#and he just laid there on them for a while

[stellewriites]

sweet kisses in my embrace

cw: noncon, non-penetrative sex, alcohol, messyyyy

it was only the third time you’d been out with johnny after meeting him online and you were pretty drunk.

you hadn’t meant to drink so much, but he’d brought so many cans of sweet tasting gin & tonic you’d not realised just exactly how much you’d had to drink while sat in the back of his truck, star gazing in the middle of nowhere, away from the city.

not your brightest move.

“anyone ever tell you how gorgeous y’are, hen?”

you covered your mouth with a clumsy hand as you giggled, flushed happily and tipsy as you turned to look at him laid beside you in the bed of the truck.

“so stunning,” he continued and leant up on one elbow to hover over you. he cupped your neck and jaw in his large palm and urged you to tilt up slightly to meet his hungry kiss.

he was oppressive from the start, coaxing your mouth open wide enough to fit his tongue in beside yours, moaning and panting even as you tried to shift in his hold to catch your breath at the heavy and sudden onslaught. and though he didn’t gentle you into a romantic kiss like you’d imagined after your first date, and instead bullied his way between your thighs as he bit and sucked at your lips, his actions weren’t mean; just rabid and yearning.

“christ on the cross, yer gon’ kill me,” he huffed, finally giving you a moment to catch your breath. he pressed your foreheads together as he settled his hips close to yours.

swallowing thickly, you pushed uncertainly against his shoulders. “uhm, johnny, can we— could we slow down a little?” he hitched up the bottom of your dress before you’d even finished the hesitant question and you squealed as your legs were bared to the cold evening air, flashing the ravenous man above you up to your hips. “johnny!”

you could feel the thick sewn seam of his jeans press against your vulva beneath the thin cotton of your panties as he rested his hips heavily against yours. you wiggled, pushing clumsily at him with alcohol-weak hands as an uncomfortable heat mixed with the gin in your stomach when he ducked down to kiss you again.

“promise i won’t touch ye,” he whispered into your mouth hoarsely. “won’t go no further yet. ‘s no’ proper, ah know.”

his hips shifted against yours; a jerky, unsubtle grind, and he whimpered when you tried to buck him off, your feet skittering for traction on the blanketed truck bed.

"still in mah jeans 'n' you’ve already got me close," he confessed under his breath with a bashful giggle, sucking on your neck when you turned your face away from his sloppy tongue.

“johnny,” you panted. “stop—”

“keep sayin’ mah name, hen, c’mon,” he huffed and leant into you further, his heavy shoulder pinning you in place as he used his hands to unbutton his jeans and shift them to just below his arse.

the outline of his hard cock was unmistakable now and you cringed at the hot press of it against your centre. with the way he had you pressed flat, his face hovering close, you couldn’t look down to see the growing wet patch on his boxers where the tip of his cock was leaking profusely.

“johnn— uhngg!”

you slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the moan he’d forced from you, his thrusts heavy and pointed.

he grinned and muscled what few centimetres he could get closer between your thighs, hitching one of your legs higher over his hip before letting his hand drift up to your tits. he squeezed meanly, his fingers pinching the perked nipple underneath the thin material while he watched for your body’s reaction dazedly. the way your skin prickled, the hitch in your breaths that pushed your breast further into his clever fingers… the sharp insistent pain took away from the buzzing pleasure of his cock nudging against your clit, but only slightly.

johnny’s forehead pressed to the sweaty skin of your shoulder where the strap of your dress had slipped so he could gaze down at your chest and between your legs while keeping you in place.

you slapped his hand away from your breast with a wince and he dropped it down to his cock and slipped it out of the fly. when you yanked at his hair viciously to try and move him, thinking you’d gained ground, he gave a pleasured hiss and rested up on his elbow, just enough for you to have space to look down and unexpectedly catch sight of his cock weeping over your panties.

your grip grew weak and he rested a broad hand over your lower abdomen to pin you still as he sat up to get a better angle to rub his cock against the admittedly dampening gusset of your underwear.

when you only jerked in his hold, your arms growing laxer by the minute as they pushed against his chest and slipping down to hold his biceps, he moved the hand lower. it rested over your pubic mound and he hooked his thumb over his cock to keep it lined up perfectly as he thrust his hips forward into yours, guiding it to slip over your pussy and nudge at your clit until you started moaning again.

he dropped down to kiss you, holding your mouth open as he soaked up your bitten back noises greedily and swapped them for his own brazen groans.

“want to cum? hm?” he asked with hazy eyes. “want me tae make ye cum, hen?”

he didn’t give you time to answer before his hand was cupping your heat and he chuckled breathlessly at the sticky wetness that had began to soak through the thin cotton barrier.

one finger pushed at your opening, stopped only by the taut stretch of your knickers and he hissed, his hips jerking against the crease of your thigh and groin. encouraged by your evident arousal, he slipped his hand beneath your panties and rubbed his thumb a touch too hard and too fast against your bundle of nerves.

you gasped and your hips jumped up against his hand as you felt your core tighten and your legs shake beside his hips in anticipation.

“johnny,” you whined, and gripped tight onto his shirt. your hips rolled against the thick pad of his thumb and you clenched your eyes closed as your orgasm rolled through you.

johnny’s fingers twitched against your labia, barely holding on to his earlier promise as he felt the flood of wet warmth soak from your opening against his fingertips. he pushed his forehead roughly against yours as you sighed and pulled his hand out of your underwear to grip his cock tight. he ignored your whimpers from the loss of his hand to lazily hump against, no longer able to ride the waves of your distancing orgasm.

he tugged on his cock roughly, angrily, as he panted and moaned against your cheek, the skin becoming warm and wet.

he came quickly with a rabid groan. a half growl that had you shivering beneath him and he aimed his spend to land on top of your drenched panties, to soak with your own pleasure.

he slapped his sensitive cockhead against your clit before dragging it down to push against the soppen gusset and your clenching hole hidden behind the translucent material.

he coaxed out the last of his cum with a firm hand and groaned lewdly at the sight of you beneath him, flushed sweetly, sweaty in the pits, and rumpled beyond measure. he knew his own cheeks were ruddy with exertion.

he slipped his cock back into the confines of his boxers and pulled his jeans back up without closing them. he patted your hip, two solid smacks of his palm, and left your dress hiked up.

“fucking hell, hen,” he huffed as he slumped to the side of you. “so glad we came out here tonight.”

you stared up at the stars without blinking and shivered at the breeze of cold air.

[jazziejax]

𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧’

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Modern AU | Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Black!OC & Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore | Modern AU

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - In which two twin gangsters return home after years in Chicago, to 2003 Jackson, Mississippi. Only to find that the chubby, brace-faced tomboy from across the street has grown into a woman they can’t ignore.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - drug use, swearing

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - something short because I literally have five other Smoke and Stack fics cooking in my drafts

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 2,178+

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢

It always started with noise. Summer in Mississippi wasn’t just heat and humidity—it was loud. Between the swatting screen doors, the bugs flying, kids playing double dutch with mismatched ropes, and the rickety hum of box fans, it was hard to hear yourself think. But for young Juicy, the noise was a comfort… until it wasn’t.

Back in ‘95, Juicy was about eleven, braces still fresh, glasses sliding down her nose every five minutes, and dressed in a floral pattered dress that matches her sisters, though hers fit her more boxier than it did on the older girl. But she didn’t care much about appearances, and it didn’t help that her mama always compared her to her older sister, Sinclair, thin and pretty like the girls in those Jet beauty ads or the ones on the perm boxes. “If only you laid off them pork chops,” was her mama’s idea of encouragement. Her daddy didn’t say much at all.

Juicy found her peace elsewhere—mainly across the street.

The Moore twins, Elias and Elijah—known as Smoke and Stack to others—were about six years older, fast-mouthed, sharp-eyed boys sly grins and problems they never spoke too loudly about. Their father was known around the neighborhood for being the kind of man who left bruises instead of blessings, and their mother was long gone. But the Hall’s took to them like family. Martin, Juicy’s older brother, clicked with them right away over cassette tapes and corner store hustles. Sinclair even crushed on Stack for a while, though he never acted on it.

But it was Juicy—a little awkward, big-bodied, and always scribbling in her notebook—who lingered in the background. She wasn’t really friends with the boys, not like her siblings were. But some days, when things were too loud at her house and Mary, her only friend, couldn’t come out, Smoke would let her sit on the porch with them, passing her a freeze cup and tossing her lazy jokes that made her laugh until her gums showed. Or when Stack would let her old onto him as she rode on back of his bike as he made stops around the neighborhood.

Those little moments were enough. They made her feel seen.

And then, they were gone. Moved up to Chicago when she was fifteen, chasing something bigger—money, maybe, or just a way out. Life moved on. And the city was still as loud as ever.

But in 2003, the block got loud again in their return.

They came back in a long black Lincoln, rolling slow like they owned the pavement. Elias drove, toothpick between his teeth, silver chains glinting in the sun as she rubbed down his waves. Elijah was in the passenger seat, shades low on his nose, hair in tight cornrows. They’d filled out—solid, broad-shouldered men now, still dressed in dark clothes with just enough shine to show they had money. Word spread fast.

Smoke and Stack were home.

First stop was the gas station—for fuel and the liquor store next to it, then the old park where half the benches were gone and the other half were tagged up in Sharpie and knife scratches, looking for their homeboy in his usual spot. A few heads turned, so they dapped up old friends, nodded at familiar faces.

But the real reunion happened on Vernon Street.

Martin Hall was leaned up against his Impala, blunt behind his ear, gold ring glinting. He caught sight of the car before it even parked at the house across the street, and when he caught sight of the men in the car, he instantly grinned.

“Nahhh, I know this ain’t who I think it is.” He shouted, arms already wide open.

Stack stepped out first, grinning, and then Smoke followed. The three embraced like no time had passed at all, Martin falling the men up. Loud laughs, back slaps, the kind of reunion that made neighbors peek through blinds.

“Man, what the hell are yall doing back? And ain’t told a nigga?” Marin asked as he leaned backed against his hood, taking the blunt his girlfriend passed him from her place in his serving seat.

