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rae-writes · 4 months

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angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple.

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore.

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!”

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time.

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time.

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess.

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns.

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time.

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes.

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him.

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?”

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face.

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!”

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed.

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum.

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!”

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him.

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure.

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?”

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?”

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen.

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out.

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..”

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going.

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little.

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead.

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!”

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip.

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously.

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.”

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse.

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!”

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.”

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold.

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder.

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.”

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off.

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?”

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…”

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make.

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him.

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore.

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…”

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace.

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came.

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him.

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.”

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides.

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…”

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop.

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did!

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster.

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!”

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress.

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

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riddleriddles · 4 months

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ෆ delicate

ෆ matthew riddle x hufflepuff! shy! reader

ෆ summary: the one in which Matthew can’t leave such a beautiful girl crying alone in a dress like that.

ෆ warnings: English translated from google (please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes), alteration of the history of mattheo and tom (tom is not voldemort but an potions teacher like snape).

ෆ notes: i just love shy!reader so much, im sorry if all my one shots are all with shy or hufflepuff reader, IM JUST A GIRL

𖦹

Parties have never really been your favorite way to spend time, loud music and dancing until your feet hurt in the middle of many strangers, not really your tipe of thing.

But a prom was so different, the music was slow, and the dresses, the delicate makeup, even more the winter ball, with the decorations in light shades of blue and white, was a dream.

Especially when you had someone to spend the night, a date, but maybe for lack of popularity, you hadn’t gotten a pair for tonight, your circle of friends was extremely limited, but if you did not have a pair it was not for lack of desire.

Since the prom was announced, you dreamed of being invited by none other than Cedric Digory.

He was tall, kind, sweet, confident, and extremely outgoing, always surrounded by his friends, but you weren’t special for having the attention picked up by Digory, half the girls of your year also dreamed the same thing as you, on being asked to be his date on the romantic night of the winter dance, unfortunately, you and Cedric, although you’ve interacted a few times - just a few little conversations he pulled during class, or little smiles as you passed each other in the hallway - you were very different, he was extremely confident and liked the attention, you did not.

In the little conversations you shared with him, you believed that those glances and those smiles had a greater meaning, maybe you forgot that he was just polite, or you knew but liked to pretend not, because the feeling was good, of being seen, of someone enjoying holding a conversation, and as much as you didn’t talk so much, he liked your words spoken in a low tone of quiet, or you thought he liked it.

the weeks passed and nothing came, not an owl or a letter, not even a flower, so your hopes were lost, as much as you had heard through the corridors that Cedric Digory had no pair and was considering going alone to the winter ball.

…

With only a few minutes left until the beginning of the prom, you were lying on the bed, wet hair tied in a towel with a robe around your body, looking at the ceiling with your hands resting one on top of the other in the region of your chest.

the room smelled like shampoo and the fragrance of the strawberry liquid soap you shared in the bathroom with your roommates.

"Come on, you need to go!" Lizzie, your closest friend, and roommate says excited, you and she used to make plans for a long time about this dance together. "We've been talking about it for so long, just for you to give up because of Cedric?"

She talks to you while tiing her hair delicately in a built-in braid, her yellow dress contrasting with her brown eyes and blonde hair.

"Oh Liz, you don't understand..." you whine "I don't have a pair, you at least go with someone nice."

"If that's the problem, you know I can leave Oliver dancing alone while we dance together." she rolls her eyes playfully and says excitedly, she looks at you through the mirror, you turn your face so that yours looks to meet, you smile softly at her.

"Don't do that." you say and giggles lightly.

You turn your head up again and sigh.

"All right, I’ll go..." You give yourself defeated and hear a lively scream from Liz, sit on the bed with your legs crossed.

She finishes the braid in her hair and finally turns to you looking for approval.

"do i look good?" She asks making an exaggerated pose with her hands on her waist and a smile from ear to ear.

She had a long yellow dress with several details of embroidered white flowers, and her blonde hair was in a single built-in braid with some messy strands giving her a stripped air, a yellow heel on her feet.

You smile at her and answer with a giggle "You look beautiful Liz, I'm sure Oliver will fall in love with you once again!"

Her smile changes to a shy smile and she looks at herself in the mirror again.

"I'm going to ask one of the girls to do my makeup, I hope that when I get back you'll be very ready for us to go!" She says excited and takes her makeup case, it is white with kittens and pink tulips and fits in the palm of her hand.

You suppress a smile with your lips and nod your head agreeing.

As soon as she leaves the dorm you get out of bed and go to the shared vanity, you sit on the wooden chair looking at your reflection in the mirror.

So you did your best to feel beautiful enough to go to the ball, dried your hair, and made a small braid on each side, a white bow holding them together, a light makeup on your face with a little glitter marking your eyes, and some golden accessories.

You get up from the vanity and walk to the full-length mirror that was on the door of the big wardrobe you shared with Lizzie.

The dress was hanging right next to the mirror, she went to her heels it was a shade of pearly white and made all of silk, it was beautiful, and you have been dreaming of it for so long.

You take it by the hanger and gently dress it with you back to the mirror, after fixing your hair and accessories, you turn to the mirror again and the view enchants you, feeling so beautiful, the dress had fallen so well on your body and your makeup, along with the simple hairstyle that made you so delicate.

Soon you hear the door open and turn quickly.

Lizzie gasped with an admired smile on her face and approached you quickly.

"You look won-der-ful!" She holds your hand and makes you do a little spin, a slight blush of shyness arrives on your cheeks while you give a soft giggle.

She releases from your hand and goes to the chair where two purses are hanging, one in a yellow and white tone and the other all white with small details in golden, she takes your lip gloss on top of the vanity and puts it inside the white purse, along with a mascara and a pink lip moisturizer that she puts in the yellow one, Going to you, she extends the white and you take it and put it on your shoulder.

"Let's go... the girls told me that Oliver is already waiting for me downstairs!" She says excited, ready to leave the dorm.

…

The great hall was splendid, in a whole shade of dark blue, the false sky with small and bright stars, the music was lively but still calm, couples were dancing in the center and some other people and groups of friends on the decorated tables.

You entered right behind Oliver and Lizzie, enjoying the place.

You sat at a table together where you shared a small talk to pass the time, as far as you could no longer ignore the passionate looks that Olive sent to her best friend and decided to leave them alone for a few minutes.

"I'm going to get something to drink, I'll be right back..." you asked excuse me getting up from the table with a gentle smile on her lips, Liz reciprocated shyly before giving all her attention to the brunette next to her.

Following up to a large table that was full of appetizers and different types of drinks, you took a red plastic cup and filled it with strawberry punch, from afar you could see Lizzie and olive sharing laughter, so you decided it was better to stay there for a while.

you got distracted looking down at your fingers while playing with the golden rings there, so distracted that you didn’t hear or notice when a tall brown boy came up to your side.

"Hey! you here!" Cedric said excitedly coming to your side with a little tap on your shoulder.

your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden presence of the boy, you turned to him with a small glance at his hand on your shoulder, visibly shy.

your heart began to beat faster in your chest and suddenly your throat was dry and your head could not find words to answer the boy with such beautiful eyes.

"Cedric... hi" you were louder than usual on account of the music playing, a small smile on your lips.

"You look good." he says in a charming tone approaching you, he passes by your side as he approaches the table behind you.

your cheeks are flushed with the comment and you don't know how to answer so you just chuckle shyly and admire him as he looks at the table.

"Thank you." you wanted to say that he looked good too but the words don’t seem to want to leave your mouth.

He serves himself in a red plastic cup just like yours, you watch him as he takes a gray canteen out of his suit pocket and baptizes the drink in the cup, you look at him and he seems not to notice, you look away at the couples dancing in the center of the Great hall.

He leans against your side, an arm leaning on the table behind your back without touching you, you suppress your lips, nervous with his proximity, playing with your rings again you swear you can feel your heart almost jumping from your chest.

He lifts the canteen as if offering you some of the whiskey he kept in his suit.

"Do you drink?" he asks with a gentle smile as if asking a casual question.

you look around nervous to see if any teacher is looking at you, which fortunately is not.

"No, but thank you." you gently refuse with a shy smile, he nods and hides the canteen on his suit again.

Now it’s his turn to watch the couples dancing in the center of the prom, a huge jealousy hitting his chest as he sees Cho Chang dancing in the arms of another boy.

You don’t follow his gaze, still playing your rings, the silence starts to bother you when he suddenly catches your hand, you look at him surprised, kinda bothered by the sudden touch.

"Do you want to dance?" he asks with an almost nervous smile.

suddenly you were speechless again, he wanted to dance? with you?

you nodded looking a little bit more lively, a big smile popping up on your lips.

was playing a song you didn’t know as Cedric took you to the center of the Great Hall, his hand resting on your waist.

you danced in a funny sync, but for you, everything seemed perfect. At least until you realize that Cedric wasn’t even paying attention to you.

you exclaimed softly in pain as he stepped on a finger as you danced, stopping for a few seconds.

He suddenly takes his eyes off something he was staring at behind you and looks at you surprised, then gives a little look at your foot, realizing his mistake.

"Oh, sorry, really sorry, I swear I’m not that bad normally" he apologizes with a nervous expression.

You can only nod your head and agree with a fake smile realizing that he doesn’t even care to look at you while apologizing, you follow his gaze and find none other than Cho Chang dancing and laughing with some other Corvinal boy.

You look away before he notices, and look down at your feet, gathering the courage to give an excuse to leave, he seems to notice.

"hey... you all right?" he asks with a gentle little smile and pretending to be worried.

So you look up at him, and you realize that he wasn’t trying to hurt you, of course, it was a little rude to treat you as a second choice, but it wasn’t his fault if he didn’t have feelings for you.

You sigh quietly “im sorry, cedric, i gotta go”

You don’t wait for an answer and get rid of his arms without looking at him because you know if he asks looking in your eyes you would stay.

Passing the couples dancing together you run a firm step out of the Great Hall, hoping to be alone for a while.

The thought of coming to the prom alone was beginning to look pathetic in your head, you should have stayed in your dorm.

you pass through the corridor of the stairs and follow to the courtyard, a bubble of anguish forming in your throat, along with the burning in the tip of your nose, indicating the will to cry.

You always used to cry for silly things, as simple as they were, like the end of a romantic book, or a sad movie, sometimes happiness, sometimes anger.

Now you felt pathetic, for not having a pair and having been made second choice, a mixture of sadness and upset formed the tears in the corner of your eyes.

You leaned on the stone wall, your hands covering your eyes to prevent more tears from falling.

the sound of you back on the stone wall catches Matthew attention, he looks back and would not have noticed that you were crying if not for the hand in your eyes, you sobbed silently.

He lets the cigarette smoke out of his mouth still holding it between his lips if he mentally asks if he should ask you what was happening or should sneak out while you hadn’t noticed his presence.

He analyzes your whole body, from the white Maryjane on your feet to the jewelry you wore on your neck, before sighing softly and taking the cigarette out of his mouth, his night was so boring that he needed a distraction.

Matthew also did not have a prom date, but not for lack of choice, nor would he come to this dance considered ridiculous in his vision, refused one or two dates saying that he would not attend, unfortunately, Lorenzo, one of his best friends, convinced him to stay at least a few minutes before disappearing with his escort, Matthew tired of being alone decided to go out to smoke without being caught by some of the teachers, he planned to finish and climb back to his dorm.

His plans were ruined.

You feel the smell of cigarettes and the presence next to you and take your hand out of your eyes to look at Matthew next to you, your cheeks red by crying, and now the shame of being caught crying, matching with the tip of your nose also reddish and your eyes glowing with tears.

He looks at you and then realizes why your dress is white, was to match your angelic appearance, he notes mentally to thank Lorenzo later for forcing him to come.

"hi." he whispers with a neutral expression, not so serious but also not smiling.

"Hi?" you whisper, yet come out as a question.

You wipe the corner of your eyes, looking elsewhere than him, still ashamed of being caught crying over something so silly.

"Why aren’t you at the prom?" he asks as if you’re not crying, without asking your name as if you already know each other.

Uncertain of what to say, because you did not want to open up to a stranger, especially when the unknown was the son of the frightening professor of potions, Tom Riddle.

"I... found it boring." you whisper shyly, your hands playing with the heart pendant of your necklace.

"so boring that it made you want to cry? what a coincidence, me too, I just wiped my tears." he says with a serious tone but visibly joking.

You let out a giggle realizing that he took your lie, forgetting what had just happened.

"All right, it’s just a silly motive."

"Will you tell me you don’t have someone to dance with?" he asks with a giggle as if he’s joking.

"I haven’t." Your smile falls and you look at your own feet.

He tilts his head to look at your face, not believing that someone so beautiful and dressed so well is crying for not having someone to dance with.

"you’re lying."

"I’m not." you whisper uncertainly and he giggles out of disbelief.

After a few seconds in silence, he puts the cigarette in his mouth again, and from a puff, you watch as he releases the smoke between his lips and takes the cigarette out of his mouth again.

The cold began to bother you, your hands rose and your arms crossed above your chest in search of heat, he notices and comes a little closer, not so much not to scare you.

"Was it someone who made you cry?" he asks quietly, alternating between looking at you and the cigarette on his fingers.

"yes."

"your boyfriend?"

"No." you reply, feeling foolish again, for crying over a boy who isn’t even your boyfriend. "It’s silly."

He stares at you as he leans his head against a stone wall, your eyes still sparkling from tears as you look at your shoe, he notes that the tears lightly blurred your mascara.

He lifts his fingers to the tip of your eyes and passes his thumb over the stain carefully, you look at him uncertain with the proximity, your cheeks turning pink again, and he smiles noticing you blushing with the touch.

"was stained" he clarifies

"with mascara?" he nods agreeing, the cold starting to bother him too.

"Don’t you want to come in? It’s getting cold in here, and you’re out of coat." He whispers, putting his cigarette out on the wall behind him, before throwing it on the floor, wet from the rain earlier.

"I think I’ll go back to my dorm." you whisper letting your hands slip to the side of your body.

"Oh no you can’t leave," he says quickly, thinking of some reason to make you stay, not knowing that you didn’t need much because you hadn’t yet learned to say no, as much as it was someone unknown.

"I can’t?" you ask confused

"No... because... I wanted you to dance with me." he says at once without thinking, dancing? he didn’t dance, what had gone through his head?

His voice comes out neutral but he curses himself mentally, he did not want you to leave but he also did not want to dance.

"Do you want to dance with me?" you blush and suppress a smirk, he sighs without knowing how to answer.

"Yes." No, he doesn’t.

you smile with the words that come out of his lips.

Ok, maybe he wants, just a little.

"Okay." you smile shyly, looking at him slightly flushed, he looks between your glossy lips and your eyes shining.

He accompanies you to the Great hall again, making silly comments to keep you distracted, you thank him mentally.

"I don’t have a pair either, nor is it that bad right?" he says as you arrive.

"not much" you respond softly

a song ends when you arrive, and one of your favorite songs starts playing.

You take a deep breath and your smile increases, you start to think that the universe was trying to make you sad just to make you happy again.

Matthew has his hand on your waist while guiding you to the center of the Great Hall, which did not have as many couples as before, Fade Into You played in the background while the lights changed to a dark blue tone.

Your chests were glued and you were smaller than him, he can smell the floral smell of your shampoo, and then he takes a deep breath discreetly to feel it better.

You look up at him shyly, not knowing what to say to end the silence.

I wanna hold the hand Inside you

you whisper something quietly to him

I wanna take the breath thats true

"Sorry, I didn’t catch that" he whispers so just you can hear and bends down a little to hear you better, your bodies still dancing in sync truly perfect.

I look to you and i see nothing

you stand on tiptoe, your hand on his shoulder as you say in his ear "Thank you" It is still low but he could hear why you said it in his ear this time.

i look to you to see the truth

He had no idea what you were thanking him for, and neither did you.

You live your life, you go in shadows

"oh no, I should thank you." He whispers back to you, he talks louder, and he doesn’t have to say it in your ear, but he does it anyway.

You’ll come apart and you'll go blind

you shiver with his hoarse voice in your ear as he smiles at your reaction, realizing that maybe he likes to see you blush, even if the blue light is in the way.

Some kind of night into your darkness

he leaves a kiss on your neck next to your ear before he looks up again, his action making your heart race, you had never received this much attention from some boy.

