfortable. You can feel a weird energy coming from him as it looks like he’s grappling with some thoughts.

“It’s okay Xavier,” you start, reaching a hand out to where his rested on the table by your bed trying to assure him, “you don’t have to feel the same.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, eyebrows raised in astonishment. “You think I could watch you do something like that and then not immediately regret not noticing you sooner?”

You blush.

“I feel like an idiot,” Xavier says, dropping his head and lowering his gaze to his lap.

“No Xavier please don’t feel bad,” you plead. “I could have tried just talking you like a normal person you know.”

He laughs, bringing his head back up to meet yours.

“That was quite an unconventional way of getting my attention,” he jokes.

“It worked though,” you kid back at him, smiling to yourself.

Another silence lingers between you as you look at each other for what feels like the first time.

“Can I keep that?” you ask him, eyes gesturing to the drawing of the vase of flowers.

“You can have whatever you want,” he says confidently, handing you the scrap of paper. “I’ll get you some real ones one day.”

“I like these,” you smile at him.

“I’m sorry this is our first date,” he blurts out. Your shocked eyes dart to meet his green ones staring at you.

“And what makes you think I would have said yes to a date?” you joke with him, a feeble attempt to deflect. You’re finding it way easier to talk to him than you ever imagined previously.

“Hmm, maybe the jumping between me and an arrow thing,” he quips, bringing his finger to point at your bandaged up shoulder.

You smile and nod, admitting defeat.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you on our second date,” Xavier begins and you believe him. “But since we have a lot of time here before they let you go, I could go get us some coffees and you’ll let me ask you all the typical first date getting-to-know-you questions while we wait?”

“I’d love that,” you say breathlessly.

Xavier nods and gives you his toothy side smile that you’ve always adored.

“Okay, I’ll be right back then,” he says quickly, standing from his chair.

But when you expected him to turn and go, he stops and looks at you for a few moments. You can’t believe it when he leans in to your space and presses his lips gently against your cheek. Your eyes close with his kiss and you inhale a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he whispers into your ear before pulling away.

You can’t find words when he glances at you before leaving, but your adoring eyes are filled with you’re welcome and I would do it again and I love you and Xavier finally sees that.

—————

thank you for reading 🖤

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe imagine

2K notes · View notes

masonreds · 7 months

Text

mason mount x reader

summary: when y/n is wants to be more than fuck buddies but mason doesn’t want anything more

word count: 8,0k words

warnings! smut + angst. I guess you could say dickhead!mason too a little? might have some mistakes so I’m sorry about that

‘Why don’t you visit me anymore?’

You tried not to let it get to this point, but you couldn’t deny it.

You missed him

It was around 8pm and Mason was getting ready to leave training. He had a late training session, he was just coming out of the changing rooms before he froze when he heard your voice at the doorway.

‘What are you doing here?’ His facial expression shifted from neutral to cold, but knowing him that wasn’t much of a difference.

‘I wanted to see you.’ The changing rooms were empty. Everyone had left for the day, but you kind of memorised Masons training days so you knew that he would be here right now, otherwise if he wasn’t, it would’ve made you look like a complete fool.

If it wasn’t for the security guard letting you in, you’d still be standing like a lost person in the parking lot, but you refused to go another week without seeing him.

Mason took a deep breath to calm his nerves before closing the locker door where he kept his belongings. You had caught him at the right time because his coat was already on and his training bag was in his hand, ready to head out of the door.

At least until you showed up.

He sighed before putting all of his things down and walking over to the bench and leant against the bench, not sitting down and crossing his arms. Unfortunately, he knew he would now be longer than he had to, and the way he looked at you indicated that he wasn’t happy about it.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ his voice is stern. ‘Is there something you need?’

Sheepishly, you walked over to him, gently pressing your hands against his t shirt. ‘I waited for you last night,’ you whispered, looking up into his eyes. ‘You didn’t call.’

Mason’s jaw twitched at the feeling of your hands on his chest while making sure he stayed rested on the bench behind him to keep his composure. You caught him off guard and the tension in the air didn’t help. He managed to maintain his professional persona but maintaining his emotional distance was the real challenge.

He quickly understood what this was; the consequences of an impromptu decision he made in a moment of weakness that had finally come back to haunt him.

This was bad. He looked past you to the rest of the empty changing room, making sure there was no one else in sight and no one to catch whatever it was you were about to do.

‘That was a one-time thing,’ he didn’t even bother to look at you as he spoke. ‘We made a mutual agreement, remember?’

‘Then why did it happen more than once?’ You said breathily, sensually sliding your hands up to his shoulder

Mason took a deep breath and finally looked you directly in the eyes. ‘It wasn’t supposed to,’ his voice is low and serious.

It was Friday night, your night. The only day of the week when he would knock on your front door in the middle of the night and relieve his built-up stress from the seven days prior. And you gladly helped him.

You were his secret; Mason’s beautiful guilty pleasure.

Eventually, one Friday turned into two, then four, then eight. No one could tell you that what you two had wasn’t chemistry if they saw the way you lusted for each other. They’d notice the way he held you on the edge of the bed, or the counter, or the shower wall. Or they’d bring up the love marks that hardly got a chance to fade throughout the week before he was back on you, darkening them.

How you wished they heard the noises he fucked out of you echo down the hall, followed by the thumping sounds of the bed frame banging against the wall.

Unabashedly, you did anything just to please him, just hear him say your name between grunts. In public, in private, AM or PM, when he called, you came running, even if it was something unimportant.

For one day out of the week, you both belonged to each other and no one else.

That was until he stopped knocking.

You stepping closer only made it harder for Mason, both literally and figuratively. He could feel the heat of your breath against his skin intertwine with the rush of being this close to you after so long. It was agonizing, and he only had himself to blame. He let himself get swept away by desire, knowing in his heart that a relationship with you was something he could never have.

‘You're only going to get hurt if this continues.’

‘I don’t care.’ Wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, you pulled his face closer to yours. ‘I want to see you.’ You hovered your lips over his.

A taste is all he needs

A small spark to jog the memories of the pleasure he felt when he was with you, memories that he tried so hard to move on from.

His lips brushed against yours. He could feel your desperation and your scent alone was enough to make him go back on his word.

Reluctantly, he let himself lean into your touch. Your noses grazed each other, and you gave his cheek a light lick. Mason shuddered. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes, melting into your embrace, like it was second nature. For a brief second, he placed his hand on your waist, before he quickly pulled away.

‘It was a mistake,’ he exhaled, coming back to his senses.

You frowned. ‘It wasn’t a mistake the other night.’

Your hands slid back down to his chest, but Mason grabbed your wrists before they could go any further. His eyes said more than his lips could. It was heartbreaking how loud they begged you to let him go.

But yours only begged him to stay.

Mason released your wrist and stood up straight, subtly pushing you off of him. It was impressive the way this man reverted back to his professional demeanor without missing a beat.

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” he spoke firmly. “This will only hurt us both in the end, and I know you don’t want that.”

“If I cared about that, you think I’d still be here?” You try to step closer to him again, but he brushes past you and strides to the front door.

“Please leave… I’ll pay for your uber if I need to.” He’s trying to be as gentle as he can, hiding his inner frustration in knowing that he so badly he secretly wants you to stay, but he could never say that. “I won’t ask you again.”

The silence was strong.

You didn’t speak, nor did you move. You simply stared at him, taking in the features you used to touch yourself to whenever the right side of your bed was empty. It was all there in front of you.

Your eyes couldn’t help but gaze at his lips, remembering how they felt against your skin. Then his hands, remembering how they pulled you closer to him. Until your eyes found his, remembering them never leaving yours even when he was inside you.

Especially when he was inside you.

So you didn’t move. Better yet, you walked over to the washing machine that was in the corner of the room and sat yourself on it, locking in your decision.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Mason clenched his jaw, his controlled expression turning into one of anger as he aggressively made his way towards you. Instantaneously, he placed himself between your legs, towering over you with a menacing glare.

The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. You were small in comparison to his tall frame. He would have no problem forcing you into submission, but still, you didn’t budge. It almost excited you.

Neither of you said a word, but this time with more conviction. He's trying to intimidate you out of the changing rooms and out of his life, while you only invited yourself in.

His furrowed brows didn’t soften until you reached for his hand and placed it over your heart without breaking eye contact; It was beating at a steady pace. Only letting your heart speak, you subtly told him he didn’t scare you, and he caught on.

With one final attempt, Mason bent down to your eye level and rested his long arms on either side of you. His face was inches away as his brown eyes peered into yours. It was like he could see right through you. As if he could read your every thought and predict your every move while he waited for your heart rate to spike.

Still, it was calm.

It wasn’t until he tilted his head a bit to the side and grazed his nose against yours that he felt your heart rate pick up in his hands. Mason knew exactly what that meant and he cursed internally at it. The thought of his lips on yours was enough to change your breathing.

For a moment, the two of you practically breathed each other’s air; Your lips almost touching, almost willing to give in.

‘One more time. One more night,’ was all you could say. Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper. ‘Let me make you feel good for one more night please.’

Mason opened his mouth, prepared to oppose your proposition until you cut him off. It was a simple reminder, but in this moment, it meant everything.

‘It’s Friday…’

Hearing those two words mixed with hurt and loneliness, Mason’s chest throbbed. A look of pity washed over his face. The tension between the two of you was now one hundred percent physical.

