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cloudtransprncy · 3 months

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"One Night Only"

Word count: 11210 Jennie x Male reader

Consequence – That word reverberates through my mind, echoing off the plush walls of this hotel suite. Each decision, every whisper of action, carries its own shadow, trailing behind it. I know this, deep in my bones. Yet, life, in its fleeting dance, seems to mock the very notion of permanence. The only certainty we hold is the silent, inexorable march towards an end we'd rather not face. We push it aside, cloak it in disbelief. Life, in its relentless stride, continues until reality, unbidden, jolts us awake. So, we find refuge in the fleeting – in the amber embrace of liquor, the smoky tendrils of a cigarette, the heady rush of desire. For a night, just this night, we silence the whispers of tomorrow.

Jennie's breath, a ragged symphony, plays against my lips. Our kiss, a dance of longing, tastes of sweet cherries laced our sharp kiss. Her fingers, entwined in my hair, pull us closer, our bodies becoming one in the moon's silver gaze.

Commitment – that once-venerated word now feels like a stranger's tongue. The thought of being tethered, bound by invisible threads of promises stretching across a lifetime, seemed more a prison than a haven. I've always been a creature of flight, a heart unmoored. Maybe that's why she drifted away – a preemptive strike against a future steeped in resentment. In protecting us from the chains of unfulfilled promises, did I sever the only tie that mattered?

Her skin, a canvas of warmth under my fingertips, ignites a trail of desire. As I explore the landscape of her body, each curve, each hidden valley, I lose myself to the moment. Her whisper, a confession in the dark, "I've missed this," binds me tighter than any vow.

Beyond the confines of this room, the city stretches out – a tapestry of steel and dreams under the night sky. Each light, a star in this man-made constellation, speaks of what could be. Once, as a child, I found solace in the stars, in the steady presence of Virgo among the celestial sea. Jennie, like that favored constellation, has always been the light I orbit, the gravity I cannot escape.

In the lunar glow, her face is a serene oasis, her breaths soft sonnets in the stillness. As I trace the lines of her neck, her back arches, a silent plea etched in moonlight. When our gazes lock, in that infinite moment, I see it – the reflection of myself, of us, in the depths of her eyes, a constellation not in the sky but right here, in this room.

She'll come. She always does.

In my mind's eye, I knew she was entwined with someone new, a high-profile actor whose name evades my memory. Insignificant, really, in the grand tapestry of our story. He's but one of many, a star in the vast firmament of an industry pulsing with life. His mark on the world may be noteworthy, but in her universe, he's merely a passing comet, fleeting and ephemeral.

We had drifted apart, yet fragments of our souls lingered, delicately preserved within the vases of our hearts. Months had passed since our last encounter, since our fingers last brushed, our eyes last locked. Though a year had unfolded since our parting, the invisible threads that bound us remained unsevered. When she called, I became all ears; when I reached out, she was always there. Our souls, entwined through seasons of love, could not fully disentangle. She may have sought refuge in another's arms, yet a piece of her essence, like a sacred relic, remained eternally mine, as mine did hers.

The revelation of her presence in New York unfurled as I was poised to board my flight from Chicago to Toronto, the next chapter in my tour's melody. A spare day, a gift of time, whispered the possibility of a detour – a rendezvous in the city that never sleeps.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing my suite in a golden haze, I reached out to her. The skyscrapers below sparkled like jewels under the twilight's caress as I dialed her number. She answered, a silence that spoke volumes, a canvas upon which our history was painted. Our conversations had become a dance, a playful chase of cat and mouse, with words unspoken yet understood.

"I'm in the city for one night," I murmured, the words hanging in the air like a promise, a temptation. Her silence lingered, a delicate pause on the other end, filled with the muted symphony of her world – the distant chatter of her entourage, the soft clicks of cameras capturing fleeting moments.

"I got a room for me and you," I continued, my voice a blend of hope and certainty. "This is for one night only." The details spilled out, coordinates to our secret haven, as the line hummed with the electricity of anticipation before falling silent. But my heart knew – she would be there, drawn to me as I to her, in this city of dreams and shadows.

A knock fractured the stillness of the midnight hour, a subtle intrusion into the suite where I stood, lost in thought. Above, the sky had donned its nightly regalia, stars scattered like diamonds on black velvet, while the moon – a coy dancer among the celestial array – cast a playful glow upon the city's silhouette. Clouds, thin as gossamer, shifted in the sky, their movements like silk curtains in a soft breeze, alternately veiling and revealing the moon's luminescence. The hour was ethereal, suspended between the remnants of the day and the possibilities of the night.

As I opened the door, she materialized before me – an enigmatic vision at the threshold. She stood there, robed in a chic, form-fitting black dress that gracefully embraced her figure, ending mid-thigh in a delicate declaration of allure. Encircling her legs were knee-high socks, culminating in a daring thigh garter – a subtle yet bold statement of her unique style. Her presence was a striking contrast to the muted opulence of the hotel suite.

Her hair, a cascade of dark, silken strands, framed her face in a perfect balance of elegance and wildness. It fell around her shoulders like the night itself had woven a mantle of shadows to adorn her. The dress clung to her form, outlining her slender arms and the gentle curves of her body, a testament to her poise and the understated power of her presence.

Her makeup was an artful composition, her eyes highlighted with a subtle precision that spoke of distant lands – a hint of an exotic narrative told in the language of beauty. It was understated yet impactful, enhancing her natural features with an artistry that suggested a story deeper than what the eye could see. Her lips, painted in a soft, natural hue, invited a second glance, a lingering focus.

As her gaze met mine, it was electric, a current of shared history and unspoken understanding passing between us. Her eyes, dark and inscrutable, held a depth that was both inviting and impenetrable. The air around her was perfumed with the rich scent of roses, intermingling with the sweet notes of her perfume, creating an aura that was at once intoxicating and comforting.

Her smile unfurled, a familiar softness that painted her features with an intimacy known only to those who had once shared everything. It was a grin that reached back through time, stirring a sea of memories within me.

"Hey," I found myself saying, my words emerging with a hint of a smirk, a reflex born of countless shared moments.

"Hey yourself," she echoed, her voice a melody laced with history. Her fingers, delicate yet assertive, found my chest, pressing gently, urging me backward into the realm we had once known so well. The sensation of her touch was like a key turning in a long-locked door, opening pathways to a past we had carefully navigated.

"It's been a while," her words floated through the air, a statement hanging between us, laden with unspoken narratives.

"Indeed it has," I replied, my voice a soft echo of our shared past. The click of the door sealing us within the suite marked a threshold crossed, a silent herald of a journey into realms both familiar and uncharted.

In that simple exchange, a current of anticipation began to build. The air between us became charged, a palpable tension that spoke of things unsaid, of paths once walked and now revisited. The weight of our history and the uncertainty of our present wove together, creating a tapestry rich with possibility and fraught with the complexity of our intertwined past.

In the soft, muted light of the suite, it didn't take long for our reunion to transform into an entwined embrace on the couch, a fusion of longing and familiarity. The kiss was a deluge of suppressed desires, a fervent torrent that left no room for ambiguity in our intentions. Her body against mine was a juxtaposition of the known and the novel, a comforting familiarity found on unfamiliar terrain. Our tongues, engaged in a private waltz, rediscovered a rhythm that pulsed with both nostalgia and excitement.

My hands roamed her form with an eager curiosity, tracing the familiar yet rediscovered contours of her body. The sensation of her skin under my fingertips was a tapestry of memories and new sensations, each touch reigniting a forgotten connection. The urgency in our movements was palpable, a frantic energy that surged against the sands of time since our last entwining. We were an orchestra of motion and sound, a harmonious blend of sighs and soft moans, a tempest of passion and need. The air around us was thick with the scent of our mingled perfumes, a heady aroma that enveloped us in a cocoon of intimacy.

She dug her fingers into my hair, pulling me closer with a forcefulness that stoked the flames of my arousal. The pressure of her lips on mine intensified, her tongue dancing with increasing urgency. A soft whimper escaped her throat, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine. Our tongues fought for dominance, fueled by the heat of our desires.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Jennie as my hands found their way, cupping the curves of her ass with a gentle firmness. The motion drew her closer still, eliminating any space that lingered between us. Through the thin fabric of her dress, I could discern the outline of her response, her nipples hardening under my touch. A physical testament to the charged atmosphere that enveloped us. Her body’s reaction, tangible and immediate, sent a wave of anticipation coursing through me.

The texture of her dress under my palms was a subtle contrast to the warmth of her skin, a reminder of the thin veil that still separated us from total surrender. Each breath she took was a melody, harmonizing with the quiet symphony of the night around us.

Jennie's retreat from our kiss left a tangible, connecting strand, a fleeting bridge between us that shimmered in the dim light. Her eyes, dark and enigmatic, bore into me with an intensity that felt as if it could unravel the very fabric of my being. Those eyes were like portals to uncharted depths, brimming with unspoken tales of desire and yearning.

"I've missed this, Owen" she whispered, her voice a soft rumble, resonating with every fiber of my being. She grinds against me, her hips moving back and forth, a tangible expression of her yearning that seeped through the barriers of our clothing. Her fingers, entwined in my hair, drew me back into her orbit, our lips crashing together in a kiss that was as fierce as it was profound. The intensity of our connection, raw and unbridled, engulfed me.

Consumed by her presence, the taste of her lips, the feel of her pressed so close, my hands roamed with a mind of their own. They journeyed beneath the hem of her dress, venturing over the smooth, warm terrain of her skin, each inch revealed a revelation in itself. The sigh that escaped her, a breathless affirmation of the moment, reverberated in me like a symphony.

Our bodies moved in tandem, a harmony of action and reaction, each caress, each undulation building on the next. Slowly, inch by inch I pushed her dress upward, revealing the subtle, sensual landscape of her form. Jennie's breath quickened as her hips rolled, grinding with an increased fervor against me, her nipples stiff and pronounced, brushing against my shirt, an exquisite combination of restraint and liberation. Her arms stretched upwards into the air as I pulled the fabrics of her dress, away from her, lifting its grip from her form, and over her head, which she then tossed casually to one side.

As Jennie's dress slid away, her figure, a stunning tapestry of curves and lines, was unveiled in the lunar glow that seeped through the windows. The moonlight played upon her skin, casting it in an ethereal shimmer, transforming her into a vision of porcelain radiance. She stood there, an embodiment of confidence and sensuality, a modern-day deity framed in a chiaroscuro of shadows and light.

My gaze lingered on her breast, tracing the contours of her physique – the gentle slopes and the pronounced curves that defined her form. Each aspect of her body, from the graceful arc of her waist to the delicate structure of her shoulders, spoke of a silent grace, a beauty that was as natural as it was captivating. Her skin, smooth and luminous, seemed to capture the very essence of the moon's glow, reflecting it back in a soft luminescence that highlighted her every move. My hands, acting with a fervor born from deep within, eagerly explored the expanse of Jennie's skin, a landscape I had once known intimately. The sensation of her beneath my fingertips was exhilarating – a cascade of textures and warmth that set every nerve ending alight. Her skin was soft, yet firm, yielding under my touch with a gentle resilience that beckoned for more exploration.

As I traced the contours of her body, every curve and dip spoke volumes. The softness of her breasts contrasted with the smooth, firmer feel of her abdomen, each sensation a paragraph in the story of her body. The way her skin responded to my touch, with subtle shifts and sighs, was like conversing in a language of sensation, each caress a word, each touch a sentence.

As my hands continued their journey, Jennie's responses turned into a symphony of their own. Her moans, soft yet resonant, were like notes rising from a well-tuned instrument, each one a melody of pleasure and surrender. The sound of her voice, humming in contentment, filled the room with a music that was deeply personal, an intimate concert shared between two souls.

Her moans ebbed and flowed with the rhythm of my touch, crescendos of sound that matched the increasing intensity of our connection. They were not just expressions of pleasure; they were communications, telling me without words how each caress, each gentle stroke was received. Her hums, low and melodic, were the bassline to the higher notes of her moans, creating a harmonious blend that was as compelling as any melody.

After savoring the sensation of Jennie's skin beneath my hands, an innate longing surged within me to delve deeper, to explore her with the intimacy of my lips. I began at her collarbone, a spot often overlooked yet brimming with delicate sensitivity. My lips traced its subtle contours, each kiss eliciting a gentle sigh from Jennie, her skin warm and soft under the tender pressure.

As I journeyed to her shoulders, the texture of her skin subtly shifted, becoming smoother, more resilient. Her responses grew in intensity, her moans a testament to the changing sensations my lips invoked. The scent of roses from her perfume grew stronger here, mingling with her natural fragrance to create an intoxicating aura.

Gliding down her arm, I reveled in the silkiness of her skin, each kiss a discovery of her unique topography. But it was at her armpit where I lingered, captivated by the uniqueness of this hidden enclave. The texture here was more intimate, the skin softer and imbued with a deeper scent that was unmistakably Jennie - raw and personal. Her reaction was more pronounced; her moans louder and filled with a depth that spoke volumes of the pleasure she felt.

As my lips finally reached the crest of Jennie's chest, the change in texture was profound. Her breasts, tender and full of life, responded to each kiss with a symphony of sensation. The delicate softness beneath my lips felt like the most luxurious satin, each touch deepening our connection. The subtle firmness of her nipples, aroused and beckoning, contrasted with the yielding flesh around them.

Gently, I let my tongue dance over the stiffened peak, and Jennie's reaction was immediate. A shiver coursed through her, a physical echo of the pleasure that resonated within. Her breathing became a series of rapid, shallow waves, a delicate soundtrack to our intimate ballet.

Meanwhile, my hand ventured to its twin, mirroring the actions of my mouth. The sensation of rolling and lightly flicking her other nipple elicited from her a chorus of sensual sounds, each moan a note in our crescendoing duet.

When I enveloped her sensitive peak with my mouth, Jennie's moan - "Oh my god" - reverberated through the room. The meticulous circling of my tongue around her was a focused ritual, each motion deliberate and attuned to her responses. The flavor of her skin was a delicate blend of sweetness tinged with the saltiness of her arousal, a tantalizing taste that drew me deeper into the moment. Her chest pushed forward, eager to meet the onslaught of stimulation with an intuitive abandon.

"I forgot how good you feel," I murmured, my voice tinged with a deep arousal, the words escaping almost involuntarily.

"I want to feel you too," Jennie responded, her voice a breathless mixture of playfulness and desire, sending a jolt of longing straight through me. Her eyes, deep and enigmatic like the midnight sky, held mine with an intensity that spoke volumes. Her hand traced a path up my arm, gliding over the contours of my shoulder, then wrapping around to my back with an electrifying touch that felt like a firebrand on my skin.

With an urgency that mirrored our rising passions, she tugged at my shirt, a silent beckoning for me to shed the last barrier between us. In a swift, seamless motion, Jennie peeled my shirt away, her hands immediately finding the warmth of my bare chest. Her initial feather-light touch quickly intensified, her fingers becoming more assertive, tracing and exploring my skin with a growing fervor that matched the beat of our racing hearts.

