#Dirty Work at the Crossroads

[thepointofclicking]

Dirty Work At The Crossroads #1 Comic Review

[thesplintering]

No Sleep Press’s “Dirty Work at the Crossroads” Concludes on Indiegogo

No Sleep Press’s “Dirty Work at the Crossroads” Concludes on Indiegogo | #comics #scifi #indiecomics #art #comicbooks

[slytherinslut0]

MATHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Thirty--info:-You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, SMUT, PIV, Oral Sex (f rec), Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Praise Kink, Degradation, Morning Sex, Love-Making, ANGST! FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF.

Find the rest of the chapters HERE.

In the depths of the night, your dreams unfurled a complex tapestry of fears and uncertainties. The lucid scenes played out like a haunting ballet, shadows weaving intricate patterns on the canvas of your subconscious.

In the dream, Dumbledore's venerable voice resonated with a gravity that bespoke both wisdom and disappointment.

"You must confront your challenges…your fears, young witch," he intoned, his eyes reflecting not just understanding but a palpable disappointment, a profound sorrow in his gaze as the conversation switched, growing more grave. "I regret to inform you that there are no positions available for you. Not after your unprofessional behaviour.”

Flashes of disappointment intensified, drowning your lungs in its depth, Dumbledore's scrutiny cutting through the facades you had worked so hard to carefully construct for all those bloody months. Before you could process it, the dream seamlessly transitioned to a poignant future, your long-anticipated graduation day, where joy was now eclipsed by an unspoken sorrow.

Mattheo, a figure of proud accomplishment tainted by the weight of disappointment, stood before you. In this dream, your fingers intertwined for a final embrace, the unspoken acknowledgment of paths diverging echoing with heartbreak. The whispered goodbye carried the burden of reality, the truth of life pulling you apart, and a palpable pain radiated from Mattheo, his eyes mirroring the depth of his hurt.

And despite all of these emotions, in the dream, you struggled to admit the true extent of your pain. The reluctance to acknowledge the wounds, the fear that this love might crumble under the weight of your mistakes, lingered in the subtext. The dream became a harrowing journey through the corridors of vulnerability, where the echoes of disappointment and heartbreak were met with an internal struggle to confront and heal.

You found yourself standing at a crossroads, torn between the desire to fully embrace your love for this man, and the paralyzing fear of the inevitable heartbreak that loomed on the horizon, a shadow you knew was yet to follow.

As you jolted awake, the tendrils of the dream still lingering, you found yourself face to face with a peacefully sleeping Mattheo. The room unfolded around you with hushed tranquility--the black lake just beyond the window mirrored the early morning light, its rippling reflections casting intricate soft shadows across Mattheo's peaceful face. The dim lighting in the room whispered of the approaching dawn, a delicate glow that hinted at the promise of a new day.

His arms were securely wrapped around you, one hugging your waist, the other under your head--creating a cocoon of protective solace. His long lashes rested gently against his cheeks, and a cascade of messy curls adorned his forehead, adding a touch of vulnerability to his slumbering form.

Feeling the sting of your dream still lingering, you wiggled in his embrace, snuggling in closer to him.

The air held a serene stillness, interrupted only by the rhythmic cadence of Mattheo's breathing. The juxtaposition of the dream's emotional turbulence and the peaceful reality of the waking world blurred briefly as you took in the details--the soft hues of the room, the play of shadows on Mattheo's features, and the subtle acknowledgment of the early morning hour--all of them calming your anxiety within seconds.

Mattheo's lids fluttered open softly at your movements, his eyes dazed as he blinked away the remnants of sleep. His chocolate pools, catching the morning light, held a timeless warmth as they met yours. A gentle hum escaped his lips, and he inhaled a sharp breath as he instinctively pulled you closer.

"What's the matter, Raven?" Mattheo murmured, his lids fluttering back closed in a languid motion.

The deep rasp of his voice, raw with the remnants of sleep, sparked a warmth within you, like a comforting ember glowing softly. His words, spoken with a blend of curiosity and a touch of husky vulnerability, lingered in the quiet morning air, igniting tingles on your skin.

One of his hands, calloused and tender, glided lower to rest on your hip, the connection between you deepening as your legs became entangled in the quiet intimacy of the morning.

"Sorry for waking you," you whispered, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. His hand, seemingly on a mindless journey, slithered around to rest gently on your lower back now. "It was just a bad dream."

"Who hurt you?" Mattheo mumbled in a groggy, raspy tone, his lids still resting closed. A completely serious expression adorned his face as he added, "give me a name and I'll strip the skin from their bones."

"Someone's definitely not a morning person," you quipped, a groggy chuckle seeping into his neck. A comforting warmth enveloped you as you teased, "Waking up ready for a battle, huh?"

He shifted, molding himself against you, and it was in that moment that you became aware of him, entirely--the firm press of his desire throbbing against your torso.

"Mm...I've certainly woken up with a fight in mind," Mattheo groggily purred, a trace of arrogance lingering in his tone. "But maybe not the one you're thinking about."

"Shit..." your thighs quivered, seeking friction, and with a sleepy smirk, you added, "no fight necessary, Matty...I was disarmed the second I heard that sexy morning voice of yours."

Mattheo's hand slipped lower, finding your ass and giving it a playful squeeze, his grip growing firmer with each passing moment. A husky groan escaped him as he throbbed against you, plush lips pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

"Not like you to surrender so easily," he teased, a shiver of anticipation dancing along your spine as he demanded, "tell me about the dream first."

You shifted, your hand tracing a deliberate path along the strong contours of his arm. With a tender yet purposeful motion, your fingers wove into his hair, entangling themselves in his tousled curls. His lashes responded like delicate butterflies, fluttering in rhythm with the shallow bursts of his chest as you tugged gently.

"It was nothing," your voice, a soft murmur, attempted to dismiss the weight of the dream. Coaxingly, your lips pressed kisses against his neck, their warmth acting as a soothing balm against his skin. "Just a stupid thing."

Your gentle murmur aimed to dissolve the tension, encouraging him to release the probing question that lingered in the tranquil, dawn-lit room, but of course, your efforts would prove futile.

"Clearly, it wasn't nothing." Mattheo's nails dug into the skin of your backside, his grip tightening with a fervor that bespoke an intense need. His body turned relentless, an urgency in his touch as if he needed you more than the very air he breathed. "If you don't tell me in five seconds, I'll deny you orgasms until you're in fucking tears, understand?"

Torn between a desire not to sound vulnerable and a plea for mercy, you instinctively tightened your grip on his hair. Your body flooded with warmth as you burrowed your head further against his neck, hiding your face from his view.

"It was about the future...about us," your voice was low, nearly inaudible. There was a long, silent pause before you spoke again. "I just...what do you want out of life after grad, Matty?"

In a sudden, swift movement, he flipped you onto your back. His strong fingers wrapped around both your wrists, holding them captive as he climbed over you. The weight of his body pressed against yours overwhelmed you with a clamouring lust, an undeniable force that spoke of desire and possession.

"What do I want?" he whispered, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that left little room for evasion. "Hm..."

Seemingly lost in thought, Mattheo leaned in, pressing slow, deliberate kisses against your cheek, a trail of warmth that heightened the tension between your bodies. His grip on your wrists tightened, a subtle yet commanding restraint as the proof of his desire pressed against your pelvis, fuelling flames that danced between your naked bodies.

"You know what I want, Raven?" As Mattheo mumbled against your neck, his curls gently tickling your cheek, your heart leapt with each syllable, your lids fluttering shut as you drowned beneath his warmth. "I want you to stop worrying so fucking much..."

Mattheo released your wrists, one hand finding purchase next to your head as the other threaded through your hair, softly soothing your scalp. Heat blossomed, blazing between your bodies as skin skimmed skin, and you writhed, wrapping your arms around him.

"I want you to stop doubting us....doubting me..." he mouthed wet, warm kisses at your throat. "But what I want...most of all...is just to be with you."

"But," you blushed, thighs buzzing with need. "What if we can't?"

Nipping your ear, he moved lower, hand leaving your hair to skate over your side, painting pleasure with his calloused palm as he went. He suckled at your clavicle, tracing a line to your sternum with his tongue--you whimpered.

"Then we'll find a way." He murmured, his breath washing warm over your skin. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

Gripping your backside, he burned kisses between your breasts, briefly acknowledging them with a nuzzle before continuing--his mouth was tender and deliberate, as if you were parchment, as if you would tear under his touch. Amidst the caresses, a realization echoed within you--this man, once seemingly distant, had transformed before your eyes. The disbelief lingered, weaving through your internal thoughts as you grappled with the profound shift. His unwavering commitment, the assurance that he wasn't going anywhere, left you in uncharted emotional territory.

The conflicting currents of vulnerability and safety created a storm within. You still found yourself marvelling at how this man who was hardly a mere acquaintance at the beginning of the year, had now become a source of comfort, a haven within the unpredictable sea of emotions. It was a sensation wholly unfamiliar, yet undeniably welcomed--a delicate dance between disbelief and the profound realization that, in Mattheo's embrace, you had found a sanctuary, a place to be unapologetically yourself.

Tears brimmed, bliss buzzing. "Mattheo..."

Abruptly, he pulled back, his hand shifting from your backside and darting up to grip your jaw, his touch commanding yet tender. He met your eyes with an intensity that held a hint of vulnerability, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek.

"Do you understand me?" he asked, his voice a low, raspy murmur. His grip sought assurance, and he implored, "tell me you understand."

Your heart thundered. "It's just...we've said goodbye so many times before-"

Mattheo cut you off with a fervent shake of his head, his thumb continuing its gentle caress on your cheek.

"No more goodbyes, Raven," he declared, his voice resolute yet carrying a touch of tenderness. "We're not playing that game anymore--you think I could ever do this again? You think I could ever find another as maddeningly perfect as you are?..."

he paused, searching your eyes for a moment, before he finally whispered; "You have me...you're safe."

Your heart melted, and with that, he dipped low, his lips capturing yours in an instant. Out of pure joy, you sighed, surrendering to the warmth of the kiss, your eyelids fluttering closed, fingers delving deep into his hair.

A soft grunt escaped him, the kiss deepening, and he shifted his hand to cradle your head, pulling you closer. A contented whine escaped you, ecstasy radiating in your chest. In his embrace, you let go of tension, allowing the remnants of fear to disintegrate. You found solace in the trust that he would keep you safe, that you two would undoubtedly find a way to make things work.

"Nothing can change that," he mumbled against your lips, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks before he broke away again, kissing a steady path back down your neck. "I need you to get that through this beautiful, stubborn little head of yours."

A soft, breathy chuckle escaped you, your fingers slipping from his hair to gently trace mindless patterns on his back.

"Alright, alright," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "I'll work on getting that through my 'beautiful, stubborn little head’...but only if you promise to keep reminding me."

Mattheo's lips continued their journey, a purposeful exploration down your chest. Each kiss marked a steady descent, and as he ventured lower, the subtle tensing of his muscles hinted at the strength restrained beneath his touch. His messy curls framed his face like an untamed halo, and he pressed further with a playful smirk, an amused huff escaping him against your skin.

"Reminding you is the minimum," he replied, his voice carrying a promise wrapped in a husky tone. "I'll fucking drill it into your bones, princess--you're mine, I'm yours. Say it."

Your breath caught at the intensity in his words, and a shiver ran down your spine. Meeting his eyes, a mix of desire and vulnerability, you whispered, "I'm yours, Mattheo. And you're mine."

With a gentle hum, he trailed kisses over the curve of your belly, descending to the intimate swell between your thighs. Settling between your legs, his lips tenderly caressed your thighs, eliciting delightful squirms as waves of pleasure surged through your nerves.

"That's right, baby..." he cooed, kissing inward toward the crease of your thigh. "You will always be my first, last, and only love."

With a deliberate touch, he pressed his lips to your pussy, tentative at first, grazing once, twice, before lavishing it with a deep, voracious kiss. Your cry echoed in the room as his strong tongue slid through your slit, exploring your tender folds, a soft groan resonating in his chest. Mattheo maintained eye contact, locking his gaze with yours while he lavished your sex with his mouth. Blinking, you struggled to clear the foggy haze of nearly-untamed emotions that threatened to spill out, his words echoing in your mind like a tempest.

Your fingers curled in his hair. "Oh, fuck..."

You gasped for air, feeling the oxygen drain from the room. Tightening your grip on his head, your hips involuntarily twitched beneath him, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless. Dizziness washed over you--the heady blend of infatuation and the surging pleasure left you gasping, bucking in the throes of desire. Cravings surged within, a hunger for more, a yearning for him that still caught you by surprise, even after all of this time.

"What else worries you," he murmured into your cunt, his warm breath turning the blood in your veins to pure magma. "What else are you afraid of."

A muted cry escaped your lips, and you swallowed against a tightening throat--Mattheo's kisses delicately navigated your slit, as though tending to the intangible wounds forged in the ebb and flow of your complex, on-and-off sexual intimacy over the past few months. Surprisingly, words flowed with ease, a spontaneous revelation of your soul, unshackled by the torrent of bliss coursing through your senses.

"I...I'm afraid..." you gasped, your eyes squeezing shut, your breath hitching as his murmurs sent shudders through your limbs. "Afraid of losing myself in this, in you," another gasp escaped, "and of not being able to find my way back."

Mattheo purred in praise, urging you to keep going, delving his tongue in between your folds, his tongue wet and strong as it slipped through your slit. There was a deliberate avoidance of your clit--which twitched and stiffened in ways it would only do for him--his mouth marking you in memory as he kissed you not only in desire, but in apology. In servitude.

"And the fear of...of needing you more than I should," you admitted through gasps, your vulnerability laid bare. "Of loving you so much that...that I might lose sight of my own path."

Licking lines through you, Mattheo purred again when he reached the top of your cunt, circling your clit with lavish, lingering kisses. You groaned, fingers coiling around his curls, your hips bucking, begging for him, for his release. But he was torturous--drawing his tongue between your slit until his nose grazed your clit, sparking pleasure, a moan catching deep in your throat. Humming with satisfaction, he rolled around it, and air fled you in wanton breaths while you tried in vain to grind onto his face, fighting his hold on you.

"And...ah," you stammered through gasps, your admission laden with a heavy truth, tears brimming in your eyes, promoting you to squeeze them shut. "Most of all...I'm...I'm afraid of losing you."

Finally, finally--he rewarded your patience and flicked your clit with his tongue, swirling it in saliva before taking it between his plush lips. You sobbed, tears spilling free, body thrashed with waves of ecstasy, and Mattheo moaned into you, his mouth hot and soft and working your clit as it throbbed and ached against him.

Laving at you, he sucked, hands stroking up your sides until he reached your breasts, palming at them, thumbs brushing your nipples. Your back arched in bliss, and you jerked his head into you--in response, he battered your nub with his tongue, suckling you faster, chasing your wriggling frame as you gyrated in rhythm, your chin dropping to your chest, body plunged in pleasure.

"Let go for me," Mattheo murmured, his hold on your hips tightening, his shoulders tensing. "I promise I'll catch you."

He drove his face into your cunt, sucking your clit past his teeth, beating it faster, groaning, bathing in your slick. You whined, twitched, moaned, and euphoria exploded over your skin--within seconds, you were erupting, cumming hard onto his tongue, clit pulsing in his lips, walls spasming at his chin. Mattheo sucked in a breath through his nose, swallowing your orgasm, laving you into oversensitivity as he sucked until you twitched in discomfort. When he finally released you; you collapsed, spent, sweat sticking to the sheets, still shivering with tears.

"Such a good girl for me..." Mattheo massaged your thighs, strong, warm grip kneading your buzzing skin--the tenderness in his gaze flushed you with heat, and you began to tremble. "Shh..."

You swallowed, lungs still finding their rhythm. Mattheo's hands moved with a gentle reassurance, caressing up your thighs and over your hips in a rhythmic dance. Simultaneously, his mouth began a wet trail of soft kisses, ascending with each delicate touch up your stomach.

"Your vulnerability is a fucking honour, my pretty girl," his warm breath interweaving with the intimate cadence of his movements. "Don't keep any of that inside, anymore...you can trust me with your fears...your worries..." the comforting strokes continued, a tactile promise as he whispered, "I'm more than willing to take the weight off your shoulders."

His lips found your skin in a tender embrace, and he hummed against your tingling flesh as he added, "I'm with you...I'll help you find your way, just as you helped me find mine..."

Your chest heaved with a mixture of pleasure and vulnerability. As Mattheo's words echoed in the air, you managed to rasp out, "I trust you," each syllable tinged with the raw honesty of your emotions. "I fucking love you."

His touch, both commanding and comforting, sent shivers through your trembling form, and the weight of your fears began to lift, replaced by the reassuring warmth of his presence. Mattheo's gaze held a depth of emotion as he absorbed your words. His hands, still moving with a gentle reassurance, tightened ever so slightly on your skin.

And then, he shifted, collapsing down on the sheets and slipping up beside you, guiding you to turn onto your side, facing away from him, his arms wrapping around your waist, his mouth teasingly ghosting against your ear.

In a husky whisper, he murmured, "I love you too, Raven, but you already knew that...didn't you?"

He was all-encompassing, warm and solid and strong, enfolding you in something you almost believed was invincibility.

You hummed, lids fluttering softly. "Of course I did, Matty.."

"That's right, baby," Mattheo tucked his knees behind yours, shifting your ass so it rested against his hips--like this, you felt his cock flatted between you, throbbing as you tweaked your position. "My beautiful little angel...all I want from life is to wake up like this every fucking morning...with you...wet and needy for me..."

As you whined, squirming against him, Mattheo leaned in, brushing his lips against the skin behind your ear. He trailed kisses and nibbles down your neck, making you dizzy with pleasure, his hands moving to cup your breasts, rubbing his thumbs against your already hard nipples. You let out a soft moan, eyes rolling as you arched your back into his touch.

"You're fucking perfect." The low thunder of his voice melted in your ears, and he murmured your name. "You want me to fuck that pretty pussy, hm?"

Your throat was tight, and instantly, you nodded. "Yes, Matty...please..."

"Mm." He hummed. "That's my good girl."

You shifted your head to the side until Mattheo's lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss, one of his hands moving to guide his throbbing length toward your core, groaning into your mouth as he entered you with an unhurried, deliberate thrust of his hips. The sensation of him filling you slowly, inch by tantalizing inch, elicited a chorus of whimpering and moaning, each one bringing forth a new wave of exquisite pleasure. As the kiss deepened and he skillfully rolled his hips, your body responded instinctively, arching into him, welcoming his intimate touch.

One arm held you securely against his chest, and the other shifted to your hair, the grip of his hand against your head both comforting and soothing, tracing calming strokes along your scalp. A fusion of bodies unfolded, your essence intertwining with his. The synchronized rhythm of your racing hearts echoed the now-openly spoken connection coursing through your veins.

Mattheo broke the kiss, pressing his forehead into yours. "You are the only one for me." He was seated inside of you, offering soft, gentle thrusts. "I knew it the second you saw the darkest parts of me...the fucking hell in my eyes and didn't even blink...when you told me it mirrored your own."

You whimpered, head spinning in a whirlwind of emotion, and he kissed your nose. "You've always been the woman whose words hang in my mind..." another kiss to your jaw. " ...the woman whose face I see before I sleep..." he confessed, snuffing a moan in his throat. " ...the woman who plagues me every moment I'm awake..."

Every single syllable from Mattheo's lips left you in utter disbelief, grappling with the unfathomable reality that had transpired within your life. Once entirely convinced that love was an unattainable concept, a realm you adamantly avoided, you now stood fully-drenched in the depth of a connection with a partner who defied every single living expectation. Mattheo Riddle, a man who should have been everything you steered clear of, turned out to be precisely what your heart craved--a revelation that shook the foundations of your entire understanding.

In the whirlwind of emotions, you found yourself astounded by the depth of this unexpected bond. He saw facets of your being that had remained veiled to others, unraveling layers of your soul with an understanding that transcended imagination. It was then that you realized, some hearts just understood each other, even in silence.

"You're relentless," his lips hovered mere millimetres from your ear as he intensified his pace, his fingers finding your clit. "You're maddeningly fucking beautiful." A forceful jolt from his hips, and you shattered, the pleasure overwhelming. "And you're the most insatiable, fierce little creature I've ever come across. You stirred me up without effort.”

Your voice was a whimper. "Mattheo..."

His embrace tightened around you, anchoring you as he thrust deeply, filling you completely. "Fuck-you're my good fucking slut...all fucking mine..." he groaned your name, sucking at your shoulder, tongue leaving hot lines on your neck. "This tight little cunt only stretches for me...those pretty lips only moan my fucking name..." his fingers whirled your clit. "I'll be dead before I allow that to change."

"Gods-" you choked, eyes squeezed shut, wetness damping your cheeks as you clutched onto his arm, revelling in every single inch that he was giving you, the pleasure from his fingers intoxicating your conscious. "Matt-fuck-oh...."

"Fuck--" a feral kiss bruised your lips, his cock splitting you with deep thrusts. "Such a good fucking slut...my good little cockslut, hm?"

"Yes-" you gasped, his fingers moving quicker. "Yes-yes!"

"That's it..." He muttered your name against your mouth. "Cum for me...let me feel how much you love this cock..." "

"Fuck-" one more breath, one more gasp, blink, moan, and you were there. "Fuck! Mattheo! Oh, Gods..."

Euphoria swept through you like a tempest, unraveling the seams of your sanity, and you shattered, convulsing with the overwhelming intensity of your climax. Your walls spasmed around his dick, milking him hard, and Mattheo held you, groaning and grunting into your mouth as he held off his peak for as long as he could, until it was too much and he surrendered--his lips working over yours as he came deep inside your heat, hips hitting your ass with every rush of rapture.

After what felt like minutes, he stalled, the aftershocks of bliss rippling through your bodies at once while you remained there catching breath, still connected.

Languid and sated, the two of you paused in a state of post-ecstasy bliss, your senses heightened in a way that defied fatigue. Mattheo, positioned behind you, had seemingly recuperated--his withdrawal from your cunt accompanied by a slow, deep guttural groan that reverberated through the aftermath. A sigh of relief escaped him, and you grinned, nestling against the contours of his body, not ready to leave the solace of his warmth.

The press of his lips against your temple held a silent reassurance, a whispered promise of care and comfort in the aftermath of shared passion.

Finally finding your voice, you could hardly articulate your thoughts, but one question lingered on the forefront, slipping past your teeth. "Where the fuck have you been, all this time..."

Mattheo hummed, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, nestling his face into your neck. "On my way here, Raven."

[notjustjavierpena]

Practice Makes Perfect

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: You know I had to. Can you tell I have studied rhetorics at uni?

Summary: You are Mr. Ted Garcia’s political advisor and you help him with practicing his upcoming speech.

Pairing: Ted Garcia x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, oral sex m receiving, strip tease, dirty talk, verbal humiliation, praise kink, come swallowing, face-fucking

Word count: 2.4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54597913

Practice Makes Perfect

“Go over it again,” you order as you are perched on the desk, one leg crossed over the other by the knee and your red-bottom stiletto dangling from your toes. You are gripping the edge of the table, and whereas your position looks downright sinful, the smile on your face sports innocence, “Go on, Mr. Re-elected Mayor.”

Ted whips around to face you, reaching up to loosen the knot on his tie. He smiles, a little uncertain of what to make of you, “You don’t know that yet, sweetheart.”

“I know you won’t win the reelection if you don’t practice,” you shrug your shoulders and then move your hands to lean back on your arms. 

“I’ve gone over it a million times,” he says with a sigh, “Would much rather call it a day and order some food. We haven’t had Chinese in a while, have we?”

“Ted,” you stop him, “I need the speech tomorrow to be absolutely flawless. I’m your advisor; it’ll reflect badly on me if you stumble. Not to mention, I’m a woman so I have to work twice as hard to earn the public’s respect. They probably think you hired me to suck cock. That’s what they’re saying anyway.”

“Didn’t I?” He jokes and steps towards you. 

You glare at him but there’s no malice in it, “I could get you fired for that statement, you know.”

“I should fire you for being so distracting,” he retorts. When he gets close enough, he reaches out to curl a strong hand around your thigh and uncrosses your legs. He steps between them but you shake your head when he tries to lean over you. 

“Go over it again,” you repeat. You lean back a little further until you are able to lift your leg and place your heel on his chest, pushing him backward and away from you. He follows your silent order of staying back but still grabs your ankle hard enough to make you shiver. 

“From the top,” you say to not lose face. 

“And if I don’t, Ms. Advisor?” He challenges. 

“You’ll regret it,” you tease him by sounding almost bored, “Try and see what happens.” 

Ted sighs and lets go of your leg, simultaneously letting go of the idea of getting to fuck you as a way of ending his work day. He moves back to the center of his office, clears his throat, and shakes his arms as if trying to loosen up his tense body, “Right, let’s give it another go.”

You cross your legs again and wait. He is going to have no idea what hits him. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of our beloved city, as I stand before you today, I am filled with hope and optimism for the future of our city…” He begins and his tone is laced with a charm that you know better than to believe. Others, however, will eat it up. 

“Very good, Ted,” you praise when he is a few more lines in. He meets your eyes for approval, a playful smirk on his lips. You wipe it off his face not a moment after, having reached up to unbutton your shirt until it falls open and reveals your lace bra, “Continue.”

Ted’s gaze shamelessly lingers on your chest for a few seconds before he does as he is told. It is so easy, like Pavlov’s dog.

“We stand at a crossroads, where the decisions we make today will shape the trajectory of our city for generations to come,” he speaks with confidence, fuelled by the shirt falling off your shoulders and pooling around you on the desk. He looks deep in thought as he tries to remember the keywords that guide him forward in his speech but when you let a shoe fall to the floor, only to let the other one follow, he looks up to satisfy his curiosity, “And I believe that embracing technology is not just an option, but a necessity if we are to thrive in the 21st century.”

“God, you are killing it, Mr. Garcia,” you are only in your skirt and bra now but the bra won’t stay on for much longer. You reach up behind you to unclasp it but there’s no follow-through. You raise a brow in disapproval, “Well?”

“Fuck, where was I?” He runs a hand through his hair. You don’t blame him for forgetting because he doesn’t seem to have blood in his brain right now; it appears to have gone south where he is tenting in his suit pants. 

“A mayor doesn’t swear,” you tut with a little shake of your head, hand still in a waiting position to expose your tits to him. You decide to help him, “My vision for our city…”

“My vision for our city is one where technology serves as a catalyst for positive change!” His voice is slightly louder than normal as if relief floods him because he knows by now that remembering will get him to see you naked. He straightens, “Where innovation brings economic growth, and where every person has the opportunity to succeed.”

You undo your bra and let the straps fall down your arms until you teasingly drop it onto the floor. Your breasts are exposed to the air conditioning unit sending out cold air in the mayor’s office, immediately causing your nipples to harden at the temperature drop. You let out a teasing moan and jump off the desk to make your tits bounce obscenely, “I wanna hear more, Ted. Please.”

“I— uhh,” his gaze is fixed on your chest.

You place a hand on the skirt’s zipper along your side, teasingly pulling it down along your thigh. It seems to kickstart his memory again, “Where smart infrastructure optimizes traffic flow, reduces energy consumption for a greener future, and - Jesus, baby - and thus enhances public safety. A city where access to high-speed internet and the newest devices is not a luxury, but a fundamental right…”

“God, you are so sexy like this,” you say with a grin, hoping that he catches onto the way your eyes drop to his mouth when he speaks, “Nearly convincing me, baby.”

You start to wiggle your hips to get out of your pencil skirt, causing your whole body to shake as you move the fabric down over your legs. It makes Mayor Candidate Ted Garcia’s whole brain go dumb because he stops reciting his speech altogether and simply admires the way your breasts jump with every movement of your lower body. 

“Did I tell you to stop?” You ask when the skirt lies in the pile with your bra and shoes. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your matching lace panties, “Just a little more.”

“But you’re nearly undressed,” he points out and hits his chest to clear his throat when his voice seems to have gone up an octave. He looks almost pained when you stop any motion to step out of your underwear. 

“Listen, here’s what’s going to happen,” you move to stand in front of him with only inches between the two of you, “You’ll make the rest of the speech I wrote with your sexy, big cock in my mouth, and I won’t make you finish until you’re finished.”

Ted swallows thickly. He nods and tries to be cocky one last time during your relentless teasing, “You sure I didn’t hire you because of your fellatio skills?” 

“Why don’t you use your own tongue instead of worrying about mine and make those little words roll off it?” You bite back, “One more line.” 

“H-however, embracing technology is about a lot more than just improving efficiency,” he tries his best not to stutter too much. Oh, you cannot wait to hear him lose it when you close your lips around his beautiful cock. 

“Mhm, what’s it about then?” You encourage. The panties come off then, pooling around your feet until you kick them to the side. 

“It's also about fostering a culture of innovation and entrepreneurship,” he replies with his eyes between your thighs to watch your throbbing cunt. Despite your cool demeanor, you have never wanted him more than right now, and seeing him desperate and faltering because of something you have done is a feeling out of this world. 

You sink to your knees with a dirty smile, keeping your eyes on him the whole time to watch the satisfying sight of his burning desire corrupting his concentration. You wish to tell him that he is so good today, that he hadn’t lied about going over the speech a million times. 

You settle for showing it instead, undoing the button on his black slacks and then the zipper. He twitches behind the fabric. You are salivating by now, aching between your thighs to taste him on your tongue. You pull out his cock with little effort, grinning mischievously up through your lashes as it springs free and nearly hits your cheek. 

“I’ll start dripping on your floor if you get it right, don’t you want that?” You say it and then start to gather spit in your mouth, preparing yourself for his generous size to slide past your lips. 

“I want that,” he breathes, “Fuck yes, I want that.”

“Then tell me what you envision,” you hint and then you take him into your hot, waiting mouth. He tastes so fucking good, heavy on your tongue as you relax your jaw until he stabs the back of your throat. 

He sucks in a breath as you hollow your cheeks and slowly pull off, only to repeat the move again and again, “I envision our city attracting the brightest minds from around the globe to come—“

You hum around his girth at the choice of word, a giggle bubbling up in your throat. The vibration of your noise makes Ted settle a hand on top of your bobbing head, ready to yank if it becomes too much and he needs release right then and there. He corrects himself professionally but falters once more because you moan at the taste of his precome oozing from the tip, “I mean work together and create the next huge— b-big thing.”

You reach underneath his dick to cup his balls and massage them in your palm, working your lips up and down his shaft simultaneously. You have to breathe deeply through your nose, resulting in your neck muscles tightening slightly while he speaks. 

Ted moans out loud for the first time then, having gone past simply stuttering and swearing. He looks down at you with a slack jaw, and when he stays quiet for just a little too long, you start to pull off. He sounds panicked, yelling out a no. 

“Of course, with great technological advancements come great responsibilities. We must be vigilant in protecting the privacy and security of our citizens,” as soon as he starts again, you go back into it with even more enthusiasm, removing your hand from his balls to reach up and grip his hip. You pull at it to show him what you want, and he breaks the long streak he has had with simply reciting his speech for tomorrow, “You want me to fuck that dirty little mouth? Huh?”

You moan in confirmation, nodding with his cock far down your throat. The eyes you send him have him breathing hard and nodding repeatedly, doing an experimental thrust, “Yeah, that’s what you want. You just wanna please your local elected official, you little slut.” 

He can’t fail now. You furrow your brow up at him, trying to look displeased despite how wet you are right there on the floor. He catches on, tries his best to talk comprehensively whilst sliding wetly and repeatedly past the very tight space at the back of your mouth, “R-right, where was I? Shit, that’s right. That's why I will do everything in my power to implement the correct measures and promote trans - fuuuck - parency.”

You press your thighs together when you hear him moan through the end of his speech. He sounds so sexy that you can’t imagine stopping even if he doesn’t get to the last word, and you whimper around his thick cock to push him closer to the edge. 

It’s the first tear that falls from your eye that has him on the brink but he still powers through, “Together, we can use the power of technology to build a city where innovation knows no bounds, and where the sky is truly the limit.”

You are sure it looks like you’ve pissed yourself with how wet you are by now, a patch having formed underneath your dripping cunt. You move your hips to find some kind of friction but to no avail. Above you, Ted rounds off his speech.

“So I ask you, my fellow citizens - fuck, honey, I’m gonna come… I’m gonna come right in your pretty mouth, ah, ah, a-almost - uhh, to join me on this journey towards a brighter future,” he thrusts his hips even faster at this point, his pitch climbing until he is whining instead of talking. The way you can feel his pulse on your lips lets you know that he isn’t lying, so you allow him to fuck your throat frantically even if it hurts a little, “Let us embrace technology with open arms, and together, we will— we will— shit, we will build a city that we can be proud to call home. Thank you!”

He comes as soon as he has said those last two words, and they become his mantra as he spills down your throat with several twitches of his cock that simply will not stop, “Thank you, oh fuck, thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

You swallow greedily, sucking him completely clean until he shakes his head in oversensitivity and pulls out of your mouth. He tastes like himself and power, enough to get you drunk. 

“You are fucking fantastic,” he groans when tucking himself back into his pants. He crouches down to meet you at eye level, marveling at the way you are practically fucking yourself onto the air, “My sweet girl.”

“Fuck, I need you,” you pant with tear-streaked cheeks. 

“Here’s an idea since I did so well,” he starts, reaching into his pocket to hand you his phone, “How about you call and order us some food and I rub your cute little clit while you do it? Then we’ll see who is the real professional orator here.”

You want to reply but you can barely press the number of his favorite Chinese place and you almost come the second he touches between your thighs. 

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[astralnymphh]

saturated sanctity

tonguefucking raw in the barn, away from dina's eyes ౨ৎ

. part two 𝜗𝜚

❛you had cunt on your mind, 'n cum on your breath❜

PREVIOUS CHAPTER . NEXT CHAPTER > .ᐟ ♡. summary; a chore so innocent and prosaic, far from featherbedding and near to plucking grain from your scalp– turns for the worst, or the best? i soundly connote, fornication ventured on two bends of eager knees, drinking you from beneath the hood 𐙚 .ᐟ ♡. cw; depictions of infidelity, homewrecking, semi-risky sex, jealousy, bit angsty, tension, guilt, pining, tears are shed, playing around, lusting, clit stim (r, fingers and oral), fingering (r), pussy eating (r), scant nipple stim (r), ass groping, ass slapping, breast groping, swallowing slick, pussy slapping, steamy make-out buildup, dirty talk, needy ellie, smug ellie as usual, dom!ellie, sub!reader (i swear sub!ellie is coming next chapter) domestic acts, bold text is flashback dialogue, petnames; babe, baby, good girl (lmk if i missed anything) .ᐟ ♡. pairing; farm!ellie x farmhand!reader .ᐟ ♡. a/n; ending feels a little lazy but it is what it is. hey i'll pull through on ss3 that's like the smut crux, if u get my jizzst..

✵ masterlist ✵ series masterlist ✵ got too lazy 2 proofread right away ✵ WC; 9.8k+

VOLUME TWO - The skin that flakes/ Under the hood

𝄞

Indulgences have the gall to peck at you. 

Pecky and prickly as the oncoming hens do, handwriting–on–the–wall misgivings that throttle you off a steady minute by minute track. Small nuances under light of sun kept doing so this week, numerous things apropos of bawdy suggestions wisped by that reckless pink snake of hers– always mere footsteps from running into Dina, ‘I think it would be, really, reaaally hot if you didn’t wear your p-panties at the table, tonight..’ always brain–caked in a bit of alcohol, hiccuping. Or, even when a cold cuff cocoons the hind of your upper–thigh, an inch below the crease of your butt and done as she passes like a ghost behind you in the kitchen. 

A plum bruise should have formed from how often you flicked that forehead of hers. But no, of course no. The only thing that formed each time was a cocky curl into her lips, corkscrewing those fine hazel freckles connate to a whirlpool in water.

Owing to the fact that she lacked sufficient care from you, has her pouting when you deny her. Denied her of that fiendish wish to lie beside each other– even if it be upon that packed sofa, or– of her vehement dreams, reposing within sniffing distance of an ambery lit fireplace, running her work–worn fingertips along your hill of chest, letting the beat beneath your breast verse in her hands a tale to beckon her own in accordance, toasting aflutter with love. She would push a kind pressure to said breast, emboss prints to squishy skin, mold it to her liking, and smirk when your nipple erects and bends under her hardy palm. 