There was a long pause as Mason looked down at you, struggling to make a decision. His heart was pounding inside his chest, and he felt a sense of desire that he had not felt for a long time, at least, not for anyone else.

The worst part about it was you weren’t going to take no for an answer. He knew the consequences of what you were asking him to do, but in your presence, all of his good judgment seemed to disappear. It’s how he got here in the first place.

Before he could stop himself, he spoke. ‘All right,’ he said in a low voice, finally placing his hands on your hips. ‘One more time.’

Without warning, Mason placed his lips on yours for the first time in what felt like an eternity. A breathless moan left your throat on instinct. You waited so long for this, to feel him again; which is why you wasted no time slipping your tongue into his mouth and pulling him closer, lacing your fingers in his hair.

Mason groaned at the touch of your tongue lapping around his; his body shivering slightly as you teased and tested his resolve. Your presence was so enticing, so intoxicating, he could feel himself losing control of the situation.

His senses filled with you and it only brought up more feelings he dared not name.

For a moment, Mason parted from your lips, trailing his mouth to your ear and below. You couldn’t help the little noises that escaped your lips as your lover bit, licked, and kissed your neck, and it wasn’t long before he was getting more and more uncomfortable in his slacks.

A wave of excitement coursed through Mason’s body as your hands undid his belt with swift motions. The room filled with sounds of your heavy breathing followed by the sounds of his belt buckle clinking as it came undone. His hands explored you, grazing your calf, grabbing your thigh, going further and further up the fabric of your dress, and feeling nothing underneath it.

You planned this. This is what you came for and he knew it.

Mason hissed when his fingers grazed along where your underwear should have been. “You’re going to kill me,” he muttered under his breath.

‘Mason..’ you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as if he could disappear at any moment.

‘Shh,’ Mason whispered into the crook of your neck, causing your skin to tingle. You could feel the deep vibrations in his chest. ‘I'm right here.’

Mason slowly moved your dress further up your thighs exposing your ass to the cool air. The sensation of his short nails pressing into the skin of your hips accompanied by his mouth finding its way back to your lips once again was intoxicating.

“I missed this.”

A shiver ran down Mason’s spine as he pulled the spaghetti strap of your dress off your shoulders, leaving your full breasts visible for him to see.

"I did too," he whispered softly, like he was afraid to admit it. You heard him suck in a breath through his teeth as he saw your uncovered chest. "So, so much." He couldn't help but grasp the soft flesh; the tent in his pants growing impossibly tighter, even with it open and undone.

He was so damned deprived, so pent-up, he didn’t realize he was sucking your tits like it was his last meal.

Even in this state, Mason knows he never should’ve let it get this far. This wasn’t part of the plan, but damn it felt good, caressing and pinching one while kissing and sucking the other one, as he always did.

Your arms supported the extra weight he was pushing against your chest as you leaned back. Biting your lips, you squirmed against his tongue on your perky nipples as you held onto his scalp.

‘Then why are you trying to leave me?’ You practically whined. Despite everything that was happening, you couldn’t let it go—let him go.

Even when he agreed to have you once more, it wasn’t enough.

‘Because you deserve better,’ he growled, his free hand squeezing your ass. ‘Someone who can give you all the attention and affection you deserve.’ His mouth kissed its way back to your neck, his lips grazing against the soft skin and leaving a trail of saliva in its wake.

‘Mason..’

‘I don't want you to get hurt,’ he continued, his voice full of emotion and longing. ‘I don't want to hurt you, I promise, but you have to understand that I'm not suited for this.’

‘Not suited for what? Affection? Love?’ Even without the extra stimulation, you couldn’t wrap your head around his words.

He was kissing you and tearing you down at the same time.

Mason is charming and intelligent. A handsome, successful footballer who makes more than enough to support himself, and anyone else he chooses to be with. He was the kind of man who turned heads and made you feel like the only woman in the world when he was with you.

Mason Mount is the definition of perfect, so what about this is so wrong?

‘I'm not capable of...those things.’ He looked up at you with pleading eyes, but still managed to kiss you before continuing to remove your dress and tossing it to the side. ‘I won't waste your time trying to pretend I can give you that. In a nutshell, we are just two people looking for some relief, and this is our avenue for doing so. That's all.’ His words were blunt but cut like a knife.

That’s all this is?

You were stunned. Before you could process his statement, he lifted you from the washing machine and gently carried you to the chair across the room where he had more space to move.

Once he sat you down, the warmth of his hands left your skin for a moment as he backed away.

You had a front-row seat watching Mason loosen his t shirt.

The lighting was dim, but you didn’t have to imagine how he looked unclothed; Every part of him was already etched into your mind. You had no shame eyeing his smooth chest, muscular arms.

His muscles flexed as he slid his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor before leaning down and positioning himself between your legs again. His hands gripped the armrests on either side of the chair, caging you in, with his face barely inches away from yours.

‘Speak. I know you want to say something.’ He was challenging you. Mason knew that whatever reason he gave you for not showing affection would never be enough.

It was your last chance to do so.

Your heartbeat betrayed you. It wasn't fair. Who was he to decide what’s best for you? You’re supposed to be angry and hurt, yet here you were falling for the same things in him once again.

‘That’s not all this has to be, Mason,’ You struggled to look anywhere but his lips.

‘You don't know what you're asking for,’ he whispered in a husky voice. ‘I can't be what you want me to be.’

Mason’s eyes wandered below your waist for a brief moment. His expression betrayed his words, not hiding how badly he wanted you. He was topless, belt unbuckled, pants unzipped, while you were under him, legs open, vulnerable, and completely naked.

This was exactly what Mason didn’t want to happen. He was drawn to you and everything he was saying to resist you felt like a lie, yet he couldn’t help but find it all so tempting. Everything you did gave him flashbacks; the looks, the sounds, smells, he was losing his cool with each passing second.

You shivered when he gripped the sides of the chair tighter.

‘And what do you think I want you to be?’ You trailed your hands down his abdomen. Mason flexed underneath your touch. Feeling him pin you against the back of the chair, you were desperate to feel more of him, impatient even.

Mason debated whether he should speak, so it started off as a whisper. ‘You want me to be yours. You want me to be your boyfriend, but I can't give you any of that. I care about you, don't get me wrong, but I can never love you the way you deserve to be loved.’

Suddenly, all the air was knocked out of your lungs. It was as if you’d been hit by a truck.

Could he truly read you that easily?

Without missing a beat, he was back to slowly trailing his mouth along your neck and shoulders, placing small kisses on the warm skin like he was kissing a wound. Unfortunately, it aided nothing; tears glossed over your eyes all the same.

Every time he hurt you, his kisses always eased the pain. They made you feel alive even when they were the very thing sucking the life out of you.

Whenever he didn’t answer your calls, or talked to another woman, and even ignored you for days on end, all it took was that damn knock that you looked forward to every week. You were addicted to him. You craved his attention, his affection, his lips. But your addiction was just that— an addiction and nothing more.

But despite all of his wrongdoings, he was just as addicted to you.

So when he pulled away, looked you in the eyes, and finished his sentence.

‘I can't give you everything…but I can give you this.’ He looked at your lips and knew exactly what he was about to do. ‘I hope this is enough.’ With his fingers under your chin, Mason leaned in and gently placed his lips on yours, knowing the damage was already done.

What could you say to that?

Yes, I want you to give yourself to me completely.

We can make this work

What if I don’t deserve to be loved?

He was right, and you knew it. There’s nothing you could say that could make this hurt any less, so you kissed him back, anyway. Even when a tear rolled down your cheek and the pain in your chest pressed against your lungs, you kissed him back. The saltiness on your lips, the same flavor as the bitterness in your heart.

You could both taste it.

Mason didn’t say anything. He just moved his hands down your thighs until he reached your knees, scooting you closer to him. And you let him. You let him move you into whatever position he wanted you in because you no longer had the energy to object.

You didn’t care to notice when he pulled down slacks and his boxers after that. You didn’t care to take in the sight of his pre-cum-leaking length, bobbing up and down and more than ready to split you in two because you didn’t have to. You’d seen it a hundred times before.

The only difference was this was the last time.

Your disheartened state wasn’t invisible to Mason. It pained him more than he expected when you didn’t even glance at him while he stripped like you did before. You didn’t squeeze your legs together or bite your lip, you just sat there, frozen.

‘If you want me to stop, just tell me,’ If only you could’ve seen the way his face fell as he kneeled in front of you to wipe away the tear he caused, only to be met by you flinching and turning your cheek before he could reach.

The message couldn’t be any clearer.

Is this how the night is going to end? He thought. Granted, he didn’t want it to come to this in the first place, but now that it had, this is how it ends? Mason wondered if this pain in his chest was how you felt every Friday; the agonizing feeling of rejection that churned in the pit of his stomach. The two of you were face to face, but you couldn’t be any further apart and he hated it but deserved it.

He doesn’t even know if he can bring it upon himself to say sorry to you again. It won’t change anything—and it certainly wouldn’t make either of you feel any less shitty—but most importantly, it just lengthened the list of the ways he failed you. So he didn’t apologize. He gave you one last sorrowful look before standing up and reaching for his clothes on the floor.

Your lips didn’t tell him you wanted to stop, but everything else did; your tears, body language, lack of eye contact, and closed-off demeanor were louder than the words you didn’t speak. Internally, you thanked him for not saying sorry— you don’t know how many more of his apologies you could take—but you panicked a little when he backed away.

