#Fang for thought (ic)

[thyandrawrites]

Thinking about how Zhuo Yichen and Zhao Yuanzhou were willing to freeze themselves into a block of ice for eternity to make sure the other would survive, and how that ultimate act of love for each other is what saved them. And then thinking of Li Lun being willing to burn himself to ashes with no chances of return to make sure both Zhao Yuanzhou and Zhuo Yichen would survive the battle and live well, unburdened by the same mistakes he did. And how that same ultimate act of love, giving himself up fully for them, in body and in spirit, is what saves them during the One Word Spell. I am unwell

[oflorelei]

[deathfavor]

@ofcrossroads said: ‘ i don’t need you doing something heroic. ’ (Chifuyu to Kazutora)

   “ That’s not a very nice way of saying thank you Kazutora! ” Kazutora replies, fingers still clutching the back of the jacket of the person that tried to attack Chifuyu. The guy’s out cold and the tiger doesn’t seem phased by the dead weight of another person. His smile glints in the moonlight as he looks down at where Chifuyu’s sprawled on the ground. “ ‘Cause he had a gun aimed for you so I think you did need me to.”

    Kazutora’s twenty and he should be in jail, but he’s not because he got set free. Somewhat. He’s at least traded a cell for a sanctuary under the leash of Toman. If you call it that; more like a shadow of Toman. “ Hanma sent me. Well, I suppose technically it was Kisaki. “ His nose scrunches up, disdain still evident. Kisaki might have set him free; that doesn’t mean he has to like the guy. Except Kisaki was better now than the one memory he had of him before so the tiger is tentatively willing to give another chance.

  Kazutora slowly blinks at Chifuyu, cocking his head to the side like he’s studying something he’s caught. “ I didn’t break out of jail before you freak out. They let me go for…corrupt trial or something like that? I dunno what Kisaki did. Anyways, that was two months ago. “  He shrugs and extends a hand towards Chifuyu to help him up. “ I was supposed to make my first appearance at next week’s meeting but guess they got word one of the other gangs was going on a hunt for higher ups like you tonight. So Hanma sent me out. “ It’s been successful ; Chifuyu wasn’t hurt other than maybe a scrape or two, he got the guy for them to torture interrogate, and that meant Hanma and Kisaki would be happy.

   He glances around and then back to Chifuyu. “ Do you have a car nearby or you need a ride? Probably best to not be out walking just in case. “

[vocesincaput]

@indestructiblelittlefckr (izzy) continued from [x]

"I think you do, Iz," Frenchie replied tentatively.

He'd been wanting to talk to the older man for a while now. Noticing little bits here and there that things weren't as alright as the other man wanted everyone to believe. Frenchie was more observant than he thought people believed. Or he liked to think so at least.

"Doin' your job shouldn't have been puttin' up with what you did. No should have had to. What he did...I know you've known 'im years and all that, but he shouldn't get to be on the same boat as you."

[faithsmadhouse]

In the pines||Remmick x reader

MDNI+18

Summary—You wake up soaked from a dream you shouldn’t have had—one where Remmick had his fangs in your throat and his cock buried deep inside you. But it wasn’t just a dream. He’s real, watching, waiting… and when he lures you into the woods in the dead of night, there’s no turning back. You’re his. Body, blood, and soul.

SMUT WARNING (18+ only): This is a dark, explicit one-shot featuring Dom!Remmick and a sub!reader. Includes trance/dub-con, voyeurism reference, predator/prey dynamic, biting, bloodplay, venom/aphrodisiac drool, rough sex (doggy style and missionary), overstimulation, chain kink, degradation & praise, multiple orgasms, light breathplay, dirty talk, possessive obsession, and deeply feral energy. Read responsibly.

A/n the was requested by an anon on @ice-man-goes-bwoah

@abriefnirvana @spikeyfearn

The sheets were soaked.

You jolted awake with a strangled gasp, thighs clenched and pulse pounding between your legs. Your skin burned. Your tank top stuck to you with sweat, your panties utterly ruined. The ache in your core throbbed like a bruise.

Dream. You blinked at the ceiling. But it hadn’t felt like a dream.

You could still feel his hands on you.

Remmick.

A laugh, low and cruel, echoed in your skull.

You thought you were safe.

You thought I’d stay away.

You were wrong, darlin’.

Your breath hitched. The air in the room had changed. He was here.

You sat up. The window was open.

Cool wind spilled in from the woods, carrying the scent of moss and smoke and something darker. Your feet hit the floor before your brain caught up. You didn’t grab a coat. You didn’t even put on shoes.

Something in your body needed to find him.

The forest was pitch-black, but you didn’t feel fear. The night air curled around you like fingers, whispering in a voice not quite your own.

You walked deeper. Through brush and root, over moon-drenched patches of stone. The wind spoke.

“Come on, sugar. That’s it. Come find me.”

There was no thought. Only heat, and hunger, and the echo of a dream you were still wet from.

Then he stepped from the shadows.

Remmick.

Tall. He wore a button-up shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, and his suspenders hung down by his waist. His shoes were caked with dirt, and the thin chain necklace swayed around his throat, glinting as he tilted his head. And those eyes—glowing like red hot coals—devoured you.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he drawled, voice deep, lazy, laced with both Southern molasses and something old and Irish, ancient like the woods. “Knew you’d come crawlin’. You’ve been dreamin’ ‘bout me again, haven’t ya, mo grá?”

You swallowed thickly.

“I—”

“Don’t lie. I smelled it. Watched you fuckin’ grind on them sheets like a bitch in heat.”

Your knees buckled. Your thighs trembled.

He was in front of you before you could blink.

“Felt every little whimper through the trees,” he murmured, mouth brushing your ear. “Felt you clenchin’ ‘round nothin’. Cryin’ for me. So I came to see my girl. Thought I’d give you what you needed.”

His hand slid between your thighs. Your panties were soaked through.

“Aw, hell,” he hissed, grin curling sharp. “You are drippin’.”

A growl rumbled in his throat. “Should’a come sooner.”

You gasped as he scooped you up, your back pressed against the nearest tree. Bark scratched your shoulders as his mouth found your neck kissing it and biting marking you.

Once he was satisfied, he yanked back, fingers digging into your cheeks hard enough to bruise. “Open,” he growled.

You obeyed, staring up at him with your mouth wide. Remmick’s lips curled into a wicked grin, a thick string of drool sliding from the corner of his mouth. He leaned in close, breath hot and heavy, and tilted your head back like you were nothing but prey.

Then the venom spilled—slow, deliberate—onto your tongue, thick and burning as it hit your throat. You went limp with a strangled moan. Dazed. Blown open with heat. His saliva slicked your skin, and the world tilted.

“Mm. That’s it. Let go for me, sugar.”

He dropped to his knees and shoved your panties aside with no ceremony.

Then his mouth was on you.

Remmick ate like a starved man, tongue filthy, slow, teasing.

“So goddamn sweet,” he groaned, voice muffled. “Like honey and fuckin’ sin.”

You were writhing, sobbing, grinding helplessly against his face.

One thick finger slid inside you.

Then two.

“Can’t even fuckin’ wait,” he growled, rising to his feet, licking your slick from his lips like a promise. “Need this cunt now.”

He spun you around, bent you over a mossy boulder. You barely caught yourself in time.

“Back arched,” he barked, grabbing your hips. “Ass up. Show me that fuckin’ needy little pussy.”

You whimpered as he shoved his cock against your entrance, teasing.

“Beg.”

“Please, Remmick,” you cried. “Please fuck me—need it—need you—”

SLAP.

A harsh smack to your ass made you jolt.

“Damn right you do.”

And then he was inside.

All the way.

You screamed.

“Fuckin’ tight,” he snarled, rolling his hips. “Grippin’ me like you’re starvin’. You love this, don’t ya?”

You couldn’t speak—only moan, already clenching around him as the first orgasm slammed through you.

“Shit, already?” he barked, feral. “Just like that? Thought I was gonna have to work for it, slut.”

He didn’t slow.

Thrust after brutal thrust, he drove into you like a man possessed. His hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he pounded into your soaked cunt from behind.

“You’re my pretty little fucktoy, huh?” he hissed in your ear. “Let me ruin you, sugar. Let me fuckin’ break you.”

Your legs were shaking. You couldn’t breathe.

Then he pressed two fingers to your clit—and you shattered again, sobbing.

He flipped you over onto your back, caging you in the moss.

His eyes were dark now, chain swinging freely over your face as he hovered above you.

“I love watchin’ you like this,” he purred, voice a slurred mix of drawl and brogue. “All wrecked. All mine.”

The chain hit your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you. You moaned around his tongue, tasting venom.

“Open your legs. Wider.”

You obeyed.

“That’s my girl.”

He slammed into you again, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand.

“Count your fuckin’ orgasms,” he growled.

“I—uh—two—”

“Wrong.” He snapped his hips. You cried out. “Three. That one on my tongue? That counted.”

You nodded frantically.

He grabbed your throat, gentle but firm, his grip pulsing as he rutted into you.

“You’re gonna give me seven,” he snarled. “That pretty little pussy can take it. You were made for me. Made to be fucked like this.”

You were sobbing, begging, drooling.

His chain bounced with each thrust, smacking lightly against your lips, your nose, your flushed cheeks.

And then—

He bit you again.

You came with a scream, body spasming under his weight.

“That’s four, sugar,” he growled, licking your blood from his lips. “Ain’t stoppin’ ‘til you’re gushin’.”

You lost count.

You came until your thighs shook violently, until you were clawing at his back, until your voice was hoarse from screaming his name.

He praised you. He degraded you.

“Such a good slut for me.”

“Dumb little hole, just made for cock.”

“You’re so perfect when you cry.”

“Mine. All mine.”

When he finally came, it was with a deep growl and his fangs buried in your throat. He spilled inside you, marking you, biting hard enough that you saw stars.

You were boneless, trembling, completely ruined.

He stayed on top of you for a while, pressing kisses to your bloodied throat.

“You ain’t ever gonna dream ‘bout no one else now,” he whispered, voice soft and possessive. “I’m in your fuckin’ blood, darlin’.”

You blinked up at him, dazed and wrecked.

He smiled.

“Good girl.”

[fruifruit]

bomberdier boss fight should have been in the sky pokemon x and y bird keeper style

[okwonyo]

FIGHT FOR YOU 。 𝗉𝗌𝗁

𝐈𝐕────𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎

❪ 𝖠 ★ 𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 ❫ 、 boxer!psh & fem!rea 1O8O fluff 𝘄 ｡ mention of blood skinship kissing ◞ ◟书

REBLOG = KISS ！

door closed but unlocked, you take sunghoon in after he knocks a few times on the door. he presents to you breathless, pecks heaving as he tries to calm the pace of his heartbeat. his hair is messy, sticky on his forehead due to his sweat. he is wearing a white tank top that sticks to his abs for dear life.

“hey, pretty,” he greets you. with his usual smirk tugging on his wounded lips. he still looks ridiculously handsome, even bruised and bloody.

you roll your eyes at the petname, although you still smile, and walk into the room without greeting him back, “close the door behind you.”

“so bossy,” he laughs quietly. he listens to your order however as you sit on the chair in front of the bed.

he sits down, right in front of you. he is quiet for a short amount of time, watching the way your fingers work softly to prepare the cottons and products you will use to ease the slight sting on his skin.

you hold his chin. turning his head to the side, you trail your eyes over his perfect jaw. you turn his head to the other side, looking at the wounds that you need to take care of.

he isn’t very bruised. just a cut on his lower lip and left eyebrow. there is also some reddened parts due to the hits he received, nothing some ice can’t heal.

“you didn’t come watch me fight,” sunghoon breaks the long silence. his lips are formed in a slight pout. it’s cute, even for a giant like him.

you laugh quietly, “i didn’t,” you can never bring yourself to. your knees buckle at the thought of him getting hurt alone. as you tap the disinfectant soaked cotton on his lower lip, you think that you will have a heart attack if you watched one of his fights.

“i won,” he tells you. you nod slowly, patting the tissue, letting the blood disappear from his perfect face. “you own me a date.”

he hisses when you press the material against his bruise. you didn’t do it on purpose, “i’m sorry—w–what?”

sunghoon’s fangs show up when he smiles so widely, “damn, do i make you that nervous?”

you sigh loudly, tossing the bloody cotton in the bin next to you, “please, shut up and let me work on you.”

he runs his tongue on his mouth, tasting the cleaned cut on his lower lip. “you can work on me anytime, sweetheart.”

you ignore his comment and the creeping blush on your cheeks. his presence makes your heartbeat go at a ridiculously fast pace. even more when he talks to you this way.

“so?”

“what?”

“you own me a date.” he presses while you clean his other cut.

you sigh once again, too busy focusing on your work to give him an answer just yet. you remember that he told you about how he wanted to take you on date. and you joked that if he won his next fight, you would think about it. but you thought it was meaningless joking.

“i don’t know what you are talking about,” you put the other tissue in the bin again. then you get up to take a pack of ice in the fridge.

you can hear the grin in his deep voice, “oh yeah?”

clearing your dry throat doesn’t help. your voice is still weak, “y–yeah.”

his gaze is hard to avoid. when you stand so close, applying ice on his bruise. you don’t know why you do it for him. he can do it himself. you don’t stop, though.

“then why are you red in the face, hm?” his goddamn smirk never wipes off his face, you swear it. his eyes are burning holes in your lips when he stares at them so shamelessly. how can he know anything about the state of your face when he is only focused on your mouth?

“stop it.”

“what?” he fakes confusion. tilting his head to the side.

“looking at me like that,” you are embarrassed of your voice’s ridiculously high pitch.

he seems amused by it. he chuckles, “like what?”

the tension in the room is building. you feel your body being pulled by his, telepathically, more and more, “like you want to kiss me or—or something!”

sunghoon falls silent. your eyes rest on his face after your sudden outburst and his gaze is still on your lips. slowly, he brings his hand to yours, the one that is holding the ice against his skin.

you can only blink as he brings it down, away from his face. “would you let me?”

you breath is stuck in your throat for a while. you eyelashes bat as you slowly try to take in what he just asked, “what?”

you want to hear it again. you want him to be clear, as he always is.

“if i kissed you,” his voice is quiet. you didn’t realize how close he got to you— or was it you who leaned in without realizing? “would you let me do it, doll?”

he is already close enough. he might be able to hear the sound of your fastening heart rate, “d–do you really want to?”

his lips tickle yours when he answers, “i really need to.”

the sound of the ice pack falling on the ground echoes in the entire room. you hold his face into your palms. his lips smash against your with such a passion that your body reacts to it like it would to electricity.

his hair are fluffy against your hand after you wrap your arms around his neck and run your fingers through his locks. he smiles against your mouth when you grip into his hair slightly.

his strong hands hold onto your waist. he yanks you closer to his body. you can feel the metallic taste of his cut on your tongue when his mouth moves so smoothly against your own.

sunghoon’s hand comes to hold your own. he slides your hand down to his neck, then your palm brush of his pecs and you soon feel his sculpted abs under the thin tissue of his tank top.

“fuck, love it when you touch me,” he says. it makes your knees so weak that you almost fall. but he holds you tighter and slides his tongue in your mouth when you yelp.

after thinking for a while, you decide that will let him take you on a date.

분지 ܃ for sallie 🎀

© 𝖮𝖪𝖶𝖮𝖭𝖸𝖮 ୨୧ 𝟐𝐎𝟐𝟓 ── taglist open 。

[hvacfucker]

Ok NSFW but Hector is ABSOLUTELY into temperature play. Blindfolding his partner and then playing with ice cubes/hot wax on their body, watching goosebumps form and their skin flush... And since it's basically an extension of his toying with the temperature of the house, he'd be a natural at it 🙂‍↕️

Edit: Now includes versions with she/her, he/him, they/them pronouns. Anatomy specified accordingly!

LMFAOAOA the literal HVAC being into temperature play is so fucking funny but makes so much sense. i mean, he literally tells us as much, albeit him admitting so in much more... flowery language.

okay but also imagine his partner wanting to demonstrate what it's like being on the receiving end of his kink?

hope you don't mind i'm hijacking this ask for my thoughts!

descriptors of Hector's physical appearance down below!

>>>mdni

She/her version:

The bedsprings squeaked, metal rattled, and to any onlooker not clued in, they might assume the man cuffed to the bed and blindfolded was undergoing a torture of the highest cruelty; his limbs writhing against the sheets, black coils turned to tendrils on his salty brow, groans hissed through a clenched jaw. However, they'd be mistaken. Hector was right where he wanted to be. With the person he wanted most. And they were on top of him, like a huntress savoring the last throes of her quarry, rapt with his every twist, salivating over what exquisite depravities she could extract from him next.

Her fingers, raking him over like talons, dragged the ice down his pebbled pecs, then his stomach, swirling below his navel, provoking another tender gasp from his heaving chest. He arched, skin turned gooseflesh. A hot pang rolled through her belly. Her lips curled into something wicked.