Colors your eyes with what is not there

you smile shyly and he reciprocates before looking up around, you lower your head, and lean on his shoulder, while your bodies dance slowly, his hand that was previously intertwined with yours loose and goes down to your waist, his hand that was once intertwined with yours loose and descends to your waist, his arms hold you there, on his chest, your own hands follow his movements and climb to his neck, the silence began to get comfortable.

Fade into you

Stranger, you never knew

Fade into you

#mattheo riddle #slytherpuff #slytherin x hufflepuff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #harry potter #matthew riddle

2K notes · View notes

thesturniolos · 2 months

Text

make you mine ~ m.sturniolo x reader (she/her)

જ⁀➴. summary: i mean you know what they say, keep your friends close but always keep your enemies closer- just how much closer?

જ⁀➴. warnings: filthy smut, fingering, dumbification, degradation, praise, rope bunny, spitting, spanking (i’m sorry), dom!matt and sub!matt, jealousy, brat!reader, a little angsty (cause yk i fw that too much)

જ⁀➴. this is for @annamcdonalds67 challenge!! i will be basing this fic off of madison beer’s ‘make you mine’ !

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

‘i wanna lay you down, i wanna string you up, i wanna make

you mine.’

do you know that feeling when you’re drunk, so drunk that your mind feels like a fog? like a layer of cloud and mist has settled into the crevices of your brain, seeping into your every thought. a fog so powerful that it alters your visions and brings hidden secrets to the tip of your tongue, the kind of secrets that would change something, anything once and for all.

and in that moment, the feeling of freedom outweighs all the consequences of letting that secret out. slowly, my fogged brain pieces together to allow my hands to fiddle with the padlocks of the secret. to untie the tangled chains, to swivel the tiny little key around on the pads of my fingers, to push the blade into the hole in the chest.

and just like that, a secret sworn to never be spread dribbles down the edges of the box and every thought telling me, yelling actually, that what i’m about to do is wrong is etched away by a metaphorical marker and nothing will stop me from what i want to do and what i’m going to do.

the dizzying noise of a thousand people, some my friends, most of them random people you’d find at classic LA parties, is silenced by the sound of my beating heart and the blood pumping viciously around my body.

it’s the kind of passion that comes from envy, that comes from jealousy, that comes from resent so blinding that every step you take feels like it could break the marble floor underneath your feet. or that steam pushing out of your ears could be visible.

it’s the kind of jealousy that comes from seeing a person you care so deeply about in a corner with some bitch who knows nothing about him.

like- she doesn’t know what he likes and doesn’t like, she doesn’t know that he has three books by his bed and that one of them has her initials carved into the fourteenth page. she would never know that his own couch has an imprint from where my fucking ass sits everyday. like she wouldn’t know that their shared ‘hatred’ wasn’t actually real. just like how she doesn’t know that he is not on the market and she has absolutely no fucking place in the world to have her wretched bones on his skin.

you’d assume that in a situation like this time slows like a movie but it doesn’t. it speeds and i can’t keep track of anyone around me or what song is playing or even what drink is sloshing onto my hand from my cup. i just know exactly where it’s going to go though.

before i step foot into the beaming light of the kitchen, two hands grab my hips and swivel me around. two hands that won’t be there in a minute if they don’t leave my body.

im met with a pair of very similar eyes and i suddenly feel very guilty for thinking what i thought a second ago.

‘hey! where have you been all night? me and nick have been looking for you literally everywhere.’ chris’ eyes look concerned but his smile is still in full tact.

‘i’ve been talking to people, catching up-‘

‘did something happen? cause you know, you look like you’re gonna kill somebody’ he laughs, his hands leaving my hips and i brush the area off where he touched, holding my head high to hopefully hide the seeving look on my face.

‘just people liking to get up in my business, you know how it is. ‘ i nod, sipping from cup, immediately regretting because actually wtf is in it.

‘okay, well- me and nick were about to leave, we’re just tryna round you and matt up.’ my teeth clench together at the sound of his name.

‘yeah, i don’t know chris. i might go home later, feels like we only just got here!’

‘it’s literally 2am, we’ve been here 4 and half hours already-‘

“come on, chris! when do you ever get to go to a party as big as this? go find a girl or something- give yourself a good time!’ his eyebrows furrow and he shrugs his shoulders.

“i guess so-“

“you gotta get over that bitch ex of yours anyways, perhaps this could be your perfect time.” and with that, he was fully listening. his shoulders now standing upright and his posture as straight as possible.

“you’re right, y/n. oh, look- there’s matt! guess he’s already a step ahead of me and you.”

my head spirals around is quickly, i think i saw stars. big, white, angry shooting stars. the sight of his hands clenching onto her ass, pushing her against a kitchen counter. her dress slowly riding up her thighs, thanks to his legs prying them open.

and with that, something ticks inside me.

i’ve been jealous before. hell i’ve been the most jealous in the room. but have you ever been so jealous that a rack of knives looked appealing and the bat that hangs above the wall in the living room looked handy dandy to do the exact job you needed to?

why was it always the bitchiest of girls who all the guys hate -but apparently not so because she’s tugging on one of their dicks by saturday.

well guess what? two can play at that game, bitch.

i turn around to find a good looking guy, not so attractive that i could become attached but not ugly enough for me to be gagging when i run my hands along his dick.

‘you. come with me.” i gesture, my fingers curving in to lure him into me.

his brows furrow and he scoffs, “why?”

“cause i fucking said so, come with me.” i drag his hand and he turns back to look at this friends with a sudden bright smile.

our hands are clenched together as i pull him through a small crowd towards the kitchen. the urge to instantly jump on him to rile matt up is incredibly overwhelming but desperation isn’t always the best look on me.

my hand reaches for a red cup, filled with what looks like classic punch and i pour it down the sink to fill it up with straight vodka and hand it to him. “drink up, buttercup.”

his eyes widen but he obeys and i watch as he drinks every last sip, my fists clenching from the idea of what’s going on directly behind me.

“ngh’ matt-“ i hear the girl moan and my head twists to see his eyes glaring into mine whilst sucking red marks onto her neck.

i scoff and drag my guy closer to me, all whilst maintaining eye contact to lick a stripe up his neck and shove my right hand up his shirt to feel his torso. the guy did have toned abs, i could feel from how rock hard he was against my fingers but unlucky for him, i was completely and utterly distracted by the guy i hated so fucking much opposite me.

hate so pure that the sound of his name made goosebumps run down my neck and my blood bubble under my skin. my eyes would sting from the gaze of his eyes, my eyelids burning from refusing to shut. it was hate so pure that seeing a girl on his arm made my throat run dry and my words choke. the rings on my fingers digging into my palms and my teeth scratching against one another as i clenched my jaw to see the hickies scattered on his chest.

my tongue caresses the skin of his neck, latching over what i think is his sweet spot, as he moves his hands down my body. i smirk as i see matt latch onto the bitch’s figure tighter, desperate to outweigh whatever i was doing.

i look up at the guy and say, “do whatever you want to me, right here, right now.” his eyes light up and his breath halts slightly.

“but we’re in here with so many people-“

“i don’t care.” my head turning back to look at matt who is still looking at me, a grimacing smile speaking across my face which makes his brows furrow deeper into his skin.

the guy grabs my leg to push it onto his, my front up against him and he latches our mouths together, his tongue immediately creating a space between my lips to enter.

after a solid minute of awkwardly making out in front of what felt like 30 people, a hand pushes my leg down from the guys hip and grabs my hand to pull me away from the crowd.

i’d be stupid if i said i didn’t know it was matt, of course i knew it was him. after all, he knew i had full control over him even if we were just enemies.

sweating bodies collided with mine and i squeeze my body close together to avoid elbows to the face. my heels making me stumble a little, alcohol still running through my system.

i look down to find a step up a winding staircase, a classic LA mansion.

20 steps felt like half a lifetime as matt still desperately drags me up them, whispering incoherent, angry remarks under his breath. until finally he makes it to the top and barges through the first bedroom he sees.

i enter quickly after him, my hand falling to my side as he slams the door behind us. i didn’t have time to react before he pushes my shoulder into the wall behind me, digging his nails into my skin.

his eyes are practically black with anger, his eyebrows fallen to his eyelids yet a disgusting grin on his face. his tongue slides along his teeth, before he spits, ” what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”

“whatever you’re playing, i mean it’s only fair.” i squeak back, my breath a little taken away from the sudden collide with my back and the brick wall. and of course the incredibly small space between our lips and the fact that our noses are touching.

“that’s not how this works around here.”

“then how does it? you get to go around with every girl in our state and i sit in the background watching?” what was that even supposed to mean?

he removes a hand from my shoulder and shakes his head, “people around here know they can’t touch you. they just know that, sweetheart. i assumed you would too.”

“and you’re allowed to have that bitch all over you? tell me, matt. how is this really fucking fair?” his hand comes up to my throat to clench it, light enough so i’m not choking but hard enough so that i’m gagged, my head lifted up a little.

“because how else am i supposed to get you to fucking take notice that i want you.”

i furrow my eyebrows, i try to speak but he clenches harder and the words don’t form in my mouth.

“every girl i have i imagine it’s you, every time i’m fucking a girl i imagine it’s your pussy im in, i imagine it’s your lips that im sucking on.”

i look dead in his eyes, my lashes blurring my vision slightly, his hooded gaze mesmerising me as i take in his every word

“every mean comment i made and every remark you made back riled me up. i knew it, you knew it, everyone else fucking knew it. im fed up of this bullshit circle we’ve had going on- i need you to see that you’re mine. when i saw you and that bitch in the kitchen, i smiled because i knew i got you. i got you to the point where you fucking admitted to me that im in your brain, you want me just as much as i want you baby.”

his tongue pokes out to lick a strip along my lip, he stands back to look at me in such a vulnerable position. my legs squeezed together in my little black dress and his hand wrapped around my neck as i look up at him with teary eyes and a dumb little smile on my face. it was just all he had ever wanted.

his hand leaves my neck, reaching up to grab my jaw and push my lips against his. a messy, tongue-filled kiss. his tongue sucks onto mine and i moan into his mouth, my legs moving forward to push him backwards.

he hums into the kiss, moving his head to suck on my lips whilst treading towards the bed in which he eventually pulls us onto. my legs scramble to straddle his lap and loop my hands around his neck.

he pulls away to pull the straps of my dress down as i look into his eyes, if somebody had told me two years ago that i was straddling matt’s fucking lap i probably would’ve slapped you around the face.

“do you know how long i’ve wanted you baby?” he says, yanking down my black dress to reveal a lacy, practically see-through bra that pushes up my boobs to accentuate them especially for matt’s eyes.

i shake my head, my hands clasping onto the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“too fucking long.” he rips off my bra, my mouth wide from how easily he broke the fabric, a loud groan leaving his mouth as he launches forward to suck my hard, pointed nipples.

my head thrown back as i grind against his jean pants, desperate to relieve the feeling in between my thighs. the tent of his pants brushing roughly against my region making me pull his head closer into my tits.

he pulls away to stare up at me, already looking a little disheveled, as he chuckles slightly, “you’re so fucking needy, who knew a pretty baby with a mouth as big as yours could be so desperate for my cock?”

i whimper at the sound of his patronising voice, my hips moving faster as he speaks but the loss of the soft pad of his tongue of nipples making my eyes water a little.

he grabs my jaw to force me to look at him, his fore finger and his middle finger squeezing together closely as he pushes them towards my lips. “open up, slut.”

i open my mouth for him and he guides his fingers into my mouth and instinctively i suck on them, my eyes slowly fluttering shut and i hum onto them, wishing it was something else.

the tent underneath me twitching even under all this fabric and the hands looped around his neck untie to slowly run down his torso all the way to the zip on his jeans.

“you want it all don’t you baby? you act so tough but really you’re just a whore for me and my dick. it’s not even been five minutes and you’re already scrambling to undo my pants. that’s it baby, let me use all your pretty parts.” i pull them down to reveal his wet boxers and his huge dick.

this man wasn’t just packing a couple inches, it was enough to bruise the back of my throat and my cervix. my eyes light up as i hold it through the cotton of his underwear, drool begging to leave my mouth.

he leans back slowly, his elbows digging into the plush mattress underneath of us as he guides me closer towards his cock, pushing away stray hairs that curl around the frame of my face.

i pull down his boxers for his dick bounce straight up and hit his stomach, pre cum leaking from his bright red, swollen tip. and i hungrily scramble to grab hold of it, his words replaying in my head, i’m just a whore for him.

my hands smooth the veins along the bottom of his dick, slowly making my way up to kiss his oozing tip and i feel his body shudder underneath me. without a second thought, i shove his tip in my mouth and suck his cum off. my mouth hollows and i move my head up and down, determined to get some noise out of his pretty mouth.

“that’s it pretty girl, just like that- mmm” his head is thrown back and his hands come round to cradle my head, pushing me further onto his dick.

i moan which sends vibrations down his cock, his tip growing in my mouth as i swirl my tongue around it, the gagging sounds echoing in the room, riling matt up more and more.

“fucking take it all baby- oh fuck, i know you can” he winces out, the grip on my hair tightening and i smile against the girth of his dick doing exactly what he says, hollowing my mouth and sucking all the way to his bone. his hips shove up to hit the back of my throat and my eyes flutter shut, the full feeling in my throat overwhelming me.

he guides my head by bobbing my head up and down in time with his hip thrusts, the sounds of my gargling getting progressively louder as he becomes more determined to cum down my throat.

a sudden halt to his erotic sounds, i feel my head being pulled up, a ‘pop’ sound coming from my mouth from the sudden loss of his dick in my throat. he laughs, smoothing my cheek with his thumb before gently slapping it and grabbing my chin so i look at him.

“you gonna let me make you feel good?” i frantically nod my head, the heat between my legs practically burning a hole thru my panties now.

“that’s my girl, you’re mine. aren’t you?” i nod and he tuts, “ use your words.”

“i’m yours.” and that’s all he needed before he picks me up like i’m a fucking feather weighing nothing more than a couple pounds and throws me onto the bed whilst he twists around to stand up off the bed, looking down at me.

“you know it, my little slut.” he pulls down my dress finally, he didn’t get to finish underdressing me cause the idea of finally tasting him was too much. but now that i can feel the cold air hitting the most private of places and his glare blazing up and down my body, i feel shy.

my elbows hover over my boobs as i try and scrunch up a little but matt’s hands pry them away and he spreads my legs before discarding my little black dress on the floor, i’m only left with my matching lace panties.

he licks his lips, his glare fixating on the wet patch created on my underwear, just for him. as he holds my thighs apart, he blows gently onto the fabric making it instantly cold and i shift up the bed a little, whimpering.

“this all for me, baby?” he looks up at me, caressing my thighs gently. the cold metal of his rings making my goosebumps more and more apparent.

“mhm.” my eyes flutter shut and i push against the force of matt’s hands, becoming increasingly desperate for any kind of pressure on my pussy. “please.”

“please what?” he smirks, his touch on my thighs now so light you wouldn’t even believe it was there. it was another level of teasing that made the core of your very stomach fuzzy and the lack of any touch adds to the sick feeling you have.

“just do something, anything.” he snaps when i say that, flipping me around quickly so that my body slaps against the mattress, my ass on full show to him, my thing not doing much too cover my the cheeks of my ass.

“i wanna feel the rush, i wanna taste the crush, i wanna get you going.”

the sharp sting of fabric ripping against my delicate skin and sudden gasp mixed with the breaking of sweet lace makes matt chuckle in the background before placing a harsh slap to my ass, sending me into the air as it was so unexpected.

“you gonna be good for me?” he smooths over where he slapped, secretly wishing it will make a bruise.

“yes, yes i’ll be good.” i beg, wanting literally anything.

as his fingers move closer towards my wetness, he suddenly moves away quickly before getting up and searching the room.

i look up and frown, “what the fuck are you doing?” i whisper a little, upset that he looks like he’s about to leave.

he doesn’t say anything but pauses once he gets to the drawer in the closet and laughs before turning around to reveal a belt.

“what are you doing? this isn’t even your room.” i say, relaxing yet still confused.

he walks over to me and forces my chin up at him, “keep speaking in that bratty fucking tone and i will leave you high and dry”

“well you won’t even let me get high so what effect is that gonna have-“ before i could finish my sentence he covers my mouth with one hand and uses the other to turn me around so my head is shoved into the pillows of the bed. he scrambles to grab my hands, pushing them against my back and fiddling with the belt.