You wanted him to feel your pain, but you didn’t want him to leave.

Before you even realized what you were doing, your hand caught his arm to stop his movements. You cursed yourself for not being stronger, for not cutting him off after the first he hurt you like you usually would with anyone else, but you refused to let this be your last memory of him—of both of you. And now that you had his attention, you had to speak. ‘Just go slow,’ you cleared your throat.

You didn’t even look him in the eyes as you spoke; he doesn’t deserve that.

Mason’s eyes went to his arm and the way you desperately held on to him while hiding your embarrassment; it triggered something in him. You sucked in a shaky breath when he nodded and dropped his clothes back onto the floor.

Without saying a word, he moved you back into the position he had you in before; your head resting against the back of the chair with your hanging ass off the edge, and your legs open on either side of him. Mason rested himself between your thighs, towering over you, taking in the sight of your naked body ready to be used by him .

For two people just looking for some relief, this was strangely…intimate. Other than the kissing sounds, the room was dead silent. His lips gently sucked on your neck, then your collarbone, and your breasts, before moving back up. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world and it was painstakingly sensual. You squirmed under his touch, already worked up and exhaling soft moans while he held your hips in place.

He had complete access to you.

Your cunt clenched every time he spoke in your ear, and you didn’t mean to moan when Mason moved his hand between your bodies and slid his middle and ring finger up and down your glistening slit. ‘You’re drenched,’ he sucked in a deep breath, his cock twitching, feeling your arousal coat his fingers. ‘I’m going to put it in. Is that alright?’ He adjusted himself, lining his hips up with yours.

‘Do whatever you want.’ It was clear how this was going to go. You wanted this more than you let on—you yearned for this—but deep down, you told yourself this was all out of sympathy.

In bold letters, your mind told you that Mason pitied you and he was only going to fuck you because you practically begged for it. So, you didn’t tell him to do whatever he wants in a sexy, ‘I’m giving you all control’ kind of way, you said it in a nonchalant, ‘I don’t care. Just get it over with’ kind of way. And deep down, it hurt both him and you.

Mason sighed and took himself in his hand. His forehead leaned against yours as you both watched him give his cock a few relaxed tugs. It was that feeling—that addicting feeling of his thick shaft sliding between your folds to coat himself in your slick, before pushing his tip inside of you that made you both forget everything except how badly you both needed this.

‘Shit’

You both moaned almost too loudly once he got past the head. He was big, bigger than anyone you had been with before. The first stroke was always the most painful, but you were used to him, and you were wet enough to not need any prep. He knew this.

He knew all of your sexual needs, what you could take and what you couldn’t. He knew what drove you crazy and what was too much.

Little by little, he stretched you out and you ate it up. You felt the familiar pressure radiate in your abdomen; clearly, you were out of practice and already full but you never told him to stop or wait. Mason watched your head tilt back and your jaw slack with pleasure, and used that opportunity to kiss any skin he could put his lips on.

The sight of you taking him always made his chest swell.

Mason pushed in another inch, and your hands immediately pressed against his stomach. ‘I know, baby, let me in,’ he cooed, moving your hands from his stomach and bringing them up to his mouth as he kissed the palms of your hands. His soft tone relaxed you, and without warning, he pushed in another inch.

You swear you felt his dick jump.

‘Shit —That’s it…That’s my girl.’

At some point, Mason gave you a chance to settle around him. He paused to stroke your hair or occasionally let his thumb glide over your clit to counteract the pressure before starting up again.

It was disgusting the way he controlled your emotions. He had all the knowledge of your likes and dislikes, and even now, he played into them; whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he filled you up, praising you for every inch you took, and cursing once it was finally all in.

You both sighed in relief like it was routine. Without trying, he pressed against your cervix and there was nothing you could do about it but moan and bury your face in his chest—it was music to his ears. You wanted to stay quiet, to take him and not give him the satisfaction of letting him know how good he was making you feel, but each grind against your hips made your toes curl and your grip on him tighter.

He fucked you at a slow, torturous pace, not because it felt good, but because he needed this to last. He needed to savor every tight ring of muscle he pushed through and every sound he drew from your full lips.

As much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t lie; he’d been thinking about this for weeks. Every time he was inconvenienced at work, or stressed, or had to stay at work longer than he needed to, he thought about burying himself between your thighs while you clawed at his back and begged him not to stop. He thought about releasing his stress inside of you and watching you drink it from him after he fucked your absolute brains out.

And that was just on a Tuesday.

It was like an addict’s first fix after going through withdrawals; he doesn’t remember how or why he went so long without you. The way your walls molded to his size and length, squeezing him in all the right places, and— god— don’t even get him started on your warmth. He didn’t say it, but he could feel your heartbeat between your legs before he even put it fully in.

Up until this moment, it was like you two were back in your bed. His mouth hovered over yours while your hands rested on his thighs with his cock deep in your stomach.

He wanted to taste your lips again, but you didn’t grant him that privilege. This time, boundaries were set.

Fuck buddies don’t kiss, right?

He made it abundantly clear that’s all you were, so this is all he would get. Fuck buddies don’t need to look into each other’s eyes during every stroke, and they don’t need to kiss each other on the mouth—that’s reserved for lovers, right?

So, you shut your eyes and turned your cheek when he leaned in. You could tell he didn’t expect that when his hips stuttered for a moment. Mason’s brows furrowed as he turned your chin with his index finger, but you resisted.

“Don’t be like that…kiss me.” There was hurt in his voice. Your coldness stung more than it should have. Never has Mason ever been refused, especially romantically. He called your name lovingly, still trying to turn your face towards him.

He wanted your attention and your refusing to give it to him felt like a punch in the gut.

Out of frustration, he thought about gripping your jaw and forcing himself onto your lips, simply because he could, but he knew better. Instead, he opted to comfort himself in the crook of your neck. You couldn’t stop him from nibbling on your ear or licking down the side of your neck even if you tried.

Your stifled whimpers turned into moans as Mason picked up the pace of his thrust. He wanted to get a rise out of you. You were distant, in your own little world, while Mason pumped himself in and out of you. The physical pleasure was there, but you showed him emotion.

He wondered how he could be inside of someone and still feel worlds apart.

You used you to beg him to keep going. Every chance you got, your mouth was on his, telling him every thought that came to your mind while he fucked your insides. Mason loved that you were vocal, not just because of your moans, but because he knew you’d always tell him how you felt. He looked forward to hearing what you wanted and how you wanted it, and hearing your eager fucked-out responses even when you didn’t hear what he said because you were too overwhelmed and too focused on your approaching peak.

But now, you didn’t give him any of that. You just laid there with your hands on his stomach, barely letting his chest touch yours, and barely letting yourself moan. Despite how good it felt.

‘C’mon baby, talk to me. You know I hate it when you get quiet,’ he cooed in your ear, grabbing your wrist and pushing himself further against you. ‘Tell me how good it feels…tell me you love it.’

You gasped in time with his thrusts at the extra pressure of him burrowing his dick deeper into you. Mason grunted, waiting for you to respond without stopping. ‘Fuck—Say my name, love.’ It took all your energy to keep quiet. You didn’t answer him and you still didn’t look him in the eyes.

Mason was getting desperate. Sweat dripped down his forehead at the way you were tightening around him. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. He tried so hard to get you to at least look at him—to spare him a quick glance before his inevitable release, but you’d rather focus on the walls behind him than give in to him again.

‘Damn it,’ he grunted. In one last-ditch effort to save the memory of what the two of you once were, Mason grabbed your ass and squeezed it tight, repositioning you on the chair so he could bottom out into you fully.

It wasn’t until his hands cupped the back of your knees and pushed them into your chest, did you finally look at him with wide eyes. His pelvis was now completely flush against your own, and you took it all.

‘Mason wait,’

You swear you heard him thank god when his eyes locked with yours. Your hands shot up to grab his arms and your mouth hung open against his lips as he rested his forehead on yours. ‘There you are,’ he whispered in a low voice. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t kiss you. He understood that wasn’t what you wanted anymore, but he let it be known that he still could, whether you want it or not.

It was his silent dominance that turned you on so, so much. You tried to look away again; no, you needed to look away otherwise, you’d fall back into his painful grasp. But your efforts were useless when he held you by the back of your hair to keep your head facing him. ‘Nuh-uh. Don’t shut down on me, I’m still here…I’m right here,’

He didn’t stop. The sound of skin slapping echoed throughout the building and you hated how much it turned you on. Your hands did nothing to stop his relentless pounding on your cunt; he was now in the perfect position to hit that one spot that led you to your undoing every time, and you could hardly breathe. Mason hissed when you dug your manicured nails into his biceps as he pinned you down. He felt so good it was painful.

Your hands came down in front of you to push him again and minimize the impact of his thrusts, but he held your forearms at your sides before you could protest. The sound of your sobs, along with your beautiful face contorting into one of pleasure, was enough to have him question everything he said earlier. He was so close, so close . ‘Talk to me, love,’ he grunted. ‘Tell me you don’t want me to go.’

How funny.

It was like the roles had reversed. Call it pettiness or bitterness, but you wanted him to hurt; You wanted to make him regret not choosing you because, in reality, you loved him. You wanted more—you needed more than one day out of the week. Hell, you craved him every day… but telling him that wouldn’t make a difference. Mason’s mind was made, and part of you resents him for it.

