#I haven’t found time to watch that show either…

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[criminalamnesia]

that 141 x reader you just did was so good! i need to know what happens next. like after reader is better, do they stay in the military? stay in 141? or do they take a discharge? I’m not the original ask but it was just so good.

love your writing btw!

thank you! here’s part two :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you were beginning to hate the infirmary.

the white walls. the moans of pain. the smell of bleach and blood.

the reminder of why you were here. of who put you here.

your friends. your family. your team. john. johnny. kyle. simon.

you’d told the doctor to not let your teammates in, and she had tried, but there was only so much she could do. she couldn’t monitor the door all the time, and so a week after waking up from your coma, john price is sitting at your beside once again.

his hands are clasped together, knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. he’s leaning forward, elbows resting on the bed, hands under his chin. his position conveys his regret and worry. he looks like he should be in church, knelt between the pews and spewing silent prayers to a god that isn’t listening.

you haven’t spoken to him since he sat down ten minutes ago. the second you saw him step inside the infirmary, you knew he was there for you. there to try and speak to you, to apologize.

fuck him and his apologies.

you turned your head to the side, eyes staring at the white curtain separating your bed from the next. you studied the stitching while you listened to him breathe next to you. he hadn’t spoken either— just sat down and watched you.

it made your skin crawl, how he thought this was okay. how he thought this would be the way to get back into your good graces.

he clears his throat then, a sound you’ve heard a million times before. it makes you want to gag now.

“love,” his voice is soft, caring. you want to hit him in the jaw.

“can we talk? please?”

you don’t turn over, don’t even spare him a glance. you keep your gaze trained on the curtain. the only giveaway that he has your attention is the fists you clench at your sides.

he takes the silence as an invitation, that bastard.

“what happened—” he begins, then grunts. stops. takes a second, then begins again.

“what we did,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “it wasn’t right. the intel was from a trusted source. we—” he sighs then, and you can tell he’s rubbing his temple. he did that when he was stressed. when he was anxious.

“we were wrong to believe them over you, love. and im— im sorry.”

silence ensues. you don’t give him any indication that you’ve heard what he said. he sighs again, inhaling deeply.

“you’re still part of this team. johnny and gaz, they’ve been sitting outside this damn room like sentries. can barely pry ‘em away for drills.” he chuckles then, but it’s sad. pitiful. mournful.

“there’s nothing we can do to make this right,” he tells you. you’re still mulling over what he said about johnny and gaz. still hung up on the fact that he didn’t mention simon at all.

simon, who did the most damage to you, both psychologically and physically. simon, who shared your bed. simon.

simon, who is too much of a coward to face you for his crimes.

“but we want to try,” price is speaking again. “if you’ll let us.”

he stops talking. waits a beat, then two. then, you hear his chair scrape. he’s getting up, and that’s when you turn your head to face him.

he looks bad. bags under the eyes, skin pale, beard overgrown. you think he deserves this. deserves worse than this. his eyes meet yours, and they widen the tiniest bit at the attention you’re showing him.

your voice is full of venom as you speak.

“nothing,” you seethe, angry tears blurring your vision. “will ever undo what you did to me. what he did to me.”

price knows you’re talking about simon. the whole team knew you were a thing. hell, when they’d strapped you to that chair and debated who would ‘interrogate’ you, they hadn’t even thought to include simon. why would he want to torture the person he loved?

to their surprise, he had volunteered to take point.

“when i get out of this bed,” you continue. “im gone. and i never, never, want to see any of you again, or else im putting a fucking bullet between your eyes.”

the captain doesn’t speak. you can see the remorse on his face. you couldn’t care less about his feelings.

he gives a short nod, and without another word, he turns and leaves the room.

after john’s visit, no one else tries to visit you. you no longer catch glimpses of kyle or johnny outside the infirmary door. you’re glad they’re starting to get the hint.

but you’re still getting flowers. you don’t know where they’re coming from. sometimes they’re dropped off by a nurse, other times they appear in the morning after a restless sleep. there’s never a note. never anything to suggest who would be leaving them.

you know it’s one of the 141, but you don’t know exactly who. you feel certain it’s not simon.

but, unbeknownst to you, it is him. he knows you don’t want to see him— to see any of them. price had told them all about what you’d said to him during your talk.

price had also told them that he’d already started preparing your transfer papers. that had caused an uproar from soap, who’d quickly been quieted by a saddened price.

simon had expected it. expected worse, actually. he knew that if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have been as merciful as you. it made him hate what they’d done to you so much more.

there had been the tiniest doubt in his mind when all the evidence pointed to you. he hadn’t believed it at first— and then things became damning. everything pointed to you. trusted sources were pointing their fingers at you, and everyone listened. he had listened.

he had volunteered to torture you because he’d been angry. rage he hadn’t felt in years bubbled to the surface of his skin, and he wanted to tear you limb from limb. how dare you come into their lives— his life— and betray them so substantially?

simon didn’t trust easily. he was battered and broken and scarred. shattered and malformed pieces hastily glued back together. he let the team in. let you in. let you see his face. let you into his bed. let you into his fucking heart.

and you turned around and drove a dagger into him. or so he thought.

he thought his anger and actions had been justified. thought he was doing the world a favor by butchering you. but he was wrong. the team was wrong.

he finds himself regretting how he hadn’t listened to your pleas, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

he knows the chances of you forgiving him, of letting him back into your life, are slim to none. but how could he not at least try?

you’d know each other for years. been together for years. all of it thrown away because he still knew the hurt of betrayal all too well. because it was too easy to fall back into the mindset that it was him against everyone. that the only person he knew, the only one he could rely on, was himself.

so he left flowers. your favorite ones. and he did so without making you face him, without apologizing or groveling. it was the least he owed you.

a month after your coma, you were finally allowed out of the infirmary. you were still healing, skin still tender and bruised. pink, jagged scars lining your skin; eternal reminders of the pain you’d been subjected to.

you’d been given a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which you’d pulled on with much fuss. every time you struggled or stumbled, you found yourself getting angry. angry at the men who did this to you.

the anger was going to eat you alive, at least that’s what the psychologist that had been dropping by to see you had said. she’d told you you need to let it go, and you’d laughed in her face.

how do you let something like this go?

you didn’t know. you didn’t think you were strong enough to do that. not a good enough person to forgive the men that had carved into you.

once you had dressed, you shuffled out into the hallway. you’d profusely denied an escort, and the doctor had reluctantly acquiesced. she’d let you go, with just the promise that you’d keep your iv hooked in.

so here you were, trudging down the halls of the base, iv pole rattling along behind you.

you could feel eyes on you, but no one dared to get too close. you were glad. you didn’t want more empty apologies and sympathetic words.

you still remembered the way to price’s office like the back of your hand. you doubted you’d ever forget it.

time and time again you’d found yourself here. sometimes, getting reprimanded. others, congratulated. a few times you’d shown up in tears, and price had let you in without a word.

now you were standing outside his door, trying to contain the rage in your veins.

you raised a hand. knocked once, firm and loud.

“come in!” price called from inside.

you were already twisting the door knob, pushing into the room.

your eyes found price first. he was leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. his hat was absent from his head, instead resting beside him on the desk.

and then you noticed simon.

he was wearing all black. his hands were covered, bones decorating the black gloves. gloves you’d seen many times before. gloves that had been pressed to gunshots, trying to stop the bleeding.

the lower half of his face was covered, allowing you to see from his eyes up. his sandy blonde hair was ruffled.

you quickly turned your attention back to price.

“love, what are you doin’ here? you should be in bed—” he began, but you waved a hand as you stepped further into the room. you pulled your iv pole in behind you, then kicked the door shut.

“don’t talk, just listen. i still mean what i said when you came to visit. the only reason im here right now is because you haven’t put in for my fucking transfer.” you hissed.

the captain’s eyes widened, his face taking on a sheepish expression at the revelation that he’d been caught. simon stood quietly beside him, eyes trained on you. you ignored him.

“love, i didn’t want to do anything before you were ready—” he began. you cut him off.

“bullshit! you didn’t want to do anything because you don’t want me to leave. you want me to forgive you, right? hear you all out? come back and be a happy little family again?”

the room fell eerily silent as you stared at the captain. your heart was roaring in your ears.

“put in the fucking transfer, john.” you finished.

he reluctantly nodded. he inhaled, his eyes glancing at his lieutenant briefly, before he spoke again.

“of course, love. ‘m sorry.”

you didn’t say anything else. you turned to go, your back to the men, when simon’s voice cut through the air.

“you should be respectful to your captain, sergeant.”

you froze as you took in his words. was he fucking serious?

you didn’t turn around. you trained your eyes on the door as you spoke words through gritted teeth.

“you should watch your tongue, lieutenant, before I fucking cut it off.”

with that, you pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, slamming it loudly behind you.

author’s note:

apologies for the wait! I hope everyone enjoyed! (this is being posted before proofreading, so I hope it’s okay— I’ll read through it later, it’s just late and im tired lol)

[joannasprose]

now I bend like a willow, thinkin’ of you.

shy!reader who gifts abby sliced fruit as symbolization for love and affection <3

———

“For me?” Abby says, watching as you hold out a bowl of sliced watermelons in front of her, eyes darting from the floor to the ceiling—looking everywhere but at her.

“Yeah,” you begin, “you said you liked them. I thought I’d make a bowl for you.” Abby doesn’t recall telling you such a small detail like that—and didn’t expect you to remember it either. She smiles, one that shows the pearls resting inside her gums—a smile that always seemed to make you shyer than you ever had been before.

“Can you look at me?” She asks, hands sunken into her grey sweats, eyes still on you—still so unbearably soft. She watches as your eyes grow wide—from embarrassment on your part, but she renders it such a sweet thing, to see you gushing over such a simplistic question.

“I—“ you start but you falter. She watches the struggle, the way you begin to chew on your cheek and the you try to slyly clutch the container against your chest. But she doesn’t comment. She doesn’t pry. She waits. And she watches as you look up to her eyebrows still knitted together in the way they always had been—something she found so appealing about you. And she finally meets your eyes. The ones she’s been searching for this entire time.

“I’m sorry.” You say, but she quickly rejects all of your apologies with a shake of her head as she takes her hands out of her pockets. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You haven’t done anything wrong.” She says, her smile dying down, but it’s there. More softer. So she doesn’t risk the chance of scaring you away.

“I just want you to look at me. You don’t have to, of course. I just like it when you do.” Abby watches as you fight the smile that tugs at your lips. She watches the way your eyes flicker from her face to every corner of the room.

And she can’t help but smile.

———

tbh this is probably one of the worst things I’ve ever written but I wanted to get something out! I promise the next thing I write will be proofread and edited <3



[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

[canyonmooncreations]

Simon Shares

Simon x reader, TF 141 x Reader

Summary: The team gathers at Simon’s house where his perfect girl hosts them. It’s a typical gathering, until it’s not (reader takes them all)

Authors note: I haven’t written a full piece in so long! I hope you don’t hate it 😭 just horny thoughts 😭

Warnings: reader is a needy slut, takes them all, p in v, spanking, overstimulation, and I think that’s it?

You and Simon have been together for quite a while. Engaged actually. That being said, you’ve meet his team several times and have grown to like them and they have grown to love you plenty. You’ve hosted them for cookouts, watching the ball games, and sometimes just for cards and beer.

When the boys are over, you’re always sitting on Simon’s lap or close enough for him to have a hand on your thigh or around your hip.

You’re comfortable around them. They don’t mind that you join them. Simon doesn’t mind the way their eyes rake over your body when you’re serving them food. He doesn’t mind the comments they make after you’ve walked away. To be truthful, he doesn’t mind the idea of sharing his pretty little thing with them.

Usually the night ends long after you’ve gone to bed. Waking up to Simon crawling into bed and wrapping you in his arms. Tonight was different

The boys were coming over for a cookout and cards, typical. When you were on your grocery run you decided to not only buy their beer but also some fruity little drinks for yourself. Simon didn’t mind when you put them in the cart, only replying with a hum. He knew this could end with trouble but wanted to see how it played out. He knew alcohol made you horny and needy. He knew bratty you got when you didn’t get your way. But maybe this was his opening…

The night began like any other. The boys arrived and found their seats on the patio. You served them dinner. They made their remarks as you walked back in the house. Simon smirked as he noticed the extra sway of your hips as the alcohol gave you some extra confidence.

After dinner, you found your spot on Simon’s lap. He could tell you’ve almost reached your limit. He noticed the way wiggled in his lap. He noticed the pout on your lips when his hands stopped your movement. John was the first to notice. He noticed your little show and saw the pout of your lips. John flashed a smirk at Simon and was met with one back.

The boys continued to play their cards and you continued to get needier. Johnny could help but notice the way your nipples perk through your little tank top. Nudging Kyle to look too.

You were oblivious to the three men staring at you and chuckling at your neediness. All you wanted was Simon’s attention and he was too busy playing cards.

You eventually realized you weren’t going to get what you wanted and decided on just pouting. Arms crossed, pouty lips, and your back to Simon’s chest. You could feel the occasional chuckle but refused to acknowledge him.

“Baby, w’don’t ya go grab us some more beer?” Usually this was met with a kiss to the lips and you finding your way inside. Today, however, he was met with nothing.

John chimed in. “Yeah sweetheart, could use another cold one.” He flashed you a smile. Nothing. You refused to acknowledge any of them.

“I think someone is pouting”. You didn’t miss the mocking tone in Kyle’s voice.

“Am not!!” You all but yelled at him. Voice laced with attitude.

All the eyebrows were raised. You hadn’t ever dared to act like this around them. Them only ever seeing your sweetness.

Simon didn’t hesitate to pick you up and carry you inside. He sat you down on the kitchen counter and let his hands fall to either side of you. He wanted to give you a chance to fix it.

“What’s the problem? Hmm?”

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes. “Just need you!” Your pouty lip returned. Simon chuckled. “It’s not funny”, you say as you attempt to push him away.

“I know, baby, I know. I’ll give you all the attention you need later. But for now, I need you to be a good girl. Can you do that? Can you be patient?”

He didn’t miss your eye roll or the way you squirmed at being called a good girl. Nonetheless, you nodded and wiped your tears. Simon moved away to grab some beers from the fridge.

“Now when we get back out there, you’re going to apologize for your attitude and just sit patiently. Be a good girl, hm?”

“Yes, Si…” Simon helped you off the counter and guided you back to the patio.

“Oh thank you for the drink darling” Johns voice dropping with amusement as they could all see your tear stained eyes and pouty lip still present.

“Yah, such a sweet girl” Johnny replied.

Simon was still standing behind you as you finished passing out the drinks. He landed a gentle (for Simon) smack on your ass as a little nudge to get started with your apology. He didn’t miss the way Kyle and Johnny were readjusting in their seats

“‘m sorry for having an attitude…” your sentence was punctuated with a sigh as you sat down onto Simon’s lap again. The boys chuckled and began their card game once again. Simon readjusted you to where you were straddling one of his legs. Playing it off as he needed better access to the table.

Your neediness had subsided for only a few minutes before your hips began to roll on Simon’s thigh. Kyle and Johnny’s eyes widened at the sight. John only smirked.

As John was passing out the cards for the new round, Simon cleared his throat.

“The winner of this round can take care of this needy slut I have here. Can’t help but be needy. Isn’t that right?”

You suddenly got shy, sinking back into Simon.

“Oh come on baby, just so needy. It’s okay, we’ll get somebody to take care of you”

A whine escapes your lips as Simon ignores you in his lap. The game carries on with every man playing and praying for a chance at the pretty little thing in Simon’s lap. The round ends as Simon places down his last card.

“Come on, that’s not fair!” Kyle exclaims. Frustrated and bulging in his pants.

“Rules are rules” John replies as he eyes Simon.

“Your lucky day” Simon readjust you and begins to unzip his pants. Your panties are soaked at this point. Pussy dripping with desire at the idea of Simon taking you right here in front of them or the idea of one of them taking you. “Take em off”.

You get a little shy as your realize Simon is really going to take you right here. In front of all of them. “Come on baby, show em what they missed out on.”

You slowly take them off and Simon lowers you down onto his lap. The boys are drooling at this point. Palming themselves through their pants at the sight of Simon’s giant cock sliding into your soaking little pussy. Simon lets you ride him for just a little until he can tell you’re close to cumming. He hands still your hips and a whimper leaves your mouth.

“That’s enough baby. Gonna let someone else feel you. Whoever is lucky enough to win this round”

The round goes on for what feels like hours. Simon still hard inside you with his hands finding your hips anytime you try to move. He gives you a warning squeeze as he stills your hips once more.

You can’t help it. You’re just so so needy. You find your hips moving once again in search of any release. What you didn’t expect was Simon’s hand coming down, smacking your pussy.

“That’s enough.” His sentence punctuated with another slap. A moan escapes your lips. The round finally comes to and end as John puts down his last card Simon chuckles as he lifts you off his lap. You’re hesitant. Is this really happening? Is Simon really gonna let someone else fuck you? You question is answered with a smack to your ass. Your legs are wobbly as you make your way over to John. He already has his dick out, hand moving up and down.

“Come here sweetheart.” His hands find your hips as he guides you down onto him. You moan as he moves you up and down. “God Simon, such a perfect little thing you have. Taking me nice and good.” John fucks you nice and slow. Rolling your hips and helping you bounce up and down

All cards are on the table as all men have their hands wrapped around their cocks. All rock hard at the sight of John fucking Simon’s little play thing.

As you chase your high, John’s quickly follows. Your eyes meet Simon’s. His laced with lust and desire. You’re laced with need. Simon stands and makes his way to you, where you still sit with John’s cock inside you.

“There’s my good girl. Why don’t you show Johnny just how good you can be?”

You let him help you off of John’s lap and over to Johnny’s. Simon moves to behind Johnny and removes your top. Leaving you bare and vulnerable. Simon leans against the railing and watches as his teammate fucks you He doesn’t give you much time to rest. Johnny doesn’t take you as soft as John. He’s pounding in and out of your pussy. Tits bouncing in his face. He fucks you hard and fast. You’re quick to come again, Johnny coming with you. Your face falls to his shoulder “where’s that attitude now?” Johnny quips.

The boys chuckle as the pout reruns to your lip. “Oh there it is!” Kyle laughs as Simon guides you over to Kyle.