“It was quick to us too, man.” Smoke said, shaking his head a bit. “Them Chiraq niggas different, too much shit going on up there.” He said, placing his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, his baggy white tee hanging from underneath a bit.

“Money was good, though.” Stack smirked, moving his gaze away from the woman in the car that was eyeing him with a lustful glint in her, to look at the against the hood.

“I bet.” Martin smirked. “I could only imagine what you niggas got up to up there. Especially to come back as fly as that.” He said, nodding over to the cars in front of the boys old home as he blew away the smoke from the blunt.

“Shit, us?” Stack questioned. “Look at you. The jewelry, new whip. Seems money down here moving smooth.”

“Mmm…it’s aight.” Martin shrugged, causing the twins to chuckle with a shake of their heads.

“You know we gotta celebrate.”Martin said, standing from the car a bit as he handed the blunt to his shorty in the car. “Whole block been a bit dry without y’all. Let me throw something together for tonight.” He suggested. “Plus, I gotta clean some paper anyway.” He shrugged, trying to ease the blow of an unexpected gathering upon the men.

Smoke and Stack exchanged a glance before both men looked back at their old friend and shrugged Martin clapped his hands with a smirk. “Aight.” He nodded. “Tracy, go call yo homegirls and shit, tell ‘em to come through while I get shit situated.” He said to the girl in his drivers seat. Tracy didn’t even say anything, she simply got out the car and made her at into the house, bit before making a bit of a show of pulling down her booty shorts. Stack and Smoke exchanged another look at that, but nothing was said further.

Plans were made fast. A block party. Speakers, coolers, grills were pulled out faster than the men could think. Now they just had to get everything jumpin’.

The men sat around Martin’s car catching up, reminiscing on old scams, and laughing at things they never got caught for. Smoke lit a cigarette while Stack leaned back, tapping his fingers on the dashboard.

That’s when they saw her.

Juicy.

She came walking up the sidewalk with Mary next to her, both of them laughing at something too far to hear. Juicy was still thick, but this time, she wore it like armor. Curves hugged up in a baby pink Juicy Couture set, midriff peeking under the hoodie. Her wedged flip flops clicked against the concrete with purpose. Her acrylics—French tips—glinted when she lifted her lollipop to her lips. Lips lined and glossy, brown skin smooth and glowing, gold hoops in her ears catching sun. Her sunglasses were perched on her head, the blonde highlighted tresses in a bun, looking like it just came out of a fresh roller set. It was only when she got closer that they could see that she still had the tiniest gap when she smiled, but now it looked like part of the charm.

Mary had her own vibe—low-rise jeans, rhinestone tank and a high pony—but no one was looking at her. Not the twins at least.

It was Juicy who had the street paused.

Smoke sat up a little straighter. Stack cocked his head. “Lil’ Juicy?” He mumbled.

And just like that, the heat of Mississippi summer wasn’t the loudest thing on the block anymore.

The heat clung to the air, and the bass from someone’s backyard radio pulsed low in the distance. Juicy walked like she owned the sidewalk, hips swaying in perfect rhythm with the click of her heels. She was curvy in all the right places—thicker than the girls on TV, but built with softness and strength that couldn’t be ignored.

Smoke and Stack hadn’t said a word yet. They’d gone still the second they saw her. Not obviously—nothing as sloppy as ogling—but they noticed everything. The gloss, the tips, the squinting, whenever from the sun or her needing her prescription. They both could remember how they used to slide down her nose every few seconds.

She no longer looked like the quiet girl who used to sit on the porch with a notebook. She looked like a woman now. A whole one.

Martin lifted a hand. “Juice! Come say what’s up.” He called out, waving the girl over.

Juicy raised a brow as she stopped at the curb, Mary lingering just behind her. “You actin’ like I don’t live here.”he caused, causing Martin to smack his lips. “You know what I mean.”

Juicy clocked the twins as soon as she approached. But her eyes didn’t widen, she didn’t blink. She just popped that lollipop out her mouth slow, head tilted, and said—

“Well, well. Look who finally came home.” All soft like.

Smoke stepped forward, arms crossed, head tilted just slightly. “Ain’t seen you in years, Juicy.” He said, voice a little lower than usual.

Stack nodded. “You done grown all up now.” He said, his eyes subconsciously giving the girl before him a quick once over, one that had him wanting to trace his eyes over her body again.

Juicy didn’t blush—she never did. She just looked between them, slow and deliberate, then popped the lollipop from her mouth and smiled, tiny gap and all. “Y’all look the same.” She said, though they really didn’t. “Maybe taller. Maybe.” She shrugged, not hiding the way she analyzed the men from head to toe, taking in their otherwise plain street wear, which she knew had to still be a decent penny for.

Martin chuckled. “They back for good. Figured I’d throw a little somethin’ tonight. Let the block know.”

Juicy nodded, barely glancing back at the twins. “That’s cute. I’ll see what’s up.” Then to Mary, “Come on.”

She turned without another word, strutting toward the house, and the two men made it their mission to not look at the rhinestones bedazzled on her booty, reading ‘Juicy’ across the span of the area. Mary, however, lingered just a second longer. Her eyes locked on Stack like she was sizing him up for dessert. No shame at all. She flashed a grin that was all teeth and trouble before jogging up the steps behind Juicy.

When they were gone, Martin lit his blunt, shaking his head. “Y’all look like you saw a ghost.” He said as he blew the smoke out. “Was it Mary? Yeah, I know, still freaks me out a bit to see her down here.” He added, not even waiting for an explanation from them.

Smoke leaned against the hood, eyes still on the porch. “Nah.” He muttered, voice tight. “Yeah, you right. Just didn’t expect that.” He said, though he was simply agreeing to save face.

A few minutes later, it seemed as though this party was about to take off as people began to show up, their drinks of chose and blunts in their clutches. This made Martin head inside to grab more beers while the twins stayed posted at the car, quiet now that the noise of the street settled down.

It was silent between them for a bit before Stack spoke up, not even looking at his brother. “Juicy is far from the girl we left them heard back.” Stack said, rubbing the back of his neck, internally questioning himself over the quick flashes of ‘not so pure’ thoughts he had about the girl he grew up with.

“Yeah.” Smoke replied. “She is.”

They didn’t say anything else for a moment, both thinking the same thing—how time had a funny way of flipping the script. How the girl who used to scribble doodles on everything and watch them from the corner of the porch now walked like she didn’t owe anybody her attention.

Smoke remembered the way she used to listen when he talked—really listen—without judgment or noise. How he used to feel stupid for sharing some of his serpent moments with someone so young. How at first he just needed her for an ear, and she levered that, and when he needed some answers, she was quick to help as well. And she had those same eyes. Soft but knowing. That hadn’t changed.

Stack was still thinking about her walk. The way she didn’t give them a second glance, like she’d seen men like them a thousand times. It didn’t bruise his ego—it just made him curious.

“And I peep she’s got a smart mouth on her now.” He finally said, half a smile on his lips.

Smoke nodded, but his gaze didn’t leave the front door. “Yeah.” He muttered, and that’s all he seemed to be able to say, as if she had rendered him speechless.

Stack’s smirked widen, longing his lips as a thought crossed his mind.

“Wonder who she’s lettin’ have it.”

[mattsstarlet]

⋆˚࿔ just the tip ⟢

messing around with best friend’s boyfriend!chris.

you recently found yourself in chris’ car, parked underneath a dark hidden spot just a few blocks away from your friend's house. he laid between your parted legs, pressing soft, wet kisses onto your neck while you rolled your head back against the fogged up window— giving him even more freedom to attack your flesh.

it wasn’t supposed to be this way; sneaking around your friend’s back due to some drunken mistake at a party a few weeks ago, but the way he fucked you and whispered all these little sweet nothings, had you running back to him for more— and as fucked up as it sounds, he loved it.

“i wanna fuck you so bad, baby.” he whispered, rubbing his straining hard cock against your inner thigh, igniting a moan from your pink, swollen lips. “yeah? you want that too, huh?”

you whine, squirming in your uncomfortable position, wanting to feel the hard rough fabric of his jeans against your clothed soaking cunt. your hands creep underneath the cotton fabric of his hoodie, running your fingernails down his bare back in a taunting manner that sends a shiver through his spine.

“we can’t— they’ll know.” you breathe out, letting his rough calloused hands unbutton your top, groaning at the sight of your sheer lacy, purple bra. he slowly pulled the fabric down, chuckling deeply to himself once your tits spilled out, his tongue lightly tracing your perky nipple. “oh, fuck.”

“yeah?” he slyly smirks, closing his lips around the bud and fluttering his eyes shut, humming while he sucks your skin purple. you arch your back, your hands coming up to intertwine your fingers with his brown curls, tugging on his soft locks. “god, you’re so pretty.”

“please.” you beg, whining at the loss of his touch once he pulled away, slipping off his hoodie. he had no shirt under, the sight of his silver chain gleaming underneath the poor light pole made your pussy ache with need.

chris’ veiny hands drop to the metal pull of his zipper, dragging it down with a cocky grin as his gaze locked onto yours— a rebellious, hungry look in your eyes answering all his untold questions.

“just the tip?” he whispers, palming his dick over his blue briefs, hissing at how badly his cock hurt from all the pent up tension. he didn’t need a verbal answer from you, he already knew what you wanted from the way you tauntingly slipped your thong to the side— your wet, glistening cunt on full display for him.

“this why you wore a fuckin skirt, huh?” he scoffs, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of his drawers, his thick shaft springing out, tossing his head back while his hand tightly grips the base of his cock. “mm, baby.”

he lazily drags his cockhead up and down your sloppy folds, humming at the sound of your soft moan, rolling his head back at the feeling of your tight hole stretching around his mushroom tip.

“y’feel so good, babe— fuck.” he grunts, hovering over you to catch your lips in a sloppy, breathless kiss, panting against them. “m’not even all the way in— shit, baby, i need more.”