‘Please, baby…’ he stilled inside of you once both your silence and his pleasure were too much to bear, panting against your neck. His voice sounded like it was on the verge of defeat and he wondered if he had finally lost you. The heat of his breath on your skin made you shiver as your chest heaved up and down.

‘You’re a coward,’ you finally spoke.

Hearing your voice, Mason shot up from the crook of your neck to look at you. You cursed at your heartstrings when you watched his eyes light up.

‘Yes, I’m a coward.’ His hands immediately went to cup your face as if he didn’t register what you said. ‘I don’t deserve you.’ He said it so enthusiastically, placing soft, sporadic kisses all over your face; it was almost pathetic. How could you hate him when he was so happy just to hear you finally speak to him again?

‘I’m so sorry’

There’s that damn apology

For all you know, that was your breaking point. Tears welled in your eyes. ‘I should've never come here, you are an idiot Mason,’ your voice cracked. The light in Mason’s eyes didn’t fade, even as you cursed and called him out his name, hitting and scratching him, he still kissed your skin just as gently as he had before.

You choked out a shaky exhale when he went back to rolling his hips, brushing against your already bruised G-spot. You felt him grow impossibly harder inside of you.

‘Yes,’ he hissed. ‘Keep talking.’

Your eyes widened when he picked you up by your waist and held you on his pelvis. ‘No! Stop! Put me down!’ You thrashed and pushed him, but it was no use. He was already walking away from the chair and pushing you against the wall.

You went for his face, his neck, his chest, anything you could put your claws on, and Mason took the pain as he took hold of your wrists. ‘I don’t want this,’ You lied.

Mason knew it was a lie because your voice was softer as you said it, shakier, like it hurt you to say it aloud, and hurt him that you felt like you had to say it. Although he didn’t blame you. He didn’t blame you for any of this. How could he?

He watched the tears slip from the corners of your beautiful, sad eyes. ‘I hate you,’ you choked out. Your breaking voice was barely above a whisper and Mason felt his heart split in two. He always did love to hear what you had to say, even when it was painful to hear. You didn’t mean it even though it felt like you did.

You hated his unwillingness to put his fears or pride aside so you could love each other fully. You hated the hold he had on your heart, your mind, your body. You hated how good the sex was and you hated that he wouldn’t give you more than that. Most of all, you hated that this was how it would end…but you didn’t hate him.

He took your wrists that were in his hands and brought them to his lips. He did his best to comfort you and wipe your tears.

‘I know, baby,’ he cooed, stroking the hairs that stuck to your face as he kissed your tears.

He placed you on the washing machine again as it creaked as he started to move again. You were like putty in his hands, so malleable, so vulnerable. Out of all the men you’ve ever been with, Mason was the only one who had this kind of effect on you. It was unhealthy the way he made you question everything about yourself; your emotions, your sex appeal, you wanted to look good for him.

You wanted to be his

‘Don’t leave me,’ your words came out as a quiet sob and Mason could feel the lump in his throat start to form. He knew that if he spoke, all of his emotions would pour out at once, so he let your shaky hands pull him in. He let your lips graze his and your noses dance around each other.

Testing the waters, his tongue ghosted over your bottom lip as if he were asking for permission and Mason took the faint noise you made in response as an invitation. He tilted his head to his right, before closing his eyes, and finally kissing you once more. This time you didn’t turn away, and you didn’t shut him out.

The kiss was slow and tasteful, just like his strokes. Every groan he let out, every lick and nip at your bottom lip was deliberate. The deep vibrations he moaned into your mouth rang like a love letter to you; it was intimate.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach start up again like a schoolgirl kissing her crush for the first time. Your fingers laced in his hair, tugging it just hard enough to earn a growl and a calculated press against your stomach as he angled his hips upwards; a move that had both of you on the edge.

The irony of him fucking you at this tender, love-making pace when he promised that was something he couldn’t give you. ‘I'm not capable of love,’ he said . ‘You deserve someone that could give you the love you deserve,’ he said.

Was this not it?

Was this not him finally being honest with himself and realizing that maybe something official wouldn’t be so bad?

Neither of you kept track of the time, but you stayed like that for a while, moaning and grinding until your lips were swollen.

Thoughts started forming in your head. Childish daydreams of you and him eating out and going on walks, Late-night phone calls eventually turning into late conversations when you two finally moved in together, and thoughts of sleeping beside him and waking up to find him still there with the morning sun on Saturday.

You should’ve known better.

You whimpered when you felt him pull away from your lips, but the loss in contact was instantly replaced when rested his forehead against yours again, and his heavy breathing mixed with your own. You loved when he did that, the intimacy of it always made you weak.

Something in you told you he was about to speak, you anticipated it.

His voice rang in your head.

I was wrong

Come home with me

I’ll stay

but instead, you were met with a low, raspy, ‘Tell me this is enough.’

Words cannot describe how quickly your eyes snapped open and your smile fell. ‘What?’

Mason’s jaw clenched as he worked up the courage to repeat himself. ‘This…is all I can give you. I need to hear you say it…for both of our sakes.’

He’s reaching his limit.

His head was still casually, resting on yours like he didn’t just completely undermine the best minutes of your life with five words. ‘You can’t be serious,’ you give an awkward chuckle before realizing he was dead serious.

‘No!’ you spit. You shoved him back, the butterflies in your stomach quickly turned into disgust, and you were back to thrashing around under him. ‘Was that not enjoyable for you? Did I make a mistake?’

Mason shook his head as if you were inconveniencing him. ‘it’s not like that. You know it isn’t.’

‘Then what is it?!’ you yelled. ‘Mase-‘

‘Tell me this is enough…and you will be happy with this. I need you to be happy with this.’

‘I’m not!’

You tried everything. You tried kissing him again, grinding, moaning, touching, anything to reignite the flame that engulfed you mere seconds ago, but he didn’t give in. Mason practically flinched when you brought your hands up to his face again.

‘We don’t have to be together!’ you said, frantically caressing him. ‘We can stay like this. You don’t need to be mine. Just let me be yours.’ You begged him.

‘Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be,’ he pleaded.

‘How could you say that?’ Your glossy eyes scanned his face for any signs of hesitation or emotion. You looked for the light that shined in his irises whenever you spoke. It was gone, dimmed, and dull on his expressionless face.

Was he always so cold?

‘Please don’t make me say it.’ At this point, there was no use in stopping the tears from falling.

With all his might, he wanted to say it. It crawled its way from his heart to the tip of his tongue as he watched you break down because of his selfishness—his cowardice.

He wanted to tell you how much sleep he lost in the weeks he didn’t speak to you. He wanted to tell you how long he debated pressing the dial button last night because he missed the sound of your voice. He wanted to tell you he looked forward to hearing your door unlock whenever he knocked every week.

He wanted to tell you it was never about the sex.

It was the moments like the minutes after when you both laid together and talked about your week. It was the warmth of your skin as you cuddled up next to him under the sheets, and the way you pretended to stay awake and listen to him speak even though you could hardly keep your eyes open. It was when he noticed your soft breathing that indicated that you had finally fallen asleep. And every time, he would stay awake a little longer just to hold you and whisper the things he could never say out loud.

You took one long look at his face and realized this was a battle you could never win. He made up his mind and wasn’t giving you another choice.

This was truly your last moment together.

Mason laced his fingers with yours as he rocked you against the washing machine and you moaned for him, louder than you ever had before, because you wanted your voice to be etched into his mind. You licked your way into each other's mouths, memorizing the taste, and no one said anything about the tears.

You didn’t bring up the salty droplets that dripped onto your face as he kissed you—there was no need. Instead, you brushed your thumb along his cheek and wiped the wetness away, just as he did to you.

Mason’s pace quickened when you announced that you were about to come and— god— did it feel good. Without stopping, he talked you through your orgasm; telling you how pretty you looked coming on him, grunting out how you’re the best he’s ever had, and asking you if it felt good when he fucked you harder.

And you gave him those fucked out responses he loved so much. Your eyelids were low and heavy as you nodded your head numbly, letting out a series of ‘Oh god’s,’ ‘Don’t stop’s,’ and ‘Fuck, Mase. Right there.’ He was going insane.

You clenched around him as you came undone. Your legs caged him in and he thrusted into you like his life depended on it. For the last time, Mason called out your name and dug his nails into your waist, sputtering above you as you milked him from the inside.

He gave you everything he had, and you did the same.

You gave in.

This was enough

if he told you to do anything, you would’ve done it. But now, all you could do was reminisce and imagine a future where Mason wanted to be your boyfriend: a future where he asked you to stay.

#mason mount x reader #mason mount #mason mount x oc #mason mount angst #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Steve And Robin Are Stuck in A Timeloop AU

Steve's lost track of which time loop this is.

Had lost track pretty much instantly, because it turns out when people die repeatedly in front of you, it kinda takes precedence in your memory.

Besides, Robin has a list in her head, memorized via some kind of musical code, alongside all the dates and times they wake up in.

(Steve doesn't see what difference it makes if they wake up at 7:15 am the day of the Championship or 8:25 am, but Robin's insistent that even the slightest variations could mean something.)

He’ll have to ask his soulmate when he finds her though, because presently Steve has determined they're having one of their weirder loops.