“Need help? Hm? Need to me help fix that attitude?” Kyle is grinning as Simon helps you onto his lap.

“Yes she does. Help her out Kyle” Simon is leaning back on the railing as the moans escape from your lips. Kyle isn’t gentle or nice. His hands find your nipples as he makes your ride him. More moans escaping as your hands find his wrists. His hands find your hips as he notices your slowing down from being tired. He pounds into you as you once again chase your high as he does too. “Too much” you mutter.

Simon helps your off his lap and bends you over the table. Before you can protest, he’s deep inside you pounding in and out.

“Is this what my needy slut wanted? Did you want me to fuck you here in front of all of them? Did you want them to fuck you? Just so needy.”

You can’t help as the tears fall down your cheeks. It’s just too much. You can’t take anymore.

Almost as if he can read your mind, “come on baby, just one more”. The boys coo at you as Simon takes you from behind. Their hands find your nipples, your ass, roaming your body. Their hands make your body burn from the overstimulation of taking them all.

Simon coaxes one more out of you and comes in you as the other boys cum leaks out. He can’t help but moan at the sight. Pussy dripping with all their cum, hips and ass red from their hands guiding you up and down, and cheeks tear stained from it being all too much.

John returns to the patio with a wet rag, not that you noticed he left. Simon helps your get cleaned up and Kyle helps you get dressed. Johnny brings you a glass of water and fixes your hair out of your face.

Simon picks you up as your wrap your legs and arms around him. He carries you inside and helps you to bed. He leaves you after holding you for a few minutes with a kiss on your forehead

He walks back outside to all the boys with a huge smile on their face. What you don’t realize is that it takes Simon way longer than usual to join you in bed. Too wrapped up in conversation with his boys about how beautiful and perfect you are.

Let’s just say, the gatherings are way more eventful after today. The boys finding more and more reasons to come over. You finding more and more reasons to host them. Simon doesn’t mind and you definitely don’t.

[sixosix]

no one's ever had me, not like you

timeskip!hinata shoyo x reader

“Are you really sure that you’re swearing off of dating?”

You wonder how many times you’ll be asked that before you finally get pressured into mingling just to get them off your back. But Akane, bless her heart, looks genuinely concerned, like choosing to stay single was a cruel fate she wouldn’t wish for anyone to bear.

“It’s not a big deal,” you tell her. “Dating’s just not for me.”

You think back to all your previous relationships, and find that you have never been more sure of your decision.

“It just means you haven’t found the right one!” To your left, Yuki, who is alarmingly a lot of shots in, exclaims. She becomes violent when drunk. You would know, your arm is starting to turn red from her smacking when laughing.

You shrug uncomfortably. “I’m not looking for any right one.”

Akane and Yuki share a glance.

“Well, if you say so,” Akane cedes.

Then Yuki slams her hands on the table as she bolts upright, expression grave and voice low as she says, “We’re doing it, though, right?”

You laugh under your breath. Yuki looks a little ridiculous, drunk, and swaying on her feet even when standing still. Her grip on her glass wavers, and you quickly pluck it from her grasp, ignoring her protesting wail.

Akane brightens. “Yes! Of course we’re doing it!”

You instead hand Yuki a glass of water. “Doing what? Are you two up to no good again?”

“Yes!” Yuki exclaims at the same time Akane calmly clarifies, “Noya’s inviting close friends out for dinner tomorrow.” Which makes sense, because they were pretty much the same thing.

“Oh! Nishinoya’s back?”

“Just arrived today! He said he’s visiting for a while.” Akane fishes out her phone from her hand, then pulls out the class’s group chat that you could never bring yourself to check ever since it hit 999+ notifications. It displays a picture of Nishinoya holding up a peace sign, face serious, and next to a large airport sign.

You hum thoughtfully. “I guess if you guys are coming…”

“Let’s go!” Yuki pumps her fists in the air. Akane smiles and tells her to settle down. Akane drank twice as many shots than her.

“Who else is coming?” You ask. “I might pass if it’s the entire school.”

“Noya’s not that wild. I heard it’s just his volleyball team, Ryuunosuke, and us,” Akane says. “I heard they’re also celebrating because Noya’s treating his kouhai’s return from Brazil.”

“Brazil?” The other side of the world! “Yuu and his friends sure are adventurous,” you remark in amusement, sipping idly on your own drink. It’s milder than either of theirs since you were assigned as the designated driver.

“You’ve heard of the guy. Hinata Shoyo, I think it was.”

You inhale your drink and start heaving. Akane’s hands flutter all over you in panic while Yuki descends in deep thought.

Yuki snapped her fingers. “Oh, right! Wasn’t that the first year who had a big crush on you when we were in second year? Noya’s favorite kouhai, Shoyo.”

Hinata Shoyo.

The first time you met Hinata Shoyo was when Nishinoya decided to invite close friends to watch them play. It was an ordinary day, and they had just come back from the Interhigh preliminaries. Their coach agreed to let them take it slow and relax, so Noya used it as an opportunity to invite his friends (it was just you who was free) to watch (read: to show off).

Having nothing better to do during club hours, you agreed.

You were late, stuck with cleaning duty, and forced to catch up to Noya, who had first wheeled into the volleyball gymnasium. The door was shut. You took deep, deep breaths before sliding it open and nearly having your face flattened by a volleyball speeding towards you.

Well, of course, it was a volleyball gymnasium.

Luckily, you managed to swerve out of the way and prevent long-lasting damage to your face. But the shock was more brutal than the would-be impact. You gaped at the ball that rolled onto the grass miles away. Just how fast was that thing?

“Y/N!” Nishinoya’s voice rang throughout the stunned silence of the gym.

Your head whipped around just in time to see a little guy with a mop of orange hair bound over to you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—-” He then looked up at you, now only inches away, and seemed to have run out of apologies. His face exploded in a bright shade of red, but his eyes looked like they were bluescreening.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s fine!” You wave your hand to dismiss his guilt. “I didn’t actually get hit. Well—almost. But I didn’t! That was amazingly fast!” You hoped the praise would snap him out of it, but he was still gaping at you like you’d grown two heads. Or maybe you had something on your face?

Nishinoya comes barreling over soon enough, brows furrowed. “Y/N! Are you okay? You could’ve died!”

You frowned. “Idiot. I’m not going to die from that.”

Your statement seemed to shatter the tension that froze everyone in place. The captain murmured for them to continue practicing as Noya fluttered all over you like a mother hen, insisting on an ice pack.

Tanaka materialized out of nowhere. “Y/N! It’s you!”

“Ryuu!” You exclaim in delight, returning his hug. “Ryuu, it’s nice to see you again!”

Nishinoya turned to the tiny redhead with a raised eyebrow. “You good, Shoyo?”

Shoyo finally flinched out of his daze, narrowly avoiding your curious eyes. “Y-Yes! I’m just—I’ll go get the ball!” he squeaked out, nearly tripping over his own feet on a flat surface.

Nishinoya snorted, sharp eyes following Shoyo. “I think he has a crush on you.”

Tanaka cackled. “No way! Is that why Hinata looks so constipated?”

Hinata Shoyo. You glanced back just in time to catch him fumbling with the volleyball, trembling like a frightened mouse. It’s cute.

Now, you can confidently state that Hinata Shoyo is no longer just cute. Five years later, July, in an unsuspecting get-together party hosted by Nishinoya, and Hinata Shoyo definitely isn’t the same as before.

“Everyone!” Nishinoya’s voice bellows out throughout the venue. For such a small guy, he has the voice of a booming speaker. “Everyone, quiet! Shoyo’s here!”

Choruses of Hinata! echo through everyone as the crowd dispersed and bounded over to where Nishinoya was. You hear a faint laugh and a “Thank you!” From here, you could tell that his voice had gotten deeper. Still light and high, but it was different from the squeakiness you remembered.

Ever since finding out that Hinata had been back from Brazil, it turns out that his grand debut in the Nationals was aired all over. He’s famous now, not just some kid in Karasuno’s Volleyball Club.

“Ooh,” Yuki giggles maniacally. She hasn’t drunk anything yet. “He’s here. Do you think he still has a crush on you?”

“I doubt it. It was probably because I was his senpai back then. Remember how you reacted to Daichi-san visiting our hall? Everyone in our class was swooning, especially the boys!”

“Something about volleyball players, I tell you,” Yuki says, her gaze drifting over to where Akane was giggling as she talked with them. “Hmm. Speaking of them, I think one of them is on his way here.”

“What?”

Yuki takes one last sip of her tequila shot and leaves without another word. You didn’t have to turn—didn’t even have to move. You can feel his presence the moment he is right behind you, like a burst of warmth hovering, but it’s gold and bright, so you’re not terrified

Hinata Shoyo sits beside you, asking for a drink. You can’t help but stare.

He turned to you, then seemed to do a double take. Hinata Shoyo—now built twice as big as he once was; no longer the cute, lanky, and short kouhai from your past; with neatly trimmed hair and a much deeper voice—stares at you in astonishment. Hinata Shoyo emits a wordless exclamation.

“Senpai!” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Hinata,” you laugh softly, fondly. “We’re not in high school anymore. I’m pretty sure we’re the same age. You can just call me Y/N.”

“Y-You—” He splutters, face tinged pink despite the untouched shot in front of him. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.” You smile, tilting your head and grinning wider at the way his eye catches on the curve of your neck. “So, how have you been?”

He forgets about the drink he just ordered, seemingly getting redder in the face as you inch closer. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed he was drunk. Hinata Shoyo grins sheepishly, blushing and looking beautiful under the dim lighting of the venue.

Swearing off of dating, hmm… 

You consider him—his bright eyes, his wide and ever-genuine smile, and his undivided attention on you. Does he still have a crush on you? Or was it just the surprise that had him so flustered? You throw your head back and gulp down a shot, ignoring the burn that slid down your throat. You suppose there was no harm in finding out.

[freshxsturniolo]

shes the one - chris sturniolo x fem!reader

chris was in awe. complete awe.

and he was completely and utterly in love with you.

he told you, every single day. he wasn’t afraid to tell you either. if you were alone together, if you were in the company of others, if you were not even there he would text you.

but right now, back at his childhood home in boston, he couldn’t believe his eyes. he couldnt believe he had found someone like you. the way you sat on the sofa with his dad, feet up and tucked under your legs, drinking a beer with him as his dad chatted away to you about everything and anything.

the way you would ask his mom if there was anything she needed help with when she was cooking or washing up. the way you jumped out of your seat when mary-lou announced she needed to run to the grocery store and you wanted to go for a ride with her.

you had met his family many times before, but there was something about this specific visit that felt so different.

he’s watching you now, finishing up drying your hands after you demanded mary-lou go sit with jimmy after cooking you all food and you said you’d wash the dishes.

“get the boys to help” mary lou had said once you had argued back and fourth about who would wash them, and you simply laughed, telling her to go and sit with jimmy AND the boys and to enjoy some time together.

but chris couldn’t handle it when his mom walked into the sitting area and she said, “that girl of yours, don’t be a fool and lose her.”

he had smiled and laughed, but he got up off his feet to come and see you and his heart swell at the sight of you washing up. you had given him a smile as you saw him enter, and a quick kiss as he walked by you before he started taking the dishes off the drying rack and washing them with a towel. you had shook your head with a laugh and continued on in silence, just grateful for his presence.

“i could have done this myself” you said now, drying off your hands. chris takes the towel from you and throws it into the laundry basket not too far away.

“i haven’t seen you all day” he says, and you roll your eyes as you lean yourself back against the counter, arms outstretched at the side of you.

“so dramatic, christopher owen.” you say with a smirk, and he can’t help but smile with you as he comes close to you, hands on your hips as he presses his hips against yours.

“if you’re not with my mom, you’re with my dad” he says, and you laugh as you bring your arms around his neck.

“i’m lucky enough to live with you back in la, im sorry that i want to spend time with your parents”

chris smiles. “never apologise. they love you”

now you smile. “good, i love them too”

he closes the small gap between you now as he lips reach yours in a soft but gentle touch. you can feel the shift in energy. you yourself knew that this trip felt slightly different. jimmy and mary-lou had always been so lovely to you, and they never had ever given you a reason to fear they didn't like you, but something about this trip felt different. your conversations with them felt easier than ever, you looked forward to sitting with jimmy on the sofa or running to the store with mary-lou. it had also felt different with his brothers too. you had lived with the triplets for the last 6 months, matt and nick where your best friends, but you felt the difference with them too. the way you and nick would just lay in his bed in a morning chatting, or you'd sit on his bedroom floor whilst you got ready for the day to listen to your shared playlist together but you knew chris wouldn't like it. or the way matt would pull you away from whatever you were doing to go get iced coffees. it was lovely, and comforting, and when you pulled away from chris right now you saw in his eyes too that something had shifted.

you're about to say something when jimmy enters the room.

"hey kids," he says. not an ounce of change or show of being bothered that his son was wrapped around the arms of his girlfriend in the middle of his kitchen.

"hey, dad" chris says, but he doesn't move away from you. your heart swells. chris was not afraid of public affection but you know full well the last trip here, he'd have pulled away from you now. would have probably given your waist a small squeeze and given you a small smirk but you'd have each pulled away. chris stayed put. his eyes hadn't left yours.

"i hope you helped with those dishes" jimmy says, walking over the fridge and pulling out a soda can. you peer over your boyfriends shoulder to look at him.

"he did" you smile, and jimmy laughs, but he's cut off by mary-lou.

"y/n, i feel so awful. is there anything left to wash?"

you look to your side as chris' mum comes walking over the both of you, looking into the empty sink and drying rack. she smiles as she places a hand on your arm, an arm thats still wrapped around her sons neck, and she gives it a small squeeze.

"thank you" she says, and you nod.

"of course!" you exclaim, and its you who's the first to unwrap yourself from chris. once mary-lou lets go of your arm, you slowly unwrap yourself from chris' neck, and when you look back at him, he lets out a small groan.

"chris" you laugh, running your hands down his arms just slightly and he eventually lets go. "im going to change into some comfies."

chris smiles at you. "okay."

you smile as you step to the side of him, squeezing slightly past mary-lou as she goes to grab a cup from the cupboard not too far from you, and you exit the kitchen and off to chris' childhood bedroom.

when you're gone, chris sighs and leans back against the counter you just removed yourself from, folding his arms across his chest before finally diverting his eyes to his parents. his mom is busy making herself a drink but when he diverts his eyes to his dad, he's leant against the island in the middle of the kitchen and he's staring at his son deeply. he gives him a smile, and chris smiles too before walking over. chris grabs himself and you a pepsi from the fridge, before joining his dad in the exact same position. chris knows once you're in your comfier clothes you'll come back into the kitchen for a drink, so he wants to wait for you. jimmy looks down at the two pepsi cans, and the thoughts that were just running through his mind as he was watching the two of you surfaced up to his lips. he can't help himself.

"you really love her, dont you?"

chris scoffs slightly, not a conversation he imaged to be having with his dad, but also never feeling so strongly about anything in his life. he looks up at his dad and a smile comes over him.

"yeah. so much."

jimmy shoves his shoulder with his son, a feeling in his chest. the first of his sons to find someone. the first son to bring a girl (or boy for nick ofc) home, properly. chris laughs as he takes a sip from his pepsi can.

"we can tell" jimmy says now, before he looks up to find his wife has joined them. mary-lou looks towards chris with a smile on her face.

"something feels different this visit. she feels like part of the family. properly." his mom says, and chris can feel himself wanting to open up. he swallows his own salvia that has built up in his mouth before looking between his mom and dad. but when his eyes reaches his dad, he knows he knows already. he gives him a nod and chris can't help but laugh.

"shes the one, dad. i know it."

chris doesn't need to look at his mom to know she's smiling from ear to ear, but his dad nodded in understand, a smile playing on his lips and hes leans into his sons shoulder, before ruffling up his hair.

"i know, kid. i know."

theres a nice silence then, gentle and comforting before the sound of your scream is heard. all 3 of them stand directly up before your laughter is heard.

"nick!" the 3 hear you scream, before laughter erupts from matt and nick. chris looks at his mom and dad with a confused expression as you and his 2 brothers can be heard laughing throughout the house, before you all enter the kitchen to join them. mary-lou and jimmy erupting into laughter as they see nick carrying you over his shoulder. you're clinging onto his waist for dear life as he walks you over to chris, putting you back down directly at his side.

you're changing into your favourite tracksuit bottoms and from the waft of chris' aftershave that enters his nose, he knows you're wearing one of his fresh love hoodies and not your own, and as you whip your head around and fix at your hair he sees your cheeks are flushed. you let out a deep breath of air before turning to mary-lou.

"you deserve a medal for putting up with these boys for 20 years." you laugh.

"we want ice cream" nick says now, coming behind you and putting his hands on your shoulders, giving them a shake. you dramatically roll your eyes before matt leans forward and swipes at the unopened pepsi can chris had got out for you.

"hey" chris says, taking it back. "thats for y/n."

matt looks at you directly in the eye before opening the can and taking a deep sip. you gasp, pretending to be offended before matt rolls his eyes and moves towards the fridge, getting you out a fresh can and placing it in front of you.

"thank you, bernard." you say, and matt groans.

"your girlfriend is insufferable." matt says, before grabbing his car keys from his pocket. "ice cream?" he says, before walking off and heading towards the front door.

nick finally lets go of your shoulders and walks off to follow matt, and jimmy and mary-lou laugh as they walk off back into the direction of the living area. when you finally turn around and face chris, he looks at you softly.

"you okay?" you say.

he smiles. "never better."

you stand on your tip toes to give him a kiss, which he accepts, before you grab his hand, your free hand grabbing the pepsi from a moment ago, and drag him out of the kitchen. he laughs at your eagerness, his mind going over the comfortableness you clearly felt around all his family. nick carrying you on your shoulder, matt jokingly stealing your drink, and he's about to tell you he loves you when you dead stop at the sitting area door. jimmy and mary-lou look up at you both, and a smile illuminates your face.

"do you two want some ice cream bringing back?" you say with a smile.

"no thanks, honey. thank you so much for asking" mary-lou smiles.

"are you sure?" you say.