On the other hand, woe of denial, she sought Dina in your figment. When she wasn't courting twisted fingers up your billowing skirt, she instead smelt her heart in twisting her from the inside out, which– even more woefully, gave Dina the impression that Ellie had come crawling back on starved knees. Woe is her, to misreckon and take what she thought was hers to safekeep.

Arteries, wrenched and awreck, you felt a toy in contrast to what really stood. Worry. 

Worries are the hens, pecking at you.

Will Dina catch you two here? Over there? This night, or the inbound day? Tines of time aren't obligated to tell, ringing of peril whenever they yen a sign to sow.

Thoughts would only continue to foment come light of day.

A lemony sun has risen beyond the hill laden skyline, plucking rays for your wake. Muted orange tones mingle and caper into flaming reds on the crest of your sealed eyelids, caught just as you bid adieu to your cotton sogged dream. For dreams die, at every crossroad.

“Mhh..” the gentlest brush of breath hinders sun washed quietude split, and a set of toes curving down to a stretch. Achy aches ache, as there’s enough ache to go around for farm hands such as you, ugh right? 

Disturbing be the sunlight drawing blinding rays on your bleary pupils, attempting to shade out familiar nooks of your room. Ah, there we go, hues of sable dark in unvisited corners and shyly crowding the light, fluid out of the clear glass pane. As the couch is situated opposite of this blaring window, it greets you quite rudely. 

The moment colors begin to mature and petrify within your vision, you're already hiking up a foot and rocking your bottom off the quaint sofa, veering a peek to the indent left. Slept like a log, huh? Feet plant weight on plods carrying you towards the wardrobe, grantingly aside the wide pearl–border window, flitting a forearm up to block incoming light. 

A huff bloats your cheeks and pouts ducky lips, then grumbling a burden off your shoulders, “Hhhmmmm..” no truer words were spoken.

You lodge fingers in oaken crevices and pull a sundry of drawers from their frame, rubbing cotton on wool as you dig without aim on what you may don, this or that, with which and what, where and when. Blah, yawn, bored, you avert your gaze on lucent glass and scrutinize a pine bough panorama– only for your eyes to spring and espy a sparkle.

A gleam of skin.

And a tuft of copper.

Ellie.

Her torso fit in a white ribbed tank, soaked in hues of gray at the dip cut collar, and handsomely clung to her perky breasts. An arm raises, a graceful length likeness of a canopy above her head, stretching freckled flesh over toned muscles, the grooves– shadowed in a whisper of brown, highlighted celestially, and exposing a small auburn bush beneath her pit. A seen groan escapes her slit gob, brows hefty– she crumples them dear into her eye sockets, ruching the thin skin. Exertion tapered her body akin to clay, and it was undeniably hot, scrunching her face up like that. Ellie then juts her hips forward and casts her head rearward as she stretches, releasing all tension in a swing of her arms down. 

Seems like she's tending to the fore yards.

Dew gleams honey, sweat paints skin, and portrays your girls as a ruddy rose in dashing spring. Ruddy, yeah, that solar ball in the sky sure made her skin popping arid of paleness. Naturally, her freckles betone like pepper, bulging on her red face– which scrunches in her gripe of stress.

Her lips part, mouthing an obvious, ‘Fucking hell.’ and baring teeth after, slightly. Lashes interwoven, her eyes stayed squinted, only to widen and dart when a muffled shout rattles the walls.

Right, fuck, Dina needs me.

Just as the drizzly auburn–head jogs from a peeking view and presumably into the house, you reverse and capsize through stacks of cloth until you land your choice– a sundress. Hey, it's hot today, let your butt breathe for a change. You dangle it by the thin straps prior to pleating up the skirt and slinking it over your crown, yanking every seam in place. Ruffles hit a stonecast above your knee, a sensible length.

But one question stands unturned.

Bra, or no bra?

Hmm.

No bra.

A proper chest of cotton cradles your breasts come rain or shine, not like Dina would mind with brine, nor judge off the heart– just freeing the girls. No biggie. The woven material lollops to a fare–thee–well, cozy on the curve, ribbing as it falls in place. Now, you just need something on your feet. Striding forth, waxing a gale, bare steps soften on each oak board's scant gap, sylvan grain texture grazing your toes. Just a few feet ayond the couch is your shoe cubby, small box frames home to varied work boots and scuffed sneakers, and based on today, you choose boots, clasping the hardy backstays in a pinch. You crouch and gripe at the sore sting your knees gave, manning it through and sliding foot by foot plumb to the squishy sole of your boots, tying up the cordy laces.

Guh, these boots are near rugged.

Ignoring the plain–in–sight fray to your boots’ hemp laces, you grasp and wrench the icy knob ‘round till the door grinds a cry open. Stepping under the arch, you brisk thump by thump and cut where the hallway bends, advancing the dining table.

A dyad of ears harks your growing din of solid steps, calling, “There you are, did'ja sleep like a log?” mellifluous notes of Dina's cadence carries, veering your sight on the kitchen– where she be, perching an oaken honeycomb rack to forearm.

That I did.

“Yuup–” you pirouette, spanning the table's border and hiking that very ridge plane into your butt, sighing, “sun was there to greet me, obnoxiously.” leaning into the table, you grouse lightheardedly.

“Oh shit– sorry ‘bout that, swear I'll put up a–”

“Don't worry, it's the one thing that actually wakes me up these days,” you crack a quip, chuckling with an open mouth.

Dina caters a kind tug on her mauve lips prior to whisking her eyes returned, a glossy honey to be. Syrupy knuckles press and crinkle in the hilt of a honey fork, pruning waxy slices and welling gold bubbles, crafting a drippy stream that canals into a glass bowl. Through laden light it gains a gilded life, casting a tiny star on the moist blob– and there you witness, nectar of the gods.

Capricious minds might have swiped a dollop of that sweet, sweet delicacy by now.

Weighing the silence, you tempt thoughts racing around your skull. What chore am I assigned today? Where is the cacophony of babbles and gurgles that follow Dina like a haunting spirit? Where did Ellie go? Ellie, Ellie, Els.

God did she look breathtaking in that tight–

A rush of thuds divert your curious eyes to the creaking stairs, preluding the swell of said babbles and a husky voice, Ellie's voice. 

“Dina?” hailed she, echoing halfway down the steps, “I changed his diaper!”

Dina cocks her head in heed, crowing back, “Okay! Just– give ‘im to her!” tone knocking against the hollowed walls, then, she sheers attention to you, “mind feeding him?” 

You hum a keen, “Mhm.” void of second qualms and wait on that certain honey–head to appear, hearing the increments of footsteps draw lower and nearer.

The honeylike cowl, stria of fawn auburn drapes soft strands to laze with a purpose on her neck, fashioning that scruffy mullet eyes prize after. Honeykin defines the head that tags after gray, deadbeat converse hop the last few steps and plant still on the oaken floor. For a honey so sinful sought you, and buys a bite of time, to stare.

Her liven pasture eyes catch on you, just a moment, and skip away, reminded of what she intends, “Uh, here.” her forearms unfurl and slink to you, offering JJ up in thankful arms.

You rub in bare flesh to hers, scooping the gurgly baby in a shyer than thankful human cradle, foreheads feckly bumping into each other as you swap, a ghosting of heads. A whaff of her work–spent scent digs into your brain, and you had to admit, it was a tinge sort of lovely. She had the farmyard tang about her, blessed with sweat, a firming physique, a stare that caught you a corpus melting in her esse.

Fairer than the weeks before her touching of you, the bounty it procured was tame, fair is the present. Fairest days, faring a harvest more splendid than dreams carping yonder ebony skies and heavy heads. An unruffled weightlessness many souls find hopes fed in, you found aplenty of in the waking world. With Ellie, you drank laughs, fiddled about the haystacks, snuck apples in your fist– nicking dewey chunks down her gullet in shared kisses, or let her shamelessly tug some of your ass meat in horny hands. Oh, isn't infidelity just the niftiest drug.

Smitten as a kitten, you are.

Carpe diem.

“You’ sleep well?” asked Els in monotone, pitching a paw up to weave through her jumbled locks, splitting strands.

Heaving a breeze, you sigh, “Decent enough, you?” and counter the question, bobbing your stance on bending knees– pray that baby doesn't scream, as always. 

“Like a baby,” she asserts, lush of a brag, dropping her hand and poking at the chubby–cheeked fella, who just got a free mention, “not so much this one, yeahh? Did you scream my ear off all night?” cooing.

“Mhm, heard that.” you add.

“Betcha did.”

“Hmm.”

Her eyes peek up, and goddess, it's that look again. Oh yes, the very gaze spilt upon the oaken table that hale spring day, a twinning star. These eyes, ladies and gentle–non–mens’, fondled a plight of husky play sat on the edge of her mucky mind, and it showed vividly in those flourishing pupils that thin her pine–lined eyes. Tilted smirk dotting dimples in her big appley cheeks, cuspid teeth goring a dint in chapped lips crying with dire need of moisture. Sexy– minus the lips maybe.

She knows what effect that look has.

What exactly sits vanward of that hormone tipsy mind, is an excerpt best served in the formula of two tongues tied– for even Ellie herself may strive to compose hunger incarnate at this fledgling hour of daybreak. And yet she cannot. The mere thought of your pussy clots her brain cells. So, how do we fix that?

Play pretend!

“Hey babe,” that auburnette already had her head whipped south towards Dina before you could flit a blink, feet sparking her a brisk carry yon the shabby oak floor. Creak, creak, clonk, foot by foot she departs a sliver of bitterness in your chest. 

A demure bitter, a sense you can simply shake off. For now.

“There you are..” spoken so softly from Dina, who still had a rack of flaxen honeycomb in her hold, slanting to an angle, “what took ya so long?” voice curling.

“Wasn't that long,” she emphasized her vowels, “m'here now..” 

“Good..” 

She was far from there.

“Mhh,” hummed Ellie, pressing her lips into a thin stroke, puckering about to intone a curly, “ohhh, honey– can I have a lick?”

“Mh–mm, that's for the apples.”

“Aww.”

A meshing of lovers. Real love, virgin love, dying love, feigned love, it all wreathes together on the outside– for the sake of earthly vein, tender were those emotions long ago. Hasty do the doves encircle a budding entanglement, and bells chime where dust remains uncollected on wanton hearts. Uncanny, do the crows crawl in their grandeur of an affection died– sprawling sooty wings through tough gravel and mushy mud, rendering them unable to fly again. Unearth that shit, and you're seated for a whole fuckfest, indeed. 

So consume what you see with a grain of shit–face nothingness.

Ellie slinks a glide upon Dina, pushing her harsher on the counter's nook and slumping arms to swaddle her torso. She cradled her in the natural bow of her body, projection of her bony hips plated dual plumb dimples in her ass, grinding with a purpose. Denim chafes on denim, bringing a light noise of fabricy licks. The cottony hem of her soiled tank begins to bunch with each rolled hump, proving the friction to be– lustful. Her hands wander her body, not yours, pausing and choking the fat plush of her thighs, losing sunny–ruddy pigment to wanting pressure, then releases, and traces back up.

Pupils of yours aimed so pinpoint on each sweep of her hand, yet, you bore an idle set of gestures. Cupping a waxy rubber bottle in your grasp, brimmed with milk opaque of lily–white and feinting a crisp chill to your fingertips, you park the nozzle to the baby's lips. Giving a squeeze with care, you feed him– idly, idly turned from the scene afore, except for your eyes.

Strain sets a pull on them as you stare.

A bitsy wince of, “Ellie..” dries moistness on her lips, shuddering to an ajar gasp.

“Mhm, like that?” husked with a bass that ripples, so, so deep in her diaphragm, you swore it nearly rattled your ears from where you poise.

A gasp died into, “We can't–” 

“But we can..” a frugal answer, meant for one pair of ears only. Only, what a joke. An ill timed joke on Dina.

Had it truly been for one person only, Ellie would not be striking risk right in the butt. Nifty as she is, juggling those risks aimlessly, she stares at you. The crown of her head ruffles up messily on her scruff as it pivots, flushed nose pointed to you, pale lids of supple creases kin to a beach cove as they open, batting reeds of chestnut everlasting. They flap, waiting for you, in the delay of that week–past chance snuffed. 

Intimidating, austere demeanor flowering in those buttony pupils– and she eyefucks you with them, even tugging a wink your way. A fucking wink. Her ploy of fondling Dina, so obscenely, clearly dirty, read in gold typeface as ‘Wish this was you.’ loud and proud. Much more so when her digits curl and dig dents in her waist, and her teeth carve marks as she bites her coral lip down, showing you. 

She's showing you how she wants to play with you.

Being an unwelcome voyeur, you felt the tail–tug to glance away. And in that fleeting veer, a loud smack resounded and left you surprised on the tips of your boots.

“Uh!” a yelp ejects air from its jailed position in Dina's gullet, forwarding her body with a jounce.

A foul, “Hehe–” trebles a giggle from Ellie, shit–eating grin withal, “so sensitive.. again?” her hand rubbing circles to where she struck ass.

Fuck.

Fuck, because she has uttered those exact words to you before, wetly on the shell of your ear, yesterday. At dead noon eve, stark flat on your bedroom door, a makeout you'd rather not divulge. Though, did Dina hear that thumping racket?

You feel a throb, a throb that drops. It beats from your maddened heart to your aching hole, literally. A web of hot arousal dribbles over the ribbing of your walls, leaking into a sticky splotch on the plateau of your panties. Fern eyes of something unholier–than–the–moan–of–a–devil felt denser working than self–pleasure, it tickled just right.

But it doesn't belong to you, so don't pluck that apple. Ignore that tickle.

“Okay, baby–” Dina gruffs and shoots her shoulders up, nudging Els’ clingy head off, “seriously, I got shit to do.”

“Hmm, suit yourself.” Ellie gave up and wacked her hands up in defense, feigning offense. 

You slither that milk–glossy tap gently from purling lips, cooing, “There you go.” as you set the bottle down with a placid thud, spurring a lone finger up to bat slowly upon the baby's nubby nose, how maternalistic of you.

A gait of striking steps softly approaches you. With your head huddled and stance shielded the opposing direction of the two, you couldn't see who that person was. Although, you deemed it safe to assume it may be Ellie, coming to poke at you again.

“Hey, could you help Ellie sweep the barn?” a honeyed voice entrances your focus instead, Dina, of course, “sheep dragged in a whole buncha’ shit, shouldn't take long though.” she notes, casually.

A long droning intervenes “Uhhh, I never volunteered to–”

“You did when you chose to live on this farm with me,” her voice strains, flowing into a breezy chuckle whilst gesturing for you to hand her JJ, “Right, babe?”

“Pshh–” 

Bearing aloft, you slink that baby's bum right into her curviform arms, feeling the cottony onesie drag on your forearm as his weight lifts off, bending at the knees scantily.

“Fiiine, I'll muck the– smelly sheep shit for ya’,” her voice bores deeper in exaggeration, becoming a blurry blob moving behind Dina's poise as she slinks forth, “gunna’ need a mask, I think.” and quips, wrapping her lithe arms to a cinch on her waist.

Dina grunts, butting her arms loose before it gets tighter and coasting a few feet yonder, “Barn, please.” reiterated she, flatly.

Tapered as her jaw is, she clenches it further, taking that blow of a refusal to her touch peevingly, teeth to a grind. Jeez, she's quite handsy today.

“Hmmph,” a grunt deadlocks at the fore of her compressed lips, rolling at the neck and cocking aside a signal for you–”c'mon.” she mumbled, clicking her waggish tongue.”

A scoff jumps from you, “M'not a horse.” you squint and trot your feet along, heavy timber steps pittering towards the ajar backdoor, dash of light spilling through.

“What? Didn't say you were.” she headstarts and jerks the door chasmally open, banging against the oaken trim.

“Door!” shouted Dina, now muffled as you enter beneath true light of day.

“Sorry!”

You wince both muck–free feet into a macula of moist earth, feeling your weight sink and squeeze a taint of muddy blob as you hoick off and traipse forth. A kittenly, “I think the only horse here is you– smelling of sheep shit,” comeback lightens the air, giggling, “Peee–yuuu, somebody get me a mask.” and shooing an invisible stench from your nostrils.

“Puuh–lease, as if you don't smell like a hot pile of garbage after your chores,” thrummed out of her gob easily, just so she could smooth in, “Emphasis on the hot.”

“God, you amuse me.” you shake your head low and smile, bloating the inwards of your cheeks ‘till they hugged your nose, two blooming mushrooms.

Her body spirals in a swing of her leg, now walking completely backwards, “Wasn't trying to amuse, m'being serious. U're hot.” she brownnosed, even giving you the fucking eye–up–and–down. 

This baser, coy weirdo. Can't go nary a breath without summoning a smile unto you.

Your wandering eyes travel up a stream of fading cumulus clouds, sheer stranding like a veil pierced with astral rays– and you mull mind over answers across those clouds, for how could you reply, origin of wit?

Then, so cross the dumbest, possibly weakest retort, transferring from sky–gaze to mouth.

“Andddddd u're not.” you skip ahead of her with a feign of sass, causing her to whip back around.

“Not what you said last night.”

Okay that's true, but..

You egg her on, splayed palm melding to cold, rusted iron grip of a shovel, “I said a great many things, remind me?” as you tease.

“Gladly.” a hotness more snug than the sun cupped your wrist, pricking your grasp open free of the shovel–hilt and spinning you like a ballerina– knocking shin to shin so you plaster flat on the splintered wood door of that barn. Els hovered close, horridly close, breath fervent to your mid–face, “where should I start, babe?”

You freeze, blizzard of a kindled burn, a smolder trenching roots through your reddening cheeks. That throb, returns. You just couldn't gauge which throbbed more severely– the banging of a mad heart, resounding echoed thwacks against caved ribs, or the chokehold of your beaded clit, squeezing up into your cunt and getting you to chafe moist arousal from your labia, wringing webs across your entrance.

No, not again, not here.

“You should start..” a gulp burdens the words back in your gut, re–rounding with a deflect, “by mucking the stable.” silkenly fallen to a wholly nether topic.

Dumbfounded was the look to darken her visage, bristly brows dropping like sawed trees and cleft of her lips bowing to a frown, unamused, “Seriously?” 

“Mhm!” you swerve the shovel handle at her unprovoked, letting her catch it prior to crouching under her barred arms and strolling off towards the sheep stall.

And like a dog, she tailgates hot on your hind. Bark bark bark, yapping ditto to one too, “Why do I gotta shovel shit n’ not you? –Huh?” yet in the most unserious, sportive tone, ever. Dorky smirk lingering in her words, pounding a laser through the thickset back of your skull.

Man, if Ellie was a dog– she'd be a damn Siberian husky. Pining for unending attention and peskily playful, too playful, even. 

Each crunch of hay behind you, every little sigh she put forth in bone–dry air, the sum of her laughy scoffs that no way in a verdant pasture heaven wouldn't be expelled without a toothsome smirk. She was the blight of you, your anathema, pockmarking inside your brain imagery of how she looked when you averted your gaze, meanwhile she beheld the rear of your head, cocksure of her annoyance. Oh, and goddess how it never falters to soar her heart high of a heavenly altitude, skirmishing every cloud with her melodious drum of life when even simply laying scrutiny to the hair awry with mess, shrouding your nape in the natural fall of it, bouncing on each step. A love of life that you could give.

That is all her mind bends to, pestering you, so help her goddess, she will enact anything, to make this abominable sin a grounded relationship.

Look upon me, won't you?

You tuck a finger around the tiny hook lock, opening the large sheep stall, “Because–” you pause, cutting past the rails and drawing an arm over to grasp a rickety rake, elevating it over the half–wall, “someone's gotta uncover the shit first.”

Her knee pooches out mildly as she recasts her weight on a wall, twiddling her thumb over every scuffed mark of the shovel, examining its ridges beneath her print. Yet, her eyes stayed absorbed in you, taking the waft of every leg stride, arching of your spine as you stoop down, extension of your hands grasping the rake's shaft– stabbing the crooked tines into a labyrinth of heaping hay, the screaming of metal scraping on concrete, causing her ears to tremble and tighten, alongside a squint. The noise muffles, then awakens as she relaxes her facial muscles, slacking her jaw to speak, “Y'really good at that, y'know..” mumbled, even.

“Mmht–” you smack your tongue moist, dithering your head in puzzled wags, “–I am literally just raking the ground,” humbled you, thinking of her dumbly so, “weirdo.”

“Pshh, yeah, but I bet you'll have this whole stall swept in like a minute tops.” she claims through a fried rasp, vailing her pale lids low as she stares– stares of yearn.

Further squashed upon hilarity, you whack a tuft of hay clean through air, then stake the rake upright to a wooden beam and lean, staring back rich with spite, “And I bet an hour for you, what– just standing there?”

“I don't see any shit yet, m'waitin’ on youu..” her vowel drawls long, smug–fuck expression curling those rosy lips.

“Oh really?” your thumb unlocks from the lot of your clutching digits, breaching the rake with a springy sound as it bludgeons against the oaken column. Ranging your foot forward, you brace the skimp distance from you to her, planting softened steps.

Maraschino cherry of her chubbed cheeks, a puckish smirk reads more and more intently as you approach. Each thwack of sole leather to hardy ground is a pump of excitement for her– reckoning your current passage as a rite of igniting something. Sway of your hips, stopping of your tracks in front of her, she wonders– or hopes, of what you'll do next.

You gave that freckled face a prompt pore–over, recognizing that flare of her brows jerking up slightly when you park optics onto her slit–open ones, inhaling, “Then let me do it.” and splaying your palm up to the ceiling, expecting the shovel plumb in–hand, easily.

“Hmm, nah.”

You furrow a lone brow, “Why not?” 

“Cuz’ I got it.” spoken cockily, lips flubbed out and head swung like a whip, winding the crescent strands of burnished hair out of her eyesight.

So cavalier.

If Dina were here, the place’d be fuckin’ primely polished. Be for real.

“Sure,” you blunt your accent, nigh on sarcasm, “what's gotten into you?” pleating your fist to a ball, you slot it between the warm pocket of breast to bicep, crossing your arms.

You.

You– are what's gotten into her. Two horny adults unchaperoned, in the convenience of privacy, sub rosa, a smidgeon apart, lusting with their parts of lechery, staring down at sorely empty hands that could be full of each other's flesh, it doesn't fare well. Emptiness, a sphere of it, sleeping in palms where it is an unwelcome voyeur– snoring, vibrating. Dormant touch never falls short of pulsation, like a magnet, it reaches for her. 

Stroking the shovel rod as she does, with those knobby fingers of hers, twining the length, was patently suggestive. Soft rings resonate with each tug of her clewed hand, rubbing up and down, slow and thorough, what the fuck. 

And worst–best of all? Eyes. Her sooty, pebble blown pupils thinning the evergreen in her eyes, pierced yours. Forbidding ones. 

God, wary of reality or not– admit this, it was definitely hot. Hot, how her ashen lids embrace the snow and veins, a human cadre of gossamery skin. Hot, because they read debaucherous– and could carbonize a bible to cinders with a single glance, sacrilege to poetry, ergo; ‘Fuck me’ eyes. And lastly, hot, as they sat a throne upon a wicked smile, exposing her front teeth lightly, spit line attached top to bottom. In short, breathing you in, made her high off lust.

Asudden, the bow indenting her mouth is backwashed in a swallow, and her eyes disappear beyond the hood of her brow bone, captivating her soul upon a sigh. A sigh she breaks contact for, a sigh she must take, in lieu of composure– when all she perceived of you was a temptation.

A bastion of forced air swells up her cheeks, lukewarm on the gums, pouty of the lips, “Fffffffuck–” mouthed she full of that exhale, shaking her head to a low duck.

“Fuuck, what?” a mimic of her quiet curse befell your lips, curving tone and brow in confusion.

That's when her head perked, an inch, a slanted inch, bedeviled eyes divided by the drop of a short russet strand, mouth pursing to vowel out, “You.” hoarsely.

“Like ‘Fuck you bitch’ or in a ‘I'm gonna fuck you’ typa’ way?” you undulate your head cartoonishly, heightening the emphasis of both those options, cause both appeared likely.

Fluff of her brows crooking weirdly, she gawks with an inlay of temptations, bought, “That is the dumbest fuckin’–” she chuckles dryly, nose facing heavenward as she spins the shovel, going clockwise ‘round you, “–question, I've ever heard.”

Step by step, on beat, you slowly spun with her encirclement, noticing now that you're inclined to back up into the wall as she kitty–corners you, idle mitt pressing finger wads to textured wood, laying spread.The scratch of it smooches your shoulder blades as you smush plane on the wall, calves ghosting wales of wood coarse enough to leave blushy marks, and yet you rely on it to camouflage from her intimidating gaze.

A heartbeat hastens, brimming your throat with a blockage capable of consuming the words before ears could, tethering a timid gasp out instead.

Ellie rasped deep, “Cat got your tongue, hmm? Don't back down ‘n me now..” the heat of her face hovers close, cocking her head laterally to fit perfectly in your headspace, air blown from every syllable fanning your sutured mouth.

The weight her stare threw upon you was, probing, and direful. Every attempted scape–glance was a gut instinct, a reflex when shagged to a set of human bars. Flesh of bone, bone in flesh, arm to arm, what a bloody mess.

You curl your shoulders inwards, pressing folded elbows skin–tight to your ribs, “Dumbest question?” a gulp cuts the sentence, “you didn't even answer.”

“Want me to?”

“Yeah,” in defense, you tested her, “I do.”

“Ohhaha– okay..” Els’ cadence rose to amused laughter, shifting on her feet slightly, “We can fuck.” but she spoke it like you requested of it, although, did you?

Fuck.

A bulbous mass pushed your legs clean apart, trampiling the dress to a tight pull around your thighs. Confounded, you drop sights, sinking your chin in towards your neck and realizing– it was her knee.

Rough denim rustles clemently, a whisper of two fabrics meeting, between your quads. A friction so faint, so hush, begins to purr more acutely when a– ahh, pressure. A carnal pressure is given, given with urge, urging on your barely confined clit.

It stings as she drives her knee in, getting  you to clench your insides, to seize up.

A juxtaposition doomed to interblend skin.

You impel up on the wall, heel sloping to rest on the flat trim. It smashed your pussy lips, causing a chafe, ramming fabric inside the rim of your hole, a velvety draw of sleek depressing on the cotton tongue of your panties makes it stay there. Thereupon, her groin grinds a roll, nudging your pussy on top of her knee.

“Remember this, babe?” Ellie gives thrall to the dense steel in her vocals, ticking her head aside more to pass that breath firmly on your ear, “–‘member how good my knee felt? Mhm? ‘So fuckin’ good’, you said?”

A diabolical coo, she's trying to get under your skin figuratively– and literally further.

But it surfaced that memory like a buoy, erecting ayond the navy sea line with its eye–catching signal. In you, it materializes. Last night, came a blanket of umbra, yawning its penumbra in the horizon. Witching hour, obscene–eyed, gloaming your senses and eating away at deceit. Deceived? Yeah, that's how you felt, daylight by day bright, a misinterpreter.

All throughout the day, she would ghost right past you en route to Dina, much like earlier– and love up on her. Spread her taint of arousal between you, her, and you, then her again. Leading on last night, where she stowed her knee, just like now, affirming how mortally she may succumb to madness without your vulnerable phasing unto her, except, in a casual way, short of poetry. On top of that continuous grind she gave on your groin, she marked you with a claim so bold,

So freakish, so outré.

Dirty with her perverted thoughts.

You remember it, hard.

‘You love me just as much as your pussy does, face it.’ 

Hence, her knee felt as fucking liberating as it did that stone stark night. Your clit throbs with an ache, coiling your womb in moreish begs, more, moree.. please more. 

“I remember.” uttered softly, throat shutting on the words as you choke up in sensation.

A cordial chuckle blows summery hot on your ear, “Hehe, good,” and is soaked deeper in with a puckered kiss, popping quietly, “Good girl.”

That made you shiver, in a growing delight. A heat seeping between your folds, has you bearing down on her knee, slopping that raw precum all over the ruined seams of your underwear. In bodily reaction, your cunt shriveled in on itself, squelching a drop on barely–there textile– glossing a wet patch on the knoll of her knee.

Ellie espied that moistness saturating through her jeans and spreading warm on flesh when it seeps, slinking her leg a wimp inch out to gauge the spot, a fucking masterpiece, smack dab on her knee, “Fuck,” she spews, pinning teeth to lip, “for me?” she questions, even with an obvious ass answer staring her in the eyes.

Forget Dina, this felt right– too right.

“For you.” 

Her teeth bare vast in a smirk, doubling up her cheeks, “God, I love you.” because finally, fucking finally, she will have her cake and eat it too.

But first, eat the space before you.

And so she does, tucking the wad of her nose squashed in the crevice of your nostril and cheek, brushing of her mildly cracked lips greet yours to part, a balmy ask of entrance. Wagging against, the skin barely hugs with cushy compress, then she nips your bottom lip and wedges her own between, indulging the bump of your cupid's bow to cradle a whisker inside her suckled hold– her humid realm of fog. Buds connected, she felt like butter searing, softness melting, disintegration inside your clasp of a satiny hole, and she was pungent of farmland, muck sweat, everything you could have prest for. Ellie pushes passion in the form of little spit bubbles down your throat– ingesting your voice, your taste, your brain, essence in whole. Taking each other in your own two gullets, bolts of song, and long gaping moans– and even longer pants of make–out exhaustion.

“Mhhh,” she shoves another groan to rattle your teeth, hopping over cloud nine with each moan you reciprocated– like music in a fairytale, a ballad, or of a siren song, splendidly spellbinding, yes? “–fhhck yeshh–” She hums, forwarding a buck of her knee fiendishly.

You yelped, and she liked that, an impish grizzle pushing past the swollen smile and drags saliva across yours.

But.

Those hands once empty, cannot lie powerless to being so. Hers, fly from the wall behind your head and trace down your biceps, buckling unfurled over the bulge of your loose breasts and cup them tender, giving a squeeze that dimples flesh above the neckline of your dress. Not a complaint rose from you, you liked it, yearned hard of it– loved it.

She could tell by the mere movement of your back, arching into her grasp, getting her fingers to squish them even flatter, laughing the kiss to a pause, “Look at you–” she hinds back to look at you, taking your eager rush to follow her lips into regard, “fucking cutie.”

“Don't call me cutie.” you astern.

“Why noott–”

“No.”

A grin enlightens her anyways, “Got it,” and slides her lip back between yours, suckling the plump of your upper, “Mhmm..” hummed so gravelly, so good on your ears, yummy.

This girl will be the first suspect of your murder. Murder of love.. in spring.

Adjourning the freshly–sown kiss with a sloppy smack, you interrupt, “Y'know–” mhhp, a quick peck, “–think I love you too.”

“Think?” she knits her brows together dumb on your featherly melded foreheads, squishing the grooves that form in–between, “could already tell from last night,” her rasp makes it sound of a patent fact, chuckling like an asshole when you whine amid her tease, “hmm–hm, sorry babe.”

“God, you're such a dick,” you bind your head lower and ghost your barren lips over her chin, smiling amongst your dim shadow.

Index and thumb of her hand thaw ripely of your chin, exerting under the bone and beckoning you up with a kind pull, “Would a dick do this–” she twines you to the left, “Mmph,” pasting a kiss beneath one eye, “or this,” twines you to the right, pasting another peck, “or even this?” and lastly, twines you faceward.

Patent of her pattern, you expect a delicate pair of those blood swell, pouty lips to spare something planets away from porny lust– a promise, that none of this was bad. However, hopes are dashed like a racehorse when your chin rears free and a blur of her auburn head plunges out of sight, and under the hood. 

“Els’, where are you–”

Oh.

A gale of air spills up the gap of your thighs, sought upon by the whipping of your sundress’ hem up crinkled in her dual grasps, pushed against your hip bones. Knees grind in shallow dust, planting just next to your parked feet with a soft rub between the four, the perfect position, an orgasmic view. Ellie lets a gasp free upon eyeing the fat blotch soaked thoroughly to a glisten, fabric eased in your labia, showing her the shape of it. God, ‘think she saw you clench just now.

She balls the fabric to one hand, dropping her other and husking dry, “There she is– fuck, missed me?” a waggy finger rises to your clit, toying it in meager flicks– almost as to pet it.

A wince cries from you, “Ahh–” and you perk on your toes, inching away from her fingertip now padded in your sodden arousal.

Yet that fucking finger follows, pressing a hiemal print to flatten your bloated clit, clothed labia hugging the willowy knuckle. Cocky chuckle– likeness of her unabashed assholery and spilt through grit teeth, she muses in your clamping pussy lips, “Hehe, yeah? Need my fuckin’ fingers, huh?” and those damned coos, that tender tune, gosh– you can't get enough of it.

But you've had your fill of plaguing rumination.

Dina's away, nay a breath of her lingers here, not a peep of her can disrupt you, disrupt what you feel– how Els’ makes you feel. It's not wrong, if you're not the one suggesting it. It's not immoral, if it was never held in the hands of your intention. It's not your fault, if you let it transpire. Nothing to rue, not your sin, not your wrongdoing. 

So you pluck the apple.

An ease of your quads down pricks your clit with the poke of her finger, cushing the delicate flesh, “Mhm– yes, yess.” whined you, nigh on breathless.

“That's right,” thick is her voice– like a coddling of wood thicket, pushing past the devout lips that embed themselves in the chub pliancy of your belly, lain of a smooch to your womb, a quiet one, “thaat's fuckin’ right.” and jerking your clit measured with tease, idly rubbing.

The gentle marrow of that contact with your belly and your clit, sent you aquiver. Your abdomen, shaking lightly against her mouth with a breath in, lading your stomach with a rise, high–strung by that simple kiss. Too sweet, you thought, sweetly toxified of honey, unorthodox to how hoggish she usually strikes as– you expected her usual playfulness.

Softness can be addictive, and her version of soft, definitely was.

“Soo fuckin’ good t'me..” her lips detach only to press back in, multiple times, same exact spot. She wouldn't dare budge, not when it was deemed her duty to kiss you there by some unknown force, or her own accord. Ellie whispers, lugging those honey–drug lips over the pouch of your belly, “need that good fucking pussy n’ my mouth.”

A tilt, a modest slant of your hips projecting your crotch against her collarbone was your ask of entrance, and she gave her answer so fast.

“Hold this,” she cranes the clump of skirt to one of your paws, letting go when you meet fingers over fingers with her and hold your skirt to your ribs. She stops playing with your clit completely, tracing said finger up your groin and under your pantyline, pleating the band in on itself as she journeys it to your knees– letting it freefall from there.

Despite the milk–warm weather lambent to your forehead when settled under the sun, meant zilch to the cooler world inside the barn. Not wintry, but a tangible change sensed in your bare pussy. That's why you fastened your quads to a clench, nearly sucking in your cunt– oh, and the fact that two olive fern eyes are bluntly viewing it. Stage fright, much?

 A fried gasp of, “Ohh, shit–” chills it further with exhalation upon discovering the raw truth to your aroused pussy, engorged in size and pinkish in sex irritation. Ellie was drunken in that eyeshot of serumy precum wetting a film between your slit, drawing gluey webs over your hole, barely open for full study. She needs you open, she longs to see, gulping a horny thought audibly before speaking, “spread them pretty legs for me, hmm? C'mon, it's just me–” she assures, donning that calming placidity whilst palming the round of your knees apart to guide you, “–there we go, uh'huh, fuck..” departed of her voice, husky as she studied the open spread of your filthy hole, dripping for her like it fucking knew she was looking at it.

All you could engage was a tunneled stare down of your protruding crotch and her reddish–brown dusted crown, the slump your knees took clung on the flank of her biceps– plowing with an indent in her bare sun–baked skin. Els’ face so sanguine compared to the paler pigment of her fingers, which now push your thighs uncomfortably agape to the extent of bulging fat between her knuckles. Eyes bark, luring under lids so heavy and lashes like a vignette– they bark and say, ‘Keep your fucking legs open.’

Say no less.

Taken in awe, “She's so fucking pretty–” she curses with meaning, a means to make it known, licking up a river between your folds upon seeing that exhilarating view, cupping a glob of slick in her pink muscle.

“Shit..” 

Withdrawing her tongue, she swallows the creamy delight, “Prettiest pussy ever, ‘uh'huh, that's right.” Ellie being Ellie, she slaps it, eyeballing the spongy skin recoiling.

“Ah!” 

“Yeah..”