With a smile that could rend steel, though she boasted no fangs, she leaned in, whispering, "See? This is what it feels like, Hector: what you feel like to me." Her deft hands arabesqued his thigh, traveling up, up, up, a pinky catching on the hem of his boxers, threatening to invade further. And despite how she wished to plunge deep into his underwear, to feel him, febrile and velvet, pump his hardness with the same rapacious hunger compelling her to spill his belly and sink her teeth into his muscle, she held her ground, breath bated, eyes fixated on the man her heart ached for. She wanted the ache. She wanted him. But, not yet. Their game wasn't over.

Hector keened against the restraints, the bar between his plush lips muffling a shaky cry, teeth baring leather. He pretended like he wanted to get away, but his tip beaded a dark blot against the cotton. His brows wrinkled, the corners of his mouth went upturned, then quickly corrected to that helpless wince. Her laugh was all smoke and suede, without an ounce of remorse.

"Hector," her fingers edged an inch deeper below the fabric, chiding him in a sultry and low coo, "we both know how good you are with your words." Another inch. He flexed. She hummed. "But..."

She whistled cool air against his red-tipped ear. "No more words." she said, her fingers brushing his fraying curls, tucking a black loop into place. "Speak with your body, amorcito. Show me what you want."

The pretenses were gone, the inferno of his sweltering desire vaporizing them. Hector bucked his hips, seeking friction. His voice, sweet, desperate, begged unintelligibly. Her pussy throbbed. He debased himself so... easily, so willingly. She couldn't help but pant at the sight of him. Her fingers found her wetness then slipped under his boxers, all while praising that he was being so good for her, painting his hardened length with her sticky want, wrapping her fingers round him, squeezing, strangling. Her other hand spilled the burning candle's wax on his chest and he sobbed, suddenly becoming shy and facing away from her. She chuckled but didn't let up on her ruthless pace. She needed him to feel every ounce; to understand what he'd been doing to her all this time from his vents.

Her lush mouth found his nipple and she sucked, tongue laving him, teeth nibbling. The red wax hardened. His breath labored and his abdomen tensed, cock throbbing in her palm. He was close, and she knew it, so she slowed, lording her authority over his feverish state. She hoped he'd beg, shake his hips against her hand, but instead, he slobbered against the gag censoring him, attempting to say something. Concerned, she relieved him of the bar, and he sucked in a gasp.

"Is everything alright, Hector?" she asked, cupping his cheek.

He nodded. "It's just..." His head hung low, face flushing bashfully, blindfold visoring his eyes. She listened intently, suddenly full of worry.

"I—I want you, I love you, I need you. So please, kiss me. I'm so close, just, please, kiss me— "

Her mouth crashed into his, surprising him, and they sighed together. It was all breath and hunger, whimpers so saccharine she forgot she was the aggressor and he her prey, lost to the tang of him and his slippery feel. Her hand started up again, gradual, then marauding. He twisted, pressing against her eagerly. Between the squelching and tremors of longing wracking her lonely pussy, she speared her hand into his hair as if to search for more of him — for some other part of him she hadn't yet discovered. She needed him. Every mole, scar, wrinkle, it was hers. He belonged to her and she commanded so, greedily devouring his kiss-bruised lips, her hand pumping his twitching cock. Hector moaned and she worked him in earnest, guiding, loving.

At the most final moment, she pulled away, saliva trailing between them, springing his length free from the confines of his underwear, and she took his miserably erubescent head into her mouth, cheeks pitting, warmth sliding over the entirety of his cock. He winced, calling her name as his climax flooded her mouth.

At the head of the bed, Hector breathed raggedly, her drawing every last bit of him out from his half-hard cock. When she finished, she wiped her mouth and curled up next to him, a quiet adoration fuzzing her core. Discarding his blindfold and unfastening the cuffs, they looked at each other, their sex-mussed hair, their sweaty bodies, their glazed eyes, and they laughed. She tucked her head against his chest, on top of the wax, it smelling of jasmine, and Hector welcomed her, pulling her in, but it was clear there was something else.

She asked what he was thinking. She felt the rumble of his voice as he spoke.

"Well," his hand rubbed her shoulder, "your thighs, they're wet, and they're... touching me."

Before she could recoil, embarrassed over the state of herself, his arms caged her, strong and unrelenting. With a confidence she rarely glanced from Hector, he turned her chin up to him, both of their faces ablaze, and kissed her, holding her there, soft and delicately.

His other hand sank to the swell of her hips, tentatively as though waiting for her to stop him, but she didn't.

When she broke their embrace, she told him that she loved him, and he placed his lips on her forehead. His fingers finally met her there, brushing past a tuft of hair, then probing, curious and feeling rough against her drenched sex.

"After all this time, you have no idea what hearing you say that means to me. Please, let me show you."

He/Him version:

The bedsprings squeaked, metal rattled, and to any onlooker not clued in, they might assume the man cuffed to the bed and blindfolded was undergoing a torture of the highest cruelty; his limbs writhing against the sheets, black coils turned to tendrils on his salty brow, groans hissed through a clenched jaw. However, they'd be mistaken. Hector was right where he wanted to be. With the person he wanted most. And they were on top of him, like a hunter savoring the last throes of his quarry, rapt with his every twist, salivating over what exquisite depravities he could extract from him next.

His fingers, raking Hector over like talons, dragged the ice down his pebbled pecs, then his stomach, swirling below his navel, provoking another tender gasp from his heaving chest. He arched, skin turned gooseflesh. A hot pang rolled over his groin. His lips curled into something wicked.

With a smile that could rend steel, though he boasted no fangs, he leaned in, whispering, "See? This is what it feels like, Hector: what you feel like to me." His deft hands arabesqued Hector's thigh, traveling up, up, up, a pinky catching on the hem of his boxers, threatening to invade further. And despite how he wished to plunge deep into his underwear, to feel him, febrile and velvet, pump his hardness with the same rapacious hunger compelling him to spill his belly and sink his teeth into his muscle, he held his ground, breath bated, eyes fixated on the man his heart ached for. He wanted the ache. He wanted him. But, not yet. Their game wasn't over.

Hector keened against the restraints, the bar between his plush lips muffling a shaky cry, teeth baring leather. He pretended like he wanted to get away, but his tip beaded a dark blot against the cotton. Hector's brows wrinkled, the corners of his mouth went upturned, then quickly corrected to that helpless wince. His partner's laugh was all smoke and suede, without an ounce of remorse.

"Hector," his fingers edged an inch deeper below the fabric, chiding him in a sultry and low coo, "we both know how good you are with your words." Another inch. Hector flexed. He hummed. "But..."

He whistled cool air against his red-tipped ear. "No more words." he said, his fingers brushing his fraying curls, tucking a black loop into place. "Speak with your body, amorcito. Show me what you want."

The pretenses were gone, the inferno of Hector's sweltering desire vaporizing them. He bucked his hips, seeking friction. His voice, sweet, desperate, begged unintelligibly. Seeing Hector like this, his own cock ached. He debased himself so... easily, so willingly. His lover couldn't help but pant at the sight of him. He took his fingers into his mouth then slipped under Hector's boxers, all while praising that he was being so good for him, painting his hardened length with his sticky spit, it mixing with Hector's dribbling want, wrapping his fingers round him, squeezing, strangling. His other hand spilled the burning candle's wax on Hector's chest and he sobbed, suddenly becoming shy and facing away from him. He chuckled but didn't let up on his ruthless pace. He needed him to feel every ounce; to understand what he'd been doing to him all this time from his vents.

His lush mouth found his nipple and he sucked, tongue laving him, teeth nibbling. The red wax hardened. Hector's breath labored and his abdomen tensed, cock throbbing in his palm. He was close, and his lover knew it, so he slowed, lording his authority over his feverish state. He hoped Hector would beg, shake his hips against his hand, but instead, he slobbered against the gag censoring him, attempting to say something. Concerned, he relieved him of the bar, and he sucked in a gasp.

"Is everything alright, Hector?" he asked, cupping his cheek.

Hector nodded. "It's just..." His head hung low, face flushing bashfully, blindfold visoring his eyes. He listened intently, suddenly full of worry.

"I—I want you, I love you, I need you. So please, kiss me. I'm so close, just, please, kiss me— "

His mouth crashed into his, surprising Hector, and they sighed together. It was all breath and hunger, whimpers so saccharine he forgot he was the aggressor and Hector his prey, lost to the tang of him and his slippery feel. His hand started up again, gradual, then marauding. Hector twisted, pressing against him eagerly. Between the squelching and blood rushing to his own lonely cock, he speared his hand into Hector's hair as if to search for more of him — for some other part he hadn't yet discovered. He needed him. Every mole, scar, wrinkle, it was his. Hector belonged to him and he commanded so, greedily devouring his kiss-bruised lips, his hand pumping Hector's twitching cock. He moaned and he worked him in earnest, guiding, loving.

At the most final moment, he pulled away, saliva trailing between them, springing Hector's length free from the confines of his underwear, and he took his miserably erubescent head into his mouth, cheeks pitting, warmth sliding over the entirety of his cock. Hector winced, calling his name as his climax flooded his mouth.

At the head of the bed, Hector breathed raggedly, his partner drawing every last bit of him out from his half-hard cock. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and curled up next to him, a quiet adoration fuzzing his core. Discarding Hector's blindfold and unfastening the cuffs, they looked at each other, their sex-mussed hair, their sweaty bodies, their glazed eyes, and they laughed. He tucked his head against Hector's chest, on top of the wax, it smelling of jasmine, and he welcomed him, pulling him in, but it was clear there was something else.

He asked what Hector was thinking. He felt the rumble of his voice as Hector spoke.

"Well," his hand rubbed his shoulder, "it's... poking my leg. And it feels so... hot."

Before he could recoil, embarrassed over the state of himself, Hector's arms caged him, strong and unrelenting. With a confidence he rarely glanced from Hector, he turned his chin up to him, both of their faces ablaze, and kissed him, holding him there, soft and delicately.

Hector's other hand sank to the swell of his hips, tentatively as though waiting for him to stop him, but he didn't.

When Hector's lover broke their embrace, he told Hector that he loved him, and Hector placed his lips on his forehead. His fingers finally met him there, brushing past a tuft of hair, then probing, curious and feeling rough against his burning sex.

"After all this time, you have no idea what hearing you say that means to me. Please, let me show you."

They/them version:

The bedsprings squeaked, metal rattled, and to any onlooker not clued in, they might assume the man cuffed to the bed and blindfolded was undergoing a torture of the highest cruelty; his limbs writhing against the sheets, black coils turned to tendrils on his salty brow, groans hissed through a clenched jaw. However, they'd be mistaken. Hector was right where he wanted to be. With the person he wanted most. And they were on top of him, like a hunter savoring the last throes of their quarry, rapt with his every twist, salivating over what exquisite depravities they could extract from him next.

Their fingers, raking him over like talons, dragged the ice down his pebbled pecs, then his stomach, swirling below his navel, provoking another tender gasp from his heaving chest. He arched, skin turned gooseflesh. A hot pang rolled through their belly. Their lips curled into something wicked.

With a smile that could rend steel, though they boasted no fangs, they leaned in, whispering, "See? This is what it feels like, Hector: what you feel like to me." Their deft hands arabesqued his thigh, traveling up, up, up, a pinky catching on the hem of his boxers, threatening to invade further. And despite how they wished to plunge deep into his underwear, to feel him, febrile and velvet, pump his hardness with the same rapacious hunger compelling them to spill his belly and sink their teeth into his muscle, they held their ground, breath bated, eyes fixated on the man their heart ached for. They wanted the ache. They wanted him. But, not yet. Their game wasn't over.

Hector keened against the restraints, the bar between his plush lips muffling a shaky cry, teeth baring leather. He pretended like he wanted to get away, but his tip beaded a dark blot against the cotton. His brows wrinkled, the corners of his mouth went upturned, then quickly corrected to that helpless wince. Their laugh was all smoke and suede, without an ounce of remorse.

"Hector," their fingers edged an inch deeper below the fabric, chiding him in a sultry and low coo, "we both know how good you are with your words." Another inch. He flexed. They hummed. "But..."

They whistled cool air against his red-tipped ear. "No more words." they said, their fingers brushing his fraying curls, tucking a black loop into place. "Speak with your body, amorcito. Show me what you want."

The pretenses were gone, the inferno of his sweltering desire vaporizing them. Hector bucked his hips, seeking friction. His voice, sweet, desperate, begged unintelligibly. Their sex throbbed. He debased himself so... easily, so willingly. They couldn't help but pant at the sight of him. They took their fingers into their mouth then slipped under his boxers, all while praising that he was being so good for them, painting his hardened length with their sticky spit, it mixing with Hector's dribbling want, wrapping their fingers round him, squeezing, strangling. Their other hand spilled the burning candle's wax on his chest and he sobbed, suddenly becoming shy and facing away from them. They chuckled but they didn't let up on their ruthless pace. They needed him to feel every ounce; to understand what he'd been doing to them all this time from his vents.

Their lush mouth found his nipple and they sucked, tongue laving him, teeth nibbling. The red wax hardened. His breath labored and his abdomen tensed, cock throbbing in their palm. He was close, and they knew it, so they slowed, lording their authority over his feverish state. They hoped he'd beg, shake his hips against their hand, but instead, he slobbered against the gag censoring him, attempting to say something. Concerned, they relieved him of the bar, and he sucked in a gasp.

"Is everything alright, Hector?" they asked, cupping his cheek.

He nodded. "It's just..." His head hung low, face flushing bashfully, blindfold visoring his eyes. They listened intently, suddenly full of worry.

"I—I want you, I love you, I need you. So please, kiss me. I'm so close, just, please, kiss me— "

Their mouth crashed into his, surprising him, and they both sighed together. It was all breath and hunger, whimpers so saccharine they forgot they were the aggressor and he their prey, lost to the tang of him and his slippery feel. Their hand started up again, gradual, then marauding. He twisted, pressing against them eagerly. Between the squelching and tremors of longing wracking their lonely sex, they speared their hand into his hair as if to search for more of him — for some other part of him they hadn't yet discovered. They needed him. Every mole, scar, wrinkle, it was theirs. He belonged to them and they commanded so, greedily devouring his kiss-bruised lips, their hand pumping his twitching cock. Hector moaned and they worked him in earnest, guiding, loving.

At the most final moment, they pulled away, saliva trailing between them, springing his length free from the confines of his underwear, and they took his miserably erubescent head into their mouth, cheeks pitting, warmth sliding over the entirety of his cock. He winced, calling their name as his climax flooded their mouth.

At the head of the bed, Hector breathed raggedly, them drawing every last bit of him out from his half-hard cock. When they finished, they wiped their mouth and curled up next to him, a quiet adoration fuzzing their core. Discarding his blindfold and unfastening the cuffs, the two of them looked at each other, their sex-mussed hair, their sweaty bodies, their glazed eyes, and laughed. They tucked their head against his chest, on top of the wax, it smelling of jasmine, and Hector welcomed them, pulling them in, but it was clear there was something else.

They asked what he was thinking. They felt the rumble of his voice as he spoke.

"Well," his hand rubbed their shoulder, "I can feel... it against me. And... it's so warm."

Before they could recoil, embarrassed over the state of themself, his arms caged them, strong and unrelenting. With a confidence they rarely glanced from Hector, he turned their chin up to him, both of their faces ablaze, and kissed them, holding them there, soft and delicately.

His other hand sank to the swell of their hips, tentatively as though waiting for them to stop him, but they didn't.

When they broke their embrace, they told him that they loved him, and he placed his lips on their forehead. His fingers finally met them there, brushing past a tuft of hair, then probing, curious and feeling rough against their aching sex.

"After all this time, you have no idea what hearing you say that means to me. Please, let me show you."

yeah so hopefully this delivered. i'll also write hector being in a more dominant position eventually, but this is what came to me most immediately upon reading your ask! anyways, comments and reblogs bring me life. let me know what yall think ^^

spot any typos? please lmk so i can edit. i swear i read my writing a million times and something always manages to slip through the cracks lolol

[demonic0angel]

Prompt: Dan Phatom as an inmate of Arkham Asylum?

Part 2, part 3

Harley hummed. She eyed the newest inmate, a gorgeous hunk of meat with dark raven hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing the usual orange suit, but he wore it like a model, with the buttons opened and sleeves rolled up, highlighting his broad arms and tight muscles. He was as beautiful as a demon, and even though Ivy was way prettier, Harley still couldn’t help but be curious.

Harley nodded to herself, thinking for only a moment. Then she waved a hand, calling out, “Yoo hoo! You there! Hey, handsome! Why don’t you come here and spend some time with me and Ivy?”

Ivy rolled her eyes next to her. “Harley!” She hissed.

The man paused, tilted his head, and then smiled, flashing his sharp fangs before he crossed the prison yard to sit down with the two. People stared at them, but the man didn’t seem bothered.

“Hello,” he said politely, “what’s up?”

“You’re new here, ain’tcha?” Harley said rhetorically. “What’re you in for?”

The man chuckled. “I thought it was rude to ask?”

“Nahhh, in here? It doesn’t matter. Everyone already knows why we’re here, there’s no secrets around here. So? What’re you in here for?”

The man smiled. “I started teasing a little bird I found and then he started getting mad at me. I didn’t like how he made Batman go after me, so I made a building explode and I was tossed into here. I didn’t even kill anyone though!”