© 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗍

note ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ wrote this a month ago 😓 very much feeling like going on a hiatus

[minswriting]

POKER FACE - SPENCER REID X READER

About: You’ve been practicing your poker skills and want to try them out in a game of strip poker with your boyfriend. And when you lose, you decide to make it more of a punishment for him than for you.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, inaccurate portrayal of poker probably, masturbation (f), cumming untouched, voyeurism, sore loser!reader, pathetic!spencer, etc.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Border made by @cafekitsune and fic proofread by @beenreidingaboutyou !! A separate post will be created with the AO3 link!! Please comment and reblog to support your creators.

You knew it was likely a bad idea to challenge your boyfriend to a game of poker. Spencer had grown up in Vegas and was a mathematical genius, so really it was inevitable that you’d lose. However, you have been practicing your poker skills for a few months, doing whatever you can to get better. You read online forums, you played with strangers on the internet, and you had weekly game nights with your friends. And at one point, you kept winning.

So you had challenged your boyfriend and now you were reaping the repercussions of your own decisions. At first, the two of you were using poker chips to play the game. But Spencer had suggested making things a bit more interesting and now you were sitting in nothing but your bra and underwear while Spencer was wearing all of his clothes except his socks.

You had a frown on your face as you placed down your cards, revealing four of a kind. Spencer looked smug as a smirk formed on his face. “Sorry, darling,” He exclaimed before placing down a royal flush, ultimately ending the game.

You groaned in frustration, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. “That’s so unfair,” you exclaimed, a small annoyance in your tone but nothing genuine. After all, it’s okay a game.

Spencer pouted at you in sympathy but his eyes were fixated on your chest, you took off your bra. “I’d say I feel bad but truthfully, angel, I do not,” He murmured.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, tossing your bra to the side, revealing your tits to your boyfriend. “I think you should feel bad,” You said, adjusting your position on the couch so that both of your legs were on the piece of furniture. You had an idea and you were going to make Spencer pay for beating you once again in poker.

Spencer curled an eyebrow at you, watching the way you got yourself comfortable on the couch. “Is that so?” He asked, tilting his head slightly, turning his body to face you as well rather than facing the cards on the coffee table. “And why do you think that, sweetheart?” Spencer licked his lips as he looked at you with a small smirk.

You giggled, tilting your head slightly as you looked at Spencer. You bit your bottom lip, bringing your hands to cup your tits. “Because,” You began, massaging your chest. “You can watch me but now, you’re not allowed to touch me.” You said seductively.

Spencer’s lips parted as he watched the way you moved your hands over your boobs, his brain short circuiting. “But-” He stopped himself from speaking when he saw the way you spread your legs. There was an obvious wet spot in your lace panties, showing your arousal. Spencer hated being able to see you but not able to touch you. But he also adored it. It added to the thrill, to the attraction he felt for you.

“You’re so mean to me,” You sighed, moving your hands down your body. “Going full force in the game while I’m just merely a girl who’s learning,” You knew you were being a sore loser. Did you care? Not at all. Not when Spencer was looking at you like you were the only person he’d ever laid eyes on. Perhaps you were.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Spencer said before biting his lip as he watched your hand move down to your barely clothed cunt. He thought about how you tasted. With all the times he’s gone down on you, Spencer knew you were very sweet. You were a constant craving he had, much better than any drug he’s taken. “I could make you feel so good.” He swallowed, eyes fixated on your pussy.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m sure you could,” You replied, moving your panties to the side. “But karma is a bitch, Spencer, and you, my dear, are not allowed to touch until I say so.”

Spencer’s gaze fixated on your cunt, his mouth watering at the sight. He was like a dog in one of Pavolov’s experiments. As soon as he sees your cunt, he’s practically drooling. A small whine left his lips, desperate to taste you. His cock was already achingly hard but he didn’t dare to touch himself. You hadn’t given him permission.

You dragged a finger along your slit, spreading around your wetness. “I’m so wet,” You murmured seductively, looking at Spencer. You took your pointer and middle fingers to your clit and began rubbing slow circles, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

Mutual masturbation was something you and Spencer did quite a bit. Getting off while watching each other, it was thrilling. But you hadn’t experienced getting off while Spencer simply just watches. It was new, electrifying, and incredibly arousing.

“You’re so beautiful,” Spencer said hoarsely, watching as you flicked the bean. It was true, of course. You were the most beautiful woman Spencer had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on.

Your response was a simple moan as you continued rubbing your clit. After a few minutes, you dipped a finger to your hole, teasing the entrance. “If only you weren’t so harsh on me,” You breathed out, licking your lips. “I’d let you get a taste,” You said as you showed Spencer the slick on your fingers from your cunt.

The whine that left Spencer’s lips as his hips bucked into nothing, a small pout forming on his lips. “Please,” he whispered, the words barely leaving his lips.

You giggled, shaking your head no. “No, baby,” you replied, bringing your finger back to your entrance. You eased your finger inside of yourself, moaning softly. You were very wet, to say the least. You moved your finger slowly in and out of yourself, almost teasingly so.

Spencer let out a frustrated noise as his cock was aching against the confines of his pants. He brought his hand to his crotch, about to palm himself when you shook your head. “You don’t get to touch yourself either,” you said breathily. “You can look but you cannot touch.”

“This is so mean,” Spencer replied, moving his hands to grip the cushion beneath himself so that he wasn’t tempted to touch himself. He knew to listen to you. If he didn’t listen, your punishments would be worse. Spencer wasn’t in the mood to defy you today.

“Well you win some and you lose some, sweetheart,” You chuckled, adding another finger inside of yourself. You whined as you curled your fingers inside of you, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. You thrusted your digits, hitting your sweet spot with each movement. “Spencer,” you moaned out as you used your other hand to cup your boob. “If you hadn’t been so harsh on me, you could be the one making me feel so good,” your tone was between a moan and a whine as you pleasured yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer groaned out. He bucked his hips into the air once more, trying to gain any sort of friction but was met with nothing. “Let me take care of you to show you how sorry I am,” he tried to bargain, a pleading look in his eyes.

You shook your head, looking at Spencer with a pleasurable expression on your face. “No. You need to learn your lesson,” you exclaimed. After a few moments, you began thrusting your fingers faster, mewls of pleasure leaving your lips. You threw your head back, feeling that familiar pit in your stomach that drew closer and closer.

Spencer watched intensely, wishing he were the one fucking you into oblivion right now. His cock could do so much better than your own fingers. His fingers could do so much better. His lips were parted, his cheeks flushed from the heat of the situation. He could feel his cock stiffening in his trousers, begging for attention.

“I’m so close,” You whined, biting your lip as you looked at Spencer. His intense gaze fixated on you was what drove you to the edge as your walls clenched around your cunt and your back arched, thighs shaking with pleasure as you came with a loud moan of Spencer’s name.

Spencer let out a groan, watching the way you fell apart from your own fingers. You were such a sight to behold. And without any warning, he felt himself cumming, a whine escaping his lips as a wet spot formed on his crotch. “Oh fuck,” Spencer groaned, unable to help it.

When you both came down from your highs, you looked at Spencer as you removed your fingers from your cunt. “D-did you-“ you stuttered, breathing heavily. “Did you just cum?”

Spencer swallowed, nodding his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raspy. “I-I didn’t mean to.”

You bit your lip, thinking for just a moment before responding. “I think you’ve been punished enough,” you exclaimed before moving to crawl onto Spencer’s lap. “I think it’s now time for a reward, hmm?”

Spencer hummed in response, nodding his head. “Oh yes, please.” He replied, grabbing your hips.

And so, you gave Spencer the ride of his life.

[cameronsbabydoll]

hi gorgeous!! i was wondering if u would be interested in writing a little fic with scc!rafe being forced into a tea party with his daughter?? 🥹

i need something sweet with them!! and im so obsessed with scc its so creative!!

tysm!

“daddy,” she calls from the hallway, “can you come here please?”

rafe’s already sitting on the couch, freshly showered and still tired from whatever work he’d dragged himself through that day. he grunts, not really looking up from his phone. “what?”

“just come here!” she chirps again.

and maybe he wouldn’t normally. maybe old rafe wouldn’t even flinch.

but she’s got her mama’s voice — that lilting, sugar-dipped tone — and that’s always been his weakness. so he groans and pushes up with a sigh. mutters something about “this better not be some stupid game again” under his breath.

and he rounds the corner into her room — then stops dead in the doorway.

the tea party setup is extensive.

a fuzzy pink blanket laid out across the carpet. three plastic chairs, mismatched and short. barbies sitting in two of them. a dozen tiny cups and saucers lined up with plastic pastries. and right in the center, his daughter in a tutu and glitter heels, holding a tiara.

“you sit here, daddy,” she says, patting the only chair that could maybe hold him.

“absolutely not,” he says flatly.

but you’re already in the hallway, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed, smiling so sweet it makes his jaw tick.

“just for ten minutes,” you say, and your daughter is beaming now.

he mutters “fuckin’—fine.” as he sits down — legs cramped, knees almost to his chest — the chair creaking in protest while his daughter places the tiara gently on his head.

“you’re a princess now,” she says seriously.

“i’m a fuckin’—”

“daddy!” she gasps. “you can’t say bad words at a tea party.”

he shuts his mouth. narrows his eyes at you as you silently laugh behind your hand.

ten minutes turns into twenty.

his daughter pours imaginary tea into his cup with careful hands. tells him he has to try the “cake” (which is just a plastic sponge). and when she leans against his arm and sighs, “i love tea parties with you, daddy,” he doesn’t even groan.

he just hums and puts an arm around her, careful not to knock over the barbie sitting beside him. plastic tiara still crooked on his head. socks half off.

and when you peek in a little later, baby on your hip, you don’t even try to tease him.

because your husband — grumpy, tired, and still very much rafe — is sitting cross-legged in a glittery hell of tea cups and doll shoes, letting his daughter braid his hair with mismatched barrettes while he pretends to sip air from a cup the size of his thumb.

and he doesn’t even look mad about it.