Typically, when the two of them get kicked back in time, they wake up the day of the Championship game. Occasionally it will be the day right before or the day after, but sometimes?

Sometimes they’re sent back someplace, some time, that isn’t related to 1986 at all.

Thus far, the Starcourt loop had been the worst.

("If it happens a third time I'm killing myself." Steve had told Robin after they’d failed that one.

Robin didn’t even look at him, the two of them huddled up together in Steve’s bed. "No you're not Dingus, not without shooting me first."

"How come I have to shoot you!? Is it because I'm a man? That's not very feminist of you."

"No its because you've seen me shoot, I would miss!")

Steve had even woken up in an odd place. Not his bed or the couch, but the driver's seat of the Beamer, seated in the high school parking lot.

It made him immediately uneasy.

The chair is reclined all the way back, the mass of cars indicating it was a school day. Steve struggled to recall when he's ever taken a nap in his car as he got out of it, trying to decide how he wanted to go about things.

Felt his pocket and was surprised to find it full of a packet of smokes.

The sheer implication of that had him pulling out a cig and lighting it before the knowledge that he'd officially quit buying his own cigarettes in 1985 sank in.

Panicked and chainsmokes three, before deciding his best course of action was his usual one.

Find Robin.

Which of course means that he found Eddie instead.

xxx

He’d started his first lap, walking out if the parking lot and round to the more shaded, empty parts of the building when a voice he knew yelled.

The kind of yell he’d grown intimately familiar with, the one Eddie used when he was terrified and using anger to hide it.

Steve turns automatically, following the taunts and loud, pained breathing until he finds a handful of jocks encircling the metalhead. He's down on one knee, snarling like a wildcat caught in a trap while some guy Steve barely recognizes holds him by the hair, laughing.

Red coats his vision instantly, and any thoughts Steve had about being stuck in time (sort of) vanish from his mind entirely.

The world shrinks down, to that white knuckled grip on Eddie's hair, the way it’s pulling the older boy’s face up so that Steve can see the straining muscles in his throat.

The protective creature that lives in his chest and likes to punch it’s way out of problems awakens, and a thrum goes through Steve as he feels its demand for blood.

"Hey fellas " Steve calls joyfully, striding directly into the crowd. "What’re we doing?"

Two part before him like fish seeing a shark,and a faraway inner voice identifies them as members of the swim team.

Which likely meant the other two were football players, and for all the tackling they did they were surprisingly easy to scare, if you knew how to play it right.

Steve absolutely knew how to play it right.

"Fuck off Harrington. This isn't your business." The one holding Eddie's hair spits.

"Well that would be where you're wrong." Steve was still keeping things conversational as he positioned himself, arms nice and loose at his sides. He lets the thing that lives inside him, who made him turn right back around all those years ago and charge back into the Byers house, out a little more. Feels the need to protect, to save, to destroy the things that are his, fuel him. "Seeing as all of Eddie's business is my business."

Eddie stares up at him, wide eyed at the declaration.

Feeling entirely out of control of his body, Steve sends him a wink.

"Since when!?" The other football player asks.

"Since now." Steve declares cheerfully--and then smiles.

It isn’t a nice smile.

Thoroughly unnerved, his swim team members shrink back. He’ll have words for them later if he has time--Steve can't ever recall the swim team members being dicks but who fucking knows.

His memory wasn't the best before he and Robin got stuck in time.

"You fucking into drugs now or wha--" Their ringleader, still holding onto Eddie by the hair, doesn't get to finish his sentence.

Mostly because his mouth is too busy catching Steve's fist.

Fighting, he knows, is something he does best when it's too the death and he's armed with something.

Bonus points if his opponent is a horrific monster from another dimension.

He has gotten better though, and here the rapid pace he sets feels almost too easy.

The first guy goes down on the ground before the rest pick up on it, giving Eddie time to lurch backwards as Steve turns and torpedoes into the next jock.

This one gets in a good shot--Steve staggers with a blow to his side but it's not enough to wind him. He keeps to his feet and advances, delivering one more punch before the swim team guys are trying to call him off.

"Come on man, you're gonna kill them!"

Steve almost laughs-- he hasn't come close to killing either idiot-- but backs away, keeping himself between them and Eddie.

They wave their hands, getting ahold of their bloodied friends as they slowly ease between them and Steve. Make apologizes and promises that it was a poor joke, Munson just got to them, hot heads you know?

Steve snarls at them to fuck off, and glares until they're gone.

"What the hell just happened?" Eddie asks him, and Steve turns to find him on his feet, leaning heavily against the brick wall of the school.

As far as he can get away from Steve.

"Our football quarterback can't hit for shit." Steve informs him, having finally placed an least one of the guys. "It's probably why we always lose."

Eddie gives him such a freaked out face it almost makes him laugh a second time.

The effect isn't helped by the fact that Eddie's normally long mane is hovering just over his shoulders, the curls somehow poofier than normal. Clearly he’s still trying to grow it out, but it just makes him look like one of those frazzled dogs.

Adorable.

On instinct Steve reaches out to playfully pull a few strands, then freezes when Eddie flinches from him.

"Sorry." He keeps his hands up, as he takes in Munson's face. "Shit dude, he got your nose good."

There's blood smeared under it, and given the look of the skin surrounding it?

Eddie's gonna have an impressive bruise soon enough.

Steve gets a glare sent his way. "Why do you care?" Eddie spits, back very much still up, and-- right.

Right.

Time travel.

"I'm really bad at explaining it." Steve warns, running a hand through his hair. He did this part plenty without Robin (meeting Eddie that was--Robs usually tackled Nancy.) But he also typically did in it 1986, and with at least three of the kids, not whenever they currently were.

"We usually start with facts only you'd know, but I don't actually know when I am right now." He finishes, and realizes immediately that it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

"When you are?" Eddie asks, because of course he clocks that part immediately.

"Ye--eah." Steve says, dragging out the word.

He looks at Eddie desperately, like the metalhead will tell him the exact information he needs.

Eddie just stares back.

"Look, it sounds really stupid when you say it out loud." Steve says finally, because fuck, it does!

"Comparable to all the other times you talk out loud?" Eddie snips, voice full of venom.

"Shut up.” Steve replies automatically, but his tone holds no heat. He’s too used to trading banter with Eddie that is friendly. “I'm gonna preface this by saying I can prove it."

"Oh wow preface. Such a big word for you! Did Nancy Wheeler teach you that one?"

"Robin actually." Then, "Nancy?"

The look Eddie gives him could melt steel beams. "Yeah man. Nancy Wheeler. Your girlfriend."

"Oh--oh god." Steve says, because that means they're way back. Possibly to the beginning.

Or worse, before he and Nancy had broken up.

"I can’t handle that breakup a second time." He says wide eyed, the panic gripping him for a second. “I could-no, no I could get Robin to tell her!”

Because that sure would work.

Steve can just imagine it now. Robin, sauntering up to Nancy and going ‘Hey, we really haven’t met yet but you’re gonna dump Steve, if you haven’t already and to cut through all the drama, I’m here to just tell you on his behalf that it’s over. What was that? A coward? Why yes, he is one!’

You know, provided she didn’t just laugh in his face and then cuff him over the head when she realized he was being serious.

“Dude.” Eddie says, sinking a world’s worth of judgment into the single syllable.

“Yeah, you’re right, bad call.” Steve says, and whatever Eddie was expecting it clearly wasn’t that.

“Are you on drugs right now?” Eddie finally asks when Steve reverts back to looking to him as if he’s going to help. A bad habit, and one Steve knows he needs to stop doing.

Even if Eddie, in the original timeline and every one after they got him on board, eventually becomes someone Steve can rely on like that.

“You can tell me if you are, man, you know I won’t judge.” The hateful air around him is fading into something more confused, and then into something else entirely. The persona Eddie pulls when he’s hurt and trying to hide it with jokes and rants. “Unless you and your buddies bought from someone that wasn’t me, in which case I get exclusive rights to judge.”

He’s shifting as he finally stands up off the wall, and Steve doesn’t miss how he hugs one hand to a rib.

Shit.

He needs to get Eddie up to speed and he needs to do it fast.

Steve sighs and just starts listing Eddie Munson Facts like an unprepared kid who was called on in class.

"Okay, so your uncle collects mugs, right? And--fuck I don't know when you get all the tattoos,” Steve makes a vague gesture around his chest, “but you have bats on your arm and you gave them all names."

Eddie's eyes pop wide again, jaw slacking as Steve volleys off a few more Munson Facts.

"You have this weird fear about red ribbon necklaces because of a book you read in third grade, your first guitar has this giant ugly--sorry dude, but you cannot write legibly to save your life, 'This machine slays dragons' quote across it and--oh!"

He was so fucking stupid. The answer was literally staring at him in the face, dangling around Eddie's neck.

Steve snapped his fingers excitedly. "The guitar pick on your neck is your moms!"

Eddie’s mouth open and closes like a fish, long enough that the smile slowly slides off of Steve’s face.

"How the fuck do you know all that?" He manages after a long, tortuous moment, looking like he’d been sucker punched.

Again.

With the most pained look his face can manage, Steve finally answers. "Time travel."

Eddie blinks.

Then blinks again.

"Time travel." He echoes faintly.

"Yeah. I'm from 1986, where things kinda got really fucked up."

"No kidding?" Eddie says, right before he erupts into giggles.