Seeing how large and old he was, Harley was a little worried and had to ask, “Which little bird?”

“The beautiful one with the black and blue suit and the pretty smile,” the man said dreamily, curling a lock of raven hair around his clawed fingers as he looked towards the sky in a daydream. “He was pretty funny too.”

Harley immediately cooed. Anyone who thought Nightwing was funny clearly hadn’t been hit over the head by his escrima sticks while he threw out obnoxious puns, but the way he described him was so sweet! He was clearly insane, so that was completely okay in her books!

“Awww, that’s so cute! Are you a meta or what? Those fangs o’ yours don’t look human!” Harley said, while Ivy shook her head exasperatedly.

The man shook his head with a small smile. “Not exactly. But I guess I do have meta powers.”

Ivy asked, “Then doesn’t that just make you a meta?”

The man shrugged and then asked, “What about you ladies?” Harley knew that he was just dodging the question, but she didn’t mind, so she began to prattle on about the recent museum break-in she and the girls did, but Selina got away while she and Ivy were caught. Selina was planning a break out for them soon, so they just had to sit tight and wait!

The man smiled, fangs appearing again. “Can I join you? I want to see that little bird again.”

Harley beamed, “Sure thing! What’s your name?” while Ivy groaned.

The man smiled and reached over to shake her hand. His hands were cold and large, like a chunk of ice. He smiled and his pupils sharpened into slits, but oddly enough, he still looked friendly, like a tiger in a way.

“Please. Call me Wraith.”

[kaidoslastbraincell]

Baby Saja is not so baby in this👀 also...his demon form!? Take my soul already😩

Pairings: Baby Saja x reader

Everyone saw him as the baby of the group...the fans and the rest of the band. It was how he got his idol name. He was the youngest after all, even among the other four demons. It had never bothered him before. Even when he first took a liking to you, and you'd constantly tell him how cute he was. He enjoyed being babied by you in the physical sense - the way you'd run your fingers through his hair while he napped with his head in your lap. How you were the first to approach him with drinks and snacks during rehearsals. But when the other guys would tease him in front of you...that pissed him off. He didn't want to be seen as the baby in your eyes. He was a man. Your man. Hell, you even knew he was a demon and didn't go running for the hills. Fuck, maybe he was getting soft. At first, you were just another soul for Gwi Ma, but at some point (he couldn't figure out when), he wanted your soul for himself. It smelled sweet and warm, and he'd never take it from you. It made you you. Just being with you gave him enough of a taste.

As soon as you walked through the door to the studio, all attention was on you. He knew you were beautiful. Hell, you were the most stunning girl he'd ever encountered in this era. As Jinu called for a break, he made his way over to you, only for Abby to reach you first. The muscle-brain slung a heavy arm around your shoulders, flexing in the process as he leaned into your space. You were clearly uncomfortable with the intrusion, and Baby both loved the way you less than enjoyed the attention of other men and loathed the fact that someone had made you feel that way.

"Sup, gorgeous," Abby drawled, eyes glowing as he flashed a fanged smile.

You patted his arm awkwardly. "Hey, Abby."

Jinu sighed as Mystery and Romance snickered at Baby's misery. He was close to losing his shit with the shameless flirt. Everyone thought Romance was bad? Well, Abby was worse. When your boyfriend got closer, eyes flashing in irritation and fangs slightly bared, you relaxed, ducking out of Abby's grip and dashing forward. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders in a tight hug, and he wrapped his around your waist, glaring at his bandmate over your shoulder. When you pressed a kiss to his cheek, he actually smiled.

"Hi, sweetness," he murmured against your neck.

"Hey, love."

You pulled a couple of things out of the plastic bag in your hand before handing it to Jinu.

"Got these for you guys on my way here," you grinned at the dark-haired boy.

He smiled back. "Thanks, y/n. You're the best."

Turning your attention back to your boyfriend, you held the tub of lollipops and melon iced tea out to him. "These are for you."

He took them from you before placing them down on the floor next to him. When he stood back to his full height, he brushed his fingers against your cheek before carding his fingers through the back of your hair. A noise of surprise caught in your throat when he pulled you in for a rough kiss, his fangs catching on your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered closed as you relaxed into him, gripping onto the front of his sweater. When his tongue brushed against yours and you sighed, he cracked his eyes open, glaring harder at Abby, who watched in irritation.

Pulling away, he drew you closer to his chest in a possessive embrace, growling softly.

"Mine."

[kissitbttr]

holup— ima need a moment with my thoughts 🥵🥵 miguel sending reader’s ex a photo mid-sex is so petty and so him!! he would follow up with a video of himself giving you back shots (he’ll hide your face because he’s a gentlemen (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)), flip the camera around to show his face with a smirk and say “lose her number” because he’s a cocky ass mf

MAAAN you’re onto something anon, cuz a waterfall just breaks down in between my legs🤤🤤

-

“hmm, you like that huh, baby?”

his lips pulls into a lazy smirk, heavy panting as he pounds you from behind. both of his hands gripping onto your hips, talons digging slightly into the skin giving you the perfect pain of pleasure,

“yes papi—fuck yes” you mewl, mouth slightly wide open as you release another moan that makes his cock twitch. “i love how deep you get inside me”

he exhales a dark chuckle as he pounds faster, “sé que te gusta. dirty, dirty fucking girl.” then he leans slightly to whisper on your ear. “only for me, hm?”

you nod, biting down onto your lower lip as you’re running out of things to say. your brain tends to fogged when you have his cock deep inside your cunt, but you wouldn’t have it any other way,

as he about to fist your hair up, he hears a ‘ding’ coming from your phone. his brows furrowed curiously, because who the fuck is hitting up your phone at this hour? couldn’t be someone from work,

“who’s that?” he asks breathlessly as he watches you pull your head back before grabbing your phone and check,

“aw fuck”

“what?” he asks again, hearing you groan. “who is it?”

“remember Jonathan?” you ask as you look over your shoulder at him

oh man, he does not need to be told twice.

his expression then slowly formed into anger and annoyance, grunting in disgust as he snatches your phone,

“i’ll teach him a fucking lesson” he says through gritted teeth, hips snapping back into yours as he continues to thrust even faster,

miguel unlocks your phone, pressing the camera before he starts to take a video of your backside. the sound of your dirty moans are filling the room as he plunges deeper, his other hand coming to give your ass a smack.

the word ‘papi’ and ‘miguel’ keeps falling off your lips like a prayer, and it just feeds his ego even more. because he knows that Jonathan will watch this video and learns that you don’t belong to that sorry excuse of a man anymore.

no. you belong to him.

“tell me, baby” he adjusts the camera to the back of your head, making sure that your face isn’t in it. “who’s pussy is this?”

“yours” you say without any hesitation, knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets far too hard. “and no one else’s”

“good girl” he then flips the camera to show his face. his expression is dead serious, eyes locked into the screen as if he’s staring Jonathan in person. and for the icing on a cake, his fangs make a tiny bit appearance just to creep him off.

“lose her number, tú hijo de puta. or i’ll kill you” with that he sends it to your ex, throwing your phone to the side. “now he fucking knows to not text you anymore ”

hearing that makes you flush as you giggle. miguel’s hand slowly glide down against you back and pressing you onto the mattress so he can lay his body down completely on top. “my woman” he whispers lowly into your ear,

“hm, maybe next time if he does it again, you should take a picture of me sucking your cock, right papi?” you suggest with a sly smirk,

he groans at that, his hand coming up to choke you as the other supporting his weight beside your torso.

“ay, that’s why you’re my everything, mami”

[bruhstories]

guilt

summary: you're looking for an end to your misery and guilt, but find healing instead. pairing: dante sparda x succubus!reader | game-oriented warnings: reader has a death wish and suffers from meltdowns, unprotected p in v, fighting sex?? swearing, descriptions of reader's demonic form, afab!reader, fighting for dominance, slightly sub!reader, some aftercare w/c: 5.1k

a/n: aight, here it is! i hope y'all don't mind a bit of build up lol

You were created with one purpose to fulfil — weaken humanity.

And you did. For centuries, you crept into the dreams of soldiers, doctors, priests, kings, disturbing their peace with your beauty, syphoning their life force with your body. You ruined marriages, impaired armies, even, all in the name of the King of the Underworld. But not without guilt.

See, when Mundus selected you for his demonic crusade, he overlooked one particular flaw that you managed to hide quite well — compassion. Not that you were the first demon to give a shit about humans, but you were one of the few who experienced shame so strong that you considered death to be a form of penance.

Only, death wouldn't have brought humanity any benefit. So, you ran away, slipped through a gate between the worlds and hid away for decades, until you were sure no demon was looking for you anymore. Inspired by Sparda's selflessness, you picked up odd jobs, helping the humans you once actively tried to destroy. You were a village teacher who disappeared, a military nurse who died on the battlefield, a firefighter who burned, a police officer who got shot — even if a body was never found — all while battling your own demons.

When you were born, you were born with a weakness, an insatiable, aching hunger for sex, an urge you needed to suppress and control. And it consumed you, like lava flowing through your veins that burned holes through your skin. Some days were easier. Others weren't, because when it rained, it poured, and you locked yourself inside of your bathroom, submerged in ice cold water just to stop the impulses from taking over. Your body, your real, demonic body, decorated with blood red scales, and a serpentine tail to match, with horns and slitted pupils, were harder to control when the urges hit, and you felt bad lying to your boss when you called in sick.

Because of your abstinence, the carnal cravings became frequent, more violent than ever before, and you knew the only way to go back to normal was to give in to them every once in a while, but you couldn't. You couldn't break the humans that took you in when you needed them the most. There were only two options left — to die, or to fuck.

You met with Enzo at the Bull's Eye Bar, hood over your head to hide the horns, gloves to hide the talons. You didn't take your sunglasses off, not wanting to scare the one man that knew the truth about you. He sat down next to you, but you quickly moved away, leaving one barstool between the two of you. The last thing you wanted was to rampage through the bar and kill him.

"I'm not afraid of you, kid. It's just a bad day." He tried to comfort you, but you shook your head.

"I think my time's up, Enzo." Your voice was meek and raspy.

"Don't be dramatic! Buy me a drink and let's talk about it."

You smiled at his optimism (and opportunism), accidentally flashing your fangs, and while you could tell Enzo was taken aback by them, he didn't leave. So, you bought him a drink and talked about it.

"I don't think I can take it anymore. Just being here makes me want to... jump your bones." You cringed at your own words.

"Who would've thought I still got it at my age?"

"It's not funny. You know that would kill you."

"I know." Enzo sighed. "Listen, I know a guy-"

"No. Absolutely not." You shook your head and sat up ready to leave.

"Sit down, girl. I'm not finished." He grabbed the glass full of ice-cold water that you ordered and splashed you with it.

"Why on Earth did you do that?" You froze, shocked by Enzo's behaviour.

"To cool you off. Did it work?"

"I- well- yeah, actually." You felt your body temperature go down.

"Good, now listen."

It was a stupid idea, but it was an idea nonetheless, better than the one you had, anyway. The red neon sign in front of you almost blinded your eyes, particularly the silhouette of the girl, but you walked closer to the building and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, you decided to push open the door, letting yourself in. Your heels clicked on the wooden floor as you wearily approached the front desk, with nothing but a rotary phone and the photo of a beautiful woman on it.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Your voice echoed in the building, and you didn't dare to stray away from the desk.

"Shop's... closed."

Turning on your heels, you looked to your left to see a man with wet white hair sticking to his cheekbones, wearing nothing but a pair of leather trousers, beads of water dripping down his bare chest. God, he was stunning, and it did little to help your condition.

"I'm sorry, but I really need your help." You could barely breathe. "Enzo sent me."

"Still, shop's closed." He shrugged and walked past you towards the stairs. Underneath the landing was a white fridge, and the man opened it and grabbed himself a beer.

"Please, you're a devil hunter. Dante, right?"

"That I am."

"Good, because I need you to hunt one for me. Please." You begged him again, and after a few sips from his drink and careful consideration, he sat in his chair, feet propped on the antique desk.

"Alright, I'll bite. What am I hunting?"

You sighed, pulling down your hood and removing your sunglasses while your heart beats quickened.

"Me."

He paused drinking, blue eyes staring at you, and even though he was trying to hide it, you could tell he'd never seen the type of demon you were before. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you unbuttoned your trench coat, letting it fall down and pool at your feet, then took off the gloves. With each article of clothing you peeled off, more of your demonic nature was left exposed, but you had enough humanity in you to not strip all of your clothes. You wanted to die with dignity.

"Please be quick." Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt hot tears roll down your cheeks. You didn't want to die, not really, but you would be doing humans a favour if you did.

"Save your tears. Devils don't cry."

Dante was harsh with his words, but he was right — you didn't deserve that, you weren't human. But then, why were you afraid? Why did you feel centuries of guilt haunting you in your last moments? Why could you see the face of every man and woman you tormented in their sleep whenever you closed your eyes? Was that not human enough?

"I'm sorry, I can't help it." You said, eyes still shut and your fingers tugging at the hem of your dress.

"What kind of demon are you?" He asked, and you sighed.

"What difference does it make? You kill all kinds of demons, don't you?"

"Just curious." Dante nonchalantly said.

You opened your eyes, slitted pupils following him through the room. Was he stalling? Was he even the man Enzo recommended? You were hoping for a quick, clean death, not an interrogation.

"I'm the worst kind." You said, praying it would irk him, make Dante want to kill you faster. "The cowardly kind. The kind that shows up in your dreams and torments you, sucks the life out of you for sustenance, that makes men lose their minds. Not blood and gore, but pleasure and pain. And I am begging you to end my life."

"Why?"

"Why does it fucking matter?" Your voice lost its sweetness, now dark and low. "What matters is I hurt people, lots of people." You dropped down on your knees, lifting your dress inch by inch. "And I wanted to be like him, like Sparda, wanted to be good!" Your sharp talons clawed at the skin on your cheeks, leaving burning marks under them. "But I can't fight it anymore, it's eating me alive! Please, Dante, please do something!"

You were hysterical at that point, sobbing, screaming in pain, dripping with sweat. Dante found your eyes — full of both lust and grief — and your body shook spasmodically, like you were possessed by yourself.  Your hips rolled, thighs squeezed together while you tore the collar of your dress, wriggling, writhing in pain. So much pain. That was your penance.

He was genuinely shocked by the conflict within you, the battle you fought for God knows how long, and he could tell you regretted it. In fact, Dante pitied you.

"Kill me, kill me-" You choked on your words, throwing yourself at his feet. "Please, please, please-"

"I'm not gonna kill you." Dante stepped back, then crouched next to you, one hand placed on your shoulder.

You flinched and hissed at the man, his touch sending a wave of heat through your body, but you propped yourself on your elbows and pushed yourself back, as far away from him as possible, crawling into a corner. There was very little sanity left in your brain, and you eyed the door — you had to run again, or else you could have hurt him. Leaping towards the door, you found yourself caught by his arms, and he overpowered you with ease, holding you while you tried to fight him.

"Let me go!" Your fists slammed against his bare chest. "Please, I need to go, need to feed, need to fuck-"

Agony. You were in agony. Dante swept you off your feet, knocking the wind out of you as he threw you on his shoulder to carry you. You tried to put up a fight, tried to wrestle out of his grasp, but he was much, much stronger. Almost like he wasn't human at all. Dante practically dragged you to the bathroom, forcing you into the bathtub, despite your protests. But he was doing you a favour, really.

The cold water snapped you back to reality, even if it was momentary, and your convulsing body relaxed. Your breathing and heart beats slowed down, and you sighed, watching the tub fill with water. Dante opened the window, and the cool late-night breeze tickled your skin.

"How did you know about the temperature?" You whispered, too ashamed to even look at him.

"Hell's cold. Thought you might be homesick." Dante leaned against the edge of the bathtub and you snorted at his remark. "You got a name?"

"Y/N."

"Your real name." He folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm trying to forget it. Trying to die, too, but you're making it harder." You scoffed.

"Oh, yeah, not happening." Dante turned the tap off. "Enzo knows about you." It wasn't a question at all.

"Yeah, he believed I could change. So did I, but I guess I'm a demon through and through. Any reason why you didn't shoot me on the spot?"

"Eeeh." He shrugged. "Guess I saw potential in you. You're pretty weak, though."

"Gee, thanks, Dante." Your finger tapped on the surface of the water, creating small ripples.

"No, that's a good thing. It means I don't need to tie you up while I figure out a solution." He rubbed his chin, and your eyes followed his hand, stopping on his white stubble. Shit, he was a little too handsome for his own good.

"Not to be rude, but are you out of your mind? There is no solution, only death."

"But you don't want to die."

You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Of course you didn't. But what choice did you have?

"How long until your next... meltdown?"

"I don't know, a week? Two? They're becoming more frequent and less... bearable." You shivered, and Dante stepped away to bring you a towel.

"Anything else I need to know?" He helped you stand up in the tub.

"This is awkward, and contradictory, but feeding helps me regain control."

"Feeding?" He rose a brow.

"You know what I mean."

"I really don't."

"You do, and I don't wanna say it." You snatched the towel from him and dabbed it on your skin.