"absolutely. go enjoy yourselves."

all whilst the small interaction, jimmy is watching his son stare down at you dotingly. when you carry on walking and drag chris with you, his son catches his eye just slightly, and jimmy gives him a nod of understanding.

when you reach outside, matt and nick are already in the car, but you dont get chance to get to them before chris stops dead, pulling your arm back. you spin around quickly, looking to see whats wrong.

"what's up?" you say, but chris pulls you in even closer and plants a kiss on your lips. you're shocked, but it doesnt take you long before you melt into him. when you pull away, you look up at him with a smile.

"what was that for?"

chris smiles. "i love you, thats all."

"i love you too, silly."

"no," chris shakes his head. "i really really love you."

you smile. "you are everything to me, chris. my everything."

"that feeling is mutual."

"will you two hurry up?" matt shouts from his car, and you giggle as you turn around and hurry over to the car.

chris watches you with a smile, wondering how he got so lucky.

[hollandsangel]

2:15 am | c. sturniolo

HI yes im alive who’s surprised (me, i am)

self proclaimed mayor of the ‘chris can’t sleep alone’ club (doing gods work, you’re welcome)

summary: chris cant sleep & you’re the perfect remedy

wc: 834

gif by @hotelstares !

you haven’t been asleep very long. maybe twenty minutes or half an hour.

you’re in the midst of a fuzzy dream when your phone starts to vibrate on your dresser next to your bed. the sound is difficult to recognize at first, getting all mixed up with your dream in your mind. eventually it wakes you up, tugging you away from the soft haze you’d been emersed in.

groggily, you reach over for the device, squinting your eyes to try and read the contact. your eyes are bleary, but you’re able to make out your boyfriends name and contact photo after a brief seceond.

“chris?” you wonder through the line upon answering, voice thick with sleep and hardly above a whisper.

“hey ma,” his voice is smooth, like he hasn’t been asleep yet.

“hi…i think i was dreaming about you,” you say as you let your head fall back against the pillow, rubbing gently at your eyes with your other hand.

“yeah?” he says through a deep breath. the smile your confession elicits from him is audible and contagious.

“yeah, either that or i just spent the last four days with you and my brain hasn’t realized we’re apart yet,” you think he must be able to hear your smile as well.

“my brain hasn’t really realized it either,” he mumbles, getting a little bit shy.

you close your eyes, content being soothed by his voice.

“what time is it?” you ask him, even if you could easily look at your phone screen for the answer. opening your eyes feels like too much work.

chris answers of course, without hesitation, “2:15,”

“it’s pretty late, you okay, bub?” you ask him before answering your own question, “can’t sleep?” you know how he gets, always needing someone close by when he drifts off.

you can imagine it’s a bit difficult tonight, considering you spent the last few nights sharing his bed. you’d found it a little harder than normal too, having gotten used to his arms tucked around you, his face pressed against your shoulder blade.

“i miss you,” he mutters and it makes you blush, “and i don’t wanna crawl into bed with matt or nick, i know it won’t help,” he admits, letting out a long breath.

“you wanna come over?”

“would that be okay?” he seems a little bit embarrassed, like he might be inconveniencing you.

“of course, chris,” you open your eyes now, reaching over to turn on your bedside lamp, “i want cuddles now,” you say sheepishly, face still half pressed against your pillow, muffling the words.

“mmk, i’ll get an uber, be there soon,”

“kay, love you,” you sigh, waiting for him to hang up.

“love you too,” he says first, making you smile even if you’ve heard it a thousand times.

in the twenty minutes it takes for chris to show up, you’re drifting in and out of sleep, trying your hardest to keep the lull of exhaustion at bay as you wait, no matter the difficulty.

soon enough, the sound of a key in the lock sends a small jolt of wakefulness through you, and you anticipate the subtle push of the door as he comes through to your bedroom.

“nick or matt’s bed wasn’t good a enough?” you tease, watching him turn a little red as he shuffles into your room.

“i wanted to sleep in your bed,” he mumbles, beanie hanging low and covering his eyebrows, pajama pants hanging lower. he lifts the duvet and crawls in with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, “nd’ i wanted to sleep with you, not my stinky brothers.”

you laugh, stifling it against the blankets “m glad you’d rather snug with me,”

“you kidding? you’re the best snugger around.”

“i’d say,” you hum, tugging his beanie off and tossing it somewhere on your floor.

he gives you a squeeze before reaching over to turn you so you’re facing him, “thanks for letting me come over,” he mutters, beaming in the low light. he looks so pretty like this, grinning down at you, illuminated by the soft glow of your lamp. he reaches up slightly and brushes your hair from your face.

you have a small moment of realization; he’s admiring you the same way you’re admiring him. you think your heart grows in size, gratitude making it swell up.

“thanks for comin’,” you whisper back, leaning up so your noses touch.

chris closes the gap, giving you a gentle kiss before pulling back and kissing your forehead too.

“night,” he tucks you against him, keeping you close, “i love you,” it’s sweet, how his tone changes. it’s tired now, chalked full of sleep and you can’t help but think it’s because he’s with you now, and that’s what puts him at ease enough to finally relax.

“i love you too,” you whisper into the barely-there space between you, watching as his eyes close and his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks.

you can’t help yourself, leaning forward just enough to kiss him there too.

.

.

.

.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @grimholic @tworosesblackthorn @mattscoquette @dazednmatthews @pinkishpearls

[nvuy]

to invoke perjury (and to love no one else) — sunday

summary. an old telltale whisper of a confession leaves sunday defenceless, and all the more paranoid of your loyalty to him.

notes. omg this is so epic i say as i hold up this work that nobody asked for. i finally finished the penacony tb quest everybody clap it up for me. my sunday obsession is so so bad somebody save me from the trenches.

warnings. mdni. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is (unsurprisingly) very controlling, sunday is also tremendously paranoid of everything, yandere themes, he makes you cry, sunday uses that weird lying curse on you, but worry not he does love you. i think. let me know if ive missed anything!

“You are breaking my heart.”

You glanced up from the model of the city, growing tired of picking at the corner of one of the buildings. A nervous habit, if you will. When Sunday noticed the damage later, he’d scold you for it.

For now, his eyes were elsewhere. He, too, was staring down at the miniature pinball machine, spinning it with a gloved finger.

You fidgeted, uncertain. “What?”

“You’re lying to me,” Sunday accused. His tone was soft.

Your hands pressed to the sides of the table. “I haven’t lied to you.”

“Not recently, no,” he agreed. He agreed, and you almost sprang from your seat. “But you have. And you still are.”

To that, you gripped the edge of the table tighter. Uncertainty wrought heavy in your bones like lead.

It suddenly felt cold. As if he’d slid ice along your spine. A chill wracked through you. You realised the feeling was his gaze.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off you.

But he was still slowly twisting the pinball machine around and around. He then sighed.

And then he leaned back and traced a finger along the edge of the table, not at all mindful of the small animated figurines occupying the city.

He gave one of their heads a small push, and the small figure’s body sank into the floor.

You took it as a warning.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

Of course you did.

It was a swirl of colour and muted hushed whispers now, but you could recall taking his hand, promising him the world, and kissing along his fingers to the swell of his wrist.

You nodded meekly.

Sunday hummed, clearly lost in thought. “I never forgot what you said to me.” Oh, you knew that look. That distant, faraway look. Like he’s trapping himself in his own head again. He was good at that. Acting, pretending. Putting on a show. “I’d never felt the same again.”

He was still tracing the edge of the table.

There was a small grin on his face.

Such a pleasant expression, paired with that a gorgeous light-hearted tone. His voice sounded like a lullaby echoing in the back of your mind.

His halo was glowing in the light.

“You said to me you’d be my everything. You offered a piece of your very own soul to me.” He gloved finger flitted from the polished wood, and then stopped short of your hand resting on the table. “You have such a lovely heart.”

The muscle raced in your chest.

You weren’t sure if it was out of flattery or fear. You weren’t able to tell the difference anymore.

“Such a shame you continue to spit poison at me. I used to love talking to you.” His gloved finger followed the curvature of your knuckles. “You’ve changed. You’re so different from when I met you.”

Your hands curled into fists as he traced the bone-white colour as you squeezed. Your nails dug into your palms.

He’d changed, too. He’s different too. He’s more watchful now. He barely makes time for himself anymore. He’s always either working or watching you like a hawk.

It’s unnerving. The unsettling brush of his lashes against your skin, and that unbreaking stare.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” was all you said. “I haven’t changed at all.”

Sunday hummed. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” You found the courage to glance up at him. That same unbreaking stare. When you met his gaze, he smiled. “I still care about you.”

“But, you don’t.” There was a light hearted ring in his voice.

You stopped. “What?”

“You don’t love me anymore.”

And there it was.

He was paranoid. He always had been, since the day you shedded a glove from his hand to kiss the skin wrapped around bone white knuckles. He’d been so busy pressing his nails into his palm, so preoccupied in what you were doing, why you were doing this, what you gained from it.

He’s paranoid now. He’s never stopped. He’s always been anxious. He’s always been overthinking your every move like you’re an opponent in a game of chess; always on his toes, always watching, either with his own eyes that more often than not, glared daggers into you, or through the nightingales that swarmed the mansion.

You were shaking. You tried to stop yourself.

He noticed. “You’re upset.”

“Of course, I’m upset.” Your nails dug into the underside of the table. You felt them strain as your jaw clenched.

“Is it wrong to think you’re dishonest?”

“Yes,” you answered. “Yes, it’s wrong. You’re wrong.”

“Perhaps I am, then, for falling in love with a liar.” His fingers chased up your arm slowly. “I always valued honesty above all. How rich.”

“But I’m–” You didn’t even know how to defend yourself.

Instead, you fell completely silent, face burning in humiliation.

The scent of him was intoxicating. Orange blossoms and sandalwood. You had memorised the scents of his favourite fragrances, the shampoo he used, down to his toothpaste. You knew all of it. The way he brushed his hair, the temperature of the water he preferred for his baths, to the chronological order of steps on how he got ready in the morning.

It was all order; a set of stagnant unchanging steps. Like he was following a recipe to its very word.

He was particular.

And he hated change.

He took your silence as an invitation to pry further. “You were so enchanting that night.” He was telling the truth. You could read it on his expression–and his expression. That same expression he held on that night you offered him your heart to take. “And I know now, that you are most enchanting when you lie.”

“What’s–” You interlocked your fingers. His own were tracing the bone of your shoulder now. “What have I done? Why’re you–”

“You, of all people, must understand my uncertainty,” he spoke. He sounded as if you were supposed to know the answer.

Maybe there was no answer at all. No spark to his flame. He’s just doing all of this, because he can. Because he’s paranoid, and he’s hiding his churning stomach and the anxiety that fills his throat with this stage play he’s put on.

“You willingly took in a perfect home, much different from where you came from.” He gestured to the room around him. Pillars that intricately curled into the ceiling, floor polished, the scaled model of Penacony tended to and dusted, and the walls featuring thousands of commissioned pieces from artists all over the galaxy. “No sorrows, no disorder, no dishonesty. Certainly not here.

His eyes shift to you again. “And certainly not now.”

You shrank down into your seat.

“And, under the light of the Harmony–” He raises his hands to gesture to the ceiling, as if THEY’RE watching over him. “–All wickedness is revealed. That is precisely why you're so radiant in the sunlight.”

What the fuck is he talking about?

He must have noticed your expression. You must have appeared distressed. Fidgeting nervously, your blood running cold beneath your skin.

Perhaps your apprehension, the clear anxiousness drawn over your face, egged him further.

He did not dwell on it. Instead, he simply narrowed his eyes. “It is as I suspected.” When your eyebrows raised in surprise, he continued, “you’ve been lying.”

“You don’t trust me anymore?” You frantically wiped a stray tear that had fallen. You hoped he didn’t notice the waver in your tone.

Sunday merely nodded, blinking slowly. “You understand now.”

You stared at the floor. His eyes were burning into your skull.

Your brows knitted together.

A bell tolled nearby.

You don’t recall any sort of church close by.

“I cannot excuse, nor house, nor bed, a liar. It is beyond THEIR natural order. Liars have no place in an assimilated, perfect world.”

You looked elsewhere. You picked nervously at the hem of your shirt, suddenly feeling like you were drowning in hot water.

Your nose filled and clogged with a horrible earthy scent much unlike his shampoo. This was different, real and raw, like there was somebody else in the room.

When you looked around, there was nobody else.

Just the two of you.

“Stand up,” he ordered softly.

You did so, hesitantly, still shaking.

You must have looked pathetic.

Sunday offered you his hand.

Desperate, you took it, and kissed his knuckles.

He let out a faint laugh. “That will not work. Not this time, I’m afraid.” He looked up towards the ceiling for a brief moment, before he closed his eyes. “O Triple-Faced Soul, let fire brand flesh and bone with the mark of honesty–”

Something was wrong, and his face was changing.

For a moment, you saw tracks like golden water flow down his cheeks.

His halo was glowing, but there was something else behind his head. A clouded and muted swirl of colours, mismatched and ever changing.

You tried to pull your hand from his grip, but there was a weight pressed to your limbs.

“–And ensure that every vow is etched in the fervour of undeniable truth.”

“What’re you–” He let go of your hand and you stumbled. The bell toll was only just louder by a margin, and there was now a searing heat in your head. “What’re you doing?!”

Your hands desperately rested on his shoulders, trying to keep yourself upright.

You tried again to wrench yourself from his touch. It was sickening how gentle he was being.

Slowly, he guided you back to the love seat, tutting and scolding you as you fought in his hold. How could somebody so horrible be so gentle?

You felt the urge to throw up all over his clothes. Sweat beaded down your neck and pooled at your collarbone like a necklace.

“What did you do to me?” You were panicking. “What have you done?” You pressed the pads of your fingers to your temples to try and soothe the burning. “You cursed me?”

“I’ve blessed you,” he whispered. “This way, you will be rectified.”

Something was whispering to you. Almost inaudible, indiscernible, like the banging of a death knell in your ears.

What is it? What is that?

You looked to him for an answer, but words caught heavy on your tongue like lead.

“All you have to do is tell the truth.”

You shook your head. “I’m not speaking to you like this,” you tried. Your voice came out strained.

“You don’t have a choice,” he snapped. “You are not in control.”

“You’ll hurt me for the sake of your precious pride?” Your hands coiled into fists at your sides. Thank the Lords he’d seated you, for you were sure you would’ve fallen over by now. Your feet had since gone numb.

The whispering was right in your ear. When you turned your head to confront the noise, there was nothing there.

“It will not hurt if you tell the truth,” Sunday explained gently. “I hope that doesn’t come as a challenge to you.”

Get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head–

“I’m not answering anything you ask,” you forced out through gritted teeth.

Sunday only let out a breathy, exasperated sigh. “Then don’t. We’ll see what happens to you.”

You said nothing.

Instead, you tried to stand up to leave. Screw this curse he’s put on your head because he’s retreated into his own insecurities. He wasn’t winning this time.

You were so sick of this paranoia.

When you stood, a dizziness hit you like a wave. You desperately reached for anything, and your hands found his. He did not guide you back down into the seat, but his gloved hands remained encased in yours.

Such a perfect, warm fit.

Sunday offered you a gentle, yet peculiar smile.

“Question: have you ever lied to me?”

You didn’t answer.

Your flesh felt as though it was set alight. As if the halovian had personally poured gasoline over you and held a match to the tip of your nose and watched you burn alive.

The whispering was loud. The voices was indiscernible. You couldn’t place a finger to its source, nor a face, nor a name. Three voices, all repeating the same thing. You could tell from its tone, its pitch modulation, and yet you couldn’t understand what was being spoken.

It didn’t sound like any language you knew.

“Answer the question, angel.”

Hot tears bubbled over your lashes.

“Yes.” You fought to keep the word lodged in the back of your throat, but when you forced it out, the lava on your tongue cooled significantly. The whispers grew softer.

He noticed the look of relief cross over your face. “See?” A gloved hand came down to gently touch the crown of your head. “Just answer truthfully, and it will all be okay.”

Then, the white material of his gloves came forward to swipe gently at the tears below your eyes. Salt soaked the soft cotton.

Your hand reached up shakily to hold onto his wrist.

“Did you lie to me the night we met?”

The swirls of colour around his halo were returning.

Your thumb traced the ring on his finger. Gold, with a blue gem on its interior.

Instead of answering, you tried to press your lips to his.

Sunday stopped you, though it took restraint. He held your face still, lips just barely brushing against your own. He tasted salt. Salt and sweet lies, and Aeons above was it addicting.

He sighed. “Don’t tempt me.” He watched you flinch, and rang a simple reminder, “answer.”

“Yes,” you said.

As he expected.

You were so beautiful like this. Raw, and honest.

His heart squeezed with disgust. “Did you lie when you said you loved me?”

Frantically, you shook your head. “No.”

He smiled.

“Did you lie when you said you’d die for me?” He tilted his head.

Your lips pressed together. Your fingers curled tight in the loose curls of his hair. Your nails brushed softly against his feathers.

Your chest heaved when he finally sat beside you on the couch. His skin was so warm pressed against yours, and the contact made you feel dizzy.

“Yes,” you responded.

He accepted it. His finger softly petted your cheek.

Oh, you were crying.

You felt so pathetic and weak, and bubbled words caught in your throat like fish on a hook. You felt trapped, and the colours behind his head were growing more vibrant, brighter, accompanying and drowning out that awful halo.

He’s horrible. He’s so horrible.

You wanted to say it, you wanted to tell him that you needed him to leave. You needed him gone.

He beat you to it. “Do you hate me?”

You heaved a sob. “No.” And you didn’t. You didn’t hate him, despite his obsessive control and unjustified possessiveness. His hubris, and his inability to see past his own paranoia and fear. “Please stop.”

You pressed your lips to the small, poniard-shaped jewel on his chest.

Your sign of devotion did not deter him, though, he was sure you would always have some sort of effect on him.

“It shouldn’t hurt if you tell the truth,” Sunday reminded you. There was a teasing lilt to his voice.

“I don’t hate you,” you repeated, this time as firmly as you could—albeit your voice shook with fervour. “I never hated you.”

“I’m relieved.” His hand petted your hair. “So, so relieved.”

You buried your face into his shoulder and sobbed.