"Did they get you in the head?" Steve asks, abruptly concerned, as Eddie collapses back against the wall in a growing fit of laughter.

Concussed Eddie was not a road he wanted to go down but Steve knew better than anyone what happens if you ignore such things.

"I think my weed just hit." Eddie explains as he wipes away a tear, and Steve wants to shake him, but knows it won't get him anywhere.

"That's great. That's just great." He grumbles, hands going onto his hips. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To get you a bandage. And then find Robin.”

Robin, Steve decided, could handle a high, concussed Eddie.

#I do write more than pre steddie #but some days it doesnt feel like it #not even gonna lie this not-fic was just an excuse to write six million meet cutes #steddie #pre steddie #time loop au #stranger things #Eddie Munson #steve harrington #drug mention #hurt/comfort #sorta

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mrsriddlenott · 9 months

Text

I just had this random thought of AngryBF!Harry x Fem!reader where she helps him through his anger in many ways.

masterlist

Warnings: Smut. Anger. Aggressive Sex. Regular 5th year “angst”.

“I just can’t get a break. I went all summer without a scrap of news, I’m behind on all my class work, and now Ron and Hermione seem to think I’m a bloody DADA teacher.” You and Harry sat on the edge of his bed as Harry held his head in his hands ranting. “It was all luck, why cant they get that. It’s not like I have any control over my life and when I’ll be attacked next.”

You and Harry had only been dating since the Yule Ball but were serious nonetheless. When he would need comfort after the death of Cedric Diggory and when no one could properly owl him, you were there. You were the guide that kept him from making too much of a scene, but with Umbridge pushing Harry every second with detention after detention, and denying every part of what happened last year, Harry was on edge even with you.

“Harry, you have to see where they’re coming from don’t you?”

“Not you too! Merlin of all people I thought you’d understand y/n!” Harry snapped often these days, you knew it wasn’t necessarily his words, you just wished he could calm down.

“I do understand Harry, but if I’m not going to be of any help, I’ll just go.”

“No y/n/n, you know thats not what I meant. I just can’t get even a bit of control anymore and it’s driving me mad.” And with that, you suddenly had an idea.

“Well, I can think of ways you can gain control cant you?” At the change in your tone Harry finally lifted his head to see you.

“What are you implying Darling?” His narrowing eyes were already dark with anger and he seemed unable to focus.

“Well I was thinking, next time you’re all strung out like this, you can always come to me. Don’t sit and yell at Umbridge just to get stuck in detention when you could be spending your time with me, Love.”

“Yeah, I like that idea y/n” Harry didn’t take a second to think it over as he seemed to light up with a bright smile, already over his prior annoyances.

At first it wasn’t anything inappropriate, after classes Harry would often storm into your dorm or pull you into his, already yelling about a DA meeting or something Snape or Umbridge did. You’d simply talk and cuddle until he was okay. Eventually Harry realized just how distracting kissing you was and before long would have you pinned to a wall with his lips on your neck at least once a week. When he had noticed how exhilarating it felt to be able to grab you from anywhere in the castle and drag you to his dorm just because he was mad, he simply couldn’t stop. He absolutely adored when you’d let go of control just for him.

And thats how you ended up here, on hands and knees in front of your very angry boyfriend.

“No one ever fucking listens, no one lets me speak…except you of course, hands.” His voice softened as he spoke directly to you. While you laid your hands on your naked back, laying yourself forward onto his bed, Harry took both your hands in one of his as the other lined himself up at your entrance, slowly letting his tip ease into you.

“I have less and less time for myself, I just want to be able to do what I want whenever I want,” Without warning Harry slammed into you fully, pushing himself forward and resting his bare chest on your back, lips next to your ear as he spoke, “That’s you of course.”

“Are you okay still? You remember what to say if you don’t want to continue, yes?” You nodded your head from where it was on his pillow, “Words Darling.”

“Yes, I say Snitch.” You were breathless already as you uncontrollably clenched around him, forcing a sharp sigh from the boy above you.

“Good girl” Harry whispered as he started an unrelenting pace, straightening himself and pushing your abdomen down with his hand on yours.

“You’re perfect y’know that? Bloody perfect stress reliever you are.” He laughed softly as his free hand roamed up and down your side.

He was pounding into you so hard his bed shook and the curtains began to part on their own. The sound of wet skin slapping together and your moans of Harry’s name filled the room.

He drove into you with force you had never felt before, he was quickly forcing you into your orgasm as his pace remained fast and hard against your g-spot.

“Fuck I wann- Ahh Fuck y/n I wanna look at you when I come.” Harry released your hands and held your waist tightly as he flipped you around plowing himself back in as if he never left.

Harry smoothed the hair off your sweaty forehead, keeping eye contact and smiling softly, before bending down to kiss you aggressively on the lips. His and your own moans being drowned by each others lips as he came inside you, your juices mixing as they slid out around him.

“Fuck, I’ve needed this all week,” Harry sighed breathlessly as he rested his head on your chest, not making any attempt of pulling out. As he yawned, you slipped your fingers through his messy hair smiling and breathing heavily, “I love you Harry”

“I love you too Darling”

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#harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter x reader #smut #harry potter smut #harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter x y/n #y/n #harry potter oneshot

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starlightkun · 3 months

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➠ word count: 4.6k ➠ warnings: cursing, vomiting, depictions of illness, hospital settings, etc. (but he gets better! i prommy!) ➠ genre: fluff, a touch of hurt/comfort, suggestive? (i mean they’re mentioned to shower together but it’s in a very tender caretaking sort of way, it's a ‘you cannot perform this task of hygiene and i love you and will assist you in performing this vital task’ sort of thing), established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after 27JSC, before garbage goal) ➠ extra info: the title is directly lifted from the title of this academic article on pubmed that came up in some googling i was doing for this fic the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i did NOT expect this to turn into a literal series but these two have rlly captured my lil heart tbh. i’m obsessed with them. they’re in love. i’m not sorry and i will not pretend to be in order to be cute on the internet. anyway enjoy 🫶 ➠ series masterlist

The utter relief that you felt having Sungchan home again was a feeling unparalleled. Having him home, in his own clothes, in your bed, holding you and laughing at something stupid he’d just said but thought was the funniest thing ever—that was the most you’d ever loved someone, you decided.

Stirring slightly in the middle of the night, you were aware of being uncomfortable, hot, and sweaty under all your sheets, blankets, and boyfriend.

“Mmh,” you groaned, pushing at Sungchan, who was of course passed out on top of you like you were the mattress. “Channie, off. ‘m too hot.”

He readjusted slightly, but just grabbed you to pull you to his front like the cuddle monster he was. You were now acutely aware of your clothes sticking to your back and chest.

“No, let go.” You grabbed at his arms. “Come on, Channie, aren’t you hot too?”

He suddenly vaulted himself out of bed, throwing the sheets and blankets off of him in a mad dash towards the bathroom. You sat up in bed, blearily watching him in confusion until he kneeled down at the toilet and you finally put the pieces together, hurrying in after him and turning on the light on your way in.

He didn’t have any hair to hold back from his face as he emptied his stomach, so you mainly rubbed his back through his damp t-shirt. With the bathroom lights on, you were able to see that the front and back of his white shirt were entirely soaked with sweat, his face pink and sweat-sheened, and his hair stuck to his forehead. His whole body radiated with an unnatural heat as you sat beside him, coaching and comforting him through it as he gripped the toilet bowl with white knuckles.

When it seemed like he had gotten to a pause in his retching, you coaxed his head up away from the opening, then flushed it. Grabbing some toilet paper from the roll hanging next to you, you bundled up enough to wipe around his mouth and nose, then tossed that into the bowl as well as the water was still draining.

“We…” He stopped to cough, then spit into the toilet. “We ate the same stuff last night… Why aren’t you…”

“Baby, I don’t think this is food poisoning,” you replied, moving his hair off his forehead to press the back of your hand there. “I think you’re sick.”

“But my immune system is so good! I haven’t even gotten a cold in like five years! I got my flu shot two weeks ago!”

“I know, I was there holding your hand.”

His whining was cut off by more puking, and you continued to soothe him through it.

“Channie, you can’t send this.” You shook your head, reading over his email to his research head again.

“But I have to… to tell him why I can’t come in,” Sungchan reached for his phone from your hands.

“Baby, this is gibberish.” You held the phone away from his grabby hands so you could delete the nonsense email and exit out of the app before setting it on his nightstand. “You go back to sleep, I’ll call the lab for you, okay?”

He sighed, laying back down in bed and closing his eyes. “Okay… don’t take too long… miss you…”

“And he’s out,” you commented to yourself fondly.

It was quick work to look up the office line on the university’s website, and you took the call in the living room as he napped in your room. Hearing the click of it being picked up first, it was answered by an older-sounding, stern man.

“Yoon Taekyung.”

“Hi, Dr. Yoon, this is Y/L/N Y/N, I’m—”

“Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, yes, Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.” You laughed nervously, caught off-guard. You’d never met Sungchan’s research head before.

“Jung talks about you a lot. I don’t stalk my PhD candidates online, in case you were wondering.”

“No, I wasn’t, but thank you for clarifying,” you chuckled. “Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you, but unfortunately Sungchan has a stomach bug and is not going to be able to come in for a few days. He had typed up his own email to you but when I proofread it… you could tell the fever was boiling his brain.”