"The first step is acceptance. Don't be a prude, it doesn't suit you." Dante closed the window while you stepped out of the bathtub, water dripping down the tiled floor.

"What, are you a psychiatrist? Fine, it's sex! I need to have sex!" You said that a bit too loudly. "There, happy?"

"Well, it definitely makes it easier." He closed the gap between the two of you, backing you up into the bathroom corner.

"You're crazy. It'll kill you."

He laughed. Dante full on laughed in your face while you stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Believe me, it'll take more than that to kill me, princess. But, by all means, if you have a better idea, spit it out."

"I can't, I'm not ready." You shook your head.

"Bold of you to say that. You know, considering you're a sex demon and all." Dante's harsh observation stung you, and again, tears fell.

"You're an asshole." You whimpered like a wounded dog. "A first-class asshole. You don't even know how hurtful that was. You don't even know me."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes! Yes, you are! I have to kill to survive. Do you know how fucked up that is? I can't believe Enzo sent me here. I'm leaving." You pushed him away with all the strength you could muster and opened the bathroom door.

"If you leave, you'll end up hurting someone. Or yourself." Dante said, and you froze.

Maybe he was right, maybe he could help. He did overpower you, and humans couldn't really do that. You spent too much time away from Hell to keep up to date with the news, but you heard rumours of half-demons. Sparda's offsprings in particular.

"Who are you?" You turned to look at him.

"Just someone who's not so different from you. Stay and find out. Or leave, and I'll have to hunt you."

He knew how to bargain.

"Can I at least have some dry clothes?"

His shirt was big on you, swallowing your entire body in it, but it was comfortable, and most importantly, dry. Dante offered you a beer, but you politely declined — alcohol riled you up. He offered you a spare room in his strange shop, and you locked yourself inside of it, refusing to sleep. Your hunger wasn't just physical — it transcended into the realm of dreams, and you didn't want to torment the man who wanted to help you. But he was kind enough not to pressure you into sleeping with him, even if deep down you knew that was the only way to keep you sane.

When you were mentally stable, Dante taught you how to shoot and fight, and when you lost the plot, he forced you into the bathroom, hosing you down with ice cold water. When he left for missions, you begged him to chain you up and lock you in your room, and when he came back, he brought you back to reality. But it was becoming worse than ever. The weeks between your outbursts turned into days, and you were harder to handle each time. Still, Dante didn't even try to convince you to give in. If anything, he admired your stubbornness.

It was late at night when the devil hunter came back from his mission, and the first thing he did was to run upstairs and check on you. Dante turned around on the hallway, stopping when he saw the door to your room wide open and empty. The chains that were supposed to bound you while he was gone were broken, making him think that it wasn't you that somehow escaped, but that someone, or something, broke in. A quick scan around the room and Dante concluded that there was no sign of trespassing — the window of your room was locked from the inside, and so was the front door. Nothing was different, not even the claw marks on the floor.

He frantically checked every room upstairs, calling out your name, asking where you were, but before he went downstairs, Dante stopped at the top of the staircase. He didn't check his bedroom.

His hand hovered over the doorknob and he slowly turned it, quietly pushing it open. Even with the lights off, Dante knew you were there, the outline of your body barely visible in the dim moonlight. He flicked the light switch, and there you were, sprawled on his bed in a torn shirt that left very little to his imagination. But something wasn't right. You weren't tormented by that insatiable hunger, weren't convulsing, you just looked at him through thick lashes with those slitted pupils that he came to both love and hate.

"You're here." Dante tilted his head, one hand close to his gun. Just in case.

"I am." You purred, rolling on your side, your serpentine tail coiling around your ankle.

"Why are you in my room?"

"I was drawn to it. Well, to your scent." You simply shrugged, and he couldn't understand why you were so calm, so docile. Unless...

"Have you fed?" Dante stepped closer, gun now in his hand.

"Mmm, wouldn't you like to know?" You flashed your fangs and fixed him with your eyes, like a viper assessing its prey. "What are you gonna do, shoot me?"

Damn it. You really had to go and fuck everything up. But when he took another step, he could hear, no, feel your heart thumping against your ribcage, too fast for how calm you were trying to appear. Then he saw the beads of sweat on your skin, and the claw marks on your neck, the hair strands clinging to your talons, the wound on your lower lip, and the tears welling up in your eyes. He saw how you hurt yourself for fear of hurting others.

"For a demon, you're a pretty horrible liar." He tossed his gun on the table next to his bed, and you wailed in pain, unable to pretend anymore.

You understood two things in the months you spent with Dante: that he wasn't fully human, and that he wasn't going to give up on you. Yet it didn't make yielding any easier. The last time you fed was at least a century ago. Even if Dante did let you feed off of him, there was no guarantee it would help since, well, he wasn't fully human. But he wasn't going to kill you, and you were running out of self-control.

Fuck.

"Let's get you in the bathtub." Dante's voice was gentler than ever.

"No."

"No? Y/N, I'm not gonna shoot you, that's final."

"I don't... I don't want you to shoot me." You sighed, chewing on your lower lip.

He didn't say anything, and instead waited for you to speak.

"Are you sure it won't kill you?"

"Positive." He nodded.

"Fine. Just know it won't be like with a human."

"What, are you gonna crawl on the ceiling or something?" Dante joked, but the look on your face told him you didn't find it amusing.

"I don't know, I can't remember what it's like."

Oh, you poor thing. He couldn't imagine going through centuries without feeling a touch, a kiss, even a hug. Not that he got laid often — women were drawn to him until he opened his dumb mouth, but it was their loss.

"It's alright, I'll take care of you if you'll let me." Dante promised, and you believed him.

Whether it was your desperation or his confidence, you didn't know, but you truly believed that he could help. You just really hoped he wouldn't fucking die in the process.

"Please." The word was quiet, weak, but full of desire. "I don't know how long until I fully lose it, Dante."

In the blink of an eye, he stood beside the bed, again proving that he wasn't human, and you slowly gained courage. Maybe it would be okay, maybe you would be okay. Your body reacted when you felt his presence, kneeling on the mattress to be at his level. Locking eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat and placed your hands on his shoulders. He felt like fire under your fingertips, and it made you want to rip open his shirt, which you tried, but Dante wrapped his fingers around your wrists, holding them in place.

"Down, girl."

"I can't, I'm starving."

"I know." He pressed his lips onto your knuckles, so gentle that you thought you might spontaneously combust. "But you need to take it slowly. Don't let it control you."

You nodded, albeit the heat and pain between your legs killing you, and tried to calmly unbutton his shirt when he released your wrists. Your hands trembled, failing miserably with the first button, and while Dante pitied you, he refused to give you a hand. It was tough love, but it was necessary.

"Please, Dante, please help me, please fuck me, pleasepleaseplease-" Your incoherent babbling tempted him, it truly did, but it felt wrong. It felt like he would be taking advantage of your weakness. Men would have walked on corpses to hear a beautiful woman beg like that, and they would have been persuaded in a split second.

But Dante wasn't a normal man. You asked for help, and he would do just that, but not how you wanted. He placed two fingers onto your luscious lips, silencing your devilish tongue, and it worked, because you stopped and stared at him.

"You need to calm down." He said, and you nodded before opening your mouth to suck on his digits. "Not like that." Dante sighed, the leather trousers now very uncomfortable on him.

He didn't tell you to stop, though, because having something to suck on helped you focus on unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. God, you were something else, something equally beautiful and grotesque — a demon with a human heart.

His shirt fell on the floor, and Dante finally pulled his fingers out of your mouth. Your hands rushed to his belt, only for him to swat them away, telling you to relax, to enjoy the moment, but how could you enjoy it when your skin itched with impatience, while he had the patience of a saint?

"I need you, Dante, please. Have I not been good?" The pain in your voice mixed with the sorrowful look in your eyes had him weak, but he remained focused.

"So good." He growled, slowly losing his cool. There was demon blood inside of him, too, after all. "But I need you to stay calm, yeah? Can you do that for me?"

Another reluctant nod, even if you flesh was burning and your heart was racing. Taking a deep breath in, you dragged your sharp claws down Dante's chest, down his abdomen, past his V-line, and only then did he let you unbuckle his belt. You violently pulled it away, tossing it somewhere on the bed, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and holding it in place.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, and you're going to behave."

"Can't promise that." You scoffed at his demand.

He didn't quip back, but instead pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you with a hunger greater than yours, a kiss so sloppy and wet that you thought it was his first time. It wasn't, he was just that needy, and you kissed him back, looping your arms around his neck, moving closer to him until he almost lost his balance. When he pulled away, you whimpered, pathetically begging him to kiss you again, to touch you, to fuck you, the sound of his zipper shutting you up.

"Fuck this." Dante pushed you onto the mattress so hard you bounced back. "Can't hold back anymore."

The grin on your lips should've been a red flag, but he didn't care anymore. His thick, hard cock sprung out of his boxers and you instinctively spread your legs, only for him to grab your ankles and pull you closer, earning a giggle from you.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, and Dante groaned when he felt how impossibly wet you were. He really wanted to take his time with you, but he was still a man, and you were a succubus. It was never going to be slow and steady. He pushed past your slick, velvety folds, not giving you any time to adjust to his girth because you took him so well.

You arched your back when he bottomed out, power coursing through your veins as you regained life strength, and he was still alive. For now. His first thrusts were brutal, full of lust, rage, love and hatred, and you bucked your hips, brain and body overwhelmed by the sudden strength inside of you.

"Thank you, thank you!" You cried out, latching your arms behind his shoulders. "Fuck, I've never felt so good!" Your sobs echoed in his bedroom, and with the newfound strength, you managed to hook one leg around Dante's thigh, pushing him on his back.

The mattress dipped under his weight, his hands roaming all over your body to rip the already torn dress off of you. You frantically bounced up and down his cock, palms on his chest to support yourself. He let you have your fun, let you ride him as he took in your beauty, but Dante wasn't in the mood to submit. Not after the months of torture you made him go through. With a supernatural force, he sent you flying across the room, and you hissed when your shoulder blades hit the wall that cracked behind you.

Dante leaped towards you, pinning your hands above your head while you wriggled and fought against his restraint. You got a taste of power and needed more, and he was about to give it to you, but not before crushing your lips under his, reminding you that you were not in charge. Yet, you didn't want to take the hint, and instead coiled your tail around his ankle, yanking it until Dante lost balance and let go of your wrists.

What was supposed to help you turned into a battle for dominance, both with Dante and with yourself, because deep down you knew that you should've yielded, but it wasn't in your nature to submit. You slipped away from him, but he was quicker, grabbing your arm and turning you around, his chest pressed against your back. Dante held you despite your protests, before slowly bringing you down to the floor, on your knees.

"Relax-"

"Don't wanna relax-" You snarled, convulsing under his arms. "Wanna, oh-"

The words melted in your mouth when he slammed his cock back into you, painstakingly slowly rolling his hips while your eyes filled up with tears of ecstasy. You never submitted, always dominated, but the way Dante pushed your head down and fucked you felt so good that you couldn't help but lift your ass up for him to take you however he pleased.

"See? That's much better, isn't it?" He fucking cooed at you, and you sobbed.

"Yes! Yes, yes, oh, God, yes!" You cried out when the tip of his cock bullied your cervix, stretching your sore cunt out. "More, please! I need more!"

"Greedy girl." Dante's fingers bruised your hips, gripping them so tightly you thought he might rip your flesh off.

The power that seeped into your veins was minuscule compared to the the new sensation that you felt — addiction. You became addicted to him, to his touch and his scent, to his cock, like it healed something within you, like you didn't live to suck the life out of humans anymore, but to be with him and only him.

It seemed as though Dante fucked you eternally, and your once insatiable hunger disappeared with each thrust, replaced by pure bliss. Your arms wobbled under the pressure and pleasure, and you bucked your hips against his, chanting his name like a prayer.

"I'm close! Dante, I'm gonna cum!"

"You poor thing." He whispered with a hint of pity in his voice while brutally slamming into you. "When was the last time you came?"

"Never did, no man could make me cum! No one fucked me like you do!"

And Dante believed you. He believed every single word that came out of your sinful mouth, because you came to him looking to put an end to all the misery you caused through sheer sacrifice. You were desperate, and desperation made you honest.

Like clay in his nimble hands, you let yourself be sculpted and shaped by Dante into something else, something new, something better. Oddly enough, he felt the same, as though all his life he'd been navigating through a long, dark tunnel, and he finally found the light at the end.

You came undone on his cock with only his name spilling from your lips, waves of both pleasure and power coursing through your quivering body. When your arms and knees gave in and you almost hit the floor, Dante caught you, one arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. His hips stuttered while he held you, fucking you until your cunt felt hot and sticky with his cum. Slowly and carefully, Dante pulled out, and without a word, he picked you up, carrying you to the en-suite bathroom while you buried your nose in the crook of his neck.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentler than ever before as he placed you in the bathtub.

"Like I can live another century without going batshit crazy." You sighed, catching his wrist in your hands. "Thank you. I know you were probably disgusted by me the whole time. I'll leave as soon as I wash myself."

"Actually," Dante tilted his head, a grin spread across his lips, "I was hoping you'd stay."

He wished he could frame the priceless look on your face, with your dishevelled hair, mouth agape and glossy eyes.

"Why?"

"Think about it." Dante turned the tap on, kneeling by the bathtub. "You said you wanna help humanity, didn't you?" He asked, and you nodded. "Great. Then what better way of helping it than by hunting demons? You can already shoot, I made sure of that, and you can definitely put up a fight. Learned that the hard way."

Your eyes darted to the water flowing from the tap, pondering his suggestion. Could it be? Have you found a purpose for yourself? One that didn't involve faking your death or disappearing from villages? One that allowed you to be yourself, without hiding your true nature? One where you didn't have to be so alone?

"I'd like that."

"Good." Dante's fingers brushed through your hair. "And I'll personally make sure you're not going batshit crazy."

"Gee, I'm beginning to think you actually enjoyed that."

"I reserve the right to neither confirm, nor deny."

[yeonzzzn]

🤍give up heaven: sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 10.6k

synopsis: when you run into your best friend's ex-boyfriend at your favorite coffee shop thinking it was just a coincidence until seeing him became a daily thing. You can't get him out of your head and start to feel guilty at the very thought of him and things take a turn when he starts making advances towards you.

genre: hockey player!hoon with small mentions of figure skater!hoon, ex-bestfriend bf!hoon, hoon's ex-girlfriend best friend, friends to lovers, slight smut.

warnings: swearing, implied sex, make-out session, fingering, jerking off, verbal fight between reader, the ex, and sunghoon, MINORS DNI. lmk if i've missed anything!

You tried to avert your eyes when you saw him walk into the coffee shop. Pulling the scarf around your neck up higher and turning your face in the opposite direction. 

His voice echoed throughout the small shop, ordering his regular drink. Why do you still remember how he liked his coffee?

You slowly glanced up, his back was facing towards you, his hand reaching for his wallet from the back pocket of his blue jeans. 

After paying, he stepped back from the counter. You quickly turned your head away again, praying he didn’t see you or would even notice you. 

“Y/N?” 

Well, shit.

There's no point in hiding now. You slowly lifted your head, seeing the soft smile on his face as he slightly leaned to the side to get a look at your face, “It really is you.” 

You awkwardly smile, “Yes, it’s me.” 

Get your shit together, Y/N, come on.

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short when his name was called, “Sunghoon! Your iced coffee is ready!” 

“Be right back,” his knuckles tapped on the table, his smile growing. 

You carefully watched as he got his coffee and made his way back to your table, pulling the chair across from you out and seating himself. 

“How have you been?” he asked excitedly, his long fingers wrapping around his coffee, taking a small sip, “It’s been what? A year?” 

You nodded, wrapping your fingers around your warm coffee, “I see you still drink iced coffee even during the winter, some things never change huh?” 

Sunghoon softly chuckled, his smile just growing brighter and wider, his natural fangs peeking from his lips, “Everyone knows iced coffee is superior,” he leaned his elbows onto the table, “Your hair is longer, it looks good. You look good.” 

You smiled, “Thank you, you look really good as well, Sunghoon.” 

Sunghoon gave you a soft smirk and flexed his arms, “Why thank you! Been working out a lot lately.” 

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee, “You really haven’t changed.” 

His laugh was enough to make you laugh as well, the corners of your lips curving upwards no matter how hard you tried to push it down. 

It felt like old times. 

Speaking about old times…

His smile finally faded, the happy expression he once had was also gone, his face relaxing into a kinda of sad softness. 

His voice trembled, “How is uhh…how is she?” his eyes darted to the corner of the table. 

Oh…he’s still in love with her.

Your lips thinned into a line, trying to figure out what information was appropriate to give out. 

“She’s really good.” it wasn’t a total lie. 

Sunghoon nodded, the corner of his lips barely curling, “That’s… um…that’s good then. I’m glad she’s doing well.” 

It broke your heart that he couldn’t even say your best friend's name. It must still hurt even after a year. 

Sunghoon dated your best friend for almost three years. You remember when the two of you first met him at your college's hockey game. 

He bumped into the two of you, spilling his soda all down your best friend's outfit. Oh, man was she pissed. It didn’t take Sunghoon long to convince her to let him make it up to her. 