As Jennie began to mirror the way I had cherished her body, the intensity of the experience magnified. Her lips traced a path down my neck, each kiss a delicate imprint that seemed to sear into my memory. The sensation of her mouth moving across my skin was both soft and fervent, a contradiction that sent waves of pleasure through me.

Her hands, emboldened by her desire, explored the landscape of my torso. The contrast of her delicate fingertips against the firmness of my muscles created an exhilarating dance of sensations. The pressure of her touch varied, sometimes feather-light, other times more assertive, mapping the contours of my body with an attentiveness that was almost reverent. Each caress seemed to speak volumes, communicating her appreciation and desire in a language beyond words.

As she reached my chest, her exploration became more intense. The sensation of her lips against my skin was like an electric current, each kiss a spark that ignited deeper, more primal feelings within me. Her breath, warm and uneven against my skin, her soft murmurs and occasional sharp expletives, added to the crescendo of sensations, making every moment feel more heightened, more vivid.

In the midst of this exchange, a thought flickered through my mind, unbidden yet insistent. I wondered if her nights with her boyfriend held the same intensity, the same unbridled passion that we were experiencing. Was there the same depth of connection, the same exploration of senses? The thought was a sharp contrast to the immediacy of our encounter, a jarring reminder of the reality beyond this room.

Yet, as quickly as the thought came, it was swept away by the tide of our passion. The here and now was all that mattered - the feeling of her hands on me, the taste of her lips, the sound of her soft exclamations. In this moment, nothing else existed but the intensity of our rekindled connection, a fervor that seemed to eclipse all else.

"Fuck! I need your dick in my mouth," Jennie's voice was thick with desire as she slid off my lap. Her hands, eager and insistent, found their way to the waistband of my sweatpants. With a swift, almost ravenous movement, she tugged them down, freeing my aching arousal. It stood, hard and throbbing, just inches from her face. Her eyes, alight with a fiery blend of lust and hunger, locked onto mine.

"You can have it tonight," I responded, my voice a deep rumble of desire, as her small, delicate hands encircled me. The contrast of her soft touch against my hardness only heightened the moment.

"All of it?" Her question was laced with a seductive confidence, her eyes burning with an intensity that spoke volumes of her desire. I could only nod, caught up in the moment's gravity.

Leaning forward, Jennie's lips parted slightly, and she drooled over a thick glob of saliva that landed precisely on the tip. The warm fluid began to trickle down, glistening in the dim light. She deftly used her fingers to spread it, coating me in a sheen that was both slick and inviting. My entire being was alight with sensation, every nerve ending attuned to her movements as she began to work her hand along my length. Her grip was firm, her movements measured, each stroke a deliberate act of provocation.

Jennie's movements became more intense as she tilted her head, sweeping her hair to one side with a free hand while maintaining her fervent stroke. Her gaze remained locked with mine, a fiery blend of intensity and curiosity as she leaned down. The first sensation was the heat of her breath, a hot, moist whisper against my skin. Then came the slow, deliberate touch of her tongue, tracing a circle around the tip. The electricity of her touch sent a tremor through my body, a visceral reminder of our past intimacy.

As Jennie's lips enveloped the crown, the sensation was both familiar and overwhelming. Her tongue skillfully danced and teased, each movement deliberate and laden with sensation. The warmth and wetness of her mouth enveloped me further, each motion a blissful exploration. Time seemed to stretch and warp, the world outside our bubble ceasing to exist in the wake of her expert ministrations.

Her soft moan, vibrating around me, amplified the sensation, sending shockwaves through my body. I was caught in a spellbinding haze of pleasure, each movement she made bringing me closer to the edge of surrender. The combination of her lips, tongue, and the soft vibrations of her moans created an indescribable tapestry of pleasure, leaving me utterly enraptured.

"Holy Shit!" I couldn't hold back the moan as I found support against the couch's frame, my arms stretched out for stability. The intensity of Jennie's movements sent waves of pleasure through me, causing my head to thrash back in ecstasy. My heart raced uncontrollably, every beat echoing the mounting need within me.

Jennie's hair, a dark cascade, framed her face as she moved with a precision that was nothing short of masterful. The sensation of her lips, sliding rhythmically along my length, was unparalleled. Her ability to take me fully, her breath steady through her nose, spoke of an expertise that was both awe-inspiring and deeply arousing. The way her cheeks hollowed, the hungry suction, the repeated swallowing of my length – it was a dance of intensity and passion.

She occasionally paused, deliberately choking on the tip to gather saliva, which she then used to lubricate my entire length, enhancing the ride with each slick, smooth movement. Every action, every technique of hers was a testament to her skill, her dedication to the act transforming it into something akin to fervent devotion. The pleasure she bestowed was not just physical; it was an experience that transcended the mere act, elevating it to a form of worship.

As I felt the tide of climax beginning to rise within me, I instinctively wanted to prolong this intense experience, to savor more of Jennie's body. Gently, I tried to guide her head away, signaling my intention to pause, but she was resolute. Her determination was clear; she was intent on bringing me to the edge right then and there.

My attempts to ease her off were met with a firm slap of her hand against mine, a silent but emphatic message that she wasn't done yet. "You're giving this to me now, and you're giving me more later," she declared with a commanding tone that brooked no argument. Her eyes, alight with a fierce desire, locked onto mine, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Jennie intensified her movements, her lips and hand working in perfect tandem. The sight of her, so engrossed in the act, her hair framing her focused expression, was utterly captivating. Each movement of her head, each stroke of her hand, was a masterful balance of pressure and rhythm, pushing me closer to the brink.

The sensory overload was overwhelming - the sight of her dedication, the feel of her mouth and hand, and the sounds of our shared pleasure filling the room. Jennie's technique was a perfect symphony of movements, each one bringing a higher crescendo of sensation, making it impossible to think of anything but the imminent and intense climax.

As the moment approached, a feeling akin to a tempestuous sea churned in my stomach, a wave of pleasure building, threatening to crest. Jennie, attuned to my nearing edge, let out a moan that mingled with the surge within me, intensifying the inevitable release. Overwhelmed, I succumbed to the climax, an eruption of sensation, met by Jennie's unwavering embrace. Her lips formed a perfect seal around me, her rhythmic strokes ensuring not a single moment was lost.

Her gaze remained locked with mine throughout, a mirror of pure satisfaction as she swallowed, taking in every part of the experience. In her eyes shone a prideful gleam, a recognition of her own prowess in guiding me to this point of surrender. Her delight was palpable, a silent celebration of the control she wielded, the pleasure she had drawn out.

As the waves subsided, leaving a trail of bliss in their wake, Jennie finally drew back, the connection gently severed, leaving us both in a state of breathless reprieve. She then picked up my shirt from the floor, using it to delicately wipe away the remnants of our encounter from her mouth and hands, her actions as deliberate and composed as they had been in the height of our passion.

Reeling from the intensity of my climax, I found myself being gently but firmly drawn back to the present by Jennie. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was soft yet charged, the taste of myself on her tongue adding a complex layer to our connection. This was more than just physical; it was an exchange of unspoken promises, a dance of intimacy and understanding.

"I'm not done with you. You brought me here, we're gonna make the most of it," she whispered against my lips, her tongue playfully darting out to trace my bottom lip. With a sudden shift, she grasped my hand and led me towards the bed, her movements fluid and purposeful.

As we moved through the suite, the sounds of the city outside filtered through the windows – the distant hum of traffic, the soft murmur of voices, the occasional siren. These were the symphonies of the night, the backdrop to our unfolding story. The room's lighting cast a soft, ambient glow, painting everything in a hue of warmth and intimacy.

As Jennie gracefully made her way onto the bed, her back presented a captivating sight. The arch of her spine flowed into the gentle swell of her hips, each movement accentuating the allure of her lower back and hips. Clad in a small black thong, her hips were teasingly framed, the fabric nestled seductively in the crevice, hinting at the hidden treasures yet to be revealed.

As she reached the center of the bed, Jennie slowly maneuvered herself into a captivating position. Her legs, long and elegantly toned, were raised and folded in a 'W' shape, an enticing display of both vulnerability and invitation. This pose accentuated the length of her legs, the curvature of her hips, and the delicate symmetry of her figure. The knee-high socks she wore added a contrasting element of innocence and playfulness to her otherwise exposed form.

Then, as if compelled by a force beyond her control, Jennie's hands embarked on a tantalizing exploration of her own body. They traced the contours of her breasts with a languorous care, each touch a study in self-adoration. The slow, deliberate movements of her fingers were hypnotic, accentuating her allure in the dimly lit room.

The transformation in Jennie's appearance since our earlier encounter was striking. Her makeup, now smudged and spread, lent her an air of wild abandon, while her hair, disheveled and untamed, framed her face in a chaotic halo. This raw, disordered state only heightened her appeal, lending her a captivating, almost intoxicating aura of realness.

Reclining gracefully, she ran a finger tantalizingly over her lips – lips that still bore the evidence of our previous passion. She continued her seductive journey, her finger tracing a path down her neck, over the gentle swell of her chest.

"come here..." she gestured over for me to join her on the bed, her tone both commanding and inviting. She turned to lay on her back, the sight of her body beckoning me forward.

Still covered by a black thong, her most intimate area was teasingly concealed, yet the way she moved hinted at what was to come. As I stepped closer, drawn in by the magnetic pull of her presence, Jennie reached down with a tantalizing slowness. Her fingers hooked onto the thin fabric of the thong, sliding it off in a motion that was nothing short of seductive. The removal of this final barrier revealed her in full, a breathtaking vision of desire laid bare before me.

In a move that was both deliberate and revealing, Jennie reached down, her hands delicately pulling at the skin on her inner thighs. This gesture was an open invitation, a welcome for my eyes to feast upon her most intimate self. As she gently parted her skin, the hidden beauty of her entrance was unveiled, a sight that was both intensely private and undeniably captivating. Her entrance glistened, its moist perfection a testament to the intensity of her arousal.

As I crawled forward onto the bed, the sensation of the soft, plush sheets against my hands was immediately noticeable. The fabric was smooth and fine, a stark contrast to the fervent energy that filled the room. Each movement I made caused the sheets to shift ever so slightly, creating a subtle but distinct sensation against my skin.

The bed itself was an island in the midst of our passion, its surface both yielding and supportive, a perfect backdrop for the intensity of the moment. As I found my place between Jennie's legs, the bed seemed to embrace us, its softness enveloping us in a cocoon of comfort and intimacy.

Jennie's body was a canvas of desire, painted with the colors of her own passion. Her skin, creamy and fair, glistened with sweat and moisture, reflecting the soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Her hair framed her face in a halo of darkness, accentuating her delicate features. Her breasts, small and plump, rose and fell with each shallow breath she took, their nipples hard and erect beneath the thin sheet that covered her.

As I looked at her from my position between her legs, I couldn't help but marvel at the sight before me. She was naked and vulnerable, yet there was a strength in her that spoke volumes. It was as if she had shed all pretenses of modesty and embraced her true self - a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it.

Jennie's hands moved with purpose across her body, tracing lazy circles around her nipples before dipping down to explore the sensitive flesh between her legs. Her fingers were long and slender, each one ending in a sharp claw that seemed to dig into her skin with every movement. She moved with an intensity that was both mesmerizing and intimidating - a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it.

As I watched her touch herself, my own body began to respond to the sight before me. My heart raced in my chest as I felt my own erection begin to stir beneath my sweatpants. The thought of being with Jennie again - of feeling her body against mine - was enough to send waves of pleasure coursing through me.

I couldn't help but feel drawn to her entrance - that intimate place where she had given herself so completely to me before. As I crawled closer between her legs, I couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for the sight before me. It was as if I were witnessing something sacred - something that belonged only to us two.

Jennie's entrance was like nothing I had ever seen before - a perfect blend of delicate petals and firm muscle. The pink flesh was soft yet firm beneath my fingertips as I traced them over the surface. The scent of wetness mingled with the aroma of sweat and lust as I explored every inch of this intimate place that belonged solely to Jennie.

As I teased her entrance with my fingers, Jennie moaned softly - a sound that sent shivers down my spine as it echoed through the room. Her body tensed beneath me as she reached out for me - drawing me closer until our bodies were pressed together in an intimate embrace that seemed to transcend time itself.

I couldn't help but marvel at the sight before me. Jennie's entrance was like nothing I had ever seen before - a perfect blend of delicate petals and firm muscle. The pink flesh was soft yet firm beneath my fingertips as I traced them over the surface. The scent of wetness mingled with the aroma of sweat and lust as I explored every inch of this intimate place that belonged solely to Jennie. As I teased her entrance with my fingers, Jennie moaned softly - a sound that sent shivers down my spine as it echoed through the room. Her body tensed beneath me as she reached out for me - drawing me closer until our bodies were pressed together in an intimate embrace that seemed to transcend time itself.

I closed my eyes and let out a low moan as I savored the scent of her pussy, allowing it to permeate my senses and fill me with a desire that was both insatiable and exhilarating. My tongue darted out, eager to explore the fleshy depths of her entrance, and I licked the outer folds with a gentle, exploratory motion. The taste was unlike anything I had ever experienced before - sweet and salty, with just a hint of tanginess that spoke of her natural chemistry. It was intoxicating, addictive, and I found myself wanting more and more with each passing moment.

As my fingers delved deeper into her fleshy thighs, I felt a surge of pleasure course through me. The sensation was electrifying, sending shivers down my spine with each lick and suck. Her body pulsed beneath me, her hips undulating in rhythm with my movements, as if we were two dancers in perfect harmony. The sound of her soft moans filled the air, adding to the sensory experience. I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the texture of her flesh beneath my fingertips, and the taste of her juices on my lips. Every sensation was amplified, every detail was vivid, and I found myself completely immersed into her.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe for the view before me - it was as if I were witnessing something holy - something that belonged only to us two. With each flick of my tongue, a symphony of sensations unfolded, like a tapestry of flavors and textures. I navigated the labyrinthine depths of her crevices, discovering hidden chambers and secret alcoves that ignited my senses. The taste of her essence, both sweet and musky, mingled with the salty tang of her sweat, creating a heady elixir that intoxicated me. The warmth of her body radiated through my skin, enveloping me in a cocoon of desire. The taste intensified, the sweetness fading into something richer and more intricate - a taste that spoke of depth and complexity that mirrored our own bond.

As I delved deeper into her entrance with my flicking tongue, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what we were doing together. The world outside faded away, leaving only the raw, unapologetic sensations that coursed through our veins. Our bodies were connected by desire and passion, and we explored each other's with a sense of freedom and abandon. The taste of her essence was intoxicating, and I couldn't get enough of it. The salty tang of her sweat mingled with the sweetness of her body, creating a heady elixir that left me dizzy with pleasure. The warmth of her body radiated through my skin, enveloping me in a cocoon of desire. It was a moment of pure sensory exploration - an exchange of pleasure that transcended words or actions. It didn't matter that she was with someone, all that mattered was what we both wanted - needed..