“just you fucking wait and see, little angel.” he twists them around my wrists and tightens them so i can’t get out without any help.

his hands letting going of mine before i feel them suddenly exactly where i need them. a singular finger pressing down onto my bundle of nerves and my whole body jumps with just a simple touch, a pornographic moan leaving my mouth.

“does that feel good baby” i whimper back a desperate ‘yes’ and wriggle against the pad of his finger wanting him to move oh, so badly.

“want me to move my hand, darling?” i nod my head frantically hoping he can see me which i gather he can considering the low laugh that leaves his mouth and the sudden movement of his finger dragging down slowly through my folds.

“you want me here?”

“yes, yes. i want you there. i want you to move.”

“you want me to move?”

“please.”

“there it is.” and with that, the gentle movements turned into quick, hard thrusts. his two fingers sliding through my hole at an insane pace, not letting me readjust for one second, making my whole body lift from the bed, my hands shaking in the belt he tied me up in.

the cold metal of his rings mixing with the warm wetness coating his fingers, the sensation was immense. all before he flips me over and presses his mouth onto my clip sending me into fucking sub space.

“oh my fucking god! matt-“

he licks and kisses at my clit at a gentle pace all while his fingers strum in and out of my hole at an alarming speed, it’s a wonder he doesn’t have arm cramp even after one minute.

my ass doesn’t stay on the bed and my whole body is jittering at the sudden overwhelming sensation. the flicks of his tongue and the curving of his fingers making sure he hits my sweet spots makes the bundle in my stomach tighten up.

“please matt, i’m gonna cum!”

he carries on, his feasting at my pussy getting progressively more intense, like a starved man. he enters another finger into my hole, stretching me perfectly so that i am shaped for him.

he breathes against my heat, “let go, baby.”

and with that, i did. sweat running from my back and forehead, my tied hands desperately grabbing onto the leather and my toes clenching over his shoulders.

he licks me clean, pressing one last kiss to my clit which makes me jolt as he laughs a little to himself seeing my messy figure on the bed.

“you did so well, baby.” i smile at him, his head coming close to mine to kiss my lips.

“now you gonna help me out sweetheart?”

i nod and he turns me around to take me out of the tied belts and he kisses the red marks from where i pulled against the restraint. “you liked these?” i shake my head and he laughs.

i pull myself up from the bed and onto matt’s lap to face him, i latch my lips onto his and hook my hands around his neck pulling him closer to me. my naked body fitting perfectly around his warm body.

he moves his hands down my body, caressing my curves and humming against our kiss as i pull away and look down to stroke his dick to which he kisses and pulls himself into my neck.

i move myself up his body to push myself down onto his hard shaft, as he winces and throws his head backwards, moaning my name.

i pull at his hairs and rock my hips against him and watch his demeanour change as his hips desperately rutt against mine and i forcefully push my hands onto his thighs so that he’s restricted.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he groans as my grinding against him slows.

“taking control.” his eyes widen and i push myself up further so that i can plunge further onto his dick. my nails digging into his thighs as i watch his breathing get faster and moans leave his mouth.

“that’s not - ngh- how it works.” he argues with me which doesn’t last for long when i start to kiss his neck and suck on the lobes of ears in which his thrusts up into me become more persistent.

“i’m gonna cum-“

“not until i cum.” i say, chasing my high with him as i hear him whine into my ear, panting a little too.

“please, just let me.” he hugs me closer, my boobs crushed against his chest as he begins to rocks back and forth with me, moaning and groaning with his head in the air. so much for tough guy, huh?

“cum with me.” i bounce up and down as he thrusts up into me for the last time before releasing his cum, painting my walls as it oozes out of me as i collapse onto the bed next to us.

our heavy breathing and hearts beating is the only thing that can be heard.

matt’s hand slowly moves to bring me closer to him, i smile as i look up at his tired state.

“you changed quickly, mr tough guy to oh please! please, let me cum! “ he shakes his head and covers my mouth.

“shut up, you wouldn’t fucking let me .”

i laugh at him and he picks me up to squeeze me, so much for being enemies, huh?

“so-“

“you’re mine now right? like for real?” he’s not looking at me, rather picking at his nails.

i giggle and press my head against his forehead and nod, “of course.”

hope you all liked !! too many fucking words :)

tags: @wisteral @evieolo @ev3rgreenxtrees @estelleswrld @recklessmatt @recklesssturniolo @realuvrrr @urfavstromboli @obscurechris @poopydroopt @plasticferal @lilasturns @lovingmattysposts @m4ttslvr @mattandmilds @muwapsturniolo @mattsgirlfriendlol @kirby0strombolli @kvtie2 @kikisturnioloo @kqyslyho3 @klarasmith @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @sturniolosstar @sturniolossmut @mattslolita @zooweemamas @chrattenthusiast @chrissgirlsstuff @bernardsbendystraws @ducksturniolo @dsturniolo @deatthmatch @fruitglazed @hearts4sturniolo @hawaiihasmyheart @heartsforchrisandmatt @hoesformatt @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @inlovewchris @ihateeveryone357474 @ilovemattsturn @nicksmainbitch @noellesturniolo @yurtrrrr @mattsgirlfriendlol @mattsfaked

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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

Text

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

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

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

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

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

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

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

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

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

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I never got to thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

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

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

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

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would I do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Angel!”

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

“ANGEL.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

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

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

“Who says he was bad?”

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

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

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

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

“I wanted something more… personal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t an idiot.

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him.

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

You chose to come back.

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

“My little doe.”

You came home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face.

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

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

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

༻Masterlist༺

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

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

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

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planetaryupscaled · 8 days

Text

Honeymoon 1: Guilty Pleasure

Male Reader x Yunjin x Somi

Tags: 8k, anal, cheat, creampie, oral, squirt

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

It’s hard to wake up in a more relaxing way than I just had. Lying on a soft comfortable bed in the bedroom of the expensive suite I was renting. The sounds of ocean waves crashing on the beach coming in through the open balcony door. Though the part best of all was the feeling of tight feminine lips wrapped around my dick as my cock was being blown.

I let out a moan as I opened my eyes, and I used pillows to sit up and look down my body. I was still naked from last night’s activities, and the sheets had been thrown aside. Down around my waist was also a naked body of a thin fit woman. I could see her cute nude ass, and she had legs crossed and kicked up in the air. She moved her red hair out of her face, it revealed her brown eyes, looking up at me. Though she continued to suck me, her stretched lips did seem to smile a bit when she noticed I was awake. She kept going for a few more seconds before releasing my pole from her mouth.

“Morning husband,” she said with a big smile, obviously enjoying getting to say those words. We had gotten married only two days ago, and now we were enjoying our honeymoon at an exclusive private resort. The hotel had many amenities, but the best of which was that its security kept photographers away and guests knew better than to take photos of others as they enjoyed their own privacy.

“I could really enjoy waking up every day like this.”

“I bet you could,” she said as her hands took over working my rod from her mouth. “I had to wake you up, and this seemed like the most fun way. You need to hurry up and finish though, we only have 30 minutes until they stop serving breakfast.”

“Or… we just call for room service, and then really enjoy ourselves in the shower while we wait for it to arrive.”

“See, that’s one of the reasons I love you. You always have such great ideas.” Yunjin than happily went back to sucking my cock. I had to remind her a few minutes later that I still had to order the food. She let my erection slip back out of her mouth and told me what she wanted for breakfast then headed to the in the shower to get ready for me. I called in the order and told them that there was no rush on the order since I was about to take a shower.

Walking into the bathroom I saw my new wife under the spray of water. “Babe, next time we sneak out and have sex on the beach we need to make sure and bring towels or a blanket or something. I still have sand in my hair from last night” Yunjin yelled over the sound of the shower. I just stood and watched as she twirled in the large shower stall letting the water rinse off the soap suds.

When she wiped the water from her eyes, she saw me standing against the wall watching her. Yunjin gave me a flirtatious look and bit her lip. She then stepped up and pressed her delicious tits up against the glass and gave me the come here signal with her finger. I quickly followed her command and got in the shower with her. She spun around to face me and we made out under the spay of the water. I moved her back as we kissed until she was up against the glass wall. Then I could not help myself but to bend down and take one of her nipples into my mouth. I was still obsessed with how perfect her tits were, and she loved how I loved her tits. I could go for a while playing with them, and playing with her, but she had already gotten me very worked up and we had food on the way, so I flipped her around. Knowing what was coming, Yunjin bent at the waist a bit and stuck out her ass as she braced herself up against the glass. Taking hold of her hips I pulled her back and push my hips forward. We both moaned in pleasure as my cock entered her. After all the sex we’d had since we’d been together, her pussy fit me like a glove.

“Oh god yes,” Yunjin said repeatedly as I pounded her from behind. Our bodies were in perfect sync, her pushing her ass back right as I pushed my hips forward causing the sounds of our sex echoed in the bathroom. When I knew she was getting close to her orgasm I moved my hand around to rub her clit until I finally felt the familiar feeling of her pussy clenching around my cock as she climaxed. As she came, I grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her body. With nothing else holding her up, Yunjin once again found herself with her tits pushed up against the glass. This time instead of silently motioning for me to join her, she was loudly moaning as I used her body. I kept hammering her from behind until I was all but about to cum. I let go of her arms and pulled out, thinking I’d just cum all over her ass this time, but my wife had other ideas. She spun around and dropped to her knees. Wrapping her lips around my cock, she pushed my hand away from my dick and took hold of it herself. She began jacking off my dick with her tongue probing the head of my dick, all the while her eyes looked up at me with a look that seemed to be pleading me to cum. I didn’t hold back and fired my load in her mouth, which like so many times before she happily accepted and swallowed.

“Well, I got my morning protein,” she joked when it was over.

“Ha, yeah… Oh, shit the room service.” I said as I jumped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. When I walked out of the bathroom, I saw that they had left a cart with our breakfast just inside the door. We had our breakfast, of course, Yunjin decided to have it naked and let her body air dry after she found out they already delivered the food. Afterward we got dressed and headed out to into the resort. We stopped in on a few of the shops and then walked along the beach. I’ll freely admit, we were totally acting like that couple you hate to be around. We had our arms wrapped tightly one another as we walked everywhere, there were tons of public displays of affection. I normally would have hated us for being that couple, but we were on our honeymoon and Yunjin was in a particularly lovey-dovey mood so I just went with it.

We were pretty much attached at the hip until mid-afternoon. We had dinner reservations tonight and Yunjin wanted to go to the salon for a mani/pedi. With time to myself, I hung out at the beach. The suite we were rented also came with a private cabana, so I relaxed and did some reading in there. After a little while, I got up and headed over to the bar to get myself a drink. As I approached the bar, I couldn't help but notice the blondie standing there ordering a drink. Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice her, I mean notice that really nice ass in her small bikini bottoms cut.

“Getting a good look?” I apparently had looked a little too long because the woman had looked around while waiting on her drink, and had caught me looking at her ass.

“I...um...shit, sorry.” I apologize as she looked at me through her big sunglasses. As she turned around fully, I couldn’t help but check out the rest of her. Compared to Yunjin, she had a whiter complexion, perky breast, a bigger ass, and she was about as tall barefoot as Yunjin was in heels. “I guess I should almost take it as a compliment that I can get the guy honeymooning with Yunjin to check me out.”

“You know who I am?” I asked as I leaned against the bar next to her.

“Of course. This resort isn’t that big, and security doesn’t stop guest them from gossiping like high schoolers.” It was not until she raised her sunglasses and I saw her eyes did I realize who it was I was talking to.

“Oh, Somi. wow.”

“So you know who I am too?” She asked flirtatiously.

“Of course, I’m a fan actually. I surprised Yunjin with tickets to your concert last summer.” Somi stayed and talked with me even after she had gotten her drink and I ordered two mojitos, We ended up both taking a seat at the bar and chatting even after my drink arrived.

“So what do you do, for work?”

“I work for advertising agency.”

“Huh? So what’s your connection to the entertainment industry?”

“None, unless you include Yunjin.”

“Hmmm.”

“What?” I asked she was obviously probing for some bit of information.

“It’s nothing. Just trying to figuring out what Yunjin sees in you.”

“Well fuck you too.”

Somi laughed. “I’m sorry that sounded bad. I mean you’re handsome and all, and in pretty good shape. If we meet at a bar and you started hitting on me, I sure wouldn’t stop you. It’s just that...well, generally we don’t end up with people outside the entertainment industry. When they do, it usually comes back to one of two reasons.”

“Oh yeah, what are those?” I asked curious to hear her theory.

“Well, one, is that they are rich, and I mean like really rich. So are you…”

“I mean I make decent money for a normal person, but no, I’m not from money and you probably made more from your last tour than I’ll make in the next several years.”

“Okay then,” she said with a very big smirk on her face before taking a sip of her drink.

“So?”

“So? So what?” She asked knowingly.

“What’s the second reason?”

“Well, let's just say…” She then put her hand on my thigh, “that they tend to have certain specific talents that women find irresistible,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Ummm...wellll…I mean, I don’t know, I… well I know Yunjin is always more than satisfied with the job I do.”

“I bet.” Somi was now rubbing my thigh. “Any chance I can take a peek at what she’s been enjoying?”

“Gezz” the word slipped out of my mouth before my brain could react. I lifted up my hand with my ring on it. “Look I’m flattered but I’m married remember? As extremely tempting an offer as that might be, I really can’t.”

“Come on. Come back to my cabana, I’ll even give you a peek at what’s under my bathing suit first if you promise to show me what’s under yours. She doesn’t ever have to know” Somi whispered into my ear in a sultry voice. I hadn’t noticed until just now how close she had moved her chair to mine.

“Are you serious?”

“Come on, I know you want me. I know you think I’m hot. Maybe even a little hotter than your wife.”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You can put something in my mouth if you want.”

“I...umm...look, another time, another life, I would have happily mounted you right on this bar and spend hours going to town on you, but as I said I am happily married.”

“Okay,” Somi said as she got up from her chair. “If you change your mind or just want to get out of the sun, I’ll be in cabana number 5.”

“I have a cabana of my own, but thanks.” Somi gave my thigh a squeeze before walking back to her cabana, and I couldn’t help but watch her ass as she walked away. And I am pretty sure she knew it too. When she was gone from view I sighed and finished off my second mojito. I then texted Yunjin to see when she was going to be finished. I was hoping soon, so I could meet her back up in our room and plow the hell out of her.

Unfortunately, she said she had decided to also get her hair done and wouldn’t be back to our room for another hour or so. I sat at the bar to collect my thoughts while trying cool off a bit, and then I paid my bill. The bartender, who had obviously been listening to me and Somi, gave me a look like I was crazy as I paid and left.

I took a quick dip into the ocean before heading back to my cabana. I thought for a quick second about heading to find Somi’s cabana but I knew I shouldn’t. As I approached my cabana, I seemed a little odd that the privacy flaps were closed. I just assumed that someone from the hotel staff closed them because it was unattended and I had left some stuff in there.

“Oh hey,” I heard a female voice casually say as I passed through the curtains.

“Ho-ly shit.”

“I guess I accidentally mixed up which cabana was mine,” Somi said as she laid on the patio couch in front of me. Resting against her elbow with her torso facing me. With the two pieces of her bikini crumbled into a ball on the coffee table, she was giving me an amazing view of her naked body. The hottest part about it was Somi had her legs split at almost a perfect 90-degree angle with one resting on the on the couch and the other pointing straight up in the air. I was speechless. I have no clue for how long or how many times my eyes scanned up and down her naked body. From her long perfect legs to her pussy with just a slight landing strip, to her tight toned stomach, to her perky b-cups with thick hard nipples just begging to be sucked and nibbled on, and finally up to her pretty face and mesmerizing eyes.

“Well, I guess you have seen me now,” she said as she slowly lowered her leg and used her free arm to rub and emphasize parts of her body, “It would only be fair you give me a peak now.”

“Okay,” I unconsciously agreed. I knew it was wrong, I was married, I was on my honeymoon, but she had me under her spell. I had been able to avoid earlier temptation since me and Yunjin had become official, including several attempts, last time being just a month before the wedding. This time, I just couldn’t say no. I moved the coffee table out of the way as I approached her, and then stood right in front of her face.

“Just so we’re clear,” I said as I undid the drawstring to my board shorts, “we’re not going to have sex.” I was hoping to keep some control over the situation and set up some boundaries.