“I would have appreciated the laugh,” Dr. Yoon said dryly. “We certainly don’t want Jung bringing any outside germs into the microbiology lab. Keep him home.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Yoon.”

Having already finished your master’s degree, you didn’t have any professors to email about missing class today. It was a Friday, and you weren’t scheduled to work all weekend, so you were free to stay home and take care of Sungchan.

Walking back into your bedroom, you stopped next to Sungchan’s side of the bed, pressing your hand to his forehead. He really was burning up.

His eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled something that sounded like your name.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here,” you reassured him, stroking his head. “Go back to sleep, I’m going to make you something to eat, okay?”

His eyes closed again, and you gave his head one last gentle pat.

Poking your head back into the bedroom some time later, you were pleasantly surprised to see Sungchan awake again, scrolling on his phone.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” You walked over, grabbing the thermometer off his nightstand.

“Mm… great,” he groaned, setting his phone down.

“Liar.” You held the thermometer out. “Open.”

He pouted up at you with the thermometer sticking out of his mouth as the two of you waited. It beeped, and you took it back, frowning as you read the display.

“I don’t like that…” You sighed, taking a picture of it with your phone. “I’m going to text your mom. How’s your tummy?”

“Fine…”

“You think you can eat? I made some food.”

“Sure, sure, yeah.”

“Okay, be right back, Channie.” You kissed his hair.

In the kitchen, you hurriedly opened your text conversation with Sungchan’s mom. She was a family medicine doctor, and you’d been updating her on how her son was doing throughout the day.

[you: attached image]

[you: his fever keeps going up, even after the meds he took this morning. no more puking so far]

As you spooned out small portions of dishes, loaded them up on a tray, and reheated a mug of some tea you’d prepared earlier, you continued texting back and forth with Dr. Jung.

[dr. jung: Give him another dose of the acetaminophen. If it keeps going up take him to urgent care]

[you: will do, thank you. he’s about to try to eat some lunch. wish us luck!]

[dr. jung: Good luck sweetheart]

Tucking your phone away, you grabbed the tray of food to take back in to Sungchan. He had pushed himself up against the headboard, letting you set the tray down on his lap. Putting the now steaming mug on the nightstand, you started pointing to everything.

“Ginger tea, and easy tummy foods. Some rice, soup, crackers, and for dessert—” You pulled out a small package from the pocket of your hoodie.

He gasped softly. “Chocolate biscuits…”

“Chocolate biscuits,” you confirmed, setting them on the tray table then stroked his hair gently. “I’m going to go clean up the kitchen then I’ll come sit with you. Holler if you need me before then, okay?”

He grabbed your hand before you could get too far, his skin burning hot against yours. “Hey. Thank you.”

“Anything for my Sungchannie,” you smiled, gently swinging your linked hands where they hung in the air. “Small bites, and don’t force anything down, okay? You’ll only throw it back up if you do that.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And how are you on water?” You picked up the water bottle on his nightstand with your free hand, shaking it. “Eh, half. I’ll refill it for you, too. Be back in a sec.”

After putting the leftovers away and refilling his water, you shook out a couple more tablets of acetaminophen and brought both of them back with you.

“Here.” You placed them on the table next to him. “Your mom says to take another dose, and if your fever keeps going up then we’ll have to take you to urgent care.”

He nodded, thankfully opting not to talk with food in his mouth. You scooted back into bed next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he slowly picked at his food.

“Good food, baby, thank you,” he sniffled, taking a sip of his tea. “I mean, my nose is so stuffed up I can’t taste most of it, but it’s still good.”

You chuckled, patting his chest. “Thanks, Channie.”

“Are you sure you should be sitting so close to me? I don’t want to get you sick too.”

“We live together, I’m either going to get sick or I won’t. It’s not like I’m asking you to spit in my mouth or anything,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, right now.”

Before you could even make a retort, he suddenly careened forward in a fit of violent coughs, and you surged to first steady the tray table so he didn’t knock the liquids everywhere. After moving it off his legs and onto an unoccupied area of the mattress, you rested a hand on his back as he continued coughing, wincing sympathetically at how painful they sounded. Finally, he stopped coughing, and paused to catch his breath.

“Mm… I think you should keep your loogies to yourself for now, Channie,” you tutted. “Drink some water.”

Setting his water bottle back down, he blinked slowly. “Ugh… that hurt.”

“Do you want the food back? Or are you done?”

He shook his head. “I’m done. Don’t want anything coming back up.”

“I’ll put it in the fridge in case you get hungry later.”

You had just closed the fridge when you heard retching sounds from your bathroom.

It was almost two hours later before the two of you left the cold tile floor of your bathroom. There were impressions of the grout in your knees and your joints ached from the unforgiving, hard flooring. And it was only to get Sungchan to sit on the equally hard, cold, tile floor of the shower under a lukewarm stream of water—you were afraid of making it too hot with how high his fever already was, and he whimpered like the water was hurting him if it was too cold. With how much fever-sweating he’d been doing since the wee hours of the morning, you could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for him (you yourself still hadn’t had the chance to sneak in a quick shower since being awoken in sweat that morning either). Not even to mention just all the puke that the both of you had been around.

You knelt behind him to very gently work some shampoo through his hair, then tilted his chin up with your hand to direct his head back into the spray and rinse out the suds. You used your other hand to block his eyes from any stray shampoo that may accidentally run down into them. With his hair off his forehead, you could catch a glimpse of a light scar, from taking a puck directly to the face your senior year of college, soon after you started dating. You’d taken care of him then, warned him to be careful when washing his hair, and he’d joked about having you do it for him. You couldn’t help but run a finger over it lightly.

After finishing up washing his hair, you reached behind you to blindly fumble for the handle and turn the spray off. It was a bit dicey getting the two of you to stand up in the confined space with Sungchan’s less-than-optimal coordination at the moment, and you toweled the both of you off in the bathroom quickly.

Back in new clothes, you let him fall into bed as you appraised the nightstand. “Did you take the meds before you threw up? I don’t— Oh, there they are.”

You grabbed them from behind the water bottle, nudging Sungchan’s shoulder. “Baby, you can take a nap after you take these, okay? They’re going to help your fever.”

“Uh?” He squinted one eye open, then dropped his mouth open. You placed the tablets on his tongue, then held the straw up to his lips. He swallowed with minimal difficulty, then dropped his head back down to the pillow.

You crawled into bed too, curling up behind him and throwing an arm over his middle. Sungchan groaned and shifted in place.

“Are you warm?” You asked quietly. “I’ll scooch if you’re too warm.”

“No,” he whined, grabbing at the blankets and pulling them up higher. “Cold… ‘n everything hurts, baby. My head hurts, my throat hurts, my stomach hurts, my muscles hurt from throwing up so much. Everything hurts.”

“My Sungchannie.” You scooted in closer to him, burying your face in his neck. “I’m sorry… I wish it didn’t hurt, baby. I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it stop for you.”

“I’m going to take a nap, I think…” He sniffed.

“I think that’s a good idea.” You kissed his shoulder. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, baby boy.”

“That’s it, we’re going to the urgent care,” you declared with a shake of your head, looking at the most recent temperature readout on the thermometer. Up again.

Despite all of Sungchan’s grumbling about not being that sick, you still managed to get him into the car and to the doctor, keeping a wary eye on him as you took all of your turns very carefully and accelerated and braked as smoothly as possible so that he hopefully wouldn’t vomit all over your car interior as well. After staying in the waiting room for an agonizing amount of time, you two finally went back.

The doctor took one look at Sungchan’s vitals, and you explained just how many times he’d thrown up in less than twelve hours, before deciding to admit him.

You had been asked to step out of his room for the moment, and walked up and down the long hallway, continuing to update his mom.

[you: he just got admitted. doctor says he probably just needs fluids and something stronger to bring the fever down but wants to keep him overnight for observation]

[dr. jung: Who’s his attending?]

[you: dr. chen]

[dr. jung: Oh good. He’s good, our Sungchan’s in good hands. I’ll be by after clinic closes.]

[you: thanks, i’ll let him know you’re coming]

A nurse left Sungchan’s room then, and you perked up as the older man seemed to be walking towards you.

“I’m so sorry, miss, this is going to sound weird,” he began with a sheepish smile. “But has your husband been on TV?”

“Oh, uh, boyfriend…” You corrected him distractedly, way more focused on said boyfriend. “And uhm, not exactly. Why?”

“He just looks very familiar.”

You thought for a second, then suggested, “Do you like hockey?”

“Yes, my wife and I have season passes for the local university’s team’s home games.”

“Sungchan played for the Raptors a couple years ago.”

“Oh! I was wondering why the name was so familiar too…”

“Sorry, did you need something from me?”

“Yes, I need to put his IV in, uhm, but he’s asking for you…”

You nodded. “Yeah, he has a fear of needles. Shouldn’t that be in his chart or whatever somewhere?”

“We just have the records from the urgent care doctor who sent him up here, sorry,” the nurse admitted. “But I’ll make a note of it.”

Following the nurse in, you saw that Sungchan was all by himself, and had to bite your lip at the image of him already hooked up by wires to a bunch of other machines. He still smiled when he saw you, though.

“Hey, baby…” he held his hand out towards you, and you took it, giving it a squeeze.

“Hi. Heard you were asking for me.”

“Thought you might feel left out if I got a needlestick and you weren’t here.”