[baepsays]

Hi there!!! I absolutely love your Cat-Satoru series (and literally all of your other works too) and I was wondering if we could get a oneshot where Suguru and reader get into a fight so reader doesn’t come around for a while and cat Satoru gets really sad and misses them until they make up?

hi bb thank you sm <3 oh I am loving writing silly stuff about them hehehe I'll try to reflect your vision through my words best to my abilities ^^

Suguru hates fighting with you. Because he knows how petty you are, and how much pettier you can get. Unfortunately for the both of you, he is no less petty.

He holds grudges like he holds a mean grip on your waist in crowded places. So what happens is that poor Satoru gets caught in the crossfire. And the poor thing never understands, despite amazing comprehension of human language, why are you two even fighting in the first place?

If you asked Satoru whether fighting over bedsheets was a valid reason or not, he'd say a big—"MEOW!"

‘NO WAY!’

I mean that day when he woke up under his favourite coffee table, after an amazing nap, to you and Suguru shouting at each other, he just sat between you two with his head tilted and nose twitching.

"YOU CANNOT JUST KEEP USING THESE BLACK SHEETS! I WANT SOME COLOR! AND SILK IN SUMMER IS THE WORST!" You pointed at the bunched up black and shiny sheets on the bed.

"YOU CANNOT JUST CHANGE THEM WITHOUT ASKING ME?" There was a pile of pink cotton sheets right beside the black silken ones.

"Oh. So now I have to ask you before doing you a favour and changing your sheets to better ones?" Sure your voice lowered, but that did not mean you were feeling any more clam than before.

"This is my bed. So yes. You should've asked." Suguru stated as a matter-of-factly.

"Hmm. Alright then, sleep well on your sheets all by yourself." And that was all you said before you headed towards the door with your bag in your hands, with no intention of coming back for at least a few weeks.

What pissed you off more and made that week turn into two weeks, was when Suguru yelled from behind you, "YES I WILL!"

And all that was left in Suguru's apartment was his black silk sheets, your scattered belongings, the beeping noise of the rice cooker, and a very disappointed Satoru who could not run fast enough behind you.

The first few days, Satoru was hopeful you'll drop by at least to see him, but he spent three days by the large windows in the living room, and the bedroom balcony, to realize you're not dropping by anytime soon. And like that almost two weeks were about to pass.

And rolling around in your clothes, or pillows was not working for neither Satoru nor Suguru.

"Meowwwww." Satoru butted his head to Suguru's, who spent his weekend lying on the couch, eating barely anything, and smoking more than what he usually does. Work on Monday was equally shitty, teaching kids suddenly became headache inducing.

"What do you want, Satoru?" Suguru grumbled and changed the show playing on his tv.

"Meowwwww meowmeow." If someone looked close enough, it almost looked like this white fluffy ball of meows was pouting.

Suguru sighed in response, as he has been for the past week, to Satoru's howling meows, and tantrums. "She won't just show up if you meow enough to make my ears bleed."

"MEOW! Meow meowmeow!" Satoru was truly a cat of many abilities, because why is giving relationship advice to his hopeless owner? 'CALL HER! Just call you dumbass!'

"Yeah well she is not responding to me." Suguru changed to another show.

"MEOW! Meow, meow meowmeow." Which translated to something like, 'YEAH DUH! Go over to where she is hiding.'

"Please Satoru. Just go to bed to wait by the window like you always do or something, I'm on the verge of losing it." He just turned the tv off, and laid flat on his stomach, face smooshed in the couch cushions, and ignored Satoru.

"Meow." Satoru jumped off the couch and walked away from Suguru's pity party. 'Hopeless.'

He walked with intention, to find Suguru's phone. Which was charging on his nightstand. Satoru maneuvered carefully from the floor to bed, then bed to the nightstand, tapping his paw all over the phone.

He had no clue what he was doing, all he knew was that sometimes when you were away for work or anything, Suguru would hold the strange box near Satoru and you'd talk through it. And he desperately needed to hear your voice right now, and also convince you to come back.

Somehow Satoru managed to call Suguru's emergency contact, which fortunately happened to be you.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ri-

"Hello?" Your voice sounded groggy from the other side, Satoru was not sure whether it was because you cried like you do while watching sad movies, or like when you played the strays with him and then cried while hugging him. Or that you were just sleepy.

"MEOW!"

"Satoru?"

"MEOW! MEOWMEOWMWOW MEOW!"

"Is everything alright? Where is Suguru? Did you call me by yourself?" You were starting to feel worry creeping into your chest.

"MEOWWWW MEOW." Satoru at this point, what sounded like, was basically crying.

"Are you two ok?" You immediately got off your bed, and reached for your pants and jacket.

"MEOWWWWW! MEOWWWW." Satoru did not mean to worry you, but if his meows were about to get you back here, then sure.

"I'LL BE THERE IN 15 MINS!" And with that you hung up the phone, to grab your keys, then drove down to Satoru and Suguru's place.

When you haphazardly got to Suguru's door, to open it with the key he gave to you—Satoru was sitting there, in front of the door, waiting patiently for you to arrive. As if he understood your panicky scramble, when you told him you'd be there in 15 mins. 

“Meow! Meow!” He quickly tangled himself in your legs, as you stepped out of your shoes. 

“Hi Toru, how have you been?” You crouched down to pick up the cat in your arms, which he gladly obliged. No place better than your arms. 

He felt just a bit more thinner, his fur felt rougher than usual, and the way he was nuzzling and purring in the crook of your neck, it was clear how much your presence was missed. You did not mean to ignore Satoru in the midst of your fight with Suguru, but your pride held you back from opening the front door with the key you were given. Even when you made it that far, you just could not step in. 

Upon walking into the living room, you saw Suguru lying on the couch. His clothes, and hair looked disheveled. There were visible bags under his eyes. And now you could match the pleading tone in his texts, that he's been sending for the last few days, ro his pitiful state.

You cleaned up the living room, turned the tv off, gave Satoru somlove and treats. And went to the bedroom to grab a blanket for Suguru, where you found his bed which was not made, and was decorated with the cotton sheets that started this entire thing. 

So you cleaned up the bed, grabbed a blanket for yourself and Suguru, and fluffy enough for Satoru to sleep on as well—and headed to the couch.

In the morning when Suguru woke up, to Satoru’s butt and tail in his face, he was ready to kick the poor kitty out of his house, when he felt arms tightening around him. He found your face shoved into his chest, holding him tightly, legs tangled up with his, and Satoru’s head resting on yours. 

“You're gonna keep staring?” Your voice rumbled through his chest, as you asked him the question without looking at him. It took him some time to gather the courage to speak to you.

“I am so sorry baby.” His arms tightened around you, and he rolled over to have you lie on top of him, as he nuzzled his face in the crown of your head.

“I know. I am sorry too.” 

“You don't need to be. I was way out of line.” You just needed to understand where he was coming from, Geto Suguru does not function as a unit, but he is learning. He learned how to have Satoru in his life, and he's now learning how to have you in his life. 

“Meowwww.” The moment was broken by a hungry cat’s whining, who required food and your attention. So Suguru once again faced Satoru’s fluffy butt, and tail that made his nose itchy.

“SATORU, I AM SO CLOSE TO LOCKING YOU OUT IN THE BALCONY!” Suguru screamed at him, and went to grab him. But alas, couldn't match Satoru's agile, feline movements.

“Meowmeow meowwww.” And it made you realize just how much more you kissed these two than what you thought. As you sat on the couch, watching Suguru run after Satoru.

‘Catch me if you can, loser.’

ADVENTURES OF CATORU & SUGURU.

a/n: dividers by @/enchanthings-a. not proof read.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

If She Knew.....2

Description: Ellie hears Y/N and Joel having sex and debates on whether to confront them or not.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,357

Part One

Author’s Note: I am taking my own route with this instead of following the series for obvious reasons....

“You know if she was to walk through this door right now, we would never even have to tell her.” Y/N said as her and Joel cuddled. He chuckled, it was the first one of the night. Joel was still upset about Ellie and Y/N was trying to cheer him up. Ellie was somewhere off with Dina and that left them the house to themselves even if she lived in the garage. He stared at Y/N as she laid her head on his chest. She felt him chuckle and that made her smile, “There it is.” She sighed, happily. “What?” “You chuckled, I’ve been trying to put you in a good mood all night after the party.” She said and gave his chest a kiss.

“You could always put me in a good mood.” He told her and she lifted her head with a smirk. “Really now?” She asked and shifted so she was straddling him. His hands went to her hips and rubbed them, her eyes stared into his with this lustfulness to them. Her hands gripped his and moved them under her shirt, she gasped at the coldness of his hands going over her stomach and to her boobs. He squeezed them and her jaw dropped, her head thrown back as his cold hands played with her nipples. “Take this shirt off.” He tells her and she does, throwing it somewhere in the room.

His hands went back to play with her hard nipples, “Joel.” She moaned softly and gripped the headboard behind him. He pulled her closer and his mouth attached to one of her nipples while the other one was still in his hand. She pulled his head closer and sighed. He mumbled something against her tit but she couldn’t make out what it was and was too blissed out to care. Her pussy was dripping in her panties and she started grinding on him. She was angled right against his clothed cock and he groaned against her. His hands gripped her panties, almost wanting to rip them off so he can fuck her but she stopped and removed them before he could.

He watched as she pulled down his boxers, his hard cock sprung up against them. She threw his boxers with her shirt and soaked panties. She gasped as his finger came in contact with her throbbing clit, “You’re Soaked darlin’” He said and pulled her closer so she was right above his dick. Her juices leaked onto him before she decided to line him up with her entrance. Both of them moaned loudly as she gripped him tight. His hands went to her hips and didn’t waste any time dragging her against him. He was deep, so deep inside of her like usual but she never got used to it.

Each drag of her hips a moan left her lips, each time getting more intense. “So beautiful.” He groaned to her. Neither one of them heard the front door, Ellie looking for her sister. She heard a series of moans and her eyes widened when she realized that Joel and Y/N were in the bedroom together…fucking. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Her sister was 28 and Joel was 61, they had a huge age gap. She wondered how long this has been going on and if they would have ever decided to tell her. She was mad, pissed actually, Joel was having sex with her sister and she wasn’t sure how to feel about Joel right now. She left the house and went to the garage to get away from the loud moans and she sighed in relief once she was in the garage. 