Your nude cunt was honeydew heaven in her eyes, gleaming wet like grapefruit, that's why her tongue was already slipping out on open air. Head inching to intimacy, the button of her nose dovetails seamlessly between the tippity top of your folds, and your clit, kissed with a hot spell. That bud, it fit perfectly in the wrapping of her lips, straightaway suctioned further into the gummy pucker of her mouth.

An ache zaps that little bouquet of nerves and coerces you to nearly swoon over it, yelp hitching, “Ha– aah,” and shudder teething, “Ellie..” with a hump of your glutes butting her head back, only stirring that hungry mouth of hers to pop off and swaddle it back in, tongue flicking.

Her nostrils sunk deeper in, airflow turning muffled in your crotch– yet her moans remained, abounding, vibrating on your sensitive pearl, “Mhhhh, mhmm.” rumbling deep under the soft squelching her moving jaw brought to fruition. 

Ellie, you fucking god, giving those plumate licks that are barely there, but scarily paired with deftness, getting you to squirm and squeal, “Yess– baby, yess..” That pink muscle snagging under the hood sometimes, smacking that pretty tiny clit of yours around with foams of flavor whisking onto her taste buds, humming in the notes of sex.

“Mhhh, fhhck.” her lips sever an inch, mumbling into your clit, “fuck you and your pretty little hole, god, fuck you.” she curses, cause how dare you let her impulses conquer, returning a trio of digits along your legs and swiftly finding your pussyhole, dilating the lips apart and shoving all three inside. How dare you, engross her ears in your moans echoing akin of a cathedral in her skull, ushering her to fuck you unholy.

“Ellie!” you wail, hoisting on your toes a second and clutching her in those slobbering walls– which only gushed a leak of arousal on her digits, and blocked her from further thrusting slightly, taken aback by the sudden stretch.

Her lips pop off again, slurping up the wet laces strung to her pout from your fattened labia, “Schlp– jesus, you are fucking tight,” the deepness rippled in her voice, groggy from the moist caking her gob, “let me in, don't push me out.. c'mon..” she coos gently, eyeballing the swallow her fingers took past your soaked lips, knuckles disappearing.

“O–ohh,” you tried to mouth ‘okay’, but the word just didn't fit the part.

“Just like that..” Ellie cools a fresh sigh, praising with a proud curl on her face, “Good fuckin’ pussy..” 

Letting go, your gut loosens and heightens the sensation of her skinny fingers bottoming soundly inside your vagina, feeling the callouses rub as they curl and tickle your angelsent spot, airing lips find purchase behind her fingers– and a pointy nose bumps your clit pervaded with purpose.

Spry is the moan, moaning over ‘spilled milk’, “Oh my g– uhnn..” woe is you, clawing phantomly at the spring that coils inside your womb, unknowingly providing Ellie's eager mouth with your precum.

The physical reality around you, suddenly only consisted of you, her, the barrier that stills your back, and a void inside you– being filled.

Literally.

And figuratively? Cause jeez, you must give sanctuary to a sin–eating, fleshoid beast inside your bone prison of a body, coming back here for seconds like that.

Might you be the dirty.. dirty dog instead?

Rivers of filth, she pumps those glossy droplets out of you, leathery scars caressing your ribbed canal with each pleasuring undo of your senses, she steals them like they are impartial to your bliss– bliss is all she needed you to feel for her. Fuck the worry, trash the heartache, yank the anxiety out, and soften into a pretty blob atop her fingers.

Her sultry blessing sitting upon those fingers, that's how she deems you– you do well to remember that. Her, willing frame of hips thrusting back down on the friction she gives, burrowing her nose a scent so naturally seducing, a pheromone, fucking elates her own throbbing pussy. Nothing sugary, nothing stomach–churning, just the taint of you. The threading of her jean's crotch was enough of a brute, bullying her egged clit by driving a split in it, flattening the fleshy hood everytime she shifted weight from knee to abdomen, poor her. 

“Huhnn– shit,” heaved grizzlier in her carp of stimulation decay, lack thereof rubbing one out herself and watching your delicate skin expand and crease. How could you blame her– her hand looked so right plugging your hole.

You suck your belly in, drawing tense on that thickset motion playing with your g–spot, whimpering, “Els’, please.. I can't..” a well floods in your waterline, searing with tears of crystalline iodine.

You really can't.

That scruffy mullet hides most of her big cranium, but, it was so fucking hot seeing the nominal stroke of her face, blushing strawberries betwixt your butter–spread legs. Her nose bobs north and south, dragging the bulb of cartilage over that nippy rosebud she happily exhales onto, pushing you over the earthly edge born of paltry touching. Ellie cognizes the slick–clear gospel that you were pending climax, manifesting as your needy bear downs into her slopping mouth practically lactating your pussy juices deep in the pit of her stomach, and the swelling of your wooed clit led on by her tongue, growing big and reddish on her nose to where it clasps the tip in a pillowy fashion, dabbing a glob of creamy sap. 

A mouthquake splutters wetness mixed with her spit across your inner–thighs abd vibrates your folds, betrothal of her voice waking back up, sourly muted, “She's– suh good.. mhphh– to me..” 

“Ellie..” you falter on breath, leavening in pitch.

“Phh–” a frothy sound garbled in your pussy lips, pushing her spit bubbles inside your gaping hole and traveling deeper with her fingering you, “makin’ this pushhy’ mine..” flubbed she, lapping up her cupid's bow of smeared sleek.

Your hole clamps her in as the pang begins to tick its patchy count of time, wearing the glass knot of your womb to a cracking, and troubling the base of her digits.

“Fuck, you wanna’ make this harder?” she sterned to the velvety rim of you locking on her triple shafts, porking webs of your pre–finish to teardrop down your walls as her palm splashes against your loch–sodden slit and mashes your g–spot repeatedly, plush of your labia bouncing in ripples. The noises were abundant, and pornographic, mushy as she fixes so much of your arousal on the pads of her fingers, hormones spiking at the lewd noises, “you hear that baby, ooh, fuck.” foxily ‘ooed’ that foxy–maned girl, beguiled in how your pussy spurts for her.

It wept in slaps, eliciting a palping squelch to bang, bang– bang– pound, brandishing a chilly tempest through and through your bloating labia, quivering as it readies to release. The stuffing was intimate– like a punch inside your spirit, coaxing the fragile glass to a rend, ergo, pushing out every lash of pure lucid squirt.

On the beat of your hole gushing, yelps batting you shut in the plain intensity such an orgasm brought forth, tore Ellie from simply just watching– to drinking every drop. Her voice, dusky in the backdrop of your wails sounded, “Yes– yess, babe fuckk that's it.. mhm, all over my fuckin–” her words wane as her lips clock in, a sudden rush of void fleets with her fingers sheathing out, drawing a long lubricous bunch of webbing only to be nourished in the warmth of her mouth– pursing into your labia and shaking about as you squirt.

Ellie has no shame in getting soiled of you, even the devil himself blushed at the linkness of her mid–face pancaking your lissom skin apart, spewing you wide.

“Ah! Nuh– nonono, t'much, too– uhhnn..” your throat fails you, clumping wads of words that wanted to breach, but her mouth was too good, and it's fucking obvious that she wouldn't stop, not when she can have you like this, bucking onto her flat tongue. Sinfully good, disgusting in the rawest fashion, making your crotch burn with ecstasy more than it already did.

Water upon the push of her mouth, blowing in and slopping noisily at the meat of your pussy lost it's carry to your ears. A biome of shadow, veils your vision and a pressure rains less than tender between your eyes, blurring everything before you, ebbing the grasp of your skirt to an impossible job, hands ashake. All you could gauge above the hood was fiery sweat, hot, steaming– taunting sweat, licking at your forehead.

Her nose headbutts into your vagina, slinking languidly as her head finally smacks off your numb folds, laughing, “Holy fuck– y'taste so good,” the air windy to your soaked entrance, convulsing in front of her barren eye, “shoulda’ let me lick you sooner.”

Huff, and puff, until the binds of your chest blow down, sprouting with an entire current of air, panting more than dramatic as you dwindle down like a bird's plume, “Too.. huh– haah, bad.”

A new kiss is savored to your clit, absorbing the snift her snort gave, “Haha– yeah yeah, n'you liked it, don't lie.”

No lie was home to call. You’ve a truthful virtuality.

You truly did like it, love it, cave obsession over that moment– for now it passes, and not a peck of guilt ran prickly on your arm hairs, saving your gullet free of a stony gulp. No crows died in the revelation of your scandal, only doves, encirclement in a trance chirping nuptials to be had.

I really do love you, Ellie.

Is that so bad?

“I can’t catch my– oof,” you grab sudden air with your fructifying lungs, “–can’t catch my fuckin’ breath.” and the struggle was visible, muscles like puppet strings to your fingers losing proper grasp and billowing the skirt plop on her head.

The rotund shape of it wiggles from the draping hem, continuing to laugh when her wet–handed fingertips poked thin on your ankle, bulging on both sides as she drew your panties back up all the way, slithering under your skirt’s canopy and stretching the band to a snap on your hips, skin tiding, jerking you off warning, which for sure winded the breath back in ya.

“Sheesh, no care for my panties at all?” remarked you of fun wit, gliding your thumb apart to rub the bend of your hip crest.

“You literally ruined them before–”

“And whose fault is that?” you winched from the barn wall and met pupil–to–pupil with her rising figure, revealing how slick–fucked her face really is, glossing with evidence of your cunt.

“Mine..” proudly, guilt was basal to her tone, nonexistent, inching closer to you with a slight wobble swaying on her heels.

You hark the crunch of gravel below, but keep your gaze airborne, Ellie–borne, “Exactly.”

“Cause m'hot?”

“No,” you rock your head, evil smirk deepening the corners of your lips to your gums, “that's a dumb question.”

Her arms begin to slink at fore, elbows chafing her flank, “Wow, stole my line.”

“Still dumb.” you pinch the neckline of her tank, straining it up to wipe her mouth clean.

“Coulda’ just used my hand.” she still does, the dork, purging any excess to the hill of her bent wrist.

You scrunch your nose fakely, “Uck,” and express, mumbling, “Bring a rag next time.” 

Her hands then drop, creeping towards your sides, “Didn't think we were gonna–”

“Liar.”

Those strapping hands bend with wrinkles in her knuckles as they plant pleasantly on your hips, fingernails curling with lustier keys, tugging you plane on her body, “You're so fucking cute,” is all she could say, because there was no stem of denial baying for a different answer,

Doing this was always lingering a tail on her thoughts.

“And such a bitch, fuuck– want you so bad,” complained she, pushing the last of her grizzled groans past her blood–swell lips, which now dive in the sweaty nook of your swan neck– bespattering the sensitivity, “–need y’so bad..”

You comb a paw of fingers through her honey–cresten mane, dividing strands apart and giving a fond press to her scalp, whispering upon her pale–rosen ear, “Then have me–”

“I can’t,” her crumbled lips fail to cling, dragging dry beneath your ear, “I fucking can’t.” wearily said, wearing her voice to nothing.

Infidelity.

Wasn't nice at all, on both sidewalks.

A purer bid of tears wet her cheek, drenching into the flesh of your neck as she pushes into you, holding you dear, vast afar from intentions to let go.

“I know..” was a rare comfort, and wasn't one to you right now– for plucking that apple, ripped you of innocence. A blind eye you turn when sensuality is awake. Enrapture chokes your senses, sweeps you in the moment, clouds your memory of those ugly, nasty etceteras– those facets that deplore it. Even now, when Ellie collapses weight onto her ankles, pressing you into that same wall you saw heaven on, touching heartbeats incandescent for each other's total consumption, weeping wet on your bare shoulder– it hurts, aches you to say, “But I don't want to know.”

Clutch of your neckline, she bruises her knuckles tight in it, spiteful almost– gagging on tears that roll the wrong road, “Guh– fucking hell, don't say that..” 

“Ellie, it's–”

“Don't.”

“Not your fault.” you flap your fingers up, palm still glued, patting her head.

She doesn't belong to you.

Yet you act like she does.

Pity.

A sniffle is the intake of air you feel before her nose skims off, craning her neck to an angle where she can gaze adjacent to your cheek, for beholding may prove a demise. But she can't forgo this one ask, this dream perched upon her brain, “Babe..” she purrs, dead of cadence.

“Hmm?” a whirl invites your nose to her cheekbone, offering you the picture of her side–profile. Oh, those lashes so dashing, they curl, darken her snow of eye, and trap tears.

Why, it's as if a rainbow overcasts those auburn reeds.

Ellie's capsized tune finds its stream back to that scratchy rasp, silkenly intoning on your earlobe, “Can you sleep with me tonight?” her buds ghost the rim, popping on the syllables.

Is that even possible? 

You debate with the figments in your mind, casting doubt over your facial muscles, knitting, “Ellie, you know–”

“I don't.”

“Els.” 

Long forked strokes of her fingers run up your jaw, scrolling you to then focus on her face cocooning your entire sight, and a husk enlaces you, “Forget about Dina,” a glimmer summons her lips to curl once again, “just tonight, fucking please?”

Fucking please.

A silence rots in the cordial space sparsely separating you, wrenching her brows with a ravine indenting between them– the serious look you love. And her hold of hands appear to deepen in your cheeks, claiming your skin as one, melting into her prints, squeezing a reply from you.

“Please?”

Odds may dote on you, think about this.

“Okay.”

(couldn't tag everyone who wanted to be)

taglist; @whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @fleshunger @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @slynxs @maleelee @savannahsdeath @beforeimdeceased @fleshunger @williamellieslilho @mcqueeferson @pretty-prrincess-13 @naomis-daydream @weridcatttyy @gold-dustwomxn @evera-era @criminallydownbad @yohibmbi @ang3licpretty

[signalhill-if]

Signal Hill Update 1.2.0 is Live

...been a while, huh?

After a long hiatus from this project to focus on my schoolwork, I have a whole update for you lovely folks including over 27,500 words of new content.

For new players, Signal Hill is a text-based interactive fiction RPG set in the post-apocalyptic utopia of Signal Hill. After your caravan is ambushed on the way to the city, you're stranded here- penniless. As you try to recover your cargo, you'll meet a cast of morally dubious characters looking to use you for their own benefit and uncover a web of intrigue far vaster than you ever imagined.

In this update...

DRESS UP GAMES (8.5k). As you embark on your quest to become Yvette's little helper, you'll need to do some dirty work for him- but before you can do that, you've got to look the part. Meet up with him at Darling's Boutique to play dress up with a number of cheeky, route-exclusive clothing items to disguise yourself in an underground genderfuck club.

CROSSROADS (7.5k). The local cult leader wants to meet with you- how could you say no? With tensions high, learn about Levi, the beliefs of him and his followers, and the strange living god they follow.

WHISPERING STREETS (8k). You've been tasked with figuring out who stole that precious cargo from the caravan- who shot you. Ask around, push, prod, and put the pieces together to figure out what the word on the street is. Ask the right people, and you might just learn a thing or two about the twisted web of politics going on behind the scenes.

DEBRIEF (3.5k). Collect your thoughts, share your info, and make a plan for what comes next. This scene has two variations, one featuring Doc and one featuring Levi.

Also, look forward to...

New conversations with some fan-favourite NPCs

Four new route-exclusive clothing items for folks working with Yvette

A simple UI option for desktop users

PLAY NOW.

Cover image artwork by @wuntrum | Buy me a coffee? Bug reports can be sent to signalhilldev@gmail.com

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Putt Slut? - Rafe Cameron Daydreams ☁️

+18 Minor DNI

Rafe x GolferGirlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

🪄 language and mentions of smut

650

You two haven’t seen each other long, but when you show up to the course with a bag of Callaway REVAs, he can’t help but get a little rattled, especially when he’s used to his girls play caddie, if that. He watches you smooth out your Vouri dress, slipping on your glove and Callaway hat before pulling your pony through the back. His eyes double, as you lean down to tie your shoes, catching a glimpse of your dress’s built-in shorts where he would typically see lace, mesh, or pussy.

“I didn’t know you were a golfer, princess,” his voice wavers.

To which you smile and nod. “You didn’t? Yeah. Since I was six.” He swallows hard as the stakes are quickly raised.

Suddenly, Rafe Cameron is nervous.

How would he impress you now? What if you won?

You came out of the front nine in the lead with Rafe at his wits end. He had no patience; his short game was a mess, too focused on what you would do next, which always seemed to be the right move. Not to mention you looked so good doing it, your focus locked on the game. Rafe found himself in a strange position where he was now fighting for your eye.

Halfway through the back nine, he found himself at a crossroads. There was no way he would win: play fair and lose to his girl or play dirty and knock you down a little… It started simply by disturbing your backswing or during a putt, a cough, or a sneeze. Normal enough. When that didn’t work, he switched to praise. The type of praise that would make you feel nervous about the next shot. But you didn’t falter.

There was only one tactic that remained. The one that could always throw him off his game. Rafe unbuttoned the top button of his crisp white polo, fingers curling around the leather steering wheel to let his biceps flex. Every movement was a little closer than before: your position on the golf cart, where he stood on the green, how long he’d linger for a kiss. He was talking sweeter too, his low tone deep and raspy as he leaned into your ear, holding your hips from behind as you took a few practice strokes.

“You look so pretty, baby.”

“Fuck, my girl’s so good at this.”

“Wanna take a break. Hmm? I know a spot, honey. Wanna make you feel good.”

“Need you so bad.”

“Don’t make me wait.”

PLOP.

Your ProV1 golf ball plunges into the depths of the murky pond as a sinister smile spread on Rafe’s lips. Your eyes narrow on his baby blues, catching him in the act, clocking his excitement as you put two and two together. The rest of the round plays out like the PGA tournament because, unlucky for Rafe, you didn’t like to lose either.

“Wanna just call it, baby doll?” Rafe asks knowing his game was unrecoverable, but if it wasn’t in writing, did it actually count? You shake your head ‘no’, tapping your little pencil at the card.

“One left, baby boy.” Rafe smirks and shakes his head. “A bet?”

“You’re already gonna win, baby,” he groans.

“Just this hole, Rafe. Winner gets whatever they want in the clubhouse.”

“Alright. Alright. Deal,” he agrees.

To no surprise, you close out the hole with a win. To which Rafe genuinely accepts defeat. The two of you walk up to the clubhouse hand-in-hand, Rafe still waiting for you to call him out on his bullshit from before but you don’t. He leads you toward the pro shop as he fishes for his Black Card but you pull him away fast, disappearing into the locker room with him instead, kissing your way into a bathroom stall. He lets out a devilish laugh as you undo his belt with a smile.

“Well shit, baby. What are we doin’ in here?” He whispers against your lips.

“Getting what I want.”

[violetmarkings]

Perfect | Kim Seungmin

Genre: Smut (18+)

Pairing: Stray Kids Seungmin x female reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: porn with very little plot, their relationship is kinda ambiguous in the beginning - so a fwb (?) to lovers kinda thing, Seungmin is a sex god and this mainly focused on female pleasure, so service dom seungmin x sub fem reader, edging (f rec), overstimulation (f rec), vibrator (used on f), v fingering, protected penetration, multiple orgasms (f), dirty talk, reader gets called slutty (lovingly), worship (f rec), use of the green - yellow - red safe word system, they are actually in love i swear, soft aftercare ofc, and very fluffy ending

Enjoy! 🍵

You were standing at the crossroads between love and absolute sin. And somehow, Seungmin was the bridge to both of those things at once. You counted almost five orgasms that night.

The first time, he teased and edged you through your panties, with skillful fingers. He was spooning you, his breath hot on your neck as he kissed it every once in a while, encouraging you, humming along to every sound escaping your lips; as if he was agreeing with you about how good it feels. Rubbing your pussy and clit, stopping every few seconds to make sure you don't cum too early, Seungmin was making you feel so good and so safe.

Unfortunately the edging didn't last very long because through your panties, he couldn't quite grasp how close you are. You came, relaxing into putty into his warm grasp.

"We're continuing, right?" He asked you, to make sure. Of course you were continuing. Your appetite was barely awakening, and you needed so much more from him. You were craving every single thing that you knew only Seungmin could grant you.  Nodding sheepishly at him, you turned to watch him fish out your vibrator from the drawer.

You and Seungmin had somewhat of an agreement. A mind-blowing sex agreement.

You've known him for years; worked on assignments with him, met him again at a part time job, got wasted with him a couple times, shared with him your deepest secrets. And one day you told him: that you have a fascination with certain kinks and that you wished you had someone to explore them with.

"I can do that." Is what he replied with and you didn't know if you were supposed to be laughing, crying, mortified or excited. There was definitely a spark, a connection between you and Seungmin since day one - in the idea that you had impeccable teamwork in whatever you worked at together. And he was, of course, very attractive, kind and a great person overall - when he wasn't being a menace. However, your kinks needed exactly that, for him to be a menace to you. You wanted to be edged, teased, overstimulated and tortured with pleasure until you couldn't think straight. And Seungmin took up the challenge.

So after the first orgasm, he brought out your bullet vibrator and, without even taking off your clothes, he placed it inside your panties, turned it on and pressed it onto you, making sure the panties were keeping it in place. The vibrations began to deliciously settle into your nerves, and Seungmin was moving the vibrator up and down to stimulate you as intensely as possible. The air grew hot very fast, and soon your hips were moving with a mind of their own to chase after that vibrator. You were struggling; clearly wanting it - wanting to cum again, you were craving it desperately. Seungmin was heavily amused watching you.

He made such a self discovery by volunteering to help you out. He liked it, a lot. He wasn't sure if he liked this kind of kinks in general (because he gets to tease as much as he wants) or he likes it because it's you. When he finds the courage to, he'll realize it's actually you he likes the most.

"C-cumming!" You warned him, and he was woken out of his thoughts. You orgasmed again, thighs shaking. He climbed further up your body, pulling your pants and panties down to grab the vibrator, which he pushed even tighter into your puffy clit to overstimulate you. You cried out, physically trying to fight him off with shaking, hip jerking and your nails burying into his arms. But he wasn't planning on stopping, dragging that sharp pleasure on and on, whimper after whimper sounding from you as you rolled your head on the pillow frantically.

It was so hot. Your body was so hot. Like your engines were overheating, like there was suddenly no more air to grasp onto. It was torturous, but pleasurable in unexplainable ways.

He didn't let the device slip even for one second, taking off all of your clothes with just one hand, including your shirt that was beginning to stick to your skin.

He could look at your pussy now. Really look at it, watch it twitch - the wet, leaking mess it had become. Your juices were sticking to the vibrator, making slick noises as Seungmin continued to play with you. Suddenly, he maneuvered the vibrator in his hand in such a way that it was extremely lightly grazing your clit, instead of pressing into it like it was before. It was a completely different kind of pleasure now, one that wasn't so hot and thick, it was light and ticklish, and it was replenishing your hunger for another orgasm.

"You're so slutty." Seungmin mumbled, and then he looked directly into your eyes. A pang of pleasure shot through your body at the eye contact, especially because he licked his lips. He was parched, hungry - not for food or water though, for you. His hard on was becoming uncomfortable. "I love it." He continued. "I love how slutty you are." He was still moving the vibrator up and down, very lightly rubbing your clit and letting the vibrations do the rest. His fingers were beginning to feel numb from holding it for so long. "God, look at you. So wet." You have no idea how, but he got you close to a third orgasm. "You're so sexy. I could watch you forever." He kissed your knee, your thigh, left feather light kisses on your belly. You wanted to caress him, grab him up and kiss his lips, but you were doomed to tightly grasp the bedsheets.

So close. So, so close. The pleasure sharpened and sharpened, until it finally freed you. You came again, but this time around he just helped you ride out your orgasm, body shaking and arching, legs locking around his body. Then, he turned off the vibrator. Your chest heaved, your head dizzy and ears muffled.

He moved up your body, leaving pecks on your chest, neck and then all over your face. You giggled, hand slightly shaking as you finally tangled it in his hair. You turned towards him, being met with the most beautiful, chocolate puppy eyes. They were full of admiration. He locked lips with you, in a quick but soft kiss that spoke volumes to you.

Kissing was never off of the table in your arrangement with Seungmin. Weirdly.

"Are we feeling good?" He asked you.

"Mhm." You hummed happily.

"Want more?"

"Yes, please. Need it inside." You were insatiable. You kissed Seungmin again and he couldn't help but smirk.

Crawling between your legs again, he watched your arousal leak out of your patiently waiting hole. He pushed two fingers in, curling them to chase after your gummy wall. You moaned, as if you were waiting to moan that whole night. You could finally feel it, that sweet drag inside of you. He opened you up, pushing his fingers against your walls, then began to pump them in and out, his palm slapping into your clit with every thrust. But it wasn't enough, it just wasn't. Your body was beyond sensitive, and it wanted something bigger, something more substantial.

As if he could read your mind, he got up from the bed, the loss of his fingers leaving you feeling empty. He took his clothes off and grabbed a condom, struggling to roll it around his raging hard on. He waited so patiently for this, and laughed maniacally at the string of whines and moans leaving you as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your swollen clit.

"So greedy and so eager." He teased and you nodded, biting your lip. He took that as challenge, softly fucking his tip inside of your hole. "Don't worry, I'll give you what you want and more."

It already felt heavenly when he was just fucking you with the tip. But then - then he pushed himself in deeper, and deeper. He went slow at first, dragging his hard, hot and heavy dick between your walls. You could feel him in every inch of you, in your body, in your mind, and in your soul. You were so wet, squelching so loud as he moved, that he was able to glide in you so easily, with absolutely no pain. He grabbed your hips to adjust you on his dick, lifting them in an angle.

"Help me find your spot, baby." He asked, and you shimmied your hips in his grasp, arching and angling yourself so that his dick was hitting you right where you wanted it. Like the obedient puppy he is, he began to pound into your g-spot, eventually his hand landing on your clit to rub it. Overwhelmed, your body began to burn, body shaking terribly as all of your senses overloaded. Feeling you clench so hard and shake, Seungmin slowed down, thinking you came.

"Did you come?"

"I don't know." You whined. "My body is so sensitive, I can't even think anymore." Even though you were whining and mewling, you were smiling; and so happy to be at Seungmin's mercy. You were never this intimate and vulnerable with anyone before.

"Do you want us to stop?" You definitely didn't want him to stop. He spent way too little time fucking you. Your walls were still craving the push of his cock.

"No, not yet. I'm not satisfied yet." For a second, he looked at you like you were crazy. But then a look of worry replaced it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." From worried, he went right back to cheeky as he heard the lust in your voice. What a demoness you were.

"My naughty princess." He whispered into your neck.

Yes, you were a little crazy to want more when your thighs were shaking with every thrust. But that's something he loved about you.

How crazy you were.

Wrapping his arms around you tightly, Seungmin spun you two around so that you'd be on top. With a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, he watched you move to find your preferred riding position, giving him a view of your body, that he found to be so beautiful, so perfect. Sweat was rolling down your sides, and that tortured and passionate look in your eyes was driving him insane.

You couldn't quite make yourself cum. You tried, riding him, hands pressing hardly into his chest, into his very heart, rubbing your clit with desperation as you moved. But it wasn't good enough, so he decided to help you by thrusting up into you. You collapsed into his chest at the pleasure, and he rolled you around again, to be on top and retake the lead. Lifting one of your legs up for better access to drill your hole, he decided it was about time to wrap up.

Like the absolute maniac he was, he grabbed the vibrator again and showed it to you.

"May I?" So courteous. It was pissing you off.

"You may - hnng!" Seungmin knew this was the most certain way to make you see stars. It took a couple of seconds, too. All he had to do was thrust a couple of times, let the vibrator go wild on your clit and you were convulsing, screaming, clawing at him.

He kept going through your orgasm, chasing after his own high while you were in hyper-drive, clenching so tight around him your pussy might as well swallow him whole.

"Color?"

"Ah, yellow-!" It was a simple system, really. Green meant go, yellow meant it was almost too much, and red meant stop.

"Can I finish and wrap up?" As if you were crazy enough to ask for another one after all this. But even if you did, he wouldn't agree to it. Yellow is enough for him to stop - he doesn't ever want to hear red come out of your mouth. Thankfully, you agreed to end it.

And finally, you milked him dry. He came into the condom with a grunt, stopping the vibrator and stuttering his hips into you. You both breathed hard, one more spent than the other. You've always been impressed by Seungmin's ability to not cum unless when he intends to - how even in the world does he withstand it?

After he caught his breath, he pulled out and went to clean up and throw away the messy condom. He came back to pick you in his arms, carrying your naked body to the bathroom where he gently cleaned you up and allowed you to empty your bladder and untangle your hair.

When you came back , he already tidied the room and organized a cozy spot for you on the bed where he could wrap you in blankets and cradle you in his arms.

"How are we feeling?" He asked again, and you grew so, so fond of this sentence.

"Perfect." You reply, smiling at him, and he grins back. He's radiating happiness, and if you're not wrong, he's never smiled like this around anyone else but you. "Can we become official tomorrow?" You mumbled into his chest, and his heart didn't skip a beat, it skipped multiple.

"Are you serious? D-do... You wanna be my girlfriend?" Finally. Finally he could be allowed, to love you so deep, in such a disgustingly shameless way like he desired. He hoped he wasn't dreaming, and that his sex goddess was actually, really going to become his.

"Yes." You reply, booping his nose with your finger.

"I would love nothing more." Yes, yes, and a million more times yes. Can you even begin to imagine how happy you're making him?

"Perfect." You say back, kissing him briefly before burying your face in his naked chest.

"Perfect." He copies you, leaving tiny kisses on your hair. "You're perfect."

Your feedback is greatly appreciated~

If you want to support me, you can do so on my Ko-Fi!

-Admin Starlight ⭐

©violetmarkings do not copy or repost

[miriamladyvoid]

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Between Flowers and Tangles | P x reader

I thought of a line of thought that P wants to woo the reader and that one form of wooing is to give flowers; the problem is that they didn't explain to him what kind of flora and fauna should be given as a gift as a bouquet and he does things like:

On his first attempt, P arrived at the hotel with an entire tree that he had uprooted from some random place. He held it with both hands, smiling proudly, while Gemini is desperately trying not to laugh.

Determined to improve, Pinocchio chose to collect flowers and herbs, not knowing that some were poisonous. He unintentionally caused a slight allergy to the reader, prompting him to apologize profusely.

On a third try, P decided that twigs with small leaves and spider webs were a safer option. At least, they weren't poisoun, he thought to himself.

He immersed himself in books, trying to figure out what he should include in a bouquet. After a crossroads between chaos and Krat's destruction, he found a small, but living, flower.

Very carefully, he plucked the flower from the ground and placed it in his bag, trying to protect it as if it were a valuable treasure, ready to carry it safely back to the hotel.

Upon arriving at the hotel, clumsily but gently, he handed the small flower to the reader. The next morning, a pot with the same flower appeared in the reader's room.

He saw the flower in the reader's bedroom, and felt the gears of his heart beating at full speed. So he decided to bring her little flowers little by little. Although it was a difficult and tedious task, every time he saw the reader's sweet smile, he knew it was worth it.

Sometimes, Pinocchio added small stones of curious shapes that he found in his travels. Although they were not flowers, they had some charm.

Little by little, the reader's room was filled with small pots of flowers (which miraculously survived in Krat), giving a touch of life and color to the place. All carefully attended to with the love and affection of a certain human.

Each flower was Pinocchio's silent way of expressing his love and devotion. Because, although he did not know how to express his feelings in words, his mechanical heart was full of love to give.

The hotel residents used to smile when they saw P return covered in dirt and mud, but with a spark of excitement in his eyes when he brought new flowers. Although Gemini wasn't so pleased that his lamp got dirty in the process.

But he wanted to do something bigger. So he gathered a considerable amount of flowers and, with the help of Gemini, he tried to put together a bouquet. Gemini, with a mixture of patience and desperation, suggested that he decorate it with a ribbon or wrap it in paper. "No, Pinocchio, we can't add metal parts or a weapon, much less Spring!"

With the bouquet in his hand, Pinocchio walked excitedly towards the reader's room. He knocked on the door and hid the bouquet behind his back. The reader received it with a smile, and Pinocchio, with a gesture full of tenderness, revealed the beautiful bouquet that he had made with so much effort.

Seeing the blush and happiness on the reader's face, He knew that everything had been worth it. Just as he was about to leave, he felt the reader's soft caress on his cheek and a chaste kiss on the lips that left him completely stunned, his circuits almost shorted out.

The only witnesses of that magical kiss were the charming flowers, pampered with such dedication, and of course, Gemini, who, although accidental, was the third wheel in that romantic moment.

But, being a Gemini, he couldn't resist the temptation and muttered shamelessly: "If you need a mood lamp for more romance, just let me know, I'll be here… with the spotlight off, of course."

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Banners created by miriamladyvoid© Feel free to use; please, reblog, and credit banners.

©miriamladyvoid 2024. do not steal my work plz…☕︎

Language of the flowers of each Banner:

First Banner: White Rose: Purity and Loveliness. Second Banner: Honeysuckle Azalea: Ties of Love. Third Banner: Satin Flower, Lunaria: Admiration.

[lillsisamarshmallow]

Trespassing (2)

Chapter Summary: Y/n is confronted by someone who thinks she shouldn't be here, will someone step in and help her? Is her Dog hybrid friend here? What will happen when she finds him and much more in the alleys?

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Violence, Homelessness, Dirty clothes? Slight Interrogation, Passing out, Unconscious Reader, Implied Starving. Let me know if I missed any!

Previous | Next

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Whipping myself around so I was facing this so-called wall, that had once comforted me in this scary alley, now making my heartbeat spike and the panic come back only this time much worse. A broad chest covered by a ripped and stained top filled my view, I could feel the hard breath and hot air hitting my forehead, slowly I brought myself to cautiously look up.

My eyes immediately meeting those that belonged to the person whose sheer aura was making me cower in fear and make my knees buckle in.

Deep endless brown eyes stared into my own, anger, disgust, annoyance filled his eyes whilst mine held the fear and weakness that I felt. A low growl escaped from his lips, I tried to step back and get away from him, but he grabbed hold of me pulling me closer to him before turning around and shoving me away. Now my back faced the entrance to this place. I screeched at the sudden movement before catching my balance and looking up at the man who just so effortlessly tossed me away.

He had dark hair and a pair a wolf ears adorned his head, glancing down I noticed his large tail swaying back and forth behind his legs rapidly.

He took a step towards me, scared I threw my hand out to keep him away, a smirk appeared on his lips seemingly amused by my attempt. Another growl ripped through the air, I looked over to where it came from to see a man with dark brown hair and soulless eyes emerging from the tilted mattress.

As he stood to his full height he towered over me much like the other man, behind him I saw the same tail from before, thick, black, fluffy tail. He slowly stalked his way over to me, panicked I held up my other hand a futile attempt to stop him from attacking me, if he really wanted to, I would be dead by now.

"I-I... I'm just l-looking for my friend" I stuttered out hoping they'd back down if they knew why I was here. I heard a dark chuckle and looked over to the man near the mattress, but it wasn't him who spoke.

"Your friend is not here. Now leave." The man in front of me stepped forwards towards me, instinctively I backed up.

"P-please, I'm sorry for trespassing b-but his name is Jimin and-" Before I could finish my sentence the man in front of me had lunged forward violently shoving me away.

A screamed ripped through my throat at the sudden action and the pain that came with it, I rolled a few times before coming to a stop hitting the rough ground. Groaning in pain I tried my best to stand up wobbling as I did, I quickly stepped back trying to create distance from the man and get out of his area.

I kept backing up until I was in the middle the crossroad of alleys, the other man had by now made his way to stand with the other man. Now seeing them closer the first man was taller by a bit, but both equally towered over me.

I took note of how neither of them seemed to pass a certain point and figured that past that point, behind them, was their territory.

I put my hands out in front of me knowing it would never work against them. "Look I don't w-want any trouble. I just, I-I-"

What do I even want? Why am I here? Jimin obviously isn't here, and these guys clearly don't want me here either.

"...Never mind" I spoke defeated I turned and started to walk back the way I came, only getting few meters before suddenly my body came crashing to the ground with a thud.

All the exhaustion of running here and then getting pushed down, my body had an adrenaline overload and it needed to rest, but I couldn't stay here. I dragged myself over to one on the walls propping myself against for support, my scrapped knees drawing close to my chest, my body was exhausted and so was my mind. I closed my eyes to focus on my breathing trying to calm myself down.

I just need a quick rest... then I'll leave here.

"Y/n!?"