“Yeah, it’s my favorite hobby, watching you get pricked over and over,” you replied sarcastically.

“Which arm?” The nurse asked.

“The right. He’s a lefty,” you answered immediately.

He looked between you and Sungchan for a moment.

“What she said,” Sungchan confirmed.

As the nurse prepared his arm for the IV, you distracted him on his other side.

“So, I was texting your mom in the hallway,” you told him. “She said she’s going to come by after the clinic closes. She also knows your attending, says you’re in good hands, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, that’s good.” He suddenly squeezed your hand tight.

You rushed to find another topic and keep talking, “Also, I have to tell you about this new book I was reading. Really, it was a collection of short stories, but you know how I am with those. God, it’s incredible. It’s like surrealism, and sort of psychological horror, and some of them toe in body horror, but also magical realism, but all of them sort of explore like womanhood and societal expectations of women and that kind of thing. They’re so fantastic. There’s one about a teenage girl who just starts eating birds one day. Like, live birds, the kind of birds you’d keep as a pet. Feathers and all. She’s not actually the POV character, though, you get to follow her dad as he tries to take in this change and adjust and acclimate to it as his otherwise normal teen daughter has to consume live birds while his estranged wife tries to convince him to just accept it and that it’s really not that bad. And obviously that can be a metaphor for how fathers—”

“Done.” The nurse announced. “Dinner’s in an hour, Mr. Jung. Buzz if you need anything before then.”

“I think you freaked him out with your ‘eating live birds and scaring your dad is a metaphor for being a teen girl’ story, baby,” Sungchan chuckled.

“But it is!” You defended yourself. “And it’s so good, really!”

“I’m sure it is.” He scooted over in the tiny bed to make a little bit of room, then patted the empty space he’d just created. “Want my girl to tell me all about it.”

You clambered up next to him, still with one foot hanging off the bed to let both of you fit, but just all too happy to be with him again.

Just a little while later, and the nurse was poking his head back into Sungchan’s room. Dr. Jung paused the funny story she had just been telling from her seat on the small recliner next to the bed, and all three of you looked over at the newcomer.

The nurse focused his apologetic eyes on you, “Miss, I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”

“Oh.” You looked around awkwardly, starting to get up from the bed. “Sorry, I thought he was allowed to have one person stay overnight.”

“Spouses and immediate family only, I’m sorry.”

“That’s fi—”

“No, we’re married,” Sungchan insisted, grabbing your hand. “It’s fine, she can stay.”

“Sir…” He trailed off, clearly debating about whether or not he wanted to just outright call Sungchan a liar.

“Channie, I told him earlier we were dating,” you informed your boyfriend quietly. “It’s fine, I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Baby…” He sighed.

“It’ll be okay, Channie, I’ll be back tomorrow,” you promised him, grabbing your go bag off the floor and hoisting it onto your shoulder. “You just worry about resting and getting better for me, okay?”

“I’ll walk you out, sweetheart,” his mom offered kindly, standing up as well.

“Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Channie,” you leaned down to drop a peck on his forehead. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He continued to keep a deathly tight grasp on your hand. “I love you too.”

You gave his hand one final pat before regretfully, gently shaking him off and walking out of the room. Dr. Jung slowly meandered down the hall with you.

“I’ll be there, in case they have to inject him, or draw blood, or anything else,” she reassured you.

“Right, thank you,” you nodded, looking down at your feet. “Has he always been afraid of needles? He never really talks about it with me, it’s just one of those things. I go with him for his shots, blood draws, all that.”

“Since he was a kid. He used to run from the room crying. We at least wanted him to be able to handle it on his own by the time he was an adult, even if it wasn’t comfortable.”

“He gives me my monthly injection now, the one I take for my migraines. Did you know that?”

“Really?” She did sound surprised at this tidbit of information.

“Pretty much since we started dating, yeah. Still wants me to go with him for his shots but…”

“It’s different when you’re the one being stuck.”

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You pressed the down button on the elevator. “Usually I’m the one that has something wrong with me and he’s taking care of me. It’s so… it doesn’t feel right, seeing him like that.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She rubbed your arm. “But he’s strong, he’s healthy. I’m sure they’ll discharge him tomorrow to go back home with you.”

“Of course.”

“Now you go home and take care of that migraine that’s been coming on for the last fifteen minutes.”

You looked up at her with one eye open, shrugging. “Well, I don’t know if it’s a full migraine…”

“You’re squinting at the lights, sweetheart. Go home so you can take your meds, okay?”

The elevator dinged just then, the doors opening on your floor.

“Okay, thank you.” You gave her a tired, but genuinely grateful smile as you stepped onto the elevator. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You spent that night going through your first migraine alone in almost two years, curled up on Sungchan’s side of the bed in one of his huge hoodies, feeling like your head was exploding. But that wasn’t even the reason that you were crying.

In the morning, you were awake before visiting hours opened back up, and despite your instinct to drive to the hospital and wait in the parking lot, you pulled yourself into the shower instead. You didn’t have a lot of time nor mobility for your own shower routine yesterday, and were in desperate need of a good thorough clean and refresh now. After eating some of the leftovers you made the day before, you packed up a small to-go meal for Dr. Jung as well, unsure of how good the cafeteria food was there. She had given you an update during the night that his fever had finally broken, then another once she woke up that he slept through the rest of the night fine, and was still resting as of her text.

By the time you got to the hospital, it was open for daytime visitors, and you were let in with no issues. You’d let Dr. Jung know when you were on your on way, and she was standing outside the door to his room when you arrived.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she smiled, giving you a hug. “How’s your head?”

“Fine,” you waved off her concerns, reaching into your bag to grab the container of food you’d packed. “Brought you breakfast. Wasn’t sure what they were serving downstairs…”

She accepted it gratefully. “Thank you. Now: How’s your head?”

“Last night kind of sucked,” you admitted. “And I’ve got a rebound headache, but I’ll be fine. We don’t need to tell Channie right now, though. He’ll just worry too much and he won’t get better. How’d you sleep? That recliner looked pretty comfy.”

“Would’ve slept better, except he snores like a freight train,” she scoffed. “How you get any sleep is beyond me.”

You let out a round of genuine laughter at that. “He doesn’t usually. Must be the congestion.”

“Must be.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’m going to take my breakfast downstairs. He’s awake, been asking when you’d be here.”

“Thank you.” You gave her one last fleeting hug before hurrying in.

Sungchan already looked better than yesterday, still tired, but not as deathly pale as before, with no sheen of fever-sweat over his skin. He really just looked… tired.

“Good morning, Channie,” you said breathlessly, setting your bag down. “Heard your fever broke last night. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, baby.” He reached out for your hand. “I’m feeling a lot better. I wish I could’ve made my girl breakfast this morning…”

“You can make me double breakfast after you come home.”

“And what’s double breakfast?”

“Guess you’ll have to figure that out.”

“Breakfast and breakfast for dinner.”

“Sounds pretty good to me.”

He looked up at you with a thoughtful frown on his face, reaching out to gently touch his fingertips to your cheek. “Are you okay, baby? You’re not feeling sick now too, are you?”

“I’m fine, baby. Just a bit tired. I’ll sleep like a baby once I have my Sungchannie back home with me.” You mustered as big of a smile as you could, squeezing his hand.

“I’ve got to get better quick then, can’t have—” he was cut off by loud, violent coughs, throwing his arm up to cover his mouth with his elbow. You rubbed his back as he continued coughing, and he reached for the bedside table. Handing him a couple of tissues from the box sat there, he spat out some of the mucus that had come up, and you used a few more fresh tissues to grab it and throw it away without complaint.

Returning to his side, you continued rubbing his back as he caught his breath. When he started slowly easing back into his bed, you took your hand away and grabbed his cup of water to give him.

“Here.”

He took a few sips before handing it back, and you took his hand again.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat. “Before I was so rudely interrupted by my own phlegm: I can’t have my girl all alone in a cold bed at night…”

You laughed, feeling the smitten smile on your face as you looked down at him. “There is some horndog switch in you that gets flipped when you’re unwell, I swear. Scientists need to study you.”

“I’m a scientist, remember?”

“You study a disease in one kind of fish,” you pointed out. “I mean like… sexologists or something. If those exist.”

“They do.”

“Well they’re missing out on… something here.” You gestured to him.

He half-laughed and half-coughed, which devolved into another full coughing fit. After recovering, he said, “Anyway, once my doctor rounds again and checks me out, he’ll be able to say if I can be discharged today or if he wants to keep me another night.”

“Fingers crossed.”

You suddenly rolled over to lay on top of him, pressing your face to his chest, wrapping your arms around him, and throwing your leg over him. He let out a slightly punched-out noise at the unexpected force of your affections, but nevertheless readjusted to wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, baby… Everything okay?” His throat was still hoarse, and he let out a half-cough half-throat clearing noise between his sentences. He added jokingly, “I’m not going to float away, you know?”

“I never want you to leave again,” you mumbled into his clothes. “Never. Never ever.”

“Okay, yeah,” his voice softened, one of his hands cradling the back of your head and stroking your hair. “I’ll never leave, ever again.”

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#sungchan x reader #riize x reader #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #sungchan #sungchan imagine #riize imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct imagines #jung sungchan #i: sungchan #f: onsaom #s: buzzer beater #writing #text #mine #bias tag #*100

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