"Oh my God!" As her slender fingers delved into the silken strands of my hair, a guttural moan escaped her lips, echoing through the dimly lit room like a siren's call. Her touch was a symphony of sensations, each caress sending shivers down my spine. It was as if she was weaving a spell, ensnaring me in a web of desire with every delicate pull and tug. "You're so good at that, Owen" Her teeth sank into the softness of her lower lip, drawing a crimson bead of blood. The skin of her neck tightened, corded muscles standing out like delicate ridges beneath the surface. A low, guttural growl escaped her throat, a primal sound that reverberated through the room.

My tongue, a fervent explorer, ventured beyond the silken folds of her womanhood, tracing the contours of her hidden desires. Each delicate stroke ignited a symphony of sensations, a chorus of whispers reverberating through her core. Her body, a finely tuned instrument, responded with a tremor, a ripple of anticipation coursing through her limbs. She writhed in agony, her limbs trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. Her stomach twisted and churned, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within her core. Her head lolled back, her eyes rolling with ecstasy as her body surrendered to the sensations coursing through her veins.

Her head arched back, a gasp escaping her lips as my tongue ventured forth, seeking the epicenter of her desire. My lips moved in a circular motion, teasing and tormenting her sensitive nub, each revolution igniting a fiery burst of pleasure that rippled through her body. Her legs tightened around my head, her toes curling in ecstasy as her hips bucked involuntarily. One of my fingers slipped down between the silken folds of her entrance, circling and probing, adding an extra layer of stimulation. The combination of my tongue and finger was too much for her, sending her spiraling into the abyss of ecstasy.

The room filled with the symphony of her moans, a primal melody that echoed off the walls. Her body writhed beneath me, her curves undulating like waves crashing against the shore. I could feel her heat and her wetness, taste her desire and her passion. I was lost in the moment, consumed by the sensations that swirled around us like a maelstrom. My finger continued its relentless assault, tracing the contours of her entrance, teasing and probing at its delicate folds. My tongue flicked and danced across her clit, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She was a marionette in my hands, her body contorting and twisting at my every whim. Her fingernails dug into my back, leaving moon-shaped marks on my skin. I basked in the pain, a manifestation of her unyielding passion.

Diving deeper into Jennie's silken depths, I felt her body tremble beneath me, her breath hitching in ragged gasps. My tongue danced across her heated folds, swirling and teasing like a mischievous sprite. Each touch sent shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through her core, her moans escalating into a desperate symphony that filled the room. Her hips arched involuntarily, seeking more of my fervent ministrations.

With one hand buried between her legs, I reached up with the other, exploring the smooth expanse of her toned stomach. My fingers traced the contours of her abs, teasing and tormenting her sensitive navel. She arched her back, her hips bucking wildly as my tongue danced across her clit. I could feel her heat and her wetness, taste her desire and her passion. I was lost in the moment, consumed by the sensations that swirled around us like a maelstrom.

As I continued to lick and suck at her clit, I slipped a finger inside her. It slid in easily, coated in her wetness. I began to pump my finger in and out, matching the rhythm of my tongue on her clit. Jennie's moans grew louder, more frenzied, her body trembling with anticipation. I could feel her muscles clenching around my finger, a sign that she was close.

With my free hand, I reached up to cup her breast, squeezing gently as my tongue continued its relentless assault on her clit. Her nipple hardened in my hand, a dark, erect bud that begged for attention. I pinched it lightly between my fingers, eliciting a sharp gasp from Jennie. Her hips bucked wildly, her body writhing beneath me as I continued to finger and lick her.

I could feel her heat and her wetness increasing, a sign that she was on the brink. With each relentless thrust, I quickened the tempo of my finger, driving it deeper into her slick, welcoming depths. I could feel her body responding, her muscles clenching and unclenching around my eager digit, a symphony of anticipation and surrender. Her breath hitched in her throat, a soft gasp escaping her lips as I continued my relentless assault on her pleasure center. My tongue danced across her clit, teasing and tormenting her sensitive nub. Jennie's moans grew louder, more desperate, a symphony of pleasure that filled the room.

In the hallowed chamber of our love, anticipation hung heavy in the air, pregnant with the promise of ecstasy. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her whispered words barely audible above the fervent rhythm of our bodies. "Owen," she breathed, "I'm so close," and I could feel the trembling of her body, the clenching and unclenching of her muscles.

We were dancing on the precipice, so close to the edge, and I couldn't resist the urge to push her over. My fingers slid deeper into her slick, welcoming depths, the tempo of our love growing faster, more intense with each passing moment. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the taste of lust, and the sweetness of surrender.

As I continued my relentless assault on her pleasure center, I could feel the tension building, the anticipation growing. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the taste of lust, and the sweetness of surrender. My fingers slid deeper into her slick, welcoming depths, the tempo of our love growing faster, more intense with each passing moment. The rhythm of our bodies was in sync, our movements fluid and graceful, as we danced on the precipice of ecstasy.

I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the beat of her heart echoing in my ears. Her whispered words of desire were like music to my ears, fueling my desire to bring her to the edge. I could sense the trembling of her body, the clenching and unclenching of her muscles, as she surrendered to the pleasure.

As I felt her body convulse around me, I knew that I had pushed her to the edge, that I had brought her to the point of no return. The intensity of our lust was overwhelming, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations that left me breathless. I could feel the warmth of her skin against mine, the softness of her hair, the taste of her lips on mine.

Her body, a symphony of rapture, throbbed beneath me, her cries of ecstasy echoing through the room. I had taken her to the precipice, and now she was free-falling into the abyss of pleasure. Her face, a canvas of desire, contorted with delight as she surrendered to the sensations that consumed her. I watched, enraptured, as she arched her back, her body trembling with the intensity of her climax. It was a moment of pure bliss, a communion of souls that transcended the physical realm.

As she finally descended from the tempestuous heights of her orgasm, Jennie lay there panting, her body still trembling like a leaf caught in an autumn gale. The aftershocks of ecstasy rippled through her, her skin flushed and damp with the nectar of our lovemaking. I moved beside her, my heart thrumming in my chest like a war drum, its beat echoing in the silence of the room like a primal chant. As I gazed into her eyes, I felt a raw, primal energy crackling between us, an electric current that coursed through our veins and ignited our souls.

After a moment, Jennie gathered herself, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looked at me with a mix of desire and longing, her eyes locked onto my erection. Without a word, she reached out and spit on it, her saliva glistening on the tip as she began to stroke me. I moaned softly, my body responding to her touch with a fierce intensity.

"Now, for the real thing," Her breath, a warm caress against my ear, whispered promises of forbidden pleasures, unspoken desires. In the hushed tones of a seductress, she confessed, "I've been thinking about this"

My heart raced as she climbed on top of me, her body pressing against mine with a force that was both

exhilarating and terrifying. As Jennie descended upon me, I was captivated by the sight of her pussy swallowing my length whole, her muscles contracting around me with a ferocity that left me breathless. The feeling was ineffable, a surge of ecstasy that coursed through me like a tempestuous storm, electrifying every fiber of my being. Her gaze bore into mine, a mixture of passion and rebellion, as she claimed my cock in her body.

Jennie's body was a sight to behold, her curves accentuated by the soft, ambient light that bathed the room in a moody, atmospheric glow. Her breasts, full and firm, swayed gently with each thrust, their dark, rosy nipples standing erect against the cool air. Her hips moved in a hypnotic rhythm, her muscles flexing with each deliberate motion as she rode me with a fervor that left me breathless.

The view was breathtaking, Jennie's face a picture of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she lost herself in the moment. Her eyes, dark and expressive, were filled with a raw, primal hunger that was both intoxicating and terrifying.

As we moved together, the room was filled with the symphony of our bodies slapping against each other, the wet, slick sounds of our flesh meeting in a frenzied dance of desire, like waves crashing against the shore. The air was thick with the scent of our arousal, a heady mix of sweat and sex that filled my senses and heightened my pleasure, intoxicating me with its primal allure. The rhythm of our lovemaking echoed through the room, a percussive symphony that pounded in my ears and set my heart racing with each thrust.

"Oh fuck, you're so tight," With a guttural moan, I plunged further into Jennie's depths, my body consumed by an insatiable hunger.

"And you're so big, you're stretching me out," Jennie moaned in response, her hips bucking wildly as she rode me with a fierce intensity.

"Do you like that? do you like my cock inside you? you've missed it dont you?" I asked, my voice thick with desire as I looked down at Jennie.

"yes! yes! Yes! Fuck!" Jennie cried out, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she lost herself in the moment.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, and all that mattered was the intense sensory experience that was unfolding before me. Jennie's body was a symphony of pleasure, her every movement a testament to the raw, primal power of desire. And as I lost myself in the rhythm of our bodies, I knew that I was experiencing something truly transcendent, something that would stay with me long after the last echoes of our passion had faded away.

As she began to move, I felt myself being drawn into a world of pure sensation. Every thrust, every movement, was a symphony of pleasure that seemed to resonate deep within my soul. Jennie's eyes never left mine, her expression a mix of desire and determination as she rode me with a fierce intensity. I could feel her muscles clenching around me, a tight, wet heat that seemed to pull me deeper into her body with each passing second.

With a sudden surge of energy, I flipped her onto her back, guiding her legs apart as I positioned myself above her. Our eyes locked in a heated gaze as I plunged deeper into her, my body responding to her cries of desire with a feral intensity.

In this newfound position, I was able to control the depth and pace of our lovemaking, driving myself into her with an insatiable hunger. The headboard creaked against the wall in time with our frantic rhythm, the room filled with the wet sounds of our passionate union. Her hands gripped my back, nails digging into my skin as we moved together as one.

With each thrust, our bodies collided in a symphony of sensations – the slickness of our skin meeting in a primal dance, the soft moans escaping Jennie's lips as she arched her back to meet my every movement. Sweat glistened on both our bodies, beading on our skin like liquid diamonds under the dimmed lights. Her breasts bounced with each impact, nipples hardened and begging for attention. I reached down to tease them roughly, eliciting a gasp from Jennie that spurred me onward.

I could feel every ripple and fold of her wet heat enveloping me, clenching around my length like a vice. The scent of our arousal hung heavy in the air – musky and intoxicating – fueling the fire that burned between us. As I watched our reflection in the mirrored ceiling above us, I marveled at the sight: two bodies entwined in an age-old dance, seeking solace and release in each other's arms.

As I pushed into her further, I raised Jennie's elongated, slender limbs by their ankles, spreading them outward for my access. The visual before me was captivating - her toned thighs glistening with perspiration, her delicate toes curling and uncurling as I kissed and licked upon them. Her thin arms quivered with ecstasy. One hand clung tightly to the bedsheets, the other meandering down to manipulate her breasts, pinching and tugging at the firm nipples that stood upright against the cool atmosphere. Her eyelids were shut, her visage a blend of pleasure and agony as she yielded herself to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her entire body.

Jennie pulled me down to kiss her, her lips soft and warm against mine. Our tongues danced together in a frenzied rhythm, mirroring the movements of our bodies below. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, her breath hot and heavy in my ear as she urged me onward. My thrusts did not stop, my body driven by a primal need to claim her once more.

Her nails raked down my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, fueling the flames of our passion even further. Our bodies collided with an intensity that belied the passage of time, as if we were two souls trapped in an endless loop of desire and need. The room was filled with the sound of our moans and gasps, a symphony of lust that echoed off the walls. The scent of our arousal hung heavy in the air – musky and intoxicating – as we raced towards that elusive peak together.

In this moment, there was only us – two people lost in a sea of passion, seeking solace and release in each other's arms. As I looked into her dark eyes, I saw the same longing and desire that burned within me.

Soon after we switched positions, Jennie was on all fours, presenting her luscious ass to me as I entered her from behind. I couldn't help but admire the view before me – her toned backside, the delicate dip of her spine, and the way her hair cascaded down her back in a waterfall of ebony silk. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, accentuating every curve and contour of her body.

As I positioned myself behind her, I marveled at the sight of my cock sliding into her wet heat once more. The sensation was indescribable – hot, tight, and wet; it felt like coming home. With each thrust, I could feel every ripple and fold of her inner walls clenching around me, as if she were trying to hold onto me forever. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, a primal symphony that echoed off the walls.

In this position, Jennie's body took on an even more alluring form – hips curved in invitation; and thighs spread apart in wanton display. Her back arched gracefully, accentuating the perfect curve of her spine and emphasizing the delicate line of her neck. It was a breathtaking sight, truly awe-inspiring - this beautiful creature beneath me, her body glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, her breath hitching with every thrust I made. Her moans, they were like sweet music to my ears, filling the room with an erotic symphony that echoed off the walls. They were desperate pleas for more, whispers of pleasure intermingling with the rhythmic crescendo of our bodies colliding. The sight and sounds of Jennie in the throes of ecstasy was intoxicating, pushing me further to the edge.

Every thrust was a desperate attempt to fuse our bodies together, to become one with this woman who held my heart captive. Our bodies collided with a force that belied the tenderness of our earlier lovemaking, a raw and primal display of unrestrained passion.

I reached down, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her spine, feeling the soft texture of her skin beneath my fingertips. Her body trembled beneath my touch, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. I leaned down and kissed her neck, my lips trailing a path of fire down to her collarbone. She moaned softly, her head tilting back to give me better access.

My hands slid down her body, cupping her firm buttocks. I squeezed gently, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch. Her hips moved involuntarily against mine, a desperate plea for more. I responded by thrusting into her with renewed vigor, my body driven by a primal need to claim her.

Jennie's body trembled beneath me, her muscles tensing and relaxing in a rhythmic dance of ecstasy. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, as she neared the precipice of release. Her body was a canvas of pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat as she writhed beneath me.

I could feel it too, the heat and tightness building between us, the overwhelming need to explode in a symphony of pleasure. It was like a volcano ready to erupt, the pressure building and building.

"Owen," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "I'm so close."

Her hushed murmurs were barely perceptible over the symphony of our pounding hearts and the wet slap of our bodies colliding in a rhythm as old as time itself. The scent of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, intoxicating me with every breath I took. I carefully parted the supple curves of her ass, my gaze transfixed on the provocative sight before me: myself buried deep within her slick, welcoming folds.

"I'm close too, fuck! I'm gonna cum" I surrendered to the primitive instinct within me, my hips driving against her with newfound urgency. The soft, supple curves of her back molded perfectly against the harsh angles of my chest and abdomen. Her skin was a living flame beneath my fingertips – hot, slick, and glistening with sweat that clung to her like a second skin. The intoxicating taste of salt and woman filled my mouth as I pressed kisses along the graceful arch of her neck, each one drawing a gasp or a moan from her lips in response.

Such sweet music she made – soft sighs and whimpers that danced in harmony with the symphony of our bodies colliding in rhythmic unison. They were notes on an erotic sonnet, each one resonating deep within me, igniting sparks that threatened to consume me whole.