Looking up at the mention of my name I turned to where the person's voice came from. Through my lidded eyes I spot a frantic figure looking around, spinning in circles searching for something or, someone before his eyes lock on my figure slumped against the ground.

Jimin?

Rushing over, the blond figure dropped to his knees in front of me eyes scanning my figure. His golden ears dipping lying flat on his head as his eyes filled with worry and concern from seeing my state.

"Jimin..."

"Y/N, what are you doing here? Oh god, this wouldn't have happened if-" Jimin couldn't seem to finish his sentence as his hands hovered over me not sure what to do, frozen, wanting to help but unsure of the first step to do so.

"No, this is my fault Jimin. I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll be fine I just need to-" The world had become blurry around me Jimin's face being nothing but a fuzzy spot as if wearing dirty glasses. Soon everything around me turned fuzzy as well before slowly getting darker and being completely consumed by the darkness. I could hear Jimin calling my name but there was nothing I could do, the gravity and comfort of the darkness being too powerful for anything to drag me out.

"Get her out!"

"She can't stay here."

"She's hurt! We can't leave her".

"Yes, we can! She's human, nothing but trouble she is."

"She's, my friend. She needs help."

"Friend? Jimin you can't-"

The voices of the people around me slowly brought me back the reality. Not knowing where I was, I tried not to move too much as to not draw attention to myself. Slowly cracking my eyes open, it wasn't hard to adjust to the lighting as it was dark wherever I was.

Cautiously looking around I saw 6 men all standing around arguing with each other, I wasn't present enough to understand what they were arguing about, so I drowned them out. Glancing over to the left of the group I saw another man, he looked younger than the others, over his head hung long black locks that went almost down to his shoulders at the back, it looked unkempt, like it hadn't been washed or brushed for a few weeks, but someone had attempted to tidy it up at least. Nestled in with his hair were two long fluffy rabbit ears, dark grey on the outsides with a lighter grey littering the insides.

A bunny hybrid.

Studying the man, I couldn't help but notice that he was eating what looks like a cranberry muffin.

Wait...

I made that muffin this morning, I put on the plate for me and Jimin and he didn't eat it, he took it...home...

I didn't even notice I had been staring at the boy until his dark brown orbs locked with mine, both our eyes widening at realization. He opened his mouth to say something to the other men but before he managed, I abruptly sat up straight taking in my surrounding. I was still in the alley way, on the abandon couch covered with clothes from before that had creeped me out, I looked over towards the group of men only to see that they had already spotted me from my previous alarming movements.

Seven pairs of eyes all staring at me, no one saying anything not knowing where to start, as my eyes travel all over them I realized something I hadn't picked up on before.

They're all hybrids.

The two men from before, a wolf and a panther hybrid, my eyes move to the next person, a fox hybrid, traveling to the next, a sugar glider hybrid, a cat hybrid, the bunny hybrid who had now moved over to stand with others, and a dog hybrid.

Jimin.

His eyes stayed lock with mine, concern and uncertainty swirled in them, before I had time to study the other men one of them spoke up.

"What do you want?" he growled, disgust for my mere existence clear in his voice.

I looked over to who had spoken only to see the same man from before who had pushed me to the ground. My eyes widened in fear as I tried to back up on the couch to create as much distance as possible between me and the violent wolf hybrid.

"I-" Before I could stutter out my words someone had cut me off.

"She came looking for me." Jimin defended me moving to stand in front of me. "She didn't mean any harm. I promise."

I nodded my head violently agreeing with Jimin trying to show them that was why I was here. The man scoffed before sending me a death glare. Jimin turn around and moved block my view of the others with his face. He put his hands on my shoulder, I flinched slightly as my left shoulder was bruising from my previous contact with the ground.

"Jimin..."

"I'm sorry this happened to you, it's all my fault and-"

"Jimin no, this is my fault, I came looking for you and was trespassing. I'm just glad that you're okay. I see why you don't eat as much and why you bring the left over back here" I spoke softly with a small smile.

Jimin looked down ashamed, seeming unhappy that I knew about this.

"I'm sorry, I won't bother you-" Cutting Jimin off I wrapped my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me embracing him in a hug. He didn't return the hug at first, his arms hanging by his sides. Seeing as I wasn't letting go Jimin hesitantly moved his arms to wrap them around me. Sighing into the hug I slightly calmed down, my breaths matching Jimin's, before I remembered the six other hybrids around me.

"They won't hurt me, will they?" I fearfully whispered into his ear.

Recalling what I told Seoyeon about seeing Jimin having bruises a few days ago, my mind started racing.

Did they hurt Jimin too? Did they give him those bruises?

"D-did they hurt you too?" I stammered holding Jimin tighter and pulling him closer as to get him away from them.

"What? N-no, no. They would never hurt me" Jimin said shocked by my question.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, and I won't let them hurt you either" Jimin gave me a reassuring squeeze before slowly letting go. Still facing me Jimin looked down at me from his standing position. I leaned to the side to see around him and check on those other hybrids, to no one's surprise they all stared - or more like glared back at me, startled I leaned back to my original position nervous, looking to Jimin for help.

Seeing my struggling self, Jimin took the initiative and turned to face the others and sat down on the couch. Curious eyes found mine trying to avoid eye contact with them my eyes darted around looking at the area around me. Across from me sat an old chair but it didn't match with the couch, left of the chair laid a thin single mattress with some worn down blanket on it. I looked to the other side of the chair to see the mattress from before leaning up against the wall, shielding half of the entrance was a stack a cardboard box making what looked like some sort of wall. As my eyes continued to truly study the area I had been in, cardboard boxes set up as tables, mattresses, all the dirty clothes and ripped blankets splayed on the ground and various objects, I came to the horrid realization.

They all live here...

"Guys, this is Y/N." Jimin’s voice brought me out of my thoughts looking to him as he spoke. "She owns a café a few blocks from here. She's where I've been getting the food.".

"Jimin! Have you been taking her food? I thought I taught you better than that." The sugar glider Hybrid spoke in disbelief has he strode over to Jimin who was right next to me.

"No! He didn't steal anything, I-I've been giving him food." I spoke raising my voice a little. "He's been joining me for lunch." I spoke to the hybrid who was now standing in front of Jimin and I.

He looked at me questioning before looking back at Jimin for reassurance to my accusation. Jimin looked up at him nodding confirming what I had already said.

"Good, I didn't raise no criminals" The man hummed before turning to me. I visibly tensed up before he spoke “Why were you looking for Jimin?”

"Well after he left, I was worried because he wasn't eating much and saving the food for leftovers." I spoke quietly, intimidated by the broad man in front of me. "B-but I see why now."

He stared into my eyes as I spoke and kept staring after I had finished. I could see the kindness in his eyes hidden by his protectiveness. Nervously a small smile tugged at my lips trying to ease the tension between us. It worked as he returned his smile backing away from me.

"You make really nice muffins." A voice broke the silence everyone turning to look at the who had spoken. It was the bunny hybrid, he moved slightly closer the others trying to hide behind them at my gaze.

My smile only grew at his kind words. "Thank you, I'm glad you like them.".

His big grin appeared showing off his bunny teeth and cheeky smile.

Jimin and his friends kept talking as I listened to what they were saying I moved slightly in my spot trying to subtly stretch my arms. My hands landed on the couch something beneath my palm made me grip on to the mysterious object. Looking down I saw it was a piece of clothing, looking closer it had holes and it and was very discoloured by use and dirt. Disgusted from touching the item, not know exactly what it was or where it had been, abruptly drop it back to the couch flicking it away from me grossed out releasing I had been sitting on dirty clothes. I looked up a repulsed expression clear on my face, I locked eyes with the panther hybrid, he looked embarrassed quickly looking away from me averting eye contact.

"How can we trust her?"

I turned to see the cat hybrid staring right at me before his gaze shifted to next person who spoke.

"We can't."

"Namjoon, she is Jimin's-" "I'm sorry." I declared. "I didn't mean to invade your territory or be here uninvited. Genuinely I was just worried about Jimin, and your right." I continued trying to stand up stumbling a bit, Jimin reached out to help me. I took his hand helping me to stand stably. "You can't trust me. You don't know me. Thank you for helping but I should go." I mumbled the last part bowing before shuffling out past the boys before a hand harshly grabbed my wrist.

In my spot I froze not wanting to move from my spot out of fear. Not looking back, I kept my eyes trained on the ground. Before I could react, whoever was holding me had grabbed my waist and spun me around to face them. Surprised at the two people behind me I stared up at the man holding me still, he had deep chocolate eyes and brown hair and two fluffy orange fox ears on his head.

"Thank you" He started. "You have no idea how much that food you've been giving Jimin, has helped us."

A warn thankful smile on his face, at hearing his words my heart flooded with warmth at how my baking was able to help them. I glanced to the bunny boy who stood slightly behind him before looking back at him, by now he had let go of my waist and was holding my hands in his.

"It means a lot really, even though you didn't know you were helping us all as well and thought it was just Jimin, we really needed it." Unshed tears slightly pooled in his eyes before he blinked them away beaming at me.

"Yes, thank you, all the food was so good too." The other guy gushed. "I'm Jungkook and this is Hoseok" The bunny hybrid gestured to the fox hybrid in front of him when naming his friend. "Don't worry about Namjoon, he just wants to protect us, you just have to earn his trust.".

"Yeah, Taehyung and Yoongi are really just little kittens once you get to know them too." Hoseok chuckled.

"Thanks, it's nice to know you guys liked my baking." I blushed from all the praise about my pastries I had made. "And I'm sorry again for just walking in unannounced."

"You were looking out for your friend, our Jiminie, thank you for caring about him it shows more than you could possibly imagine. Most humans want nothing to do with us or will-"

"Thank you" Jungkook cut off Hoseok before they both shared a look. I smiled at them before stepping back ready to take my leave, judging by how the sun was no longer directly above us I figured it had been few hours since I left, and Seoyeon was probably worrying about me.

"I'll see you guys around." I nodded before making my exit down the way I had come hours ago. As I went to turn the corner, I saw them both standing there, I wave them off before I saw Namjoon walk out and usher them back into the side alley before we made eye contact. He shot me a glare and stared me down before turning and walking back himself. I took that as my signing to truly leave as I continued down the alleys on my way back to the shop.

A/n: Ahhh! Next chapter is here! The first few chapters of this series might be a bit shorter, I aim to get each chapter between 2-3k words. Also Thank you all so much on the support on the first part and the teaser, I did not expect that amount of interaction, it makes me so happy knowing people have enjoyed what I’ve been working on, so I hope you all enjoy! Have a nice day & Thankyou all for reading! 💜

[cruciatusforeplay]

Map Of Whickber Street (Good Omens Soho around the bookshop)

I had a lot of fun watching the entire series again and working out where all the shops were in relation to one another. Some of these are mentioned in canon, some are just shown. I've taken some liberties with scale and the like. It wasn't clear which of these streets is Whickber Street, but I suppose there must be some mystery left in the world.

I'm adding some photo references and some more information about the various shops below the cut. If you can make out any more names, I'd love to know.

It's possible the deli is also part of Francesco's as they're both Italian, but there is a front door by the awning that could lead to the restaurant (not an unusual set up for Soho). Francesco's awning is the victim of Crowley's rainstorm.

Between Francesco's and Give Me Coffee is a shop selling formal menswear that I couldn't make out the name of.

Next to that is the coffee shop, Arnold's (the musical instruments shop), Marguerite's (the French restaurant), and newsagency (the news agents). We get a lovely shot of them from the upstairs of the bookshop (newsagents just barely visible).

Opposite them, we obviously have the bookshop itself and down from that, the record shop (which is called The Small Back Room, presumably in reference to having started at the back of Aziraphale's bookshop). The record shop is the orange shop you can see below. (There's also a clearer view of the newsagents).

The shop one down from the record shop is currently a question mark, but it does have a very bold colour scheme, and at one point we are a candelabra and a piece of fabric in the window display. I can't make out the name of this one either.

Opposite the bookshop we have the pub, the Dirty Donkey, whose front door is also the lift to heaven when summoned. Next to the pub is the doorway that leads you to the brothel (I picked the colour on the map from the new model friendly hands sign on the door), and next to that is Will Goldstone's Magic Shop. The magic shop, bookshop and the pub can also be seen in 1941 London flashbacks. Opposite the magic shop and next to the bookshop is another unknown shop. My gut says it sells lighting or maybe more general electrics, but I couldn't get a good enough shot to really see it.

At the end of this street we can see the Lucky Snake which I believe is a Chinese Restaurant, and just to the left we can glimpse a yellow shop, that I suspect is the herbalist that we see mentioned on Aziraphale's list of local businesses. Soho and Chinatown are geographical neighbours, and it's not uncommon to see Chinese herbalist or health shops in Soho. The red lanterns from the Lucky Snake continue down over the yellow shop, which is what gave me the impression it might be the herbalist.

Directly across the crossroads from the bookshop we have a fruit and vegetable market, that has a flower stand on the corner. That's where the tomatoes roll from when Gabe is walking through naked. (The veggies are obscured in the shot below, but we do see them in general)

If we follow the road between the flower market and the newsagents, I've extrapolated that the stage entrance to The Windmill (the theatre that we see in 1941) is there. We get a moderately clear view of it during the flashback, and the Windmill is a real place (to my knowledge it's somewhere between a burlesque club and a strip club these days), so I figured it would still be standing here too. We get the briefest of glimpses of the stage door still standing in modern London.

If you care for real world geography, then The Windmill's main entrance is on Great Windmill Street, right off Shaftesbury Avenue, on the corner of Archer Street.

I could not for the life of me find Brown's World of Carpets anywhere. Maybe he's not even actually a local business. He seems the type to fake it.

Here's a view of the area from heaven.

[thepointofclicking]

Dirty Work At The Crossroads #2 Comic Review

[tumbleweed-run]

Could Gale ever be Poly?

Situationally. Yes

Am I the person who wrote an entire post about Gale being a jealous (rightfully so) man? Yes.

But hear me out, in the aftermath of BG3, as long as we took everyone's "good" route. I could see him eventually agreeing to a 3rd. Not just any but very specifically Astarion. And while this is partially bloodweave brainrot I assure you I have considered it.

It wouldn't be easy for either of them, and realistically Tav. But Gale would start out as the main, Astarion and Tav are just BFFs. Astarion learning that love can be without strings.

They invite him to Waterdeep, away from the city and it's memories but also towards a potential Vampirism Cure/Day walking spell that doesn't involve becoming Cazador. Because Gale would be the most qualified to find that cure. And I bet his tower is easily traversed in the daylight hours without risk to Astarion.

It could just stop there, the three of them happy.

But we're discussing a triad.

I think the first crossroads towards romance would actually be Gale/Astarion. Astarion would still be himself and while his innuendo and flirting is generally accepted as just Who He Is and no one pays it mind. Maybe Gale off handedly agrees to whatever entendre that is proposed, as a challenge or just truly "yes I would agree to doing this dirty thing you've joked about." Astarion would be

at first. Mostly from shock but then he'd dwell on it. Tav and Gale aren't shy with touch, with each other or him. He's regularly hugged and cuddled, sometime's he's even the initiator. It's not uncommon for Gale to emerge from his study after hours to find them curled up on the same couch each immersed in their own thing.

Gale's probably the first one to be surprised by his own lack of jealousy when he happens upon the scene for the first time. But it just becomes the norm. And when Tav is off working on their own thing it eventually becomes common to find Gale and Astarion knee to knee in the study, each with excessively large tomes, leaning over one another because they're both working from BOTH books.

So that first time Gale is blatantly like "yeah lets do that" Astarion is struck by the fact that... he actually might want to. But he's reluctant because Tav's (and admittedly Gale's) friendship is unexpectedly more important that anything as fleeting as 'romance' or 'lust'.

But Tav is 200% on board when the conversation get brought up by Astarion (in the 'ahaha you wouldn't believe...' way). They love both these idiots, albeit in different ways, and wouldn't mind. Even if it was just Gale&Astarion.

But it would never be JUST those two because of how deeply both men care for Tav. Whatever they build to becomes normal. Maybe all three sleep in the same bed, Astarion position on the outside so he can sneak off when he's done resting. Maybe they just constantly find each other making overlapping decisions about future adventures or where to look for a rumored cure.

Part of the reason why this works is Gale and Astarion are not dissimilar. They face their trauma with different takes but it's deeply embedded in who they are and how they'll approach life forever more. While Gale is 100% willing to try and give Astarion more autonomy than he's ever dreamed of, believing that 'if you love something set it free' line. Astarion would spend a lot of time trying to get Gale to see and accept that while he made mistakes he was far from the villain in his story. Tav would spend most of that time trying to run around thwarting miscommunication and reigning in Astarion's god-killer urge despite also wanting very much to punch Mystra.

So while I think both men deserve to be 100% the center of someone's affections, I also believe they could eventually find a healthy trio dynamic.

(and also do whatever the faerun equivalent of an eiffel tower is to tav regularly)

[cowpokeomens]

Blood Pact

It's me, your favorite monster fucker! Here's another part of my Nocturnal Creatures series, in which you strike a deal with a demon- who goes by Nicholas. Sexy things ensue.

Warnings: Disgusting nasty filthy p-in-v, cunnilingus, lots of mentions of virginity (it's a social construct, but if you got it, flaunt it), Nicholas Ruffilo's monster cock (canon), if you feel I need to add anything PLEASE send me a message! Otherwise, enjoy!

________________________________________________________

You still couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Yet, here you stood, at a crossroads in your hometown. Not just the metaphorical kind, either- an actual, physical crossroads. Mason Avenue and Fisher Street, to be exact. 

Right next to the city cemetery, from which you stole a jar’s worth of dirt.

It sat in your bag, next to some kind of flowering plant you hoped would work, a cat bone (thank goodness for veterinarian friends?), and a picture of yourself, one of the headshots your manager had insisted would help you blow up on TikTok. 

It hadn’t.

You threw everything into a cardboard box, using your shiny, new shovel from the local feed supply store to dig a hole in the center of the dusty dirty roads. The ground was harder than you expected, so your two-foot deep hole had you sweating by the time it was formed. You all but threw the box into the hole, quickly covering it up with loose dirt, and taking a few steps back. Pulling out your phone, you consulted the symbol you saved from a website earlier that week, spray paint in hand. All the stupid Wal-Mart had left was “Cerise Fluorescent,” so you hoped whatever you summoned liked pink. 

Carefully, you sprayed the lines onto the dirt, over where you buried your box. You tried to move quickly, but precisely; Getting caught was almost as terrifying as doing it wrong.

Finally, it was done. You scrolled over on your phone, to the Latin text you hadn’t even dared to read in your head. Stepping away from the circle, you read it aloud now. You could feel your heart about to beat out of your chest, and you wondered one last time if this was worth it. 

“Your Latin sucks.” A voice said suddenly.

You jumped, yelping, and fell directly on your ass.

You were scrambling back when the voice spoke again. 

“Is this a Goetia sigil? In pink? The guys are going to get a kick out of this-”

You stood up shakily, dusting off your pants in the process. You finally saw the source of the voice: Standing in the center of your sigil was the most devastatingly handsome man you had ever seen. 

Long, dark hair; his skin was lightly tanned and healthy-looking. Eyes the color of clouds, that seemed to shift from green to blue to grey before you. He was taller than you, tattoos visible on both hands, and dressed simply: A hoodie, dark jeans, and…

Were those Converse?

You were immediately overcome with confusion. “Um, who are you?”

He fixed those eyes directly on you. “I think that’s my line, doll.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “You’re Amdusias?”

He winced. “Yikes, with the Scary-Latin-Demon-Name. You can call me Nicholas.”

You frowned. “You don’t seem like…”

“Like a great duke of Hell?” He finished your thought. “Yeah, only angels really like to make a dramatic entrance, that’s why they’ve been banned to stay behind the pearly bars. Too many eyes, too much fire-”

“You’re wearing sneakers?” You said without thought.

He looked offended. “Did you expect me to crawl out of Hell in loafers?”

You scrambled for an answer. “Well, no, but I-”

“TV is rotting your mind. What do you want?” He cut you off.

You felt the color leaving your face. “Well, um, I read that you were responsible for the music in Hell-”

“‘Music’ is a big word, but sure.” He interrupted.

Giving him a look, you continued. “Well, I’m a musician, too! Only…” You trailed off with a frown.

He mocked you with a faux-wince. “Ooh, not triple platinum yet, huh?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hide your disappointment. Shaking your head, your gaze met his again. “That’s where you come in.”

An eyebrow cocked at you. “Think that because you snagged a demon, you get to be famous?”

You shook your head hastily. “No, not at all! I did a lot of research-” You Googled for 30 minutes- “So I don’t get to demand things without a trade, right?” 

He smiled at you lazily. “Yep. So what will it be, your soul? First born? I love a first born, with a little bit of butter, some rosemary and-”

“I’m a virgin.” You blurted. 

He froze, then his entire demeanor changed. For the first time that night, you felt genuine fear as the air around you went still. “Oh yeah?”

Your mouth gaped like a fish, so you settled on a nod.

He took a tiny step towards you. You were rooted on the spot, frozen like a deer in headlights. This was a bad idea. 

Finally, you found your words. “My virginity. For- whatever it is you do. Fame, fortune, I don’t really care, I just want people to hear my music, connect with it-”

“Yeah, yeah, real noble of you.” He snorted, then composed himself. For a second, he almost looked concerned. “You sure about this, doll?”

You nodded, trying to look confident. “Yeah. But- make it organic, y’know, the fame part. I don’t want to look like an industry plant-”

He rolled his eyes, walking closer so that he was directly in front of you. You gaped at his proximity. “You can leave the circle?”

Laughing, he nodded. “I could have left at any point, but you’re pretty-” He leaned in so that he was whispering in your ear, “-For a pathetic little human.”

Your cheeks went hot. You knew it was just to rile you up, make this worse than it already was. At least, you figured, your virginity meant something to someone- it certainly held no value for you. A demon was less than desirable, but he was nice to look at- 

Woah. Not going there, you told yourself sternly. 

Shaking off the feeling, you held out your hand. “Okay, so deal-”

“Uh, no.” He cut you off, again. “I have my own terms and conditions.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

A smirk grew on his face. “My terms. For our arrangement.”

You tried not to let anger well up inside you. “And what would those terms be?” You asked through gritted teeth. 

“You come to me.” He said plainly. Confusion must have been evident on your face, because he continued, “I’m not some monster in the night who’s going to show up for your virginity. When the time is right, you’ll come to me.”

“You’re not going to just… Take it?” The question slowly left your mouth.

He grimaced, an ugly look for such a pretty face. “Ew, no. I’m a demon, not a wild animal. Besides,” he cocked his head to the side, looking directly into you. “Virginity tastes better when it comes willingly.” 

Gulping despite yourself, you managed a nod. “Okay. Fine. I’ll come willingly.” As if. 

Holding out an inked hand, he grinned at you. “Then it’s a deal.”

Taking a deep breath, you took his hand in yours, shaking once. “Deal.”

_________________________________________________________

Six Months Later 

You awoke in a cold sweat, the third time that week. Flicking the bedside lamp on, you walked over to the mini-fridge of your hotel room, grabbing a bottle of water. You were uncomfortably wet- again, and not from sweating. It seemed like every time you tried to rest, you were met by stormy eyes where sleep should have greeted you. You chugged the water, making your way to the restroom for a much-needed shower. 

That night’s show had been sold out- the 13th sold out show of your highly anticipated debut tour. Nicholas had held up his end of the bargain; Your album was projected to sell close to a million units by the end of the year. And you had seen neither hide nor hair of him. 

Well. Not in the flesh, anyways.

As you started the shower, your mind wandered. You knew it was him, sending you these dreams through his weird demon dream channels or whatever. Even as your body betrayed you, you knew it was not your own thoughts causing such a commotion. 

Still, as you slipped in the shower to wash off the day’s grime, you felt your hand slip lower, between your folds to collect the wetness there. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you circled your bundle of nerves, moaning quietly. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts drifted back to long, dark hair and tattooed hands on your body. Your hand moved quicker, moans growing louder as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. You were on the precipice when a familiar voice made you freeze.

“I knew you’d be loud.” 

Yelping, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, almost falling in your panic. Yanking your towel off the rack, you wrapped yourself as quickly as possible as you threw open the shower curtain. 

Nicholas was sitting criss-cross on the expansive bathroom counter, picking at something under his nails. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped.

“You summoned me, duh.” He said, rolling his eyes at you. 

“Yeah, six months ago. I thought I was supposed to come to you.”

He looked at you then, eyes dragging over your poorly-concealed form. His eyes glinted, looking hungry. “Moaning the name of a demon you promised your virginity to while you rub one out in the shower is a summoning if I’ve ever seen one. Besides,” He looked into your eyes, smirking devilishly. “You were about to come to me, from the sound of it.”

Your face was on fire with embarrassment. “I was not moaning your name.”

He cocked a brow at you. “Uh, you were. Loudly.” 

Rage bubbled up inside you. “I was not!” The words spilled from you now. “I wouldn’t have even been doing that if you hadn’t been sending me all of your weird demonic sex dreams constantly!”

An unnamed emotion flashed across his face, then he grinned. “‘Weird demonic sex dreams,’ huh?”

You huffed at him “Oh, don’t even play coy. Like being dragged back to Hell and tied up by some hot shot demon was my big idea.”

The smile he was giving you was sinister. “Right, right. What else have I sent your way?”

You faltered, unsure of what he was playing at. “Like you don’t know.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t. I haven’t ‘sent you’ shit.” He mimed quotations with his hands. 

Your blood went cold. Suddenly, the bathroom was too small. “You’re lying.” Your voice sounded feeble, even to you.

He shook his head, standing up. Slowly he stepped towards you. “I’m not.”

“But then- that would mean-” Stammering, you stood there helplessly as he crept closer. 

Nodding, he leaned in even closer. “That was all you, doll.” He brushed a stray lock of hair off your shoulder. “What a dirty mind the little human virgin has. You mentioned being tied up- what else did I do to defile you, huh?” 

He was too close, it almost made you dizzy. He smelled like smoke and rain and earth all at once. “Shut up.” You mumbled weakly.

He stepped back, finally. “Well, you know how to find me.” 

There was a crack like lightning, then he was gone. 

You stood there for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure. This was fine, you reasoned. He left. He kept his word. Everything was fine. 

______________________________________________________

Three Months Later

Once again, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed in your master bedroom, you gazed out the windows overlooking the city below. You remembered when you first bought the condo- loved how open and light it was. In the deepness of the night surrounding you, the lights looked like tiny fires dancing in the dark. 

Taking a deep breath, you laid down on your pillows, trying to relax your body. Running a hand over the t-shirt on your abdomen, up to your breasts, you felt your breathing start to slow. Your nipples were quick to perk up at the stimulation, so you pinched one experimentally, almost moaning out at the sensation.

Your nerves were on fire these days. The slightest brush against your skin made you feverish. You tried everything, from quitting cold turkey to bringing yourself to climax three or four times a day. Nothing was working. 

So maybe this would. 

You snaked your hand lower, falling into familiar routine. You had come to know your body well the last three months, knew exactly where to rub, where to pinch. As you toyed with your folds through your underwear, you imagined a different set of hands, larger and covered in ink. Unlike the other times, you allowed your fantasy to overtake you, gave yourself to it willingly. 

“Nicholas.” You breathed, back arching ever so slightly.

There was a slight breeze, then a quiet gasp. 

“Quite the show you’re putting on, doll. I suppose you didn’t say my name this time, either?” 

You pulled your hand away from your core, scrambling to stand up. “No, I- I did.”

Nicholas’ face looked shocked for a millisecond, then an eyebrow was raised at you. “Oh?”

“I’m… I’m ready.” It didn’t sound convincing. 

He scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks. Like I said, I’m not interested in forcing anyone-”

“Goddamnit, shut up.” You snapped. “I said I’m ready, okay? You said to come to you, so here I am. Unless you never planned on following through with it.” It was dangerous to goad him, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

His eyes were pitch black in an instant, staring you down. “Don’t joke about a demon’s word, doll. You’re not ready for that fight.”

Your hands shook, but you felt-

Mortification overcame you as you realized just what you felt. 

Those dark eyes narrowed in on the single bead of slick that was rolling steadily down your leg. Cloud-grey eyes returned as realization dawned on him.

“You want me to debase you.” He took a step towards you as his words filled the room. “You want me to tie you up and have my way with you. Isn’t that right?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth, but it was evident. 

He inhaled deeply, taking another step towards you. His eyes fluttered shut as he exhaled slowly. “You smell ripe. You want this so badly, poor thing- you just can’t admit it to yourself.”

You pressed your legs together, trying to maintain some kind of decency.

He was in front of you now, close enough to touch if you were braver. “Beg for it. Beg, and I’ll give you anything you want, doll.”

Chest heaving with labored breaths, you gave in. “Please.” You whispered.

His hand- the hands you had been dreaming about for nine months- came up to grip your jaw. “I said beg.”

You crumbled. “Please, Nicholas, please, I’ll be so good-”

His grin was minatory as he brought his lips down to yours. 

Your relief was immediate as you sagged into him, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to support you. He walked you backwards toward the bed, still kissing you furiously. 

“How wet are you already, doll? I bet your little cunt is just soaked.” Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and set you on the bed, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “Tell me what you want.”

You panted, unable to form a sentence for a moment. “I don’t- I don’t know.”

He made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth. “Right, you’re just a helpless little virgin who hasn’t spent the last 9 months having vivid dreams about me fucking her.” He looked up at you through his lashes. “Tell me what you dreamed about.”

“Your hands.” You heard yourself say immediately. 

He smirked again. “Oh yeah? What were my hands doing?”

You knew your face was crimson. “They… They were touching me.”

“Where?” The look he was giving you was too intense for you to maintain more than a few seconds.

“Um-” You hesitated. 

“You can say it.” He urged, leaning in.

“My… my pussy.” You finished, staring at the ground.

“Do you want me to play with your pussy now?” He was still staring at you.

“Please.” You breathed, anticipation making your entire body tense. 

“Good girl, so polite.” As you shivered at the praise, his eyes made their way down your body, to where your core was at eye-level for him. “If you want to stop, say so, is that clear?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

Something dark flashed in his face, then he said, “Good girl.” 

His hand came up to run a single digit along your slit, through your underwear. You shook involuntarily at the contact. 

“Oh doll, you’re starved, aren’t you?” He murmured, almost to himself. “Let’s get these ruined panties off of you.” 

You went to shift your weight so that you could shimmy the garment off, only to freeze as Nicholas tore through it like a piece of paper. 

He didn’t even look apologetic. “Hope you didn’t like those too much.”

You didn’t have time to consider it as you realized your cunt was fully visible to him now, slick with your own juices. 

He sighed as he stared at your core. “Women are the best thing that bastard ever accomplished.” Then he looked up at you. “I’m gonna use my mouth, that okay, doll?”

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was hoarse from disuse. You felt like you were vibrating in your skin. 

He leaned in slowly, as if to not startle you, before running his tongue from your hole to your clit.

The moan you let out was guttural and animalistic. 

“There it is.” He said quietly, before diving back into you. 

Your head fell back onto the mattress as he lapped at your clit, tongue occasionally diving into your hole. Tears welled up in your eyes at the relief it brought, like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day. Your hands tangled in his long tresses, and he moaned against your pussy. Your hips were bucking into him involuntarily, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it. “Nicholas, I’m gonna- I’m so close-” You practically sobbed. 

“Shh, I know, doll. Let it happen.” He said soothingly before going back to his ministrations. You came with a primal moan, back arching off of your sheets. 

 You were still panting when he stood up, surveying you. “All better?”

“Fuck me.” You demanded. 

His expression went stoney. He leaned over until you were caged in by his arms on either side of you. “I don’t fuck demanding brats.”

You lost all your bravado. “Please?”

He sighed softly, but not sincerely. “How bad do you want it?”

You could have cried. “Please, I’m sorry Nicholas, I’ll be good, please fuck me- you don’t know how bad I need it-”

“I just had your greedy little unused hole grinding against my tonsils.” He sneered. “I know exactly how bad you need it.”

Your face went hot at the profane nature of his words- but he was right. He saw firsthand how bad you needed this. “Please.” Was all you said. 

“Well, I guess since you’re asking so nicely.” He mocked as he stepped back, unbuckling his pants as he went. He slid off the trousers, his erection visible through his briefs. You suddenly felt nervous, looking at the size of him. 

He stopped, seeing your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- is it gonna fit?”

He pulled the briefs down at last, finally freeing his cock. It was big- even by supernatural proportions. The tip was an angry shade of red, veins pulsating on the shaft. He huffed a laugh at your face, pulling his shirt off, too. “I bet we can find room.”

Your eyes devoured the tattoos that covered him, tracing the planes of his body as you went. You almost didn’t notice him slinking over to you, crawling onto the mattress in one, fluid motion, landing on top of you. 

“I’m gonna touch you again, okay?” He looked at you expectantly. 

You nodded. “Okay.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, tongue sliding against yours. You whimpered when his fingers were back on your pussy, running along the folds. As you adjusted to his touch, two fingers slipped inside your hole.

“Fuck you’re still so wet,” He muttered, rocking his fingers back and forth inside you. You gasped at the sensation, his fingers so much larger than your own. Moving his mouth down to your neck, he began scissoring his fingers, stretching you out- a preparation you were thankful for.

You felt your second orgasm approaching as he continued his movements, moans growing higher pitched. “Nicholas, I-”

“Think you can hold on?” He asked. It was a genuine question, you knew whatever answer you gave would be correct. 

You considered it for a second. “Yeah, I can- I can wait.” Your legs were still beginning to tremble, though. 

He placed a kiss on your temple, pulling his fingers out. “I’ll go slow, but we can stop if you want to.”

You nodded an affirmative. He stared at you blankly, and you remembered yourself. “Yes, sir.” He tapped your nose, a gesture that was oddly sweet, as he said “Good girl.”

You felt him line up with your entrance, the tip slowly sliding in. It was still a stretch- but you found that you liked it, liked the feeling of being filled up. He went slowly, thrusting shallowly, each time going a little deeper. You could hear the noises you were making, but couldn’t stop yourself from making them. He paused three-fourths of the way in. 

“Doing okay?”

“Yes Nicholas, please don’t stop.” Came your gargled reply.

He smirked, thrusting a few more times until he was fully sheathed in you.

Your back arched clear off the bed as he bottomed out, his tip nestled against something inside you that made you feel feral.

“Like that, doll?” You could hear how smug he was.

“Please, Nicholas, please-” You whined.

“I know, pretty, I’ll give you what you need.” His hands tightened their grip on your waist as he pulled out and slid back in quickly. You let out another carnal wail, your hands coming around to grab at his shoulders. He pulled out again, slamming into you, continuing on until you felt like a puddle on the bed.

“So wet and tight for me, such a good girl.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You nodded pitifully, not sure why, lost in the pleasure. Over and over again he slid against that sweet spot inside you, making you feel like you were on fire. Your orgasm soon approached you like a freight train.

“Nicholas please, I need- I need to come-” You stammered, close to sobbing. 

“I know, it’s so much, I know, you can come, doll.” His words opened a dam as your orgasm overcame you in a powerful wave, making you all but scream as he fucked you through it.

He pulled out shortly after, jerking himself to completion on your stomach. You were gasping for air, legs quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm as hot ropes of come covered you. 

You felt disgusting, in the most delicious way possible. 

Nicholas disappeared around the corner, returning with a rag to clean you up. He had used hot water, you noted, so it was warm to the touch. 

“So that’s a deal?” You asked when he had finished cleaning you. 

He looked sad, but the expression was quickly gone. “I suppose it is.”

He set the rag on your bedside table, already going to collect his clothing.

“I have a question, before you disappear again.” You called over his shoulder.

“And what is your question?” He turned around to face you as he pulled on his briefs.

“If I wanted a Grammy,” You began, cocking your head to the side. “What would your rates be for that?”

He gave you a grin, understanding your implication immediately as he dropped his pants back onto the floor.

“I’d be open to negotiation of terms.” He murmured as he made his way back over to the bed, lips slotting against yours once more.

[matenrou-fan]

~Intoxication~

Me: oh I just will take a day off from Tumblr! *writing the biggest fic I ever made.*

Anyways this idea was in my mind for a pretty long time but I was kinda indecisive to start this work. Feel more nervous than when I posted another pretty dirty fic as this time it's much harsher. So please read tags carefully.