You prayed it was over. You prayed and prayed for the voices to dissipate from your mind. You tried to will them away, to squeeze your eyes shut and beg for the whispers to fade into the background of white noise and static.

The kaleidoscope of colours crept below your eyelids.

Sunday held you securely, and as warm as he was, and as firm and yet so gently his arms sat snugly against you, you felt so cold. So cold and alone and so afraid.

He could fix that.

He hadn’t said a word for a moment.

The burning feeling of your skin returned, and you let out another drawn out noise of distress.

He shushed you. “One final question.”

You shook your head.

Your hands were trembling, fingers weakly pressing to your temples to rid the pounding that made your stomach churn. Your vision was swamped in swirls and patterns of colours you couldn’t put a name to.

His face, too, warped into something evil.

This wasn’t the man whose knuckles you’d kissed, whose wings gently fluttered against your skin, who’d plucked a small feather from them and handed it to you as a symbol of his devotion.

His halo dimmed for a moment.

You felt his lips brush against your ear and the tickle of a feather.

“Do you still love me?”

[smileysuh]

ghost house

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You stand up, going to inspect the out-of-place panties lying next to your hamper. When you bend down, you see a translucent sort of outline, and it’s not your own spunk marring the fabric. It’s undoubtedly ghost cum, which is the oddest thing to realize- and you’re pretty sure it’s fresh. Your skin tingles at the notion. Somewhere in this house, Hyuck is coming down from a recent orgasm that he’d clearly achieved by using your panties. You’re a witch, but this is sinful, even for you.

tw/cw. Voyeurism, unprotected sex with a ghost, Hyuck is a repressed perv, he’s not a virgin but he’s not experienced either, pantie sniffer Hyuck, Hyuck watching y/n masturbate using ghost powers, Hyuck using y/n’s panties to cum in, weird ghost cum, Hyuck is a switch but leans more submissive at parts, self asphyxiation/choking, y/n punishes Hyuck for being a naughty ghostie, making Hyuck watch her masturbate without touching himself, fingering, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk/addict hyuck, overstimulation, hair pulling, hyuck cums and y/n decides to keep riding him, hyuck likes to be choked, dirty talk, hyuck has a good boy kink, praise kink, degradation/humiliation, finger sucking, face riding, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (Haechan’s) ghostie, baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 8.3k

🍭 aus. ghost!hyuck, witch!reader, supernatural au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've never written Hyuck this subby/switchy, but I think it worked, he still has his dom moments, but this man is a near virgin, little, repressed for 20 years ghost shit head who wants to be told he's a good boy, and I'm not even mad about it

Prologue:

“It’s a little unusual for prospective tenants to bring a pet along,” the shy man showing you the house murmurs, watching the way your cat follows you through the halls of the old building.

“Well, it’s important that Pluto likes it here,” you muse, casting your gaze down to your little dark shadow as he darts here and there, chasing orbs and specks of dust that illuminate in the rays of sun streaming through the murky windows. “How long has it been since you had a renter?”

“Too long,” Mark Lee sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “In all honesty, I’m sure you know the reputation this place has.”

“It’s the Ghost House,” you respond, turning to stare at the relative of a man who’d lost his life in this location twenty or so years ago. 

“My family hasn’t even tried to rent it out in recent years, but then you found me on Facebook and asked for a showing, I figured, what could it hurt?”

“I guess you don’t believe that this place is haunted?” you inquire, studying the tired, mundane man while Pluto curls around your feet.

“I haven’t spent enough time here to decide what I think,” Mark admits. “My family needs income, and if you’re willing to rent this place out, for half of what you could find anywhere else, we’d love for you to take it. Ghosts, or no ghosts.”

“I’m betting on the ghost aspect,” you tease, looking down at Pluto and following his gaze to a shadowy form at the end of the hall. “I’ll take it.”

One

You’ve been in your new Ghost House for over a month, and in that time, Hyuck has realized you’re no ordinary tenant.

It had started with the way your cat reacted to him, following him around, not scared in the slightest. And then, Hyuck had noticed the way you’d tracked your black cat Pluto with your own eyes, using the animal to try to focus in on Hyuck himself.

At first, he’d thought you were some sort of clairvoyant or wanna-be ghost hunter, but then, you’d pulled out a Grimoire and a cauldron and Hyuck had realized you were more along the lines of a witch. 

When you’d first moved in, Hyuck had relished the idea of haunting you out of the house, but now he finds himself to be the one that’s haunted.

He can’t get a moment's peace without your cat following him all over the place, and where your cat goes, you quickly follow. Hyuck has taken to going to the attic, where the door can’t be pushed open by a determined kitty. He fucking hates the attic.

He’s sitting amidst some cobwebs, contemplating how badly he’d fucked up in life to get to this situation, when the attic door creaks on its hinges.

Your head pops through the hole. Your gaze shifts around, and Hyuck could swear your irises look exceptionally feline-esque when they land on him. “Why are you hiding?”

You can’t actually be talking to him. You can’t actually be seeing him- it shouldn’t be possible, and yet, here it is, happening.

“Come now, Donghyuck, are you skulking?”

“Fuck off,” he mutters.

“Is that any way to speak to a witch who’s here to help you?” you laugh.

You’d definitely heard him, and the realization makes a cold shiver run up his spine. Hyuck stands up, approaching you. He waits for you to flinch or pull away, but you don’t, you simply watch him until he’s a few feet away.

“How are you seeing me right now?” he asks.

“I’ve been testing out spells with personal objects of yours that I’ve stumbled upon in the house, nothing works quite like a photo, I’ve found,” you explain. “It’s good to finally see you. I’d hoped to meet you properly within the first week, but it’s been a whole month now of us living together, which feels awfully rude of me.”

“What’s rude is your stupid cat following me around everywhere.” When Hyuck takes a peek down the attic entry manhole, he finds your feline friend at the foot of the ladder, looking up at him with inquisitive eyes.

“Pluto is just doing his job, he was raised to see spirits. The Roman God of the Dead is his namesake after all.”

“The Roman God of the Dead?” Hyuck’s nose scrunches up in distaste. He flunked grade twelve, not that Roman deities were on the learning agenda.

“Forget about it, would you like to come down and talk with me for a while? Now that I can see you and communicate, I think we should have a chat.” You study him carefully. “Although, I will note that until I find a better spell, I’ll only be able to see you like this until your photo stops burning, which could be ten minutes or twenty.”

The pathological demand avoidance in Hyuck makes him want to refuse you, but at the same time, he hasn’t spoken to anyone in over twenty years, not since that night when everything had gone so wrong- 

It helps that you’re a cute girl.

With a sigh, Hyuck agrees, following you down to the living room where he finds a makeshift alter, his picture in the center of it, its edges charred. The space smells like some sort of incense, Hyuck can’t pin it, and for the first time in twenty years, Hyuck actually feels something akin to fear.

As the Ghost of the House, Hyuck has always been the one with the power. He’s been the one who scared off the first few tenants with knocks late at night, phone calls in the early hours, and even wearing a sheet to scare off the children young enough to be susceptible to seeing him.

But in this situation, sitting on the nicest chair in the room, your cat lounging on your lap, Hyuck realizes that the power of a ghost is no match to that of a witch. You look like a Goddess, or a queen- energy radiating off of you now that you’re near your alter, and it makes Hyuck’s skin tingle.

“So?” Hyuck asks after sitting in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages.

“So?” you echo, quirking a brow.

“Why are you here?” he clarifies with a huff of frustration. “Why are you trying so hard to communicate with me?”

“I’m mostly here because the rent is less than half of what I could get anywhere else, and it’s a whole house, so that felt like a no-brainer in this economy,” you laugh. “Although, seeing as you’ve been dead for over twenty years, I’m not going to give you a lesson on rent increase and the cost of living in this day and age. As a witch, I thought this would be a very interesting house to live in, and I’ve been trying to communicate with you, because the way I see it, you’re practically my roommate. We share this house, and I’d like for things to go smoothly.”

“Smoothly,” Hyuck lets out a laugh.

“If you’d rather I exhume your remains and send you to Hell, that can be arranged too.” 

Hyuck feels his throat go dry. 

“That’s what I thought,” you grin. “So what do you say, roommates?”

“Fine. But I’m tired of the attic.”

“You put yourself there,” you point out.

“Look, you be nice to me, I be nice to you,” Hyuck suggests. “Fair?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Ghost boy.”

Two 

Living with you actually isn’t so bad. Hyuck’s gotten used to Pluto following him around, but you generally keep to yourself, and he appreciates that trait.

Sure, you get up to witch mojo, and the house smells like all sorts of herbs and shit half the time, but Hyuck has taken to living mostly in the room that used to be his own. He prefers the south-facing space to the dark attic, and although life is boring most of the time, it’s still better than whatever afterlife Hyuck could expect as a man who accidentally took his own life at the ripe age of twenty-three.

Sometimes he likes to come see what you’re up to. He’s taken to watching you cook breakfast and dinner for yourself. You play music he’s never heard before, and the way you shake your hips always has his heart racing.

Pluto notifies you of his presence, but without an alter burning, he’s pretty sure you can only see his outline at best. You clearly don’t mind an audience, and Hyuck spends hours every week simply enjoying you.

It’s interesting to have a roommate that acknowledges him, a roommate that keeps the peace. But at the same time, part of Hyuck misses his old poltergeist ways.

You’ve reformed him. He’s a reformed ghost now, and Hyuck isn’t quite sure what to make of this peaceful living arrangement. It’s much more peaceful than things had been when he’d been alive.

He’d never had a girlfriend. Never had someone to create a sense of belonging, and somehow, he finds that much-needed peace with you. He wonders what life could have been like if he hadn’t taken those drugs that fateful night, if he hadn’t been so lonely that it hurt everywhere, if he hadn’t tried to dull the ache with pills.

“Come on, Donghyuck,” your voice draws him out of his pining thoughts, and you turn from the soup you’re making to stare in his general direction. “I can see your outline, dance with me. You always just stand there and stare, be a good Ghostie Boy, and shake your ass a little.”

Your words make Hyuck’s skin heat. He’s a ghost for Christ's sake, you can't go around objectifying him like this-

“Just a lil swivel,” you grin, showing him with your own hips.

Fuck. You’re hot. You’re so fucking hot, and Hyuck is tired of pretending you’re not. 

He begins to shimmy, and he’s rewarded by a melodic giggle that escapes you and fills the kitchen. “That’s it,” you encourage him. “I know you’re not used to this kind of music, but it’s fun!”

Hyuck has to admit that he’s been enjoying the crash course in new media you’ve been giving him. From music to movies to books he haphazardly reads over your shoulders- this new age is something else, and it’s full of uncensored raunchy sex that makes him hornier than he’d ever been when he was alive.

The music you’re listening to is full of explicit lyrics, lyrics about eating pussy, and a pretty girl riding a man’s face- it’s been driving him wild, and in the late night hours, when you’re peacefully asleep one room over, Hyuck hasn’t been able to help himself.

He’s been stroking himself to the thought of you lately. He’s wondered what you’d taste like, what your body would feel like under his hands- He wonders what faces you’d make, the sounds-

This life is a little bit of Heaven, but a little bit of Hell too. 

He can’t touch you, can’t taste you, can’t fuck you the way he’s been wanting to-

Leave it to him to fall in love with a sexy witch and add to his own torment. 

Three 

Hyuck can hear your whimpers through the wall. The sound makes his entire body tingle, and before he can stop himself, he’s shrugging his jeans down and wrapping his hand around his aching cock.

Your sex drive hasn’t been as… intense as his, in fact, he’s not sure if you’ve ever touched yourself since you moved in. Or maybe, you’ve just been quiet, it’s hard to tell.

When you’re in your room, Hyuck gives you privacy. Pluto would probably alert you to his presence if he ever did try to get a look at you naked, and Hyuck doesn’t want to risk your witchy wrath.

But tonight? Fuck, hearing your sounds makes him want to risk everything.

Going to Hell would be worth it for a look at your form.

The ghost shuffles closer to the wall, taking deep breaths as he strokes his aching cock. 

One peak won’t hurt, will it?

Hyuck doesn’t often walk through walls or make use of his ghostly powers, but it’s simple enough for him to push his head through the wall. He just goes as far as his face, keeping himself half-suspended in the barrier between rooms.

Your space is dark aside from a few candles burning, and it takes Hyuck a moment for his eyes to adjust. His gaze lands on you, tangled amidst your bedsheets.

You’re naked, head dipped back against the pillows, one hand between your thighs while the other pinches at your nipples.

Fuck, Hyuck almost busts then and there. He has to stop the motions on his cock, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Pluto is nowhere to be seen, and with your eyes closed, the room mostly dark, Hyuck doubts you’d see his outline even if you did look directly at the one space along your wall that he’s watching from.

This is the perfect scenario for him, and he licks his lips as he watches the way you tease your clit, letting out soft whimpers.

You’re wet, Hyuck can see how wet you are, and it makes his mouth water with need. His cock throbs as he begins to slowly stroke it again, teasing his thumb along the tip.

The way you’re pinching at your nipples is making the ghost want to mark you up with his teeth. He wants to bury his face in your chest and lick you, sucking your perky-looking buds until you’re begging for him-

A movement of your other hand captures his attention, and Hyuck watches as you slide one finger into your core, releasing a moan that has his entire body shaking.

One digit quickly becomes two, and as you stroke your inner walls, the sound of your wet heat becomes audible to the fly on the wall, who pumps his shaft even harder. 

Your hips begin to wiggle against your own touch, and Hyuck wonders how good you’d look on top of him, writhing against his cock-

You release your breast in favor of playing with your clit, both hands now between your beautiful thighs. From the sounds escaping you, Hyuck thinks you’re close, and his entire body aches. He tries to slow himself down, he wants to match your speed, wants to reach that climax with you-

Something brushes by Hyuck’s leg and he jumps, tearing himself out of your room to look down at the cat who’s appeared by his foot. “Fuck, not now, Pluto,” he hisses.

Pluto purs in response, and with an exasperated sigh, Hyuck decides to ignore your cat. Fuck it, he needs to cum, and he needs to be watching you cum-

Pushing his face back into your room, Hyuck manages to catch you just in time to see your back arch. A soft gasp of contentment leaves your lips, your hands shaking as your orgasm rushes over you-

Hyuck can’t help himself, his own body simply reacts, his cock throbbing intensely as his own release hits him. He bites down on his lip, pumping his shaft with his eyes glued to your form.

You ride out your orgasms together, and yet, apart. 

You’re a scary witch, but you’re none the wiser about the ghost voyeur committing every one of your movements to memory. 

Finally, Hyuck can’t take the sensation anymore, and he stops, pulling his head out of your room. He’s no stranger to ghost cum, it’s this odd, translucent goo-

When he looks down after pulling up his pants, Hyuck realizes he’s sprayed the wall, and narrowly missed Pluto, but the cat is looking at his spunk as if he can see it-

Hyuck’s never had an animal in the house before. He knows that usually, his ghost jizz disappears after a while, but if the cat were to try to touch it-

“Pluto, no!” Hyuck whispers, trying to block the animal with his hands.

The cat has brushed by Hyuck before, so Hyuck’s pretty sure the cat won’t go through his hands-

Instead, Pluto tries to go around Hyuck’s hands, and the ghost’s heart lurches in his cold chest.

“Fuck, stop!” he says, voice getting louder. 

The cat meows obnoxiously, and Hyuck hears a sound in your room-

Hyuck doesn’t have time for this, he’s not about to get caught one room over after you’ve just orgasmed. The ghost does the only thing he can think of doing, he jumps down to the ground to hide behind the bed. 

Luckily, Pluto seems more interested in him than his ghost cum on the wall, and begins to follow. The bedroom door is pushed open, drawing Pluto’s attention from following Hyuck.

“Pluto?” you call. “What are you doing in here?”

Hyuck can feel his heart in his throat, and he cowers further under the bed, afraid that if you see any of his shadowy figure, you’ll exorcize him or something. 

There’s a few moments of tight tension, and then Pluto pads away from Hyuck to join you at the door.

“Silly kitty,” you coo, picking up your pet. “Let’s go make you some dinner.”

The door closes behind you and Hyuck lets out a deep breath.

That had been much too close for him.

Four 

It’s been about a week since Hyuck watched you finger fuck yourself to completion, and he’s doing his best to avoid you. He gets a half-chub every time he looks at you for Christ’s sake, and while part of him feels justified in his voyeurism - he is a ghost after all - another part of him feels dirty about it. 

Hyuck feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders every time you leave the house, and today, he watches you get into your car and drive off before he heads to your room. He’s been curious about a few things, but you hardly ever leave the property, so he hasn’t had the time and the balls to follow his wishes until now.

Your bedroom door is closed, and it’s as easy as stepping through it for Hyuck to invade your space.

He tries to calm himself, tries to take his time looking at items you’ve collected. There’s a stack of books that thrum with power, he stays away from them. Jewels and crystals litter a vanity table also covered in various perfume bottles, and Hyuck bends down to smell one, overcome by the scent of florals that always follows you through the house. Lastly, Hyuck goes over to the laundry hamper. 

The ghost is overjoyed by what greets him. Sitting on top of a pile of sweaters, is a lacy thong. Hyuck sinks to his knees, bending over the hamper and bringing his nose as close to the panties as possible. He takes a deep breath, eyes closing as the scent overwhelms him: this is so much better than florals.

Now he really feels dirty, but there’s something so freeing in it. He’s a dirty little ghostie, and Hyuck is beginning to revel in it. 

He’s been a spirit for so many years, and he’s gotten adept at poltergeist-type activity. Sure, he’s usually only ever used it to throw books around, or open cupboards, or… you know, wear bedsheets to scare the shit out of the kids who show up and trespass around Halloween, but… grabbing a pair of panties shouldn’t be that hard. 

With a shaky hand, Hyuck reaches into the hamper. He focuses his energy to his fingertips, and after a deep breath, when he touches your panties, he can feel the lace. Hyuck lifts the fabric out of the hamper, collapsing onto his knees next to it and shimmying his pants down.

Then, he wraps his panty-clad hand around his cock, throwing his head back to let out a sigh of relief. There’s something so sexy about jacking off using your underwear as friction- there’s a small, juicy spot along the fabric, and Hyuck’s majorly tempted to lick at it, but he feels like that’s a line he shouldn’t cross. 