After that, they were inseparable. 

Sunghoon was a part of the hockey team, but due to a leg injury, he had to sit out until he was completely healed. But that didn’t stop him from attending every hockey game to support his teammates. He even dragged your best friend along with him. Which eventually led you to tag along as well. 

The three of you became that trio that was inseparable. A package deal. If you saw one of us, the other two were sure to be right behind. 

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Their relationship got toxic. They fought more than normally and on hangout days, either your best friend was missing, or Sunghoon was missing. Nothing felt right and the air between your friend group grew thick. Hard to breathe. 

Sunghoon eventually stopped talking to you, and then they broke up. Your best friend stopped hanging around you and slowly stopped speaking to you as well. You figured it was due to the heartbreak, that she just needed her space. You didn’t think it would lead to your friendship slowly becoming nonexistent. 

You two weren’t exactly best friends anymore, but after she healed from the breakup, she came back around. It just wasn’t the same as before Sunghoon came into the picture. 

You two still barely talk, and barely see each other, but still kept that contact and hung out when you could. 

You never understood why she pushed you away, but the heart does crazy things when it’s hurting. 

And you haven’t seen Sunghoon since a couple of months before the breakup, until today. A little over a year later. 

“Well,” Sunghoon’s voice brought you out of your deep thoughts, “I have to get going, need to catch practice.” 

Your eyebrows raised, “You’re playing still?” 

Sunghoon’s doctor finally cleared him to get back on the ice after almost a year of being off it, but due to the team setup they had at that time, he wasn’t able to fully rejoin the team again until around the time of the breakup. He was able to practice and attend the games as a sub if needed, but it was enough for him to keep his mind busy for a little bit. 

You’ve secretly kept up with the scores of the hockey team, knowing Sunghoon was back on the team officially. But after a while you quit. Clearing Sunghoon from your life completely. 

Sunghoon nodded, “Hell yeah I’m still playing, who do you think I am?” he teased, standing up from the table, “But, I am actually not going to hockey practice.” 

The surprise must have shown on your face because Sunghoon was giggling like a child at your confusion, “I joined an ice skating team as a figure skater.” 

You sat up straighter in your chair, “Since when?!”

“Since…well.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, it was all you needed to know. 

Being a sub on the hockey team eventually wasn’t enough for Sunghoon to keep his brain busy after the breakup. Until he was officially able to play again, he needed another distraction. Come to find out he loved figure skating as much as hockey, deciding even after being fully back on the hockey team, he kept up with figure skating as well. 

You slowly nodded, “I am really glad you’re doing well for yourself, Sunghoon.” 

He softly nodded back, “Thank you, Y/N. I have to get going, the ice is calling my name.”

You waved at him as he walked to the entrance, him turning back around as his back touched the doors, “It was nice seeing you!” 

You agreed. 

—

Your best friend sighed as another customer walked into the smoothie shop, holding up her index finger towards you as she walked away and up to the register, taking the customer's order. 

You leaned against the counter, moving the seat back and forth with your hips like a child. 

“Okay,” she said, returning to you after the customer's smoothie was made, “What were you telling me?” 

“Just that the materials you missed in bio today weren't too hard. I took extra notes for you,” you pulled into your backpack taking out the pretty iced blue folder, “Here they are!” you pulled out the stack of notes you made for her, her taking them and holding them to her chest.

“Thank you SO MUCH YN!!!” she placed the papers in a drawer under the counter, “I could kiss you right now. What would I do without you?” 

Probably survive perfectly fine since you had no problem cutting me off after you and Sunghoon broke up. 

You shrugged with a smile, “Fail bio.” 

She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, probably. But I have you to help keep me in the loop!” 

You honestly hated how the two of you could go DAYS sometimes even WEEKS without talking or seeing each other yet she has no problem acting as if nothing ever happened. 

But she was all you had, so you played along with her. 

You dropped your backpack onto the floor, wondering if telling her the other thing was right or wrong. 

You decided to anyway. 

“I also saw Sunghoon the other day.” 

Her movements slowed and her smile faded, “Is that so?” 

You nodded, “We talked for a couple of minutes, but he had to go practice, so it was a short moment.” 

You could see the gears were turning in her brain, “Practice? Guess he was able to get back on the team after all. That’s good at least.” 

“He actually is figure skating now too, that’s where he was headed.” 

Your best friend’s eyes widened, “Wow, I did not see that one coming.” 

You agreed, “It was definitely not something I’d expected Park Sunghoon to do, but I guess it kinda suits him.” 

Your friend nodded, seeing how deep in thought she was. 

You wanted to ask her to speak her mind, but unfortunately, the two of you weren’t that close anymore. 

A couple more customers walked in, sending her back away from you. 

You stood from the seat, grabbing your things, giving her a smile and wave as you walked out. You only came to give her the notes she missed anyway. 

Usually, when she skips out of class she gets the notes from one of the boys she’s secretly messing around with. But every blue moon she asks you. 

You guessed it was the only way to keep in contact with you in some way. 

—

You quickly stepped into the coffee shop, brushing off the slight snow from your hair, ready to get a sip of your favorite coffee. 

The barista noticed you, giving you his famous thumbs-up, “Already on it YN!” 

You gave him a thumbs-up back. You were so happy you discovered this place, it became one of your comfort places to be. It’s quiet enough to do homework or read, the coffee is amazing and all the baristas know you and your order. What isn’t there to love?

“Fancy seeing you here again,” you whipped around, seeing Sunghoon sitting in your usual spot, a book in his hands and his iced coffee half empty on the table. 

Your brain spasmed, what was he doing here again?

You just nodded, “You’re in my spot.” 

Sunghoon shrugged, “I can move?” 

Well shit, now you feel bad. 

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.” 

Sunghoon smiled, eyes flickering back down to his book. 

The barista called your name, turning your attention back to him, “Thank you, Taehyun.” 

His sharky smile warms your heart, “Always,” his eyes darted over to Sunghoon then back to you, “Do you know him?” 

You sighed, “Yes, he’s an old friend.” 

Taehyun nodded, his tongue sliding into his cheek, “He’s been here every day since the last time you were here.” 

You froze, narrowing your eyes, “Honestly?” 

Taehyun nodded again, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that he wasn’t some creep.” 

You smiled softly at him, “No need to worry. He’s harmless.” 

Taehyun gave you a half smile, then walked off to finish working. 

You sat down in front of Sunghoon, his eyes not leaving the page of his book. 

You cleared your throat, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Sunghoon glanced up for a second at your throat clearing, “Yes?” 

You cupped your hands around your coffee, “What?” 

Sunghoon sighed and closed his book, setting it on the table, “You only clear your throat like that when you have something to say.” 

Damn, does he remember the small details of you?

“You remember that?” 

Sunghoon chuckled, picking up his iced coffee, “YN, I’ve known you for almost, what? five years? You think I’d just forget everything?” 

Well, no…just didn’t think you’d care enough to remember. you didn’t date me after all. 

All you could do was shrug, “My barista told me you’ve been here every day,”

Sunghoon raised a brow as he sipped on his coffee, finishing it off, “Your barista?” 

“Not like that!” you snapped quietly, wishing you could jump over the table and tackle him, “I’m a regular here, Taehyun just happens to be the barista who always takes care of me.” 

Sunghoon mouthed out a “wow” and leaned back into the seat, “First name bases too?” 

“Sunghoon,” his name falling off your lips felt foreign, mostly since you were speaking to him, “Why are you here every day?” 

He thinned out his lips into a line, eyes looking down at his Converse, “Been looking for a good coffee shop to regular, and this one surprised me when I first came in here. You just so happened to be here the day I decided to try it.”

That sounds…completely true. This coffee shop is incredible. You don’t blame him for wanting to become a regular. It was all a coincidence. 

You sipped down your coffee, feeling the stare of his eyes, “Yes?” 

“So back to Taehyun being your barista,” 

You laughed, kicking your leg into his shin, “Stop!” 

Sunghoon’s fangs slipped out as he smiled. 

—

Sunghoon’s appearance in the coffee shop became more regular, just like he said. 

Taehyun knew his order by heart, just like yours, and would always have it ready the moment he saw Sunghoon walk in. 

You had to admit, it felt good having him back in your life. It felt like old times when you’d hang out when your best friend was too busy working. You three all used to be so close. 

Yet you didn’t have the heart to tell her you were even hanging out with Sunghoon again. It technically wasn’t even hanging out, you two just happened to sit, talk, and drink coffee together at your favorite coffee shop. 

Another week has flown by with Sunghoon making his appearance at the shop.

You laughed together over a book you both read, Sunghoon feeling Taehyun’s eyes on you. 

You stood up, “I’m heading to the bathroom,” 

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes darting to Taehyun, watching him as he watched you walk to the bathroom. A small sigh escaped Taehyun’s lips. 

Taehyun then made eye contact with him, and the look he was giving Sunghoon made him clench his fists. 

Your return to the table had Sunghoon relaxing, and Taehyun returning to work. 

Sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt so at home in your presence. His mind telling him to tell you the truth, that you deserved to know. But the moment you locked eyes with him and the corners of your lips curled into that precious smile, he couldn’t do it. 

“What’s up?” you asked, “You’re deep in thought?” 

“Ahh…” Sunghoon tried to collect his thoughts, then quickly smiled, settling on the topic change, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” you thought about it, “I just have class, why?” 

“Come to my hockey practice tomorrow night.” 

That invite took you by surprise, “Huh?” 

Sunghoon smiled even more, leaning forward on the table, “Come watch my practice tomorrow. Please?”

You tried to find an excuse to get out of it, but nothing came to mind. How could you just show up to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s hockey practice?

“The guys would love to see you, I bet.” Sunghoon mentioning his friends only hit you in the heart harder, “Come on, YN, just like old times.” 

Without a second thought, you agreed. Not knowing exactly why, but feeling as if it would be okay. It was just hockey practice. 

He jumped up from the table, “I have to get to figure skating practice, is your phone number still the same?”

You nodded, heart beating faster at hearing he still had your phone number. 

With a jump away from the table and a small skip, he said, “I’ll text you the details!” 

—

Sunghoon twirled his hockey stick in hand, eyes darting to each entrance of the stadium.

Heeseung skated past, quickly stopping in front of him, eyes also following each entrance, “Brother, what are you looking at?”

Sunghoon snaps his attention at Heeseung, his mouth open to speak, but no words coming out. 

“He’s waiting for YN,” Jay says as he also skates past, skating a circle around them. 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Dude.” 

Jay smirked, “Should’ve kept your mouth shut.” 

“Clearly, that’s the last time I tell you anything,” Sunghoon said, sliding his helmet over his head. 

Heeseung raised a brow, “Wait you’re speaking to YN again?” 

Sunghoon just nodded, “Yeah. We umm, ran into each other at a coffee shop.” 

“Yeah, “ran into each other”, we’ll call it that.” Jay teased, leaning forward on his hockey stick. 

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kick your stick from you and laugh when you hit the ice,” Sunghoon said with a snarky smile. 

“Woah now!” Jay said, holding his hand up, “You’re a figure skater now, can’t be talking like that anymore.” 

Sunghoon skated forward, Jay also scooted backward sticking his tongue out. 

Heeseung seemed to be the only one who was concerned, “How did the three of you make up?” 

Sunghoon awkwardly chuckled, “You mean the two of us…”

Heeseung looked at his friend confused, “You and—“

“No,” Sunghoon quickly shook his head, “We aren’t talking.” 

Heeseung just nodded, finally putting the pieces together, “Sorry for assuming that you rekindled with both of them.” 

Sunghoon swung his hockey stick around again, “Just YN. And from what I’ve noticed, the two of them aren’t really friends anymore.”

It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to figure it out. The way it used to be, his ex would always talk about you, and you would always talk about his ex. The two of you were inseparable. A package deal. With one you got the other. And the fact that you haven’t once brought her up over the last week that he’s started talking to you again, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she also pushed you away after the breakup. 

Heeseung just nodded, “Do you blame them?” Sunghoon just looked at him, not knowing what to say, “YN doesn’t know, does she?” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “No, and she won’t.” 

“Hoon-“

“I am not ready to tell her,” Sunghoon snapped, “I finally got one of my closest friends back, I don’t want to cross that bridge.” 

Heeseung sighed and nodded, “Okay man, just don’t get butt hurt when it backfires at you.” 

Sunghoon knew this secret could backfire on him, he wasn’t stupid. But it was worth the risk. 

“I’m going to see if she texted me,” he said, “Just in case she said he couldn’t make it.” 

Heeseung watched as Sunghoon skated off towards his gym bag. 

Dropping his gloves to the ice and carefully stepping off the ice, he sat down on the bench, opened his gym bag, and pulled out his phone, quickly finding your messages and seeing you’ve read his last text. 

Sunghoon felt stupid getting his hopes up. What did he think inviting you would do? 

I just wanted her back in my life again. 

He tossed his phone back in the bag and stepped back onto the ice, pulling his gloves back onto his hands. 

I’m so fucking pathetic. 

Sunghoon adjusted his gloves, now waiting for practice to start. 

Jay whistled at him, causing a glare to shoot from his eyes.

Jay tilted his head up, “Look.” 

Sunghoon turned back around, seeing you walking in, your arms wrapped tightly around you. 

He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, immediately skating in your direction. 

“You made it!” he said, sliding his helmet from his head. 

You smiled back, nodding, “Sorry that I am a bit late, my class got out later.” 

You walked up to the wall Sunghoon was now leaning against, his helmet resting on top of it. 

“You showed up, and that’s all that matters,” Sunghoon couldn’t hide how happy it made him that you were here right now. 

You nodded again, smiling wide back at him, “It’s cold as balls in here though!” 

Sunghoon pointed over to his gym bag, “I have my hockey varsity jacket in my bag, wear it if you get too cold.” 

“I am definitely going to wear it,” you shivered, “I forgot how cold it gets in here.” 

The memory of the last time he saw you replayed in his mind, it was during a hockey game. His team was a couple of points away from winning. Sunghoon and his ex were too busy fighting off on the side of the bleachers, her stomping away not wanting to finish the conversation. His eyes wandered over to you, the sad look you gave him broke his heart even more. Your heart was also breaking due to watching your closest friends tear each other apart. All Sunghoon could do was shove his hands into his hoodie pocket and walk out of the stadium. 

He watched as you walked over to his things, your hands immediately reaching for the jacket and sliding it onto your body. 

Oh fuck I am a goner. 

Sunghoon loved the way you looked in his jacket. The way it loosely hangs against your body. How cute it made you look. His heart dropped onto the ice. 

Your body started warming up a bit more, sliding your hands into his jacket pockets. Your eyes traced the other players on the ice. Jay and Heeseung waving at you. You waved back. Gosh, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw either of them. 

You’ve seen them out and about around the college, but not so personally like this. It’s been way too long. 

Sunghoon skated back over to his friends and teammates. 

“It’s weird seeing her again,” Jay said, watching you sit down, eyes wandering around the stadium, “Mostly seeing her without her twin at her hip. She looks really good though,” 

Jay was lucky Sunghoon was in a better mood than earlier, or else he’d be wiping the ice with Jay’s face, “Can we not talk about my ex, please, and she does look good. Eyes off.” 

Jay wanted to make a smart remark, but with a quick look at Sunghoon and then you, he decided to leave the teasing off the ice, giving him a nod, “Yeah, sorry man.” 

Their coach finally started practice. 

It went by in a flash. You waited outside the stadium for Sunghoon, his jacket still wrapped around your body. 

“Well, what did you think of our practice?” Sunghoon said, sneaking up on you, and giving you a little jolt. 

“It was very interesting, you played well.” 

Sunghoon walked closer to you, his hands reaching up to fix the collar of his jacket, his cold fingers brushing against your skin, “My jacket looks really good on you.” 

Your heart sank. 

Is he…flirting???

“Oh, shoot!” you tried to play it off as if you forgot, wanting to find an excuse for the blush on your face to go away after his comment, reaching to take the jacket off, “Here, I forgot I was still wearing it.” 

Sunghoon grabbed your hands and shoved them back at your side, “YN, keep it.” 

“But—“ 

Sunghoon interrupted, “It’s okay! I promise! Just keep it for now, okay? I have another jacket I can wear.” 

You nodded, feeling your body getting hot from his hands still touching yours. 

Why are you getting so bothered??? You’ve known him for years. Why is every little thing he’s doing affecting you???

“Anyways,” he said, finally letting go of your hands, “We have a game this weekend, you’ll come right?” 

You wouldn’t mind going, it could be an excuse to get you out of your apartment for once and not just sit at the coffee shop either. 

“Yeah, I’ll come.”

Sunghoon smiled, his eyes darting to the ground to try and hide just how big he was smiling, “I’ll save you a ticket.” 

—

You walked into the shop, giving Taehyun a smile and wave. Giving you the normal thumbs up. 

You dropped your backpack to the floor at your normal table and slumped down into the seat with a sigh. 

“Rough day?” Sunghoon asked, his yellow highlighter moving across his textbook. 

You nodded, “I forgot to set my alarms last night, so I woke up late and got to class late. On top of that I had to take double the notes because…” you stopped yourself, not wanting to bring your best friend's name into the mix. 