Meanwhile, oblivious to all of that, Joel and Y/N continued having sex. Joel now on top of her as her eyes rolled back. His hips were moving fast making the bed squeak. One of his hands was placed on the headboard and the other cupped her blissed out face. “Joel, I’m close.” She whined but he could tell. He grunted and kept up his speed, her pussy was clenching around him. Her moans got louder and louder and his name fell from her lips before she came. Her eyes rolled back and her orgasm came in waves. Just the sight of her cumming was enough to push him over the edge. 

Ellie stared at her desk, zoned out from what she heard. She felt betrayed and lied to, even though she never asked her sister if she and Joel were having sex. She never had a reason to even assume that. Her sister always liked older men but she never would have thought that Joel would be her type. She thought back to all the times that her sister would laugh a little too hard at one of Joel’s bad jokes, when her eyes would linger on him a little longer after he was done talking. Was she oblivious to everything? Had this been right in front of her face the whole time? A knock at the door broke her out of her thoughts, “Come in.” She said and Y/N opened the door. “Hey, how are you doing?” Y/N asked Ellie.

Ellie stared at her for a second, just thinking about the fact that she was having sex with Joel 20 minutes ago. “Ellie?” She asked and she shook her head. “Yeah I’m good.” She lied, she was far from it at this point. “I’m sorry about everything at the party. Joel and I know you can handle yourself.” Y/N went on but Ellie stopped listening after she heard Joel and I. “All good.” Ellie told her and Y/N gave her a smile and clapped her hands together.

It was then that Ellie noticed the ring on her finger. So they weren’t just hooking up, they were engaged? She wanted to scream and ask her sister all types of questions but fought against it. Maybe the ring was for something…but she knew that she was just coming up with excuses because she couldn’t accept Joel and Y/N together. “Tell me about you and Dina.” Y/N teased her and sat down on the other chair in the garage. Ellie shook away the thoughts about her sister and Joel and began telling her. 

“Dinner’s ready.” Y/N yelled into the garage. Ellie had been avoiding them all day, trying not to think about them. It was hard and she wanted to tell Dina but she couldn’t bring herself too, not yet anyways. Ellie left the garage and went to the dining room where Joel was setting the table. She wished that she didn’t promise her sister that they would all have dinner together once a week. She looked at Joel a little too long and wanted to punch him. She bit her lip and sat down at the table.

He wasn’t wearing a ring but she figured that they would try to hide it. Y/N wasn’t wearing her ring either tonight. She smiled at Ellie as she brought the food in, Ellie gave her a half ass one. Joel noticed that Ellie was quieter than usual but he just figured that she was still mad at them. “Okay dinner is done.” Y/N announced as she set down the food. Ellie was always first to grab food but today she just sat there. Y/N looked at her confused, “You okay?” She asked, voice laced with concern.

Ellie looked at her, “Yeah.” She said and got her food. Joel and Y/N exchanged a look with each other. Ellie ate her food while Joel and Y/N got their plates full of food. Ellie would least talk to her sister but she couldn’t erase the noises she heard them make from her head, she couldn’t unthink all the things she’s been thinking about the situation. Y/N was worried about her, the last thing crossing her mind was that she knew about them. Ellie looked at them as they talked and about the future and what was to come. The thought of telling them she knew or hinting at it crossed her mind. What would the looks on their faces be?

[cutielando]

migraine | lando norris

synopsis: in which he helps you with your migraines

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: lando norris x fiancée!reader

my masterlist

The pounding started just behind your eyes, a dull ache that soon sharpened into something unbearable.

You had felt it creeping in all day, that familiar pressure in your skull, but you had hoped it wouldn’t escalate. You should have known better.

By the time the lights in the paddock seemed too bright and the sounds around you turned into an unbearable cacophony, you knew you were in trouble.

The migraine had fully set in, and it was only getting worse.

You had been waiting in Lando’s driver room, sitting on the couch with your head buried in your hands, trying to will the pain away when the door opened.

“Hey, love” Lando greeted you, his usual cheerful voice filling the space. But the moment he laid eyes on you, his tone softened. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t even lift your head, you couldn't bear to do it.

“Migraine,” you mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

Lando was at your side instantly, crouching in front of you, hands gently resting on your knees.

“Shit, I didn’t know it was this bad” he said, his voice laced with concern.

You managed to crack your eyes open, just enough to see the worried furrow of his brows.

“Didn’t want to bother you. You had meetings.”

Lando huffed, clearly unimpressed with your reasoning.

“Meetings don’t matter when you’re in pain.”

The next few minutes were a blur of movement as Lando went into full caretaker mode. He dimmed the lights in the room, grabbed a cold compress, and gently coaxed you into lying down.

“Just try to rest,” he murmured, settling beside you, his hand running soothingly up and down your arm.

You tried to respond, to tell him how much you appreciated him, but the exhaustion from the pain was already pulling you under.

The last thing you felt before sleep claimed you was the gentle press of Lando’s lips against your temple, his voice a soft promise in the dim room.

“I’ve got you.”

♡♡♡♡♡

When you woke up, the room was still dim, the only light coming from a small lamp in the corner.

Lando was still next to you, scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other traced absentminded patterns on your arm.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked the moment he saw you stir.

“A little better, but my head still hurts” you admitted, your voice hoarse from sleep.

Lando frowned. “Do you need anything? Water? More medicine?”

You shook your head lightly, but even that movement sent a fresh wave of pain through your skull. You let out a small whimper, squeezing your eyes shut.

Lando was quick to react. “Alright, no moving. Just stay still” he soothed, his fingers moving to massage slow circles at your temples. “Breathe, baby.”

You exhaled shakily, focusing on his touch. The rhythmic motion of his fingers was comforting, grounding you against the relentless pounding in your head.

“Do you get these often?” he asked after a few minutes, his voice quiet as if he was afraid of making the pain worse.

“Sometimes” you admitted. “Stress makes them worse.”

Lando frowned at that. “What’s been stressing you out?”

You hesitated, knowing that he could take what you're about to say the wrong way.

“Just… everything. Traveling, your races, keeping up with everything while making sure I don’t get in your way” you admitted.

Lando’s hands stilled for a moment before he sighed.

“You could never be in my way. You know that, right? I wouldn't have dragged you with me if I had known it's not good for you" he said, his voice soft and a little concerned.

“I know” you said softly. “But sometimes it feels like I should be doing more to support you”

Lando leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“The only thing you should be doing right now is resting. And from now on, we’re finding ways to help with these migraines, okay? I don’t want you to just suffer through them”

You nodded slightly, feeling a little lighter despite the pain.

“Okay” you said, giving him a small smile.

Lando grinned, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“Good. Now, let’s get you comfortable, and I’ll tell you all about how I embarrassed myself in today’s strategy meeting”

You chuckled weakly, already knowing Lando was going to make you laugh despite the pain.

And for the first time in a long time, your migraine didn’t feel so unbearable.

♡♡♡♡♡

The next day, you were still struggling. The migraine had dulled but not disappeared completely, leaving behind a throbbing reminder of its presence.

Lando, however, had taken it upon himself to ensure you took it easy. The moment you tried to leave the room, he was there, gently guiding you back to the couch.

“You’re not moving” he insisted, plopping down beside you with a determined expression. “Doctor’s orders”

“You’re not a doctor” you pointed out, though there was no real bite in your voice.

Lando smirked, unbothered by your comment.

“No, but I’m an F1 driver, and I know a thing or two about taking care of someone who’s not feeling their best”

You sighed, knowing there was no arguing with him. Instead, you let yourself lean into his side, seeking the warmth he offered.

“What if this ruins your race?” you murmured after a moment, the thought suddenly hitting you. “You didn’t get proper sleep because of me”

Lando scoffed, like what you had just said was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

“You think a little sleep deprivation is gonna stop me? Please, I’ve driven on less sleep than now”

“That’s not reassuring,” you muttered, but Lando only chuckled, pressing another soft kiss against your temple.

“Listen, I don’t care if I win, lose, or crash into a wall” he said seriously. “I just care that you feel better”

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, you forgot about the pounding in your skull.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but Lando heard it.

His arms tightened around you, his nose nuzzling into your hair.

“I love you too, more than anything.”

And in that moment, despite the pain, you felt safe.

Because no matter what, you knew Lando would always be there, holding you through it all.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[mylovesstuffs]

This was an absolutely unhinged delight from start to finish—equal parts hilarious, unholy, and unexpectedly sweet in the most absurd way. The premise alone [hot ghost Jeonghan possessing Seungkwan to meddle in your dry spell] sets the tone for 11k of supernatural tomfoolery, and unhinged yet oddly charming ghost shenanigans. I fucking loved him all the way!

This wad balanced raunchy smut with comedic timing like, there are genuinely laugh-out-loud moments [the puns!! the Jeonghan commentary!!!], but the actual intimacy is still hot enough to make you question your moral compass. Also, the way Jeonghan’s ghost is written is menacingly flirtatious menace energy, but in a way that makes you kinda root for him?? Though I was hoping for a little scene of his in the morning 😔

Seungkwan’s involvement [wow, I'm really saying, 'involvenent when it's actually his fic— 😭] adds this perfect grounding element, bringing a layer of awkward humanity that complements Jeonghan’s menace behaviour—and y/n's reactions just tie the whole mess together with horny little bow lol

If you’re into supernatural crackfics with smut that goes harder than it has any right to, clever writing, and three characters that remain charming despite being part of an ethically questionable ghost-human-possessed threesome… this fic will 100% possess your heart [and other things].

Under the cut contains spoilers and my commentary while I was reading.

Meanwhile, you’re about 99.999% sure your apartment is haunted, and whatever ghost this was, they really liked stealing your underwear. — tf?????

dead pervert is much preferable to a live one.— true, can't disagree with this !