Instead, he pumps his cock harder, letting out soft whimpers. Hyuck’s head lolls forward again, chin tucked down to his chest. His eyes open so he can stare at your cute panties as he strokes himself off with them, and the sight alone has his dick twitching. 

Hyuck grits his teeth, his abdominal muscles flexing with effort. He can’t help but rut toward his hand now, and each stroke of your lacey thong against his aching cock has him closer and closer-

There’s a sound downstairs, and it makes Hyuck’s heart leap in his chest. You’re home again already?

He tightens his grip on his length, determined to cum before he gets caught. He can’t stop now, not when he’s so close to a much-needed release- 

As the sound of you coming up the stairs limits his time more and more, the idea of getting caught actually adds to Hyuck’s pleasure. Before he knows what he’s doing, one of Hyuck’s hands is raising to his throat. He throws his head back, applying just a bit of pressure- it’s enough to have him grunting, the cord in his stomach snapping as his orgasm takes over.

Waves of pleasure wash through his entire body, his grip tightening on his throat and making it all the more intense. He can feel his spunk shooting onto your panties, which he holds over his tip as he pumps his aching cock, getting out every last drop-

He can hear you humming as you come down the hall, and in Hyuck’s post-orgasmic haze, he doesn’t have time to think. He simply drops your panties on the floor and stumbles to his feet, stepping through the wall just as your door opens.

He collapses again in the other room, pulling up his pants and trying to catch his breath.

Five 

It had been a quick run to get cat food for Pluto, and when you arrive back at your room, you hardly even notice that something is out of place. First, you open your blinds, peaking out at the evening setting sun. Then you go to sit on your bed to take off your socks, as you’re about to toss them to your hamper, you notice something on the floor.

It’s a pair of your lacy panties, and you’re a hundred percent sure they hadn’t been on the floor when you’d left.

With your bedroom door closed, Pluto couldn’t have gotten into your things, which leaves one culprit.

Hyuck.

You’ve suspected the ghost has had a growing crush on you for a while, after all, he is a man who’s been alone in this house for years, but this is your first real evidence of it.

You stand up, going to inspect the out-of-place panties lying next to your hamper. When you bend down, you see a translucent sort of outline, and it’s not your own spunk marring the fabric.

It’s undoubtedly ghost cum, which is the oddest thing to realize- and you’re pretty sure it’s fresh.

Your skin tingles at the notion. Somewhere in this house, Hyuck is coming down from a recent orgasm that he’d clearly achieved by using your panties.

You’re a witch, but this is sinful, even for you.

For a moment, you simply stare at your panties, and then, you decide to do something about it. Going to your Grimoire, you open to a page bookmarked by multiple photos. They’re pictures of Hyuck that you’d found in the attic. You’d saved them for a rainy day when you’d need to contact him with a full-body apparition again, and it looks like today is the day.

Grabbing the largest one, you take the photo and your Grimoire down to the alter in the living room. While you have an alter of sorts in your bedroom, the one powered by the direct sun on your table by the south-facing window is the most appropriate for something like this.

You make quick work of a spell to bind the ghost to the waking world, and with a last few sprinkles of spices and some dried herbs, you place the photo in the center, using a lighter along the bottom edge.

“Hyuck?” you call, turning toward the room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

You hear someone whisper, “Fuck,” and you turn to see Hyuck scampering toward the staircase. 

“Are you seriously going to make me chase you?”

“Don’t exorcize me!” he screams, taking the stairs two at a time.

His words make you laugh. “I have a different type of exercise planned,” you retort, but it doesn’t do anything to slow him down. “Seriously, Hyuck, calm down!”

You make it to the second level, and you know where he’s snuck into. He may have closed the door quietly, but you’ve lived with the ghost long enough to know which room he’s staked a claim over.

Taking an amused breath, you knock gently. “Hyuck,” you sing-song, “I’m not mad. Just let me in.”

“You’re gonna exorcize me.”

You sigh again. “Hyuck, open this door, right now.”

You hate to use your dommy-mommy voice on him, but he’s trying your patience, and you only have as long as it takes for his photo to burn, which, due to your magic, probably gives you about half an hour, give or take.

“If you do not open this door, I will open it for you, and your punishment will be worse,” you warn him.

A moment later, the door creaks open ajar, and you push it the rest of the way.

“I’m sorry,” Hyuck tells you, standing there with his shoulders hunched.

“For what?” you enquire, leaning on the frame and crossing your arms over your chest.

“For running.”

“And?” you prompt.

“For uh…” you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, bowing his head, “for uh… using your panties.” 

“Using them how?” You’re kind of enjoying watching him like this. He might have his own weird kinks, but this might just be one of your own.

“Well, you know…” his skin is turning pink.

“I don’t know. I want you to tell me what you did with them. Don’t leave out a single detail you bad ghost boy.”

Hyuck’s gaze lifts to meet yours, but he’s quick to look away again. “Well, I mean, I was just looking at them at first.”

“At first. And then what?”

“Well, I just wanted to touch them.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “I bet you wrapped them around your cock and jerked off with them, didn’t you?”

Hyuck’s ears have turned pink now, and when his hands go in front of his body, you realize he’s trying to hide a half-chub that’s growing in his pants.

The little freak is into this.

God, he’s endearing. 

“Admit it,” you instruct. “If you admit it, I’ll go easy on you.”

Hyuck takes a breath. “Yes, I used your panties to cum.”

You study the ghost.

“Good boy,” you say finally. His eyes lift to meet yours, his lips parting. “Come to my room.”

You don’t wait for him to respond, you simply turn and expect him to follow. When you get to your room, you collapse onto the bed. 

“Close the door,” you instruct next. “Be a good boy and light my candles for me too.” 

As he begins to follow through with your commands, you stretch, letting out a sigh from the feeling of your tight muscles. Then, you lift off your shirt, tossing it at Hyuck while his back is to you, his fingers fumbling with a lighter.

Hyuck freezes, then turns to look at you.

“Have you watched me before, dirty ghostie?” you ask, going to remove your pants next.

The way he swallows tells you everything you need to know.

“Well, you are a bad, naughty, dirty, little ghostie, aren’t you, Hyuck?” you grin, tossing your jeans at him.

Laying in your bra and panties, you watch him finish lighting your candles, then he comes to stand at the foot of the bed, clearly waiting on instruction. He’s trying to cover the front of his pants again, and it makes you laugh.

“Move your hands,” you tell him. “You know, honestly, I’m a little surprised at how easy it was for you to get hard again. You came, what? Ten minutes ago? Fifteen?”

He’s so bashful he can hardly answer, and it’s an adorable sight.

“Here are the rules,” you say, “I’m going to make myself cum. After that, I’ll let you make me cum. And if you can get through all of that teasing without touching yourself, if you can prove to me you’re a good ghostie who can follow instructions, I’ll fuck you. How does that sound?”

Hyuck’s gaze watches your hand slip between your thighs, your legs opening wider, and he unconsciously licks his lips. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay… mistress?”

You laugh at his attempt to please you. “I was looking for a thank you.”

“Right, yeah, thank you, I can follow instructions,” he fumbles to correct himself. 

“Then be a good boy and put your hands behind yourself. I don’t want you touching anything. Don’t want you covering anything either, got it?” Your words come out breathy as you begin to stroke your core through your panties. “I especially don’t want to see your hands all shaky, that’s just embarrassing, ghost boy.”

Why are you enjoying this so much? Why are you enjoying the degradation of a man who died over twenty years ago?

From Hyuck’s reactions it’s clear he’s never been spoken to like this. Sure, domination and submission were things back in the day, but there must be something about your specific 2020’s brand of degradation- 

Hyuck slots his hands behind his back, letting out a deep breath.

“Good boy,” you coo, pushing your panties to the side so you can touch your pussy directly. Teasing him like this has already made you extremely wet, and it’s easy for you to glide your digits up and down your soaked slit, drawing soft circles on your clit.

“Can you see from there, ghost boy?” you sigh, spreading your legs even wider.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“I don’t like Mistress or Ma’am,” you admit.

“I’m sorry.”

If you got him to call you Goddess you’d risk hubris, so instead, you tell him, “Call me princess.”

You’d considered ‘Angel’ as a term of endearment, but with the deities you pay tribute to, even that had felt like a step too far. No, Princess works- You feel like a royal girlie who’s having fun with a servant boy, abusing the power you hold over him, for mutual benefit. 

“Okay, princess,” Hyuck breathes, and you can tell from his reaction that he enjoys the feeling of the word on his tongue. 

You like the sound of it coming from him too, and you throw your head back, getting more comfortable against the pillows. You tease one of your fingers into your wet hole, stroking your sensitive inner walls. 

Hyuck lets out a shaky gasp, and you grin to yourself, keeping your eyes closed so you can enjoy the sensation. Although that doesn’t stop you from saying in a sing-song voice, “You better not be touching yourself, ghost boy.”

“I’m not, princess, I promise.” 

“Good ghostie,” you coo slipping another finger into your pussy. You open your eyes to look at him. His gaze is fixed on your core, and he’s got his bottom lip pinned between his teeth. “Is it a nice view?”

“The best view in the whole world,” Hyuck breathes, almost panting.

“Should I make myself cum so you can finally touch me?” 

“Fuck, yes please, fuck, yes-” Hyuck’s eyes meet yours, and you see the desperation, it’s practically throbbing off of him in waves. “Please, princess, I wanna watch you cum.”

“You’re being such a good ghostie for me,” you muse, pulling your fingers from your core and holding them out for him, “Come here, have a taste.”

Hyuck falls onto his knees on the foot of your mattress, grabbing your hand with both of his and drawing your digits to his mouth. He sucks on them, his eyes fixed on yours as his tongue licks and strokes your skin, cleaning up every drop of your juices.

“Now back to your spot,” you prompt, pulling your hand away. “The moment I cum, you can join.”

You watch him swallow thickly, and while he doesn’t talk back, Hyuck is clearly reluctant to get back to his feet, standing at the edge of the bed and watching you.

His hands go behind his back, and when he’s in proper form, you slowly slip your panties down your legs. Then, you throw them directly at him. They land on his shoulder, and Hyuck turns to look at them, breathing deeply.

He’s rock hard in his pants now, and the sight turns you on as you bring both hands to your core. You begin to finger yourself while you rub tight circles on your clit, your toes curling at the sensation. 

“Hyuck,” you whimper, arching your back, building the pressure deep in the pit of your abdomen. 

“Princess-” he echoes, sounding even more desperate than you are.

You open your eyes, staring directly at Hyuck as you work yourself closer and closer-

“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him. “Fuck, I’m almost there, almost there, baby-”

Hyuck releases a moan at the new pet name, and you can see him twitching. He’s doing his best to follow your instruction about not moving until you’ve cum, but you can see it’s getting harder and harder-

You let out a gasp, your orgasm slamming into you, and that’s when Hyuck finally pounces.

He wastes no time jumping onto the bed, burying his face between your legs while his hands grab at the flesh of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. His mouth devours your core as your orgasm surges through you, and each lick and suck has you crying out, muscles tensing as Hyuck intensifies your high.

Your fingers thread in his hair, and he groans when you tug on him, unrelenting in his task of eating you through your orgasm. The ghost is eating you like a man who’s been starved of pussy for twenty years, and you suppose that’s accurate, so can you really hold the whole pantie-sniffing thing against him?

You’re not sure how he does it, but one orgasm that you’d given yourself quickly becomes a second orgasm that Hyuck has coaxed out of you by sucking on your clit, and you gasp loudly as it slams into you, riding the tail end of the first high. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming-” you whimper, thighs tensing around Hyuck’s head-

He simply pushes them apart, tongue diving into your hole to stroke your walls as they spasm around him. Hyuck groans, and the feeling of the vibration on your clit has you whimpering even louder, your grip tightening in his hair. 

“Hyuck-” you moan, pushing at his head, “I’m done, that was two-”

“I want three,” he tells you, taking his mouth from your pussy so he can suck marks along your inner thighs. “Can I have three? I’ve been a good ghostie for you.”

“You can have three when you bury your cock inside of me,” you tell him with a laugh, your body still buzzing in the after-effects of two orgasms that had happened in quick succession.

“I want three now, and four when I’m fucking you stupid, princess.” 

Well, this is a switch-up. 

He’d been so subby before, but one taste of your pussy has him trying to be more dominant? Fuck it, you don’t even mind, the words that have just come out of his mouth are too hot to even handle, so you let out a small, whimpered, “Okay.” 

“Okay, what?” he prompts, teeth grazing your inner thigh.

“Make me cum one more time with your mouth before you fuck me.” 

Hyuck doesn’t waste any time swiping his tongue along your slit again. He flicks at your clit and your thighs shake around his head, your nails dragging softly against his scalp. 

Your hips begin to wiggle, and Hyuck looks up at you, holding out his tongue and staying still so you can grind against him. You toss your head back, closing your eyes as you ride his tongue, using him for your own pleasure.

Hyuck groans, tilting forward just enough for his nose to bump your clit, and your muscles clench at the stimulus. You’re sensitive after two orgasms, but fuck, Hyuck feels so good.

“I just want you to fuck me,” you confess, relaxing back against the bed again while Hyuck takes the cue to begin to lick your pussy. “Make me cum so you can fuck me.”

Hyuck practically growls in response, his lips suctioning around your clit. Your legs quiver around his head, thighs squishing in on him- this time, instead of pushing you away and spreading you open, Hyuck allows you to practically crush his skull, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, body beginning to shake as he focuses all his attention on your clit.

There’s no pushing the ghost away, no crushing his head with your thighs- he’s locked in on his target, and all you can do is take what he’s giving you. 

Your moans fill the space, your back arching as he sucks your clit closer and closer to another high-

Then, out of the blue, one of his hands snakes up to your throat. Hyuck adjusts so he can squeeze your neck, his tongue flicking at your clit, his breath hot against your skin-

The pressure on your throat makes your entire body freeze for a moment, mind short-circuiting- and when you’re able to think again, all you can think about is the pulsing between your thighs as your orgasm crashes into you like a bullet train.

You whimper, the sound obstructed in part by the hand still gripping your throat. Your own hands fly to Hyuck’s wrist, encouraging him to apply even more pressure as you begin to thrash under his touch. Your hips are bucking toward his face, your pussy throbbing like it’s never throbbed before- and there’s not even anything filling you.

Your clit feels amazing, but your poor inner walls have been neglected, you’re aching for something to throb around, aching for an intrusion in your sinfully wet hole-

“Hyuck, please,” you gasp, letting out a shuddery breath when he pulls his mouth from your core, looking up at you. “I need-”

He squeezes your throat tighter, cutting off your words. Then he begins to kiss up your body, finally making it to your lips. He stops just a millimeter away, looking down at you as he releases your neck. It’s as if - even after all of this - he’s asking for permission.

You throw your arms around the back of his throat, tugging him the final distance to your mouth. His tongue clashes against your own, and you can taste your pussy there. Your core throbs, and Hyuck begins to grind down against you, rolling his hips expertly.

“Fuck,” you groan, breaking the kiss so you can shove your hands between your bodies, pushing at his pants. 

Hyuck, meanwhile, begins to mark up your neck in love bites, his fingers slipping under your back so he can unclasp your bra and tear it off.

You’re naked for him now, and you make quick work of his pants, briefs, and shirt. You’re caught in a whirlwind of need, kisses, and touches. Finally, he’s slotting himself between your thighs again. This time, when he grinds against you, his bare cock glides past your clit, and your legs shake, your fingers clawing at him.

“Do it,” you encourage him, gasping as he kisses your throat. One of your hands snakes into his hair, massaging his scalp. “Fuck me.” 

Hyuck reaches between your bodies, grabbing the base of his cock. He begins to tease his head along your pussy lips and you both groan at the feeling. “Princess-” he moans.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I’m ready, I can take it. You’ve been such a good ghostie being patient for me and making me cum- it’s your turn. Use me, baby, fill me up.” 

He’s panting against your neck, and he pulls back to look down at you. You can tell there’s hesitancy, but a need too, and when you grab the nape of his neck to draw his lips to yours, you feel his body immediately relax.

He presses the tip of his cock to your tight hole, and as he kisses you, he begins to push into your pussy.

You groan at the feeling of him. For an average-sized man, his cock is no laughing matter. He’s thick, stretching out your inner walls with each inch that sinks into you. 

Your thighs quake around his hips, and Hyuck licks at your tongue, moaning and kissing you until his front is flush with your own.

Only then does he break the kiss, rubbing his forehead against yours. “Princess-”

“I know, baby, it feels good for me too,” you assure him.

He grabs at the pillow next to your head, squeezing it roughly while letting out a shuddery breath.

Your pussy is still throbbing, trying to accommodate his large size, and when he buries his face against your throat, beginning to thrust, your entire body lights up with pleasurable energy.

“Fuck,” you groan, closing your eyes and stroking his shoulders, “Just like that.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you harder and harder until your bed begins to rock against the wall with each rough motion from his hips. 

Hyuck continues his barrage on your throat, licking your sweet spot while you mewl into his ear, holding him tight. One of his hands sneaks up between your bodies, grabbing at your breast. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling it and panting against your skin.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, pussy throbbing around him, earning a deep groan.

“I don’t know if I can hold it,” he admits, pulling away to look down at you with beautiful chocolate eyes.

“Then don’t hold it,” you tell him. “Just don’t assume we’re done when you’re done.”

His gaze darkens, his plump lips parting in a silent question. Instead of saying anything else, you draw him in for a kiss, wrapping your legs tight around his hips. 

The hand that had been on your breast finds your free hand, fingers lacing as he presses you down into the mattress, fucking you even harder.

Each thrust has him hitting perfect spots, and the way he’s rolling your hips adds stimulus to your clit, which throbs with sensitivity.

The throaty moans escaping him are driving you mental, and the way his tongue strokes your own has you dizzy with lust.

Your other hand tangles in his pretty hair, tugging gently, dragging his mouth away from yours so you can begin to speckle his throat with kisses.

Hyuck lets out an absolutely sinful moan, and you realize he’s very sensitive in this area. It makes you want to make it even more, so you begin to suck small purple marks into his flesh while he shakes above you, bicep muscles flinching with effort.

“Keep fucking me,” you remind him. “Want you to cum.” 