Intoxication of love.. or of lust? Diavolo didn't know himself what exactly was outweighed in his chest, but there's something he knows for sure - he'll make you his today.

femreader, possessive!Diavolo, delusional!Diavolo, aphrodisiac, oral (receiving), fingering (receiving), dirty talk, crempie, drugging, dumbification, non-con, slut shaming, Master/slave undertones;; 3914 words;; Please contact me if you think I forgot to add something!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

Just another evening in Demon Lord's Castle.. Well, at least from your point of view, as everything was so casual, casual as it was a few days ago, and a week ago, and a month ago. There's no fear or thrilling excitement that tickles in your chest when you visit such a luxurious place for the first few times. And of course you stop seeing Lord Diavolo as someone authoritative and powerful, more like a good friend who you don't mind to tease sometimes.

But that's what he's needed, that's what he expected to see - a zero suspicion or careful attention from you. And that is what would help him to put his plan into practice.

"Mm, s/o, you're here! I was waiting for you." - With a usual big smile he got closer, flung out his arms in a lavish gesture.

All speeches are well prepared. All his actions, every movement is well prepared. Not too perfect to evoke a feeling of falseness, but without any wild surprises, keeping your guard down.

Today he's more collected than before his official meetings or important events. Why? Because losing his status or just getting a little confused on scene is not bothering his heart as much as thoughts about losing you on a strange path of your relationship with demons around. Moving closer to one demon brother, than to another, like a little brat that just plays on crossroads but never stepping too far away in one certain direction. And moreover, never looking in his way, stepping on Diavolo's side only when you're too bored and have no right mood with these seven jerks. You just know how to play with their hearts, and today there would be a punishment. Don't want to get closer on your own? Be ready that sooner or later there will be a strong arm that just finally drags you to one of the ways. And the young Lord is willing to make you fall into his ground. To his feet.

"Sorry that I didn't text you back sooner.. Was a little bit busy." - your soft smile is adorable, but he notices how the corners of your lips twitch a little before lifting up. Oh, busy? You always have this 'guilty smile', that's what he called it, when getting late in RAD or in his Castle, or somewhere else, just because you were having fun with someone else, not because you're busy. Foolish and so air headed outside, Diavolo actually carefully remembered all pieces of information about you, all these small differences in your reactions..

"Ah, it's okay! I'm ready to forgive you, but only if you would tell me what happened.." - no indication of envy or anger, only this slight flirt that he always did, which always makes you think you're in charge and can tease him a little.

"Oh, nothing too serious. You know, just Mammon again is-"

Listening to your voice while you two sit at the table, Diavolo truly listens to all this nonsense, showing his usual reaction - laugh and just a little bit of jealousy about you all having such a good time in House of Lamentation. But it's just a piece of his attention, when inside his thoughts were far away from all these demons, as he concentrated on a cup of herbal tea in your arm. Almost full without a few sips, maybe he should shut your mouth a little and tell you something too so you would pay more attention to your drink? Effect would last pretty long yet his patience is otherwise.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"Really? I never knew that.." - you mumble, smiling weakly as you look at your almost empty cup. It was such a pretty long day, that's why you suddenly start feeling kinda strange? Something like drowsiness, but at the same time like a second wind too.. Like if you didn't sleep for a few days and all your motions get so slow but suddenly a new wave of energy hits your body.. But not in some fresh way, as these goosebumps on your skin make you heated up. It's like it hits not your whole insides, but only the lower part…? The more you try to describe your own feelings, the more confused you get. Such a mix of thoughts in your head makes you dizzy.

Oh. oh. And of course Diavolo quickly noticed that. Who, as if not your generous, kind and cheerful friend who invited you to visit him today, will help you now?

"S/o, is everything alright?" - the itch to add some slight mockery in his tone was almost irresistible, but that's too early for something like that. There's plenty of time for him to have some fun with vengeance for all days that you ignored him..

"No, I think I just don't sleep that well tonight.." - a small trembling sigh escapes your lips, as you rub your temple in circle motions. But thoughts keep fading away in the middle of sentences, how can you even explain to him properly this strange sudden fatigue?

"Hm, maybe we should have a little walk around my Castle? It always helps me feel a little bit more fresh.."

Diavolo's right, as it helps you too sometimes, especially when you just want to clear your head, like right now.

But today the corridors of his residence were more like a labyrinth, and even familiar places were so far away and strange for you. Necessity of carrying on a conversation did not divert you from this nagging waves of pain, and the cheerful, unstoppable bubbling of the young Lord just turns your mind into a complete mush. Where were your thoughts, and where was his one, that he pushed in your mind with this chirping..? Your weak whining was the only response to his question that you didn't even understand. Perfect.

"S/o..?" - Snaps of fingers were so close to your nose but you didn't even react that well, only shrugging a little. You lazily turned to face Diavolo, but not for scolding him for such boorish behavior, your minds didn't even produce a thought about this being disrespectful or just strange. You turn just because he attracted your attention in this way, that's it, and Diavolo loves how quickly you get so obedient. What else can he try then?

"You hear me? Are you alright?" - This time there's undisguised mockery, yet you didn't get mad, once again. And even when he steps closer and squeezes your waist with his hands, in a pretty firm grip on purpose, you only furrow your brows and mumble:

"Dia.. Wha.." - Without that much resistance. The way you place your hands on his shoulders even can be called like some romantical move, only slight attempts of pushing tells him that you're not really understand what's going on. Maybe even not like it or hate it, in the very depth of your minds, where his drug didn't reach for now? But it just turns him more.

That's it. You ARE weak now. The kindness and compassion have left, leaving you with a cold, dominant demon - one who is in control.

Throwing away this obligation of controlling his wishes, he drops his hands on your hips and moves you closer to himself with one quick, harsh pull. Warmth of your body was intoxicating, almost a Siren's call but in physical form. He even can feel slight movements of fingers that were now sandwiched between your and his chest. Honey, are you still trying to push him away?

"Dia.. It's wrong.." - And there's a Siren's call itself. Weak call that shows just how dizzy you are, how far away from reality.. A call to destroy your minds completely.

His hands squeezed your ass, pushing you closer and higher, on the same level to his face. Already on weak legs, all you can do to scoot up is just lean to Diavolo's body, letting him manhandle you now.

Somewhere through this fog in your brains you hear your own scream that beg to fight, to push him away. Somewhere through this wild burn in your body you feel some kind of fear and disgust, that telling you this is not a right way to do the thing, that something is wrong.. But these smacks of a little desperation were too weak to make a breach in the wall of thick, strange arouse that start arising in your bosom from such close contact with another body. Moreover, every minor thought faded away under pressure of Diavolo's lips.

It's more like he tries to devour you than kiss, pushing his tongue inside your mouth without warning as soon as you just gasp from his tight grasp on your ass. Rolls his tongue over and around your own, pushing it as deeply into your narrow mouth as he can, Diavolo didn't pay any attention to a new way of struggling from your side. Or maybe he feels every small push, enjoying it?

Tickles of the tip of his tongue on your palate sends waves of goosebumps directly in your minds, making your whole body hummed in response. And small vibrations of your moans titillate both you and him, boiling your already heated up minds.

Even a loud thud of the door behind you didn't bother you that much, and only when Diavolo pulled away himself, throwing on the mattress, did you wake up. Just a little, only able to realize you're in another room, with a big soft bed underneath you.

It's actually his bedroom that you visited oh so many times yet never leave your scent on his pillows or sheets, sitting only on the same couch every time. But right now whatever sense you got left in your brains wasn't enough to remember that, or even to panic from the fact you got dragged here and didn't even notice this. Everything was concentrated on Diavolo, who's towering over you, and on this burning feeling in your chest that makes it hard to breathe.

"You look so much better like this, darling." - It’s like a lover’s whisper but there’s a cruel, depraved edge to it that chills the heart. It’s almost like the whisper of a predator that knows its prey is helpless and won’t escape no matter how much it struggles. - "So much better with me, than with anyone else.."

The moment you weakly open your mouth to mumble some nonsense he gobbles you up again, no less but even more hungrily than before. Even Diavolo himself didn't know his appetite for you was so wild, but now, when he finally unleashes his true intentions, that doesn't matter. He can do anything he wants with you, and as long as he wants..

Every touch and kiss lewding you in some dirty, twisted way. Trails of his hands on your body were like burning sharp knives, like electrical discharges that increased this unbearable heat. Fragile whine in his mouth was the only retort you were capable of, but for Diavolo it sounds like some needy beg rather than a strong protest. You're not asking to leave you alone, you're asking to reduce this dizzying temperature in your insides.

Ripping and throwing away all your clothes sounds like a good help, isn't it? Your arms falling slack on sheets, too powerless to resist his actions, so pretty soon the only thing that hid your body from his sharp gaze was your underwear.

Just for a moment Diavolo pulled away to admire this new view that he imagined in his dreams for so long - round chest heaves with your deep, unsteady breaths, and your stomach rises and falls with each. Smoothest of your skin was on a higher level than any expensive, luxury fabric he ever was able to touch. And this scent.. No one of all incubus or succubus can compare with this throbbing seduction of your smell. But doesn't this mean he's the victim here, acting under the charm of your beauty?

"It's all your fault, s/o.." - leaning closer, he groans in your ear. Maybe you don't really understand what he's talking about, as every small brush of his skin on your naked one interrupts any incipient thoughts, but it doesn't mean he has no right to tell all these things that are stored up in the depth of his soul. - "Everything could have been different if you wouldn't be like that, playing and fucking around with everyone.."

He grabs your chin to make look up at him - eyes have taken on a distant look, and your lips are trembling, trying to breathe more.. Yes, you definitely almost don't understand him, only sligh shine of confusion and fear in your eyes through a fog of lust can be seen. But it's better like this, cause now you at least don't resist his action.

Long, wet path of kisses on your body, as if Diavolo tries to mark every small part of your skin with his lips. The closer he moves to your trembling hips, the more sloppy his movements get, and when he finally stops right in front of your waistband, heavily breathing, his kisses are more reminiscent of some hungry impatient licks. Hot unsteady breath makes you whimper again and you look at him with half-lidded eyes, confused with his action. Your body is being flooded with a mix of unreal arouse and some creeping fear. Maybe this drug was good enough to turn your brains and body into a complete mess, but something in your guts keeps screaming to stop this.

"Dia.. Don't.. S-stop.."

"Don't stop? Of course, my darling.." - a low growl as his lips are within a breath of distance from your clit.

He presses his whole face to your cunt, drowning into warm wetness and intoxicating scent. Thin fabric of your panties was more like a tease for you when he started licking your folds right through panties. Like some poor, starving for months puppy, he pounced upon your pussy like it was a sacred dish.

His big hands moved from your waist to your thighs, spreading them apart as you kept squeezing them together and bothering his fun. One warning bite on your inner thigh before he pulled down your underwear with his teeth.

For a moment your and his eyes meet each other, as if he gives you another warning to not keep being a brat even in such a state and just gives him what he wants.

But his visage started to warp, along with this stern look - you break. Moaning, you toss your head back and lift your hips, begging to continue. All last hopes and screams leave your mind, nagging, painful ache that was waiting for release, win.

"That's it. What a fucking good girl you can be.."

Leaving your legs apart, he moved his hand to open your labia. Small throbbing clit, and this clenching around nothing hole.. His own dick twitch, so hard and hot in his pants, but Diavolo can wait just a little bit more to play all his fantasies.

Nimble fingers up against a bundle of nerves, then upwards, enjoying every millimeter. Such a small thing and such a light stroke, yet your whole body hummed in response. Slowly moving up and down, then in circular movements, Diavolo remembered every reaction, every gasp and whimper along with sudden shrugs of your shoulders or legs.. Do you not love like this, and prefer like that? He'll keep that in mind for the future, when you wake from drugs just to see him ready to repeat everything.

His fingers get lower, playing between folds, soaking in your juices while he presses his mouth to your clit. Just a small kiss, as he squeezes a sensitive spot with his lips, but your voice immediately gets higher, hips lift even more, as if you try to find more friction. What a cute reaction.. Opening his mouth and sucking your clit in, at the same time pushing it with his tongue, he didn't move his eyes from your face even for a second, devouring every slight twitch of your brows or lips. The way you start whining more, the way your needy cunt clenches more every time his fingers pressed around your entrance… In Diavolo's mind it means only one thing - there's no way you're enjoying this only because of befuddling drugs, you're enjoying it because you're just a little obedient slave that waited to be taken in some harsh and rough way. And Diavolo doesn't mind to show who's your master now.

Even when he pushes his finger in, without any warnings, you didn't pried him off, but moved further, letting him sink inside you and he quickly added another finger. Are you so loosened up because of an aphrodisiac he also added to this tea, or is it just a normal reaction of your body when somebody is being so irreverent with you? Thoughts about you always being like this just for him, only for him, always ready to feel him inside you and being so obediently silent with your disagreements but so loud with your sinful moans.. It's starting to be unbearable for him too, so his fingers quickly get in pretty fast pace, stretching your walls.

"You liked it, didn't you? You liked being such a fucking slut.." - Diavolo groans, tickling your clit with a low husky breath. Weak gasp from your lips didn't sound like a good response, so he disdainfully squeezed your tensed nerves between his teeth, just a little, but enough to draw more pleasant to his ears high pitched whine from your chest. - "Keep showing me how you like that.."

Like if your body is drawn to follow the orders of the young Lord, you immediately moan again, but this time from a strong aggressive hit of his fingers inside you cunt. Your surroundings began to swim with every thrust, as your hips jut upwards in one rhythm with his hand. Pulsation in your core reaches its peak, making you shudder in agony of enthralling pleasure, before you cum.

Such a strong wave that it is almost painful, like some piercing discharge. Your muscles feel more relaxed yet your insides are not revealed but filled even more with some dirty coercion to ache and beg for another release, and then for another and another.. Like you never would be satisfied, feeling this yearning that is amplified with drugs in your body again and again. And Diavolo knows that, ready to use you, who's now at his disposal, till blackness would crowd in on your vision and you would fall into deep narcotic sleep… Or maybe even after that?

Low groan thundered on the whole room when his now exposed dick twitch from cold air. Diavolo leans closer and grope your waist, almost buries you under his weight when his flushed head glides down your folds and presses to your clenching cunt, mixing his precum with your juices. Your hips wiggled a bit to grind back to his cock and he can't help but smirk, enjoying the way you completely forget about your arrogant behavior and get so obedient.. so needy to his dick. Now he just needs to make sure to pound you so good that you will be like that even without any aphrodisiac.

Pushing himself deep inside your wet cunt, he froze for a moment. Not to make you get used to his pretty thick length, but to give himself some time to overcome his strong goosebumps from your tightness. It feels much better than he ever can imagine, than he ever can make himself feel with the calloused seal of his own hand.. Almost if he's the one who's being corrupted here, not you.

He starts to slide back his cock out of your pussy and then to slide in with more force, just to experience this tickle on the back of his head once more. There's no way he can be gentle even in the beginning, when you lewding him like that with these pathetic whines. You wrap your legs around his wait yourself, you just BEG to be fucked, not crying to stop. Even your grasp on his shoulders is just the way to show your desire and these scratches from your nails on his skin is just a passion, he knows for sure.

Hovering over you like a predator over his prey, he just starts thrusting in some aggressive speed, stretching your walls with such force it's turning your minds into havoc. More marks on your body - kisses, hickeys, scratches - he will make sure there's no place that he didn't touch with his lips or didn't grope with his hands.

But the main act that will reinforce his point of owning you is only in the future, but his dick already starts grinding from thoughts about filling your pussy with his cum again and again. And even if you would be too full to take more with this greedy cunt, there's another holes in your body he would be glad to fulfill to the very end.

"You were waiting for it, didn't you? Whining my name like a little bitch in heat." - he whispered right in your ear but even such close contact didn't help to get his words into your empty head. Your mouth moved on its own, calling him in desperate moans as you didn't know yourself if you actually started begging for more or still resisting his wild urges.. But did it actually matter at such a moment? As there is no escape from the suffocating delight of unravel underneath him.

Your pussy starts to spasm, ready for another breakneck orgasm. And you feel his dick grinding against your walls in response, spreading soaking precum inside you. Grasp on your waist was strong enough to break a bone, but Diavolo moved one arm to hold your chin in the same firm grip and make you look up at him. He just wants to see how your eyes would be darkened by another wave of pleasure, how you would look when he finally made you completely his.. Rough sloppy kiss before he slammed his dick fully inside you, shooting hot sperm in your cervix. Tightening around the base of his dick, your cunt was almost milking him, sucking every drop with wild pulsations.

Some sort of sore starts nagging in your body and you collapse on the bed, mewling for some break. But only a few seconds was enough to catch a breath to a demon, as he started moving again even in a more aggressive way, slapping your hips with his own. None of your whines never would be considered as asking to stop, Diavolo just doesn't hear any painful undertones on your voice, just some luring possession that resonates with his delusional mind.

His dick was stiff again, hitting your sensitive spot with swollen glans with every thrust. Hitting your whole body with new waves that turn you more and more into some dumb, empty doll for his wishes and desires.

Diavolo will make sure to turn you into some obedient cock slave through some good punishment for all this time he was the one who's missed you. Now it's his time to be in charge and make you beg, and yearn, and cry for him.. to make you addicted to his love.. or lust?

[just-come-baek]

ghosting you

Pairing: real estate agent Na Jaemin x entrepreneur female!reader ft. nct various nct cameos

Themes: 18+ | smut | fluff | comedy/crack | hauntedhouse!au (not in a scary way) | kind of exes to friends to loves!au (but not technically) | SLOWBURN

Word count: 27.1k

Summary: You met Jaemin about a year ago. After a night full of adventures, he promised to give you a call. He did not. Sometimes universe gifts second chances, but you didn’t really expect to meet again with him. Especially not when you decided to go to the countryside to flip the haunted house that you recently inherited. 

Warnings: cursing | casual drinking | mentions of ghosts (shenanigans) (again, not in a scary way) | trespassing | antique weaponry | mentions of weed | jaemin gets scammed | mentions of cheating | jaemin and reader fake date for a minute | mentions of human remains 

Smut warnings: sexual innuendos | teasing | a lot of making out | dirty talk | oral (female receiving) | fingering | spitting | unprotected sex (just don’t) | a blowjob | slight throat fucking | cum eating | protected sex (better) | scratching | love marks/marking

A/N those who get it, get it; those who don’t, don’t 😇😇 you know what to do ✨ heart, comment, reblog, anon, or/and support me

Jaemin groaned for the hundredth time when the engine again in his recently downgraded car died. “What a piece of shit,” he cursed as he hit the steering wheel in frustration, praying for the vehicle to start again. He was in the middle of nowhere, and according to the navigation system on his phone, he was about fifteen minutes away from his destination.

After a few attempts, the engine roared back to life, and Jaemin maneuvered through the dirt road. His phone started to ring when Jaemin reached a crossroads. Quickly, Jaemin looked at the device before he slid his finger across the screen to pick up the incoming call from Jeno.

“What do you want? I’m kinda busy right now,” Jaemin barked as soon as he switched to the speaker mode and changed the tab back to the navigation app.

“Just checking up on you,” Jeno softly spoke, unable to mask concern for his best friend. “How are you holding up?” he asked, and Jaemin bit his bottom lip in deep thought.

How was he holding up?

Not good.

Was he going to have a heart-to-heart talk with Jeno about it, though? Absolutely not.

“I’m fine,” Jaemin said, trying to brush his friend off. Focusing on the road, Jaemin lighted up the blinker and turned left, ignoring Jeno’s perturbed sigh. “I mean it. I’m the best estate agent at the firm. I’ll sell this hideous house and be back in no time.”

“Of course, you will. You’d sell a comb to a bald man,” Jeno stated, and Jaemin hummed, having no doubts in his marketing skills. Everybody knew Jaemin was the best. It wasn’t fair that one tiny mishap cost him the title of employee-of-the-month, which he managed to preserve for six consecutive months.

Anyhow, Jaemin knew he could bounce right back to the top.

As punishment for his foolish mistake, Jaemin was given a special assignment. If he ever wanted to return to working on the high-end apartment market, he had to sell what other estate agents called the unsellable house.

The estate was on the market for over ten years, yet no one had even rung the agency to check it out. The mansion was in the middle of nowhere, and frankly, the terrible location was the least of Jaemin’s worries. It was enormous, ugly, expensive to maintain, difficult to commute, and supposedly haunted. It was every real estate agent’s nightmare, but now, because of one reckless decision, it became Jaemin’s reality.

His situation was all around bad. There was no way in hell he would be able to sell it. Jaemin had talent, but it wasn’t enough to persuade someone to actually purchase it. If anything, he needed a miracle.

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later,” Jaemin hung up as soon as he pulled up on the driveway in front of the mansion. His jaw was ajar when he leaned forward to look through the windshield. The pictures didn’t do it justice – it was way worse.

With a sigh, Jaemin got out of the vehicle, leaving all of his belongings in the backseat. At first, he’d look around the house for any silver linings. His new work situation couldn’t be as bad as other agents were making it out to be.

Tentatively, Jaemin strutted toward the house, hoping it looked the same as in the advertisement on the agency website. The last thing he wished to discover was some mold or any other type of water damage. Nobody was interested in the residence as of now, and another obstacle was going to give him a migraine.

The moment Jaemin set foot on the porch, the wood creaked under his weight, and the doors slightly opened, startling him. “Shit,” he cursed, taking a cautious step back. It was strange, but there’s got to be a logical explanation.

Jaemin craned his head, trying to peek inside.

The building was old and a bit run-down, but it definitely wasn’t haunted. Even if Jaemin thought he saw something paranormal, it must’ve been his mind projecting weird stuff. He definitely watched too many horror films.

“Get a grip,” Jaemin muttered, readjusting his suit jacket before he approached the front door again, pushing the doors open. Not a single malevolent spirit jumped out on him, so it was safe to assume the place wasn’t haunted as other estate agents liked to joke around.

It was dark inside, and it reeked of dust. Jaemin couldn’t smell nor see any mold, which was a good sign. Immediately, he sighed in relief, glad there was a silver lining to his predicament.

Jaemin did a quick tour around the ground floor. The rooms were of a decent size. It was a shame there wasn’t an open floor plan, but the building was almost one hundred years old – he didn’t have high expectations about it. At least the ceilings were high. Regardless of how much clutter was around, it didn’t feel cramped.

Traditional houses were getting more and more popular. With proper marketing and a little bit of renovating, Jaemin could get people to bid for it. The building, despite its ominous reputation, had potential. Jaemin was confident he could find a buyer who would appreciate it.

The second Jaemin left the kitchen and entered the dining room, he heard a bizarre noise. It sounded as if someone had dropped something onto the floor in the basement.

“Not this,” Jaemin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. Quickly, he concluded that there must’ve been some kind of trespassing. It was a common practice for homeless people to inhabit seemingly abandoned buildings. “Can this day get any worse?” Jaemin muttered as he whipped out his phone, turning on the flashlight.

With a calculated strength, Jaemin kicked the basement doors open.

“Whoever is down there, come out! It’s private property! You have five minutes, or I’m calling the police!” Jaemin hollered, staring at the stairs, seeing only thick dust flying into the stream of light. When his voice echoed against basement walls, Jaemin heard a loud noise of a chair being dragged across the concrete floor.

Although Jaemin didn’t feel particularly scared, the screeching gave him goosebumps.

He had no idea how many people were hiding in the basement. The upcoming confrontation with them made him a bit anxious, so he quickly typed the police number, ready to dial if the intruders were to be aggressive or uncooperative.

A few moments later, a person emerged from the shadows. Jaemin squinted his eyes, trying to make out the trespasser’s face – unfortunately, in vain. The person was blocking their eyes with their arm from the blinding light.

“What the fuck?” You cursed, trying to peek through your fingers at the moron at the top of the staircase. You swore you’d smack the flashlight out of his hands if he didn’t turn it off.

He wanted to call the police on you???

The audacity of this dude, really.

You were just minding your business in your house. You were well aware it was private property because it was YOURS. He was the one trespassing.

“Turn off the flashlight, idiot,” you shouted, but the man didn’t immediately react as you expected him to. The dazzling beam was still aimed at you, so you decided to fight fire with fire. It was petty, but you had to get the message across somehow.

You turned the flashlight on before you climbed up the stairs, staring at your feet in an attempt to protect your retinas from the throbbing brightness.

“Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?” You yelled as you switched off your flashlight simultaneously with the rude trespasser.

“Your house?” He asked in confusion, and you nodded your head. The man was just as confused as you were at this point. “I’m Na Jaemin. I work at the Dream real estate agency that handles the sale of this property,” he introduced himself, and you narrowed your eyes at the man in front of you. He looked oddly familiar. Even his name seemed to ring a bell.

“Do I know you?” You tilted your head slightly to the side as you stared at his features, trying to remember when and where you had seen him. Prompted by your staring, Jaemin studied your visage, pondering over your questions.

For a while, you stared at each other in complete silence.

“Oh,” You chimed in as realization washed through you, making you giggle.

“Oh?” Jaemin asked in confusion, cocking his eyebrow up.

“You’re Jaemin,” you said, and Jaemin waited for your explanation since epiphany had yet to come to him. “You’ve changed your hair. It looks good on you,” you noted as the memories were coming back to you. In your opinion, dark hair suited him better, but Jaemin still looked handsome regardless of his hair dye. “You really don’t remember me, huh? We spent one hell of a night together about a year ago,” you hinted, hoping for Jaemin to get the clue.

Now he realized why your name sounded familiar when he had flipped through the house files.

“Ah, it’s you?” Jaemin asked, unable to comprehend the situation.

“Yeah, I am the girl you ghosted,” you added, and Jaemin twisted his mouth in embarrassment, scratching the back of his head, searching for words to explain his actions.

A little over a year ago, you met Jaemin at a convenience store where you had a heated argument over a bottle of wine and a box of condoms. A few hours later, you bumped into him again. You were both drunk and brokenhearted. That eventful night, Jaemin caught his girlfriend cheating, and you got dumped via a text message on your first anniversary. Without any doubt, you spent one of the wildest nights of your life with him.

He was a memorable one-night stand to you, and it hurt your ego a little bit to know he couldn’t recall the events as vividly as you. You had plenty of fun bar-hopping, driving bumper cars, kissing in the rain, watching trash TV, and fucking.

Even though neither of you was ready to date again, you still hoped you could stay friends until you’d sort your shit out. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be an option, either.

“You said you’d call me, yet you never did,” you stated, and Jaemin cringed at his past douche antics. When he got up today, he had no idea he would have so much shit thrown his way. At first, it was job complications, and now he ran into you.

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me,” Jaemin apologized, and you shrugged, giggling.

“Don’t worry, I don’t hold a grudge,” you said, and Jaemin sighed, hoping that the awkward atmosphere would dissolve soon. “I was a little bummed out at first, but then we barely knew each other, so yeah, no hard feelings,” you added with a genuine smile.

“Why do I keep meeting you during my turning points in life?” Jaemin pondered, and you creased your forehead, trying to remember what he was referring to. Back then, you had witnessed him at his lowest; was he in trouble now?

“Hey, if your girlfriend broke up with you again, that’s entirely on you,” you jested, and Jaemin shook his head, trying to avoid miscommunication. You weren’t particularly good at comforting people. The best you could do was to crack a joke to loosen up the atmosphere. “Don’t put the blame on me,” you added, emphasizing there was no correlation.

“Ha-ha, very funny. I meant work,” Jaemin clarified, and you sighed in relief. “Also, turning points aren’t necessarily bad. I chose this house as my next project. From this moment onward, selling this house is my top priority,” he lied, trying his best to convince you it was why he was here right now.

As of now, Jaemin was too prideful to admit to his faults and own the truth.

“What?” You asked in confusion, seeing right through him. For the sake of his sanity, you decided to play along. “Why would you do that? Are you out of your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you seen this house? It’s in a rough shape… to put it nicely,” you trailed off as you looked around your property. “Also, it’s pretty haunted,” you added matter-of-factly, knowing it was what usually put people off.

“I don’t believe in paranormal,” Jaemin retorted with a proud smirk. You rolled your eyes at him, expecting this kind of response. He hadn’t spent as much time here as you had, so you figured you could excuse his skepticism. “There’s no such a thing as ghosts, demons, or tooth fairies.”

“You must’ve been a grumpy child,” you interjected, giggling at your remark.

“That’s not true. As a matter of fact, I was the sweetest child ever,” he confirmed with a proud smile. “Anyway, haunted or not, I can sell it. Don’t worry about it. You’ve got the best agent working on it.”

“Nice,” you said, your lips stretched out in an awkward smile as you were unsure how to react.

“So… are you living here? Not to sound rude, but the house doesn’t look like inhabited.”

“Well…” you started, unsure how to explain your current living situation. It was a bit complicated. “My best friend suggested I take a break from work, so I decided to come here and renovate my great grandma’s house. I just started cleaning up the basement yesterday.”

“Ah, I see,” Jaemin replied, nodding his head as he registered the new pieces of information.

“It’s funny how I have a renovation company, yet I only helped others. It’s the first time I’m using my skills to do something for myself,” you added, sensing it was appropriate to mention your profession now. You wouldn’t want to piss off the estate agent assigned to sell the property. It was a good thing he showed up – he should’ve been notified of all renovations that were going on.

Jaemin gulped as he now realized how your presence complicated his situation.

At this point, Jaemin was royally fucked.

***

The next day at down, Jaemin was already in front of your house with two cups of coffee in his hands. He was to make an offer. (It was kind of shameless.) However, if you agreed to hear him out, this arrangement could be beneficial for you both. Jaemin would have a roof under his head and eventually return to his old scope of estate market, and you would get rid of the house, selling it for a hefty sum.

A win-win situation.

Jaemin confidently knocked on the door, hoping you were awake. Waiting for you to answer the door, Jaemin turned around and looked at the trees’ crowns where the sun was ascending. It was a warm morning – ideal even for profitable cooperation propositions.

Jaemin had been thinking all night. He was in a lot of trouble, and everything that could go wrong, went wrong; out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Although he came up with an impromptu damage control protocol, it was useless without your consent. His career depended on this conversation with you, so he needed to do well. He’d use all of his charisma to pitch this idea to you. He’d use every trick to pull you on his side.

Jaemin was dressed to the nines. He looked professional, expensive, and handsome in his best purple suit, a no-collar white shirt, and a pair of shiny leather shoes. He even paid extra attention to his hair and musky cologne.

It was all or nothing at this point. Jaemin had nothing to lose, so he might as well put all his eggs in one basket. Worst case scenario, he’d live on Jeno’s couch and find a no-skill entry job.

“What are you doing here so early in the morning?” You asked as you pushed the doors open, yawning. You didn’t expect any visitors. Not at the asscrack of dawn, anyway.

“Can we talk?” Jaemin softly asked, staring into your eyes. “We could help each other out,” he mused, and you cocked your eyebrow, folding your arms across your chest. “I’m bringing gifts,” he added, flashing the cup of coffee and croissants in front of your eyes.

“You should’ve said so!” You exclaimed, eager to hear him out. You didn’t have breakfast yet. And you had been hungry since the evening. “Should we take it outside? The weather is nice. Why don’t we sit down in the garden? Follow me.”

You led him to the back of the house where the cozy gazebo was. It offered a fine open view of the overgrown rose garden. You hadn’t had time to do any gardening yet, but it still felt enjoyable to sit there.

“Here,” Jaemin said, sliding one coffee cup across the table in your direction.

“So… what did you want to talk about?” You started as you wrapped your fingers around the paper cup, giving it a stir before drinking. “What is this?!” You asked as you spit out the suspicious liquid on the ground, coughing for your life. “It tastes like dirt juice,” you complained, pushing the cup away.

“I must’ve mixed our drinks, sorry,” Jaemin apologized, quickly offering you his cup. “Dirt juice should be mine. I got you a regular latte. I hope that’s okay. The local café didn’t have many options to choose from.”

“That’s lovely. Thank you,” you smiled, taking a cautious sip of the other coffee, sighing in contentment, and enjoying your hot beverage. “So… what did you want to talk about? I’m all ears.”

Jaemin explained everything as if his life depended on it. In some sense, it did, but he was going to leave that part out. You didn’t need to know that. With passion, he presented all perks of his proposition, gesticulating frantically with his hands to get the point across.

“So, in conclusion, you want us to join forces to sell the house?” You summarized his presentation, pondering over every detail he disclosed.

It would be practical to have an extra pair of hands if you needed help. Jaemin also knew a lot about the estate market trends – probably even more than you. In times of doubt, you could ask him for a second opinion.

However, did you really want to sell the house? It was always in your family. Maybe it was haunted, but it was yours.

“It sounds way too good to be true,” you admitted, taking a sip of your coffee.

Did you have anything to lose? No. Jaemin offered himself to help you with anything. He’d be by your side throughout the whole renovation process. You could let him stay in one of many guest rooms for, as he eloquently put, 24/7 professional renovation help.

“What can I say? I’m really devoted to my job, and I like a good challenge,” Jaemin answered with a smirk, showing off his confidence in this project. “I realize the estate market isn’t in the best shape, but despite its creepy aura, we can fix it and have buyers fight for this house.”

At this point, you couldn’t tell if Jaemin was overly confident or just foolish. However, all risk factors were on Jaemin’s side – even if it was a scam, Jaemin would be the only one to suffer the consequences.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you tried to read him to detect any time of deceit. If there was a façade, your smoldering gaze didn’t crumble it. For all you could tell, Jaemin was telling the truth.

“It’s a deal,” you said, stretching your arm to shake on it. There was no tangible document for you to sign to formalize this agreement, so a solemn handshake would have to do the trick.

“Great,” Jaemin said with excitement in his tone, rubbing his hands together, ready for his first assignment. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Well… I don’t have a set schedule,” you admitted, scratching the back of your head as you tried to collect all of your thoughts. “I arranged garbage pick-up for Friday, so I have to go through all the stuff in the basement and color-code what is trash and what is a precious antique. Do you mind helping me with that?”

“Not at all,” Jaemin beamed, ready to work his ass off for his success.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to change?” You asked Jaemin after you finished your breakfast. His suit looked expensive, and you didn’t want him to damage it. “It’s quite dusty in there.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Jaemin answered, brushing your suggestion off. “So once again, I put the red sticker if something is junk, and the green one if something is valuable,” he added, and you nodded. It wasn’t that hard, but you appreciated that Jaemin wanted to double-check with you.

“Yep, and if you’re unsure, just ask,” you replied with a polite smile, stamping Jaemin’s forehead with a sticker. With Jaemin’s help, you could finish the deep cleaning phase twice as fast.

“Am I a red sticker or a green one?” Jaemin asked, twisting his face as if he could see what was on his forehead with his peripheral. “Please tell me I’m a green one,” he added as he pulled the sticker off his skin, rubbing off the glue residue. “You gotta be kidding me,” he whined upon seeing red.

“Honestly, you’d be yellow. I don’t have that type of sticker, though, so it’s red for the time being. I may change my mind later,” you teased, sending him a smug smirk. “Anyway… Let’s go,” you said, pushing the basement doors open. “Oh, and if you hear any chilling noises, just ignore them. It’s no big deal.”

“Old rusty pipes. Got it.”

“Actually, pipes are in surprisingly good shape. I checked them yesterday,” you proudly admitted. Though the house looked rough, the plumbing was in excellent condition. “The ghost is the problem here, but I learned it eventually stops bothering you if you don’t give them attention.”

“Huh?” Jaemin asked, alarmed. Urban legends were one thing, but having a person admit it to his face was an entirely different story. He didn’t peg you to be into supernatural stuff, yet there you were, warning him of the ghost residing on the premises.

“Whether you believe me or not, just ignore them,” you added before you turned around to walk downstairs to the basement. “Watch out on the third step. It needs extra support, and I haven’t had a chance to work on it yet.”

“Let’s get to work then,” Jaemin hollered in excitement as he joined you downstairs. A light bulb was hanging off the ceiling, but it wasn’t nearly enough to illuminate the entire space, so you used your phone’s flashlights to see more clearly.

You worked diligently on your side of the basement. Jaemin, on the other hand, had a lot of questions regarding every single item he picked up to inspect. First, he’d ask you which sticker he should use, followed by additional questions regarding the item’s history. Was it your childhood toy? Were your grandparents really using it? How did it get here? Does it have any family value to you? Is it authentic? Doesn’t look authentic to me. We could sell it on Ebay.

You appreciated the effort Jaemin was putting in, but overall, you didn’t work any faster.