Sunghoon stopped highlighting, he didn’t even have to hear her name to know what you were going to say, his eyes slowly rising to meet yours, “You’re still taking notes for her?” 

You just shrugged, “Maybe…” 

“YN,” he dropped his highlighter into the textbook, “You need to stop doing that.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Mostly because you knew he was right. She was just using you at this point. 

Taehyun interrupted your thoughts by setting your coffee down in front of you, “Tae! I could have gotten it from you.” 

His cute sharky smile came out, “Don’t worry about it, I don’t ever get to bring the coffee to you. Plus I needed to get away from behind the counter.” 

You smiled up at him, “Thank you.” 

Taehyun rested his hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, “It’s no problem at all, YN.” 

Sunghoon clenched his fists under the table, eyes burning holes into his hand that was touching you. 

As Taehyun walked away, he locked eyes with Sunghoon as if to say “Your move now, buddy.” 

Oh, I’ll play your game, Taehyun. 

“He totally has a crush on you.” Sunghoon spat out. 

You softly giggled, “Who? Tae? No,” you giggled again, taking a sip of your coffee, “He’s just a good friend.” 

Sunghoon rubbed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes darting back to Taehyun who was now back behind the counter, “I can see it in the way he looks at you.” 

You rolled your eyes. He sounds jealous. 

You glanced up at him, seeing how he kept his eyes on Taehyun. 

Oh, he’s…actually jealous??? No. It couldn’t be. He’s still in love with his ex.

You shook the thoughts from your head, deciding to change the subject, “Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 

Sunghoon’s eyes made their way back to you, his face relaxing and a small smile formed, “Yes, you’re still coming…right?” 

You nodded, “I wouldn’t miss it,” you took another sip of your coffee, “Wasn’t able to see you play back then, so I’m excited to see you play now.” 

Hearing you say that warmed his heart. Knowing you’ll be in the crowd cheering for him and only him. He had to make sure he was on his ‘a game’ tomorrow. 

“Make sure to wear my jacket tomorrow,” Sunghoon gave you a wink, picking his highlighter back up and continuing where he left off. 

You giggled, “Why? What will your jacket do? Bring good luck?” 

Sunghoon chuckled, stretching the highlighter across the words on the textbook, “It has an S.H. and my last name on the back,” he glanced back up at you, “And you know, yeah, you wearing my jacket will bring good luck. You’ll be my good luck charm.” 

Sunghoon took notice of the slight blush on your cheeks, his smile growing more as he looked back to his textbook. 

God, she’s so cute. 

You tried to slow your heart rate. Why is he making you feel like this? 

“It’s getting kinda late,” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat? Then I can walk you to your apartment?”

You nodded. 

You weren’t sure what these butterflies in your stomach meant, but it made you feel guilty for even having them. 

—

It was game day and your nerves were all tied together in a knot. 

You took one last look at your outfit in your mirror, fingers twisting in the belt loops of your ripped skinny jeans, pulling them up further above your hips. 

Your college’s hockey team t-shirt had a small hole at the bottom of the shirt, which was to be expected. This was an old shirt and you haven’t worn it since the last game you attended…the night Sunghoon pushed you out of his life. 

Your black high-top vans looked like they’ve seen better days, but looked good with the outfit. 

Grabbing a hair tie from your vanity, you pulled your long hair back, wrapping the tie around it, just to pull it out right after.  

You tried different hairstyles, not liking a single one. 

Why do I even care how my hair looks? 

You settled for a ponytail, deciding it’s what matched the outfit better. 

The last final piece was Sunghoon’s jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. You turned around in the mirror, glancing back to see his initials on the back. 

“You’ll be my good luck charm.” 

You caught yourself smiling at the memory, bringing the hems of the jacket up to your nose, breathing in the smell. 

It still smelt like him, even after you’ve had it for the last couple of days. The familiar smell of blackberry and floral filled your senses. 

His scent brought you comfort, the knot of nerves unraveling and disappearing. 

While the nerves found their way out, other feelings crept their way in. 

Your heart raced faster, thinking about the smile on Sunghoon’s face he’d have when he saw you. 

The more thoughts of him that flooded your brain, the more guilty you felt. 

He’s your best friend’s ex…you can’t be thinking about and getting so giddy over him. 

You slapped your hands to your face, hoping it would be enough to kick those feelings out. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t. 

You sat down at your vanity, pulling open one of the drawers, revealing a photo booth picture strip of yourself, Sunghoon, and your best friend. 

You held the fragile paper in your hands, staring at each set of photos one by one. Eyes locking onto Sunghoon. 

You didn’t feel this way about him back then, so why now all of a sudden does he have your stomach tied in knots? 

His smile in the photos sent your heart racing. The way he was looking at your best friend, you couldn’t help but wish he looked at you like that. 

You quickly shoved the photo strip back into the drawer, slamming it shut. 

You stood from the chair, grabbed your phone and keys, and walked out of your room. 

By the time you showed up at the stadium, the opposing team and Sunghoon’s team lined up on each side of the rink doing their warmups. 

Your eyes searched for him, seeing the number 23 skating by quickly, him swinging the hockey stick, sending the puck flying into the goal. 

Even though it was just a practice shot, you clapped anyway. 

Sunghoon skated back into line, eyes wandering the crowd until he found you. Your smile sends butterflies in his stomach fluttering about. 

God, you look so good right now. The way your hair was pulled back, the way your thighs peeked out from the rips of your jeans, and how perfect his jacket looked on you. 

Sunghoon never let his ex wear that jacket, it was so special to him, so much that only he wanted to wear it. But it was so different with you. 

He gave you a wave, letting you know that he does indeed, know you’re here. 

The game finally started, and the butterflies did not calm down one bit. He had to do well in this game. He couldn’t disappoint you. 

Heeseung patted his back, “Calm down buddy, you’re our best player. Can’t have you tapping out on us.” 

Jay agreed, “This isn’t even the first game of the season, what’s got you so worked up all of a sudden?” 

“YN is here,” Niki, one of the only freshmen on the team, teased. 

Sunghoon shot the younger one a glare, “Brother, you don’t want to tease me right now.” 

Niki smirked, “Man, I know enough about your life and I barely have been on the team.” 

Jay slapped Sunghoon’s shoulder, “Just ignore the kid, he’s just a little silly.” 

Niki agreed, “Just a little bit.” 

Sunghoon waved his teammates off, “I am fine, my nerves have nothing to do with YN being here.” 

His friends looked at him with telling faces, they knew he was lying. Knew he was full of shit. But deciding to let it go. 

The game went on, each of the teams scoring left and right. 

You sat on the edge of your seat, hands clasped together at your chest. There were five minutes left on the clock, your team was only a point ahead. 

Your eyes followed Sunghoon on the ice, you could tell by his body language he was stressed. The way he stretched his arms out over his hockey stick behind his neck was enough to tell how absent-minded he was in this moment, the only thing he could focus on was getting one last point. Swinging his stick back down onto the ice, slightly bending over, ready for anything. 

Jay passed the puck to Niki, pushing the puck across the rink, Sunghoon positioned himself, screaming for Niki to pass the puck towards him.  

Niki passed it quickly to him. Sunghoon grabbed the puck, pushing his feet and legs as quickly as he could against the ice, the only thing on his mind was to keep the puck against the stick.

As he neared the goal, the goalie prepared himself for Sunghoon to make a shot. 

Sweat dripped down the side of his face, hands gripping tighter on the stick as he lifted it from the ice and puck. 

You stood to your feet, hands hovering over your chest, gripping at the fabric of your shirt. 

Sunghoon swung the stick using all the force possible and hit the puck, watching as the black disc flew across the ice. 

The world seemed to go in slow motion for Sunghoon, his eyes wide as the anticipation of waiting for the puck to reach the goalie, it sliding gracefully between the goalie's legs, the guy barely missing to stop it. 

Sunghoon pivoted, stopping his motion on the ice. His eyes locked onto the puck, confirming it hit the net. 

He turned his body towards his teammates, the world around him going back to normal speed. The crowd cheered, and his teammates surrounded him, slapping their hands against his chest, shoulders, and back. The clock hit its final second, the buzzer sounding. The game was over. We won. 

We won..!!

Sunghoon started screaming and cheering with his teammates, hands slapping them as they continued to slap him. 

You rushed down to the wall, the upper half of your body leaning over it, cupping your hands to your mouth, “Sunghoon!!!” 

He didn’t hear you over the screams of his mates and fans. But it felt as if he knew you were waiting for him. 

His eyes found you and started pushing past his teammates, sliding his helmet off and handing it and his stick off to Heeseung. 

Using what was left of his leg strength, he pushed himself towards you quickly. 

He stretched his arms up in the air, shouting, “WE DID IT!!” 

You couldn’t stop your smile from falling, not when Sunghoon looked as happy as he did at that moment. His fangs were on full display from how wide he was smiling. 

His body crashed against the wall, his gloved hands wrapping around your waist, connecting his torso to yours. 

His wet sweaty hair tickled your cheek as he pulled you into a hug. The first hug you’ve received from him since…well the breakup. 

You patted his back, leaning your head against his, “You played so well! I am so proud of you!” 

You’ve never gotten to tell him how exactly proud of him you were. For all the years you’ve known him, he’s always given his one hundred percent, but because of the past circumstances, you weren’t able to voice how proud you were of him, your best friend wouldn’t have allowed it. 

Hearing you tell him how well he did was enough to risk everything. It did something so deep to his heart that he couldn’t hide it anymore. 

It’s now or never Park Sunghoon, just do it. 

“I told you. I told you that you were my good luck charm,” he whispered in your ear, brushing his cheek against yours as he moved his head up. Brushing his nose against yours softly before moving in, pressing his lips against yours quickly. 

So fast that you didn’t have time to process it as his hands left your waist and he was skating backward away from you. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed locked with yours. 

Your fingertips touched your lips, your ears blocking out all sound as the rest of your senses focused on the man in front of you. 

He kissed you…Oh my god, he kissed you!!! 

Sunghoon gave you a wink and said “Meet me by my car!” then turned back around, skating to his teammates, all of them huddling together. 

—

He pressed you up against his front door, using your body to completely shut it, his fingers flipping the lock as his tongue invaded your mouth, your brain going fuzzy. 

You met him at his car after the game and convinced you to have dinner with him and the team. 

You sat beside him in the booth at this fancy diner, his arm was wrapped around your shoulder, his fingers softly rubbing against your arm. Once the food arrived at the table, his arm went from being behind you to his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers sliding between the rips of your jeans, squeezing the plush skin. 

His touch was driving you crazy, and with your new emotions towards him, it made his contact with your skin make you hot and bothered. 

Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you liked it. Liked the attention he was giving you. 

Liked it so much that you didn’t even think twice when he drove right past the street of your apartment building and pulled into his apartment building. 

He held both your hands tightly, his smile so bright as he guided you up the stairs to his apartment. Soft laughs leaving his lips at just the thought of being with you. 

He was dying to kiss you again. Like properly kiss you. 

He wanted to kiss you so bad that the moment you were inside his apartment, his hands and body were pressed against yours, using his weight to push you against his door. Lips connecting to yours as if he were running out of oxygen and your lips were the sole source of air. 

His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your torso, fingers grazing against your breasts and up to your neck, hands cupping your jaw. 

You kissed him back forcefully, pushing your tongue between his lips, rubbing the muscle against his own, mixing your saliva. 

You tasted so sweet to him. He couldn’t get enough. 

Sunghoon went to pull away, wanting to attach his lips to your neck, but you weren’t ready for his lips to leave yours. 

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, biting a bit harder than you expected. 

Sunghoon hissed out in pleasure, rolling his hips against yours, his clothed hard length pressing at your heat. 

You released his lip, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pinning you against the door, his lips attaching themself to your neck, “Keep acting up baby and I just might have to punish you.” 

His words sent chills down your spine as he left open mouth kisses on your neck. Your imagination running wild at what these punishments would be, but being too afraid to test his limits. 

Sunghoon loved hearing the soft moans escaping your pretty little mouth. It was music to his ears. 

He placed his leg right between yours, using it to spread them further apart, giving him more access to press his cock against you. 

You were shaking, wanting to completely feel him against you, skin to skin. 

“Hoonie,” you whispered in his ear, “Please,” 

Sunghoon reached down, cupping the back of your thighs and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him. His hands sliding to cup your ass, lips finding yours again. 

“Say less princess,” he mumbled against your lips as he carried you to his bedroom. 

He laid you down gently on his bed, his right hand stayed on your thigh, squeezing it tightly to keep it wrapped around him as his left hand flew to his shirt, fingers working their magic at the buttons. 

You became impatient, sending your hands to help undress him. 

You slid the fabric off his shoulders and down his arms, your fingers feeling every muscle as they traced down his skin and off his body. 

Your eyes took a moment to appreciate his body. You already knew he worked out, but good lord was his toned, buff body beautiful. 

Sunghoon kissed you again, his hands sliding his jacket off your body then finding their way under your shirt and up and over your head. 

He worked with the button of your jeans as you worked with his. 

He slid his jeans and underwear down together, leaving him completely bare to you.

His fingers looped between your jeans and panties, lifting your hips up as he pulled them off your body. 

“Fuck, YN,” he moaned out, hands snaking underneath you to unclasp your bra, your breasts falling to their natural place once the material was on the floor. His eyes looked your bare body up and down, before laying his body on top of yours, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Your fingers tangled in his hair when he kissed you again, your tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm, his hand sliding down your body and stopping at your thigh to pull it back over his waist. 

Sunghoon was completely turned on just by the skin-to-skin contact, by just feeling your pretty legs wrapped around him. 

He rolled his hips, rubbing his dick against your clit, his hand fumbling at his nightstand drawer for his box of condoms. 

You woke up that next morning with the sun shining through his bedroom window. 

Sunghoon had his head on your chest still fast asleep. 

His arm was wrapped around your waist, the bedsheets were tangled up between yours and his legs. His leg hung out from the sheets and they hung at his hips, his bare back exposed. 

Your heart raced at the site in front of you. 

Did this actually happen?? I am not dreaming?

Your hand touched his bicep, fingers softly moving up and down his arm. 

Sunghoon moved his head up, tucking it in your neck, arm tightening around you. He was still fast asleep. 

Guilt washed over you once again. You just had sex with your best friend's ex-boyfriend. She would kill you both if she knew what happened last night. 

Did you regret it? Absolutely not. The sex was perfect. Sunghoon is perfect. But that still didn’t stop the thoughts that it shouldn’t have happened. 

Would you do it again? Regardless of these thoughts? Also yes. 

Your relationship with Sunghoon was different now. You had deep feelings for him. And the fact that he kept inviting you over, inviting you to his practices and games, asking to see you after classes, and randomly showing up at your front door, proved enough to you that it wasn’t about the sex that night, that his feelings also ran deep for you too. 

Your coffee shop days were more intimate, instead of sitting across from each other, you’d sit beside each other. Hands locking together as you’d drink your coffees. 

He would be waiting outside your apartment door every single morning to drive you to class. 

You would cheer him on from the bleachers at every practice, and have dinner with him afterwards. 

The sex got more intense the more comfortable you both got. You saw a whole new side of Sunghoon in the bedroom. A side you never thought you’d ever see or even thought about seeing until recently. 

He explored every inch of your body, his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. Shoving his fingers in your mouth as he pounded into you from behind. Bruises were left on your hips from how his fingers would grip your skin. 

You got more bold too. From being his little submissive princess to a dominant queen. The way you’d jerk your hand up and down his cock sending his head flying back, body shaking from your touch as you straddled him. 

Sunghoon became a part of your daily life, just like he was all that time ago. 

You showed up to every game wearing his jacket, being that good luck charm you knew you were to him. Everything felt right.

—

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down onto your couch with him, “Babe, cuddle me! I am touch starved!” 

You rolled your eyes at him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip, “We just had sex, yet you’re still touch-starved?” 

“Obviously!” he nuzzled his face at the nape of your neck, hands gripping the hem of your shirt, “Let’s have sex again.” 

“Hoonie,” you giggled at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck, “You have practice in thirty minutes, you need to get ready soon.” 

Sunghoon groaned against your neck, but he knew you were right. 

Sunghoon went to propose skipping practice tonight but got distracted by your phone ringing, eyes darting over to it, being the nosey guy that he is, and seeing…his ex’s name on the caller ID. 

His smile faded, why would she be calling you?

You sighed at seeing your best friend's name on your phone, finger-hitting the decline. 

Calling her your best friend seemed pointless now. Right before things kicked off between you and Sunghoon, she found another boy toy to mess around with, completely ignoring you. You’ve also tried many times to hang out with her, to go by and see her at her job, to invite her over to do homework, to try and just hang with her when Sunghoon was busy, yet all she did was ignore you. So the fact she’s hitting you up now only means she needs something from you. And to say you were exhausted from it would be an understatement. 

Maybe it was karma for keeping your relationship with Sunghoon a secret from her. But you also knew you couldn’t tell her. At least not right now. 

You felt bad declining the call, deciding to shoot her a quick text saying you were busy in the shower and couldn’t answer the call just for her to reply saying it was fine, but was wanting the notes from class today and then sent a smiley face :) 

Sunghoon shook his head, “Please don’t.” 