Hyuck squeezes your hand, his pace picking up again.

“That’s it, ghost boy,” you coo, licking his throat. “Cum for your princess.”

He lets out a strangled gasp, thrusts faltering. A moment later you can feel his cum filling you up, and it makes you moan, your core throbbing with desperation. You need one more high, and you’re sure he’ll help you get it.

Hyuck rides out his orgasm, and then he collapses on top of you, his lips seeking out your own.

You allow him to kiss you for a while, cock still buried deep inside of you. Then, you begin to stroke his body again, making him shiver.

“Can you roll onto your back for me, ghost boy?” you prompt, looking up into his eyes.

Hyuck is quick to comply, and you can tell from the way his lips part, that he’s not expecting you to mount him as soon as he’s on his back. You put his cock back inside of you before any cum can drip out, and you sit there, staring down at him with your hands on his chest.

“Your recharge time is pretty good, isn’t it, ghost boy?” you tease, gently rolling your hips while he whines, grabbing your thighs from the sensitivity. “I bet I could just kiss you for a few minutes, and you’d be rock hard again in no time.”

“Princess-”

“You want to please me, don’t you, baby?” You trail a finger down his chest, teasing your nails across his abdomen and watching the muscles jump there under your touch.

“Yes,” he admits. 

“And I think we both deserve to cum one more time, don’t you?”

He nods again. 

You lean over him, pretending you’re about to kiss him, as his eyes flutter shut, lips parting in anticipation- you push his face to the side, attacking his neck instead.

“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, grabbing at your hips, squeezing you.

“Such a sensitive neck,” you muse, lips moving to his ear where you lick the shell, enjoying the way he shudders. “I wonder if I just…” you slip one hand up his chest, and Hyuck immediately arches his head, giving you full access to wrap your fingers around his throat. “That’s what I thought.”

Hyuck whimpers below you, hips pushing up, looking for friction-

“Did that make you hard, ghostie?” you laugh, sitting up and looking down at him. “Just a little choking and you’re already good to go again?”

This poor man has been repressed- you’re happy you’re the one who gets to free him. 

You begin to slowly move your hips, and Hyuck lets out a desperate moan, arching his head back even more. You tighten your grip on his throat and he responds by digging his fingers into your hips, urging you to ride him faster.

He looks so good like this.

Then, one of his hands moves, his thumb finding your clit. Your core throbs around him and you both moan loudly. Hyuck opens his eyes, looking up at you. 

“You’re being so good for me,” you tell him, rutting faster on his cock. “Make your princess cum.”

He rubs your clit harder, beginning to buck up to meet you while you ride him. 

Then, Hyuck pushes your hand from his neck, sitting up so he can latch his mouth onto your breast. He holds you close, wrapping his arms around your lower back and moving you on his cock. His teeth skim your nipple and you cry out, threading your hands in his hair and moaning in his ear.

He groans in response. This new angle has your clit rubbing against him, and you ride yourself to an intense completion, your head thrown back when your orgasm rushes over you.

As you cum, Hyuck flips you onto your back, taking over and thrusting into you with newfound energy. Your pussy throbs around him as he fucks you stupid, and when he buries his face against your throat, marking your skin, he cums too.

You can feel him shoot a second load deep inside of you, coating your walls to the point of nearly being too full, but part of you kind of loves it.

You hold him as he fucks you through your highs, listening to his panting and whining.

Finally, he stops, all but collapsing on top of you, lips feverish against your skin.

You pet his hair, trying to catch your breath. 

You’re cognizant of the fact that you don’t have all the time in the world for aftercare, and you’d rather talk with Hyuck now than address a shadow.

“Ghostie?” you whisper.

He releases a grunt. 

“We don’t have much time left,” you say sadly.

He pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. 

“Listen,” you cup his face, “being interested in a ghost the way I’m interested in you has never been something I saw for myself in this life,” you admit. “But, I am interested in you. I only have so many pictures of you that I can use to make you physical like this, but I’m going to find something to make this longer lasting, I promise. Until I do… I’m okay with you sniffing my panties, or watching me masturbate, or anything you want-”

Hyuck cracks a smile at your words, and you find yourself giggling as well.

“So you’re not going to exorcize me?” he jokes.

“Never ever,” you promise.

“You’re going to find a way for us to be together,” the ghost says softly.

“If anyone could find a way, it’s a witch like me,” you assure him, leaning up to press your lips against his.

He kisses you gently, and you get lost in it.

You’re not sure how long you stay lip-locked, but after a while, the feeling of his lips disappears. You open your eyes to find yourself alone, well- you can still see a shadow of him, but his warmth is gone, and the sensation of his kisses too.

You sigh. “I’ll find a way, ghostie,” you promise.

You’d like to think he responded, maybe with a word of encouragement, but there’s no way to know for sure.

Rolling onto your side, you imagine him behind you, close but unable to physically touch.

Leave to a witch to fall in love with a ghost.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! writing this style of Hyuck was way too satisfying

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🔮 preview.  Hyuck kisses you, grabbing your face as he does so. You can taste something unsaid on his tongue, but you do your best to ignore it as he pulls you from the sink, turning you around until your bum hits the island table. He lifts you up, setting you onto the old wood, then, he sinks to his knees. You’re wearing a dress, Hyuck loves dresses, they make it easy for him to have access to your pussy. He’s downright kitty obsessed these days, lifting up your skirt just enough to get under it. His lips make contact with your panty clad core and you let out a sigh of relief, leaning back on your palms and letting your head fall backward.

cw/ tw. Dominant leaning switchy Hyuck, unprotected ghost sex, kitchen sex, sex on a table, pussy eating, fingering, pussy obsessed Hyuck, slight ghost angst, hair pulling, choking, praise, dirty talk, kitchen quickie, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of dark magic/bones, panties as a gag, finger sucking, sex while wearing a dress,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) princess (his)  baby

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 staring. Hyuck x afab!reader

bonus

The answer to your ghost conjuration problem had been shockingly simple. If burning a picture could draw Hyuck to your existence for as long as it was alight, you realized that burning one of his bones would last substantially longer.

Most crematoriums burn bones at 1000 degrees Celsius for two or three hours. At a much lower temperature, using a Bunsen burner set to 300 degrees, you could burn one small fragment for a lot longer. 

The worst part was going to the graveyard across town, with no one but Pluto as company, under the light of the moon in the dead of night to exhume Hyuck’s body. It’s been so long since his death that you weren’t worried about finding anything other than bones in the casket, and with a spell, you didn’t even have to put in the effort to dig- but something about uncovering Hyuck’s supposed ‘final resting place’ just hadn’t sat right with you.

You’d been aware, as you had driven home with a bag full of bones, that you were teetering on the side of a darker shade of magic. But for love, you decided not to care.

The first night you’d lit up a small bone, Hyuck had appeared right behind you, and the two of you had fucked on the floor right next to the altar. 

It’s been three or four months since you began to burn Hyuck’s bones, and your lust for each other hasn’t diminished.

He’s insatiable, and you are too.

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SMUT!! Caitlyn Kiramman x Fem!Reader

Caitlyn Kiramman x Fem! Reader

18+ Smut!! Fingering, praise, AFAB reader

It's my first time writing smut, or publishing on tumblr for that matter so pls be nice lol <3 Also this is unedited.

Life as an enforcer was always gonna keep you on your toes.

Whether it be chasing drunkards on the streets of Piltover, patrolling the overly large council grounds, or the occasional graveyard shift if the sheriff was cruel enough. 

But what you found most challenging of course, was learning to handle weaponry, at least the ones that weren’t your first choice.

For a strange yet defended reason, all enforcers were required in training to use a rifle, a standard gun. And so, had led to countless hours in the training facilities aiming for wooden targets. 

Technically, you could handle one. Yet your aim was not incredibly precise.

Ever since that Kiramman girl joined, the handling of guns seemed to reach for higher standards. Apparently her family was renowned for their handling of the weaponry. 

You hit the target every time but the sheriff expected bullseyes in a row. 

Huffling in frustration you reloaded the barrel, shouldering your rifle as you aimed once more. 

But as you peered through the iron scope, a posh voice rang out behind you. 

“You’re not hitting the bullseye because you have a poor trigger pull”

Kiramman. 

“Haven’t you got a cocktail party to be at Kiramman?” you huffed, lowering your weapon as you looked back at her. 

The two of you shared a brief moment of a solid yet intimidating stare, her blue eyes bearing down on you. 

You both laughed. 

“You know me better than that” she chuckled, knowing your words were nothing but playful banter. Despite her status and the other enforcer’s distaste of her, you had grown to like the girl. Though she had a tough exterior she was sweet and playful. 

“Come to show me up then I presume?” You said, rolling your eyes as she stepped closer to which her words caused her eyes to roll. 

“You know how pathetic it is watching you stand here for hours aiming over and over, we’ll lose bullet stock because of you” she spoke, shaking her head. 

“Well I have to practise, Marcus has been up our asses since he’s seen your shooting skills… he’ll do anything to keep you from winning if it means dragging the rest of us along” You huffed, shouldering your rifle again as you turned back to the range. 

“Oh” she sighed “I didn’t realise I had placed a burden like that onto you.”

There it was again, that softness that sought for nothing but do good for people. 

“I enjoy the challenge” you answered, hoping your truth would console her as you aimed and fired again. Your body shook slightly with the recoil as the bullet was about half an inch off bullseye. 

Caitlyn chuckled, shuffling through her pockets as she stepped behind you, balancing a coin atop of your rifle.

“Don’t you remember what I said before? Try again” she said.

“I don’t want your money.”

“That’s not what it’s for. I said, "Try again.”

She stepped back as you sighed, keeping your rifle still as the coin balanced on its smooth top.

You aimed again and as you fired, the echoing sound of a coin clattering to the ground could be heard.

“Now what was-”

“You have a poor trigger pull.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You sighed, agitated by her unexplained actions.

“You should be able to fire without the coin falling, it means you move the gun as you pull the trigger and you can’t properly withstand its recoil” she explained, stepping back towards you as her hands reached out to your form.

“Your stance isn’t firm either. Open up your chest a little more and stand with your legs wider” she stated, her hands moving in correspondence with her words as she adjusted your shoulders and hips, her fingertips grazing your form.

“Try again.”

So you did, focusing as you aimed once more and fired. This time it was closer to the centre of the target, your body the stiller as the impact of the recoil began to subside. 

“Better. You just move the gun when you pull the trigger, learn to isolate your finger, you need more finger strength, I suggest working on that before you create a bullet shortage” she said with a small smirk, raising her eyebrows as she looked out to the target. 

“And how would I do that?” you huffed, lowering your weapon. 

“Just exercise it” she shrugged.

“And how would I do that?” you sighed, turning to her. In genuine curiosity you had no clue how to exercise it apart from just shooting, but that would waste bullets.

“I have my own ways of doing it.”

So that’s how you ended up in Kiramman’s bed, a withering mess as she showed you her own ‘special’ ways of literal fingering exercises. 

She had you bent over her lap, her legs crossed to raise your hips as her spare hand roaming over your backside as you moaned into her silk covers. The subtle echo of her fingers squelching in your hole could be heard.

"Not so tough are you now pretty girl?" she cooed, smirking down at you. By now you were bound to be leaking across her thigh as her fingers slipped in and out of your hole. Every time you inched closer to a release, she would just roam her fingers across your folds instead.

"Kiramman please.."

"My name is Caitlyn" she said, that dominant tone in her voice. The same tone she used to get you to lift up your own dress and pull your own panties down for her. God, it sent shivers down your spine.

"Caitlyn please-"

"You finish when I say you can finish" she commanded, her finger slipping back inside you, eliciting a long whine as you gripped at her bedsheets. Her fingers curled to hit that sweet spot inside you, sending electricity through your body as she only smirked at your needy whines. It was clear you were desperate for release; her fingers were soaked as a small stain began to appear on the fabric of her thigh as you leaked in need of proper release.

"I thought this was a finger exercise-" you whined out.

"It is, for me at least, you just get to enjoy the benefits of it" she said in that sweet little smartass voice of hers as her fingers curled up inside you again, causing another loud moan to slip from your throat.

"fuck, just let me cum" you whined, your thighs trembling in anticipation as your body begged for that high, evident in the pleasurable sounds that escaped your lips.

"Ask me properly and I just might" She said, continuing to slip her fingers in and out of you.

"Caitlyn please... please let me cum" you begged quietly, gripping at the bedsheets as you could barely keep it together anymore. She leaned in, whispering in your ear as she smirked, her fingers speeding up.

"That's a good girl" she cooed. You moaned needily.

Her fingers moved quickly inside you, sliding in to continuously press up against that sweet spot. Your thighs began to clench around her hand yet she persisted as you whined and moaned. You felt that knot in your stomach begin to build as your increased volume made it evidence, however Caitlyn showed no intention of stopping or slowing down anytime soon. Just what you wanted. Every moment felt like ecstasy as she pulled you to your high, shuddering and moaning as she felt you come undone upon her fingertips. She rode out your high, continuing to milk you of your essence until you settled to a whimpering pant, feeling her fingers slowly slip out of you.

You glanced back to see her tongue swirl around her own fingertips, your sticky consequences being lapped up by her tongue as a dirty smirk rested upon her face.

"Those aren't even your trigger fingers-"

"So? Is there a problem darling?"

"No."

"Good girl."

[sserpente]

A Routine Check-Up (Kinktober #2)

Your phone buzzed. A message from Zayne showed on the display.

Your bi-annual gynaecological health exam is due. Can you come in this week?

A/N: *cough* I'm just gonna leave this here. Have fun!

Words: 2578 Warnings: you guessed it—smut ;)

Your bi-annual gynaecological health exam is due. Please schedule an appointment with your primary physician as soon as possible.

Oh. Your heart skipped a beat when you read the message that popped up on your Hunter’s Watch. Damn it all, you’d rather fight a horde of Wanderers than put yourself through that. You were, of course, very well aware of how important these regular check-ups were. Under any circumstances, they wouldn’t be a problem. But it wasn’t just any doctor that—

Your phone buzzed and you pulled it out of your pocket. A message from Zayne showed on the display.

Your bi-annual gynaecological health exam is due. Can you come in this week?

Alright then…the sooner you made an appointment, the sooner you could get this over with. You weren’t necessarily nervous about the exam itself; it was uncomfortable, sure but other than that… Ugh. It was the fact it was Dr. Zayne—your Dr. Zayne—who would be performing it. There was something you’d wanted to bring up. A little problem, so to speak.

Sure thing, Dr. Zayne! I’ll be off the clock tomorrow afternoon?

He read it. Mere seconds later, the three dots indicating he was typing a reply popped up at the bottom of your screen.

Come see me at my office at 5 PM then.

Right. You’d do that. You glanced at your bathroom door. Perhaps you should get trimmed a little down there before that.

Thinking about anything other than that fateful exam in the evening, you spent the whole day whiling away. The pile of paperwork—reports on Wanderers you defeated and the Protocores you’d retrieved—didn’t grow any smaller.

Damn it, you’d feel more comfortable walking straight into the N109 zone rather than Zayne’s office. You hesitated when you finally stood before his door, your fist hovering mid-air. You’d count to then and then you’d knock.

One, two, three, four, five…with a start, the door opened, revealing Dr. Zayne in his usual medical attire. He was wearing his glasses and he looked a bit tired around the eyes. Perhaps he hadn’t slept well either. Presumably, however, not for the same reasons as you.

You smiled. “Hello, Dr. Zayne.”

“Come on in.” Reciprocating your smile, he stepped aside. He’d already prepared the room. Normally, these types of exams were conducted in the treatment rooms but given you were a Hunter and Dr. Zayne was your primary care physician, no such arrangements had been necessary.

You took a deep breath, eyeing the gynaecological chair he’d set up.

“You seem nervous. Are you alright?”

“Me? Nervous? N-no, why would I be?”

Zayne tilted his head. His scrutinising gaze was full of worry—it often was when you discussed your health with him. “I’ve been doing your gynaecological health exams for many years now. You were never nervous before. What changed?”

Many years ago I wasn’t in love with you yet, you thought. Besides, we still haven’t talked about that kiss the other night…

“I guess I’m just a little anxious,” you lied, “Tara told me they found two cysts in one of her friends’ ovaries once.”

Zayne frowned. It was the last thing you saw before you moved behind the makeshift medical curtain to undress. Your skirt came off, and your panties soon followed.

“Have you been experiencing any pain or abnormalities?”

“I haven’t.”

“Then I don’t see any reason for worry. Have you been tracking your menstruation?”

“I have.” Timidly, you reappeared from behind the curtain and tiptoed over to the chair in your socks.

“Anything out of the ordinary? Any bad cramps or other symptoms?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Alright then. Sit down on the chair for me so we can begin.” He was always so calm, so reassuring, so…collected. Come to think of it, you had never seen him lose his temper. Even that one time he was so angry at you for dismissing yourself from the hospital early he’d been quiet—almost eerily so. It was a trait that drove you mad in the best ways possible.

Biting your lower lip, you climbed on the gynaecological chair and crossed your fingers over your belly, scooting forward until Zayne had you where he needed you. You watched him prepare a speculum and cover it in lube, his hands hidden by a pair of medical gloves.

Your heart was pounding when he moved between your legs. Knowing that this wasn’t the first time he was seeing you…down there and that there was nothing to worry about barely helped your situation.

It was different this time. You longed for his touch, longed for his presence. But…you took a deep breath when Zayne inserted the speculum into your opening slowly and carefully. But if he could stay professional, then so could you.

“I’m going to do your pap smear first. It might feel a little uncomfortable.”

You hummed by way of a response, bracing yourself. Zayne was so gentle you barely felt anything though. You almost closed your eyes. Almost.

“Alright…” he said when he was done. “Everything looks normal. No infections, no discolouration…” You were pretty certain he was talking to himself and working through a protocol in his head. You nodded regardless, resisting the urge to flinch when his hand grazed your outer lips when he removed the speculum again.

“I am going to feel inside you now to check for any abnormalities. I need you to tell me if anything hurts.”

“O-Okay.” Shit, he was going to do what now? You bit your lower lip when he inserted to fingers into your warmth. They slid inside with ease due to the lube he’d used earlier…although at this point you weren’t so sure anymore if it was just the lube that helped him.