As the intensity of our coupling began to overwhelm me, I felt my legs quivering, the pressure mounting and threatening to spill over. With a firm grip on her shoulders, I channeled all my strength into thrusting against her - plunging into Jennie with an urgency borne of pure desire and unbridled lust. Each thrust resonated deep within me, stirring up a tempest of emotions that swirled in harmony with the rhythm of our bodies colliding. The sweet friction generated by our union was as intoxicating as it was maddening.

The intensity of her orgasm was like a tidal wave, crashing over me and pulling me under. I could hear her screams of pleasure, echoing in my ears as she came undone beneath me. Her body trembled and quivered, every muscle taut and tense as she rode out the waves of ecstasy. Her nails dug into my back, leaving crescent moons etched into my skin as she held on for dear life. The sensation of her walls clenching around me, milking me for all I was worth, was almost too much to bear. I felt myself losing control, my own climax building rapidly as I thrust into her with abandon.

"Fuck, you're so tight," I groaned, my voice strained and desperate. "I'm gonna cum."

"Oh my God, Owen!" She cried out, her voice a desperate plea. "Fill me up!"

With a final, desperate thrust, I let go. The pleasure exploded outwards from my core, a blinding white light that consumed me whole. I felt myself spill into her, my release warm and thick as it filled her to the brim. Her body shook beneath me, her walls milking me for every last drop as she came undone once more. With a surge of desire, her inner walls gripped me tightly, milking every inch of my throbbing cock as she pressed herself against my groin. Her body trembled beneath me, the rhythmic motion causing her juices to mix with the heat of my own release, filling her to the brim with my essence. The sensation was overwhelming and intoxicating, a swirl of pleasure and wetness.

The culmination overwhelmed us, a torrent of delight that teetered on the edge of being unbearable. This peak, an oft-experienced sensation, was a mass consumption of joy that stemmed from my very essence. It was like a dazzling white glare, a flood tide crashing over me and pulling me under its swell. The impact nearly felt scary, but in the most positive way. It was as if each sensory neuron in me had been ignited, a harmonious symphony of sensations that left me breathless and quivering with fulfillment.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, I collapsed onto the bed beside her, my body spent and satisfied. I pulled her close, my arm wrapped around her waist as I pressed kisses to her neck and shoulder. Her body was still trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to catch her breath.

I looked into her eyes, and what I saw there was a mixture of pleasure and longing, a deep emotional and physical satisfaction that mirrored my own. I held her in my arms, her body still trembling from the force of our climax. Her hair was plastered to her face, sweat sticking to her skin in a way that only added to her allure. She was breathtaking – a sight that I knew I would never grow tired of. As she lay there in my arms, panting and heaving, I couldn't help but think about what could have been between us.

The intensity of our connection flooded my mind with memories and regrets. I thought back to our time together years ago, when things were different. When the possibilities between us seemed endless. Back then, I had felt the magnetic pull towards her – the urge to give myself to her fully, to commit everything I had. But the fear always held me back, gripping my heart like a vise. I was terrified of losing myself in her, of the vulnerability that comes with true intimacy. So I held back, keeping her at arm's length even as we shared our bodies and souls.

She had wanted more, I knew that even then. I could see it in her eyes whenever she looked at me – that simmering desire for the whole of my heart. But the fear was too strong, the habit of self-protection too ingrained. And so she eventually moved on, leaving me bereft and full of remorse.

Now here she was again, trembling in my arms like she belonged there. The old longings came flooding back, mingled with regret. If only I could go back and choose differently, give her the love she deserved. But it was too late for that. The best I could do was cherish these stolen moments together, even as I knew deep down that I would inevitably pull back again. She was my North Star, my guiding light – but one that I could never fully reach no matter how hard I tried. The thought filled me with equal parts bliss and anguish. I held her tighter as she drifted off to sleep, wishing I could freeze this moment forever. --

I draw an elongated, languid pull from my cigarette, allowing the nicotine to seep into my bloodstream as I linger on this balcony, my perch above the dazzling, pulsating cityscape of New York. The night air is sharp, a crisp contrast to the lingering warmth that still clings to my skin—a souvenir from our passionate interlude.

Inside, Jennie is nestled in the land of dreams, her petite frame delicately cocooned in the luxurious hotel sheets that still bear the scent of our shared desire. I ought to join her, to envelop her in my arms and surrender to the beckoning call of sleep. However, a restless energy pervades my being, my mind a volatile whirlpool in the aftermath of our tempestuous coupling.

Jennie, a beautiful enigma, belongs to another now—Yet, tonight, we merged in a wild conflagration of raw desire, our bodies entwining in a dance as old as time itself, lost in a sea of ecstasy. I staked my claim on every inch of her, driven by a primal need to etch myself into her memory, an indelible mark she'd never be able to erase. Her nails etched a path of fervor down my back, her cries a symphony spurring me forward as we hurtled towards the precipice of oblivion. And when that moment of release arrived, it was a cataclysm—a searing flash of divine perfection that shattered us, only to rebuild us anew.

Commitment has always been my Achilles heel, a specter I avoid with the agility of a seasoned matador. It terrifies me, this concept of vulnerability and surrender. The lessons life has imparted have taught me that nothing golden remains, so I seize my moments of joy with a fierce grip, refusing to hold too tightly lest they slip away. I prefer to exist in a world of beautiful fragments, a mosaic of fleeting moments, rather than be tethered to a monotonous eternity. These thoughts weave their way through my mind as I exhale the ashen smoke from my lips, the remnants of my vice liberated from the confines of my lungs.

I flick the cigarette over the edge, its glowing cherry tracing a fleeting arc in the obsidian night, a dying star lost in the city's neon abyss. Jennie, she is my Polaris, an immutable point of light guiding my aimless wanderings even when she's a universe away. The distance between us may stretch into miles, yet I find myself perpetually ensnared in her cosmic pull, tethered to the irresistible gravity of her radiance.

Perched high above the city, I cast my gaze downwards, drinking in the nocturnal theater below. A ceaseless ballet of headlights, the urban arteries throbbing with life—cars darting like metallic fish, blaring horns that sing a discordant symphony of the city's pulse. Amid the clamor, a melody tiptoes into my consciousness, a haunting siren's song birthed from the events of the night. My next creation, a symphony of sentiments woven into delicate prose, stands ready to unfurl. It's an intimate piece of my soul, a whisper of my essence, something to bare and share with the world. A tapestry of words dipped in the hues of my deepest longings, a lingering echo of my heartbeat, yearning to resonate in the hearts of those willing to lend an ear;

I'm in town for one night, one night only

I came around to put it down, for one night only

Just one night

Got a room for me and you, for one night only

You wanna ride for a lifetime, this is one night only

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My first fic, hope you guys like it.

#male reader #smut #jennie kim #blackpink #jennie #malereader #jennie x male reader #blackpink x male reader

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circeyoru · 2 months

Text

Unwanted Soul _ Part 3 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 (here) — Part 4 — Part 5

At first you allowed it because you understood Alastor was worried about you, as absurd as it was. Now it was plain annoying. Him requesting, no, that’s not the right word, forcing himself to be in the same bed as you. At first there was the excuse of you recovering and him not wanting you to roll over on you stomach to apply pressure to the wound. Then it was him not used to his new room. Now? He just flops onto the bed and hugs you no matter what you’re doing

“Do I look like a pillow to you???? Or a soft toy??????” “Darling, you are the best cloud ever.”

He doesn’t even mind you slapping the back of his head and snuggles closer to you. You gave up trying to escape his hold and continue with your reading or watching

It went as bad as to you needing a bigger bed since Alastor was always here with you. Alastor got you covered and gave you the best bed you could ever think of. You really just treated Alastor like one of your giant soft toys and slept, you’ll admit, listening to his heartbeat was more lulling than any other sounds. Your warmth and presence had the same effect to him

Oh, right. Alastor filled you in that you were in the hotel and you were occupying a room Alastor took for himself near his bedroom and radio tower. He connected your room with his, evident with the difference in style

You never seen his old room, but he did say he had half of the room as a bayou where he ate his meals. Yeah, he didn’t do that with you, never has he eaten a whole raw meat in front of you. This time though, it was just two different room styles on either way while the wall separating the two was gone. There was an extra door that replaced the window as a dimension to his feeding ground, you just never enter it

It happened out of the blue. When the room door opened and you thinking it was Alastor greeted him without looking. You noticed the lack of static or the obnoxiously loud announcement of his arrival, that’s when you looked up to see who you believe to be Husk from Alastor’s stories and reports

Before Husk knew what hit him, his neon green chains appeared and dragged him into the large room, the door closing and locking behind him. Husk landing on the ground looked up to see Alastor looming over him

You had to wack your memory to recall their relationship. Right, Husk was a former overlord of gambling and he lost his soul to Alastor in a bet to regain power. Poor choice of decision really. Why would you make deals with other Overlords that would want to knock you down? You looked away, thinking that it was none of your business how Alastor treated his souls, as long as he wasn’t like that to you

But your voice snapped Alastor out of whatever he was planning to the former Overlord, “Alastor, I’m craving some steak for tonight. Can you go to Rosie’s and get some nice ones?”

Of course Alastor knew you were giving Husk a save. Yet he can’t deny your request to have his cooking again. (you were binge eating snacks and cup noodles after your wound healed and didn’t want to eat his cooking) So he left into his shadows

Turning back to your laptop, you typed away for another new episode while Husk composed himself. You heard that sigh of relief, you knew Alastor was a cruel demon. You knew because he’d paint the streets red and black whenever sinners and demons alike would glance at you the wrong way, even worse when they said the wrong or vile things to you

“I’m curious, does anyone know I’m here?” “I know now.” “Mhm… You best leave before Alastor’s back and please don’t say anything. Else I’m positive you’d be wishing otherwise.” “Why are you here?” “I wonder too. Because of Alastor?”

You shouldn’t have phased it that way because Husk thought you were an innocent soul that Alastor took as well. That can’t be farther from the truth, but you let him believe as he please. Neither you nor Alastor wanted to disclose your hold over Alastor’s soul to anyone apart from the two of you. Perhaps you could play it like Alastor has your soul, that would make more sense. Maybe

Over dinner, you told Alastor that you’ll be making your appearance as his assistant in the hotel. That way it was reasonable to take the room next to his (that you are currently in) and you’d be always seen around Alastor (more like Alastor could always be near you). Alastor agreed without a second thought

He did added a little detail to your plan. That you two were romantically involved with each other. You shot that idea down immediately. Changing the subject, you told him how Husk thought you were the one that Alastor took the soul of. That gave him a good laugh and you a chuckle. Both of you calmed down, you with your small smirk and Alastor with his wide grin as you two met eye contact, thinking the same: That was such a ridiculous assumption

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet My Dearest Darling.” Alastor’s hand patted your shoulder “Nice to meet you all, Alastor’s told me all about you guys.” You had bowed your head a bit with a smile, appearing as humble as you could. The introductions went without hiccup, was what you would wish for “Pager! My good fellow!” Lucifer came over and wrapped you in a tight hug. “How have you been!?” You missed how Alastor was glaring daggers at Lucifer and the King of Hell was grinning like crazy. “Sire, just fine. Thank you for asking?”

Now it was everyone else’s turn to be shocked and confused. Questions came at you left and right. You didn’t even need to answer because Lucifer had told them you used to work for him. Your room would have been assigned next to Lucifer’s if not for Alastor’s intervention that you were to be ‘put to work’ under him

Well, now that there was something of an intermission for the hotel to bounce back to its former glory (if it had any), things were pretty chill around the hotel. Everyone did their things like usual. Though it was odd that things were unchanged, since you were supposed to be a new staff member. Yet they hardly saw you, nor did Alastor tell you to work on anything

All they knew was you were always in your room, doing whatever behind closed doors. Charlie and Vaggie had asked about you, from Alastor since you were barely out when they were active and the only other contact was through Alastor who was never bothered that you were slacking

Alastor reassured that you were writing scripts for his broadcast and doing your own research on something else, so you wouldn’t be leaving the room for the majority of the time

Everyone would catch Alastor using the kitchen at the oddest time of the day to cook or bake things, then bring it up to his radio tower to eat. When he was confronted on his odd mealtimes, he informs that it was yours. As for why he was the one making, he said it was because he sent you to work overtime and so he compromised

“The poor darling was feeling peckish so I, as the employer in charge, should do my duty, yes?” “Oh ho! No need to fret over my dear Pager upstairs, merely took a longer nap than usual and needed to delay dinner!” “My doe won’t be joining us for breakfast, still sleeping from all that work, you see. I’ll make some food later on.”

All lies. Each and every one of them. All this time, you were eating up on the internet provided by the hotel and doing what you do best. Laze around and chill. There was no work assigned, no script to be written, and certainly no research underway. You were doing what you would back home, now it was just a change in location. Then there’s Alastor joyfully serving you like always without change

But none was the wiser when any of them hardly knew you. Save for Lucifer. He’d pop into your room without Alastor’s notice and give you new books or comics or shows or whatever you please. All while saying they were gifts to you for all you’ve done for him. He was quickly chased out of the room when Alastor sensed another being with you

Now when it came to your break periods, your room wasn’t enough and you wandered around the hotel to stretch and give yourself a change of scenery

This was when everyone else got to talk to you and not through Alastor

Charlie got you to join in her exercises, wanting some feedback from you. You lazily joined, matching Angel’s attitude to it all. You two shared a knowing glance and smirk from time to time. Vaggie groaned and scolded Angel since he was the one that wants to be redeemed, but then turned to you to be more supportive and put heart into it since you were a staff

Alastor immediately poofed out of nowhere, hands on your shoulders while you had a bored look on your face at Vaggie. At the growing static, you sighed, “Please don’t.”

Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel raised a brow at your words. Vaggie wanting to pull you away from Alastor since from their point of view, Alastor was having a scary face again. Husk watched silently from the bar, wondering if you’d be ‘punished’ later behind closed doors for ordering the Radio Demon

But to everyone’s surprise, Alastor reverted back to normal and hummed, offering you his hand to escort you away from the group, “Shall we take a stroll outside the hotel, darling?”

That day, a whole street was painted red. You and Alastor returned late and just went to your room to rest. No one dared to question. They did wonder what would have happened if you said nothing when Alastor appeared behind you. Perhaps Vaggie was lucky she got off with a glare

You wandering the hotel became obvious to the others that you were ‘resting’ from your heavy workload given by Alastor which was rare, they noticed that there was no routine nor a fixed time you’d appear

They held off attacking Alastor about your workload since everytime they see you you weren’t complaining or drained in any way. So they continued as normal, sometimes asking Alastor if he was giving you enough breaks between work or if you were eating. Alastor kept up with appearances and assured them you were well and dandy. You had a good laugh at their concerns

Yeah, neither of you were going to correct it since there was no need

You’ll admit that Alastor was doing a good job at keeping people away from you, just as you like it. Though it could be because of his possessiveness you can tell. Still, it aligns with your wishes, so you leave it be

Once when you were on break and with Charlie and the others for a broad game day, another activity for bonding and the like. Suddenly left mid-game and went to the kitchen to cook, everyone thought Alastor was preparing for everyone’s lunch so no one questioned it. Soon enough you got up

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, everyone turned to you “Hungry.” It was like you were on autopilot when you turned to walk into the kitchen Everyone else shared a glance, thinking it was time for food anyways. “Let’s eat.”