“That’s fine,” she agreed. I then dropped my shorts and my hard cock sprang forward right in front of her face.

“Hmm, not bad. I’ve had bigger, but you still have a very nice cock.” She reached over and took hold of my shaft.

“Thanks,” I said as she slowly stroked me.

“By the way,” she looked up at me with her brown eyes and said, “oral doesn’t count.” Her eyes dropped back to my dick and she leaned forward. She gave my cock head a very sensual kiss, then stuck out her tongue and flicked it a few times against my tip. Any thought of leaving left my mind as soon as she closed her lips around my dick and began sliding more and more of me into her mouth.

“Oh fuck” I groaned as I rested one hand on the back of her head and she sucked me with earnest. My eyes were focused on her and her face until I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. Looking down the couch I saw her legs squirming as she used her off-hand to play with herself. God watching her play with herself, I wanted to do more.

“Fuck it, stand up,” I said as I took a step back, my cock slipping from her mouth.

“What? Why?”

“Just stand up and get off the couch.” She had a confused and upset look on her face as she got off the couch. Once she was off, I got on the couch and laid flat on my back. “If we’re going to do this, and oral doesn’t count, then we're going to do it right,” I told her and Somi’s face quickly went from frustrated to smiling. She quickly got on the couch, straddling my face before bending down over my cock. As she opened her mouth and lowered it around my dick, she also lowered her crotch onto my face. Soon we were in a full-blown 69 on the couch. The two of us loudly moaned without mouths full while we serviced each other.

My mouth moved around between lapping up her pussy to teasing her clit, all the while my hands had a firm grasp on her tight ass. As we continued, Somi continued to squirm around on top of me as she deep-throated me. While she humped my face, I occasionally had to move my hands around, and at one point I found one of my fingers resting on the outside of her anus. I did not realize it as I was too focused on my task of getting the gorgeous woman to cum, but Somi obvious felt it. She quickly sat up.

“Yes, do it!” She yelled. I tried to ask what she was talking about, but my voice was muffled by her continuing to sit on my face. She still seems to understand me though. “Your finger, stick in my ass,” she pleaded. It was then I realized where my index finger rested. Instead of giving her exactly what she wanted I took my finger away and shoved it and my middle finger into her pussy. I fingered her hard for 30 seconds, getting my fingers nice and wet, then pulled them from her pussy and drove my index finger into her ass.

“Uggghhhh yyessss!” She moaned as I began fingering her ass. She enjoyed my tongue on her clip and her finger in her ass before she went back down to sucking my cock. I could feel Somi moaning more and more around my cock until I felt her ass tighten around my finger and pussy gush on my face. Even after she came, she continued to suck my cock as I continued to tongue her pussy. We kept going until I could finally feel my impending orgasm approaching. I wanted to warn her but with my mouth still buried in her cunt, speaking was difficult. Instead, I used a free hand to give her ass two hard slaps. Somi moaned in response, but she also lifted her ass up a bit, anticipating another slap. With my mouth now free I told her what was coming. Somi quickly got off me and the couch and went to her knees on the ground.

“Quick stand up,” she told me, “I want you to watch. I want you to watch as you cover me in your cum.” I got up and stood in front her. She used both hands to jerk me off, staring up at me the entire time with a big dirty smile.'

“Oh fuck, uugggghhhh” I said as I came. Somi closed her eyes and stuck out her tongue as jets of cum continued to shoot out my dick. You would have thought it’d been days not hours since the last time I got off. When it was over Somi had streaks of my cum running down her face and breasts.

“Holy… wow,” I said when it was all over.

“Wow is right. You can eat pussy like that and your dick is still hard? No wonder Yunjin married you.” Looking down, Somi was still holding my shaft with one hand and I was still almost totally hard. “You sure about that no sex thing? I promise you, I’m worth it.”

I quickly declined, got dressed and left the cabana as soon as I could. I had no doubt that Somi was ‘worth it’ and given any time she would have gotten me to comply. As I headed back to our room, I texted Yunjin and said she would meet me up there in 10 minutes. Thanked god that I would beat her back to the room. As soon I was in, I tossed off my clothes and got into the shower to try and rub off any scent of Somi that might be on me. I made real sure to wash my face and to wash my fingers as well.

“Oh, is that for me?” Looking at the bathroom doorway I saw Yunjin standing there in her sundress. She had come back sooner than I thought, or maybe I was just taking a longer shower than I realized. The thing she was referring to, was, of course, the boner I was still sporting. Even as I showered to tried to get the smell of Somi off me, my mind could not help but think about what would have happened if I stayed and everything I would have done to her.

“Of course it is,” I lied. “Why don’t you take off that dress and come in here so I can give it to you?”

“I’d love to, but I just got my hair done and I want it to last this way at least until after dinner. When you’re done in there meet me out on the balcony.”

“Okay,” I agreed. Once she left, I gave myself one more quick scrub down with some of her scented soap. When I finished, I dried off, wrapped myself in a towel and headed out to the balcony. Yunjin was sitting in one of the chairs looking out at the ocean. She was sipping on a drink she made for herself and she had also used the mini bar to make me a rum and coke. I came up behind her and then bent down to give her a kiss. She kissed me back, and as we kissed, she playfully gave my towel a yank causing to fall off. We were high enough up that I didn’t have to worry about anyone looking up and seeing me nude. As we broke our kiss Yunjin ’s eyes looked down to my crotch and then back up to my eyes.

“Take a seat and just remember to not mess up my hair,” she told me. I sat down on the other chair as she got up. She took the pillow from the chair and tossed it to the ground at my feet. Knowing where this was going, I spread my legs as Yunjin dropped to her knees on top of the pillow.

“I love you,” she told me before proceeding to give me a blowjob on the hotel balcony. I told her I love her back as she slid her mouth all the way down my tool. As I sat there getting my shaft blown by Yunjin while I looked out at the ocean at a fancy tropical resort, I thought that I must have been crazy earlier to put any of this jeopardy. This was all I ever wanted for a long time and to put it at risk, even for someone like Somi, was madness. I then just sat back and enjoyed as my wife gave my balls a tongue bath and then went back to deep-throating me. Once I was set to blow Yunjin was once again all too happy to take my load in her mouth. Unlike this morning, she collected it all in her mouth and one I was done cumming she opened her mouth and swished her tongue around, showing me my load before swallowing.

Once that was over, she gave my cock another once over with her tongue, then returned to her seat. We drank and talked and watched the sunset over the water. She told me about what she was up to when at the salon, and I told her about hanging out at the beach. While I wasn’t sure it was the right move at the time, I told Yunjin that I had met Somi at the bar at the beach and that I talked to her for a bit. In my head, I thought if we ever ran into Somi it would be a lot easier to just act as we had met and nothing happened than for Yunjin to find out I had met Somi and for some reason never told her about it. Yunjin said she wished she was there when I meet Somi and that she was going to keep an eye out for her at the resort. Just like that, the topic of Somi was over. Yunjin got out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the sunset and then insisted we take some selfies in front of it. I quickly put a shirt and shorts on then came back out and let Yunjin pose me however she wanted for a bunch of pictures.

After the sun had set, we got ready for dinner. We were set to have dinner at the upscale restaurant at the resort. I put on a light-weight suit with a white shirt and no tie, leaving the top two buttons undone. Yunjin dressed in a light flowy blue dress that shows off her legs and cleavage, and a pair of scrappy knee-high peep-toe boots. When we got to the restaurant it was still nice out so we told the hostess to give us a seat outside. Yunjin asked her to also take a picture of us together before we took out seats. She was nice enough to take a few of us, Yunjin hugging tightly up against me in each one. Eventually, we sat down and began looking over the menu. We were seated for a few minutes when all of a sudden Yunjin called.

“Oh, Somi!” Yunjin was looking past me and waving at someone. “Babe look, it’s Somi,” Yunjin said. I turned around, and walking towards us next to the hostess was Somi. She had a big smile and was waving back at Yunjin . Somi was wearing a short white dress with black heels.

“Oh my god, hi,” Somi said as she came over to our table. Yunjin got up and the two women hugged. “Congratulations on getting married!”

“Thank you, I was hoping I would run into you after my husband said he met you today.”

“Oh, he told you about that?” Somi looked at me with her eyebrow raised.

“Yup. Just about how we met at the bar and talked a bit,” I said making sure Somi knew the story I told.

“So, who are you here with?” Yunjin asked.

“Oh, no one. I’m just here alone on vacation. Wanted to get away while I had time between projects.”

“That’s nice, but you shouldn't have to eat alone. Why don’t you join us?”

“Really? You don’t mind?” Yunjin insisted. I in the meanwhile did not like how this was going. More to the point, I didn’t know if Somi was just here just by coincidence or if it was to tease me. The hostess moved the three of us over to a larger table. Yunjin sat across the table from me and Somi sat between us. We ordered drinks first, with a bottle of wine to come when our food arrived.

“So how was the wedding?” Somi asked.

“Oh my god, it was amazing!” Yunjin pulled out her phone and began showing off some of the pictures and telling her about the details. The two were totally engrossed in details and went back and forth for a while.

“Wow sounds like it was perfect,” Somi said.

“Well, it had a few bumps,” I finally said.

“What bumps? My sister?” Yunjin asked knowing what I was talking about. “It wasn’t that bad, and it was a little funny.”

“I still say she did it on purpose. She may deny it, and you may not believe it, but I’m telling you that she hates being in your shadow.”

“Wait, what are you two talking about,” Somi spoke up.

“Yejin gave the singer of the band at our wedding a blowjob in the bathroom, and about halfway through his mic came on,” I explained. “Suddenly through the speakers, we could hear his heaving breathing her slurping on his dick. It took five minutes before anyone knew what the sound was or where it was coming from.” Somi burst out laughing, and I also couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Well at least the singer enjoyed himself at the wedding” Somi laughed

“Not as much as a couple of my husband’s groomsmen did,” Yunjin said.

“I still don’t get why you invited Ning to the wedding,” I said.

“Because I didn’t think she’d actually accept, and I wanted to rub my wedding in that bitch’s face” Yunjin replayed.

“Ning?” Somi questioned.

“Ning Yizhuo.”

“Oh, this must be good. I gotta hear this.”

“She fucked three of his groomsmen,” Yunjin said bluntly.

“Bullshit!” Somi yelled.

“Yep,” I told her. I took out my phone, opened a group chat, and handed it over to Somi. “Just scroll down and you’ll see the photos.”

“Oh wow,” Somi said as she scrolled.

“Yup two different guys during the wedding, and then all 3 in a hotel room afterward.”

“I still don’t get why she thought I��d care about her having sex with them. But she definitely made their night.”

“Wait, I thought you said she took 3 guys back to the hotel room, I only see two,” Somi said as she scrolled through the pictures.

“Third guy is taking the picture,” I told her.

“Right, that makes sense,” Somi asked if I had any photos of the wedding and I told her yes and where to find them. In general, it was all a very normal time. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was Yunjin was drinking a little more than usual. By the time our dinner and the wine arrived both women were on their third sex on the beaches.

“So how did you guys meet,” Somi asked. I knew Yunjin enjoyed telling the story, but it was also an edited version of the story that she liked to tell.

“Well, we went to the same gym and would see each other around, but never talked to one another. Then one night when I was leaving my car wouldn’t start, and he happens to be leaving as well and helped me out. He drove me home that night, drove me back the next day, and helped me find a good mechanic.” She left out the part where I asked her to flash me her tits as repayment for the ride and we ended up having sex in my car.

“Then for the next few months, we hung out a bit.” We were somewhere between friends with benefits and booty calls who’d occasionally grab dinner or see a movie together. “Then one morning something happened, we started fighting and both finally admitted we had real feelings for one another.” What happened was I ran into her sister at a club one night, we got drunk and ended up hooking. Yunjin found us both passed out naked on a lounge chair by her pool, my morning wood still inside her sister. “And ever since then, we’ve been together and totally in love.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, it is,” Yunjin said looking my way and rubbing her foot along my leg under the table. Dinner continued and by the time we finished eating Yunjin was drunk. She continued to rub against my leg periodically. Twice she fully pressed her foot up against my crotch. After our plates were taken away Somi ordered chocolate lava cake and a bottle of champagne,

“Oh one more thing,” she told the waitress “charge the whole dinner to my room.” The waitress nodded and walked back to the kitchen.

“Somi, you didn’t have to do that,” I said.

“It’s nothing, consider it a wedding gift.”

“That’s so sweet,” Yunjin said.

“I gotta tell you, Yunjin , I didn’t earlier, but I am starting to get why you married him.”

“What’s not to like? He’s handsome, he’s supportive, he’s funny, and the sex is great.”

“Yunjin!” I objected, but she and Somi just laughed.

“What, I’m not telling her anything I haven’t already told my friends,” Yunjin explained.

“So you’ve been enjoying your honeymoon,” Somi asked Yunjin.

“Oh yeah,” Yunjin gulped the rest of her wine. “Some guy’s brag about being able to go all night and whatever, but he really can. Ever since he got past the ‘oh wow I’m banging a celebrity’ phase, you know what I’m talking about?” Somi nodded in response. “Well, ever since then it’s been so good. Not that it wasn’t good before, but after, WOW.” Yunjin started to giggle.

“Well, that’s nice to know.” Somi placed her hand on my thigh. “You two really do seem to be in love though.”

“We are.” Yunjin reached across the table and took hold of my hand. “I’m so comfortable and trusting of him. I gotta tell you if he were some of the other exes, I’d be totally threatened by you. You are exactly his type,” Yunjin told Somi.

“I don’t have a type” I disagreed.

“Are you kidding? The first time I met your mom, she said I was so your type, but then she showed me pictures of some of his exes. All of them have those slender athletic bodies, boobs between a ‘B’ and a ‘C’, and don’t forget their big ass.”

“It does sound like you have a type.” Somi looked at me. Under the table, however, she had moved her hand up my thigh. I was about to say something, but Somi pulled back as a server arrived with our dessert and champagne.

“Look, I should at least let you two have desert alone,” Somi said as she stood up from the table. Yunjin told her that she didn’t need to leave, but Somi said it’s fine.

Just she’s about to left, she said “I hope to see you again soon,” all the while looking right at me. Yunjin didn’t notice this, but I did. The two of us ate desert alone, and when we finished, we headed back up to our room. I told Yunjin to bring the bottle of champagne with us since we both only had a single glass and it was already paid for.

After dinner, Yunjin was very drunk and very horny. We made out passionately in the elevator. By the time we got to our floor, Yunjin had her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist. I carried her that way down the hallway to our room. I had to stop kissing Yunjin so I could see where I was going, so she started kissing biting my neck. She seemed very intent on giving me a series of hickies.

When we got to our room, I put her down and we quickly left a trail of clothing to the bedroom. Once we reached it, I was naked and Yunjin was left in nothing but her boots. She stood there still hold the champagne bottle. I took the bottle from her and I began pouring some of it down her chest. I did my best to drink it off her as I poured. Sucking it off her tits, chest, and stomach.

I then gently pushed her so she fell backward onto the bed, her legs still hanging off the edge. I filled her belly button with champagne, did a body shot off her, and then repeated the process a few times. When I was satisfied, I dropped down to my knees on the floor in front of the bed and poured the rest of the champagne all over my wife’s pristine pussy. Yunjin moaned loudly and wrapped her legs around my neck as I began lapping up her cunt. When I could taste not more champagne, I spread apart her lips and buried my tongue into her pussy.

I have loved eating her out, and I loved listening to the moans she makes when I do it. Since that day I had learned a lot tricks of her body and knew what she liked and when she liked it. I knew when was the right moment to move up to her clit and to suck on it, when to flick it with my tongue, when to rub her clit and when to finger her, and on a rare occasion when she wanted her nipples tweaked. That’s how five minutes after first sticking my tongue into her, I was now working towards her second orgasm.

I had my lips on her clit while I used two fingers to finger her. I had Yunjin holding her legs up to her torso, keeping her thighs wide apart. Between the booze and the bliss, Yunjin was lost in her own little world. I sucked on and flicked her clit while I finger blasted her. I could hear her moans quickening. I knew she was getting close. I moved my mouth away and placed my thumb up against her clit. I then used my arm as a jackhammer as I fingered her. I soon had her cumming, but I didn’t slow down. I kept on going. The room filled with the sound of wet skin slapping as my hand and her pussy was now covered in her juices. I knew I was getting close and a minute later my wife screamed and began squirting like a fire hydrant. Yunjin rarely ever squirted, but when she was drunk and really, really horny it was possible. When it was over I took my hand away and stood up over Yunjin.