Zayne pressed down gently on various parts of your lower body, supporting his movements by placing his palm on your abdomen.

“You’re breathing heavily. Are you in pain?”

“No. No, I’m fine, Dr. Zayne!”

“Hmm…” He paused as if he couldn’t decide whether he believed you or not. “Alright. Let’s do the ultrasound and then we’re almost done.”

You nodded yet again and pressed your lips together to a thin line.

You almost whined at the loss of his fingers inside of you. The ultrasound wand wrapped in a condom didn’t feel nearly as nice when he inserted it, his gaze fixed on the little screen next to the chair.

“Your ovaries look healthy…I can see no cysts. Your bladder looks fine too and your uterus…yes. Everything’s alright.”

He looked at you and blinked once, eliciting a shy smile from you. Good god…it was almost over.

Zayne removed the ultrasound wand and began to clean it up. “Do you have any questions for me? Or perhaps…” He hesitated. “Are you planning on getting any birth control?”

“D-Do I have to run that by you if I do?”

“Not all birth control pills or other methods might be compatible with the medication you need for your Protocore Syndrome.”

“I see…no, I…I don’t think I need anything…right now.”

“Alright. You can sit up. If you’d just remove your shirt for me so I can check your breasts for any knots…”

Your eyes widened. “Oh yeah! O-of course.”

Shit. You’d give anything to have Zayne caress your breasts under different circumstances. Embarrassment due to your obvious romantic affinity for him aside, you almost wished…

You sighed and did as you were told. Timidly, you lifted your shirt and kept your arms tucked in.

“That…that is not going to work, I’ll need to feel the side of your breasts too. Perhaps it’d be best if you remove it completely. I know it’s a little cool in my office, it won’t be for long.”

It’s not about the cold, Dr. Zayne. It’s not about the cold.

“S-Sure.”

You pulled your shirt over your head quickly. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra today knowing the exam was due, and it was just easier that way. You were left wearing only your skirt before him now, your nails digging into the soft leather of the gynaecological chair and almost tearing the protective cover on top of it.

Zayne’s expression remained stoic. After putting on a fresh pair of medical gloves, he examined your breasts one by one. Your chest was heaving.

“Have you noticed anything unusual?”

“What? Uh, no, no, nothing unusual.”

“Good.” He retreated. “That concludes the exam. Are you sure you don’t have any questions?”

Yes. No. God, you couldn’t ask him what’d been on your mind for the past months…could you? Not anymore, not now that you and he…

A shiver went through you when he said your name—calmly but sternly. “Do you remember when I asked you to always be honest with me, especially when it comes to your health?”

“I do but—”

“But what?”

You felt your eyes heating up and sucked your lips between your teeth. “It’s…it’s embarrassing… Doctor Zayne, perhaps…perhaps I should be speaking to a female physician or a nurse about…this?”

“So there is something that troubles you.” He spoke your name yet again and damn it all, you wished he would stop being so considerate and caring for a moment. That would make things a lot easier for you right now. “Even if you do speak about this with a female physician, they are obligated to enter all accumulated data into your e-file. As your primary care physician, I have access to that file. Whenever something gets added, I am either the one who entered it or the first one to find out.”

“O-oh…”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He placed his hands on your bare knees, his gaze respectfully glued to your eyes rather than your exposed sex right before him. “There is nothing you need to be ashamed of around me.”

“Zayne, I…just…I’ve been having trouble, uh…well…getting there lately.” Oh god, this was so embarrassing. Where was this pit to swallow you whole that everyone always talked about? You felt like you were in some cheap porn movie…

“Getting there?” He sounded genuine. Great. You had to spell it out.

“I’ve been having trouble…reaching orgasm when I…you know.”

Zayne remained quiet for a moment. Not a single emotion escaped his neutral expression—you did not, however, miss the slight twitching of his jaw.

“Prolonged stress can impact the ability to relax enough for acceptance, for lack of a better word, of sexual stimulation,” he began matter-of-factly, “and ever since you finished training at the Hunter’s Academy, your stress levels have almost constantly been alarmingly high.”

“How do you know that?”

“Heart rate variability analysis and regular hormonal testing during your monthly check-ups.”

“Ah…But…a-are you sure it’s just that? I’ve…I’ve tried everything. I even bought…” A vibrator. You stopped yourself and bit your lower lip.

“If you are worried about any physical causes, I can take a look. But, your Protocore Syndrome aside, you are healthy. It is highly unlikely you are affected by Anorgasmia or similar orgasmic dysfunctions that I have missed to diagnose. Have you always struggled? Or have you been able to bring yourself to climax before?”

You didn’t need to see yourself in the mirror to know you were as red as a tomato at this point. “I…no, this did start a while after I passed my Hunter’s exam…”

Zayne nodded. “There you have it. But if you want to be sure, I can go through a couple of tests with you.”

“T-tests?”

Another nod. “To make sure there are no physical restrictions to your ability to feel pleasure.”

Your lips parted. You…didn’t know you’d needed to hear the word pleasure out of Zayne’s mouth. But even so…this annoying little problem had been on your mind for weeks. What if there was something wrong with you? Something new that neither Zayne nor you had yet discovered?

“Then…then let’s do the tests. I want to be sure it’s nothing serious. How… How will you be doing that?”

“The best way would be through direct stimulation of the erogenous zones. We’ll work from there.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Sit back on the chair for me.”

You obliged and watched him mutely. Zayne applied some of the lube he’d used earlier to his thumb and moved back between your legs. You spread them wider hesitantly. With your heart in your mouth, you bit down hard on your lower lip when he pressed his thumb against your clit and began to caress it with slow and deliberate circular motions, his fingers cupping your pubic mound.

A gasp escaped your lips before you could stop yourself.

“You are responding right away. That is a good sign.”

Fuck…it…it did feel good. So good. Too good. So much better than when it was your fingers playing with your pussy. Perhaps it wasn’t the stress after all. Perhaps it was the fact that you were longing. For him. Perhaps your thirst could not be quenched unless it was…with him?

But…no! You couldn’t possibly…exploit him like that…he was…genuinely caring and…wanted…to make sure that…fuck…

Zayne applied a bit more pressure.

To make sure that…you were okay…he…he…

There was no way to hold back a moan when he used his other hand to slide two fingers inside of you. He curled them just right, quickly finding what he was looking for. And as he started stimulating your g-spot, you realised that it indeed wasn’t the lube that made you wet, receptive and responsive.

Zayne looked up, his lips slightly parted. Surprise reflected in his hazel green eyes—almost as if he caught himself…enjoying your reactions. Could…could that be?

He kept going nonetheless but his gaze now remained fixed on you, watching you intently.

“Z-Zayne…” You knew what you wanted to tell him. You knew what was going to happen. He knew that too, it seemed.

“It’s alright. Let go.”

“I…oh…oh God…Zayne…” You couldn’t have disobeyed the doctor’s orders even if you had wanted to. You came undone around his fingers, your tight walls clenching around him rhythmically as your orgasm washed over you. You arched your back, bucking your hips to meet his attentive touches. Zayne did not let up. He kept his hands on you to help you ride out every last wave of pleasure he’d bestowed on you.

Your eyes locked with his once you came down from your high, embarrassment crawling up your spine. But Zayne…he was breathing heavily. His eyes were glazed as if…had…had this aroused him too? You didn’t dare look down for evidence.

“There. Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“I…I am. I…”

“It’s the stress that is keeping you from relaxing without a doubt. I…I believe I might have to describe more of this treatment to you just to be sure.” Wait, what? “Especially given how the excessive release of endorphins during an orgasm can help reduce stress levels.” He chuckled. He actually chuckled!

“I…you…we…” It was no use. You were at a loss for words.

“You were my last patient for today,” Zayne announced. “Let me drive you home.”

You nodded, still dazed from what had just happened. Your cheeks were flushed, your ears hot. Between your legs, there was a waterfall you’d have to bring back under control before you put your panties back on.

This evening was far from over. Because if there was one thing you knew despite both your twisted emotions and feelings for one another, this bi-annual gynaecological check-up had just moved your relationship to a new level.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

last set of tsumsitter ssr groovies 👀

THE TIME HAS COME

First is Pomefiore!! (Edit: The initial version of this Groovy is on the left; Rook is missing the golden Pomefiore markings on his robes. There was an update to fix this. The updated version is on the right.)

The trio is framed by a border of colorful lights, which reminds me a lot of old-fashioned movie theater signs (though not as colorful). If you look closely at the top and bottom, it seems they are posed for a candid photograph and it’s being posted to Magicam or something?? Rook and Epel look super crisp here, which I love!! I think Epel is posing with his hands held behind his back. This paired with his smile and the slight bird’s eye view of his face makes him look super cute please don’t beat me up for saying that, Epel. And Rook is being showy and familiar as usual, even putting one hand on Vil’s shoulder. Vil isn’t cringing or uncomfortable with it, which goes to show that he and Rook are truly good friends.

As for Vil, it’s rare to see him posed casually like this. Most of his cards feature him posed in very “model”-like and mature ways, so to have just one hand on hip, leaning forward slightly, and gripping his grimoire is unique for him (I mostly associate this pose with Ace, lol). His smile is quite casual too—it’s not quite the full catty smirk he has in his live2D model, it’s a lot more subtle and playful.

BahacTeHWWRVwkkwwm YHE VIL TSUM STeALS THE SHOW ThoUGH 😭 (You can tell it’s smiling despite the lack of a visible mouth) from how its eyes!! The placement of the Tsum is also funny. With Pomefiore’s peacock throne in the background, it forms sort of an angelic halo around… the sentient stuffed toy… Proof that Tsum Vil is a heavenly being/j

Next is Ignihyde!!

The Shroud brothers return to Cyberspace, that blue void with tons of ethereal floating screens, particle effects, and code www I don’t know what those three pink balls of flame are in the background, but there being three of them is a consistent theme for Ignihyde. Three pink fireballs, three Shroud brothers, three heads of Cerberus! I wish I could say more here, but I’m basically a Malleus when it comes to tech—

Idia’s pose isn’t anything we haven’t seen before (just at different angles of it, I suppose). But!! It feels different here and adding Ortho definitely adds to it. The Pokémon trainer energy of the initial art carries over to the Groovy. Idia looks like a smug, tough trainer looking down on you with a cocky grin and his face half-shadowed.

Ortho floats almost menacingly next to his big brother, his face entirely shadowed. His aura is like a phantom (fitting) or even like a Pokémon on standby waiting for the chance to fire off a Hyper Beam. This might be me overthinking things, but I wonder if the amount of light on the brothers’ faces references the original Ortho. Robo!Ortho’s face is entirely darkened because his parallel has passed on. Idia’s face is only partially shadowed because while he was close to stepping over to the “other side”, he ultimately found hope and was able to continue living, this time for himself and on his own terms.

I LIKE HoW TSUM IDIA HAS ITS OWN sCREEN TO WORK OFF OF TOO 😭 IBRO IS MAkING A sUS FACE TOO, IT’S GLEEfUL AbOUT WhAtEVRr it’S UP TO… That makes me think that it’s hard at work… I dunno, hacking something systems fnksgwiwozlapaeb Watch out, a Tsum near you might infect your computer and then bounce away happily after ruining all your programs and files.

Last but not least… Diasomnia!! THIS ONE’S MY fAVORITE OF THE SSR TSUMSITTER GROUP, WHICH I WAs NOT EXPecTING AT ALL 🤡

The violet backlight is fantastic—it adds an interesting lighting to the illustration and highlights the green flames and Silver and Sebek’s bright eyes. And speaking of Sebek and Silver, LOOK AT THEM JUST LOOK AT THEM???????? More specifically, Sebek’s arms (they look ultra meaty somehow) and Silver’s whole face(that lopsided smile??? HELLO?????)!! On either side of Malleus like that… Peak bodyguard, I REPEAT, PEAK BODYGUARD

With Lilia bringing up the rear, the three form a perfect squad to surround and to protect their liege. cbsjsbevejwlw I like that Lilia is different than Silver and Sebek; he’s hanging out upside down (as he usually does) and bears a huuuge grin, completely having fun in the moment. (… How does his hat stay on like that when he’s fighting gravity though?)

Up front and center is Malleus of course! He’s wielding his spindle staff like a king might a scepter. This with his fierce face gives the impression of a leader marching into battle with his retainers. You get a real good shot of his teeth and reptilian eyes here which I’m sure the Malleus stans are going feral for right now—and with the limelight shining down on him, he looks almost hopeful for once instead of downtrodden or gloomy.

THE TSUM MALLEUS LOOKS SO FUNKY PLACED tHERE cnsnwveuxvDFsFjqk Just. Cheekily There on Malleus’s shoulder… Because Maleficent and Diablo is a known combination, the image of those two as master and minion comes to mind. Imagine Malleus blasting you with lightning, pausing to listen to his Tsum whispering a suggestion into his ear, and then telling you the Tsum has advised that he blast you with a second strike 💀

Aaaaaah, the Tsumsitter SSR Groovies are some of the best in this game 😭 So glad they’re finally over though, it’s stressful saving rolls for what you know would be a limited event with multiple SSR banners, lol

[mrsjellymunson]

Start Something

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day

WC: ~2.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).

A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆 Text dividers by @strangergraphics Dice dividers by me 🫣☺️

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤

My masterlist

Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.

You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.

Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.

This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.

This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.

He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.

So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.

He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.

He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.

And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.

He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…

Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.

You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…

But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.

What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.

And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…

All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??

Neither of you should’ve worried.

As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.

You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.

Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.

Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.

You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.

The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.

You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)

With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.

Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,

“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”

He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,

“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”

You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.

With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”

You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.

You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.

Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.

You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.

It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.

As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.

It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.

And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.

It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.

Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.

Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”

Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.

You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.

Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”

You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”

Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.

You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.

At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…

Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.

He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.

As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.

You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.

He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.

You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?

You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.

You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”

Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.

Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.

Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.

All at once, something shifts. Something big.

Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.

Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.

Shit, he likes me.

Fuck, she likes me back.

And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.

Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.

You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.

Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.

Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.

The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.

You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.

You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,

“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”

Turning, you add, even less subtly,

“What should I do now, Master?”

Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his hardness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.

His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,

“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”

The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.

They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.

In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,

“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”

You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.

With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.

Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,

“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”

Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with the internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.

He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour in which to find out. But he does know one thing:

He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.

Thanks so much for reading!

(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers 😃🥰

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[veilofwinter]

#SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

pairing: Dina x Ellie x Reader

tags: smut, fingering, MY LOVES

Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average.

“YN, you need to get out more! All you do is work and sleep!” Jesse complains. But how could you “get out more” if the whole world was under attack by human beings infected by fungus?

“Jesse, m’not going out tonight. I gotta patrol early tomorrow, I don’t have time f’drinking.” You scoff, closing the book you were reading and placing it in the nearby nightstand. “You’re so boring, you never do anything fun.” He rolls his eyes and exits the room.

You never enjoyed parties anyways. You always felt like an outcast to this whole group of people, you were surprised they even let you stay this damn long. You had showed up out of no where and yet they let you in after a check for infection.

The day continued like usual. Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat, and obviously the necessities. You groan as you awake, your hair bed head a lot messier than usual. You rub your temples as you exit the hard bed that was seemingly put together from sheets and scattered pillows found around.

You somehow found yourself assigned to early patrol with Ellie and Dina. It wasn’t that you disliked them, it was that you liked them a little too much. Somehow, they distracted you from your daily routine, always pulling you somewhere you didn’t need to be, forcing you to explore things you’d never explored. But today it seemed there was a lot of tension in the area. The snow not making it any better as the freezing air made the freeze of the silence grow thicker.

Silence engulfed the whole ride, until they approached an abandoned warehouse that had a harsh smell of weed. Inside a whole farm of it, just growing like nothing. “Hey hey, I haven’t seen this shit in forever.” Ellie says picking up a jar. “Does weed expire?” She asks turning to Dina, having finally spoken a word to each other. “I guess we’ll have to find out?”

A loud bang was heard, causing you to flinch as you turned to see that the snow had trapped all three of you inside the weed smelling warehouse. “God, I did not want this.” You roll your eyes, removing the gloves you wore. “Fuck…!” You kick something nearby. “Whoa there, it’s not that big of a deal, we can just stay here until it dies down. Then we can try moving the snow.” Ellie suggests, removing her coat and settling in a nearby couch.

You watch as Dina does the same, grabbing a lighter that seemingly still worked to light the joint they’d found in the jar. “This still hits.” Dina says with a small smile, passing the joint over to Ellie. You sigh, removing your jacket and looking around to search for another exit. “Hey, why are you so quick to leave? Live a little and come smoke this with us.” Ellie says, looking at you with her low eyes as the weed seemed to already be taking effect.

“I’m good, I don’t smoke. I didn’t smoke before either.” You roll your eyes, looking around once more, seeing that there were no other ways out. “Just come and sit down. It’s like you have a stick up your ass or somethin’.” Dina says, tilting her head to look at you. You groan, stomping over to them both and settling on the couch. “Here, I think ya need it.” Ellie giggles, egging Dina to do the same.

“I said I’m good.” Dina takes the joint, “Just one time, it won’t kill ya?” She takes a drag from the joint, blowing it into your face, causing you to retract. “Fine.” You finally give in, inhaling the smoke. You cough quickly, the biting sensation in the back of your throat lingering. “Okay what the hell?” You ask, hunching over to cough. “It’s fine, happens when it’s your first time. Try again.” Ellie helps you sit up, guiding the joint to your lips.

“When you inhale, inhale it slowly. So, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” Dina says softly, placing her hand on your thigh unconsciously. You flinch slightly, inhaling the smoke, letting it drape into your lungs slowly. Blowing the smoke into the air, you feel yourself becoming a lot more relaxed. “That was better yeah?” Ellie asks, watching you as she inhaled the joint and blows the smoke into your face.

“I guess so.” You say quietly, everyone feeling the effects of the weed. It hits you harder, your head spinning softly, your eyes getting heavier, and the stir between your legs becoming a lot more prominent. “Should we have another Dina? I’m not sure she can handle two.” Ellie says, looking at your slouched appearance.

You shake your head. “I’m good, I think.” You chuckle. Ellie nods lighting another, placing it between her thin yet plump lips. You watch her, your eyes entranced by the way her lips wrap around the joint. Dina slides her hand further up your leg, catching your attention. You turn to her, a smirk dawning her lips as she tilts her head to get a better look at you.