They weren’t prepared to see you leaning against Alastor with your arms crossed over your chest meanwhile Alastor was having no trouble plating whatever dish was cooked. Another point, you were just causally touching Alastor and he didn’t do anything! He didn’t even make a peep and let you stay there while he worked

No one could touch Alastor unless he does it first. No one touches Alastor especially when he’s in the kitchen cooking!

“Have a seat, darling, food’s ready.” Alastor cooed “Mhm~ Looks nice.” You remarked with contentment as you pushed yourself off of Alastor and sat on one of the high chairs on the island Angel noticed how only you had food and no one else, complaining, “Hey, what about us?” Alastor turned over, shamelessly commenting, “Oh, I finished using the kitchen, you can make your own food now. Sorry for taking so long.” The condescension was gone when he turned his attention back to you, “How’s the food, dear?” “Good as always.” You praised, glancing up at him to know he was overjoyed at your words even with the lack of expression. His eyes narrowing while his grin widened was the hint. “Could use some mini cupcakes when we play the board games later.” “Say no more!” Alastor snapped his fingers, making a bunch of ingredients appear. He turned to the crew, “Apologies, but I’ll be using the kitchen since you’re all merely standing at the entrance!”

Yeah. Everyone came to the conclusion that Alastor was extra weird after you came to the hotel. They’d ask Alastor about it but he would dodge the question all together or he’d just shift the attention elsewhere. They’d love to ask you, since you were somewhat more approachable? But you were just rarely around. When you are around, Alastor was not far from you

Note: Yup. Part 3. Amazing right? I blame the ask and you can thank the ask. The writing mood just hit me like a truck, so here's the result

Guys I'm very tempted to change all the stories in ask to a post format so I can keep track of them! Not sure about this yet, but if I do do it, the stories in ask will be replaced with a link instead and the stories will be readable as a post (maybe with a picture of the ask?). Do I reboot all of them or just start with the next new request?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@nevermore-ramblings

@justboredforreal

@youroneandonlysimp

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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rapunzelbro · 3 months

Text

A Sacrifice for a friend Angel Dust x Reader 1

Tw/ extreme angst, implied death, sad shit so be warned. This is going to be one of the imagines that ends up being closer to a full blown fanfic

Masterlist Taglist

1 2 2.5 3 3.5 4 5 6 Statement

If Angel Dust was there 5 minutes before, maybe he would’ve been able to change your fate

Maybe if he stopped you from going out that night he could’ve stopped it

He knew you were reckless, he knew how much you cared but why did you do what you did for him of all demons?

Why the FUCK did you do it

You were Angel Dust’s closest friends, you were there from when he first got to the hotel, you two bounced off each others personalities and it made you two of the most annoying people in the Hazbin Hotel but y’all didn’t give a shit

You knew of his deal with Valentino, all the abuse, sex, movies he was forced to do. How he was forced to sign his life away to him. It was fucked.

You were there all the constant nights he came home bloody and bruised to take care of him, comfort him when production got rough, or when he felt at his lowest.

You were far from redemption and you knew that was a given, the only one you cared enough about was Angel Dust and helping his redemption. He was so close but so far

And helping him meant saving him from the hell he was going through. The contact he signed with Valentino which held his redemption back entirely

You were extremely bothered the few weeks leading up to your decision. You were more drunk than usual and avoided questions on why, when they appeared

Husk felt the shift in your mood instantly, and the intentions you had he was unclear of. You usually always had a bright smile and bubbly personality when you were drunk with Angel, but as the weeks passed, he saw the change and that personality slowly went away even if it wasn’t noticeable

He noticed

You started coming back to the hotel later, you always came back bothered and uneasy, you didn’t talk to the others as much it concerned Husk like hell

Everytime he tried to confront you, you were never there or yelled at him.

When it was time for your decision to be made, you had all of your stuff in boxes. Your room has never been so dull until now. Angel helped you decorate with all sort of pink colors and photos of everyone together, but now? it was just lifeless

Everyone was asleep when you walked towards the exit, except for Husk

“Don’t do anything stupid Y/n”

“I can’t guarantee that Husk”

You giving him a smile before you left to do what you had to do whether you were scared shitless or not

Valentino hearing ‘I want to make a deal’ and he is instantly interested

“What will get you to release the contract on Angel Dust”

You’re straight to the point. You already know the answer, which you’ve been preparing for

“He’s my top money maker~ You’d have to give me your soul in exchange for his freedom”

He has his hand out, his signature glasses slightly positioned down to look you in the eyes with a Cheshire Cat like smile

“Do we have a deal?”

You staring at his hand before grabbing onto it

“Deal”

The moment you say that your arms and legs are covered in thick pink smoke before you’re pulled under

“Y/N WHAT THE FU”

That was the last thing you heard followed by the sound of chains breaking

you were pulled in an empty room filled with the similar pink fog coming from one of Valentinos crushed cigarettes.

While the poison of the pink fog holds you still with the tangible arms, you accepted it, you didn’t struggle when your body gave up on you

You accepted your fate long ago

Angel Dust tag list: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @satansmanager @storydays

#hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin art #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel valentino x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

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belladonazeppole · 2 months

Text

Rewrite The Stars

(Here is part 2 @adyophene )

It's been some long days since Lilith arrival at the hotel.

For some reason Alastor become more obsesive with Husk even dropping the fake charm sometimes and treat Husk worst but they finally have a moment just the two of them; not his ex-wife or Alastor near to hear them

Especially for what Lucifer wants to tell Husk.

'You know I want you it's not a secret I try to hide.' It feel so good finally saying it and different from the first time he ever wanted somebody.

He can see how the bartender fur bristle at his words, 'You know you want me so don't keep saying our hands are tied'' They isn't turning around, 'You claim it's not in the cards and fate is pulling you miles away and out of a reach from me but you're hearing my heart so who can stop me if I decide it's on my destiny?'

Fuck destiny!

He doesn't care about fate or what anybody else has to say about them; not Lilith, the high raking demon, even less Alastor.

He make his decision.

He wanted to give love another chance.

It was the choice he make for himself.

With a hand movement he opens the portal showing the golden circus tent, 'What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine nothing could keep us apart." He starts to fly slowly while offering his hand wanting for Husk to take it.

Maybe Husk wasn't made for him but it was something they slowly build.

They weren't made for the other but it felt so right to say it.

It made sense for him.

'You'll be the one I was meant to find it's up to you, and it's up to me, no one could say what we get to be so why don't we rewrite the stars?' And maybe the world could be ours, tonight.'

Husk just stare at his hand, his ring gone long ago, to then look at him.

He look so tired and defeated, 'You think it's easy, you think I don't wanna run to you, yeah but there are chains and there are doors that we can't walk through.' He said trying his best in not freaking out, Husk wasn't blind about what he felt about Lucifer, he was actually happy of hearing that Lucifer felt the same.

But reality had to pop their bubble.

Husk was in chains.

Not only of chains of him.

'I know you're wondering why because we're able to be just you and me within these walls but when we go outside.' The hotel is a safe place where they could mess around but outsisd?, 'You're gonna wake up and see that it was hopeless after all.' The sinners are brutal, not just Alastor, the moment they see in who the king of hell wants he would become more of a laughing stock.

A loser.

An old gambler.

A fucking pet.

'No one can rewrite the stars, how can you say you'll be mine?'' They weren't meant to be.

Everything and everyone wanted them to be away.

And he isn't worthy of the effort.

'Everything keeps us apart and I'm not the one you were meant to find. It's not up to you, it's not up to me, yeah. When everyone tells us what we can be and how can we rewrite the stars?' Why fight for him? Lucifer could choose anybody.

While Husk a fool that always fall for somebody out of his reach even if this time the person was offering his hand in front of him.

Lucifer was a fool for loved him.

Husk was an even more for loving again.

'Say that the world can be ours, tonight.' And like the fool he was he took the hand of the king.

Because he crave for love.

For happiness.

For freedom.

'All I want is to fly with you.'

'All I want is to fall with you.'

'So just give me all of you, it feels impossible.' Husk wanted to test the sincere love of the king even if he didn't think it was worthy, 'It's not impossible.' The conviction and determination in his eyes making, foolish, believe that they had a chance.

'Is it impossible?' He pleaded for an answer.

'Say that it's possible.' He gave hom something worse.

Hope.

And Husk took it.

The both fly for what it felt like hours but it was just seconds, 'And how do we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine and nothing can keep us apart, cause you are the one I was meant to find." For those moment they gave what the other wanted.

Be loved again.

Be in the arms of other person.

Believe they're worth of love.

"It's up to you, and it's up to me, no one could say what we get to be and why don't we rewrite the stars?'

"Changing the world to be ours." The king gave a hopefull smile but the sinner couldn't do the same.

They were so close, 'You know I want you it's not a secret I try to hide but I can't have you." Yet so far away.

'We're bound to break and my hands are chained.' A green chain appears around Husk neck and pull him down to the darkness.

#hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #husker #husk #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #royalflush #lucihusk #this end up more tragic than I imagine #like waaay worse

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kaciidubs · 9 months

Text

Crave You

❣ Summary: Lollapalooza had you seeing stars, and now you were determined to make Changbin see the same. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 467 ❣ Warnings: Changbin has a thick cock, riding [cowgirl], implied unprotected sex [we're all adults here, your decision is your own], pussy drunk Changbin, slight Dom! Reader, smut with a hint of fluff ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Reader is referred to as bunny and baby, Changbin is referred to as Binnie and baby, Changbin you have wrecked me for the last time you haven't bby ily ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣

“Baby- Baby, slow down, f-fuck slow down!”

Changbin’s breathless pleas rang in your ears, but they merely coaxed you to dig your knees deeper into the mattress and bear your hips down harder on his own, so much so that the bed shook with each bounce.

You were riding him like a woman possessed - barely giving him time to shut the door of his hotel room before you were dragging him toward bed and commanding him to drop his pants.

Ever since you left Lollapalooza you were on ten, body buzzing from the rush of energy still flowing through your system and mind reeling from the image of your boyfriend on stage - flaunting his sculpted arms in the black tank top he was styled in without a care in the world about the lives he was putting at risk.

What about you? What about your sanity?

Well, you figured he’d get to experience it first hand once they left the venue - and boy, was he experiencing it.

The heavy slaps of your ass against his thighs bounced off the walls of the hotel room, the sound of his moans and your ragged panting creating a symphony orchestrated from pure lust and need.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Binnie,” you whimper, hands sliding from their perch on his wide shoulders down to rest on his covered pectorals, your thumbs toying with the silver chain dangling from his neck, “you have no idea- would’ve jumped you on that stage if I could.”

You could feel his cock twitch at your words, his hands squeezing your hips as his only option was to simply hold on for the ride - too far gone to even attempt to change the tides, not that he even wanted to at this point.

“Could-” A choked whimper left his mouth, “Could’ve had me backstage, Bunny - would’ve made you come on my fingers twice before the next set.”

Shaking your head, your viscous bounces turned into slow grinds, rocking the fat head of his cock against the sponge of your g-spot, “No, no- need you just like this, baby - stretching me open so fucking good.”

His head fell back against the headboard with a low thump, a breathless whine falling from his lips, “Shit, you can’t say shit like that while you’re riding me like this, I’ll-”

“-come?” You finished for him with a devilish smirk, bringing your hands to his jaw and angling his head back to level with yours, drinking in the fog of lust dilating his pupils. “Then come baby, we’ve got all night and I want that mouth of yours next.”

Lifting your hips again, you brought them back down with a heavy smack, your joined moans piercing the heavy atmosphere.

If you were possessed, then you were going to make him mindless.

❣ Seo Changbin... the man that you are... I'm telling my parents about us. JK but seriously, Lollapalooza??? SKZ in Paris?? I'll never be the woman I once was. ❣ ❣ Any type of feedback is appreciated! Whether it be a simple like, reblog, or keyboard smash and the most essay-like comment, feel free to share your thoughts. ❣

#kacii's masterlist #stray kids smut #skz smut #seo changbin smut #seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #changbin x you #changbin smut

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sapphire-writes · 7 months

Text

Chapter 1: Welcome Home

main masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter

summary ~ Hired by the elusive Aemond Targaryen, you arrive at Harrenhal House to care for his niece and nephew. Things go bump in the night.

warnings below the cut for your convenience

warnings ~ spooky ghostly stuff, angst, mentions of death, loss of a child, blood, wound care

note: and so begins our spooky adventure! I hope you enjoy it!

banner made by the ever lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

Harrenhal stands on the edge of our world atop lush, green hills. The God’s Eye Lake is the biggest in the country, more like the sea than any landbound body of water you’d ever seen before.

As the Uber driver creeps along the bend of the God’s Eye, the old manor begins to come into view. A thick layer of fog seems to cling to the bricks; gray tendrils creeping onto the driveway and spilling onto the lawn.

“Are you a long way from home?” your driver asks, meeting your eyes in the rearview as he attempts to strike up polite conversation. You assume it’s because of the rather rough start you got off with him.

“Harrenhal House?” he had asked, face red, eyes wide, “That place is cursed.”

Not exactly the warm welcome you had wished for when you arrived in the Riverlands. Not exactly the impression Aemond Targaryen had given in his email when he offered you the job. The interview had been completed over the phone. His voice was cold, words clipped as though he wanted to find someone qualified and quickly to care for his niece and nephew.

The car pulls up to Harrenhal, tires crunching against the gravel of the driveway. The iron gates were open as you’d driven up, expecting your arrival. Hedges and statues covered with moss decorate the path toward the main house. The car slowly creeps closer. Your driver clutches the wheel as though the house means to swallow him whole.

Harrenahal stands out like a stain against the clear blue sky. It is an enormous manor, with shutters, and brick the color of pitch. The terrifying eyesore of the Riverlands. Crows have made their nests in several of the gables, their beady black eyes watching intently as the car comes to a halt.

A murder.

Of course, you’d done your research before accepting the position. Both on the home and on your host.

Harrenhal had a grizzly history. Your driver wasn’t wrong when he called it a cursed place. But the dead didn’t scare you. You had ghosts of your own.

Aemond Targaryen was a different story. Second son of Viserys Targaryen, whose recent passing was still hot news in the corporate world. Not that you paid close attention, but you’d heard there still had been no decision on the naming of the new CEO of Fire & Blood Co.

The death of the patriarch seemed to trigger a chain reaction of devastating events. If Harrenhal was cursed, so was the Targaryen family tree. Wherever the silver-haired blue bloods go, tragedy seems to follow.

The death of little Jaehaerys is the most tragic of all.

You’d yet to see a child-sized coffin and desperately hoped you never would.