“Fuck me, seriously?” I said as I looked upon Yunjin naked, well pleased, body. I had apparently done too good of a job because she had passed out on the bed. Knowing from experience she was not going to wake up until morning. I now stood at the end of the bed with a cock as hard as steel, and nowhere to put it. I mean I could just go ahead and have sex with her anyway. We’d both had sex with the other before while the other was asleep or passed out, and with little guilt at all. However, something about doing it to my wife on our honeymoon didn’t feel right. I decided to just call it a night and take care of myself, but first I had to tuck Yunjin into bed. I took off her boots and then picked her up and slipped her under her covers. When she was safely settled, I put two bottles of water and some Excedrin on her nightstand, I then went over to the couch, opened my laptop, and started to type in one of my favorite free video sites.

As the site loaded, I suddenly heard a text on my phone. I had no clue who could be texting me. It was 1 AM, When I opened the message it was pictures of two fingers holding open pussy lips of a pussy I recognize really well from my up close view this past afternoon. It also came with a note that read “in case you’re interested in a midnight snack” along with her room number. The name of the saved contact was ‘Beach Buddy’.

I quickly texted back “When did you save your number to my phone?” She quickly texted back three messages.

“Wow, that was a fast response. What happens to can go all night? Also, you should really pay more attention to your phone when you hand it to strangers.”

I knew I shouldn’t respond. Between the picture, I was sent and the memory of this afternoon, I had more than enough material to get me off before bed. I knew this in my head, but it wasn’t the head on my shoulders that was doing the thinking at the moment. I texted back, “She said I could last all night, she never said that she could.”

“Aww, poor baby. Why don’t you come up and we can talk about it? Or… if you don’t want to talk, I’m sure we can find something else to do.” I thought about texting her back, but I knew there was no point. The moment I answered her text I knew how this was going to end. I took my phone, slipped on some shoes, put on some gym shorts and a t-shirt. I made my way to the room number I had been given and knocked on the door. I waited for a minute and the door finally opened.

“You win. Let’s do this” I said as I pushed past her and entered the room.

“You could sound a little more excited,” Somi said as she closed and locked the door. She had her hair down and appeared to only be wearing a pink silk robe. “I mean…” I didn’t let her finish. I pulled her to me and slipped my tongue into her mouth. After momentarily being caught surprised by my action, Somi started kissing me back. I pinned her against the wall and we continued to make out, my hands roamed all over her body. Somi began lifting my shirt and we broke off our kissing.

“Am I excited enough for you now?” I asked as I took off my shirt and pressed up against her a little more, making sure she could feel my hard cock against her. Somi gave a dirty little giggle as she felt me against her.

“Oh, those are new,” Somi said as she could now see the marks Yunjin left along my neck.

“Yeah, Yunjin can be a little aggressive when she drinks, though I think she’ll be as surprised as you are in when she wakes up in the morning.”

“Really, she’s that out?”

“Oh yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her that drunk.”

“Good, then she’ll never know if I give you a few of my own.” She raised up and began biting and sucking on the side of my neck, meanwhile I slipped my hand under her robe and found her wet pussy. Somehow her pussy felt even smoother than it had just hours earlier on the beach.

“We should take this to the bedroom,” she seductively whispered into my ear when she was satisfied with the work she had done to my neck. I eagerly agreed and stepped back and let her lead the way. She took a couple of steps then stopped and looked back over her shoulder at me. I then watched as her rope slowly slipped off her shoulders before falling to the floor. I almost began to drool as the ass that first got me to notice her at the bar was now on full display for me. Somi laughed as she saw the pure lust in my eyes and then ran off to the bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants as I chased after her. When I got there, I saw her smiling brightly as she sprawled out on the bed. As I looked up her long shapely legs, I noticed something different between her legs.

“You shaved,” I said as I crawled onto the bed. Her landing strip from earlier today was now gone.

“I hoping tonight would be a special night. Care to see how it feels...with your tongue?” she asked.

“Normally I’d love to, but I’ve had enough foreplay today.” Remembering how she looked when I first saw her in that cabana, I knew exactly how I wanted her. I picked up one of her legs and lifted it straight up into her air as I moved in between her legs. Taking my cock, I rubbed it against her already wet and freshly shaved cunt. Once my dick was nice and wet, I pushed forward. Somi moaned and her eyes rolled back as she felt my cock head pierce her. I slid all the way inside and enjoyed the feeling of her tight warm pussy around my cock. Her pussy felt different but just as good as Yunjin. I soon slowly started to build up tempo.

“Ummmm….yyyeeeessss… give it to me. Harder,” Somi pleaded. I was not there for slow sensual love-making like what me and Yunjin had done the night prior. I was there to fuck and Somi wanted me there to get fucked. As a result, I soon had the bed shaking as I pounded her pussy with my cock. I still had one of Somi’s legs pressed up against my chest, pointed straight up as I banged her and looked down at her.

“Tell me you want me,” Somi begged.

“I want you.”

“Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“I want to fuck you so hard that at worst you will have problems walking tomorrow, and at best you end up shattering your pelvis.”

“Fuck!” she called out. Looking down at her, I found my eyes locked on her breast, glistening with sweat, and her hard nipples. They looked so tempting, I couldn’t resist anymore. Moving her leg down I sat with my legs out and pulled her on top of me. Somi wrapped her arms and legs around me and I lowered my head to her chest. Now in the lotus position, we continued to fuck as my mouth toyed with her nipple. Somi was loving it. She pressed my head firmly against her tits as she bounced on my lap, only ever loosening her grip on my head as I switched from the right one to the left and vice versa.

“I’m so close,” she moaned. “Lay back, let me take over.” I did what she asked and laid down on the bed. She put her hand on my chest, leaned forward and let the hips do the rest. Those years of performing on stage had really done her well as she moves her hips quickly. Her moans and breath quickened I knew she was getting close, I put my hands on her hips as she rode me until she finally came all over my cock. As she came, I pulled her hips all the way down. With my dick all the way buried in orgasming Somi, I let go myself and shot my load deep into her.

“Oh wow,” Somi moaned as she dropped to my chest. I took a minute to catch my breath and then rolled us over. I was still hard inside Somi and ready to go again. With Somi on her back, I moved to my knees again and put the gorgeous woman legs on my shoulders.

“Gawd, Yunjin wasn’t lying about you, was she,” Somi said as I began pounding her again.

“Nah-uh, we’ve just gotten started,” I told her as my cock pumped in and out of her. My previous load now leaking out of her as I fucked her. We fucked like this for a while longer. She came again as I rubbed her clit and she played with her nipples as we fucked. I knew I was getting close again, but I still had time.

“Roll over, I wanna do it from behind,” Somi happily obliged. She made some comment about how all guys want to with her, but I wasn’t really listening. I was watching as she rolled over and instead if getting on all fours, she moved to the top of the bed and grabbed the headboard and stuck out her ass. I quickly moved in behind her and slammed my dick back into her. I loved watching her ass jiggle as we fucked.

“Remember earlier,” Somi said through gritted teeth as she looked back at me, “My ass. Stick your finger in my ass.” I gave my finger a long suck, I could still taste Yunjin on it, making it nice and wet.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Somi yelled as I fucked and fingered her ass. “You can fuck my ass you know. I got lube in the nightstand. You can stick your big, hard, married cock in my ass. When was the last time Yunjin let you do that?” I gave Somi’s ass a hard slap for insulting Yunjin, and because an ass like hers is hard not to spank.

“The morning after our wedding actually. Right before we had brunch with her parents and friends. As for the lube, we won’t need that.” I kept pounding her. Somi’s ass quivered as she climaxed once again. As I felt my cum rising from my balls, I pulled out of the Fast Forward singer. With one hand pumping my cock, I used the other to spread her ass cheeks. With my dick pointed at the target, I came all over her puckered asshole.

When I finished cumming I did not waste much time. I used my cock to spread my cum all over her asshole before I started to push the head into her puckered hole. Somi let out a loud groan as my cock head slipped in and then moaned as she pushed back, letting more and more of my shaft into her. I began banging her in the ass, though at a slower pace than before. At first, just to loosen her up a bit, but after a little while, it was just because I was physically exhausted. My cock and head were willing, but my body just couldn’t keep up with the fucking I had given Somi before. Even still we went at it for a few minutes. I gave her tight ass a few more smacks. I could see my red handprint starting to show up on her.

Feeling me slowing down Somi once again decided to take command of the situation. Again having me lay flat on my back, she then got something from her nightstand before mounting me reverse cowgirl. I watched as she pointed my cock towards the ceiling and then lowered her ass down. Somi looked back at me as she started bouncing her ass on my cock. I then heard the sound of something vibrating and Somi began crying out louder than ever. She had pulled out her vibrator and was using it to toy with her clit as she fucked her as with my hard-on. Somi came two more times before I finally painted her colon with my third load of the night.

When it was over I stayed down on the bed and caught my breath. Somi got down and cuddled up next to me. We stayed like this in silence for about 10 minutes. I knew what I had just done was wrong, and Yunjin would be devastated if she ever found out, but damn I would have done it all over again. Yunjin was right, Somi was my very much my type and she was also a hell of a fuck.

Looking over at the clock it was now getting to be early morning and I knew I had to leave. I told Somi I needed to use her shower. I turned on the water and began to soap up when Somi, still naked, walked into the bathroom with my clothes and put them on the counter. Instead of then heading back to bed, she then opened the shower door and got in with me. She stood behind me and washed my back. I could feel her breast press into my back, as she began reaching around washing my cock. Soon enough she had me hard again and she blew me once again until I came all over her face. She then said goodbye and went to bed. I finished up in her shower, got dressed, and snuck back to my room. It was passed 6:30 am when I got back to my room. Thankfully Yunjin was still passed out and looked like she had hardly moved since I tucked her in. I then stripped off my clothes, got back into my honeymoon bed and wrapped myself around my wife, before drifting off into a deep well-needed sleep.

#yunjin smut #somi smut #le sserafim smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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luvingspence · 1 year

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𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩

early seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer gets emotional once he realises how much his girlfriend loves him <3

also spot the taylor swift and twilight reference girlies! and apologies for how cheesy this is, it’s very rushed bc exams so it isn’t proofread :(

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His apartment felt different now that she was here. There was more colour, her pink slippers were next to his, she now kept tulips in a lovely patterned vase in the kitchen, and there was now a thrifted clothing rack in the corner of their shared bedroom for the clothes that refused to fit in the large oak wardrobe.

The atmosphere felt altered too. The candles she burned smelled warm, he now couldn’t wait to come home, compared to how he used to feel. Knowing he would be coming home to an apartment that wasn’t empty and lonely filled him with a feeling that was almost indescribable. It was like having butterflies in his stomach, but all so much more than that. Something in his chest blossomed and happiness spread to every corner of his body when he saw her perched on the sofa with her fingers skimming the pages of one of his books, or when he saw her in one of his sweaters with the most adorable frilly apron around her waist when baking in the kitchen.

Though, today was an unusual day off. By some miracle, Hotch had managed to convince Strauss to get another team on-call for the coming week. After three back-to-back cases, all lasting a week long, Aaron knew his team needed to sleep in their own beds.

So there he was, in thick, odd socks many sizes too big for him, a green cable knit sweater, and grey plaid-pyjama trousers on his sofa watching re-runs and more re-runs, waiting for his girlfriend to come home. It felt strange to be the one at home for once, but it was pleasant.

“Spence, honey.” Manicured fingers carded through his long-ish hair, he jumped. She giggled.

“Sorry, you looked like you were about to doze off there,” She circled around from the back of the sofa and sat next to him, thighs touching and arms now tangled together, “guess you didn’t hear me come in, huh?”

“Guess not.” He bashfully winced, embarrassed by his skittishness.

“How was your day off then, genius?” Whilst inquiring about his day she pulled a blanket that Penelope had bought Spencer off from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around them.

“Good, it was good.” He leaned his head on her shoulder and cuddled closer. “It was going to read today but I just watched Doctor Who re-runs, I don’t get to do that often.”

“Sounds good, honey.” Y/n smiled softly and kissed his forehead, “you of all people need a lazy day every now and then.”

Spencer silently nodded and slide further down the sofa so he could rest his sofa against her chest. He felt something cold and metallic against his chest. A curious hum escaped his lips. “What’s wrong, honey?”

He sat up straight, now looking down at his sweet girlfriend. He brought his hand to her chest and fingered at the new metal handing from her neck.

It was a cute little golden locket. It looked to be vintage. It was oval in shape and had floral patterns and vines creating a lovely botanic boarder around the locket.

“This new?” He mumbled, still twirling the locket between nimble fingers.

“Oh this?” Y/n softly smiled down and wrapped a gentle hand around Spencer’s wrist while he played with the chain, “Yeah, it’s new. I saw it in a little vintage shop when I was out with Penny last week. It’s cute, right?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” It did look adorable. It fell neatly just below her collarbones. It was a very her necklace. He imagined it would look well with all of her clothes, especially the sundresses and lacy tanks she loved so much. “It’s very pretty. You look very pretty.”

“You’re the sweetest, Spence.” She grinned widely. She ducked her head and laid chaste pecks along his neck before resuming their cuddling. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled her close and ran his fingers down the side of her arm, his fingers touched her so gently it felt like he was barely there. It was a sweet, rare moment of uninterrupted peace for the couple.

Spencer though, his brain was still whirring. Why hadn’t he noticed the locket this past week? It was more than unusual for him to not notice something new about Y/n. Maybe he should ask.

“Have you been wearing this all week?” She shook her head.

“No, it’s a locket! I didn’t want to wear it empty.” She giggled, she removed her head from it’s place on her boyfriends shoulder and fiddled with the locket’s opening.

“Did you put a picture of Taylor Swift or that other singer you like in there?” He chuckled.

“Lana Del Rey?” She corrected, “and honestly, I thought about it, but no.” She glanced up at him and smiled, he noticed a flustered expression on her face.

Once she got the locket open, he saw it. In a heart shapes frame inside the pretty locket, was an even prettier picture of the two of them. How she managed to get a photo small enough of the two of them to fit inside the locket, he was clueless.

“It’s us?” His voice became quiet, his pink lips formed a small pout.

The picture was simple, they had been out with friends in the summer. He was casual attire, which was a very rare occurrence, ordinary black trousers and a beige cable-knit sweater with his usual converse. Y/n was a sight to behold, however. Perched on his lap comfortably in adorable sandal-wedges and a sweet white sundress, she was planting a loving kiss on Spencer’s cheek while he grinned at the camera.

“Of course it’s us,” She looked down as if she had a reason to be embarrassed, “I know it’s cheesy but, I just… I don’t know. I love you. Like, a lot.”

He was for once, speechless.

He suddenly felt like the young, timid, and perpetually awkward twelve year old version of himself with too-long hair and glasses a little too big for the bridge of his nose. Never, and he could not stress the never enough, had he thought that would find someone who cared and loved for him in such a pure, wholesome, unabashed way.

“I love you.” He quickly said. He had never been more sure of anything.

She cooed, obviously enamoured with the man before her. “I know you do, Spence.”

“No, I mean,” He took a shaky breath, “I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. Loving you and being loved by you has made me feel a form of happiness I never thought possible for a person like me. Before I experienced this, love, I thought it would be simple, black and white, but it’s so golden. You’re my golden.”

He’d lifted her hand to his mouth and gingerly placed a teary kiss on the back of her palm. He didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go.

He’d never let her go if she’d let him.

“Spence, honey,” She sniffled. Making her cry hadn’t been his intention, obviously, but he assumes that from her giddy smile and softened gaze that they were tears of happiness, of love, of all things good. “I’m golden?”

He only nodded, but that was all she needed.

“You’re my golden too, Spencer.”

#kacey talks <3 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #taylor swift references #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #mgg #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fluff #x fem!reader

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sluttywoozi · 8 months

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Kinktober Day 1: Breeding Kink + Joshua

For 🧊

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: 633

Pairing: Joshua x Reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: breeding kink, mention of bc and sti testing, orgasm delay, cumming together, creampie

Reader Notes: has a vagina

Joshua doubts you expected this when you told him about your new birth control, when you told him that as long as the tests were clear, you wouldn’t need condoms anymore. But here you are, bent over the bed with your dress shoved up and your panties pulled to the side, your cunt stuffed to the brim with his aching cock.