Ellie hands the joint over once more, this time leaning over you a bit more than usual. The feeling of her skin warming you up a lot more then you already were, her perky and uncovered breasts swaying in your face. You blush softly, your face tinted slightly. The thoughts that run through your head becoming unholy, but you blame it on the weed. Dina takes a drag, inhaling slowly. Suddenly she leans into you, your lips parting as she connects her lips to yours and exhales the smoke back into your lungs.

It was random, causing you to flinch softly. “Did ya like that? Or should I stop?” She slides her hand up your thigh further, her thumb gliding over your clothed cunt softly. Ellie watches, her eyes lingering over your figure. You look at Dina, the sinful thoughts running through your head starting to take over. “I-I don’t do this. I’ve never-“ Ellie silences you, putting the bud of the joint into the couch to let it burn out.

“We got you.”

Like usual, with Ellie and Dina you were doing something you didn’t usually do. Your legs spread open as Dina licked up the slit of your wet and dripping cunt. Ellie grips her hair, guiding her to eat you out just right. Your hands gripping the side of the couch as you whine and groan Dina’s name out into existence. Her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs open as you shake, throwing your head back as she hits the spot that makes you tingle just right.

“Fuhh-ck!” Your head falls back off the couch, Dina’s fingers mingling with the hardened buds underneath your shirt. “Feel good pretty?” Ellie asks softly, looking down at you. You nod, droll pooling at your lips. Dina slides her finger into your core, your back arching into her as you fuck yourself with her fingers. “Fuc- Dina! Oh good-“ You grip the couch harder, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

She eats you like it was her last meal, her eyes never leaving yours as she penetrates you with another finger. Ellie continues to guide her, hitting all the spots inside you just right. Her hands come down to your chest, running her thumb over the nipple as if she was admiring the way they bounced as you used Dina. “Yesyes.. right there!”

You grind against her face, feeling yourself become a lot needier. The high you felt earlier could never compare to this one. Her hands spreading you open just right, your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me hun.” She says softly, diving back into you as you open your eyes to look down at her. Ellie watches in awe at the way you open up to Dina’s fingers. “Oh shi- I’m gonna cum Din-“ Ellie suddenly moves Dina’s hand away.

You catch your breath, confused as to why she was depriving you. “I wanna turn too.” Dina rolls her eyes. “You could’ve at least let her cum first. I’m sure she can handle two orgasms.” You watch as they talk about you like you're not even there. “Okay then, think you can handle two pretty?” Your eyes pan to Ellie, nodding slowly as you lean back once more. “Good girl, see I told ya.” Dina says, sliding her digits back inside of you.

She decides not to start slow this time, her fingers using you quickly. “I wanna taste you c’mon.” You feel the high you were on coming back, your hands gripping her hair softly. Your eyes don’t leave her as Ellie leans back, watching the both of you as she waits patiently for her turn with you.

“C’mon hun, wanna taste your cum.” Dina speaks sinfully, causing you to fall over the edge. “Oh- cumming! Please!” You release on her fingers, back arching over the edge of the couch. Your legs shake as you orgasm like you never have before. She sucks softly on your sensitive bud, you whine softly. “Gotta take one more for Ellie, she wants a taste too hun.” Dina slaps your cunt softly.

You nod, spreading your legs once more. The adrenaline running through your body causing you to work against how sensitive you were. “Go in then you needy fuck, go get your fill of her before she changes her mind.” Dina slaps Ellie’s arm softly, wiping her face of your essence. Ellie leans in, kissing your stomach, kissing the inside of your thigh, then kissing your fold softly. “I can’t wait anymore.”

She suddenly licks, causing you to close your legs. “Ah Ah C’mon now. You keep ‘em open f’me do the same for El.” Dina spread your legs back open, leaning against Ellie. You whine, feeling sensitive as Ellie continues with her endeavor. She spreads your folds, sliding her finger inside to replace Dina’s. The length of her finger hitting a spot inside you that Dina didn��t hit before.

“Ah, wait! You- god!” You try to close your legs once more, but Dina slaps your inner thigh, holding them open. “Hey, stop it. You said you could take it so take it like a big girl.” Dina giggles, rubbing your inner thigh softly. You chant Ellie’s name, her fingers curling slighting inside you. You grip her hair, riding her face as if she were a dildo and you were a pornstar.

Dina feels her arousal pooling in her pants, sliding her hand down into her jeans as she touches herself at the sight of you. Your bottom lip I’m between your teeth as you groan, Ellie’s hair gripped in between your fingers. She enjoys the sight of it all. Ellie kissing your stomach again as she adds another finger, speeding up just enough to make you scream. “I’m- oh shit! Ellie please…!” You hold onto her wrist to keep her from moving away, riding her fingers and clenching around them.

“Gonna cum pretty, I wanna taste you as bad. S’not fair Dina got to try it first.” You whine, unable to speak. Dina throws her head back as she feels herself about to release around her own fingers. “Gonna cum together yeah? Cum with me YN.” She says breathlessly as she rides her own fingers. Ellie snickers, “ya just couldn’t wait could ya?” Diving back down to devour the essence about to release from you.

Your head spinning softly, your back arching, you ride her fingers until suddenly. You burst, cumming and squeezing around her fingers, your head falling back and your legs shaking like never before. “E-El oh Fuck! Yesyesyes!” You spread your legs more as she licks it all up, not leaving one drop of you behind. “Taste so good pretty.” She says quietly into your cunt.

Dina cums as well, her legs shaking as she slows down, circling her bud slowly. “Oh yes..” she leans back, pulling her hand out of her jeans. “Wanna taste?” She asks, leaning forward and placing her fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck them clean. Your eyes low, the high still rippling through you.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

I want them both so bad...

[coldfanbou]

What A Few Drinks Do

Alright, new twice mommy series part. We had some slight fallout from the last part before we spent some time with Dahyun. We learn something interesting about this mommy lol. This part is gonna help set something up for later.

Length 2.5K

Dahyun X Mreader

Last Part

Next Part

You wake up, get ready, and drive to Dahyun’s home. You chat with her briefly as she puts Eunsoo in the back. “You said Nayeon was just going to ride with us yesterday, right?”

“Mhmm, she just wanted a good look at the area. She hasn’t asked for another ride, so we can go as soon as I have Eunsoo all set.” Dahyun buckles in her sleepy baby and climbs into the back, checking herself for everything. “We’re all set back here.”

“Then let’s get going.” Your drive is peaceful, and the two of you walk into work. You notice Jeongyeon hadn’t come in yet. It was strange, but you thought that maybe she was just going to be late. During your break, you meet up with Dahyun, “Did you see Jeongyeon at all today?”

“No, I haven’t. Nayeon’s not here either,” Dahyun pouts as she begins to think with a bit of worry on her face, “Do you think something happened to them?”

“I don’t think so, to both of them? I’ll call Jeongyeon, and you can call Nayeon. You do have her number, right?” Dahyun nods her head and calls Nayeon while you do the same for Jeongyeon. You hear the tone as you wait for your call to go through, only to get sent to her voicemail. Dahyun receives the same response, but neither woman responds. The two of you are considering visiting Nayeon. “I don’t know where Jeongyeon lives, so we’ll have to visit Nayeon to see if she knows anything.” Dahyun nods her head.

“Yeah, I hope nothing bad happened.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much Dahyun. They’re strong. Let’s finish the day before going.” Dahyun nods along, her face a mix of concern and uncertainty. The two of you focus on your work, trying to distract yourselves before finishing up the day and heading back to her home. You unload Eunsoo first, helping Dahyun get everything back home before heading to Nayeon’s apartment. You knock on the door when no response comes; you knock again, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. 

This time, the door opened; it was just a crack, but it was enough to tell you Nayeon was home. “Nayeon!” Dahyun says, relieved to see her. “We got worried when you and Jeongyeon didn’t show up for work. Are you alright? And do you know if Jeongyeon is okay? We tried to call her earlier.”

Nayeon opens the door a little more, “Sorry for not coming in today. It’s just that Jeongyeon isn’t doing so well.” The older woman looks inside before turning back to you. “She found out her husband has been cheating on her. She’s been in bed crying all day. I don’t think now's the time to have company.” You struggle to find the words to respond.

“Is there anything we can do for her? Maybe bring her something to eat?”

“We’d appreciate that, Dahyun. I’m probably going to miss the next few days of work while I watch Jeongyeon. I’ll tell you both when she starts to feel better.”

“Right, we appreciate that, Nayeon.” You tell her before she closes the door on you and Dahyun. You head back to Dahyun’s home, entering behind her. “Dahyun, would you mind if I stayed the night?”

Dahyun gently bounces Eunsoo in her arms as she heads towards her bedroom. “Of course. Let me put Eunsoo down, and I can start something.” Dahyun uses her body to close the door to her bedroom. Placing Eunsoo in her crib, Dahyun's grin grows. She knew it was a bad situation, but she was happy it caused you to spend more time with her. Dahyun jumped up and down in the room as quietly as she could, far too excited. She calms herself down, running her hands through her hair to clean her messy hair before stepping back out. 

“What do you want to eat?” She says, struggling to hide her smile as she looks at you.

“Let’s see what you have first,” you say as you look inside the fridge. “Actually, let me cook something for you. It’ll be something simple but delicious. We can bring some over to Nayeon and Jeonyeon, too.”

“Yeah,” Dahyun says, walking over to you and placing her hand on your back. “At least let me help you.”

“You can help me after you change, Dahyun. You should change into something more comfortable.” Dahyun nods and hurries to her room, changing quickly before returning in an oversized t-shirt and pajama bottoms. 

“Alright, now let me help,” Dahyun says with conviction. The two of you make a small meal of seared fish, rice, and stir-fried vegetables. You prepare enough for yourselves and Jeongyeon and Nayeon. 

“We should take these over while it’s still hot. I can take them real quick; you can plate the rest.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You pack some of the food and head to Nayeon’s home. You knock on the door, waiting outside for a second when Nayeon opens the door slowly, poking her out from behind it.

“We made you two some food; it’s still hot.” You tell her as you hand over the food. “Is Jeongyeon doing alright? I mean, is she at least eating?”

“She’d rather not, but I’m making sure she does. Thanks for the food. I know she’ll appreciate it.” Nayeon says with a slight smile. “I’m glad that she’s made some good friends.”

You nod in response, “We just want to see her do well. I’ll be leaving now. Good night.”

“Good night.” She says, closing the door.

You return to Dahyun’s, thinking about how Jeongyeon must be feeling. As you step through the door to Dahyun’s apartment, she grabs your arm and drags you to your seat. “Come on, let’s eat.” You and Dahyun talk about various topics throughout your meal, going from work to what you like to do at home as you have a few drinks.

“It’s amazing that you’re able to work and take care of Eunsoo. Do you even have any time for yourself?”

“Sometimes, but for the most part, I just sleep. I’m too tired to do anything else.” 

“I’m sure it must be tough sometimes.”

“Yeah, but it’s a little easier now that you pick us up and drop us off. I’ve had a little more time to sleep in the morning. I’ve gotten the chance to relax more, and I feel really good.” Dahyun runs her finger along the rim of her glass. She gives you a nervous look before breaking into a smile. “Um, would you like to… never mind.” Dahyun wipes her face. You watch it begin to turn red and decide to push her on the subject.

“Would I like to what?”

“I-um was going to ask if you’d like to…” Dahyun looks around the room, trying to find some way to change the subject. You lean over the small dining table and place your hands around the side of Dahyun’s eyes, giving her nowhere else to look. “I want to know if you wanted to have sex.” She says quietly, her pale face turning a bright red. 

“What was that?” You ask her to repeat herself, wanting to tease her.

“Do you want to have sex?” Dahyun says as she looks at the dining table.

You stop covering Dahyun’s peripheral vision, “I think that you’re the one that wants to have sex, Dahyun.” She blushes at your statement. The alcohol was talking for both of you; you lean in and steal a kiss from Dahyun. She shuts her eyes, her hands gingerly wrapping around you as you get closer to one another. You grab Dahyun, lifting her as you two continue to kiss. You carry her to the living room, crashing on top of her couch. You feel her legs wrap around you. Your hands move down her sides, grabbing at the hem of her shirt. You lift it slowly before tossing it off her body, seeing her bare breasts as Dahyun looks away from you. You cup one of the soft mounds, giving it a light squeeze and shaking it in your hand. She shivers at your touch, a gasp escaping her lips. 

You run your thumb over her nipple, flicking it lightly. A small amount of milk leaks from her tit as you give her breast another squeeze—this time, Dahyun moans, her eyes filled with lust as she grabs the couch's armrest. You kiss the middle of her chest, slowly moving to her left breast. You kiss around her nipple, teasing her as her breathing becomes heavy with anticipation.

Dahyun felt herself getting wet as you teased her body. She could hardly keep her eyes off you. You avoid her nipple, moving up toward her neck and planting sweet kisses. Dahyun coos as she feels your tongue against her skin; your finger flicks her nipple again, making her grimace as her world becomes filled with pleasure.

Your slide your other hand down her smooth stomach, sneaking under her pajama bottoms and rubbing against her cunt, the thin fabric of her panties quickly becoming soaked in her juices along her slit. “Ah, that feels so good,” Dahyun groans. 

You stop kissing her momentarily, getting by her ear to tell her, “Don’t forget to make me feel good.” 

Dahyun looks down at your bulge and reaches for it. Cupping it in her hands, she feels the heat radiating from it. She rubs it slowly with her hand, earring small groans from you as you get under her panties and push two fingers inside her. “Oh fuck,” Dahyun moans as she grips your shirt. You curl your fingers inside her, rubbing against her walls as you push your fingers in and out of her. You take in one of her nipples, running your tongue along it. Dahyun’s body grew weaker; she could hardly move as you flooded her mind with pleasure. “Keep going,” She moaned, grinding herself against your hand. 

“Dahyun, you’re sounding so slutty.” You whisper into her ear.

“Don’t say that. I’m not a slut,” Dahyun whimpers as she nears her climax. You feel her walls tighten around your fingers; you speed up, causing her to whine. 

“Don’t you hear yourself? You’re moaning like one.” You say as you flick her nipple with your tongue. 

“I’m-I’m cumming,” Dahyun was trying to refuse your claims, but she climaxed before she could finish. You watch her body twitch as she cums, as she soaks her pajama bottoms in her nectar. Still, you continue to finger her, “Wait, please!” Dahyun whines as you overstimulate her. You shut her up with a kiss. 

Feeling her walls tighten around your fingers again, you slow down and deny her another orgasm.  You climb off the already-exhausted woman, stripping yourself down to nothing before doing the same to Dahyun. Back on the couch, you grab Dahyun and place her on your lap so she can straddle you. Dahyun places her hands on the sofa, trying to support herself as you tease her cunt with your cock. She mumbles something, and when you ask her to say it louder, she repeats herself, “I want your cock.”

“Are you being honest with yourself now, Dahyun?” She lazily nods at you. You get by her ear, whispering your question, “Are you a slut, Dahyun?”

“I’m not a slut,” 

“What if I made you my slut?” You let go of Dahyun’s body, letting her support herself but keeping your cock pointed toward her cunt. “All you have to do is drop yourself on my cock.” You make the choice harder for Dahyun by rubbing the tip against her lips. When you come to a stop, Dahyun drops her weight on you, impaling herself on your cock. You both moan. Grabbing onto Dahyun’s waist, you start to thrust, holding her still as you drive your cock deep into Dahyun’s cunt. She grabs your shoulder and fills the room with her moans as your bodies smack against each other. You move one of your hands to Dahyun’s ass, giving the soft piece of flesh a rough squeeze and making Dahyun groan. “How does it feel, Dahyun?”

“I love it, I love your cock.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” You nip at Dahyun’s neck, “Who’s my little slut?” You ask teasingly.

“I am, I’m your slut.” Dahyun groans as she bounces on your cock, her modest breasts bouncing along with her. Dahyun’s walls clamp down on your cock as she says that. You figure that she might like the slight degradation and slap her ass.

“Say it again.”

“I’m your dirty slut,” Dahyun moans, a tired expression on her face as she approaches her orgasm. “I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.”

“Not so soon, Dahyun. Hold on a little longer.” Dahyun bites her lip as she tries to hold off her orgasm. As you continue to thrust into her tightening cunt, you feel yourself about to cum. You speed up, moving like a piston in and out of Dahyun. 

“I’m cumming!” Dahyun shouts. You bring her down onto your cock, burying yourself inside her as you cum. Dahyun feels the familiar warmth inside her as your cum rushes into her, painting her walls white as your baby batter makes its way into her womb. She leans forward, kissing you as you both come down from the high. You lay down on the couch, with Dahyun lying on top of you, your cock still inside her. You end up falling asleep like that.

When you woke up, it was early in the morning, and it was still dark outside. A light down the hallway stayed on as Dahyun came back into the living room. She was startled to see you awake. “What are you doing up so early in the morning?” you asked her.

“Eunsoo woke up and started crying. I just finished putting her back to sleep.” Dahyun responds before sitting on the couch. “Last night was…something.” She says, struggling to describe what happened.

“I think we both had a little bit too much to drink,” you tell her, placing your hand on your thigh. Your memories of last night are a little foggy, but there was one thing you remembered. “Dahyun, I’m sorry for last night, but I have to ask.” She looks at you nervously. “Are you into degradation? Because you got really tight when that started.”

Dahyun felt her nerves relax as you asked that question before she began to huff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said defiantly, trying to ignore that part of last night.

“No, I definitely remember you getting tighter when I degraded you.” You squeeze Dahyun’s thigh and lean in. “Who’s my little slut.” Dahyun shivers at your words, and her legs rub against each other. It makes you laugh.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!” Dahyun whines as she smacks your chest.

“It’s a little funny!” You retort as you take hold of her wrists. “It’s nice learning these things about you, Dahyun; now I know how to turn you on.” Dahyun blushes and buries her face in your chest.

“Shut up,” She says quietly. “We still have four hours until work; let's get some more sleep, Mister.” She says, mildly annoyed at you. You stifle a laugh and agree with her as you try to relax and go back to sleep for a little while longer.