They’d whisked Helaena Targaryen away from the boisterous streets of King’s Landing rather quickly after the funeral of her first son. After her accident.

You didn’t know what had happened, it was omitted from the press. Even the tabloids had only guesses. You doubt there are many limitations to actions caused by a mother’s grief.

Jaehaerys left two siblings behind; a twin sister and an infant brother still too young to toddle. Aemond Targaryen was hardly ready to be a father. You’d researched him as well and read about his ascent up the corporate ladder.

The boost of nepotism couldn’t have hurt, but from what you could tell, as you hunched over your laptop in the darkness of your hotel room, Aemond Targaryen had worked hard for his success. A tragic accident when he was a child left him blind in his left eye, leaving it cloudy and sightless, though nothing more was disclosed online about the incident.

There were other Targaryen siblings; an elder sister from a first marriage, a party boy, and another brother backpacking through the eastern continent. You flipped through countless articles and stalked the Instagram pages of the elusive family.

However, Aemond Targaryen did not have social media.

What he did have, was a marriage announcement, followed soon after by an obituary.

A handsome young widower. Not even thirty.

The deceased wife was much older. You’d browsed through Google images while slurping cold pad Thai, though there were hardly any pictures of them as a couple. Aemond seemed to avoid the press at every chance.

There weren’t many photos of him; just candid shots here and there—a dark suit, a flash of silver hair. You had shut your laptop after that, feeling suddenly self-conscious, as though Aemond would know you’d read about him the first time he laid eyes on you.

Your Uber driver helps deposit your bags onto the gravel, shutting the trunk with a grunt. He turns to you, eying the manor nervously, as though it's a living thing waiting to open its jaws and devour you.

“You be careful, love,” he tells you, nodding towards the house.

“I’m tougher than I look,” you assure, awarding him a wry smile.

The smile he offers in return is more of a grimace, and he is quick to return to the safety of his vehicle. You grab your carry-on and the handle of your suitcase, gazing up at the manor. A crow caws, alerting the others to your arrival.

A group of crows is called a murder.

You walk up to the doors, knocking once, twice. There is no answer. Turning the handle, you stepped into the grand foyer. A large staircase is the first thing you see, though you’re distracted by the man walking down the steps at a leisurely pace.

Aemond Targaryen is more intimidating than the candid photos you’d hungrily browsed. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His long, silver hair is braided into a bun resting at the nape of his neck, a few tendrils ghosting around his face. Pouty lips, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a beautiful straight, pointed nose.

You’d always had a thing for noses.

Seven hells. Stop that. This guy is your boss, your employer.

His eyes. One blue, the other milky and lifeless. The gash of a faded scar running up the side of his face only served to make me more handsome.

He greets you with the title of Miss, the gentle timbre of his voice floating down to you. It’s so formal, as though you’ve walked through a portal into a Jane Austin novel. He doesn’t smile, just watches you, sizing you up.

Fucking hell, he’s even more handsome in person.

The man could be a model if business doesn’t work out for him.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you watch him descend the steps. With his hands in his pockets, and white button-down sleeves rolled to his elbows, he oozes an air of cold confidence as his eyes trace over you. He doesn’t offer a hand to shake, despite his formality. Even when he removes his hands from his pockets, letting one drag slowly down the railing.

“You didn’t arrive with any other baggage?” Aemond quips, the fingers of his left hand uncurling from a clenched fist.

You blink, before glancing at your suitcase, at the carry-on bag beside it, “No…?”

Aemond hums to himself, lips pressed firmly together. His face gives nothing away, an emotionless mask of disinterest.

“No estranged boyfriend who’ll be coming looking for you?” he asks pointedly.

Your cheeks warm at his statement. You should have guessed he’d be direct. He didn’t ask you in the interview about a partner; just made sure you were able to commit to the position for at least six months.

“No,” you tell him, “No boyfriend.”

His eyes, both the blue and the milky sightless, hold your gaze intently before he nods.

“Follow me then.”

Aemond gives you a tour of the house, showing you all the rooms you’ll have access to. Mysteries are hidden behind closed doors that Aemond doesn’t acknowledge, including a closed door decorated with paintings of vines and flowers. He omits the majority of the west wing of the house which includes the location of his study.

A man has his secrets, you suppose.

What he does show you is the kitchen, along with the nursery and the library. Despite the age of the house, the kitchen is large and modern, with cabinets painted a deep forest green beside stainless steel appliances. A gas stove houses a tea kettle, ready and waiting.

He shows you to your room last; on the eastern side of the house close to the nursery. You follow him down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silence. Aemond has not attempted small talk throughout the tour of the house.

Aemond has stayed silent unless he is informing where he is taking you next, his hands clasped behind his back. It almost looks uncomfortable, the way he holds himself upright, his spine straight as an arrow.

“Your sister lives here as well, right?” you ask absentmindedly looking at the tapestries that decorate the hall.

Aemond stops in front of a door, turning back to you. Those cold eyes stoke a fire within you, setting you ablaze with each glance. He is silent for a moment before he opens the door.

“This is your room,” he continues, ignoring your question, “There are extra sheets in the lower drawers, and on Sundays, the housekeeper comes to strip the beds and tend to the rest of the house.”

He opens the bottom drawers of the large oak dresser. A large mirror rests on top of it accompanied by a dark jewelry box. The dresser matches the rest of the furniture in the room; all dark stained wood as though each piece was dunked in ink. A large four-poster bed sits in the middle of the room, the green comforter is warm and inviting. You can see God’s Eye from the large arched window; the water sparkles with the afternoon light cascading across the surface like diamonds.

“I hope you’ll find it satisfactory,” Aemond says.

You turn to face him, standing in front of the window letting the warmth of the sun on your face.

“It’s more than satisfactory,” you tell him, “Straight out of a Shirley Jackson novel.”

Aemond shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, seemingly perturbed by your praise. He purses his lips, glancing at the carpeted floor. You swear he’s smirking slightly.

“A backhanded compliment.”

“It’s not meant to be,” you assure him, your face warming with embarrassment.

“Yes well,” he says, clearing his throat, “Let's hope that’s how the buyers feel as well.”

“I didn’t realize you meant to sell,” you tell him.

“It’s ours for now, but I mean to relocate to Summerhal,” he comments, “This house isn’t held long.”

That’s all he says on the matter. You don’t ask him to elaborate. You doubt he would anyway, he seems keen to ignore your curiosity. Aemond leads you down the stairs once more and out through the kitchen onto a stone patio. The view of God’s Eye is spectacular, it’s close enough to stand at the edge if only you run down the hill.

A garden disrupts the spacious greenery and you walk beside Aemond, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“She’s here, she’s here!” a small voice calls, followed by a young girl bursting through the doors and out onto the patio.

“Jaehaera!” a woman calls, chasing after the young girl.

She races down the steps to where you stand with Aemond in the gardens. Cheeks rosy, smiling brightly, Jaehaera Targareyn boldly walks up in front of you. Her blue eyes are wide and she holds out a fist full of daisies.

“I’ve picked these for you,” she declares and you kneel to meet her height, “Talya said I needed to wait.”

You take the flowers from her, pressing them against your nose and inhaling their sweet scent. You’ve always loved daisies.

“Which you did not,” Tayla says, catching her breath as she arrives, “I’m sorry sir she didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Aemond quips, arms tucked behind his back, “They needed to meet anyway.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jaehaera. I love your dress,” you tell her, and she twirls letting her baby-blue skirt billow around her.

“You’re much prettier than Kepus told me,” Jaehaera says, eyes drinking in every inch of your face.

“I told you I hadn’t any idea what she looked like,” Aemond gently corrects.

You smile, chest feeling warm at her kindness. You tell her your name and her nose crinkles.

“I’m going to call you Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera declares softly, “Because of how perfectly lovely you are.”

“Someone’s been practicing their High Valyrian,” Aemond remarks, “Have you had your lessons today?”

Jaehaera sighs, a very small sound, “Kessa kepus.”

“Syz riña,” Aemond says, a small smile appearing on his face before glancing at you, “You’ll have to meet Maelor as well.”

“Though he’s rather boring,” Jaehaera interrupts, “He only sleeps. I told muña I wanted a sister. I already have a brother.”

Your stomach flips at her words and you glance at Aemond. His expression is stoic, though Talya pales beside him. She steps forward, kneeling next to Jaehaera, who is busy counting the petals of the daisies you now hold.

“Jaehaera,” she says, forcing a small smile.

“What?”

Tayla grimaces, placing a hand on her shoulder, “We’ve talked about-”

“I want to see muña,” Jaehaera interrupts, shaking off Talya’s comforting hand. She glances at Aemond for help, though he offers none.

“She’s resting now….”

“I want to see her!” Jaehaera insists, louder this time lower lip wobbling.

“Why don’t you say goodbye to Talya first,” Aemond says, “She’s been very kind accompanying you here.”

“You’re leaving?” you ask the woman.

“I’m needed elsewhere, this was a very temporary arrangement,” she tells you.

“She works for my mother,” Aemond clarifies, nostrils flaring slightly, “She was unable to make the journey here.”

You remember reading about Alicent Hightower. You don’t see any of his mother in Aemond’s features. Where Alicent is soft, Aemond is sharp; nose straight and long, chin prominent. The word lethal comes to mind.

Aemond has looks to kill.

You shake your head trying to clear your thoughts.

“Can I show you my room?” Jaehaera asks, smiling once more.

“I’d love that,” you tell her, letting her place her small hand in yours and lead you back towards the house.

You glance behind you, watching as Aemond and Talya converse before Harrenhal swallows you once more.

“Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera asks, tugging her comforter up to her chin, “Are you going to stay with us for a long time?”

You stop picking up some of her toys from the floor. You’d been playing with dolls since after dinner and had just settled down to read a story before bed. You smile, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“I am,” you tell her, “Your uncle is working very hard and needs a little extra help.”

Jaehaera nods, taking in the words you speak. Her blue eyes watch you carefully, seeming wiser than her years.

“I like you,” she says softly, “Kepus likes you too. I can tell. He just doesn’t say so.”

You smile at her. Aemond was clearly softer in the presence of Jaehaera. He’d been more pleasant at dinner than when you’d first arrived. Helaena was absent from supper.

“You’re not going to leave? No matter what?”

You stroke some hair from her face, “I am not going anywhere, any time soon.”

Jaehaera scoots down, laying back against her pillow. You stand, pulling the covers up when something catches your eye. You reach under her pillow, removing a doll that was hidden there.

“Who’s this?” you ask, staring at the doll.

It’s barely a doll, more a stick of melted charred plastic, warped from the heat. You can see remnants of legs and arms, the path a flame must have licked up through the plastic; the hair burnt to the scalp. The face is unrecognizable.

Jaehaera reaches up, closing her small fingers around it.

“He stays here,” she tells you, “He likes to stay inside his castle.”

Geez. Creepy or what? You force a smile, letting her take the weird Barbie.

“Okay,” you tell her, “Goodnight Jaehaera.”

“Goodnight Miss Gevie,” she sing-songs.

“You know, you can just call me by my name,” you remind her.

“I like Miss Gevie better, it suits you,” she insists, yawning.

You find yourself yawning as well, and head to bed. The manor is quiet as you make your way to your room, tucking in for the night.

Sleeping in a new place can cause strange dreams.

A bloodcurdling scream tears through the halls of the sleepy manor, its icy tendrils ripping you from your dreams and back into your bed. You awake with a gasp, sucking in air as though you’d been held underwater, just breaking through the surface. Hand clutching your throat you sit up, hair sticking to the back of your neck from the layer of sweat that covers your body.

The house is quiet once more.

Breathing heavily you sit up in bed for a moment, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You rise on shaky legs moving towards the door, and the ancient doorknob groans in protest as you turn it.

The hallway is dark, moonlight shining through the window at the end painting the floor with streaks of silver.

Maybe you were still dreaming.

But then, a low groan begins, the guttural sounds of a mourning mother’s wail. It washes over you like ice water and your stomach turns as the scream reaches its highest peak. Despite the alarm in your mind telling you to turn back into your room and hide under the covers, you race down the hallway towards the sound.

With each and every step toward the western wing, the screaming gets louder, broken up with deep sobs. You quicken your pace, bare feet padding against the carpet as you reach the source. The door you’d passed earlier, painted with flowers and twisting vines is open now, yellow light pouring into the hall from the lamp.

Aemond holds a girl in his arms--not a girl but a small woman; she’s frail, elbows poking against flesh like a starved baby bird, tears streaming down her ashy cheeks. Her silver hair is damp with perspiration, clinging to her face and neck as she clutches Aemond’s forearm. They’re in a heap together on the floor, Aemond’s arms tensed around her as he gently shushes her.

“Helaena…it's alright, it was just a dream,” he assures her, his voice softer and warmer than you’ve heard since meeting him.

He glances up at you, acknowledging your presence but saying nothing; his entire attention is on his sister.

“It’s never just a dream,” Helaena wails, nails digging into Aemond’s forearm, “Or maybe it is, maybe I’m asleep even now.”

A chill runs down your spine at Helaena’s words.

“Maybe I’ve been sleeping all along,” she continues, eyes glassy and her voice hoarse, “I could feel him, Aemond, it was so real.”

“I know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I could feel him…in my arms….against my breast like when he was a baby…feeding, it was so real,” she says, her voice dropping into a whisper.

Helaena’s lips trembled, parted in a silent sob. The hand that does not anchor her to Aemond rests atop her breast, as though she can feel Jaehaerys against her chest even now.

“It’s alright dōna mandia,” Aemond murmurs, still stroking her hair. He rocks back and forth, starting a gentle pace to soothe her, “Go to the kitchen.” His voice is directed at you this time, your eyes meeting his. The tone he uses is still soft, and when you don’t move, he gestures toward the hall with a nod of his head.

“Do you hear him?” Helaena continues, “Running down the hall? Jaehaerys! Māzigon kesīr dōna valonqar!” (Come here, sweet boy).

“There’s no one there, Helaena,” Aemond soothes.

“I hear him,” she sobs, turning her face into Aemond’s chest, “Why can’t you hear him?”

Helaena’s sobs and questions are still ringing through your head as you leave the room, heading downstairs.

You make your way to the kitchen, standing in the dark, shocked for a moment before turning on the light. Helaena’s cries and pleas still echo in your mind as you fill the kettle left on the stove and turn on the gas burner. Searching through cabinets you find an array of handmade mugs, choosing a purple one with a twisted handle.

You rummage through some more drawers until you find some herbal tea, setting it beside the stove as you wait for the water to boil. You tap your fingers against the counter, a nervousness curling in your belly as you gaze out the window that leads to the backyard. You had known Helaena wasn’t well, but you didn’t realize just how serious it was.

You inhale a deep breath trying to steady yourself. It’s shaken you up quite a bit, hearing her agonized screams. Your hands tremble and you press your palms flat against the counter. A door slams from somewhere upstairs and you glance at the ceiling.