“You know what. I think we should change things up. I’ll be putting stickers on stuff. You’ll be taking the junk outside. How does that sound?” You offered, trying your best to sound nice. The way you were working together wasn’t efficient at all, so you hoped this little changed improved your productivity. Besides, Jaemin could make use of his muscles.

“Sure thing, boss,” Jaemin replied, glad he was given a different task. You were calling the shots, and both parties were content with that work dynamic.

***

“How do you feel after your first day of work here?” You asked Jaemin as you both plopped on the couch in the living room after hard labor.

“Sore.”

“You’ll get used to it. I’m hungry. Do you want some pizza?” You offered as you pulled out your phone to check all delivery options. You knew there was one pizza place not that far away from here. Besides, you and Jaemin deserved a greasy treat after the busy day at work.

“I’d kill for a slice,” he admitted as he rubbed his thighs, hoping it would ease the pain. He couldn’t even remember how many times he went up and down the stairs at this point – his typical workout wasn’t nearly as intense as today’s labor. He felt sore in places he thought it was impossible to feel sore in, so ordering a pizza seemed like a highlight of the day.

You showed Jaemin the menu, and after a heated debate, you decided on toppings you both liked.

“It should be here in about 40 minutes,” you announced the news as you put your phone back into the back pocket of your sweats. “Do you want to go choose your room and freshen up before dinner?” You asked, staring at his suit, which was covered in dust, cobwebs, and whatnot. You had warned him – it was his fault he had brushed it off.

“Would be great. Just give me a minute to go and grab my stuff from the car,” Jaemin said, rushing through the front doors to return with a leather travel bag within a minute.

“This room is mine, so you can choose any except for this one,” you said as you stopped in the corridor upstairs. At first, the house looks spacious, but once you step inside, you can get overwhelmed by the number of rooms. The second floor alone accommodated seven bedrooms, a bathroom, and a study.

“Any is fine,” Jaemin said with a polite smile as he chose the room across from yours. “Thank you, you know… for letting me stay here,” he added, scratching the back of his head awkwardly as you gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“No problem. It’s more convenient this way,” you beamed, following behind him. “I know it’s pretty dusty here, but let’s clean after dinner. The bathroom is down the hall, ready to use. Clean towels are in the cabinet next to the sink,” you explained before you walked out, giving him some privacy.

Jaemin walked downstairs a moment after the pizza arrived. By that time, you managed to clean the coffee table, grab some beer, and put on some random reality show on your computer, which would provide you two with some background noise during dinner. Hopefully, Jaemin’s taste in trashy television didn’t change because you’d hate to look for something else when everything was ready.

“Come and sit,” you chimed in, patting the space on the couch next to you. “I heard beer is good for muscles after a workout. I hope you don’t mind that I assumed you’d like some.”

“No, no. Of course, not. I could definitely use some,” Jaemin smiled as he sat down and cracked the can open, gulping down the drink. “It never tasted so good,” he added, trying to remember the last time he enjoyed the bitter taste of alcohol this much. “Should we dig in?” Jaemin rubbed his hands, opening the pizza box, and since Jaemin was a guest, he waited for you to take the first slice before he’d do that himself.

Greasy pizza, cold beer, and stupid TV show after a day of hard work – was there anything more one could wish for? It felt awfully domestic, but none of you dared to give it a second thought. After all, there was nothing really domestic about your current arrangement, so you chose to ignore it.

“We should get someone to check the electricity at some point. It can be dangerous,” Jaemin commented as he reached for the second slide. The lights were flickering from time to time, and it bothered him.

“I checked the power circuit when I first came here earlier this week,” you answered, chewing on your greasy meal. “Everything’s fine with electricity. The lights are flickering because of the ghost. It’s such an attention seeker, I swear to God,” you added, and Jaemin looked at you funny. He didn’t appreciate the ghost talk, especially after he had explicitly told you paranormal beings didn’t exist.

“Not funny,” he chuckled dryly, reaching for his can of beer.

“You don’t believe me right now, but you’ll change your mind eventually,” you warned him, hoping he wouldn’t disrespect the ghosts with his obliviousness. “When I was a kid, I didn’t believe in ghosts either, but one summer, my parents left my brother and me here for the holidays. It really opened my eyes.”

“I bet there’s a logical explanation, like rusty installation or a damaged roof. We just have to figure it out and fix it,” Jaemin added, and you giggled, enjoying this kind of optimism laced with narrow-mindedness.

“Can you stop?!” You hollered at the top of your voice, staring at the flickering light bulb. You were ignoring the ghost, but enough was enough. “If you don’t stop flickering this light, I’m gonna need you to chip in! If you wanna keep playing with the light switch, contribute to the bills!”

The second you spoke your final words, the light bulb exploded, casting broken glass all over your food on the coffee table.

“What the fuck was that?” Jaemin asked as he jumped onto the couch and tried to cover his frame with a cushion as if it was to shield him from anything. Although Jaemin was still hesitant to believe in the supernatural, the timing between the end of your speech and the incident seemed way too off to be ruled out as a mere coincidence. If earlier he had been bothered, now he was terrified.

“Do you believe me now?” You asked and looked at Jaemin, who was too stunned to speak. It would be for the better if you let Jaemin rest for now. He saw more than enough today, and you figured he needed time to collect his thoughts and process what happened. “Just go and get some sleep; I need you well rested tomorrow.”

Although Jaemin would love to help you clean up after dinner, he chose to go to his room. In his current state of mind, he wouldn’t be much of a help anyway. Instead, he decided to make it up to you tomorrow.

Once Jaemin was in his room, he exhaled. What the fuck was that? How could he explain it with logic? Blaming it on ghosts was too easy. He needed to figure out the truth to discover and fix the problem about the house. How could he sell the property if there was a chance of light bulbs randomly exploding?

Get your shit together, Jaemin told himself as he looked at the clean set of sheets. It wasn’t his favorite house chore, but he didn’t want to sleep in a pile of dust. He had no other choice but to change them.

So many thoughts were running in his mind, and all of them seemed like white noise to him. Jaemin tried to focus on one thing and gave it some pondering but in vain. The gears in his brain were working so loud that he almost missed the strange scratching noise coming from behind the wall.

Having thrown the changed duvet on the mattress, Jaemin walked over the wall, gliding his hand across it as he tried to locate where exactly the noise was coming from.

“Very funny,” he chuckled, knocking on the wall with his fist, thinking you were just teasing him. He was rattled, and he didn’t find your relentless pranks funny.

The scratching got louder and creepier, and it was the last straw.

Having lost his patience, Jaemin threw the pillow onto the bed before storming out of his room. Without much thought, he grabbed the knob and tried to yank the doors open, but they wouldn’t budge. Cursing under his breath, he tried twisting, pulling, and pushing, but nothing seemed to work.

“Is there a problem?” You asked as you looked at Jaemin in worry. “Has something happened?”

Jaemin couldn’t voice his surprise. You were climbing up the stairs reading something on your phone. You couldn’t be on the other side of the doors, scratching the walls to give him the spook of his life.

“I heard weird scratching, and I thought it was you, but it obviously wasn’t,” Jaemin tried to explain, but judging by your worried expression, you must’ve thought he was crazy. “The doors are locked. Do you have a key? Someone must be there. Should I call the police?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said as you approached him. Without hesitation, you put your hand on the knob and opened the doors. “I’d say it’s just the ghost, but you wouldn’t believe me, so I won’t say anything.”

“I don’t understand,” Jaemin whispered as he scanned the room and didn’t see anything worth reporting to the police. Was he going crazy? Was it just his mind playing tricks on him? Or was it just exhaustion from stress and today’s labor? “I’m sleeping in your room tonight,” Jaemin announced, but before you could react and protest, he was already dragging the mattress on the floor over to your room.

With Jaemin’s mattress in your room, it was a tight squeeze. You had to jump around to make it to your bed.

“Are you happy now?” You asked, giggling. You found this situation hilarious. However, if Jaemin was too afraid to sleep in his room, you’d let him stay at yours until he got used to ghosts’ shenanigans.

The reason why you were so calm about that supernatural parasite, it’s because you had your childhood experience and trauma. You were a veteran, and Jaemin, the new guy on the premises, was the ghost’s victim of choice.

After Jaemin calmed down enough to get under the covers and try to fall asleep, another series of strange noises erupted downstairs. Instantly, he sat up and shook your arm. Jaemin needed you to confirm that the noise was real and prove that he wasn’t just hearing things.

“Is that a ghost too?” Jaemin asked, challenging you. There must’ve been something wrong with the way the house was constructed. Or some kind of malfunctioning features. Someone had to find it and get rid of it.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like a ghost to you. You could differentiate several sounds the spirits produced to annoy you, and it wasn’t any of them. It was something much more dangerous – it must’ve been a human intruder.

“Jaemin, don’t panic. But I think it’s not a ghost, but trespassers,” you started, and Jaemin threw the duvet off his legs, doing the exact thing you told him not to do. “I’m gonna go downstairs and check who’s there,” you instructed as you walked over to the chest of drawers and grabbed an antique shotgun. (It was a broken replica, but it looked legit, so you hoped it was enough to scare off whoever decided to disturb your sleep and wander around the property.)

“Are you out of your mind? I’m coming with you,” Jaemin said as he mustered enough courage. He was a man, and he could be helpful. Even if he knew nothing about a hand-to-hand battle, he could dial an emergency number really fast.

“Fine with me,” you whispered, making your way to the doors, opening them as quietly as possible. “Turn on the flashlight on your phone,” you ordered Jaemin as he followed right behind you, practically breathing down at your neck.

With no sign of protest, Jaemin did as he was told, casting throbbing light on the stairs.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” You yelled the same exact words which you had shouted at Jaemin yesterday. Could people stop trespassing here? It was the second time in two days, and it began to seriously upset you. “Or else I’m gonna call the police!” You carried on, hoping your stern tone would intimidate whoever was roaming around the ground floor. (Despite your honest efforts, it would not intimidate anyone.)

In haste, you ran down the stairs. Jaemin was right behind you, ready to intervene in case of danger.

No one was in the foyer, but you still heard noises in the living room area. Quickly, you moved around, taking the intruders by surprise.

“Don’t move,” you shouted, raising the piece of rusty metal that a taken aback person might’ve mistaken for a legitimate weapon.

The pair who trespassed was shocked – they must’ve heard stories of the building being inhabited and taken a chance to sightsee at night. Too bad you and Jaemin ruined their plans.

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin asked, blinding them with the flashlight like a professional cop.

Despite current high fashion trends, they didn’t seem to be homeless. You doubted they were looking for shelter. If anything, they were giving you a we-eloped-and-now-we-have-nowhere-to-go kind of vibe. Or maybe they were some type of amateur ghost hunters?

“He asked you a question,” you urged them, waving your gun in the air. The intruders seemed hesitant to give you answers, though. “Do as he says, or we’re calling the cops.”

For a short while, they started at each other in silence. The couple knew they were in trouble. Hopefully, the boy gave in. “I’m Felix, and this is my girlfriend, Gidae. We just wanted to see if it’s really haunted. We mean no harm,” he explained, but it wasn’t a valid excuse for trespassing.

You and Jaemin looked at each other as if you were wondering what to do about the situation. They broke the law, but nothing really happened; well… maybe, except for giving Jaemin a little scare. And that wasn’t something you’d take legal action against.

“The doors were opened, so we walked inside to see if there were any ghosts here. We’ve heard a story that ten years ago someone got so spooked their hair turned white,” the girl added, trying to justify their actions. You didn’t really care about their motive. The mention of unlocked doors alarmed you, though – especially when you remembered you had double-checked the locks before you went upstairs.

The silence filled the space as everyone one waited for your verdict. They did the wrong thing, and judging by their expressions, they learned their lesson not to trespass ever again.

“Get out,” you flatly said, lowering your weapon, pointing at the front doors as if they might’ve forgotten where the exit was.

The couple didn’t need to be told twice. As soon the last syllable rolled off your tongue, they bolted out of the house as if they were participating in a race.

“Well… that was an eventful day,” you said the second the doors shut behind them with a loud thud.

“Eventful is one way to put it,” Jaemin remarked as he exhaled, releasing the deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Come on, let’s go back to sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day,” you said as you locked the doors and made sure they stayed closed. “If you open the doors one more time, I’m calling ghostbusters on you,” you yelled at the ceiling, hoping the ghost got the message.

***

Jaemin’s a heavy sleeper, but under his current conditions, he stirred awake every time you moved in your sheets. Although he was still tired, he gave up on the idea of another nap. Maybe four hours of sleep in total and a few cups of coffee would be enough to get him through the day.

The house seemed quiet and peaceful. Actually, your calm breathing was the only thing he could hear. There was nothing to be afraid of. Though he didn’t have an explanation for yesterday’s events, they survived the night, so there was no grave danger he could stumble upon on the premises.

You, on the other hand, slept like a baby. The moment your head landed on the soft pillow, you were gone. It was about 9 o’clock (about two hours after Jaemin) when you got up. When you didn’t see him, your first thought was that he had fled. You couldn’t blame him if he did.

You found him downstairs, though. Jaemin was dressed in another fancy suit, taking pictures of the house with a fancy camera. “Look at you, you busy bee,” you chipped in, stretching your limbs. “Any plans for today?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Jaemin answered with a genuine smile, snapping a quick picture of you in your pajamas. “I had a revelation, actually,” he added, and you hummed, prompting him to reveal his plan. “I checked the listing on the agency website and figured it deserves an update. I can take some candid photos and upload them. And later, once the renovation is done, we can post some before and after photos. People love these.”

“That’s a great idea,” you were quick to say, praising him. Finally, after years of stasis, the renovation and proper sale steps were taken to get it in motion. “But it doesn’t explain your outfit,” you pinpointed, blatantly checking him out again.

“Oh, I am going to the city to finish some old paperwork at the office,” he simply said, following you to the kitchen, snapping some more photos, this time making sure you were out of the frame. “Plus, I need to take my stuff out of the apartment I used to rent.”

“When will you be back?” You asked, sensing that Jaemin wasn’t about to go into great details. You figured you didn’t need to know everything. After all, you weren’t friends. Business partners at best.

“Around dinner, I think,” Jaemin answered, smiling at you. “Should I pick up food on my way back? You got us pizza yesterday. What do you feel like having today, huh? It’s my treat.”

“Anything spicy should be fine,” you casually replied, not craving anything in particular.

“Duly noted,” Jaemin smiled, making a mental note to get you something delicious. After all, you were practically his savior. “And what exactly do you have planned for today, hm? I’m ready to get my hands dirty when I come back.”

“I wouldn’t call it plans, more like a loose idea, but I was thinking I could deep clean and check kitchen appliances. It would be nice to have options other than takeout,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Other than that, I’ll probably finish sorting stuff in the basement and change the light bulb in the living room. Nothing too crazy for today.”

“If you need anything, just call or text me; I’ll get it on my way back,” he added before he turned around to take his leave.

“Jaemin,” you hollered his name, and Jaemin spun around and looked at you again with a quiet hum. “I don’t have your phone number.”

“Oh. Yeah, sorry, my mistake,” Jaemin sheepishly smiled, reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket to fish out his business card. “But seriously, tell me if you need anything.”

“I will, and now go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll return.”

***

“You know what, I have another great idea,” Jaemin started as he set his half-eaten burrito on the plate. “We should make videos of the renovation and post them online on TikTok or Instagram. We need good publicity, and people love flipping houses and progress videos. The shape of the estate market is not ideal, and it’s a cheap way to do some marketing. And if any of the videos goes viral, we can sell the house in no time.”

“It’s worth a shot,” you replied in between bites. “We can do that. I hope you have some specific ideas for the content. I suppose it’s not that easy to blow up.”

“Worst case scenario – we can turn this house into a tourist attraction, and you can charge them a fee for some ghost time,” Jaemin jested, and you giggled. Actually, it’s not that bad of a plan B.

“Ghosts aren’t real. I’m not a fraud,” you played along, rolling your eyes at Jaemin. It didn’t take him a lot of time to find a way to monetize a concept he didn’t believe in. “Anyway, finish up. We still have to take out trash from the basement and load the groceries into the fridge.”

After the delicious dinner, Jaemin washed the dishes before changing into more comfortable clothes to help you around the house. It was almost scary how quickly you and Jaemin worked out the most efficient routine to get things done.

“I ordered trash pickup for tomorrow morning. We need to take everything outside,” you announced, wondering if that would make Jaemin work harder.

“Don’t sweat it. I got this,” Jaemin proudly announced, getting strangely energized. He had a good feeling about this house. His motivation was through the roof. Nothing gave him a spook today, and it could be an indication that everything seemingly supernatural that had happened yesterday was just a figment of his stress-fueled imagination.

Before sunset, everything was ready for pickup. Groceries were put away, too. Jaemin even managed to record some videos to review later and decide if they’re social media-worthy. You still needed some sort of introduction video to summarize your renovation purpose. Nonetheless, it was good to record in advance.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Jaemin asked, ready for another task. “Or maybe we can do something that you planned for tomorrow? We could be ahead of schedule since day two. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“I need to change the light bulb, but I can do that myself.”

“Nonsense, let me handle that,” Jaemin excitedly offered, looking for the small box with the light bulb he bought at the supermarket.

“Actually, you need a permit to do that,” you pinpointed as you snatched the light bulb out of his hand. As a certified electrician, you just couldn’t let Jaemin climb the ladder and do that without proper training. “If you want to feel useful, hold the ladder. Who knows when the ghost decides to strike back?” You questioned, and Jaemin let out a few grumpy noises under his breath.

“I’ve been demoted to a ladder holder,” Jaemin said, carefully recording you. “Unbelievable.”

“Don’t worry. One day, I’ll promote you to a professional flashlight holder or even a screwdriver handler. There’s a lot of job prospects in this line of work,” you deadpanned, turning your head around to flash a polite smile at the camera. “Mark my words. You’ll make it big one day.”

“I don’t really appreciate your tone, but thank you nonetheless.”

***

A lot of things happened in a span of a week.

Jaemin uploaded a few videos, which didn’t blow up instantly. The clips got a decent amount of views considering it was a new account, but interaction with the content was scarce. And when people commented, they didn’t say anything about the house but rather about the banter you and Jaemin typically had going on. (Also, it wasn’t a surprise that the video of you changing the light bulb was the most watched one. All thanks to Jaemin’s great filmmaking skills. Your butt was taking at least half of a frame after all.)

As per renovation, you decided to do the mundane job of redecorating the bedrooms upstairs. One room at a time, you removed the furniture and deep-cleaned the space before proceeding with proper renovation. You had a heated debate with Jaemin about paints and wallpapers. Each option had pros and cons, and you ultimately decided to combine resources to create fascinating patterns and designs.

The ghost made its presence known pretty often, too. Since you were unbothered most of the time, Jaemin was on the receiving end of the ghost’s playful shenanigans. On several occasions, he heard a male voice calling his name from upstairs. Once or twice he saw a full-body apparition behind him in the fogged mirror. The temperature suddenly dropped a couple of times when he was showering. However, what scared him the most was the Ouija board – the same one he found in the basement after he had personally thrown it out.

Whether he believed in the supernatural or not, Jaemin had to do something because it wasn’t something he could deal with on a daily basis. Everyone had a tolerance limit, and Jaemin reached his. It was about time Jaemin got a second opinion on that matter.

“Who is this dude?” You leaned to the side to whisper into Jaemin’s ear, hoping he could tell you who that eccentric person on the threshold of your house was. Despite summer’s heat, your guest was wearing all black, including combat shoes and a leather knee-long coat. And he reeked of weed!

“Let me introduce myself,” he started off as put down his hefty suitcase on the floor and took off his hat, pressing it against his chest. “Nakamoto Yuta, the best medium in the country. Not my words, ‘Talking with ghosts’ issue 2, June 2016.” he bragged, taking a step forward to finish his introduction with a firm handshake.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked with a forced polite smile, having a nagging suspicion it was Jaemin who had invited him over for a house call. Not to be rude to a guest within his earshot, but you’d much appreciate it if Jaemin had run it through you first.

“My presence here was requested by this young gentleman, I presume,” Yuta explained, pointing at Jaemin. “Unlike the supernatural being that haunts this place. I feel something evil here. Has the entity displayed any violent tendencies?”

Naturally, you wanted to say no. Despite many ghost shenanigans happening inside the house, you never felt threatened. These B-class horror movie jump scares didn’t terrify you. After some time, they got repetitive even. However, you were planning to sell the house – the chances of the new owners being as unbothered and tolerant as you were slim. In the long run, getting rid of the ghost would be beneficial.

That being said, Yuta didn’t seem like a legitimate ghost buster. The only thing you expected to be gone after his visit was a few bills out of Jaemin’s pocket.

Yuta strolled around the house with his arms stretched out as he tried to pick up strange vibes. The strong smell of cannabis wafted into your nostrils when he walked past you.

“I think I made a connection,” Yuta announced, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes at him. “I don’t think it’s a ghost. It’s something more powerful. I suspect a demonic entity. Are there any records of supernatural occurrences in this house?”

You needed no more evidence to know you were dealing with a fraud. However, instead of calling Yuta out on his bullshit, you decided to humor him and play along with this bizarre charade.

“It may not be easy to get rid of it as they often feed off negative energy,” Yuta explained, looking at you as if the demon was feasting on your skeptical attitude only. “Don’t worry, though. I’ve dealt with demons before. You’ve called the right guy for the job.”

“No doubt,” you sarcastically replied, and Jaemin pinched your shoulder. Funny how tables have turned – suddenly, you were the cynical one. “I mean… let the cleansing ritual begin,” you corrected yourself and beamed innocently at Jaemin in hopes he wouldn’t try to pinch you again.

You were no expert in exorcisms, but you’ve seen enough horror movies to know that Yuta was fucking with the two of you. He burned some sage, mumbled random noises, and danced around the house as if that was going to send this demon back to hell.

“Where the hell did you find him?” You leaned in to whisper into Jaemin’s ear, hoping you weren’t loud enough to disturb Yuta’s Oscar-worthy performance.

“Maybe I should’ve carefully read the reviews before I called him,” Jaemin admitted, questioning his choices. If Jaemin knew Yuta was a lunatic, he would’ve never contacted him.

“Don’t bring people like him here again, please,” you said, giggling under your breath. When you woke up in the morning, you didn’t expect to be put in such a hilarious situation.

“Be gone, you devil spawn,” Yuta hollered at the ceiling, his body shaking as if he got a seizure. Yuta continued his theatrics, and you decided not to interrupt. “This house has been cleansed,” Yuta said as he returned to his senses and started acting like a normal person.

“You’re incredible. I can already feel a difference,” you started off, your voice laced with sarcasm. If it wasn’t for Jaemin, who elbowed you to remind you to be nice, you’d start clapping in celebration.

“It’s my job. I just love helping people,” Yuta humbly said before he turned to Jaemin to announce how much he’s charging him for his peculiar services. The final sum Yuta requested made your and Jaemin’s jaws drop.

“You heard him,” you nudged Jaemin’s side, so he would pull out his wallet and pay up. “You can’t put a price tag on safety,” you added, batting your eyelashes innocently. Jaemin was mad at himself for getting so blatantly scammed. Your unnecessary comments were just adding oil to the fire.

“That’s what I always tell my customers. Better be safe than sorry, am I right?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, smiling at your guest. “We’re really thankful for your help,” you added, turning to Jaemin, who was counting bills, ready to hand over a fortune to the con man.

“Yeah, I have no idea what we would’ve done without you, dude,” Jaemin added, stretching his arm to pay for the service. Jaemin’s grip on the bills was tight as Yuta reached out to take them. You could see regret and reluctance in Jaemin’s demeanor.

“It was lovely doing business with you,” Yuta said with a playful smile as he pocketed his money. “I’ll take my leave now. I have to make it to the city to meet another client. As we say in this line of work – evil never sleeps. If you know what I mean.”

“Naturally,” you beamed at Yuta, hoping to never cross paths with him again.

“Oh, I would’ve forgotten,” Yuta interjected as he stopped at the threshold. “You seem like a cute couple. I also do mating rituals. You know… to help solidify passion and keep the flame burning.”

“Seriously?” You gasped in excitement as if you were actually considering it.

“Yeah, you have my number. Just give me a call when you make up your mind, so we can schedule an appointment,” Yuta carried on, foolishly thinking he just made regular customers to his peculiar services.

“Of course,” you added before Yuta sent you a goodbye smirk and left.

“Don’t utter a word,” Jaemin spat through gritted teeth when Yuta drove off. As per Jaemin’s request, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you started to laugh hysterically. “This guy was high, wasn’t he?” Jaemin inquired, laughing as it finally dawned on him how ridiculous this house call was.

“As high as a kite,” you confirmed, unable to stop cackling.

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“I wouldn’t be myself if I did, would I?”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t be absurd. No one hates me.”                        

***

Thankfully, you were merciful and didn’t mention the Yuta fiasco that often. It wasn’t Jaemin’s proudest moment, and he was glad that you decided not to bring it up, so he could pretend it never happened.

Today, it was time to renovate the very last bedroom upstairs.

While you were already there, rummaging through all the things in the bedroom, Jaemin was still in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He’d join you in a minute.

Or five.

Jaemin’s phone went off as Jeno’s name flashed on the screen, notifying him about the incoming call. It’s been a while since they talked, so Jaemin figured it wouldn’t to be a short chit-chat.

Spitting into the sink, Jaemin answered the call, casually greeting his friend.

“Hello? Is that all I’m gonna get?” Jeno scoffed, acting offended. After Jaemin’s accident at work, they barely talked. It was really unlike Jaemin to neglect his best friend like that, so Jeno grew worried. “It’s really difficult to get hold of you these days. You don’t call. You don’t text. Damn it, Jaemin. You don’t even read messages in our group chat. We’ve all been worried. How are you?”

Jaemin felt terrible. He was busting his ass off to help you renovate the house, and at the end of the day, he was usually too spent to even check his phone. His friends deserved much more, so he made a mental note to update him every few days.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy,” Jaemin simply answered, not knowing how to brief Jeno on his current whereabouts.

“That’s it? Come on, Jaem. You can do better than that,” Jeno egged on, stomping his foot, waiting for a proper explanation. “What’s going on?”

Jaemin sighed, wiping the condensation off the mirror with his hand. Although he didn’t pay full attention, he saw a ghostly figure in the reflection. “Fuck,” Jaemin cursed as he turned around only to see the apparition was gone.

Typical ghost behavior.

As crazy as it may sound, Jaemin was already used to these unfunny shenanigans. An inexperienced person might’ve got a heart attack, but Jaemin only gasped and muttered a few curses.

“What’s going on?” Jeno repeated, growing more and more concerned.

“That? Oh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Jaemin quickly replied, hoping his words could calm down Jeno. Unfortunately, Jeno was still upset with Jaemin. “You’re not gonna believe what happened,” Jaemin chuckled dryly, knowing Jeno wouldn’t let go unless provided with the full story.

“Try me.”

While Jeno knew why Jaemin moved out to the countryside, he had no idea what happened next.

“It’s a funny story actually,” Jaemin started, scratching his temple, trying to sound anxious. “It may sound crazy, but I found her. She’s here.”

“Who?” Jeno asked, having no clue what Jaemin was getting at.

“Her,” Jaemin stressed, looking over his shoulders, making sure you were out of earshot. “You know… her. The one who got away.”

“Oh… You mean, the one you let go,” he corrected him. Jeno vaguely remembered Jaemin’s story about the girl he had met a year ago – you. There was something so unreal about the way Jaemin was talking about you, his friends assumed Jaemin must’ve dreamt you. After all, he was drunk as a skunk most of that night.

“Semantics,” Jaemin remarked, shrugging. “Anyway, this house… is hers. What a coincidence, right?”

“One might call it destiny,” Jeno suggested, and Jaemin snorted as he didn’t want Jeno’s words to get into his head. “So that’s what you’ve been doing all this time, huh. Your friends are worried sick about you, but all you’ve been doing is playing house with your old time crush. Good job, Jaemin.”

“You sound like Hyuck,” Jaemin pointed out, rolling his eyes. Jeno was exaggerating. “And I’m not playing house with her,” he admitted, though Jeno faultlessly identified Jaemin’s saddened tone.

Jaemin wished it was the case.

Jeno sensed it was a sensitive subject for Jaemin to talk about, so he decided not to twist the knife in his wound. Jaemin knew what he was doing, and if he ever needed love advice, he would call Jeno in a heartbeat.

“Anyway…” Jaemin cleared his throat, hating the awkward silence that took over the conversation. “I gotta go, but I’ll try to be more active. Sorry for making you guys so worried.”

“Sure, we’re there for you, Jaem.”

***

The unoccupied upstairs bedroom had been renovated, so it was finally time to start working on the kitchen. You were looking forward to this one as it’s undoubtedly the core of every house. However, when a stabbing pain in your stomach jolted you awake at dawn, you knew you wouldn’t get any job done. On the first day of your period, you often preferred to take things slow and easy.

Despite having more than half a dozen freshly renovated bedrooms to choose from, Jaemin didn’t move his mattress out of yours. The ghost was still very much present despite Yuta’s cleansing ritual, and Jaemin wasn’t mentally ready to sleep alone. Whenever you asked him if he’d like to switch rooms, he gave you an unamused glare followed by dramatic questions such as “do you really want to find me dead in the morning? I am not taking that risk.”.

Carefully, you slipped out of your bed, making sure not to wake him up.

You had a sudden craving for watermelon lemonade, so after washing up, you took a stroll to the farmer market. Thankfully, you had no problem finding the fruit.

On your way back, you stepped into a local coffee shop where you picked up a scoop of watermelon sorbet for you and a cup of extra strong earth juice for Jaemin.

“You should’ve left me a note that you’re leaving or given me a text. I started to worry. I thought the ghost evaporated you into thin air,” Jaemin hollered as he bolted out of the house on the patio when he saw your figure nearing the estate. “Or even worse, it could’ve taken the chance and zapped me!”

Jaemin was a mess when he was left alone with the ghost, especially before his morning coffee. With a genuine smile, you handed him the cup as a token of apology.

“So… what are we going to do today?” Jaemin asked after a few sips of his drink.

“Have some watermelon lemonade, and chill,” you casually said, walking inside. At first, you would rest in the living room for a while then prepare your delicious drink. “I don’t feel like doing anything today.”

You acted out of your character, and Jaemin instantly picked up on it. However, regardless of the reason behind your odd behavior, he decided not to question it. After all, you had been busting your asses off, so it wasn’t that bad of an idea to laze around.

So you did.

Having put on a crime TV show to play in the background, you were slouched in the armchair. At first, you didn’t pay much attention to it as you replied to multiple group chats you were a part of. However, you got sucked into the plotline of that murder mystery, trying to connect the dots and figure out who the murderer is before the police.

Jaemin was lying on the couch beside you, reading a newspaper, sporting that look of a middle-aged dad on a Sunday morning in the 1950s.

“We’ve been working so hard it feels strange to sit around and do nothing,” Jaemin commented after he finished reading and tossed the newspaper on the coffee table. “I almost feel guilty.”

“We deserve it. We’ve done so much good work,” you replied with a sigh. You and Jaemin had already done about fifty percent of the needed work. If you could keep up the tempo and not stumble upon any hindrance, you’d finish before the end of summer.

“Speaking of which, we get more and more recognition on social media,” Jaemin announced, and you hummed, glad people were interested in the property. “Your butt is still the star of the show, but we got some suggestions and advice. It’s a good sign that people engage in the renovation process.”

“I mean… I don’t blame them. My ass is amazing.”

Knock! Knock!

“Do you expect any guests?” Jaemin asked as the both of you turned your heads, staring at the front doors. Puzzled, you shook your head. “Me neither.”

“I wonder who that is. Maybe it’s Yuta to perform the other part of the ritual.”

“Very funny,” Jaemin said dryly, jumping to his feet. “I’ll get that,” he volunteered, and you propped on your elbows, watching the front door from your armchair.

Jaemin unlocked the doors and pulled them open, revealing Kun on the other side. To say your jaw dropped when you saw him was an understatement. Maybe he wasn’t the last person you expected to see, but he was definitely the least welcomed one on your property.

Having been cheated on by Lucas and ghosted by Jaemin, you put a halt to dating. But you still a whole lot of condoms at your apartment and plenty of sexual frustration to let go of, so you worked out an agreement with Kun to become exclusive fuck buddies.

You were content with that type of relationship. However, it came to an abrupt stop when you found out Kun failed to disclose one crucial detail about his relationship status. Thankfully, you didn’t catch any romantic feelings for him, or else it could’ve taken a serious toll on you. Your relationship with him was strictly physical, so when you discovered how much of a scumbag Kun actually was, you just cut ties with him.

Needless to say, Kun didn’t take it well. And once in a while, he’d bug you to reconcile.

Although you didn’t speak to your guest yet, Jaemin could sense the tension between you and Kun. He didn’t know the context, but he had no trouble reading your body language – you wanted the man gone.

“Can I talk to her?” Kun asked, tilting his head in your direction. Jaemin turned his head, too, trying to tell if you were comfortable enough to fulfill the male’s request. “Alone,” he added, giving Jaemin a quick once-over.

“No, you cannot,” you answered, offering him a fake beam. “We have nothing to talk about,” you carried on, trying your best to sound firm. You almost forgot that you ever hooked up with him. You didn’t miss him nor feel a need for him to come back.

Your life’s good without him in it.

Unfortunately, Kun didn’t come all the way here to let you reject him.

“Come on, don’t be childish. Let’s talk. I saw an Italian restaurant on the way here. Let’s talk there.”

“She said no,” Jaemin interjected, reminding Kun that you had no intention to comply with his request. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, so why don’t you take your leave.”

“I’m not talking to you, am I?” Kun said, glaring at Jaemin, not appreciating his input into the conversation. “Just let me talk to her alone. Come on, baby, don’t make me wait,” Kun demanded, and Jaemin clenched his fists, visibly annoyed. Jaemin got the ick upon hearing the pet name Kun used to refer to you. He wasn’t sure why he felt particularly provoked now, but he decided not to give it a second thought.

Enough was enough.

“Beat it, Kun,” you hissed, wishing for him to evaporate. You concluded that if you manifested it hard enough, it could happen. “I called it quits months ago,” you added, but you could tell it wasn’t enough to stop Kun. “Besides, I’m dating Jaemin now. We’re crazy in love, and we even live together now. And, as a matter of fact, we were about to fuck like rabbits on this very couch before you decided to cockblock us.”

Jaemin’s eyes were out of their sockets as much as Kun’s when he heard you. The men were too stunned to speak.

“That being said, I think you should leave,” you added as you approached Jaemin and grabbed his hand, leaning against his shoulder. “We don’t feel like being watched today.”

Jaemin was holding his breath, thinking Kun could call your bluff if he said anything. You wanted Kun to leave, and your bold statements seemed to be working in your favor, so Jaemin decided to stand by your side, ready to step in if you needed him to. However, you were doing great by yourself.

Kun wanted to say something. His lips were pressed in a thin line as he thought of the right thing to say to convince him to go with him. You belonged to a different man, and it complicated your situation. Though unwillingly, Kun realized he had lost. He was too late.

Without a proper goodbye, Kun turned around and stormed out. Smirking in victory, you left Jaemin’s side to close the doors behind the uninvited guest.

“What just happened?” Jaemin asked, still standing in the same place as if his feet were glued to the floor. When you didn’t reply, Jaemin carried on. “So… that’s who you dated before. He seems nice.”

“Have you noticed how he didn’t want to let go just because I said no? He only stepped back after I told him I was dating you. Isn’t it terrible?” You wondered out loud, ignoring Jaemin’s question. “I need that lemonade now,” you added, marching off to the kitchen.

Quickly, you picked up a knife, ready to chop the fruit into little cubes. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell you were angry and frustrated. In this state of mind, it was for the better to supervise you in the kitchen, so Jaemin followed behind you.

“Take it easy on that watermelon,” Jaemin commented, letting you know he was watching. “Maybe I’ll operate the knife,” he suggested as he placed his hand over yours. “I don’t need certification for that now, do I?” He teased, bumping his hip into yours, pushing you away from the counter. “Hand it over. I’d rather do it myself than have to drive you to the ER. You need a complete set of fingers to finish the renovation. There’s still so much stuff to do…”

“You’re right,” you gave in, handing him the knife. “Thank you, Jaemin.”