You set your phone down, not responding to her, “Don’t what?” you knew the answer, but tried to play dumb anyways. 

“YN, stop playing this game with her, she’s using you.” 

You knew it was true, but hearing it come from his mouth didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 

Sunghoon bit his lips in a way to keep himself calm. He hated that she was doing this to you. He saw firsthand how badly the breakup affected you too. You lost both of your best friends because of it. But the shitty part was you weren’t supposed to lose her, but you did anyway. She was supposed to stay by your side but didn’t. 

She abandoned you. Even after she promised him she wouldn’t. 

The secrets he wishes he could tell you in hopes of you cutting her off for good, but he couldn’t break that trust with her, even if she deserved it. 

The only thing he could do was try and convince you in other ways. 

“Baby,” he whispered, “Look at me.” 

You did, shifting yourself in his lap to face him. 

He tucked your hair behind your ears, “You deserve better than that. I know you love and care for her, and that she’s your best friend, but this friendship is toxic. All it is doing is hurting you.” 

You looked away from his chocolate eyes and to the floor, “I know.” 

Sunghoon pulled your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look back at him, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore, not just because of her, but because of me too. We both did some damage to you and I have to live with that. I am so fucking lucky you let me come back in your life. And well, I am not saying to completely cut her out of your life,” even though that is what he’s wanting, “but don’t do things like this for her anymore.” 

You nodded. He was right. The only reason you kept doing things for her no matter what they were was to keep her in your life. You kept holding onto a rope that was torn a long time ago. 

“Promise me,” he asked, holding up his pinky finger, “Please.” 

You wrapped your pinky tightly with his, sealing the promise. 

—

It was the final game of the season, if the boys win this game they move on to the championship. 

Sunghoon stood with you by the wall, his hands trembling in his gloves. 

He was nervous, scared even, it was written all over his face. 

“Sunghoon,” you saying his name always sounded so beautiful to his ears. He looks over to you, giving a nervous smile, “It’ll be okay. You’re one of the best damn players on this team. The championship is calling your team's name!” 

You could only hope your words were reaching him, helping make him feel better. 

Which it did. His hand stopped trembling just from your smile. You were his good luck charm after all. 

He slid his hand from his glove, cupping the side of your face, “I am the luckiest man alive to have you.” 

You leaned into his hand, his thumb rubbing against your skin. 

His couch blew the whistle for warm-ups to start. 

“Gimme a good luck kiss princess,” he said pulling you closer to him, “It’ll give me strength.” 

You giggled against his lips and pouted as he skated away, giving him a thumbs up. 

Little did you know, your “best friend” was sitting in the bleachers, watching the entire thing. 

The game went in a flash, Sunghoon once again scoring the winning goal. 

You jumped from your seat and pressed against the wall, arms stretched out and waiting for Sunghoon to embrace himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in celebration of his win. 

You stood at the end of the bleachers, eyes staring off down the hallway that led to the locker rooms, heart racing at wanting to see Sunghoon again, to be able to give him a proper hug for his win. 

“OMG! You came to the game too?!” 

Your heart sank at her voice, your friend connecting her shoulder to yours as she stood beside you. 

Your body tensed, “Y-Yeah, it was their last game so I came to support them.” 

“Hmmm,” she hummed, her hands flying to Sunghoon’s jacket, “Isn’t this Hoon’s?” She forced you around, seeing his name printed on the back. 

She knows she’s got to know.

She hummed again, “Why do you have his jacket, YN?” 

You shrugged, leaning back against the bleacher, “I was cold and he offered it to me I guess.” 

She crossed her arms, “He never let me borrow it, weird.” 

“I was freezing,” you tried to play it off, “You know how cold I can get sometimes.” 

She nodded, “That’s true,” her eyes darted down the hallway, “Since when did you and Hoon start hanging out again?” 

She definitely knows. 

You knew it was a matter of time before she found out, but you didn’t think it would be like this. 

You opened your mouth to speak, only for her face to light up with excitement and her hands clapping. 

The boys finally were leaving the locker room, “Here come our winners!” she said. 

Sunghoon was with Jay, the two of them doing their handshake and walking in separate directions, Sunghoon’s smile fading after looking in your direction. 

“OH EM GEE!!!” she squealed, grabbing your hand and rushing you both to meet Sunghoon halfway, “You are such a star Hoonie!” 

She wrapped her arms around Sunghoon’s neck, but he was quick to pull her off of him, “What are you doing here?” 

You were surprised how calm he was. 

“Am I not allowed to come and support you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“You lost that right when we broke up.” he scoffed, “Why are you actually here?” 

She pouted, pulling you to her side, “I missed you guys, wanted us to rekindle and be a trio again.” 

Sunghoon could smell the bullshit radiating out of her mouth. 

Does this bitch think I am stupid?

“Rekindle?” he chuckled, “Rekindle what? Exactly?” oh he was pissed now, “Explain yourself. Now.” 

She let go of your arm, taking a step closer to him, “I miss you, Hoon.” She reached to touch his face, but he caught her arm with his hand, shoving it away from him. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

You didn’t know what to do or what to say, this fight didn’t involve you, it was something they had to settle. 

“Hoon,” she begged, “I want you back, please.” 

Sunghoon took a step back away from her, “Cut the bullshit.” 

She rolled her eyes, “What bullshit?!”

“I am in a relationship,” he spat out, “I am happy.” 

A laugh escaped her mouth, a laugh you’ve never heard her do before, “I know, I am not stupid,” she took a step back, wrapping her arms around you, “You’re fucking our sweet YN.” 

Sunghoon’s grip on his duffle bag tightened and his jaw locked. What the fuck was she trying to pull here?

She smiled, knowing she got you both where she wanted you to be, “The fact that you’re both quiet speaks volumes, lemme tell ya.” 

“What the fuck do you want?” he said through his locked jaw. 

“I want to know why,” she pulled a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I want to know why you both betrayed me like this. Why my ex-boyfriend decided it was okay to fuck my best friend, and why my best friend decided it was okay to fuck my ex.” 

Oh, she’s going there? Game on.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Best friend? Best friends don't abandon each other!”

“That’s rich coming from you,” she retorted.

“You abandoned her!!” he snapped. 

“So did you!!” she snapped back, “You walked away just as much as I did!” 

“I walked away because I cared about you! I cared about your feelings! You promised you’d stay by her side, not leave her to fight alone and use her for your own personal gain, that’s not a friendship!” 

“Oh, here we go,” she laughed, “It’s always about YN.” 

You wanted to speak up, to ask them what that meant, but before you could, Sunghoon was reaching for you. 

He’s heard enough. He’s HAD enough. He couldn’t let this conversation continue, not when she might spill everything. 

He pulled you to his side, pushing you in the direction towards the exit door, “YN, baby, let’s go.” 

“How long did you think you could hide? Hmm?” 

Both you and Sunghoon stopped walking. 

“I’ve known for a while now,” you turned and faced her, waiting for her to finish, “You think I wouldn’t notice? Wouldn't notice either of your cars at each other's apartments?” 

Sunghoon laughed, “So you’re stalking us now? That’s so fucking low.” 

“How could I not? Not after I saw the two of you leaving that diner downtown a while ago,” 

She’s known since the beginning.

“I thought maybe, at first, you two were just hanging out again. I minded my business. But then I thought, hmm, I should surprise visit YN. And I bet you could imagine my surprise when I pulled up to her apartment and saw your car parked there and her riding your dick on her couch.” your face flushed, embarrassed, “Maybe next time make sure your blinds are closed before fucking in the living room.” 

Sunghoon sighed, pulling you closer to him. He felt like shit because of all this happening to you. 

“This doesn’t excuse your shitty stalking behavior,” Sunghoon said. 

She shrugged, “I only caught you by coincidence at first, the second time surprised me too. The rest I had to ask around campus to find out.” 

Sunghoon was getting more pissed by the second, “YN doesn’t deserve this!!” 

“You’re so right!” she clapped her hands, “She does deserve better friends, I know. We were so shitty to her. But you know what she also deserves? The truth.” 

The…truth?

Sunghoon shook his head, “No, let’s go,” he tried pushing you toward the exit again, he wasn’t ready for you to hear what she was about to say. 

You forced Sunghoon off you, taking a few steps back towards her, “What truth do I deserve to know?” 

Mostly since Sunghoon seemed so set on me leaving just now. 

Your friend smirked, “The truth about the reason why we broke up in the first place.” 

Sunghoon snapped her name, “Keep your fucking mouth shut!” 

You look back at him, “What is so goddamn secretive?” 

Sunghoon sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor. 

You looked back at her, “Well??” 

“The reason we broke up was because of you.” she crossed her arms over her chest, eyes darting at Sunghoon. 

“Because of me?” You couldn’t wrap your head around why, “W-what did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything, YN,” Sunghoon finally said. 

“Then…why…” 

“Because he’s in love with you,” you stood there frozen, “He confessed to me a few months before we broke up on how deeply in love with you he was.” she said snarky, “That he caught feelings for you early on into our relationship, but kept it hidden all those years until he couldn’t. The guilt ate him up. Plus I caught him practically eye fucking you at one of the last parties we all attended together.” 

You looked back at Sunghoon, his eyes glossed over. He’s been in love with you the entire time you’ve known him? 

“It’s truly sad, isn’t it?” your friend continued, “The night we fought, was me making him promise to never come near you again. Guess it worked for a while.” 

“Why would you promise that!” You yelled at him, “Why would you even agree to that?!” 

“Because I still cared about her!” Sunghoon shook his head, “I wanted to respect her wishes, I wanted to respect you! You had no feelings towards me whatsoever, and after the last couple shitty months of my relationship with her, I wanted you to heal and find peace with losing me, had I known she would also walk away from you, I would have never let you go.” 

“Why did you stay with her as long as you did if you wanted me?” It was a shitty question to ask, but you had to know. 

“Because I was already a shitty person for falling in love with my girlfriend’s best friend. I didn’t want to hurt either of you. So I kept my feelings hidden until they eventually overflowed to the point I couldn’t contain it.” 

With tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him, fists hitting his chest, “Why would you leave me then?! I needed you!” you cried it all out, releasing the frustration, and he just took it, “Do you know how lonely I was when you left? How terrible I felt watching you walk away that night? I lost part of my soul.” 

Sunghoon pulled you to him, “Baby I know and I am so fucking sorry I did that to you.” 

You cried into his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. Too many emotions were fighting you at all once. You were the sole reason your best friends broke up, how could you not feel like shit?

You pushed yourself off him, turning back towards your friend, “What is your excuse for leaving me?” 

Her facial expression tightened, “How could I have stayed? Every time I looked at you all I could remember was the fact that my boyfriend wanted you, not me.” 

Fair enough. But that was also such a shotty excuse. 

“Guess our friendship didn’t mean shit to you,” you scoffed, “A boy meant more to you than I did. Meant more than our lifetime of friendship.” 

She had nothing to say to that, just thinned her lips in a line, looking away. 

“I’ve heard enough,” you softly said, “Take me home, please Sunghoon.” 

He nodded, extending out his hand for you to take it, and you did. The two of you walking away.

“Enjoy my seconds, YN.” 

Oh, she did not.

Sunghoon beat you to running his mouth, “At least YN pleases me. You should see the mess she makes of me since you want to stalk us so bad.” 

You bit the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing, was their sex life that bad?

Her face turned red you could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears, “Go to hell Sunghoon! It’s where you belong!” 

He chuckled, “Gladly, I’d give up every piece of heaven for YN.” 

She rolled her eyes, it was always about you. It’s always been you for him. 

“Oh and by the way,” Sunghoon added, “I know you cheated on me multiple times with Mark from calculus, way before I confessed my feelings for YN. So us breaking up wasn’t just because of her. Suck a dick.” 

Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you, a smirk on his face as you both listened to her yelling more nonsense. 

—

He drove you home and walked you into your apartment. 

“I really am sorry, YN.” Sunghoon wrapped you into his arms, “I never wanted to hurt you.” 

You cupped his face, thumbs wiping the tears that fell, “Don’t ever apologize, okay? You were caught in a situation.” 

“It’s no excuse,” he took your hands in his, “I love you, I always have. I shouldn’t have walked away.” 

You just nodded, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his nose, “I love you, Park Sunghoon. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters.”

It was true. He was so lucky to have you. To finally have you after waiting for you for so long. 

Thank god he decided to try that coffee shop out. 

“Was sex with her really that bad?” you asked, a giggle escaping. 

He laughed too, “Yeah, never came once.” 

“I guess that means I win in that department too since I make such a mess outta you,” 

Sunghoon bit his lip, sliding his hands to squeeze your waist, “Keep talking like that and I’ll ruin you.” 

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips then escaped his arms, running towards your bedroom, “Can’t ruin me if I make a mess of you first.” 

Sunghoon chased after you, his heart pounding at the happiness on your face. 

God, he really was the luckiest man alive.

[deathfavor]

@requiemofrebellion said: " it's the pressure, Kazutora. that's all it is. " (Kisaki to Kazutora, bad toman verse)

jacob's ladder sentence starters

His head hurts. Kazutora's eyes squeeze shut, discomfort crawling under his skin as he exhales. He's fine. He's fine. But it doesn't FEEL fine. It feels like someone's fucking with his senses and messing everything up. He doesn't like the feeling, hands digging into the armrest of the seat as he tries to focus on something else. He feels irritated and agitated with the sensation.

. Kisaki's voice comes as a welcomed distraction.

He nods slightly to show that he has, in fact, heard Kisaki's voice. Pressure. That's right. He'd heard about people talking about the pressure during takeoff, but it was something he'd never properly understood until this moment. Thankfully his ears pop though, and he lets out a breath he'd been holding. It seems to quell some of the rising agitation he had been feeling moments ago. The feeling of discomfort under his skin had vanishes and he finally relaxes a bit more against the airplane seat.

" Thanks. " Kazutora breathes, his gaze flicking towards Kisaki. " Sorry. I've never flown on a plane before. I heard people talk about it before but I've never felt anything like that before. " He offers an explanation, though he knows Kisaki's already aware he's never been outside the city. " That pressure change sucks. "

Gold eyes peer at Kisaki for a moment but it isn't long before his eyes turn to gaze outside the window with wide eyes. Everything looks so...small. It's a perspective he's only seen in movies and pictures. It's a whole different experience to see it with his own eyes

. All of this felt a bit unreal if he was honest with himself. Not having Hanma was strange. It was especially strange when he considered the fact Kisaki had said they were traveling for business. Normally that was Hanma's thing, and Kazutora would stay patrolling the city. It vaguely feels almost like a test somehow, though Kazutora can't quite pin down the reason that idea comes to mind. He's been good - but this is a whole new beast to tackle to just be with Kisaki for the duration of this trip.

" You said the meeting is tomorrow morning, right? So we'll have some free time when we land. Was there anything on your schedule? " He asks while the thought is on his mind, though his eyes remain fixated at the shrinking world outside the window.

[deadsetobsessions]

Summonings

Ever since Danny Phantom became the Ghost King, he’s had to deal with an endless amount of crap. An eternity of it, actually, and it was constantly causing him unending amount of existential crises and stress.

First, there was the paperwork. Pariah Dark, the incompetent asshole, had left him decades worth of bureaucracy to painfully sift through. He ended up hiring some ghosts with paperwork obsessions to sort some of that out. Who knew ruling the infinite realms would require this much paperwork? He’s lucky each section of the underworld had their own systems to report to their own rulers who, in turn, report to him.

Secondly, there were the Observers. And other ghosts, like his own rogues, but they were the main issues. Eyeball menaces. They protested his appointment, something he actually agreed with. Putting a fifteen year old on the throne is rarely a smart decision. But the Infinite Realm values strength, the only type of currency that matters in the land of the gods and the dead. Danny? Phantom? He’s got strength in spades. With only a few months of being a ghost, Danny had managed to defeat Pariah Dark, who had cowered gods and struck fear into the hearts of ghost heroes.

But Danny hasn’t quite realized the significance of that yet, too focused on the realization that he was about to be in charge of the infinite realms. The Observants, since his reluctant and extremely limited coronation, has been up his ass about doing things the “proper way.”

Danny’s main problem lies with the ridiculous amount of paperwork though. It’s fine. Tedious. But fine.

But if he gets one more fifteen page essay style complaint form about some guy named Constantine, Danny might seriously reconsider donning Dan’s ruthlessness and offing the guy himself. Perhaps grab the man by his shoulders and shake him like a rag doll and ask who the fuck told him it was a good idea to sell his soul out like that? Danny eventually just sent out Skulker to hunt down the contracts and trade minor services for them. He owns most of the soul now, and perhaps he’ll hunt this guy down and force him to do paperwork.

Regardless, paperwork was just often tedious. He’s worked out a system for himself. The halfa, true to his teenage form, had better things to be doing. His homework, for one. Hanging out with his friends and logging in hours for Doomed 2 would be another. But no, he’s here, twirling a pen as he glared down at a stack of forms for a zone expansion. What the fuck does Zeus want to expand his zone for? The current share space of the sky domain is literally a perfect balance with respect towards the other gods. For the love of- Danny slams down a red ‘REJECTED’ stamp on top of the stack. His hair flickers wildly in annoyance, the iced over Crown floating above his head emitting concerning levels of frost. To anyone else but himself, of course.