You look out the window once more, peering into the darkness. The God's Eye is just a still pool reflecting the light of the moon. A shadow moves behind you, reflecting in the glass and you gasp turning around.

“Seven hells!” you curse as Aemond walks into the kitchen, “You scared me.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just watches you for a moment, chest rising and falling with his breath. He must have also been asleep when Helaena’s terrors began as he’s clad in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, silver hair loosely braided down his back.

Ruby-red beads of blood blossom from the crescent-shaped marks on Aemond’s left forearm. You watch them swell into ruby marbles against his porcelain flesh before he grabs a rag on the counter, covering them.

“Are you alright?” you ask, as Aemond sits in a chair.

It’s almost like he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him; he takes a moment to process before he nods. You watch him as he stares at the table, tension rolling off his shoulders. The kettle begins to whistle and you quickly remove it from the stovetop, turning off the flames.

You pour your own mug before moving to the cabinet where you’d found it, retrieving a second. This one is green with gray streaks. Another handmade treasure, you’re sure.

You make Aemond a cup of tea, placing it in front of him before taking the seat next to him. His eye flickers toward the steaming cup. Though he hesitates for a moment, he wraps his long fingers against it, pulling it closer.

“It’s hot,” you tell him, as he lifts it to his lips.

“I don’t mind,” he murmurs. You’d likely burn your lip if you didn’t wait a few minutes. Aemond sighs contentedly, violet eye meeting yours.

“Thank you,” he says softly, “I should have told you…”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, “I figured she was grieving. You’d mentioned she’d been unwell.”

“The doctors say it's night terrors,” Aemond comments, taking another sip, “Due to the trauma she’s experienced.”

“That makes sense.”

“I’m meant to speak with her psychiatrist later this week,” he says, “She’s begun a new medication to help her sleep. I don’t think it’s been doing her any good.”

“Sometimes those things take time,” you tell him, trying to ease some of his distress. He merely hums in response, as though he’s heard it all before. You glance at the rag on his forearm, biting on your lower lip before deciding to speak again. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Aemond nods, bringing a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Above the fridge,” he murmurs, not looking up.

Rising from your seat, you retrieve the small kit, and place it on the table in front of you. You reach out toward him, tentatively moving the rag from his forearm, revealing the crescent-shaped marks. They’ve begun to clot, and you fold the rag into a small square, placing it on the table beside you. You dig for a few bandaids settling for the smallest ones.

“She had nowhere else to go,” Aemond says, more to himself than to you as you place the bandages on his arm, “Jaerhara, and Maelor they need to be with family. There’s no one else. Nowhere else.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” you tell him, pulling your hands away. You reach for your mug, placing your hands around it and letting the warmth seep into you.

Aemond hums, not answering, though he seems unconvinced by your statement.

“I mean it,” you tell him, “I can see how much you care about them. And your sister.”

Aemond meets your eye once more, his gaze softening.

“She is the best person,” he tells you, his voice even and calm, “The best mother….the best sister.”

There’s pain hidden behind the words that he speaks; you can hear it coating his voice.

“She’s just in one of her hard times,” he assures you, “She goes through phases. Not..not wanting to see Maelor…it comes and goes.”

You reach for his hand. In the heat of the moment, you’re not sure what else to do. There are no more words of comfort to offer him. Your hand fits in his perfectly, resting on top of the table. His palm is warm, the skin surprisingly calloused. Your lips part, a soft gasp slipping free at the feeling of his hand in yours.

Eyes wide, you smile softly at him before squeezing comfort into his hand. Aemond doesn’t squeeze back, but he doesn’t pull his hand away either. You sit like that for several minutes, neither of you moving.

“Your tea will get cold,” Aemond eventually murmurs, breaking the silence.

Your hand slips out of his grasp, the sudden emptiness making you shiver. Clutching the mug, you bring it to your lips, sipping carefully.

It’s already cold.

How long have you been sitting here?

Aemond is watching you still, as you lower the mug. He stands then, taking both mugs to the sink.

“It’s late,” he comments, “We should get some sleep.”

You nod, standing. Aemond pushes into your chair, walking beside you back upstairs. He turns toward the western wing.

“You’re not going to sleep?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

“I am,” Aemond says, turning slightly, “I prefer to stay in my study.”

“Oh,” you comment, “Well ... .goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says before disappearing down the hallway.

You return to your room, lying underneath the covers trying to get warm when you come to a realization.

That was the first time Aemond had called you by your name.

note: let me know what you think! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them)

if you would like to be tagged in this series, please let me know!

ACP taglist: @aebi12 | @lokiofasgard12 | @darkenchantress

bold means I could not tag!

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#aemond x reader #modern!aemond #modern!aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fic #halloween fic #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #modern au #halloween au

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scekrex · 2 months

Note

Hey absolutely love your stuff (obviously since I keep requesting lol) anyways could I request Adam who somehow survived after getting beaten up by Lucifer and stabbed who even knows how many times by Niffty gets found by the reader who while an overlord isn't that powerful is super rich (I also picture them being like a mix of Alastor and Vox where like Alastor still holds a lot of more old timey views but also tries to adapt with the changing views like Vox) and decides to take him back to his mansion to try and help him survive (wants to make a few bucks later using him) after a bit the two share an oh fuck moment when they realized they have caught feelings. I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

Overlord reader?? Uh fuck yeah!! I fucking love this ask so much xoxo/p

Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4 ; Part 5 ; Part 6

Chains on my lips just add flames to the fire

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language & sexual tension

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The battlefield was a mess through and through and while the devil and his daughter had built up the hotel again, a new, more inviting looking building was now located on the lonely hill in the pride ring, you still felt Adam's presence. The residents of the hazbin hotel must've already forgotten about him and therefore didn't notice you at all, too caught up in their doing.

The first man was badly injured and while you normally wouldn't care for such things, especially because it was an exorcist angel, this case was special. Because not only was the brunette laying in front of your feet the first man god had ever created, no, he was also the leader of said exorcists. You could only imagine how many sinners and Hellborn people would pay a good amount of money to harm him, even if it was just the slightest injury possible. So you bowed down and scooped the passed out man in your arms. If these sinners and even Lucifer didn't care for him, you would put him to good use. For your own benefit that was, but no one had to know about that yet. So you carried the first man across the entire pride ring of hell until you reached your home. The brunette man in your arms was still unconscious and given the blood he had lost and the hits he had taken that was pretty normal.

Once inside your mansion, you headed to the hospital wing, walking through the building with slow, heavy steps that echoed through the empty hallways. The hospital wing was close to the entrance, a decision you had made after stumbling through the doors with a fatal wound that had been exposing your guts. It was quicker to reach in an emergency and while those rarely occurred, you didn't like the risk. You put the first man down onto one of the beds, your claw sliced smoothly through the fabric of his once holy robe to get it out of the way. You needed to take care of the stab wounds the nifty little demon girl had caused. The stabs were deep but nothing you couldn't fix. You gave Adam one last glance before you stepped over to the medicine cabinet and for a quick moment you asked yourself why Lilith and Eve had left Adam, he wasn't bad looking at all, quite the opposite. And Lucifer had mentioned that Adam had ‘kinda let himself go’ which meant back when the two women were married to him, he must have looked even better. You quickly shook your head, what in the devil's name were you even thinking?

With wound cleaning supplies and a healing potion you stepped back to Adam's bed, the first human ever seemed to be slowly waking up. He braced his palms against the mattress, tried to lift himself up but you were quick to push him back down, the more he moved while his wounds were still ripped open the more blood he lost. And while Adam would be able to recover either way, the more blood stayed inside of his body, the better. At least that's what you thought. “Stay,” you hummed as you cleaned the blood from his skin. It was unusual to clean off golden blood instead of the red mess you were so used to. But you didn't mind, didn't care even.

Adam flinched away from your touch, tried to lift himself up yet again. Your hand took a hold of his throat and held him down by it, “I said stay, stupid angel.” Adam's eyes seemed to clear up a little, the fog that had covered his golden eyes, had made them seem yellow, lifted and the brunette stared at you, clearly not knowing what to feel. You saw anger in his eyes, rage and hatred but at the same time there was fear. Fear and pain.

Once the blood was no longer staining his perfect skin, you took the potion you had grabbed, popped the cork and held the smooth, cold glass against his bottom lip, “Open up,” you demanded, yet your voice stayed gentle. Adam hesitated and you really couldn't blame him. “It will cause your wounds to heal,” you explained to the former leader of the exorcists and he seemed to consider his opinions for a moment. Then he actually parted his lips and let you spill the disgusting liquid onto his tongue. His face scrunched up at the bitter taste and he kept the liquid in his mouth. “Swallow it, Adam.” Adam looked up at you, once again seemingly considering alternatives he had. Given the fact that he did as you told him, there hadn't been many.

Adam checked his chest as the wounds that had caused enough pain to make him pass out healed quickly. The only hint left that they ever even existed were golden scars that seemed to be permanent from now on, but the first man couldn't complain, could he? He was still alive and on top of that there was no more pain. The first man frowned at you, mistrust was lingering heavy in his eyes as golden orbs followed your every move. Yet he remained silent, not a single word was falling from his lips.

Your hand that had been holding him down by his throat let go of him and Adam was sitting up right in his bed in an instant. His hands traced over the new found scars, you watched him in silence. There was something about him, about his vibe that was different. It wasn't the fact that he was an angel, no, even though that made his vibe different too, but it was something soft, something afraid to break. You cleared your throat loudly and Adam's eyes were on you within a heartbeat, while mistrust still lingered heavy in them, curiosity was close behind and you couldn't help but catch yourself that you were curious about him too.

Adam always bragged about being the first man, like that was his biggest accomplishment and if you looked at it from a different viewpoint it wasn't even his accomplishment but God’s, Adam didn't create himself after all. Yet it was the only thing worth mentioning whenever he didn't want to do something, “I’m the fucking man, not your fucking housewife, I'm not gonna fucking clean that.” You sighed as you took a step towards Adam and he flinched, trying to back up but his back hit the kitchen counter sooner than expected. Your hands grabbed a hold of his waist and you effortlessly lifted him up to sit on said counter, Adam was taken aback by that.

It had been a couple of weeks since you had found and saved him and the mistrust that had been filling his eyes from the first second on had never truly left them. He would always leash out on you only to back down as soon as you reacted in some way that seemed too unpredictable for him. “When will you learn to think before you speak?” Your voice held a certain amount of softness, it always did when you were speaking to Adam. The guy wasn't a threat to you, not in his current situation. And you were trying to use that to your advantage. Because he was scared, basically a deer in the headlights, why not put that fear to use? You nudged his knees apart to stand between his legs, still taller than him you hovered over the first man with a mix between a sly grin and a soft smile. “When you start to suck my fucking dick,” you chuckled as his choice of words, very aware that he simply wanted you to fuck off and leave him be, you acted oblivious to that. One hand was placed on the counter to steady yourself, right next to his thigh, the other grabbed his chin to tilt his head upwards, forcing the brunette to look you in the eyes.

“Right now? Right here?” your voice sounded so delicious, Adam wanted to eat it up, in fact, he wanted to devour you entirely, feast on every piece you had to offer and only stop once he swallowed it all. In Christ's holy name, what was he thinking? Your lips were so close to his, so so close, all he would need to do was - he leaned into your touch, why he wasn't sure, it was as if his body was following a call sent to him by nature itself. And then his lips met yours and a low groan spilled from his throat as his hands grabbed your shoulder firmly, he was afraid you'd pull back, that you'd leave him like Lilith and Eve had and he didn't even know why. Why was he afraid of losing you, a sinner, a man he barely knew? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. And yet he kissed you like his life was depending on it.

The hand that had been braced against the counter was now on his thigh, squeezing the soft flesh playfully and drawing a delicious sound from Adam's lips. Oh you could drown in the noises the first man made, the little huffs and puffs, his groans that he tried to keep as quiet as possible, the whimpers he would later deny. Adam was the most beautiful creature that had ever set a foot into hell and you mentally punched yourself in the face for wanting to use him to make money. There was no way you'd use such a divine, holy and glorious man for that, no. Adam was yours, your little secret and you'd keep it, keep him.

When you two partened a sting of saliva connected your lips and both of your eyes were hazy, he looked blissed out and it was then that you decided you wanted to see him like that more often - as often as possible. You were to lean in yet again, wanting more, needing more. But your phone rang. “Pick it up, bet it's something fucking important, they don't fucking call overlords for shits and giggles, do they?” You knew Adam was right and you hated it. You pushed your body away from the first man's and you saw how he wanted to reach out, wanted to keep you close but didn't say a thing about it. You grabbed your phone off the dining table and answered the call, “The fuck do you want, Vox?” It was the first time Adam had heard you speaking so vulgarly, you usually seemed to be collected, considering your words wisely, but that? In the name of God, that was truly something else. And it was ridiculously hot. “No I fucking can't, ask someone else,” and with that you hung up, tossed your phone carelessly back onto the table and found your place between his legs yet again. “Where were we?” you hummed through hooded eyes. And it was only then that the two of you seemed to realize what exactly you had just done, what you were about to do again.

Both of your eyes widened and the next thing you felt were Adam's hands on your body, not just your shoulder this time but also your waist, your chest, your thighs, your back. It seemed as if he was claiming you with his hands and the worst part of it? You truly didn't mind, you even enjoyed his touch on you, leaned into it and closed your eyes to fully focus on his hands roaming over your body.

Fuck, you had fallen deep for this man, way deeper than you ever thought you'd fall. But Adam had followed you, had fallen with you.

“You were about to suck me off,” Adam mumbled, his voice already sounded fucked out and you hadn't even started yet.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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chiara-hotel · 2 months

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𝖂𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖙 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖑 𝕭𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖓 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘/𝖔

Yes, you work there. You could either work as the chef for mealtime or even a greeter whenever people come in to visit! Your s/o appreciates the help you give them while in the hotel.

Characters: Charlie & Vaggie

Yes, you are a guest. Along with your s/o, you attend the hotel to try to save your soul and go to heaven. While being there yourself you also want to help your s/o get into heaven so you both can meetup there.

Characters: Alastor, Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Egg Bois

Yes, because you are forced to. Either your s/o is staying there and you love them so much you followed them, or your tied on a leash by a demon and can’t escape the chains.

Characters: Alastor (who owns readers soul) & Husk

Yes, as a spy. Your s/o sent you to go spy on the hotel under a disguise that you are a poor sinner wanting to redeem themselves. How far you take the act is your decision although you report to them every day on the progress. Why they sent you varies if they wanted intel on the people staying there or just wanted to checkout the place under your name.

Characters: Vox, Velvet, Carmilla, Adam

No, although you have visited in the past for various reasons! For your own curiosity or maybe even your partners curiosity, even so Charlie welcomes your visit with open arms.

Characters: Lucifer, Carmilla, Rosie

No, you have heard of the hotel existing although you have no intention of changing any morals of yours. Even your s/o thinks the idea is fairly ridiculous.