“Take it, baby. Take it all,” Joshua groans through gritted teeth, his hands tight on your hips and his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every stroke. He already came inside you once and he can feel it, oh fuck, he can feel it. You were wet before, you always get so damn wet for him, but now he’s gliding inside you, a squelch accompanying each thrust. He can see a thick ring of white around the base of his cock and his thighs are shining with the combination of your cum and his, but it’s still not enough.

“Gonna breed you full,” he promises, nearly feral with the idea of pumping even more of his seed into you, enough to spill out, enough to sti-

Well, it won’t stick now, but maybe someday, Joshua thinks. Your answering moan is muted in the duvet but he hears you anyway, grips you just a bit tighter, fucks you just a bit harder. His cock twitches in you when your walls start to flutter around him, but he’s not ready to cum again yet. He’s got one, maaaaybe two left in him, and he wants to make them count.

He also wants to cum together, like (almost) always. Of course, he pushes you over the edge without him sometimes, but when possible, he loves getting to reach that high together. It makes him feel closer to you, makes everything feel ten times better, makes his orgasms last so long they leave him breathless.

“Wait, honey, wait for just a little longer. Let me savor you.”

And savor you he does.

He bends over your body, grinds into you deep and heavy, laying kisses over the exposed parts of your neck and back. He doesn’t bother to hold back his sounds, never holds back with you, always wants you to know exactly how much he wants you.

You whine, shivering beneath him, and he digs his teeth into the curve of your throat, not enough to bruise but enough to sting. You moan his name, your back arching and your hips tilting, and suddenly, he can fit inside you to the root. He feels your walls clamp down around his cock, feels the drag of his veins against the rippling muscles of your cunt, feels the magma start to gather low in his stomach, and knows that you’re done waiting.

You moan high and sweet as you shatter, your pussy locking him deep inside you and practically milking the hot cum from him. It’s pavlovian for him to break as soon as you do, but it’s so new and delicious and life-altering to be filling you up instead of a condom. He thinks you like it too, your weak whimpers of, “Give it to me,” going straight to his cock and pulling out a dry, mind bending orgasm that leaves him collapsed over you and panting.

His head spins, his heart races, his vision blurs, and still, it’s not enough. He just can’t stop jerking inside of you, his hips bucking without his permission as your walls squeeze him tight, and even with all of the cum filling you up, he still wants to pump you with more.

Joshua wonders if it will ever be enough. If two loads weren't, what will be?

He doesn’t know, but he’s an optimist before anything else so he’ll just have to go for three.

Kinktober Masterlist

Taglist: @aaniag @shuabby1994 @gyuwoncheol @aestheticsluut @bahng-chrizz @princessjazzyjazz @8queenc8 @soonhoonietrash @carat-deobi-writes @chans-wife @scuzmunkie @hipsdofangirl @onlyoneofdeeznutz @charmante-mp3 @honestlydopetree @hyneyedfiz @ngengngeng @plskillme22 @5xiang @onedumbho3 @tigerhoshi25 @ener-energy @heavenly-mobo @kingleysworld @iammisstora @jadeblackwoll @gyuhanniescarat @horanghater @shuadotcom @crookedwolfruins @pegdenki @burningupp-replies @flickhurstyles @yearnoclock @yoonguurt @itza-meee @riiley @xxtingz @wonuqrtz @dkswife @onlyyjeonghan @northerngalxy @ikooca @replay-by-shinee @weebotakuboy @ellesmoon @tomodachiii @kyeominara @lissiesykes @thepoopdokyeomtouched @mixling-blog @jadeblackwoll @luvkpopp @tunaasan @sliceofwoozi

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#svthub #kvanity #joshua x reader #joshua fanfic #joshua scenarios #joshua smut #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #joshua x you #hong joshua x reader #✨em's kinktober✨#✨emily writes✨#svt kinktober #seventeen kinktober

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sarahghetti · 3 months

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moving day; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: how marc and steven learn to live together, how you come to live with them, and how jake finally lets himself live at all.

warnings: basically a BIG character study into our boys, fluff, hurt and comfort, angst, insecurity, mentions of marc's childhood, mentions of violence, suggestive content but nothing explicit.

word count: 9.9k

notes: this one got away from me and might also be the best thing I've ever written (i'm very proud of it 😭). part of the @MOONKNIGHT-EVENTS bingo! prompt: “'is that my shirt?'”

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

Even though it was (and still is) under Marc’s name, the flat was Steven’s first. Marc just helped set it up a little.

He rented out the first decent unit he found in the city and kept every piece of mismatched furniture the previous tenant left behind. The essentials had to be filled in himself—a bed, couch, and desk. A table to go with that rickety stool to eat meals on, a coat rack near the doorway. The only belongings of his own that Marc left behind were his old Egyptology texts, unceremoniously shoved into a corner of one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that he hoped Steven would like.

(The fish was unexpected, though. Steven already had everything he would need, and it was Marc’s mistake to be scrolling through Facebook Marketplace on one of his last days before he handed it all over to his alter. A complete aquarium set was being offered for next to nothing; attached: a photo of the original poster’s late goldfish. Backlit from the tank light, blank faced and innocent.

He just couldn’t move on.)

But it was Steven who then took Marc’s—their—card and ran with it. Every free surface was prime real estate for another journal, another tomb. The used bookstores of London never stood a chance; it was almost impressive to watch him scour the shelves for the most esoteric topics and still come out with his arms full of what he was looking for. Marc would wake up in the body to find Steven’s collection a little bigger than before and ghost his fingers over the spines during those brief moments of respite before having to put on the suit.

It didn’t stop at the books. Of course, it didn’t. Steven’s always had an affinity for oddities. Marc wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the new paper lantern hung over the living room, or the pumpkin-esque footstool that was coloured as though it was plucked off the vine just a tad too early.

The pieces were quaint at best. If there were any psychological meaning as to why his alter gravitated towards dingy, threadbare upholstery instead of an IKEA like a normal person, it was beyond Marc.

However, he couldn’t not admit that it all kind of worked once put together; the clashing mix of materials and colours sort of became its own style when combined under the wooden rafters. Even when the books started overfilling the storage capacity and ended up in piles on the floor—it only added to the charm.

Marc was sure to erase every trace of his presence around the flat to avoid interfering with Steven’s life, but that didn’t stop the sense of longing to return to their—Steven’s—home during missions.

It was still a mess. A mess where everything has its place, yes, but there was no way that Steven could trip over several odds-and-ends in one day and claim that he was any degree of neat or tidy. Marc silently griped to himself about it all the time, but he’d sooner eat that dusty-ass rug Steven got for free before he saw anything get thrown away.

(It was like this back when they were kids, too. Marc’s childhood bedroom in Chicago—a room he never finds himself thinking about outside of his nightmares—was filled with joy. Medals from peewee baseball. Posters from his favourite movies, carefully smoothened out and taped to the walls by his dad. Drawings by him and Randall piled at the corner of his desk.

Right after the—the accident, all his stuff remained, immortalized in place. As if keeping everything the same would somehow also make Marc’s life the same as it was before, and Randall would come bursting through his door at any moment to ask him to come play. It was an overarching belief in their household. Even on her worst days, his mother’s anger never touched their home. Only him.

But then things began to change. His old action figures, collecting dust, would be strewn about the floor, waiting for someone to continue the battle. A collection of particularly smooth rocks began appearing on his windowsill despite the fact that he hadn’t gone outside in days. He’d wake up to grass-stained jeans and a scraped knee which Marc didn’t know how he got, for once.

Steven has always been like a crow, bringing all these little gifts for Marc to enjoy—these signs of life—even when he wasn’t aware of it.)

Coming back from Cairo feels like it should’ve been a bigger deal than it was, but after the dust settled on Harrow and Layla decided to return stateside alone—a decision that seemed a long time coming, if Steven’s being honest—there was nothing else to do other than to go home.

They have one blissful, uninterrupted day of sleep. Steven was the one to wake up sixteen hours later, mouth dry, and instinctively panicked at the thought of losing days again before realizing that Marc was also (and still is) out cold.

When he finally woke up a few hours later, half-asleep even in the reflection of the mirror, Steven couldn’t help himself from asking, “What now, Marc?”

Because Marc was the original. Marc was the one with a real life and legal status. He might never want to walk the streets of Chicago again, but that didn’t change the fact that he only came overseas to run away. Everything around them was a temporary measure.

Marc straightens. “I won’t bother you too much, I promise.”

“You still have your own life,” Steven reminds him.

“Still—”

“Oh, don’t start—”

At least they agreed on one thing: they were going to stay in London.

Marc cleans out his storage unit, bringing home an array of bins and duffel bags and that shitty fold-up cot that he still refuses to toss. Steven immediately got him his own dresser when Marc tried to insist that he ‘didn’t have much’; that was a blaring warning that he was about to do something stupid and sacrificial, and Steven had to put his foot down before a nearby charity got a donation of some well-loved button-downs.

It’s almost funny, how predicable Marc was when unpacking. Steven watched as he pushed all their new furniture against the walls then methodically unpacked bin by bin, stacking the empties inside one another like Russian dolls. Like Steven, everything he owned had a place, even after months spent stored away. Marc was just a lot more neat about it.

“Move my stuff if you want,” Steven pipes up. Marc doesn’t react, only continuing to store his notebooks on top of a filing cabinet. “Really, I’ve already read everything on that middle shelf there—we can put them somewhere else.”

Marc glances around the bookshelves. “Aren’t these alphabetized?”

“Well, mostly, but give me an hour or two and I’ll free up some space.”

It’s like a puzzle, and Steven’s always liked puzzles. Marc’s gone quiet in their head, out of excuses as to why he can just shove all his belongings out-of-sight so that Steven wouldn’t have to go through the effort. Now, if he would just believe Steven, then he’d know that reorganizing his books was hardly any effort at all.

And even if it was—he’s been meaning to do this for a while. An alphabetized collection is great until he gets a new book, because then everything has to be shifted over, and—well. There’s a reason why there were so many books languishing on the floor.

They pass off the body like that for the rest of the day, moving things around in the flat in order to accommodate Marc. It looks no less hectic in the end, despite Marc’s best efforts to tidy up a little, but it also doesn’t look any worse, which Steven sees as a win.

There are still so many things they need to talk about. Scheduling, routines, the fact that they’re currently both out of a job—either one would be lying if they said that this new life didn’t make them a bit nervous. But when Marc finally flops down onto their bed, a movement as easy as breathing, the pieces begin to settle into place. The last of his bins have been put away. His jacket hangs beside Steven’s as if it’s always been there.

In the headspace, Steven beams. Whatever comes, however hard—they’ll face it together.

Somehow, Steven wakes up one day and feels great.

There are a few minutes more until his alarm goes off, but he turns it off early. The usual grogginess that accompanies him this early is completely absent, and he rolls up to a seated position without a single mental or physical protest. He feels so good, in fact, that he even considers skipping his morning cup of tea.

(He doesn’t, of course. They quickly figured out—well, Steven did, Marc already knew—that they differed in their caffeinated beverages of choice. Steven, a strong cup of Yorkshire Gold with a healthy splash of milk and a teaspoon or two of sugar. Marc, a simple drip coffee, black, made from the most generic-looking brand of medium roast beans.

Not to say that he wishes to be separate from Marc or anything of the sort, but Steven imagines his feelings to be like that of a sibling who was always dressed in matching clothes as his brother. Marc might’ve graced Steven with an interest in Egyptology from his mercenary work and Gus from his—their?—brother’s drawing a lifetime ago, but as far as they know, his preference for tea was just a quirk.

Steven likes having something just for him.)

Marc had the body last night—he must’ve gone to bed early. Must’ve drank camomile tea and avoided blue light the entire time he was fronting because Steven could run a marathon like this and still go into work afterwards. He’s about to ask Marc for his secret when he spots an unfamiliar rumple of fabric on the pillow where he laid his head.

“What’s this now?” Steven murmurs, gathering the soft material in his hands. A woman’s sweater, obviously, with its feminine cut and style and faintly sweet scent that short-circuits his brain for a moment.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize how it got inside their flat, what with how there’s a whole other person living in his head, and it would explain the strange marks he found on his neck the other day—

Heat blooms in his face and Steven nearly drops the sweater back onto the pillow in embarrassment. Distantly, he knows that he should’ve seen this coming. Marc is Marc; Steven’s witnessed the quiet confidence the man extrudes from inside their headspace and the resulting, ah, attention it attracts.

In the corner of his eye, his reflection stills. Steven doesn’t even bother turning around—just holds up the offending sweater and asks, “Fun night?”

Marc, strangely, is quiet. It’s not like he’s one to talk about his romantic pursuits, but Steven at least expected a dry comment or two. He shakes the sweater like a bag of treats until Marc scowls. “Stop that.”

“Not judging,” Steven says, “but don’t suppose you got a number? Should I make a run to the donation bin for you?”

“No.” There’s an edge to Marc’s voice, and he purses his lips when he realizes that he responded a little too fast; Steven’s questioning look is pointedly ignored. “Just leave it on my desk for now.”

“Is she coming back or is this just like a—” Steven makes an ambiguous gesture, full of innuendo “—thing for you?”

“What? No—what?”

“Okay, okay,” Steven finally lets up because the groove between his alter’s eyebrows has become something fierce. He slips out of bed to place the sweater on Marc’s desk as requested, then throws one more comment over his shoulder for good measure, “Bring her home for dinner one day, would you?”

“Steven!”

“Is that my shirt?” You move towards the armchair, a smile tugging at your lips as you pick up the folded garment. It’s been freshly laundered. Marc wouldn’t burden you if he could help it.

“Mhm.” He doesn’t stir from his seat on the couch, tracking your movements with fondness in his eyes. You’ve been to their place plenty over the past few months and quietly, he relishes in the domesticity.

They’re simple things, like knowing your preferred spoon in their drawer or how you like your toast; the ease in which you curl into the cushions next to him—your spot, he can’t help but note—draws a contented little sigh from him.

“You know, if you want me to do your laundry, you can just ask.”

He would. Steven would prod endlessly as he does with all things related to you, but Marc’s managed to get this far with vague explanations and stubborn hand-waving. He’d endure the nosiness if it were for you.

“Although,” he continues, giving you a once-over. His eyebrow quirks at the familiar cotton long-sleeve enveloping your torso. “I’m not even sure you have laundry anymore.”

“Well, maybe if your clothes weren’t so comfortable, I’d stop stealing them,” you tease.

(His clothes aren’t boring, Steven, just—utilitarian. Between Khonshu and his mercenary work, Marc needed plain, flexible pieces; ones that made him blend in anywhere and ready for anything. Nothing that he could get too attached too, either. Everything he wore was at risk of getting ruined by grime and/or blood and/or tearing from various weapons. Of course, he doesn’t own anything ‘nice.’

Not like Steven. Not with his hodgepodge closet filled with colours and patterns, everything just a tad too large on their frame. Marc groans about it every time he takes over in the middle of the day—just a size down, just one. But the issue is that Steven likes it like that, likes the comfort and roominess he finds in his thrifted pieces, and so Marc dropped it as a serious topic, even though he still doesn’t quite get it.)

“This why you had to wear my jacket the other day?”

Steven’s sudden appearances don’t phase Marc anymore, even when you’re around. He just gives him a slight nod without missing a beat. “At this rate, I won’t have any clothes left for you to take.”

“Guess I’ll just have to borrow something from Steven then, hm?”

Before Marc can even begin to think about what to say to that— “I think my white jumper would suit her really well.”

He shoots a glare into a nearby mirror and just barely catches a glimpse of Steven’s grin in the reflection. Part of him wants to tell Steven to stop hitting on his girlfriend, but hesitates when you look at him expectantly, still waiting for his response.

He’s not ashamed of Steven, far from it. Still, a sliver of self-consciousness worms its way into his chest at the thought of talking to him in front of you. He’s done it before, but—he knows how it can look.

You’re more perceptive than he’d like. Marc sees the moment when it clicks in your head. “Is he here right now?”

Excitement bleeds into your voice. You’ve been wanting to meet Steven for a while. Marc showing up to a date with tousled curls and a colourfully-printed button-up instead of his usual streamlined style, a slew of scribbled papers piled onto the armchair you like to lounge on, a sticky note left on one of your books (‘oooh good choice! x’)—all these things that sent panic strumming through his veins were only ever endearing to you, for some reason. It’s lessened his worry by orders of magnitude.