He then feels a soft tug on his core.

Right. The third most annoying thing about becoming King: the fucking summoning. Danny taps his pen against his lips, clicking it against his fangs, as he considers the summoning circle that calls him. Huh. Desperation. Mildly bloody. Fear. Resignation- ah, fuck it, it’s not like he’s too enthusiastic about staying to do work with the Observers poking around. He takes the summoning, allowing his regalia to overtake his normal hazmat-clad form, and approves the summoning.

Oh hey, Danny thinks he recognizes that ugly ass trenchcoat.

—-

John Constantine has had more than enough practice summoning things that would give people nightmares. But there are things he normally refuses to touch, refuses to even entertain the idea of trying. As usual, desperation made John its bitch and the Justice League’s battered and bruised faces tugged on his shriveled heart.

He’s going to summon something from the Infinite Realms. Oh, but he wasn’t just summoning any old ghost. No, he thought, I’m just going to summon the one being that’s guaranteed to be able to crush our universe without breaking a sweat. Bollocks.

“Is it ready?”

“Untwist your pants, spooky,” John snaps, wishing he had a crate of whiskey he could down. “We’re trying to summon the Ghost King, not your average demon.”

“What do we know about him?” Batman’s gravelly voice demanded.

“Powerful enough to take us all out without even breaking a sweat. Defeated the bloody tyrant who ruled over the Realms last I heard.”

“That’s it?”

“You could ask Deadman, but I heard he’s on the outs with the Infinite Realms on the fact that he’s made of pure magic, not ectoplasm.”

“There’s no guarantee the king will work with us.” Zatanna says, pressing her fingertips together tiredly. She had been at the forefront of the battle and had paid the price for it. “But he’s supposedly more benevolent than his predecessor… and we’re out of options.”

“Hm.”

“Just make sure to shut up and let me do the talking.”

“Hn.”

John rolls his eyes and takes a fortifying breath, something that does not go unnoticed by the League. They all tense up, preparing themselves for a battle. Another one, seeing as they all got their ass kicked by a ghost only ten hours ago. The League is spread thin, running interference to distract the ghost in question and evacuating civilians.

John Constantine started chanting, the glow of his magic lighting up the circle as he spills his blood into the circle.

He waits, heart in his throat, for the summoning to work.

“Is it supposed to take-” Red Robin asks, only to cut himself off as the circle flares once more. Power pulsates outwards from the circle. Frost crackles on the frost resistant floors, spreading outwards as a green portal rips open the fabric of time and space. Long, spindly imitations of a hand grabs the edges of space and pulls, heaving the rest of his celestial body out of the tear in reality. John does not look away. He can not look away, not from the eerie green pallor of the King, not from his torrential white wisps of hair, not from the black-hole like material of his outfit, not from the nebulas and beginnings and endings tailored onto the King’s cape. John could not look away from the ice crown that floated like a bastion of power above the king’s head.

His mouth is dry. What price will he have to pay to save the world? What price will this being demand of him, of the Justice League, to save the world?

John desperately needs that drink.

—-

Oh! He’s in his home dimension! His core purrs at coming home, at the close proximity to his first haunt.

He was expecting cultists, or even the Winchesters again, but this is nice.

The Justice League- summoning him. Sam and Tucker are going to flip when they hear about this.

They’ve been staring at him in silence for a bit now. It was getting awkward.

“Why have you summoned me?” He asks, softening his tone. By their winces, he didn’t get it as well as he thought. Danny grimaces. At the first sign of discomfort though, the man in the trenchcoat- is that fucking Constantine?!- launches into a nerve filled tirade.

“Your, uh, Majesty.” He starts. “One of… One of your subjects is wreaking havoc on the world. We would be extremely grateful if… if you could reign him in?”

Danny’s face sours, only to quickly clear his expression as he realized how much even a small hint of displeasure causes the jumpiness in Constantine and the others.

“To do that, I will have to make a contract with you, seeing as you’ve summoned me.” Danny drawls, letting his overly long digits wave at the summoning circle in question. He could break it, of course, but Danny’s bored and trying to draw this out. He’s not saying he’d take a batch of cookies as payment but that’s exactly what he’s saying.

“The price… you could always have my soul?”

Danny pauses. “Your… soul?”

Oh, he did not say what he just said.

“Yes. My soul.”

Oh, he did.

Fuck it. Danny’s flashbacks of suffering through the reports pushes green into his irises and urgency to his action.

He breaks out of the circle, hands lunging and gripping Constantine’s jaw tightly. Danny ignores the shouts of alarm as he allows the thrown weapons to pass through him.

John Constantine is panicking now, struggling in the air as Danny lifts him an inch off the floor in agitation.

Good.

“Your soul, little wizard? The one you’ve split eight ways till the thirtieth of February? The one that caused,” he tightens his grip, no doubt bruising the man. “An insane amount of paperwork that I’ve had to suffer through. Your soul, John Constantine?”

Danny hisses his name. The man makes a warbling noise that Danny takes as acknowledgement. Danny bats away the weak spell Zatanna sends at him with a hand.

“You’ll find that I am in the possession of most of your soul contracts. To simply put,” he grins, teeth made of dying stars on display. “I own your soul. My soul, now.”

He drops the wizard who collapses onto his knees to stare up at him in horror, eyes flicking between the circle that was meant to contain him and Danny, who is very much not contained. He crouches down- something necessary but disjointed as he’s not used to this taller form- and speaks to Constantine in a slow, dead serious, drawl.

“If you ever sell your soul again, you and I are going to have issues. Is that clear, John Constantine?”

“Uh- yeah, yes, yes, your majesty.”

Patting his cheek condescendingly, Danny gets up and sighs, stress relieved. He’s starting to feel bad, though, so he allows his form to ripple back to his normal teenage Phantom self.

“Well, it’s not like anyone will buy it, since they know they’ll have to go against me.” He chirps, flipping 180 from his terror inducing eldritch voice. “So, what’ll you pay me to get rid of whatever ghost you’ve got?”

“…. Nothing?”

Red Robin holds out a bag, eyebags betraying his exhaustion. “I’ve got fifty dollars and a bag of cookies.”

Phantom beams at him. “Throw in a couple of autographs and you’ve got a deal.”

“That’s- yeah, okay.” Red Robin says, inching forward cautiously to hand him the bag.

“Great. I’ll be back for them later. You can call me Phantom. ‘Your Majesty’ gets annoying after a while.”

“Thank- thank you for your mercy, Your- Phantom.” Wonder Woman says.

“Sure. Make sure this idiot doesn’t make any more deals with demons while I’m out, yeah?”

With that, Danny Phantom grabs the bag of cookies and fifty dollars and flies through the wall to do his job.

John slams his head onto the space station floor.

“Fuck.”

—-

Danny: lol I’ll do it for the shits and giggles

Constantine and the League: he’s terrifying, a bastion of pure power and authority

Red Robin, Young “we commit war crimes bc it gets shit done” Justice leader and fellow gremlin: he’d probably do it for cookies. I would.

[prettymfwrites]

𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴✞

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: Vampire Paige Bueckers x Female Reader x Vampire Azzi Fudd

Warnings: Dark romance elements, slight obsession, biting/marking, smut, protective/possessive behavior, vampires.

Tone: Spicy, sensual, mysterious, slightly gothic.

☽ FIRST SIGHT ☾

The moment you stepped onto that stage in your blood-red silk and jet-stoned corset, they stopped breathing.

It wasn’t like Paige and Azzi needed to breathe, of course...they were centuries past that point. But watching you twirl under the sultry velvet lights, teasing the edge of your thigh-high stockings with your gloved fingers, they forgot about everything else: the blood, the boredom, the slow decay of time.

You didn’t even look their way as you danced, as if their piercing eyes in the back booth of the club didn’t matter. As if their power, their legacy, their entire cursed eternity couldn’t shake your focus.

That was the moment they knew you had to be theirs.

☽ THE OBSESSION ☾

Azzi was the first to move.

Always quieter, always more patient — she started attending every show. Same seat. Same time. Always a single red rose left backstage with your name scrawled in looping, elegant calligraphy.

Paige? Paige wasn’t so subtle.

She didn’t leave roses. She left messages. A single gold necklace tucked into your purse one night, etched with a symbol you didn’t recognize. A whisper behind your ear after your dance: You’re the most dangerous thing in this room, sweetheart.

You’d turned around, heart racing — and no one was there.

They didn’t try to hide that they were following you. Not really. Not when they’d be leaning against your building’s brick wall when you left the club. Not when you’d catch one of them watching you from across the market square at dusk, dressed in black, eyes glowing just faintly in the moonlight.

Azzi’s smiles were gentle. Paige’s stares were dangerous.

But neither ever crossed the line.

Not until you let them.

☽ WHEN YOU LET THEM IN ☾

“I know you’re watching me,” you whispered one night — after a particularly sensual routine, still flushed from the rush of performance. You were alone in the alley behind the club. “You always are.”

The silence stretched.

Then: “And yet, you don’t run.” Paige’s voice. Low. Velvet-wrapped steel. She stepped out of the shadows.

Behind her, Azzi appeared as if she’d been waiting in the dark for centuries. Her eyes searched your face with something soft. Something eternal.

“I think you like it,” Paige added, stepping closer.

Your heart kicked.

“I think I might,” you whispered.

And that’s when everything changed.

☽ THEIR GIRL ☾

Once you let them in, you never paid for another thing again.

New gowns showed up at your door every week, tailored to perfection — silk, velvet, sheer mesh that made you blush. Your favorite foods, imported wine, fresh fruit, foreign chocolates. Azzi made you a playlist of music from every decade she’d lived through. Paige bought the entire building you lived in — and let you discover that detail only when she casually handed you a key with a smirk.

“You’re not just some fling,” Paige growled one night as she pinned you gently against the wall. “You’re ours. Our queen.”

Azzi kissed your collarbone then, soft as starlight. “We don’t share what we claim,” she murmured.

And gods help anyone who tried.

☽ THE WARNING SIGNS ☾

The town knew. They knew who Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd were.

The immortal kind. The ancient kind. Beautiful and bloody. Their names were never spoken above a whisper. And you — the one they followed, the one they watched — became untouchable.

Most respected the unspoken line.

But not all.

The club’s new manager thought he could corner you backstage. He didn’t get to touch you — Paige had her hand wrapped around his throat before he even reached you. Lifted him off the ground like he was weightless.

Her fangs brushed his jaw.

“I’ve killed gods for less,” she whispered into his ear, voice ice-cold. “What makes you think you’re worth sparing?”

Azzi didn’t say anything. She just looked him in the eyes with a tilt of her head… and he pissed himself before collapsing.

You didn’t ask what they did with him.

You didn’t need to.

☽ IN PRIVATE ☾

Their kisses were everything.

Azzi’s lips were warm, slow — like honey dripping down your throat. Paige? Paige kissed you like she was still starving after a thousand years. She always gripped your waist too tight, always pulled your hair just enough to make your breath hitch.

They loved touching your throat.

Azzi would cradle your jaw, brushing her thumb over your pulse, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to the shell of your ear. Paige would graze her teeth down your neck, not enough to break skin — just enough to make your legs shake.

“You don’t even know what you do to us,” Azzi would whisper between kisses, her hand sliding beneath your skirt as you writhed beneath her.

“Oh, she knows,” Paige would growl, from behind, her hands caging you in, pressing kisses down your spine. “Our sweet little temptation.”

You were always sandwiched between them.

Always worshipped.

Always theirs.

☽ BLOODLUST ☾

Sometimes, Paige would let her fangs drag just a little too long over your skin.

Sometimes, Azzi would hold your hips still and just breathe in the scent of your neck, like she was drowning in it.

“You’re sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted,” Paige admitted once, voice rough, kneeling between your legs. “I could sink my teeth in and still never get enough.”

Azzi’s fangs grazed your thigh, her voice softer. “But we won’t. We won’t hurt you.”

And they didn’t. They never broke skin.

But they bit. Slowly. Sensually. Playfully.

You learned to love the pressure. To crave it. Your body would arch into them when their teeth found your pulse point — legs tightening around Paige’s waist, fingers clawing at Azzi’s back as her mouth worked lower.

You learned their hunger. Their restraint.

And how good it felt to be on the edge of danger without falling.

☽ QUEEN OF NIGHT ☾

They dressed you like royalty — draped in black lace, blood-red jewels, thigh-slit gowns with nothing beneath. Whenever you walked through town on their arms, no one dared meet your gaze. You were the vampires chosen one. The center of their undead universe.

You liked the power. You liked them.

But more than that, you loved how they looked at you — like the centuries they’d spent searching for something worth dying for had finally led to you.

“You’re not just ours,” Azzi whispered once as she ran a clawed finger down your bare back, “we’re yours too.”

Paige leaned in from behind, lips brushing your neck. “And we like it that way.”

☽ THE BEDROOM ☾

Some nights were soft.

Azzi would undress you piece by piece, kissing every inch of revealed skin. Paige would just watch, eyes glowing faintly, stroking your thigh until you whimpered.

Other nights?

Paige would throw you on the bed like she couldn’t wait another second. Azzi would pin your wrists while Paige kissed her way down your ribs. They’d tease you for hours — biting softly, tasting you everywhere, never quite giving in.

“You wanna beg, baby?” Paige would murmur into your ear, her breath hot. “We like it when you beg.”

And gods, you did. You begged.

For their touch. For their teeth. For their fangs.

You barely made it through the front door before Paige had you pinned to it.

Her hands were rough, impatient — gripping your thighs and lifting you off the ground like you weighed nothing. Your legs wrapped around her waist instinctively, your breath catching as her mouth slammed against yours. Hot. Bruising. Hungry.

Azzi was behind you in a second, peeling off your coat, soft lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You were teasing us on stage tonight,” she whispered, voice silk over fire. “You knew we were watching.”

You gasped as Paige ground against your center through your panties, already soaked. “Is that true, baby?” Paige growled against your neck, her fangs grazing just enough to make your thighs tremble.

“I… maybe,” you whispered, dizzy from the scent of them. “I wanted you to see.”

Paige let out a dark chuckle, low in her throat. “Oh, we saw.”

Azzi kissed down the curve of your shoulder. “Now we get to play.”

They took you to the bedroom — or rather, Paige carried you there, not even bothering to take the stairs slowly. She threw you on the bed like she owned it — like she owned you.

“Clothes off,” Paige ordered, already stripping her shirt over her head, lean muscle rippling. Her eyes glowed gold. “Now.”

Your hands trembled, but you obeyed — pulling your top off, your skirt next, baring yourself to their hungry stares.

Azzi reached you first, crawling onto the bed with the grace of a predator. She leaned down, kissing between your breasts, dragging her tongue teasingly along your skin. Her hand slid between your legs, fingers stroking over your soaked panties.

“Look at you,” she whispered, fingers pressing just enough to make you arch. “So wet for us. So pretty.”

You whimpered as she slid your panties down and lowered her mouth — and then Paige was behind you again, kissing the back of your neck, her fingers gripping your jaw.

“You wanna be good for us, baby?” Paige asked, her voice rough, her teeth dragging along your pulse point.

“Yes—” you gasped, “please…”

Azzi moaned against your heat, tongue dipping between your folds. Her tongue was slow. Expert. Relentless. She held your hips down as you writhed, whimpers falling from your lips like prayer.

Paige leaned in, one hand cupping your breast, the other tilting your face toward hers. She kissed you hard, muffling your cries as Azzi sucked your clit with devastating precision.

“You taste divine,” Azzi purred from between your thighs. “Like sin.”

Paige’s fingers were suddenly sliding in from behind — slow at first, then curling just right. You screamed into her kiss, thighs trembling, back arching off the bed.

They took you apart like a ritual. Azzi’s mouth never left your pussy, her lips glossy, her tongue worshiping you. Paige’s fingers were deep and ruthless, coaxing a second orgasm before the first even faded.

“Paige—Azzi—I—fuck—”

You came undone with a cry, body shuddering as Paige bit down gently on your neck — not enough to pierce, just enough to leave a mark. Her fangs grazed your skin like a promise.

“Good girl,” Paige growled, licking the spot she bit, her voice soaked in possessive pride.

Azzi climbed up to kiss you — slow, deep, her lips tasting of you. Her thighs straddled yours, and you felt her heat against your stomach.

“You want more?” Azzi asked softly, brushing your hair back as Paige moved behind you again.

Your answer was a breathless nod.

“Then let us ruin you,” Paige whispered, and they did — again, and again, until you forgot your name and remembered only theirs.

☽ ETERNITY ☾

You never asked what they planned for the future.

But one night, as you lay tangled between them, Paige pressed a cold ring to your finger — carved in ancient symbols you couldn’t read.

Azzi kissed the back of your hand.

“When the time is right,” she whispered, “we’ll ask you to stay forever.”

Paige added, “But only if you want it.”

You didn’t answer right away.

But the way your lips found Azzi’s throat, the way your nails dragged down Paige’s chest, the way you moaned for them when their teeth grazed your skin again and again…

It felt like you already had.