Skillfully, Jaemin cut the watermelon into pieces and put them into a blender. “You know… if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Jaemin offered as he reached for a colander and a pitcher. Expertly, Jaemin transferred the liquid into the pitcher and moved around to squeeze some lemon juice.

You remembered the first time you confided in Jaemin. It was over a year ago, and it was so easy to talk to him. He was a complete stranger, and you just dumped your relationship trauma on him, not expecting to see him again. And he did the same thing.

Now, you were friends. You felt comfortable talking to Jaemin. He was a good listener and was always invested in whatever you were complaining about. He even volunteered. (As if he had a choice… you were living together, and there was not a corner in the house where Jaemin could escape from the vicinity of your voice.)

“You forgot about the most important ingredient,” you remarked as you walked to the cabinet and pulled out a half-full bottle of vodka. Drinking wasn’t on your to-do list for today, but given the circumstances, a little bit of alcohol was justified. After all, it was your day off.

“I don’t think I did, but you do you,” Jaemin said as he stepped to the side, letting you spike the lemonade. Carefully, you tipped the bottle, pouring vodka into a pitcher, giving it a quick stir.

“Let’s enjoy our drink outside. What do you think?” You asked, and Jaemin hummed with a smile. You didn’t spend much time in the gazebo during the renovation, but it was a perfect spot for relaxation. No doubt the lemonade would taste extra refreshing there in current weather conditions.

You poured the drink into the cups. The watermelon lemon combo tasted incredible laced with vodka. It was a beautiful day to enjoy an alcohol-induced drink and spill the tea on your so-called relationship with Kun. Although you had already processed the end of it, Kun’s presence angered you, and now you hoped that venting would calm you down.

So you did.

You told Jaemin everything, and he listened attentively. He was really glad you decided to share that part of your past with him. After all, Jaemin had caught himself thinking about you a couple of times in the past, wondering what you were up to after he ghosted you. It goes without saying, but his thoughts were quite regretful.

“Are you kidding me? I don’t mean to be rude, but he’s a dick,” Jaemin interjected, getting a little bit agitated after hearing you out. “I mean… what was he thinking? He’s just so… despicable,” he carried on, trying to grasp the entire situation. Kun’s a pilot. He’s often out of town, but it doesn’t make it right for him to cheat on his fiancée. He’s got no regard for the one he’s about to wed nor you. It was really shitty of him to treat you like that, and Jaemin had none of that.

“I don’t have much luck with guys,” you sighed. Lucas was first – he broke up with you on your one year anniversary over a mere text message. Then, it was Jaemin who ghosted you after an adventurous escapade. And lastly, there was Kun, who cheated on his fiancée with you.

“No luck here, either,” Jaemin shrugged, pouring you another round of spiked lemonade. Whether it was your honesty or the vodka, Jaemin felt prompted to share his past too.

After the night with you, Jaemin really wanted to call you and meet again. Though it was too soon to start dating, he knew you could start off as friends and easily transition into a real romantic relationship when the time was right. Too bad he chickened out back then. It was a turning point for him – his love life after the encounter with your went downhill.

Jaemin dipped his toe back into the dating pool a couple of times, but it was never anything serious. Despite his earnest efforts, his flings eventually ended after a few dates. His latest conquest got him in a lot of trouble, though.

They never discussed labels yet, but it was the closest thing to a relationship Jaemin had in over a year. She was hot and so into him, he didn’t think straight when he was with her. And that made him do plenty of stupid things – like having sex in one of the high-end for-sale condos, for example. Too bad his boss walked on them with one of the biggest clients.

“You did what?” You asked, bursting out laughing. “I mean, I am sorry that happened to you,” you corrected yourself, still giggling under your breath. “That’s terrible but hilarious at the same time.”

“Yeah, please, go ahead, laugh at my misery,” Jaemin sighed, pouring lemonade down his throat. “Anyway, it didn’t get me fired. My boss assigned me to sell this house. As long as this estate is on the market, he doesn’t want to see me in the office.”

“Oof.”

“Yes, oof.”

“I’m aware how difficult it can be, but don’t worry. We’ll figure something out. Together.”

“Thank you.” Jaemin sent a contagious smile your way, and you instantly mirrored his action. There was certain softness to the way he was looking at you, and it made you all giddy inside.

***

When you walked down the stairs that Saturday morning, Jaemin was blown away. His jaw dropped as he shamelessly stared at you in admiration. Your beauty captured his attention. It was proper to compliment you, but his mind went completely blank.

Jaemin got instant flashbacks. It was the second time he saw you all dressed up to the nines, and he liked the view in front of him. In fact, he liked it a lot. Though he thought you were beautiful in your casual outfits and a ponytail, you looked absolutely show-stopping now in your tight dress. Jaemin could tell you took your sweet time styling your hair and applying make-up.

Who did you doll up for?

Jaemin wondered as he felt bitter, knowing it wasn’t for him. Unfortunately, he knew all he ever was to you was a roommate. Maybe a friend on a good day. Despite a few playful bickers, a handful of suggestive remarks, and a couple of sexual innuendos, there was nothing substantial between you.

He just stood there in black Adidas slacks and a matching T-shirt, ready to start working on the living room. Though he never discussed it with you, it was the last room that needed an upgrade, and it was safe to assume you’d get it done today.

His assumption was incorrect, though.

“Someone’s looking fancy today,” Jaemin cleared his throat, giving you a feeble compliment, cursing at himself for such a poor choice of words. He should’ve said you looked breathtaking. Or, at least, hot. “I’m guessing you’re taking a day off.”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” you replied with a polite smile. “I’ve got a few errands to run. And meet up with my friends later. I’ll be home late. Like 3 a.m. type of late.”

“What?” Jaemin asked, mortified. You couldn’t be serious. Although he got used to living with you and the ghost, he would never there stay alone. Jaemin witnessed cold spots and following shadows, but he wasn’t ready to face them on his own. You were Jaemin’s intermediary between supernatural and sanity, and he refused to spend a second in the house without you around.

“Don’t be dramatic. You’ll survive,” you smiled, giving Jaemin’s shoulder a supportive squeeze. Jaemin paid little to no attention to the ghost these days – he should be fine for a few hours.

“Just give me a few minutes,” he said, bolting upstairs 3 steps at a time. He’d rather stroll aimlessly around the city than spend a minute in the haunted house without you.

In record time, Jaemin changed into a semi-formal suit set and combed his hair.

“What? It’s the weekend. I have friends, too,” Jaemin defensively spoke as you checked him out.

“I don’t doubt that. They probably missed you. It’s nice to catch up,” you nodded, walking out of the house. “I’ll be drinking tonight, so I’ll take the train. You can take your car if you want,” you warned Jaemin as you didn’t want to inconvenience him.

At first, Jaemin wanted to offer himself to give you a ride. You wouldn’t even need to ask him to drive you back here – he’d gladly wait until ungodly morning hours for you if that meant you made home safely. However, if he was planning to meet up with Jeno, he would meet the other guys, too. The more, the merrier – as Jeno liked to quote. And if Donghyuck came, there was no way Jaemin would leave Jeno’s place sober.

“I think I’ll be drinking, too. We can both take the train,” Jaemin smiled, joining you by your side. “Just text me what time you want to return, so we can come back together.”

The train station was about a thirty-minute walk away. It was nice, but Jaemin felt… incomplete. Would his attitude change if he got to held your hand? No, he was getting ahead of himself. It didn’t matter because he didn’t want to incommode you.

“The last nighttime train leaves at 3:17 a.m..”

***

Jaemin was already waiting for you on the platform when you arrived. He was sat on a public bench, anxiously stomping his foot against the concrete. Although you still had almost fifteen minutes before train departure, Jaemin was worried that something had happened to you. Thankfully, the second you took a seat beside him, he could let out his breath.

“I’m honestly surprised. I didn’t expect you to be here,” you said, lacing your arm around Jaemin’s, resting your head against his shoulder. The alcohol must’ve put you in a really good mood.

“Why is that?” Jaemin asked, turning to look at you.

“I figured you’d return tomorrow morning,” you added with a shrug, not giving it much thought.

“Nonsense. You may be comfortable letting me stay there alone, but I am not. I’d never leave you there alone. Over my dead body,” Jaemin confessed. Jaemin’s care for your safety was truly touching. “I mean it.”

“You’re so sweet,” you cooed, squeezing his shoulder tighter. “Speaking of which, I got you something,” you added, showing him a see-through plastic container. “It’s a lactose-free peaches and cream cupcake. I know how much you like desserts, so when I saw it, I just had to get it for you. It looked nicer when I bought it, though.”

Brightly smiling at him, you handed him the container. The cream was slightly flat and smeared across the box, but Jaemin appreciated the gesture. You were thinking about him, and it made him quite giddy.

Wasting no time, Jaemin opened the box and took a bite. It was delicious – the peaches were sweet, the dough was spongy, and the cream was incredibly smooth.

“You want some? We can share,” Jaemin asked as he caught you licking your lips, your eyes fixated on the cupcake in his hands.

“Eat up; I already had two earlier today,” you kindly refused, letting him enjoy the sweet treat.

When Jaemin finished the cupcake and disposed of the container, the train arrived. You were about an hour away from your comfortable bed. You couldn’t wait to make it home.

“So… what did you do today?” You asked Jaemin as you two sat down in an empty compartment.

“Nothing special. I played games on a console with Jeno. When the other guys came, we ordered food and had some drinks. What about you? Did you have fun?”

“Plenty,” you quickly said, genuinely smiling. “At first, I met a few friends for brunch. I had an amazing panini. I have to recreate it at some point. You’re gonna love it.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Then I went to the office. My best friend, Renjun, has been supervising all of the ongoing projects, and I had to check up on him to see how he’s doing. If you ever see him, don’t tell him that, but I wouldn’t have done it as well as he did.”

“I will humble him down if I need to,” Jaemin replied, chuckling at you. Your friendship with Renjun seemed unique, and Jaemin would love to see your and Renjun’s interaction live.

“Heh, thanks,” you beamed at him, staring into Jaemin’s beautiful eyes. “Then I had dinner with my other friends. The main dish was okay, but the dessert was incredible, and it means a lot coming from me. I’m not big on desserts. But it was so good I needed to take something to go for you.”

“Should we order a cake from that place to celebrate when we sell the house?”

“We totally should!” You exclaimed, loving Jaemin’s idea. “Later, we went to a few fancy bars where the rest of my friends joined us. I’ve had so many drinks.”

“I can tell,” Jaemin playfully remarked, and you pouted.

“It was nice to catch up with my friends. You have no idea how much gossip I learnt tonight.”

Unprompted, you reported all of the newfound gossip to Jaemin, and as usual, he gave you his full attention. Although he didn’t know people you were talking about it, and your reportage was chaotic and had many plot holes, Jaemin still had a lot of fun listening to you. Your stories definitely made the time fly faster – a thirty-minute long train ride seemed to last no more than ten minutes.

“I am so tired,” you complained, trying to ignore the pulsating pain in your heels. You should’ve chosen a more comfortable pair of shoes. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get anything done tomorrow. My feet are killing me.”

“You could never disappoint me,” Jaemin declared as the two of you began your walk to the house. “Besides, we’re almost done. The living room is going to take us a day tops. I had some calls from potential clients. I may start scheduling house tours sometime next week.”

“Are you sure they’re real clients and not some random people who just want to take a closer look at my amazing ass?” You challenged, turning your head around to look at your asset in question.

“Don’t worry, your ass is safe,” Jaemin assured, winking at you, sneaking a peek at your butt. “I always do a brief background check on potential clients. I’ll keep all the weirdoes away from you.”

“Thank you, Jaemin. Your help here is unmatched. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re saying it like that as if that’s not literally my job,” Jaemin jested, gently poking your side.

“Anyway, I was thinking… it would be nice to take care of the garden before we invite people for house tours. Maybe it’s not as important as inside, but it’s still the first thing the client sees. I don’t really have expertise in gardening, but I’d like to try it.”

Renovating the house was fun, and you didn’t want it to end. The garden was in a pretty rough shape as of now, so it wasn’t that much of a lame excuse to keep Jaemin around. You were friends now, but you feared that once the house got sold, you could eventually drift apart.

“It does need a little touch-up,” Jaemin agreed, nodding his head. “I mean… everybody knows it’s the kitchen that sells the house, but it’s the garden that leaves the first impression.”

“We still need to do something about the ghost. Not everybody is as open-minded as we are,” you wondered, knowing it would be a difficult obstacle to overcome. No one, in the right state of mind, would willingly purchase an estate with a ghostly squatter.

“Oh no, don’t include me here. I don’t accept its presence. I suffer through it because of your stubbornness,” Jaemin was quick to interject, providing you with his point of view. “But I strongly agree the ghost needs to be evicted. I admit, Yuta’s house call was a screwup.”

“Maybe an exorcist could help. Like… a legitimate one. I wonder how long their waiting line is. And how much they’re charging for their services,” you wondered out loud, trying to find a way to get rid of the issue. “Or maybe we can get a new Ouija board and try to make contact. If we appease the ghost, its soul may find peace.”

“I’d rather die and bring the ghost to hell by myself,” Jaemin threw in, strongly disapproving your proposition. “Even if all the other ways fail, we will not be using the Ouija board.”

“I can do it myself,” you offered, ready to risk it and proceed solo.

“Maybe there’s no ghost at all. I’ve read this article about infrasounds. Basically, it means there are sounds that the human ear can’t pick up. Although we can’t hear them, they still may affect us. They can cause goosebumps, intolerable sensations, and many other things we may confuse as being rattled. If we find the source, we could turn them off.”

“That’s a cool theory, but I doubt infrasounds could blow up a light bulb,” you said, quick to deny his thesis. “Oh, it’s raining,” you quickly lost your thought as you felt droplets of rain fall on your head.

It was a warm night. There was barely any wind, and now summer rain began pelting down.

“Let’s hurry. We don’t want to get sick, do we?” You stated, grabbing Jaemin by his shoulder. “We’re like ten minutes away. Let’s get home before this drizzle turns into a downpour.”

“You know what I always think about when it rains?” Jaemin asked as he pulled away from you, making you stop and turn around to look at him.

“Why do your ankles and knees ache so bad?” You took a wild guess, bursting out laughing. “I’ve read that we may feel pain because of barometric pressure,” you explained, but Jaemin shook his head, quick to dismiss your hypothesis.

“That was a very good guess, but that’s not what I think about,” Jaemin beamed before he looked into your eyes. Typically, you’d feel bashful and try to avoid Jaemin’s gaze, but the remains of the alcohol in your system made you bold. “Whenever it rains, I think about one crazy spontaneous woman. She told me she had never kissed in the rain, so we did,” Jaemin elaborated. You opened your mouth in shock, not expecting this conversation to take such an abrupt turn.

“She seems great,” you replied, tutting your own horn.

“She is great,” Jaemin corrected you, making you grin. “Too bad I fucked it up.”

“If she is as great as you claim, maybe she believes in second chances, too,” you said as you took a cautious step toward Jaemin, smiling at him fondly. “Besides, you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re great too. I can bet she can see that.”

“What do you suggest I do?” Jaemin asked, nearing you. Your faces were only inches apart – if you leaned in ever so slightly, you could taste his lips. “Sometimes, when I look at her, I want to kiss her breath away. Do you think she would mind?”

“You never know until you grow a pair to try,” you teased, raising your arms to play with the collar of his shirt. Now, you two were breathing the same air. “Nevermind,” you added, rolling your eyes before you surged forward to press your lips against his.

Jaemin wasn’t shocked by your boldness. If anything, he was a bit pouty that he wasn’t the one to make the final move. His reflexes were just too slow.

Anyway, back to the point, you were kissing him.

At fucking last.

Jaemin instantly responded, melting into the kiss. His hands squeezed your sides, shoving you against his frame. You felt dizzy, willing to get lost in the sensation. Being held in Jaemin’s arms and kissing him just made sense, and the dripping rain only exalted the romantic atmosphere.

Your mouths moved in sync as if you were fighting for the last bubble of air. Eyes shut closed, impatient moans swallowed, bodies pressed tightly against each other, leaving no space between.

“You feel more bulky than I remember,” you commented, giving his bicep a playful squeeze as you pulled away for a second to catch a breath. (You were sure not enough air was reaching your brain.)

“Because I was the one carrying all that crap from the basement,” Jaemin jested, leaning forward. His hands held your face gently before he pressed a series of quick pecks, savoring the innocent affection.

“No need to thank me,” you smugly replied, pulling him against you into yet another heated make-out session.

“I wasn’t gonna,” he interjected before you slipped your tongue into his mouth, shutting him up. His hands ran through your hair as he deepened the kiss. His feelings for you were all over the place right now, and he hoped you could faultlessly identify them. (But if you didn’t, Jaemin would love to spell them out for you at any given moment.) However, the way your body was reacting, he was pretty sure you not only were aware of his emotions, but you also felt the same way about him.

“I’m so wet.”

“Of course you are,” Jaemin smirked, suggestively wiggling his eyebrow. Nibbling your bottom lip, Jaemin kissed you again in hopes the snog would blow you away and make you forget all about his lame innuendo.

“You’re such a pig,” you breathed out, playfully hitting him in the chest, giggling. Despite the brief nature of your touch, you could tell Jaemin’s heart was racing. Either he was really excited about the kiss, or he was about to go into cardiac arrest. “I mean… yeah, that too, but I meant literally. The rain is getting worse. We should hurry up home.”

“Let’s go,” Jaemin said as he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. You were about ten minutes away from the house, but it would take only six minutes if you jogged. Although you didn’t expect to do cardio after a long night out, you had no other choice. You had already pushed it kissing Jaemin in the rain – now, you hoped neither of you would get sick.

You and Jaemin reached the house in record time, and the moment you found shelter on the patio, Jaemin kissed you again. Though you barely dove into sensual pleasures, Jaemin was already starved for you. He barely had a taste, and his yearning could not be satiated.

“We haven’t even made it home yet,” you pointed out, but Jaemin interpreted it more as a fact rather than a suggestion, so instead of giving you space to unlock the doors, he pressed you against them. He was impatient and a bit rough, but you enjoyed it. A lot.

You were both short on breath, but it didn’t matter. Jaemin could have you squished between his firm frame and the doors, yet he still wasn’t close enough to your liking. Each kiss Jaemin gave you cost you a big chunk of sanity. You didn’t think about your actions – you acted solely on instinct.

Jaemin’s hands were all over you, exploring your curves. Shamelessly, you were rubbing against him. Due to your lewd ministrations, you could feel the erection grow in his pants.

Suddenly, the outside sconce lightning on both sides of the entrance started to flicker. It didn’t make him jolt away. Instead, Jaemin froze mid-kiss in his spot to look up at the malfunctioning light.

“For a second, I forgot we live in a haunted house,” Jaemin groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. To say he was fed up was an understatement.

“It could’ve been worse,” you said as you cupped Jaemin’s face and gave him a comforting peck. It worked like magic – Jaemin knew he was safe with you despite the circumstances, and it calmed him down. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get rid of the ghost. Even if I have to get an exorcist license myself,” you assured him, sending him a soft smile.

“Did you just call me baby?” Jaemin asked, and admittedly – his selective hearing did not fail to surprise you.

“Shut up, you loved it,” you deadpanned, playfully shoving him away.

“I did,” Jaemin grinned at you, stealing another peck from you. “Not the pet name of my choice, but you’re right, I did,” he added, staring into your eyes. “Anyway… where were we?”

“We were trying to open the doors and get inside.”

“Are you trying to gaslight me right now?” Jaemin asked, and you rolled your eyes at him before you turned around to fight with the lock. “I could swear it’s not what was happening,” he carried on, wrapping his arms around your frame and giving you a tight back hug.

“Well… that’s what would’ve happened if you hadn’t distracted me,” you argued back, trying to make a point, but you had trouble collecting your thoughts as Jaemin pressed a series of sloppy kisses down your neck. “Now, step back, can you? We’re gonna freeze to death here.”

“I’m trying to keep you warm, can’t you see?” Jaemin said, snuggling even closer to you.

Although you leaned into Jaemin’s chest, letting him crash your bones, you still managed to fish a bunch of keys out of your purse. It was tricky to insert due to darkness and Jaemin’s cuddly shenanigans, but, at last, you succeeded and pushed the doors open.

“Come on,” you urged, pulling Jaemin inside.

Jaemin quickly kicked the doors shut and locked them from the inside. Grinning, you wrapped your arms around his neck and stole yet another kiss. Paying no attention to your surroundings, you waltzed around the foyer and the kitchen, knocking down an umbrella stand and a few spatulas before he picked you up and sat on the kitchen island.

“We should take off our drenched clothes,” you pointed out, pushing Jaemin’s jacket off his shoulders, letting it drop around his feet.

“We definitely should,” Jaemin agreed, reaching to unclip the straps of your shoes. “We didn’t run all the way here to get sick inside,” he added, and you shook your legs side to side, letting your shoes drop onto the floor.

“I don’t think I can reach the zipper. Can you help me?” You coyly asked, batting your eyelashes at Jaemin. He found it suspicious that you had put it on without much trouble, and now you couldn’t take it off, but he decided not to ponder it. He’d gladly help you out of your predicament.

Jaemin leaned in and carefully pulled the zipper down. His touch was delicate, and it made your blood flow faster in excitement. It was shocking how responsive your body was to him. Giggling, you played with Jaemin’s hair, kissing and marking the skin of his neck with love bites.

“Let’s take it off before you catch a cold,” Jaemin urged as he grabbed the hem of your dress, waiting for you to raise your hand so he could undress you. Jaemin bit his bottom lip, looking at you. Though there was barely any light in the room, he could still make out your sexy features. The way he looked at you filled you with pride and confidence.

You were in only your nude lingerie set, and Jaemin most definitely could make out your hardened nipples through the soaked bralette. Jaemin, on the other hand, was way too overdressed for your liking, so when he was busy staring at you, you took your chance and undid the button of his pants. In no time, his zipper was down too.

“What? I need to make sure you stay healthy, too,” you smirked, shamelessly looking at his erection. The flimsy piece of fabric of his boxers didn’t leave much to the imagination, so you could admire and salivate at his impressive bulge.

Smiling at you, Jaemin kicked off the pants that pooled around his ankles. Quickly, he also took off his wet socks and undid a few buttons of his shirt. You could see his muscles as the material was sticking to his skin, but it still excited you when Jaemin stripped. His excruciatingly slow pace worked magic on your imagination, turning you on more.

Though Jaemin didn’t properly touch you yet, you were already wet.

“I need you, Jaemin,” you breathed out as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders and pulled him against you, smashing your lips against him. Desperately, you wrapped your legs around him and locked them around his lean waist. His kisses, although incredible, weren’t enough, and you were starting to lose your mind.

“I can’t believe I finally have you like that all to myself,” Jaemin commented as he rubbed his clothed cock against your folds, teasing your clit. “What should I do with you, huh?” Jaemin wondered, smirking before he leaned in to shower your neck and collarbones with rough kisses, which were most definitely to leave marks on your skin.

“Fuck my brains out, preferably,” you confessed, grinding against him a bit harder as current stimulation wasn’t enough to get you anywhere. “How can you have so much self-restraint? How come your cock is still in your boxers and not inside of me,” you blabbered out in hopes your words would urge him to wreck you.

“Patience, princess,” Jaemin chuckled as his lips traveled down to your breasts. “I want you to come on my tongue first,” he added, pushing the strong of your bra down your shoulder to reveal your breast and the hardened nipple.

Jaemin sucked and nibbled your left nipple, kneading your right breast. It felt nice; Jaemin’s sloppy kisses were keeping you lightheaded while the gentle clit stimulation was making your toes curl.

Carefully, Jaemin made you lie down on the countertop. The surface felt cold under your skin, and it made you hiss. Thankfully, the sensation was short-lived as your mind was hardwired. You weren’t in the right state of mind when Jaemin’s lips pressed against your clit.

His tongue was teasing your entrance mercilessly, making you squirm under his feather-like touch. Your juices mixed with his saliva, letting his long fingers just slide right in.

“Jaemin,” you breathed out his name with words of encouragement. Although his movements were playful, you felt pleasure slowly but steadily build up. Rather than focusing on making you come as fast as he could, Jaemin explored and learnt your body. It was more than enjoyable for you, so you were in no place to neither complain nor rush him.

Jaemin stroke the right nerve a few times. In response, you hoisted your hips and shamelessly rubbed your sex against his face. You couldn’t see his reaction in the dark, but your impatient movements made Jaemin smirk in contentment.

You needed something to hold on to. “I need more,” you panted, shutting your eyes close, letting the pleasure take over you.

“Look at you, squirming under my tongue,” Jaemin spoke up in a mocking tone as he pulled away. His face was glistening with your delicious juices. Jaemin could eat you out for days. “What do you want? My cock? Or will my fingers be enough?” He asked, but you didn’t care. You wanted both, no matter the order. “Good girls respond when asked a question,” Jaemin tutted, waiting for your reply.

“Anything, just make me come,” you desperately admitted, missing the way Jaemin’s mouth twitched into a playful smirk. He didn’t need to hear anything else. The anguish in your tone was no joke, and your well-deserved orgasm wasn’t a subject to fool around with.

“Anything for you, princess,” Jaemin whispered before he spat on your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. There was something unexplainably erotic about it, and you gasped for air when he slid his long fingers inside of you.

You were squirming under his touch, moaning in the rhythm of Jaemin’s thrusts. Jaemin quickly learnt your body – as soon as he found a sweet spot that made you squeeze around his fingers, he kept stroking it with the same intensity.

When you were seconds away from your release, Jaemin smirked and took your clit in his mouth, knowing you had no other choice but to come around his fingers.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you hollered, giving in to the mind-blowing pleasure that erupted within you. It’s been a while since you came that hard. Whether it was Jaemin’s fingers, your deeply hidden feelings for him, or a mix of both, you felt light in the head.

“I hope you’re ready for more,” Jaemin whispered, smugly staring at you. Unreasonable pride filled him when he could see you blessed like that. “You can take much more than that,” he egged you on, placing delicate kisses all over your bare skin.

“Of course, I can,” you added before you sat up. It was almost morning at this point, but a little bit of exhaustion wasn’t going to make you tap out. Besides, Jaemin gifted you a bone-shattering orgasm, the least you could do was return the favor.

Jaemin’s briefs were stained with precum. His cock was fully erect and it made you drool. You wanted to feel him in your mouth, to push him down your throat. However, the prospect of him fucking you excited you just as much.

You stared at Jaemin fondly, and he quickly leaned in and kissed you. While your lips were smashing against each other with lust, you reached down and slid your hand under the hem of his briefs, wrapping your hand against his erection.

Despite your dazed state, you could make out each vein across his hard length. You were wicked enough to wonder how it would feel inside of you, throbbing.

“Do you have a condom?” You innocently asked as you rested your forehead against his. You’d suck him off on a different occasion. Right now, you needed him to fill you up.

“I – I don’t,” Jaemin revealed, looking away.

You didn’t know if you were disappointed or embarrassed, so you chose to laugh. You didn’t have a condom, either. Your luck was simply absurd at this point.

You and Jaemin were standing there, staring at each other awkwardly. You had to say something and save the atmosphere. You couldn’t let such a minor inconvenience ruin the mood.

“Are you on birth control?” Jaemin asked, biting on his lip in anticipation, and you shook your head.

“I didn’t like how the pills made me feel,” you confessed, and Jaemin smiled, not needing more explanation. “It doesn’t mean we can’t do it. I mean… I’m clean.”

“Me too.”

“You could pull out,” you offered with a shrug. It was risky, but you trusted Jaemin. And if by any chance, he would fail to do so, you could always unalive him. (At least, in theory.)

“You mean it?” Jaemin asked making sure you were comfortable with it. Although you were the one to propose it, Jaemin wouldn’t insist if you needed a moment to reconsider your decision.

Jaemin’s tone was serious, and it made you shy under his considerate gaze.

“I trust you,” you proclaimed, genuinely smiling at him.

Jaemin couldn’t believe his ears. You were literally the woman of his dreams. Not only he had eaten you out, but now, you were willing to let him fuck you raw. Even in his boldest fantasies, he didn’t expect this night to take such a turn. (Or maybe he did. Jaemin was lonely, and dirty perverted fantasies were the only thing he had left.)

Right here, right now Jaemin could tell you how much you mean to him.

“I need you,” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes. Impatiently, you once again reached down, giving Jaemin’s cock a few cautious strokes.

Eagerly, you shuffled to the edge of the countertop, spreading your legs apart.

Jaemin felt stressed. He assumed you’d feel the same, but when he looked into your eyes, he only saw excitement and fondness. When you said you trusted him, you really meant it, and it made Jaemin’s heart skip a beat.

His hands rested on your ass, holding you in place. Carefully, you guided his length to your entrance, letting the tip of his cock smear your juices all over the folds.

“We’re really doing it,” Jaemin murmured rather to himself, still unable to process he was going to fuck you raw. His enthusiasm was through the roof.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, mischievously nibbling his earlobe. His cock was brushing across your soaked folds; he just needed to thrust to completely feel you. “Please,” you begged, and Jaemin lost his cool, pushing all the way in with a loud moan – it was insane of him to let out such a guttural animalistic sound.

“Fuck,” he panted, feeling a bit overwhelmed with how warm and tight you felt. It’s safe to say Jaemin started to lose his mind. He remained still, letting you adjust to his size.

“Yes,” you breathed out against his skin, peppering his neck and jaw with featherlike pecks. You could feel him throbbing inside, and your pleas for him to move left your mouth like a chant.

At first, Jaemin’s thrusts were slow and precise. The way you were moaning his name drove him crazy, making him pick up his pace, testing out how loud you could go. Your kisses were sloppy, teeth clashing, bit biting. Rather than focus, Jaemin gave into the sensations, quickly falling out of his steady rhythm.

“Just like that, Jaemin, please, keep going,” you hollered, feeling another orgasm approach.

Upon hearing you, Jaemin tried his best to maintain his tempo. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he pounded inside of you.

“Fuck,” Jaemin huffed under his breath as he felt your walls tighten around his erection. He was close too, but he needed to take you to your release first. It would be too easy to come inside you right now, but he had made a promise and he intended to keep it.

Your moans mixed with his and the lewd sounds of skin slapping resonated in your ears like a sinful song. All of your senses were overloaded. One more powerful push later you were coming around Jaemin’s cock. At the top of your voice, you moaned his name as pleasure crushed you.

“That’s right, princess, fuck–” Jaemin cooed as he pulled away, his hand instantly reaching his erection, rubbing it ferociously until completion. Uncontrollably, ropes of cum spurted all over your stomach and breasts and his hands. It was a mess, but neither of you cared.

You were spent.

Jaemin fucked you so well you could just drop onto the countertop and fall asleep right there. The lazy part of you felt tempted to do that. However, a quick shower and warm sheets sounded heavenly right now, especially if Jaemin decided to join you.

“We made quite a mess,” you laughed, looking down at your stomach all covered in Jaemin’s cum.

“We certainly did,” Jaemin agreed, swift to match your energy, unable to resist your contagious chuckles. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he added as he took your hands in his, assisting you when you jumped off the countertop.

Rather than going rough, you and Jaemin had given in to raw passion, so when you landed on your feet and wobbled a bit, you were taken aback. Jaemin, on the other hand, seemed pleased. It was evidence, proving how incredibly he fucked you, and he was unreasonably smug about it.

“Let’s go,” you said, pulling Jaemin along with you. Your grip on his wrist wasn’t strong, so Jaemin managed to wiggle his hand out with a simple jerk. Quickly, you looked at his hand, wondering if you completely misread the situation. Thankfully, before you got to get ahead of yourself and overthink, Jaemin smirked, throwing you over his shoulder, and carrying you to the bathroom.

***

As much tempting as it was to go another round in the bathtub, you and Jaemin kept your hands to themselves. (Or at least, in a sexual type of way.) Water splashed all over the bathroom floor as you both tried to fit inside the tub, but you couldn’t care less. It’d dry up in no time.

Quickly, you put on clean panties and threw a loose soft T-shirt over your head. You were so tired you had no idea how you managed to get to your bed. You nearly tripped over Jaemin’s mattress that was still lying on the floor next to your bed frame.

“Finally,” you huffed as you plopped onto the bed, crawling under the sheets. Your eyes were closed, and Jaemin tried to be as quiet as a mouse, trying not to wake you up. Thankfully, you weren’t fully asleep yet, so when you heard him shuffle around his mattress, you were quick to scold him and invite him to lie next to you.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to,” Jaemin whispered, but you only yanked him down, making him ungraciously fall on the bed.

“Shut up and cuddle me,” you ordered, wrapping his arms around your frame. Your back was pressed against his chest as you snuggled closer. “It’s after dawn already, let’s go to sleep.”

***

You woke up about three hours later fully energized, ready to seize the day. You had no idea why, but your body always reacted like that after a night out. Though at first, you considered it a curse, now it felt more like a blessing.

Carefully, you turned around to see Jaemin sleeping soundly right next to you. All things you had done last night weren’t a feverish dream – you still very much could feel his lingering touch.

Despite your newfound energy, you decided to stay in bed. It was warm and comfortable, and there was nothing urgent that required your participation.

Rays of sunshine poured into the room, yet it wasn’t enough to wake Jaemin up.

“Good morning,” Jaemin whispered in a raspy tone as he stretched his limbs.

“You’re awake?” You asked in shock as you didn’t expect him to get up before noon.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” Jaemin teased, his hand searching for your butt, pulling you closer to him. “What are you thinking about? My eyes are closed but I still can hear the gears in your brain shift.”

“Us,” you vaguely stated, biting your lips. Though you felt in your guts there wasn’t a one-time thing, the possibility of you misreading the circumstances existed. You were sure Jaemin reciprocated your feelings, but it was better to openly talk about it instead of avoiding the subject.

“Oh boy,” Jaemin started, giggling quietly. Although he seemed cool and collected, he was panicking on the inside. “I want you so so bad,” he confessed, staring into your eyes with honesty and softness. Quickly, his hands found yours under the duvet, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“I want you too,” you admitted. Your lips were curved in a wide smile as you couldn’t hide your elation. Thankfully, you and Jaemin were on the same wavelength.

“Should we go on a date today?” Jaemin wondered, already thinking where he could take you out. There wasn’t much to do around here, and he didn’t feel like going all the way to the city two days in a row. Besides, on Sundays, the trains didn’t take off as often as on weekdays.

“I’d really like that,” you replied, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. “Let’s do that.”

***

“I have a strange déjà vu moment right now,” you said as you and Jaemin stopped in front of a shelf with condoms. You remembered that day vividly. Back then, you had spited him, throwing all condoms in your shopping basket, leaving him empty-handed. Now, the scene looked completely different.

First of all, you came together to do grocery shopping. (There wasn’t much to do on a Sunday afternoon in this provincial countryside, so you and Jaemin decided to rain-check your official date.)

Usually, either one of you would take care of groceries on the way back from somewhere, so it felt genuinely nice to shop together.

You were awfully domestic – holding hands, throwing each other’s favorite snacks to the basket.

“Don’t remind me,” Jaemin shook at the memory. “It’s both the best and worst day of my life,” he admitted, cringing at his memory. He was devastated after catching his girlfriend cheat on him. By chance, he met you, and you dragged him to a night full of unexpected adventures. Unfortunately, he messed up big time by ghosting you later.

“So that’s where the bar is,” you wondered, naughty scenarios clouding your mind. Smirking at him, you picked up a few condom packages and threw them into the basket. “We can easily top that.”

“I never doubted that,” he added, pressing a quick peck, hoping he didn’t make anyone uncomfortable with his impulsive public display of affection. “Today has a lot of potential,” he teased before adding a few extra condom packages to the basket.

You could feel warmth creep up to your cheeks as your mind came up with a few lewd scenarios. There were so many of them, you knew you could only perform a fraction of them tonight.

“Is that all?” You asked, tilting your head towards the basket, peeking inside to see if you found all items on your mental shopping list. Apparently, your list consisted only of condoms, carbonated drinks, and many other types of comfort food.

“I think we’ve run out of mouthwash. Let me go get it real quick,” Jaemin volunteered, marching away to the alley with oral hygiene. “Meet me at the cash register in two,” he hollered before he completely disappeared out of your sight.

“Idiot,” you muttered under your breath, giggling. The oral hygiene section was two alleys to the left, and Jaemin just turned to the right. “Adorable.”

***

It was definitely the laziest day yet. Except for a short trip to the supermarket, you didn’t do much. However, you still loved every second spent in Jaemin’s presence.