“So you assumed I died without any on? How morbidly perverted of you.” His playful smile widened.— help 😭

"For a flesh-and-blood mortal, you're remarkably unfazed," he observes, his ethereal voice echoing slightly. "Most wouldn't last a day with my...unique brand of housekeeping."— fr. Both are unhinged lol

These past few days, you weren’t sure if you were going insane by agreeing with a ghost, or if he was actually starting to make some sense.— both both

He quietly approached, given that his feet were intangible and didn’t reach the ground, — I love how describe this Jeonghan ghost.

“Well, let’s just say I’ve never been rejected in my life. So.”— I think so, too. 100% agree with ghostie.

“It’s going to feel a bit disorienting at first—like a cold shiver running down your spine. But after a few seconds, your mind will adjust, and it’ll feel like nothing ever happened. My voice will echo in your head, almost like it’s your own thoughts. I’ll let you know when it’s me taking control.”— whoa I love how it is. How ghosts work lmao. Genuinely so interested in ghosts rn.

They came and went so fast, you couldn’t make sense of them—fleeting fragments of his past, perhaps, or echoes of something even older.— I'm honestly very curious of Jeonghan's life, what happened and how he died and all of that.

And now it was going to lead you to get laid.— LMAO YES.

‘I almost thought it was my own heart racing, then I remembered I’m dead.’— Jeonghan, I shouldn't laugh but why are you like this? 😭

‘Wow, thank god you have me.’— 😭 well, I don't have you, who will safe me when I'm, too, pathetically embarrassing myself like yn??

and suddenly, your hands were fidgeting with the hem of Seungkwan's shirt. “I figure it’s a good excuse to steal some of your time before Halloween hits."— oh my god, Jeonghan is such a flirt, such a player, such a pro! The playing with the hen of his shirt??! Omg.

He shrugged, turning to leave with an impish grin. “Hey, roommates catch each other with their pants down one way or another.”— JEONGHAN!!! 💀

He dropped his head in defeat, cute little whines escaping his pursed lips. “Fine, but you’d better be my shield for this, okay, neighbor?”— he's so cute 🥺

Before you fully grasped what had happened in that fleeting moment of clarity, your hand made contact with Seungkwan, trailing lightly up his forearm.— did Jeonghan take over???

‘It was so painful to watch.’ — lmao 😭😭😭😭

Jeonghan guided your hand to brush against Seungkwan's ear, teasingly grazing the tip and relishing the warmth that bloomed between your fingers.— Jeonghan!!! 😭 In a way, it's you seducing Kwan and not yn—

“You didn’t think we were just going to watch a movie, did you?”— bold...

“...yes. God, yes.”— YES SEUNGKWAN YES! YOU'RE MY MAN.

He tasted like a life force, fueling the fire burning in your loins— poetic.

expertly taking you apart to have you whole. All to himself as far as he knew.— oooohhh, I'm sensing something 😏💀

where Jeonghan could feel it as much as you could, and you knew it. He got off on this just as much as you did.— oh my god 😳😳😳

baring an ass so round and full they look like they came straight out of the oven.— I love the description so much 🥲

“Don’t apologize to me, Humie.” — is he back to his, 'human' form? 💀😳

“In the flesh. Well, not my own, but you get the idea,” he quipped.— omg he's in Seungkwan 💀

“I just couldn’t take it anymore, Humie. You looked absolutely ravishing. I had to experience you for myself.”— oh my god why am I giggling so much adheedcjyesfjte.

“You want us both,” he answered plainly. “The human and me.”— yeah I think so too but why is he so confident? 🤨🫢

“especially if we get to do what we did to make me black out in the first place.”— uffff yes please. We agree.

boo-ty call 👻 (m)

Pairing: perverted ghost!jeonghan x cute neighbor!seungkwan x afab!reader Genre: supernatural comedy, smut Word count: 11.1k tags: a lot of puns, human body possession (con and dubcon), threesome by definition if you count a ghost, mention of food, cunnilingus, some degrading (slut), light spanking, unprotected sex Summary: As far as unwanted roommates go, your ghostly companion was one you never anticipated. But when this specter began to assert himself and meddle in your dating life—or lack thereof—you started to reconsider your stance; maybe having a roommate wasn’t so bad after all. Especially if he's helping you get laid. author note: it's sluttober! when did i last write anything and have it posted. that's crazy sorry about that yall, but i'm really trying my best to be more active, but ngl its hard. life really gets in the way and we have to remind ourselves to take a back sometimes, even from our hobbies. Thank you to @multi-kpop-fanfics and @seokgyuu for beta reading and helping me perfect this masterpiece and thank you to you guys for your patience. Enjoy! Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone

You should’ve known better than to find an apartment listing in the same place where people get lied to about the types of dogs they’re buying. To this day, your aunt is convinced her Chorkie is supposed to be pure Maltese.

Meanwhile, you’re about 99.999% sure your apartment is haunted, and whatever ghost this was, they really liked stealing your underwear. It should’ve scared you. It should’ve driven you away and rushed you out to find a newer, less haunted place to live. But it was cheap, fully furnished, and came with a walkable laundromat and a family-owned market with homegrown tomatoes. Nothing could beat that.

You could tolerate it. It was better than mooching off your parents, who ask every five minutes when you’ll get a 'real' job. Living away from your parents was necessary for your sanity and a dead pervert is much preferable to a live one.

“Can you fucking stop leaving the bathroom light on? I get that haunting is your job and all, but you’re not the one paying the electricity bill.”

If anyone could see you talking to thin air right now, they would’ve had you committed.

“And while we’re at it, could you stop stealing the lacy underwear? They’re gifts, and I don’t wear them, but I might someday, so leave me the option!”

The hallway light flickered before it finally stopped and swift air breezed past you in response, but no returning underwear. You let out a frustrated sigh and shove the rest of your dirty clothes into the hamper before proceeding with laundry day. 

You’ve never seen any part of them, yet you’re always aware of their presence. It was creepy at first, but that quickly turned into annoyance when you realized how limited their grasp on the living world truly was—just a bit of theft and light tinkering. It was manageable, but you still felt uneasy knowing you couldn’t change without feeling watched.

“I’ll be back. Don’t piss me off more when I do. It is not my week.”

Not a day had passed since you two became acquainted that he didn’t find some way to bother you, but there were definite perks to living in hell’s best apartment lease. As your feet scraped across the tiled floor, the afternoon sun briefly flushed your skin, and a familiar flutter stirred in your chest as the thought of something popped into your head. Instead of the usual contempt, longing filled your chest as you made your way to the machine.

“What do we have today, m’dear?”

Your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, and you pretended to nonchalantly turn around, as if you hadn’t just spent several minutes hoping for his appearance. “Oh, you know, the usual—interview clothes, some sweatpants, and a few coffee-stained rags.”

Seungkwan’s lips curled into a soft chuckle, his laugh warm as he tossed his own laundry into the machine beside yours. “Sounds spicy. Mrs. Whirlpool is in for a gourmet meal today.”

He said the weirdest, most ridiculous things, but the real mystery was how you still ended up wanting to kiss him anyway. There was something about his easy smile, the effortless way he tossed his dress shirt into the machine like it was some kind of party trick.

He had a knack for brightening the atmosphere as if he possessed a magnetic otherworldly charm. Whenever you arrived, you couldn't help but wish he would be there, transforming the ordinary task of laundry into an intimate little affair—just the two of you amidst a heap of dirty clothes.

You observed him from the side, noting that his stack of clothes was noticeably smaller than usual. This made you question why he would wash such a small load. “Today isn't your regular laundry day. It’s usually Fridays and Mondays, isn't it? Today’s Thursday.”

The second the words left your mouth, you cringed internally. Great. Way to sound like a total stalker. Creep much?

Seungkwan cocked a smile. “I’m flattered you’ve memorized my laundry schedule.”

You laughed awkwardly, scrambling for cover. “I pass by here and just happen to have a really great memory.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, this might sound kind of gross and embarrassing, but I found these abandoned at the back of my closet. They’ve been there forever, and I had some extra change, so I figured, why not? You know, especially since I’ll be gone at the end of October.”

“You’ll be gone for Halloween?” Well, don’t sound too disappointed.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said with a soft chuckle, glancing your way. “Family traditions. Can’t miss them. You know, the usual—handing out candy, our neighborhood haunted house contest, all that.”

“That sounds like so much fun. Way better than my Halloween growing up.” 

“Aw, thanks, but trust me, it’s way more chaotic than it sounds. Kids screaming, neighbors going overboard with decorations—it’s a lot." He shrugged as he folded his laundry, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his tone. “What about you? Got any plans?”

“Um… I’m not sure yet. Still figuring it out, I guess,” you answered earnestly, suddenly feeling like a loser with no plans–which you were by definition.

Seungkwan hesitated, his hands stilling mid-fold, the fabric dangling loosely between his fingers. You could see something flickering in his eyes—a jumble of thoughts swirling in his mind like a muddled cloud, visible in the furrow of his brow. “Oh. Well, um…” His voice trailed off, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if he were battling whether or not to say what was really on his mind.

"What?" Your curiosity spiked, your heart quickening as you waited for him to continue. For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, stretching the already lingering silence.

He quickly shook his head, offering a faint, almost apologetic smile before turning back to his laundry, his hands moving again, but less sure than before. “Nothing. Just—never mind.”

“Oh, okay.” The disappointment weighed on you, heavier than you wanted to admit. You glanced at the washing machines, trying to focus on the steady hum of the cycles, but your eyes kept drifting back to the numbers, slowly counting the seconds until the minutes ticked over, all while the silence between you grew louder.

You finished your load long before Seungkwan could wrap up his, the awkward tension of unfinished business hanging in the air like a thick fog. You glanced at him, hesitating for a moment before mustering a tight smile, trying to shake off the discomfort. “Well, that’s it for me. See you around, Seungkwan.”

He looked up from his laundry, the corners of his lips tugging down slightly. "See you, neighbor," he said, his tone laced with a hint of regret. The moment lingered in the air between you, thick with unspoken words, making it even harder to walk away.