Still. Letting you meet Steven is one step closer to talking about his childhood. His mom. His brother. He’s given you a high- high-level view of things (“It wasn’t great.”), but the thought of going any further makes his throat tighten. There’s a whole failed marriage that proves his inability to be vulnerable.

So, it must truly be a bout of madness that makes him say, “The white one.”

“What?”

“The white sweater,” Marc continues, because he’s already thrown himself off the bridge—there’s no use trying to backtrack now. “He says you’d look good in his white sweater.”

Your face slowly morphs into an expression of pure joy; you do nothing short of jump off the couch to bolt to their bedroom. Steven chatters excitedly in his ear, only pausing momentarily when you slip off Marc’s shirt.

“Oh! Um! She’s—she’s very—wow—" Marc feels the strangest urge to punch himself in the face again—

—And then you reappear into their field of view, a dream in fine knit. Steven’s sweater be damned, your beaming smile is more than enough to render them both speechless.

“How do I look?”

The sweater isn’t his, but it stirs the same syrupy feelings in Marc anyway. You’ve spoken about it before—and him privately with Steven—where Steven stands in your relationship with Marc. All he’s ever let himself hope for was for you and Steven to be cordial, maybe even friends. Of course, he’d have to actually let you guys speak to each other for any of that to be possible, but you two seem to have grown comfortable with each other regardless.

Now, he sees you in Steven’s clothes and his thoughts run rampant. Ours. He tests out the word and his heart skips a beat. It’s always been a possibility; one you all were open to if it ever happened. But he could never ask either of you to try to love each other on his behalf.

God, that word does something stupid to his brain—Steven’s rattling off compliments and other things of his you should try on and invites to go thrifting—and Marc just sits there, dumbfounded by his own hypothetical scenario. “Come on, Marc, say something!”

You move to stand in front of him, and his thighs part automatically to have you close. It takes your hand on his cheek, gentle as you stroke your thumb over his skin, to pull him back to reality. “You okay?”

“You look incredible.” His voice dips in the way he knowsmakes your stomach swoop, and is promptly rewarded with your flustered smile. The moment doesn’t last—not with Steven cooing in his ear over you.

A pang of possessiveness runs through Marc. That smile was for him, thank you very much.

His mouth works faster than his brain. “Steven has something to tell you.”

You light up. “Really?”

“Wants to tell you himself, actually.”

Steven splutters, nerves coming on in full force. Marc bites his tongue to keep a straight face. “Well, now, hang on a minute—”

Steven’s introduction was always going to be a well-thought-out but casual event, as to not make a circus out of it. It was just who they were, after all. They wouldn’t switch in front of you—Steven would change into his wardrobe and ‘do’ his hair beforehand; Marc worried it might be too much for you to see him but hear Steven. He would’ve prepped you both plenty in the preceding days, regardless of how necessary it was.

It definitely would not be the stunt he’s pulling right now.

Your eyes narrow at the placid look on his face, too casual to not be suspicious, but meeting Steven must outweigh the want to catch Marc in the act of whatever he’s planning because you don’t call him out, hands frozen on his face. It’s cute, watching you struggle between overt enthusiasm and not wanting to pressure them into anything.

Marc would even enjoy it a little longer if it weren’t for the confused and alarmed word vomit spilling out in his head.

“Stop messing about—I mean, it’s not—not odd, yeah? For me to front a little? Just a little chat, can’t be all that bad. Please be messing with me, but I can do it, s’not a big deal. Yeah, yeah, it’s whatever—oh, boy."

Taking pity on the poor guy, Marc quiets him with a steady glance into the mirror. “You sure, buddy?”

Slightly shrill but no less serious, “Are you sure, Marc?”

And then Marc’s fun little charade teeters on its head—is he ready for this? You and Steven wouldn’t hold it against him if he pulled the plug on it all right now, but this is the closest he’s ever gotten. The band-aid has to come off, lest he lets this fester for the length of another relationship.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his flare of panic comforted by the patience in your eyes. More confidently this time, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Steven’s smile is clear in his voice. It mirrors your own.

“About time, innit?”

Moving into their flat isn’t a decision you make all at once, but rather a slow, steady conclusion that you’ve been unintentionally working towards ever since you first visited.

The clothes were just the start. It’s not like you didn’t have perfectly good clothes before you met Marc, but his were just better somehow. Soft and simple, all in that neutral colour scheme he seemed to gravitate towards. The warm, woodsy scent of his aftershave clings to the fabric, making you want to bury your nose into the garments and go right back to the source—

You just couldn’t help yourself from borrowing something whenever you came over.

(That pleased, half-lidded gaze you receive each time you slip on his shirt, or his heated touch whenever he drapes his jacket over your shoulders during chilly morning afters—well. Those are just a bonus.)

So, maybe you left a shirt or two behind in the process. And maybe you realized that you should probably have a pair of sweatpants there as well, and a good book to read during quiet nights in. Once, you forgot your toothbrush only for Marc to pull out an extra from their medicine cabinet; now you have a toothbrush in their bathroom.

After you finally met Steven and his adorable, eclectic self—all bets were off. You bond while scouring vintage shops and finding new pieces for the flat. A little basket of throw blankets gets added to the living room (always neatly sorted by Marc, without fail). Candles—tall and stout, festive and fruity and spiced—start to litter the shelves. A particularly good haul at a used bookstore, a bit heavy for you to carry home, is instead slotted amongst their collection; the contemporary fonts and colourful covers are a stark contrast against the yellowing older texts, and you love it.

Your fingerprints are all over the place by the time Marc officially empties some space in his dresser for you, uncharacteristically avoiding your eyes as he speaks, “Just in case you wanted to keep some more stuff here.”

You were already using their closets before then (in both the storing-your-clothes sense and the stealing-their-clothes sense); you’ve practically taken over one of his drawers. But to give you one outright, to admit that he’s carved out some space just for you instead of silently accommodating your things as he always has—

“Thank you, Marc,” you whisper, brimming with emotion that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to fully express. He’ll flit about and clean and care for you because words will never capture the depth of his feelings. You see this for what it is, like all the gestures that have come before: a declaration.

“Thank you,” you repeat, and press a soft kiss onto the corner of his mouth. “I love you, too.”

It’s not much long after when Steven comes home from work grinning like a madman, one hand held behind his back. He beelines towards you, not even bothering to put his bag down.

“Hey, you.” You peck his lips and feel his smile stretch impossibly wider. “What’s got you all riled up?”

The words come out in a rush. “Havesomethingforyou.”

“Oh?”

“Close your eyes.” You can’t help but laugh a little as you follow the direction; Steven’s excitement is utterly infectious. “Okay, now hold out your hand.”

“If you give me a bug, I swear to God—”

“I would never.” His seriousness is a bit too heavy-handed, and you get a feeling you’re going to need to be on guard for a while.

You’re distracted, however, by the brush of his skin as he places something small and rigid into your palm. The metal is warm from being clasped inside his hand, but the shape is so familiar that you recognize what it is immediately.

“You can open—”

You’re already looking down—at the silver key to the flat nestled in your hand. Lonesome without the Koala plushie on Steven’s keyring, without the little charm you got for Marc’s—no, it’s meant to be your copy.

“We were thinking, right,” he starts before your heart has the opportunity to beat right out your chest, “Marc and I—well, you’re here with us most of the time. You should have your own key. Beats having to come grab mine from the museum, right?”

You let out a choked little laugh, too caught up to remind him that the only reason why you went to the museum was because else he would’ve dropped everything to deliver the keys himself. Spent his entire break and then some to commute back home so that you wouldn’t have to wait for his shift to be over, even though you could’ve amused yourself just fine outside until then.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to get out before stepping forward, burying your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso. Steven’s love is unbridled; he holds you close, going on about how glad he is—how glad they both are—to have you, how he was practically bouncing off the walls at the locksmith, waiting for the key to be cut.

They’ve been your home for so long now that while the new addition onto your keyring makes you giddy and smile stupidly whenever you get to use it, it also just feels right. You go grocery shopping with Marc and watch him scrutinize apples like they personally offended him. Steven tangles your legs together as you wind down in the evenings, and always always smiles whenever he catches you looking at him. You rank the restaurants around the neighbourhood and line your favourite mugs beside each other on the shelf; you sit in the comforting quiet of the flat and wonder how you got so lucky.

When it’s eventually time to renew your lease, there’s no decision to be made. You’re relieved from dinner prep to write the email to your landlord on their couch. It’s sent off with no fanfare and quickly forgotten about when Marc’s voice rings out, asking what you want to eat.

“Anything,” you say, the ghost of a smile on your lips; he hates it when you say that. Marc grumbles a little, but you mean it this time. You have them and they have you. Curled up in one of Steven’s sweaters, Marc’s playlist on low in the background—anything is just fine by you.

You are the bane of Jake’s existence.

First, you meet Marc. Terrible. Khonshu is riding his ass about a mission in Liverpool—they’ve now been geolocked to stay under the radar—and Marc plans a date. An actual, Godforsaken date with a set time, throwing a wrench into their plans because Steven’s been scheduled to work on the surrounding days as well. How is he supposed to sneak off to the other side of the country now?

Even worse, you stick around. There are more dates between the two of you. For how much he hates texting, Marc responds promptly whenever you send him something. He frets over what to wear before picking you up. You stay over at the flat and he holds you in his sleep like he’s afraid you’ll disappear; Jake has been unluckily enough to wake up in the middle of the night, planning to slip away, only to be hit with the scent of your shampoo in his nose.

Then—and then—Marc has the bright idea to introduce you to Steven. The hope that this is just a casual, temporary thing is dashed away the second Jake sees that lovesick expression on the idiota. It’s more overt than Marc’s, but still the same blaring warning sign that Jake’s life is only about to get harder from here.

Keeping a low profile has become incredibly difficult since the others decided to be normal. Marc never questioned whenever Jake took over in a tight spot, too hyped up on adrenaline and too stubborn about their condition to follow up on his blackouts after the fight was done. Steven was clueless about everything for those first few months, then just blamed his blackouts on Marc.

But now? They talk to each other. They have a year-long calendar on the fridge with a magnetic pen holder to keep track of their schedules, colour-coded blue (for Marc) and green (for Steven). They’ve gotten distracted and added another consciousness for Jake to deceive in order to do his thing. He can’t take the body for more than a few hours, and certainly not by force, without drawing suspicion.

Jake’s happy for them. Really, he is. They’ve finally begun to move on from the trauma of their childhood into something that resembles a normal life. Steven’s gotten rehired at the museum as a tour guide. Marc’s taken up security consulting. And despite their respective anxiousness and ten-foot-walls, you bring them peace.

But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s Khonshu’s avatar now. That a lifetime ago, when the work began to wear down on Marc in all the worst ways, Jake was the one who cut a deal with the god for his release. All he had to do was take his place.

(Foresight might not be his strong suit, but he refuses to take responsibility for what happened next. He could never have imagined all the puppetry that’d occur with Layla in the mix, or that they’d actually divorce one of these days and end up with someone new.

Except this time, you know about their system and not about Khonshu. He wonders how well you’d take that whole mess.)

In short—Marc and Steven still need him. He can’t just up and disappear into the recesses of their mind; he has a job to do.

So, when Steven presses that fucking key into your hand, Jake’s so frustrated he could scream. Unfettered access to the flat—as if you weren’t there enough already. As if he weren’t already jumping through every hoop imaginable, just to keep his existence a secret. He would’ve made them drop the copy down the nearest gutter on the way home if he didn’t know that they would simply go right back to the locksmith and ask for another.

Steven watches as you slip it onto your keychain; that all-encompassing, vibrant burst of joy in their chest be damned—you are the worst thing to ever happen to Jake, even if you might be the best thing to ever happen to them.

Steven had the flat, Marc had his storage unit, and Jake?

Jake has his car.

Multiple, actually, but the limousine is the legal one (thanks for your identity, Marc) and serves as his homebase. Supplies are stashed in compartments around the cabin—weapons, clothes, cash—and with its heavily tinted windows, he can do anything he wants inside and passersby would be none the wiser. When Khonshu’s booming voice echoes around his brain about some new target, at least Jake can recline into a soft leather seat.

The only issue is that he can’t keep everything there. No, the parking garage is a fair distance away from the flat and sometimes, he doesn’t have the opportunity to make the trip before setting off. This means that he has to keep a change of clothes in the flat to avoid accidentally ruining some of Steven’s or Marc’s. He’d never actually wear anything of Steven’s to begin with (at least, not on a mission), but Marc’s wardrobe is minimal by choice—if something went missing or got a new, unexplained hole in it, he’d notice.

That’s why Jake is currently slinking through their living room, ready to change back into Steven’s pajamas before hiding his clothes on the loft above their bed. Nothing up there but empty bins and poster tubes. Marc regularly dusts the area during his monthly deep cleans, so Jake doesn’t even have to worry about leaving behind any tracks.

It was an easy job tonight, done in little less than an hour and not a speck on Jake to show for it. He could take a shower if he wanted—you’re staying over at a friend’s place right now, as noted in red on the calendar. But he shouldn’t keep the body for longer than necessary; they still need sleep, after all.

He slips off his flat cap, groaning as he runs a hand through his hair. God, they’re getting old. Even this stolen hour will be felt by whoever wakes up in the morning, slightly slower and groggier than usual.

(Jake doesn’t think about the future—has never needed to. The only future that exists to him is the next minute, and the minute after that, and what he has to do to ensure the body makes it there. Him and Marc were similar in that aspect for a long, long time.

That calendar on the fridge, while helpful to his vigilantism, stirs something uncomfortable in his gut. He’s seen them flip through the months to mark down birthdays and reservations. Vacations, work events—Marc’s going on a completely normal, non-violent work trip, which Jake still can’t quite wrap his head around—and it’s all so far ahead.

How can they be so sure that nothing will change between now and then? That their life won’t blow up again, and force them on the run? Everything they add is just another handful of salt to be pressed into the wound when it all goes to hell. But they still write things on that stupid calendar. Confident, excited even, about the plans they think will come to pass.

How do they know?)

There’s a rustling in the bedroom.

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—

“Marc?”

You shift a little under the covers, trying to peer at him through the darkness. Jake’s never been more grateful for Marc’s sensible taste in fashion; with only a silhouette to go by, of course you’d mistake him for Marc—straight-cut jeans, a collared jacket. His flat cap would tip you off though, and he presses it into his chest to hide it from your line of sight. Marc would never wear a flat cap.

He forces a casual tone. “Hm?”

A small sigh of relief escapes you as your head falls back onto the pillow. Still watching him, though, you mumble, “Bad dream?”

You know about Marc’s time in the military and as a mercenary. Not everything, obviously, but enough. Jake nods, and can imagine the worried purse of your lips in the shadows. In the best impression he can manage, his accent turns Chicagoan. “Just had to take a walk.”

If he were really Marc, he’d already be in bed by now, letting you brush curls away from his face and press a kiss against the furrow of his brow. If he were really Marc, he’d ask you why you were back here instead of with your friends as expected, and you’d talk things out until dozing off in a tangle of limbs, comforted by each other’s presence.

But Jake’s not Marc. He brushes off the subtle tightening of his chest as just a lingering remnant from his alters. The body knows you, even if Jake doesn’t. It doesn’t mean anything to him.

You whine, a sleepy and pitiful but inviting noise from the back of your throat as he continues to stand in the living room. Alarm bells go off in his head; he has to placate you before you get up and try to drag him over yourself.

“Just need to change,” he says, soft and low, warmth injected into every word. Nausea courses through him, to his own confusion, as he continues to play Marc. This should be easier—he’s been hiding for as long as he can remember. This is probably the tamest thing he’s done to keep his cover. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

He takes two steps towards the kitchen then stops, feigning—feigning something, fuck if he knows—waiting for your breathing to level out again. Silence falls over the flat, but Jake’s mouth runs dry.

There’s no way you don’t bring this up to them in the morning, and there’s no way they won’t immediately suspect another alter. They know he exists, have seen the aftermath of when he fronts. It’s only his secrecy that has kept them off his back for this long, and it will all come crashing down in a few hours.

For better or for worse, he’ll have to meet the others soon.

Marc will never tire of waking up beside you. Even though there’s a heaviness weighing him down, body aching for just a few more minutes, he pushes through because you’re already awake. With one hand on his chest, the other tracing over his jaw—the small, lazy smile on your face has already made his day.