Currently, all types of unhealthy snacks were laid out on the coffee table in case either of you felt a sudden craving for something sweet, sour, spicy, or salty. You were chilling on the couch, your bodies entwined together. A crime show was on TV, but neither of you paid much attention to what was being aired. Mindless cuddles with Jaemin seemed much more fun. His large hands traveled all over your body. His fingers were drawing various shapes on your exposed skin. Except for a few times when Jaemin slid his arm under your shirt to grope your breast, his ministrations were rather virtuous.

“I’m gonna make myself some tea. Would you like some?” You announced as you wriggled out of Jaemin’s hold. All the sugar and salt you had consumed made you thirsty for something healthy.

“I’d love some coffee if it’s not a problem,” Jaemin said, and you smiled, shaking your head. Although you wondered what he might’ve needed caffeine for this late, you decided to fulfill his request as it didn’t really make that much of a difference.

“Of course not; I’ll be right back,” you smiled before you quickly shuffled to the kitchen.

You were gone for maybe five minutes, but it was enough for Jaemin to get completely sucked into the plot. Carefully, you placed the mugs on the coffee table, trying not to walk into Jaemin’s line of vision. After all, Jaemin looked really handsome when he was focused on something.

With a sigh, you sat down on the floor, resting your back against the couch. A fuzzy carpet felt comfortable, and it was easier for you to reach the mug with your tea.

“It’s so fun to do nothing with you,” you commented as you leaned to the side, resting your head against his knee. Jaemin only hummed, reciprocating the feeling.

Dolce far niente.

You tried watching television, but you were unable to focus as much as Jaemin. While he barely blinked, trying not to miss a single frame, you were sighing, waiting for something to pull you in.

Unfortunately, it didn’t.

Jaemin was more interesting, so that’s where you fixated your eyes at. His hair was messy. He was wearing a pair of black tracksuit pants and a white T-shirt. He looked like any other dude, but in your eyes, he was just radiating attractiveness. Maybe it was a bit pathetic, but Jaemin didn’t even try to make you drool.

“Jaemin,” you cooed in a suspiciously sweet tone, and Jaemin looked at you softly, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to guess what you were up to.

Thankfully, Jaemin couldn’t read your mind. Your thoughts consisted only of his cock and your mouth, and you could swear some of them were so obscene, Jaemin would shy away.

“What are you think about, princess?” Jaemin asked, and you absentmindedly touched his thigh, running your hand up and down his tensed muscles.

“I’d rather show you instead,” you eagerly said as you fumbled to sit comfortably between his legs. Your chin was nested in your hands as your elbows dug into the couch right next to Jaemin’s crotch. Smirking, you looked into Jaemin’s eyes. Whatever you wanted to imply, he was into it.

Jaemin was too stunned to speak; staring at you, Jaemin gulped, waiting for your move.

You placed your hands on his knees, slowly rubbing his muscles upwards as you wondered if it was enough to make him squirm. Audaciously, you cupped his cock through the fabric until you could feel him harden under your touch.

Jaemin’s breaths were short and shallow. His eyes were focused on your lips, which glistened in the faint light after you seductively licked them. Though you barely started working him up, Jaemin already wondered how deep you were to take him.

Smirking, you hooked your fingers under the hem of his sweatpants and boxers. Jaemin quietly hissed as he didn’t expect your digits to feel so cold against his skin.

“I want you in my mouth so bad I can’t bring myself to tease you. It’s crazy,” you admitted before you freed Jaemin’s cock with one fluid yank. His sweatpants and boxers pooled around his ankles, but your full attention was on his cock that sprung out of Jaemin’s undergarments, almost fully ready for action.

Impatiently, you wrapped your left hand around the base of his cock, giving it a few circular strokes before you leaned forward and placed a few gentle pecks on the tip. You could feel faint throbbing under your touch as you slowly trailed wet kisses down his length.

“It looks like teasing to me, though,” Jaemin commented as he dug his fingers in his thigh, trying his best not to move, giving you a chance to please him the way you wanted to. He could thrust his hips upwards and force himself into your mouth, but what’s the fun in that?

Ignoring his comment, you ran your tongue along the veins of his cock, leaving as much saliva as you could to help you get rid of friction.

Jaemin puffed under his breath as he watched you gently pump his shaft. You used your hands while your tongue messaged the tip, spreading the precum around.

“Oh baby,” Jaemin gasped, slowing losing his mind. Gently, Jaemin ran his hand through your hair, keeping it out of your face, so he could have a clear sight on your lips that were wrapped around his rock hard length. “You’re killing me,” Jaemin quietly moaned as he thought it wasn’t a terrible way to go. “Spit on it,” he ordered, biting his lips, trying to guess if you’d actually do it.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Smirking, you spat on his length, coating it with your saliva to allow smooth movement. Eagerly, you rubbed his cock, applying enough force to get him writhe.

His muscles were tense, his cock was throbbing. Your eyes focused on its red tip as you leaned and enveloped your lips around it, giving it a few cautious sucks.

You bobbed your head up and down his cock, taking more and more of him. Your hands cupped his balls, gently squeezing and tugging them – just enough to get Jaemin to moan your name like a mantra.

Jaemin tried to control himself, but you still could feel his perfunctory thrusts. You didn’t really mind them. You enjoyed sucking him off and how responsive he was to your touch – there was a high chance you’d like it a bit more if he lost his cool and became a little rough.

“You take me so well,” Jaemin breathed out when you lowered your head and hollowed your cheeks. “Fuck,” he cursed, unable to stay still. He was so close he couldn’t think straight. As selfish as it sounded, right now, the only thing on his mind was his release. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” he apologized when his hips involuntarily jolted upwards, pushing his cock down your throat until your nose brushed against his pubic bone.  

If it wasn’t for the dick in your mouth, you’d tell him there’s nothing to worry about. You couldn’t blame him for giving in to the pleasure. Tears prickled in your eyes after the sudden shove, but you still relished it.

Your throat was relaxed as you took all of him in, your tongue pressed against his prominent vein. Your hands played with his balls. His orgasm was near, and you wanted him to come in your mouth.

Jaemin’s breaths were shallow and uneven. His eyes were shut close as he hoisted his hips a couple of times before reaching his peak. At the top of his voice, Jaemin shouted your name along with a dozen swear words as he shot his load, white ropes of his release stained your tongue, lips, and chin.

Staring at his fucked out face, you swallowed his cum. With the tip of your tongue, you licked your lips clean. The remaining evidence of his release, you wiped with the back of your hand.

“I don’t deserve you,” Jaemin confessed as he stared down at you, looking for your hand to entwine with his. “Come here,” he cooed, helping you climb on his thighs.

You wanted to communicate so many things. However, all your mind could come up with was confessions, and you figured the timing wasn’t ideal. You didn’t want to profess your love for him when you could still feel the lingering salty taste of his cum on your tongue, so you settled on comfortable silence.

Jaemin placed his hands on your butt as he yanked you against his chest, pressing kisses all over your neck and jaw. You tried to wriggle out of his hug as you felt ticklish, but Jaemin only tightened his arms around you. Although Jaemin was a bit mean, you both were happy, laughing until your stomachs began to hurt.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you again,” Jaemin admitted as you smugly smiled, mentally counting time for Jaemin’s cock to get hard again.

“Me too,” you added as you wrapped your hands around Jaemin’s neck, playing with his fluffy hair. Jaemin’s cock was under you – you were rubbing yourself against it, and even though your clothes were in the way, you could feel it grow due to your impatient movements.

“Aren’t you desperate?” Jaemin sneered, watching your hips repetitively brush against his length. You were horny for him, and it made his ego skyrocket.

“Only for you,” you added, fueling his fervor.

Jaemin’s had enough of your teasing. Right now, he needed you as much as you needed him. Heaving a deep sigh, Jaemin grabbed your butt and picked you up, tossing your frame on the couch. You were taken aback – you expected another love making session. You assumed it’d take a while for him to unleash the inner beast and manhandle you like a lustful caveman.

You were wrong, and this time, you didn’t mind.

Gasping in shock, you lay on your back and watched Jaemin situate himself between your spread legs. Impatiently, he got rid of your clothes. In a matter of seconds, you were bare in front of him, looking beautiful as ever.

“Your panties are so wet as if you came when sucking me off? Were you that turned on?” Jaemin asked as he inspected your undergarment, feeling the soaked fabric in his hands. Smirking at you, he ran his hand over your folds and slid his fingers inside you. “Princess…”

You were as ready as you were physically able to be.

“Fuck me,” you breathed out when Jaemin pulled the T-shirt over his head, revealing his muscular chest. His fingers stroked his hardened length as he stared at you lying under him. “I need your cock, please,” you pouted, knowing he didn’t have the guts to turn you down.

“Hand me the condoms, okay?” Jaemin ordered, and you obediently craned your neck before you reached for the packaging. “Good girl,” he tutted, “do you want to roll it down for me?”

You nodded, too prideful to speak.

In haste, you tore the box apart and took a condom out of its foil. Biting on your bottom lip in concentration, you tried to put the protection on Jaemin’s erection.

“Thank you, baby,” Jaemin whispered with a suggestive smirk as he peeled your hands off his cock and put them over your head. “Can you keep your hands to yourself?” He challenged you as he aligned his length to your soaking entrance.

“We both know I can’t,” you honestly answered, not even trying to hide that you could be a brat in that matter. Even if Jaemin was on top of you, you didn’t want to be passive.

“Fair enough,” Jaemin admitted as he pushed the tip of his cock inside you, making you gasp. “I’d need to cuff you to make you listen to me, wouldn’t I?”

“You never know until you try,” you challenged as you tried to relax and get used to his size. You could feel every vein of his cock as it was buried deep inside of you. “Add handcuffs to the shopping list. We gotta try it soon,” you added eagerly, arching your back as the pleasure started to build up.

Jaemin loved your eagerness and curiosity. It meant the world to him that you wanted to experience all of it with him. He really couldn’t ask for more.

“Maybe that way, we’ll finally end up in bed,” he concluded as he thought of taking his time with you in the confines of your bed.

“Jaemin,” you loudly moaned as he bottomed out with a low grunt. Although you were basically dripping with excitement, you still felt tight around him.

Your walls were squeezed around his cock tightly as Jaemin pounded into you at a ferocious pace. Although he barely started fucking you, droplets of sweat formed on his forehead.

“Fuck,” you whined when his cock was sheathed deep inside you.

Despite your loud moans and lewd skin-slapping sounds, you both could hear a loud thud. Instantly, Jaemin stilled, taken aback by the noise.

It sounded as if a hefty object got knocked off onto the attic floor. Strangely enough, you knew it was impossible as you had thrown everything out two weeks ago.

“What was that?” Jaemin asked –it was definitely louder than any other ghost shenanigans.

“The ghost, obviously,” you deadpanned with a roll of your eyes. It wasn’t the first time the ghost tried to put Jaemin out of the right mood and cockblock you. Enough was enough, you wondered as you wrapped your arms around Jaemin’s neck and pulled him for a passionate kiss. “Ignore it, and it shall stop,” you added, brushing your nose against his in hopes you could seduce him and make him forget about that incident.

Jaemin reciprocated the kiss, slowly rolling his hips as you raked your fingers across his back. You were feeling hot all over, but when his cock found that sensitive bud, you accidentally dug into his skin, leaving shallow scratching marks down his spine.

Thud!

“We should check it out,” Jaemin jerked his head upwards when another noise rang in his ears.

“Go ahead,” you said with disappointment in your voice.

“Me? Alone?” Jaemin exclaimed but then cleared his throat, trying to save his image. “I mean… I’m not leaving you here all by yourself. It’s too dangerous.”

“Do you want me to go and check?” You challenged, sending Jaemin an unamused look.

“Let you go there without backup? No way,” he argued. It was more likely for hell to freeze over than for Jaemin to let you go to the attic alone.

“I’ll get someone to check it in the morning, okay?” You said, pressing an innocent peck against Jaemin’s lips. “Now, that being said, fuck me. If you don’t start pounding that cock, I’m gonna ride you and –

You didn’t even get to finish as Jaemin captured your lips, sucking the air out of your lips with his lustful kiss. Jaemin snapped his hips powerfully, making you whine. His moves were so fast and precise that he basically forced pleasure onto you. Your breasts were bouncing in his rhythm.

“Jaem – I’m coming,” you shouted, arching your back as utter bliss washed through you. “Fuck,” you carried on as waves of pleasure hit you one by one.

Jaemin came seconds after you. It was impossible for him to keep going, not when your walls clenched around him, caging him inside when he shot his load into the condom.

Completely drained, Jaemin fell on the couch next to you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he tried to catch a breath.

Panting, Jaemin sneaked his arm around you and pulled you against his chest.

You felt comfortable in his arms. As long as you wanted him, he’d never let you go.

“I still want to eat you out,” Jaemin whispered into your ear as he closed his eyes and cuddled to your side. “Just give me a few minutes to rest.”

***

The interior was done. Every single room got deep cleaned, upgraded, and elevated. Unlike your other projects, you did it up to your personal taste, and you loved the final outcome. Now when the product was almost ready for sale, you had doubts.

The mansion belonged to your family for many generations. Though your relatives considered it a burden, you could see its full potential. To say you were anxious about selling it was an understatement. Thankfully, you still had about a week and a half to make up your mind – courtesy of Jaemin, who put a hold on arranging a house tour.

However, now it was time to focus on the exterior and the land around the house. The constriction crew you hired was already setting up the scaffolding around the mansion. Their foreman assured you it wouldn’t take more than four days to repaint the elevation and replace the old roof tiles. That being said, you and Jaemin had more than enough time to map out every inch of the garden.

That’s why you and Jaemin strolled around the property, hand in hand, brainstorming.

“What do you think about fruit trees over there? How about cherry trees? Or maybe peach trees? They’re both low maintenance, so they wouldn’t be much of a burden to the future owners,” you said as you pulled your hand out of Jaemin’s gentle grip. You needed both hands to make a frame with your fingers to see it from an accurate perspective.

“According to Google, everybody can grow them,” Jaemin replied, fact-checking your statement.

“I think you’re reading the same article I did,” you giggled, giving Jaemin a quick kiss. “Hmm… the house is blocking most of the sunlight here.”

“That’s what I was thinking. How about we plant them slightly to the left?” Jaemin proposed, and you hummed, agreeing it was definitely a better place. “Let me see how quick we can have them delivered.”

“There’s no rush,” you casually added, shrugging. The longer the renovation was going, the longer you could stay in that countryside piece of heaven with Jaemin. “Who thought that landscaping is so difficult?” You asked before you walked away to explore the rest of the area, wishing for your inspiration to come.

“Wait up for me, princess,” Jaemin hollered, quickly interlocking his hand in yours.

You and Jaemin circled around the house about ten times before you had an idea of how to landscape most of the area.

“I feel like something’s missing,” you spoke up, looking at Jaemin’s profile. He was right beside you, his arm slouched over your shoulders, ready to support you every step of the way – like he always did ever since you started working together on the house.

“Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. You always do,” Jaemin said, pressing a chaste kiss against your temple. “Let’s look at the sketch one more time, shall we?” He added, reaching out for a paper with your silly depiction. Admittedly, it looked like something a four-year-old would draw if given a pencil. You knew how to work with it, though. After all, you sketched it.

“The gazebo feels empty despite the rose bushes. Don’t you think?” You wondered, looking around. Although the bushes needed some serious trimming, you could tell something was lacking.

Jaemin hummed, thinking about how to solve this problem. Unfortunately, his brain was blank. He knew why he felt as if something was missing, but he just couldn’t provide you with a solution. High-end apartments were in the range of his expertise – he did not possess any landscaping skills that you could use.

“How about a stone fire pit?”

“Let me visualize it,” Jaemin sighed, closing his eyes. “Nighttime. A couple sits here, blankets over their laps, keeping them warm. The wood softly crackles in the background. One prepares food, and the other pours the wine. It feels nice.”

You liked Jaemin’s impromptu scenario. You’d love to experience that with Jaemin, but you really needed to remind yourself you were making it for future residents.

“I really like that,” you answered with a sigh, flashing Jaemin a fond smile. “I am not 100% convinced, though. How about a swimming pool? People who can afford such a big house like fancy stuff.”

“I don’t think it really fits the vibe,” Jaemin remarked, and you cursed under your breath, knowing he was right. “Besides, swimming pools are out of fashion, and people barely put them on their priority lists. They unreasonably inflate real estate prices too. It’s not worth the hassle,” he lectured, and you huffed, grasping at straws right now.

Then it hit you.

“I know!” You exclaimed, jumping to your feet, bumping your thighs against the side of the table. “We need a pond! Nothing too big. Wouldn’t that look fantastic here? We could get some Koi fish and plants that would clean and filter pond water. And if we want to splurge, we could install a mini fountain. What do you think?”

Jaemin exhaled, giving your idea a genuine thought, weighing all the pros and cons. Both projects were similar price-wise. The fire pit was more practical, but the pond would fit right in, enhancing the landscape aesthetic.

“I think it’ll look amazing,” Jaemin honestly replied, making you beam. You trusted his judgment. If your idea sucked, Jaemin would tell you or suggest something else.

“In that case, I’ll get the shovels,” you announced, giving Jaemin a series of quick pecks before you strode inside the house. The gardening tools were stored in the basement. Unfortunately, there was only one spade, so if you and Jaemin wanted to dig up the hole together, you needed to take turns.

“You start around the edges. I’ll change you when you get tired,” Jaemin said, sending you a playful wink. You were used to dirty work, so you didn’t complain about the hard labor you were to experience. It would be your first attempt at making such a thing, so you knew you’d have lots of fun trying it out.

“Do you think it’s big enough?” You asked him after you had been digging for about thirty minutes. You were going for a kidney shape of the pond, and you needed a second opinion. You read that Koi fish grow rather quickly, and you wondered if it was enough.

“Depends how much fish we want to get,” Jaemin stated as he circled the pit, wondering. “If we plants bushes and flowers around it, it’ll look cramped. Let’s make it a bit bigger on the bottom side. What do you think?”

For another half an hour, you kept digging, asking Jaemin every five minutes if the pond’s shape seemed intact. You’d get frustrated if, instead of a kidney, the pit would look like a liver or a large intestine.

“Let’s switch. I’m spent,” you said, handing Jaemin a spade. You worked on the shape, but it was Jaemin’s turn to put his muscles to good use and handle the pit’s depth.

Jaemin was digging diligently, and you used your break to catch a breath. You were sitting on the bench, watching him work. His muscles were tensed as he swung the spade. Small droplets of sweat formed on his forehead and dampened his fringe, and when he wiped it off with his forearm, you were shamelessly drooling.

“Do you want to make it one level deep? Personally, I think it’d look better with at least three levels,” Jaemin started, but he didn’t get a reply from you. “Hey! Stop checking me out and pay attention to what I’m saying,” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers, hoping it would pull you out of your horny train of thought.

“You were saying…?” You sheepishly smiled, batting your eyelashes at him. “Oh, the levels, right… I think it’s better to have some variety. Besides, you can see the fish better if they swim in the shallow part of the pond. Let’s do that.”

Jaemin smirked at you before he returned to his work. For another hour or so, you and Jaemin were talking about the best plant choices. Typing away on your computer, you made notes, compared prices, and added a few stuff to the shopping cart.

“There’s something here,” Jaemin said as he stumbled upon something hard in the ground. Not giving it much thought, Jaemin inspected the soil with the blade of his spade, trying to find the object and dig it out.

“It’s probably a rock or something,” you casually said as you approached the hole and craned your neck to see what Jaemin was referring to.

“I don’t think it’s a rock. It’s long and narrow,” Jaemin replied, bending down to swipe the loam off of the unidentified object with his hand. “Oh fuck, it looks like a bone,” he cursed, jumping to the back in shock. “It doesn’t look animal.”

Jaemin quickly hopped out of the pit. The fact that he touched it with his bare hand made him twist in disgust. Frantically, he tried to swipe invisible bugs.

“It looks like a tibia,” you commented as you took a closer look.

“You said what?” Jaemin hollered, trying to stop his gag reflex. He needed to get out of here and take a hot shower.

“I think we need to call the police,” you said, already dialing the emergency number. If human remains were there, the police would know what to do about them. “Just go and take a shower, Jaemin. I can handle them.”

“Thank you so much, I lo-” Jaemin said, biting his tongue just in time before it could slip. That was not the confession you deserved – not over a pit in the ground with possibly a human skeleton in it. “I’ll try to be as quick as possible,” he sheepishly added, marching toward the house.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later. It wasn’t a matter of life or death, so they took their precious time to show up.

“Ma’am, step away, please,” a young police officer said as he approached the pit with his partner. “The coroner is on his way. He should be here anytime soon.”

“What did they say?” Jaemin whispered into your ear as he stopped by your side, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Nothing much yet. The coroner said it’s most definitely human. They’ll take the corpse to the morgue and give it a proper examination,” you explained, cuddling up against Jaemin. “Approximately, the corpse has been in the ground for over 80 years.”

“The body has almost fully decomposed. There’s not much left from the clothing, but I found some sort of emblems. I believe our John Doe was a soldier,” the coroner said, looking up at the police. “If my suspicion is correct, the archaeologist might want to have a look at it.”

“Fantastic.”

***

As you had been told, a crew of archaeologists showed up the very next day to check the rest of the area. They brought a lot of gear to scan the ground. Thankfully, they didn’t find anything excavation-worthy.

Thankfully, you managed to ask them about the corpse before they took off. The person was a military pilot who died approximately shortly after the war started, being only 22 years of age. Unfortunately, they were unable to identify the remains. The soldier’s emblems and insignias found will be displayed in the national museum, and his body will rest in peace in the local cemetery.

“That’s so unfortunate they weren’t able to identify him,” Jaemin commented when he learned the news. “His descendants deserve to know.”

“They took his DNA sample, so maybe one day they figure it out.”

“I hope they do,” Jaemin added, stretching his arms. “So… are you ready to get dirty?”

“Are you serious right now? I swear it’s the only thing on your mind,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes at him. “Fine, but let’s be quick.”

“I meant gardening,” Jaemin yelled, laughing. Although you thought he was the horndog, in reality, you matched his energy just fine. His statement was innocent, but you chose to interpret it as an invitation for something entirely else. “The plants were dispatched yesterday, but you were too invested supervising the archaeologists to notice it. If we don’t plant them soon, they may wither, so get that sexy brain out of the gutter and put on your gardening gloves.”

“Yes, sir,” you saluted, jumping off the couch to put on your working shoes.

***

You and Jaemin did a lot of great work. Although you had no high expectations, the garden turned out great. (Or at least, the parts where you could plant the bushes and trees as the constriction crew was still working on the roofing. You couldn’t do anything in close proximity to the building.)

Having showered, you walked into your bedroom and joined Jaemin on the bed, cuddling to his side. It was a busy day, and you craved his intimacy. Instinctively, Jaemin snaked his hand around your frame, pulling you closer.

For a while, none of you said anything. Instead, you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you.

“Is it me, or it feels different,” Jaemin whispered, breaking the silence. Confused, you looked at him, but he just smiled and cradled your head in his arm. “The ghost, I mean. Ever since the archaeologists took the corpse, it has felt different. Quiet.”

To be frank, you didn’t care about the ghost that much. You didn’t pay much attention to it when it was actively haunting the place, so when the shenanigans stopped, you didn’t even notice. Jaemin, however, instantly picked up on the shift in the atmosphere.

“Do you think the ghost could leave after it’s been properly buried?” Jaemin wondered, and you hummed. “I’m relieved. I’d feel bad if we sold the house with the ghost still being here.”

Why did you feel bitter? It’s a good thing you got rid of the ghost. It did leave on its own conditions. You didn’t need to use force to evict it.

Now, you had no excuse to prolong the inevitable. In two, maybe three days, the renovation would be finished. The turnkey house will be officially on the market.

“Yeah,” you murmured, not even trying to disguise your disappointment.

“What’s the matter?” Jaemin asked, looking at you with concern. You just weren’t the type to be brooding, so your current mood worried him. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“I just – I like how things are right now,” you admitted, hiding your face in Jaemin’s chest. “I like living here with you. It’s fun and convenient. I don’t want change.”

“It’s natural to feel anxious, princess,” Jaemin started, caressing your side, drawing circular shapes on your skin. “Regardless of the place, I will be just as crazy for you. We’ll both move to the city. Big deal! Commuting will take us way less time, but everything else will stay the same,” Jaemin added, and you smiled, trusting him.

“Don’t forget I’ll be crazy rich,” you noticed, giggling.

Jaemin assured you that his feelings weren’t going to change, and you had no reason not to trust him. He showed it every chance he got.

“I will get my commission too,” Jaemin pointed out, smugly smiling. “But if you want me to become your sugar baby, we can talk about it.”

“I thought you wanted to return to the high-end apartments market.”

“I do, but I can treat it more like a non-demanding hobby. My sexy girlfriend will be putting all the bread we need on the table, so why should I bother?” Jaemin jested, attacking your neck with some kisses.

“You would make a hot housewife,” you remarked, making Jaemin playfully pinch your sides.

“Take that back!” Jaemin yelled, mercilessly tickling you. Although Jaemin acted offended, he didn’t mean that. Jaemin was hot, and he knew he would make a great housewife.

***

The moment you dreaded the most – the open house – finally approached. Jaemin put information on the estate agency and its website, on plenty of online groups for house hunters, and even uploaded short invitations video on TikTok.

Unexpectedly, the promotion managed to gather quite a crowd.

You were on the porch, greeting all potential customers with a bright smile. Once inside, Jaemin was waiting for them to give them a proper tour.

Jaemin shone.

You could tell he was in his element. It was the first time you saw his work performance, and you instantly realized how good at it he actually was. He was kind and charismatic. He provided potential customers with precise answers, showcasing his professionalism. Sometimes, he’d crack a joke even. There was no doubt he’d find a buyer by the end of the day.

“Long time no see,” you heard a familiar voice. Instantly, you smiled. “I know we’re only best friends, but I expected to get an invitation for the open house. I can’t believe I had to watch your TikTok to find out you’re giving away free cookies,” Renjun blabbered, but you only rolled your eyes before you turned around and gave him a bone-crashing hug.

“It must’ve slipped my mind,” you defended, squeezing your arms even tighter around his frame. “You’re here anyway. Do you want me to steal the cookie bowl? We could sit somewhere quiet and catch up.”

“You know me too well. That’s what I came here for – cookies and some good tea.”

“Give me a second,” you quickly said before you ran inside. Jaemin was busy giving a tour to a lovely couple in their mid-forties. He didn’t need your help, so you grabbed the cookies and marched outside without being noticed.

You offered Renjun to sit down at the gazebo. Now, the flowers and bushes around it were nicely trimmed, and the small fountain in the pond produced a calming pitter-patter. The atmosphere couldn’t get any better for some good ol’ gossip.

“Do you know when you’re coming back to the city?” Renjun asked, reaching for a cookie and stuffing his mouth with it.

“Probably at the end of the week,” you shrugged, not giving it much thought. There was no reason for you to stay here any longer, and besides, you got a business to co-run with Renjun. Although he had been doing great without your help, it wasn’t fair to dump all of the responsibilities on him. “Why? Did you miss me that much?”

“Not really,” Renjun said, lying through his teeth, trying to keep up appearances. “I’m just wondering when it’s my turn to leave everything in your hands to have a honeymoon in this magical countryside mansion.”

“I’ve never – It’s not like – What do you even –“ you stuttered, your mind short-circuiting, unable to deliver a good comeback to Renjun’s accusations. You didn’t plan on meeting Jaemin nor falling for him when you arrived. It just happened. Naturally. And you did not appreciate the smug smirk Renjun used to tease you about it. “You know what? It doesn’t even deserve a comment. And you don’t deserve any time off.”

“No need to get defensive. I’m just messing with you,” Renjun laughed, munching on another sweet treat. “Anyway… he’s cute. And you look happy. Is it finally the end of your terrible luck? I don’t have any more patience to deal with the assholes you choose to date.”

It was adorable of Renjun to care so much about you. He was ready to fight anyone who’d dare to hurt you, and it warmed your heart. He really set the bar really high – as every best friend should.

“Funny story actually… you’re not gonna believe that,” you started, unsure how to rip that band-aid off. Renjun knew everything about that night Jaemin spent with you and how he ghosted you afterward. “That’s Jaemin.”

Renjun froze at the mention of Jaemin’s name. He knew where he had heard that name, but he needed a second for the information to click.

“No,” Renjun said, almost dropping his cookie that cracked in half when he squeezed it a little too hard. “You gotta be kidding me. Jaemin? That Jaemin?” He asked, and you nodded, sheepishly smiling.

“I mean… we cleared the air,” you started explaining, hoping Renjun would understand. “When you think about it, it’s never been that deep. We were basically strangers. Jaemin said he would call, but he didn’t. We talked about it, and he apologized. We moved on.”

“I trust your judgment,” Renjun proclaimed, and you smiled. Maybe it wasn’t a formal approval, but you were happy that Renjun didn’t openly oppose. You valued Renjun’s opinion. You had no idea what you would’ve done if he condemned your relationship with Jaemin. “I’m gonna kick his ass if he even thinks about hurting you.”

“I didn’t expect any less from you,” you teased, giving him a slight jab with your elbow. “Anyway… enough about Jaemin. How are you? How’s our company?”

“It’s difficult to run it by myself, but you’re coming back soon, so I should survive,” Renjun answered with a shrug. “New customers keep coming, but we can’t accept all of them with the resources we have. When you’re back in the office, we need to prioritize.”

“It’s crazy how much our company grew this year, isn’t it?” You said with a soft smile, reminiscing. Though it didn’t blow up, it solidified its position on the market, and now, it was a bit tricky to manage it by the two of you. “Actually, I was thinking.”

“Oh boy, now, I am scared,” Renjun snickered, and you jabbed his side. “Ouch.”

“Flipping that house reminded me how fun it is to get my hands dirty,” you started, taking a deep nostalgic sigh. “I love how much profit we make and how many people we help, but managing the company from the office is not nearly as fun as working on the site.”

“I hate how right you are,” Renjun admitted, having no other choice but to agree with you.

“I think it’s time we hire someone to help us with the paperwork.”

“I second that,” Renjun quickly agreed, loving your idea. Now, when you voiced your thoughts, he realized how tiring it was to oversee every part of the company. “We should look for a project manager or something. Let’s do that first thing you come to the office.”

“That’s exactly why you’re my best friend, Renjun,” you said, stuffing your mouth with a cookie. “We are on the same wavelength.”

“So… when are you going to give me a tour? After all, that’s what I came here for,” Renjun said, turning around, staring at the people coming in and out of the estate.

“Why don’t you come tomorrow? I’ll give you a private tour, hmm? As you can see, it’s still quite crowded now. I would hate if the people ruined the full experience for you.”

“You know I’m a sucker for special treatment.”

“Of course I do. We’re best friends.”

***

People kept coming until the late evening hours. Jaemin wasn’t tired at all. If anything, he seemed more and more energized after an encounter with another potential client. You tried your best to help and support him. He didn’t need it, but you were still on standby.

When Jaemin was touring the last couple, you mouthed that you would wait for him in the gazebo. Jaemin nodded his head and winked at you.

Smiling, you sneaked into the basement where you had installed a small pantry. Quickly, you grabbed the ice bucket and put a bottle of champagne in it. As it was the first open house, you and Jaemin wanted to celebrate a little.

Though it was a bit tricky to carry everything at once, you were a woman of many talents, so a bucket of ice, a bottle of champagne, two flute glasses, a pair of cake forks, and a lemon meringue cake were safe in your hands.

Carefully, you placed everything on the table under the gazebo roof. It was already dark, but when you switched on the outside lights, the scenery looked magical. The only thing that was missing was Jaemin, but you were sure he’d join you in no time.

“I don’t remember the last time I had such a crowd at an open house,” Jaemin started, startling you as he sneaked on the free space on the bench beside you. “My social battery is running low,” he added as he dropped his file on the table before he cuddled to your side, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m so proud of you, Jaemin,” you confessed, gently rubbing his scalp.

“You haven’t even heard the best part,” Jaemin started, and you frowned in confusion, having no clue what he was getting at. “I got a call from my boss. Apparently, three couples already made offers. Neither of them lowballed, so I’ll be negotiating the best price for you. Also, if everything goes well, I will not only return but also be promoted to a partner. I can’t believe what’s going on right now. All the hardships paid off.”

“That’s fantastic news,” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. You didn’t care that much about money (as the asking price was more than enough for you), but knowing how much success Jaemin earned filled your heart with pride.

“Let’s pop that bottle,” Jaemin said after a while as the proper celebration was due. Impatiently, he grabbed the champagne and twisted it open, careful enough not to spill.

“To us,” you whispered as you gently clinked your glass against his. “I’m gonna miss this,” you added with a sigh, gazing into the distance. “We’ve made quite the memories here.”

“What do you even mean?” Jaemin asked in fake anger. “I’ll be with you at all times. And we’ll make new memories. Better ones!”

“I still kinda like the ones we already made,” you said matter-of-factly, resting your head on Jaemin’s shoulder, basking in the casual intimacy. You and Jaemin had lots of fun, and the fact that something romantic blossomed – it was just a great bonus. “So… what happens now?”

“My dad always liked to say that every man should plant a tree, build a house, and raise a son,” Jaemin started, and you glared at him, suspecting you weren’t going to like the turn the conversation was about to take. “Well… we planted multiple trees, check. Then, maybe not necessarily built, but we flipped it, kinda check, too. So the only thing left for us is to –

“I can’t believe I’m two-third of a man,” you interjected, hoping it would distract and/or stupefy Jaemin from continuing this topic. It was way too early to be thinking about kids.

“I’m just kidding,” Jaemin giggled as he snaked his arm around your frame and pulled you closer. “Let’s come back to that topic in a few years.”

“The best thing I can do right now is a pet,” you answered, letting a lighthearted titter.

“Even better,” Jaemin agreed, puckering his lips, waiting for you to give him a kiss. “Should we adopt a kitty? Or a puppy? Or both?”

“Eat your cake first,” you nagged as you reached for forks and handed him one. It was meringue, so you didn’t even bother cutting it into pieces. You weren’t a big dessert fan, unlike Jaemin, so you pushed the plate toward his side. Jaemin was stuffing his mouth with the sugary cake, you playing with his hair, admiring his handsome features.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Jaemin asked with his mouth full, turning to look at you. “Come here,” he urged as he stuck a piece of the cake on his fork and held it in front of your mouth, ready to feed you. You opened your mouth to tell him that you had already had some cookies, but before you got to say anything, Jaemin shut you up. “Good girl.”

“I hate you,” you said, chewing on the cake. You didn’t hate Jaemin. You just hated the way such casual flattery got you flustered.

“You don’t mean that,” Jaemin casually replied as he leaned in to kiss you, licking off the excess cream that stained the corner of your lips.

“You’re right. I don’t,” you agreed, heaving a sigh. “I’m pretty much in love with you,” you confessed with a goofy grin, feeling relieved. It was the first time any of you dropped the L-bomb, but it didn’t feel awkward, rushed or forced. You were truthful to your feelings. It just rolled off your tongue with ease. Naturally. Maybe Jaemin didn’t say it back yet, but his actions spoke louder than words – he felt the same way about you.

“I love you, too,” Jaemin professed, not missing a beat. Jaemin couldn’t keep his feelings to himself any longer. He felt that way for quite a while, and it blew his mind it took him so much time to openly say it out loud. He almost blurted it a few times before, but now, it was just a perfect moment for it.

You were grinning like an idiot, unable to contain your happiness. Your facial muscles started to hurt, but you just couldn’t stop yourself.

Slowly, you leaned to, capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

“So… what do you wanna do tonight?” You asked, licking up your lips after you pulled away.

“It’s probably our last night here. We should do something fun,” Jaemin said in a pout, thinking of any propositions. “There are still some places I haven’t got to fuck you yet.”

“Really? I thought we defiled every inch of the house,” you added, genuinely surprised, especially when you weren’t one to overestimate.

“By the end of the night, we will,” Jaemin reassured you, offering you a smug wink. “This gazebo, for instance. It’s such an obvious place, yet you’re always overdressed when we’re here,” he boldly added, and you laughed loudly at your striking oversight.

“You’re so right,” you replied, mentally facepalming yourself. Swiftly, you downed your champagne flute, letting the bubbles tickle your throat. “We have no time to waste. Let’s go!”

“God, I love you so much.”