With one last glance at his face, you stepped back, the soft chime of the door ringing behind you as you passed their glass doors.

As you walked  back toward your apartment, you couldn’t help but drop in confidence, thinking to yourself that maybe you didn’t deserve good things like cute laundromat boy. The hallway felt more confining than usual, the walls seeming to close in, echoing the insecure thoughts making rounds in your head.

You leaned against the cheaply painted walls of your cramped apartment, sliding down to sit on the floor with your head in your hands. It was just a childish crush—fleeting and meaningless—yet the thought of him going away scared you more than any real-life danger you'd ever faced. He was the only upside to moving to this part of town, the one thing that made the mundane feel even remotely worthwhile.

As you sat on the vinyl floor, you could still picture the sparkle in his eyes when he first opened those double doors, the warmth of his voice as he introduced himself. What had once been just laundry had turned into something to look forward to, a small break from the routine and a chance to brighten up your day in this sparse town. 

Maybe, if you were lucky, it could turn into a little small-town romance. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if he even saw you beyond the casual pleasantries. Did he just see you as another neighbor, or maybe just a friendly face? 

The familiar flickering light in the kitchen pulled you back to the reality and up from the ground of your haunted apartment. With a frustrated sigh, you turned your attention to your unwanted roommate. “Yeah, yeah, I’m home,” you muttered, trying to shake off the feeling of melancholy.

As you walked toward the living room, the flickering lightbulbs in the lamps followed your path, their erratic dance a reminder of the presence that lingered in your space. Maybe getting rid of them wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It could be a way to finally cut ties with the ghost that seemed determined to remind you of your solitude. You chuckled softly at the thought. Perhaps an exorcism could clear out both the ghost and all the pointless overthinking.

But that was a problem for another day. Rotting in bed sounded far more appealing right now. You shuffled into your room, the soft glow from the streetlamp spilling in through the window, casting faint shadows on the walls as the evening deepened. The coolness of the night crept in slowly, the faint hum of the city blending into the background.

As you sank into the familiar embrace of your blankets, the exhaustion in your limbs finally settled, but your mind lingered for a moment longer. You glanced outside, the dim light catching in the leaves of the trees below, and for a fleeting second were at peace. No ghosts, no old washers or dryers, no obsessive crush. Just sleep.

You sighed, pulling the covers tighter around you, letting the hum of old furnishing–and probably the old pervert ghost–as you drifted off into sleep.

Your rest was cut short by a full bladder, ready to burst. With heavy eyelids, you stumbled toward the bathroom, barely aware of your surroundings. As you relieved yourself, everything felt normal—the creaking of the bathroom door, the sporadic running of the faucet, and the occasional flickering of the lights above, indicating his restless presence.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes with your fists. “This wasn’t an invitation, Casper,” you muttered, irritation creeping into your voice.

As if to taunt you, the faucet suddenly turned on full blast, running wildly before shutting off completely, leaving you with nothing but the simmering annoyance bubbling inside of you. With a frustrated huff, you quickly flushed the toilet and turned to the mirror. The lone reflection staring back at you looked as tired as you felt.

With dark circles under your eyes and a complexion that could only be described as dull, it was starting to feel like you were one bad hair day away from getting "gave up" tattooed across your forehead. And suddenly you were wondering whether you looked more dead than the ghost.

Instead of wallowing more self-pity, you washed your hands under the running faucet. If the ghost wanted to bother you, it certainly wasn’t going to be about your hygiene. You kept that on lock.

You glanced back at the mirror and no longer were you alone. Instead, where your reflection should have been was the unsettling visage of your ghost, staring back at you with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. His pale features were striking, almost ethereal, with an undeniable charm that twisted your gut. Those mischievous eyes sparkled with a playful malevolence.

Your ghost was attractive–strikingly so–and for some reason that made you dislike him even more.

You shot your shared reflection an unamused smile. “Was that supposed to scare me?”

His reflection chuckled, leaning over his sink to give you an unfiltered view of every extraordinary detail etched into his face like a sculpture. “What? I thought I could finally introduce myself.”

“After months of me already living here? I feel the moment has passed,” you shot back, crossing your arms in defiance.

“Well, I had to pass my own judgment, didn't I? Do you know how many coke-huffing, cheese puff-grubbing, athlete-foot-walking slobs I’ve encountered in my place of residence?” He leaned closer, his expression mockingly serious, the flickering light casting playful shadows across his sharp cheekbones.

“May I remind you that those people were renters? If they paid to be there, who were you to deny them that?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Like I didn’t pay when I was alive? Plus, Muriel definitely wasn’t paying, nor was Monty. They were beyond sketchy.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, clearly relishing the chance to air his grievances from beyond the grave. “Now that I think about it, there was definitely some laundry going on around here—and I’m not just talking about your underwear strewn all over the place.”

“Thanks for the reminder. Would you please leave the undergarments alone?” you replied, trying to keep the irritation from creeping into your voice as if you didn’t sound crazy enough talking into a mirror.

He shrugged nonchalantly, the flickering light casting shadows across his smirking face. “I will once you learn to toss them in the hamper like a normal humie. Upside to being dead: no laundry.”

“I don’t have to take this from someone who can’t even wear underwear anymore.”

“So you assumed I died without any on? How morbidly perverted of you.” His playful smile widened.

You scoffed, incredulous at the absurdity of the conversation you were having—with a ghost of all people.

“You know I’m right…I could sense your heart racing the moment you laid eyes on me,” he teased, a playful grin dancing across his lips as his jaw hung slightly slack in intrigue. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the way your breath caught in your throat, as if he were drinking in every detail, alive in the way his eyes glowed with mischief despite their soulless depths.

His ghostly figure was lean and toned, the contours of his form faintly visible like a lingering shadow, brimming with an energy that felt both alluring and infuriating. The flickering light cast an ethereal glow around him, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaws and the way his seemingly wet hair fell carelessly over his forehead. He leaned closer, the air thickening with a mix of annoyance and something dangerously enticing as if he relished the effect he had on you.

“Are you…flirting with me?” You couldn’t believe you had to ask, but the glint in his eye was undeniable.

“It’s not illegal. Not in the afterlife, anyway. Anything goes here.” He leaned back against the sink, bloodless veins pulsing against his forearms, enjoying the encounter more than he should.

“I…need sleep.” 

You peeled yourself away from the mirror, shaking your head in disbelief, and headed to bed without looking back. You slipped through the sheets, found comfort in their familiarity, and sighed, thinking you escaped.

“You know—”

“Jesus!” you burst out, your heart racing as you instinctively clutched your chest. Opening your eyes, you found the ghost looming above you, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. “What now?”

“Walking to a different room isn’t exactly a proper goodnight,” he said, crossing his arms over his spectral chest as if he were the arbiter of etiquette in the afterlife. His expression was mock-serious, and the playful glint in his eyes suggested he found the whole situation amusing.

“As if ghosts even sleep?” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

“No, but it’s polite,” he replied, feigning indignation, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a barely contained grin.

“Is this going to keep happening? You annoy me until I scrape together enough money to move out, or, if I’m not fortunate, end up penniless and homeless,” you lamented, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you threw your hands up in frustration.

“You tell me.”

With a sigh, you shut your eyes again and threw the blanket over your head, seeking refuge. “At least save it for the morning.”

And the ghost did just that—he saved all of it for the morning, better yet the afternoon. Since that’s when you woke up anyways.

“Do people always eat breakfast past two p.m., or is that a recent trend from the last two decades?” his voice called, cutting through the haze of your half-sleep as you started to eat 

“How old are you even?” you mumbled, cereal gnashing between your teeth.

“Old enough to know that you need more than cereal to sustain a healthy human body.”

“Riveting,” you muttered sarcastically, sipping the milk from the bowl. “Next, you’ll tell me that ‘ghosting’ is a real thing in your realm, too.”

“Actually, it is,” he retorts, his presence somehow stronger than it was in front of a mirror, “Happen to be doing it right now. Having some fun.”

“Is that your idea of fun? Stalking me from beyond the grave?”

“Call it what you want, but I’m just trying to keep you company,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. “Besides, who else is going to breathe some life into your dull existence other than someone who’s already checked out of theirs?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a playful huff. “Great. Just what I need—my own ghostly life coach. What’s next? A seminar on the benefits of double-scrubbing the bathtub?

It was meaningless stuff, really. The kind of chatter that filled the air like background noise, a gentle distraction from the world outside your walls. Yet, for someone who was supposed to be dead, he had an uncanny knack for conversation, it only made you assume the type of person he was alive. He could turn the mundane into clear images, painting vivid pictures with his stories about the afterlife—or, more accurately, his gripes about it. Not that you asked for it, but, it was like being told a grand story. Stories you could not for the life of you stop listening to for some reason.

“Okay, ghostie—”

“Jeonghan,” he corrected. “Say it with me slowly. Jeong. Han.”

“Mmh, ghostie! I’ll be back after the laundry is done.”

“No way you’re saving money with how often you—”

“Bye bye, poltergeist!” You cut him off with a wave, stepping out with a load full of laundry.

You had noticed how quickly the days were slipping by, how time seemed to blur when you shared your space with someone—or rather, something—that could actually respond to you in real-time. It was a strange kind of companionship, one that made you forget just how much solitude had weighed on you before.

The passing days also reminded you just how much you needed a breather, to clear your head from this bizarre living arrangement. And somehow, your laundry had piled up, more than it ever should have for someone unemployed who barely left the house. It was odd. Almost like time itself was moving faster, dragging the mess along with it.

“Hey, right on schedule—Thursdays and every other Monday and today’s Monday..”

You almost forgot about Seungkwan amidst all the supernatural nonsense swirling around you, but seeing him brought back memories of your last encounter, and you quickly put on a smile. “Hey there! Look at you, recognizing my laundry schedule too.”

“Thought I’d return the favor since you were kind enough to remember mine. Hope that’s okay,” he replied, his tone light.

You piled your laundry into the machine, carefully measuring out some freshly opened detergent. “It is.”