Characters: Vox, Val, Velvet, Adam, Zestial

No, you have or have not heard about the hotel, although you live in heaven so you are unable to attend anyway.

Characters: Sarah, Emily, Lute, Peter, Molly, Adam

#hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #vox x reader #angel dust x reader #velvet x reader #rosie x reader #husk x reader #adam x reader #emily x reader #carmilla x reader

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sugoi-writes · 29 days

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Scream Machine - Part 3 (An Alastor x Reader fanfic)

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this part! I was really tossed up on whether or not to have smut in this part... I decided no smut on this part. Can't rush to the good part! The next should be VERY very steamy, though! This is a strictly - plot heavy part. Haha

No major warnings! Please enjoy!

True to his word, Alastor had sent help your way. A chaste knock came to your door, and you opened it to a small horde of black and white minions, inky and oblong. The stitches that held their forms together were groteque, hardly holding the poor bastards together as you saw frays and tears... It appeared these were sinners bound to Alastor's whim. And Alastor seems to work them nearly to their second deaths. You shuddered but gave them a courteous smile as you allowed the entities inside. Wordlessly, they started to collect your belongings, you having neatly prepared them.

" I uhh-- I have a cab? I don't know if y'all can understand me, but we can load everything up when it gets here--" You jumped as a static, shrill sound erupted from behind you, followed by a low, monotone hum. The sound reminded you of a lightsaber, making you hopeful that this was something benevolent (silly, maybe, but a sinner could dream). Slowly, you turn towards the sound, only to be met by a gold-rimmed portal. Your eyes were wide with disbelief, as the ominous steps of the Hazbin Hotel looked back at you from the other side.

"Oh-- well, I guess-- I guess this is fine?" You were a little nervous, unsure if this portal was Alastor's doing, or someone else's. The gold immediately made you think of the Morningstars, but you weren't sure if that should be comforting or terrifying. Continuing in silence, Alastor's henchman began heaving your things through the portal. You were relieved, mentally… Had you had all of your belongings from Earth, this process would have taken MUCH longer; especially if you were by yourself. You helped with the little bits that were left over, stepping cautiously through the portal with your final piece of luggage. Once you set yourself on the steps of the hotel, the golden portal closed behind you. You swallowed hoarsely, nerves wavering as you started to ascend. Was this truly a good idea? And was your decision... rushed?

The money? A heavenly perk. A free place to live, with free amenities and services? Excellent! But… the man holding the other end of the chain… Alastor. That was the only catch to this whole arrangement...

How would he treat this situation, based off of your tryst in the alleyway, just hours before? Should you pretend that it never happened? Should you be expecting more of the 'unexpected' from him? Should you have so hastily agreed to come to this place?

Your mind was racing with possibilities and dismay as the doors to the hotel slammed open. You narrowly missed the golden bellhop's cart as it came barreling down the stairs, carrying two riled up passengers. Once at rock bottom, you saw a tall, vivacious spider demon and a petite, spunky cyclops demon. As both dusted themselves off, they laughed breathlessly, wiping tears from their eyes.

"Fuck, you should've-- you should've seen the look on your face, Ange!" came the smaller one, one that you had realized to be upcoming heavy-hitter: Cherry Bomb. Her partner in crime elbowed her playfully, adjusting his clothes and hair," Watch it, sugar tits! Your heart almost fell right outta your ass when we ran over--"

And suddenly, the pair had noticed you, shakily picking yourself up as you groaned. Angel fretted, his hands fanning the air frivolously before coming to your side," Shit-- sorry, sweetheart. Here-- I gotcha." You nodded, taking the help as you were hoisted to your feet. Cherry seemed practically unphased, looking to her nails before back at you," You alright, squirt?"

You felt your face heat up, convinced that you were most likely older than she was," I-I'm fine, thanks… I assume you two are here for me?" Angel laughs, patting you on the back," Yeaaaaaah, sorry 'bout that. We got told by Boss Lady that we had a sudden new recruit. Welcome aboard, toots." Uncharacteristically, the spider demon extends a hand towards you, winking," 'names Angel. I'm assuming you've got one?" You took his hand, a gesture that made your confidence come back, smiling broadly as you shook it. After all you heard about this pornstar, he was… surprisingly courteous? Not that pornstars tended to be assholes, but you hadn't expected to be welcomed to a place in Hell so… normally? Warmly?

Angel repeats the name back to you once you say it, nodding resolutely," The babe back there is my friend, Cherry. We'll help you get your bags upstairs and to your room." You bow your head towards the two, grateful that it wouldn't just be you and the wordless lackies," Thank you. 'Much appreciated. And, good to meet you. I've got to admit, you're the nicest people I've met here so far… This hotel must really be something." Angel cackles, the slap to your back stinging sharply as Cherry laughs right along with him.

" Oh shit-- if you think we're nice, wait until you meet The Pants. She's like-- like THE Disney princess!" Cherry nods hastily, adding," Right? Practically a nut case from how nice she is… But hey: she'll keep a good eye out for ya. I should know." You get the sense that Cherry would have winked, but that would prove difficult for her. You snorted, trying not to laugh at the blatant joke.

"Gotcha, gotcha… good to know that the rumors about her are true…" You followed the pair up the full flight of stairs, a more eager pep in you step as you took in the interior of the lobby. Your eyes blew widely as you took in the extravagant decor, blinking as the lights of the elegant chandelier twinkled in your eyes. So, this would be your new home? It was certainly lavish… something you were a-okay with. You soon took note of the bar, nodding towards it," Y'all have a bar? Nice! I'll have to get a drink soon--"

The anthropomorphic cat demon, the barkeep, made you take pause, causing you to squint," Wait-- Husk? Oh, Husk! You were the Bari-sax, right? I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to thank you for having me in your ensemble tonight!"

You started to make your way over towards the feline demon, his eyes momentarily coming up to look to you. He nodded towards you, tilting his head shortly after," Yeah, you're that kid from the speakeasy, right?" …why must everyone refer to you as a child? You mental strife was cut short by the seemingly nonchalant bartender.

"You' here for this redemption-shenanigans, too?" he drawled, leaning on the countertop as he nursed a half empty bottle of spirits. You winced, eyelid twitching," Actually, uhh… I guess I work here, now? I was hired on for entertainment, so I guess we'll be seeing each other around more." Husk's ears pinned back, eyes widening as his voice dropped impossibly low," …please tell me you were hired by Charlie. Charlie's lady friend?" Before you could speak, a familiar shadow figure appeared to your right.

"Actually, I had scouted this darling jazz player myself!" Your shoulders tensed as Alastor rested a hand there, your face instantly becoming heated from the touch.

" Husker! Surely you've met my new friend here, hmm?" Husk's eyes sharpen, a clear sadness written across his face," Not much yet, nah… I should've guessed you'd've gotten to them first," he nearly spat, disappointment flashing your way. You had little room for rebuttal as Alastor's grin grew larger, leaning in towards the two of you. The Radio Demon was positively teeming with excited, demented energy. For now, he decided to let Husk's tone go, turning his attention back towards you. Husk did not miss the wicked glint in his owner's eyes, warning him gravely about his misstep silently.

"Dear, was your trip over quite alright? Let me tell you, getting the King of Hell to conjure that portal was no easy feat~" Angel Dust and Cherry looked to one another as Alastor rambled, sending you a questioning look before they continued their way down the hall. Presumably, they were heading towards your room. You didn't mind, waving them goodbye silently as they continued. Not wanting to get off to a rocky start, you refocused your attention to the curious Radio Demon.

"It was helpful, thank you. Moving was a piece of cake. Are uhh-- are your little guys alright? That was a lot of stuff to move--" Alastor pulls you into his side, his arm looped around your shoulder. You blinked, and the henchman all vaporized, disappearing," NONSENSE, dear! They've been subjected to much worse horrors than that, I can assure you! Don't worry your pretty little head about such menial things~" You were given an uncharacteristically warm pat on the head… again, like a child. A part of your felt a tinge of disappointment, worried that the alleyway must have really been a one-off situation.

"R-Right… well, thank you, nonetheless. I assume that I should follow those two to find my room? And tour will come once I'm settled in?" Husk rolled his eyes as Alastor laughed, his frequency filled with the delight of a live studio audience," Heavens, no! We must show you around the rest of the hotel first! After all, we wouldn't want you stuck in you room all night with no idea where to go!" You felt Alastor nudge you with his cane, ushering you to walk with him as he began your tour. Husk couldn't help the look of worry he sent your way, as you waved to him apologetically. Surely, you'd have plenty of time to catch up with him later, right? …Right?

---

Twenty minutes had passed, before Charlie and Vaggie came through the front doors, carrying groceries and other items for this evening's dinner," Oh, shit!!! That took so much longer than I thought! They should be here by now!" Charlie panicked, running a pale hand through her long locks.

Vaggie looks towards the bar to the snoozing feline, knocking on the counter aggressively," Hey!! Did you see the new sinner come in recently?" Husk woke up with a start, nearly knocking an empty bottle off the counter," Uhhgh… yeah, I did. You can thank Alastor for the 'grand tour'… he's already makin' off with them down the hall…" Vaggie seemed to become nervous, trudging towards the direction you were last seen. Charlie is quick to stop her, holding her firmly by the shoulders.

"Babe, we need to find the newcomer. There's no telling what sort of bullshit and terror he's showing them right now. What if he tries roping them into some twisted deal--???"

"Relax, Vaggie! This is one of the first times he's taken an interest in helping one-on-one! Plus, he was the one that recruited them! This is a good step in the right direction for him!" Chalie proudly brings a hand to her heart, sighing dreamily as she looks down the hallway," The hotel may finally be growing on him… He hasn't given a tour since Dad came to the Hotel. Surely this is a good thing! We have to trust that Alastor will show and tell them all the nice, important things! And we can always go find them later, when dinner is ready. And be supportive, if they have a lot of questions."

Vaggie, ever a softy for her love, becomes smitten by her positivity. She takes her hand chastely in her own, nodding," Alright… in that case, let's at least be sure that dinner is perfect. Just in case."

Charlie's eyes well up with exaggerated, animated tears, as if she were fresh from a Ghibli film. Soon after, the lovers leave together to tend to the dinner prep, as Husk returns his throbbing head to the countertop.

By this point, you had been to most every floor but your own, assuming that Alastor's abode wouldn't be too far behind. You look Alastor's way, scratching the back of your neck," Sooo… This is… This is a really nice place. Thank you for having me here and paying me… and all." Alastor tilts his head, quirking a thin brow your way," Oh, don't thank me just yet! You will still have to earn your keep, after all!" You huff, a bit of the nervous energy rolling off your chest. If it came down to blowing the house down, you were confident you could do that," Of course… wouldn't want it any other way."

As the two of you rounded the corner, you were met with a long, expansive corridor. On either end, there sat two opposing rooms: one door was made from a heavy metal, with an "On Air" sign hovering just above. You assumed this to be Alastor's room. At the other end, you saw a finely carved mahogany door, adorned with ornate flourishes of red and gold. Surely, Lucifer's. You looked back towards Alastor, laughing nervously," Aha… I guess you two must be close, huh? You and the Big-Man-Downstairs…?" Somehow, you thought that the Radio Demon being buddy-buddy with Lucifer would be troubling. Say or do one wrong thing, and you'd have the full wrath of the nine hells down your gullet. Alastor scowls, shaking his head despite his wide, misleading smile.

"Oh, Hells no! We couldn't be more opposed, I'm afraid. However, we agree in one front, and one alone." He looks towards you, a somewhat proud look in his eye," This hotel; his Hazbin Hotel that Ms. Charlie has spawned. Though I believe the path to redemption to be a perilous one, IMPOSSIBLE at best… She has very fascinating ideas. Ideas that keep me entertained, and her father proud... ideas that we can't help but want to make happen." Alastor looks towards his studio," And, one that we all seem to gain from, all the same. So... we have a sort of ceasefire in place, in the meantime." He offers you an arm, brows raising earnestly.

"But, before I get too carried away… shall I show you to your quarters?" You blink in surprise, looking around," Am… am I on this floor, too?" Alastor's grin is telling, mischievous and wide. "You did request to have your room close to mine, did you not?" You felt your heart squeeze at the realization. Maybe he did take you, and what the two of you did earlier, seriously. You decided to take his arm, allowing him to walk you towards his end of the hallway," Well, I appreciate you taking that into account. I hope you didn't have to pull too many strings to make that happen." Alastor chuckles, rolling his eyes.

"Oh hardly; it was easy enough! But I did pull a leg or two. Lucifer's, specifically. You would be surprised how easy it is to trip the King of the Hells down a flight of stairs~" Your eyes widened, your face aghast," I-Is he alright?"

Alastor's laugh nearly makes him double over, free hand clutching his sides," Oh, you sweet, precious thing! Lucifer has wings… he only tumbled down the first 5 steps~" You smiled genuinely as Alastor put himself into stitches at his own childish behavior," Oh, but the goose egg that swelled on his head! Now THAT was priceless! Classic entertainment!"

You wiggled your brows up at him, waving to get his attention," You know, make him fall down an extra 661 steps… and I hear he'd end up in DOUBLE hell…"

The two of you looked at each other silently for a moment, before laughing in unison. Alastor was quick to squeeze you closer to him, making your heart flutter in your chest. You had found yourself clever. Alastor simply found Lucifer's pain and bodily torment hilarious.

"Now see, I KNEW you'd be the PERFECT addition to this hotel! I hadn't known you took up comedy, too!" You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliments and goading, your head feeling light as you both finally appeared before your new room. You tried brushing his comments off, but they made your heart flutter all the same...

Just as you were going to reach for the knob, Alastor released your arm, allowing you to take the initiative. Once you had opened the door, you were surprised to see everything already inside, your room lightly furnished," Wow… Angel and Cherry work fast. Either that, or time flies when you're having fun." You look back towards Alastor again, spinning to face him fully.

"I just-- Thank you again for the opportunity, and the tour. I really appreciate everything you've done to get me here." Alastor's smile seems to soften a touch, eyes lidding," Don't fret, dear. Anyone who is a friend of mine is a friend to this hotel. You would have been welcome here, regardless of our little arrangement." Your eyes widened at that, your head tilting," Despite… our arrangement?" Alastor nods, gesturing towards your door. The word 'friend' was most definitely used, but you had yearned for something more... endearing. Your slight disappointment was cut off as Alastor spoke once more.

"Before I leave you to your bidding… may I enter? I'd like to further discuss what we agreed upon." You felt your heartbeat quicken, your palms becoming sweaty as you hesitated. Oh boy… here comes the business; the transactional part of things. And oddly enough, you felt a familiar heat travel south... the two of you, secluded and alone? This could become interesting for both of you...

"O-Of course… come on in." You stepped away from the door, allowing your newfound patron to enter to your room. You didn't even notice his shadow slinking up the door, locking it from the inside.

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfic #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #radio demon hazbin hotel #radio demon x reader #gn!reader #ahaha sorry for no smut but some WILL come soon I SWEAR #for all of you that are invested: here comes thirds!!!

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