You turned over while he was asleep, but his arm is still slung over your waist; he pulls you closer to press a kiss onto your forehead. Lips moving against your skin, “Morning, baby.”

“Morning,” you murmur. “Feel better?”

Mind hazy from sleep, Marc doesn’t question the odd wording. He just let’s himself settle into the lingering fatigue, leaning into your touch as his eyes flutter shut again. “M’tired. Stay with me a little longer?”

Concern laces your tone. “Was the dream that bad?”

That breaks through to him. He peers at you curiously, more alert than before. “What do you mean?”

You blink, confused. “Your nightmare last night. You left to take a walk?”

Marc sits up, furrowing his brow. Reality seeps in, and he checks the date on his phone. Aren’t you supposed to be—? “I thought you were staying over at a friend’s place.”

“I was going to, but she had a family emergency—I came back here around three. Don’t worry, they walked me home,” you explain with a soft pat of your hand at the end. That—that is one mystery solved, and he is glad to hear that you weren’t walking alone at night, but his shoulders remain taut with tension. His mind gets caught on a detail.

“Three?” He’s a light sleeper, he would’ve woken up when you came into bed. But—your words replay in his mind. He wasn’t here when that happened, was he? “I went on a walk?”

His stress begins to spill over to you, and you prop yourself up on an elbow, fiddling at the blankets. “Um, yeah. We spoke a little when you came back—I was already in bed, remember?”

A pit opens up in his stomach, and the words die in this throat. Marc does not, in fact, remember. He apparently went outside in the middle of the night, long enough for you to come home and settle in without him, then had a whole conversation upon return—and none of it is familiar to him. Not even a hint of déjà vu.

He throws off the covers, on his feet in seconds despite your protests. All hisblackouts, the ones he thought were finished after traversing the Duat—

That third sarcophagus—

Is this what it was like for Steven? To wake up, not knowing what your body has done, where it’s been—if it’s hurt someone?

Marc might actually puke if he thinks about it for too long. And God, you live with them now: him, Steven, and what Marc wishes was a complete unknown. But the truth is—they aren’t an unknown. No, Marc is fully aware of what this alter is capable of.

“Oh, bugger, what’s going on?” Steven must feel his panic, reflects it in kind. He must be expecting bloodshed with how fast their heart is racing.

Marc says nothing and flings open the tri-mirror on the wall, bracing himself with both hands on the sink below. He sees himself in the center, a bull primed to fight. Steven’s to the left, so fearful he’s nearly frozen still. And to the right—

To the right—

So. Jake hasn’t really prepared for this situation, to be honest.

He’ll face anything head-on to keep the body safe, but imagining himself as the threat? Never crossed his mind. There’s anger in their blood, and Marc’s liable to cracking the porcelain with his grip. If looks could kill, Jake would be dead ten times over.

The few times he wondered what it would be like to actually meet Marc and Steven, the worst that could happen was that they disliked him. Unfortunate, but he’d live. He didn’t need their approval to do his job.

But through the blood rushing in their ears, he can hear you; still in bed, barely breathing as you watch everything unfold. And that’s when he remembers—

You are the bane of his existence.

Because Marc and Steven aren’t just thinking about their own self-preservation. No, now they have you to protect, and the lengths that they would go to do that, well—Jake begrudgingly has to admit that they might rival some of his own efforts for them.

He’d let them stare at themselves forever in the mirror if it weren’t for that fact. They would never give up on trying to talk to him. Steven was clever enough with the sand and tape and ankle restraint; he doesn’t want to think about what sort of traps they’d create with Marc in the mix. Jake would probably still evade them all, but they’d drive themselves crazy in their attempts.

They’ve really left him no choice. For the first time, he lets himself be seen.

You’ve watched Marc and Steven talk to each other plenty of times. It’s really no big deal. They’re just normal conversations where you can only hear one side, and usually taken through the nearest reflective surface.

But this? This is an interrogation. Marc slackens his jaw for just a moment before everything in him tenses again. He speaks through clenched teeth, as if barely controlling the severity of his thoughts—you can’t help but brace yourself for impact. “Who are you?”

The pause as he waits for the other alter, whoever they are, to respond is maddening. It wasn’t quite fear that gripped you when you realized that it wasn’t Marc last night—to be honest, you don’t know what to feel—but the scene in front of you has you reevaluating your initial reaction.

That initial reaction being, well—the same thing you felt when you Marc told you about Steven: curiosity. You wanted to meet Steven. Almost begged for the chance near the end. Whoever this is—

“Jake.”

The name grates itself out of Marc’s throat, and you cling to the information like a life raft.

“Jake.” You can’t help but test it out on your tongue, squinting a little as you look at your boyfriend and try to see yourself calling him that. Marc looks towards you. There’s a storm of emotions in his eyes, but there’s no time to decipher any of them—a moment later, he turns back towards the mirror with a scowl.

“Why should I believe you?” The lines on his face deepen; Marc grits his teeth so hard you yearn to hold him, but you’re frozen to the spot.

“I don’t know that. After you—” his eyes dart between you and his reflection so fast, you might’ve imagined it “—after what you’ve done?”

A wave of dread washes over you.

He’s not talking about last night.

No, Marc—Marc has interacted with Jake before, and whatever happened must’ve crossed a line. Must’ve crossed several lines because of how he’s acting right now, and you want to bury yourself under the covers, still fisted tightly in your hands.

He laughs bitterly. The sound rakes through your ears. “You call that protecting us?”

Your blood runs cold. With no real context and spiked with adrenaline, your mind runs rampant with the possibilities, connects all the worst dots.

There’s no way—

“Lay a hand on her and I swear—”

You want to run and you want to hide and you want their arms around you, assuring you of—of anything. You need to leave this building and also never go outside again, because your head begins to pound with each thought that passes through.

You can still see the worry flare in Marc’s eyes when you accidentally grabbed the handle of a hot pan, the dutiful and tender way he held your hand under the tap for no less than fifteen minutes—

You can still hear Steven’s babbling when your new shoes rubbed your ankles red and raw while on a walk, distracting you from the pain the best he could until you got back home—

You are just so acutely aware of their love—that Marc and Steven would never dare hurt you. It’s impossible to reconcile your memories of them with the picture that’s being painted of Jake right now.

No. You can’t believe it.

You’re not even hearing their conversation anymore, your heartbeat is too loud. Breathing returns to you in a rush—you never even realized you stopped—and your vision swims with light-headedness.

None of it makes sense.

It—it can’t—

The mattress dips beside you, but you barely feel it. Someone’s cupping your cheeks, grounding you back into the flat, your home, and you know these hands. You know this voice, soothing in your ear, even as you shut your eyes.

They say that they’re sorry. They say that you’ll be okay.

They call you princesa.

It feels strange walking around the flat, knowing that he’s welcome there now.

Jake’s seen every nook and cranny through Marc and Steven, but to actually be able to explore the place himself—he’s like a kid in a toy store. He can’t help but run his fingers over everything. The spines on the bookshelves, the mismatched dishware in the cabinets. That velvet throw pillow, which you are so fond of playing with during movies—yeah, he gets it.

He’s not going to be talking to you for a while, though. After his rocky first meeting with Marc and Steven, which also coincides with the absolute worst possible first meeting with you—

It’s best to steer clear for a while.

Jake let the other two do the explaining. He watched silently as Marc told you about his past—told you about why he was discharged from the Marines and the scenes he’d wake up to after Jake had fronted—hands shaking as they held onto yours. He watched as Steven took over when it got to be too much, adding in the finer details and clarifications, steadier but no less genuine than Marc. Their arms were gentle as Steven held you in their lap, patient as you stumbled through how you felt.

“Marc seemed so mad at Jake.” You clutched at Steven’s shirt, sniffling into his neck. “I didn’t know what was happening, I—I was scared.”

No. Jake furiously shakes his head as if it would jostle the memory out of his brain. Just thinking about it threatens to unravel him, and he has to keep it together. He’s on thin ice as is.

You had been the one to temper their emotions—the sight of you panicking on their bed grinding all other issues to a halt. The conversation couldn’t continue until you were okay, and this time, Steven kept you in the loop.

Steven is wary. Steven needles him about what he’s been doing all this time, asks him what he’s going to do now with short little mhms. Steven is also the one to buy a new set of pens (because black is already used for non-individual specific events) and designates him as orange.

Marc doesn’t trust Jake at all and admits it outright. It’s—it stings more than he thought it would, but he understands. He always knew that Marc would take a while to come around, especially with you to consider—

Jake doesn’t know why he worries so much about your opinion. Protecting you is an extension of protecting the body, but he never used to care about what Marc or Steven had to say. He hates the caution in your voice when you talk about him and can’t help but appreciate you trying anyways.

He pinches himself. You’re not his to think about, period.

Acknowledging his existence also, sort of, comes with accepting it. Steven somehow finds the space for another dresser in their already cramped bedroom. Jake doesn’t even have enough possessions in general to fill that thing—not counting all the weapons and ammo that Marc would definitely have their head for if he brought them into the flat.

It’s an olive branch on both sides, though. They’re committing to having him around. He’s committing to being around, instead of lurking in the background of their lives.

His clothes only fill up the first drawer but—it’s nice. Jake stares at the thing a lot more than a used, scratched-up piece of furniture probably warrants. He can barely admit it to himself but this, all of it—going outside during the day, eating a freshly-cooked meal, even just relaxing in bed without immediately trying to go to sleep in order to Protect the Body—it really is just nice.

(Since when did he describe anything as nice?)

Then—your keys turn in the door.

Jake hits the eject button so fast, Steven’s probably going to get whiplash.

“Nice reflexes,” he grumbles as you enter the flat. It was funny the first few dozen times. Now? That twat’s just being a coward.

“I’m home!” You call out as Steven rounds the corner to greet you, tote bag nearly bulging in your hand. He pecks your lips as he helps you out of your jacket, then hangs it up beside the three others on the rack. “There was a little creators’ market in the park—you should’ve seen it!”

“Think I’m seeing it now,” he chuckles, moving to help you with your tote. You slink past him at the last second, grinning. “Come on, love, show us what you got!”

“They’re gifts! Just hang on.” You place the bag on the dining table and enraptured, he pulls up a stool. His head rests on his chin as he waits for you to unpack. “Okay, first, for Marc—”

You reach your hand inside and reveal a pair of black leather gloves. Not driving gloves like Jake’s—there’re far less embellishments all around. But they’re warm and flexible, perfect for colder weather. Inside, the lining is made with a material so soft that when trying one on, Steven can’t help but laugh a little in disbelief.

“Treading on my territory, pendejo?”

Marc snipes back, “Like you own a monopoly on leather gloves.”

Steven lets Marc pull to the front. An easy smile spreads on his face as he flexes his hand, testing his movement. “Thanks, baby. I really like them.”

He takes your chin into his gloved hand to thank you properly, slotting his lips against yours with no shortage of appreciation. His grip is an anchor, holding you in place as he kisses you, deep and languid. Like you have all the time in the world despite the heat flickering across his skin. When Marc gets like this, it’s not long before you start squirming under him, and your hands paw at his neck for something more.

That’s his cue to finally pull away, smirking as he traces your bottom lip with his thumb. Whether it’s the leather or him or both, he can see the effect on you, the dazed look you give him when you bat your eyes open.

Let Jake try and beat that.

“Oi! Share!”

Marc sighs. Drops his forehead to yours and reluctantly doesn’t continue any further. “Steven wants his gift now.”

“Oh,” you laugh a little, realizing the situation you’ve put yourself in. “Maybe I should’ve done Steven’s first.”

Marc steals one more kiss before retreating again, and Steven is back, clearly eager for many different reasons now. After putting Marc’s new gloves to the side, you don’t make him wait a second longer; you pull out a stunning new button-up, deep navy with a pattern of large teal palm leaves and hints of salmon accents all over.

All traces of joy disappear from Marc’s voice. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“She’s an enabler. I can’t believe it.”

Steven gapes, amazed. “How did you—”

“I had to go digging,” you admit, gesturing widely. “There were so many racks, we need to go back! I only had my one bag!”

“There’s no way people actually buy this stuff.”

“Ahh, well, it’s not that bad—"

“Are you kidding me?”

Ignoring the fashion police in his head, Steven immediately switches shirts and tosses the old one somewhere behind him. Based on Marc’s grunt, he missed the couch, but also can hardly find himself to care.

He doesn’t even bother doing up the buttons, because he knows where you’ll put your hands when he descends upon your face. Kiss after kiss on your cheeks, forehead, and nose, and soon enough you’re giggling loudly into the air. Your hands are warm against his bare torso, pulling him closer even as their stubble tickles your skin.

“Stevie—Steven! There’s one more!”

He’s not letting you off that easily, though, and finally captures your lips with his. That does buy him a few more blissful seconds until you manage to push him away; breathing heavily, you point sternly in his direction—behave.

Steven schools his expression into one of perfect obedience, teasing, but you barely even react. With one glance back down at the table, it’s like the tote bag sucked away your excitement, leaving shy uncertainty in its wake. You’re biting your lip as you reach for the last gift, quiet.

Marc hums, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Steven offers you an encouraging little smile and is about to say something when you produce the last gift in a rush, still not meeting their eyes.

It’s a simple wool scarf, colour-blocked in soft browns and greys. He waits as you fiddle with it in your hands, trying to find the words.

“He doesn’t have a scarf,” you blurt out. When Steven doesn’t respond immediately, you continue. “Jake, I mean—I don’t think he has one. I thought it would be nice.”

He follows your gaze to the coat rack near the door, filled with four sets of outerwear. It clearly doesn’t fit all the jackets owned in the household, but his favourite is hung up next to Marc’s, which is hung up beside your overcoat and Jake’s collared jacket. Various cold weather accessories are layered onto the hooks as well, multiple pairs of gloves, hats—but there are only three scarves.

Come to think of it, Steven hasn’t seen Jake ever wear a scarf either. “You’re right, love. Doesn’t his neck get cold? I know our neck gets cold.”

The corners of your mouth tug up a little and he grins, triumphant. He tunes into his head, making sure he doesn’t miss any of Jake’s reaction, but nothing comes. That’s odd. It doesn’t feel like he’s gone, more like—holding his breath.

“Think he’ll like it?” You tilt your head, though your true question is clear on your face.

The words can’t come out of Jake fast enough. “I’m not here right now.”

“Jesus, man.”

Steven huffs but covers for his alter; they’ll press him about it another time. “Once he sees it, I don’t think he’ll ever take it off.”

The gloves and scarf are added to the coat rack, which is liable to falling over one of these days due to the heavy load it’s carrying. With no shortage of complaining from Marc, Steven picks up his discarded shirt and tosses it into the laundry basket. It’s almost full—he makes a note to do a load later this week.

He must look ridiculous, parading around in an undone button-up, but you have nothing but fondness for him when he returns to cuddle with you on the couch. You’ve changed into Marc’s sweater and have to move no less than five decorative pillows in order to make enough space.

Marc makes a distressed noise when Steven throws one of them to the side. “It’s fine—”

It hits the standing lamp and you both freeze as you watch it teeter on its base, creaking ominously. After a moment, it steadies again.

“It’s only fine because of your weak throw.”

Steven splutters as he pulls you into his side. “We have the same arm!”

They bicker about the mechanics of their body, whether muscle memory crosses over when they switch or not. Marc is squarely of the opinion: No. Steven reminds him of when he punched the Jackal, and the conversation continues to devolve. Jake refrains from getting involved but spurs them on regardless with a well-placed snicker here and there.

It’s an aimless argument that has you burying your face in your hands because you’re laughing too hard; one of many that have taken place and one of many that have yet to occur.

In the morning, Marc will cook you breakfast and throw an eggshell into the bin from across the kitchen just to prove a point. Steven will go back to the market with you to buy armfuls of his favourite clothing and home goods, and he’ll add one more to his bag for every snide comment Marc makes. And Jake—

Jake will take a little while longer until he feels ready to speak to you, but you see the scarf gather raindrops and the warm, woodsy smell of their aftershave as he wears it every time he goes outside. Always see it hung up neatly on the rack, on top of his jacket so it can properly dry.

And with all four of you settled in, their cluttered little flat in London—long overflowing with books and clothes, your favourite comforts and some truly unique furniture—finally started to feel complete.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #my writing #mk bingo 2024

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