“Okay… I just want to apologize for being weird the last time we talked,” he said, shifting slightly as he leaned against the machine, his expression turning a bit more serious. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you assured him.

“I just… I don’t know.” He glanced down at the floor, his brows furrowing slightly. “My mind went blank, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled reassuringly. “I get that. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

He looked up, a playful grin spreading across his face. “So you think I’m pretty?”

Fuck. “It’s… just an expression.”

He leaned against his machine, his gaze fixed on you. “Didn’t deny it, though.”

You chuckled, feigning exasperation and mirroring his posture against your own machine. “You’re a lot more cocky than I realized, Mr. Seungkwan.”

“Do you like that?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were left speechless. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as your thoughts bounced from one corner of your mind to the other until finally, they found themselves running down between your legs in a new form of discomfort. “Umm…” 

You turned away for a moment, breathing to steady yourself, gently patting away your very alive heart.

“I made it weird again, didn’t I?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of regret.

You spun back around, shaking your head. “No. No! It just took me by surprise.”

“Sorry about that.” Not sounding all that sorry.

“That’s…more than I’m used to,” you admitted, a slight heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“Thank you?” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound brightening the air between you and making the moment feel lighter and more vibrant. Just then, the machine beeped, a sharp sound signaling that your clothes were done, pulling you away from the heated exchange.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both, but this time it felt different—like the crackling of kindling in the perfect moment when fireflies come out, illuminating the night as brightly as the stars in the sky. You exchanged a quiet glance, catching a glint reminiscent of those stars in his gaze, and for a second, it felt like the universe was telling you, ‘Hey, maybe there's something here.’

When you finally turned to leave, your smile was the biggest you’d ever had. And when he matched yours, it was like you had just won a bizarre lottery. You probably looked a bit unhinged, standing there grinning at nothing while swaying in the damp weather, but you didn’t care. The butterflies in your stomach danced happily, and you found yourself wishing you could hold on to this moment just a little longer, savoring the warmth it brought.

“You look happy.”

Not even the Ghostbusters’ final boss could ruin that for you.

“Cram it, Beetlejuice Lite,” you shot back, because although you’re in a good mood, you relished finding new names to call Jeonghan besides his own.

You hummed to yourself as you folded and neatly put away your clothes, feeling his cool, lingering presence behind you. He watched, like always—probably thinking up who put sugar in your cereal this morning for you to be in such an uppity mood.

“Well, I’ll be. You’re actually putting your clothes away like a functional human being?” His voice oozed mock surprise, but today, it just rolled right off you.

“Yep! Just felt like it,” you replied cheerfully, sliding the last of the shirts into your drawer with a satisfied nod.

“Strange. I thought laundry was your natural habitat now, seeing how often you’re in there… but I guess that’s thanks to a certain ‘living,’” 

You snapped your drawer shut, the sound echoing through the room as you whipped around to glare at him, immediately pulling you away from the happiness you felt not that long ago. “You—”

“Seungkwan, wasn’t it? Cute kid. Didn’t quite peg him as your type, though.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed, heart doing an involuntary somersault. Of course, he’d noticed. He seemed to notice everything, like some twisted version of a nosy neighbor, only this one didn’t have the decency to keep his opinions to himself. You wanted to fire back, but your brain was moving a step too slow, still caught up on the casual way he dropped Seungkwan's name. How long had he been watching you both at the laundromat?

“You’re stalking me outside of the apartment now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My spirit may be bound to this place,” he replied with an air of nonchalance, “but my soul can roam as it pleases.”

“Spirit? Soul? Aren’t they the same thing?”

He tilted his head, giving you a patronizing smile. “Not quite. My soul travels freely, observing everything within a reasonable distance—it’s not tethered to the apartment like my spirit is. My spirit stays here, out of my control.”

“So, you spied on me just because you could?”

"Call it research. Gathering intel." He shrugged. "Besides, it's not like you were doing anything interesting."

"Oh, I'm so glad I could provide you with such riveting entertainment.”

You shook your head, leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind you, only to have Jeonghan pass through it. "You know, for a ghost, you're surprisingly annoying."

"For a flesh-and-blood mortal, you're remarkably unfazed," he observes, his ethereal voice echoing slightly. "Most wouldn't last a day with my...unique brand of housekeeping."

You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, well, I'm not most people."

“So,” he began, “about this Seungkwan guy…”

You stiffened, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What about him?”

“Just curious,” he replied casually, though there was a glint in his eyes. “He seems... nice.”

“He is,” you mumbled, suddenly finding your laundry far more interesting than the conversation again.

“And you like him?”

Your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know,” you admitted, the words almost sticking in your throat. “Maybe.”

“Does he like you?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “…I don’t know yet.”

There was a beat of silence before he offered, “Want some help with that?”

“No. What? How would you even do that?” You narrowed your eyes, already regretting entertaining this conversation.

He started circling you, wearing a grin that screamed trouble, like a cat ready to pounce. “The only time my soul and spirit are truly joined,” he began in a low, conspiratorial tone, “is when I possess a body and take control of their flesh.”

You rolled your eyes. “Where is this going, Bloody Maury? Skip to the part that makes sense.”

He stopped directly in front of you, arms crossed. “Well, if you’re interested in ‘skipping to the good parts,’ I could possess your body. Help you say what’ll win over Seungkwan in no time.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why in the hell would I be dumb enough to let you do that?”

He snickered, leaning in with a smug look. “Because you’re desperate and haven’t slept with anyone the entire time we’ve lived together.”

“…You talk too much.”

“Think about it,” he continued, unbothered by your glare. “You’ve already got a foot in the door with him. You just need a little boost. I can help.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “This sounds like some high-level scheme to take over my body. Then I’ll end up stuck sharing it with a ghost, screaming into the depths of my soul for eternity. Thanks, but no thanks.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve been watching too much supernatural TV. And besides, if I wanted to possess your body for good, I would’ve done it a long time ago. I do have some principles, you know. Consent and all.”

You shook your head, unimpressed. “Nope. I still can’t trust you, ghostie.”

Jeonghan, ever the persistent undead, didn’t know the meaning of giving up—and by now, you should’ve expected as much. And maybe, just maybe, his constant, incessant persuading was starting to wear you down. Sharing the same space day in and day out gave him the upper hand. He knew your quirks, your weak spots—the best and worst parts of you.

These past few days, you weren’t sure if you were going insane by agreeing with a ghost, or if he was actually starting to make some sense.

As you stared off at him, basking in the cool autumn air slipping through the balcony, you started to wonder if his intentions were not as venomous or malicious as you initially thought. There was a strange, quiet sadness in his eyes as if he longed for something he couldn’t put into words. Something that you couldn’t understand even if you tried.

“Am I really so pathetic that the ‘phantom reject’ is willing to help me with my love life?”

Jeonghan glanced at you with mild interest, noticing the way your curiosity had piqued. You sat comfortably on the couch, your elbow propped on the armrest, cheek nestled in your palm, as you observed him. He quietly approached, given that his feet were intangible and didn’t reach the ground, the silence was deafening and he lowered his head to level with you, staring back at you with so much intent it burned to feel his gaze.

He titled his head, brimming with pride. “Well, let’s just say I’ve never been rejected in my life. So.”

“You really think this’ll work for me?”you asked, skepticism lacing your tone.

“Of course,” he replied, with a grin. “You’ve got me.”

You were really considering it—letting a ghost help with your love life. Was this truly insane? Maybe. But it felt like it was worth a shot.

God, this was pathetic. And for once, you had something to be genuinely afraid of. And funny enough, it wasn’t possession. Until, well… maybe it was.

Life had never quite prepared you for this. Standing in your bedroom, surrounded by the overflowing pile of dirty clothes in the corner, you realized you’d put this off long enough—both the laundry and the body possession. You let out a shaky breath, glancing nervously from the mess to Jeonghan. 

His presence loomed, just as insistent as the neglected chores, and you had to steady yourself, mentally sorting through how you’d ended up in this bizarre situation. Laundry? Fine. Ghost possession? Not something you thought was possible. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to assess the ridiculousness of it all.

“Okay, Grim Peeper, let’s do this.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly as you tried, and failed, to shake off the nerves. His movements were deliberate as he approached, eyes narrowing in focus. He watched how the tension gripped your shoulders, the way your breath quickened despite your best efforts to stay calm. His presence felt heavier, and as he took his position in front of you, the air around him seemed to still. 

You could feel the weight of what was about to happen, the looming absurdity of it all. Jeonghan, who usually exuded a kind of careless charm, now looked oddly concentrated, as if he were preparing for something he rarely had the chance to do. His expression, though still smug, carried a certain gravity. But in all honesty, he wasn’t really sure what to expect.

“I’m about to make contact,” Jeonghan said, his tone unusually serious. “It’s going to feel a bit disorienting at first—like a cold shiver running down your spine. But after a few seconds, your mind will adjust, and it’ll feel like nothing ever happened. My voice will echo in your head, almost like it’s your own thoughts. I’ll let you know when it’s me taking control.”

His hands hovered over your shoulders, a ghostly chill brushing against your skin. For a split second, there was something oddly reassuring in his dead, sullen eyes. "You'll be okay. I promise, nothing will go wrong."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down. "Alright, I trust you." Then you glanced at him, a small smirk forming. "But seriously, what do you get out of all this? Helping me, I mean. I won’t judge... Boo-dini."

He let out a short laugh, tilting his head slightly as if considering how to answer. “I…want to remember what it’s like to feel alive again. See what I missed out on.”

“That’s fair,” you nodded, understandably.

“Expected more from me, humie?”

You shrugged. “Thought you’d have a deeper back story, but that’s fine.”

Jeonghan scoffed softly, giving you a teasing smirk before he began. In an instant, he was there—and then he wasn’t. The shift was so sudden it left you reeling. Just as he’d predicted, a shiver rippled down your spine, cold and unsettling. But what he hadn’t mentioned were the flashes of unfamiliar images that flickered behind your eyes, moments you’d never lived but somehow felt were real.

They came and went so fast, you couldn’t make sense of them—fleeting fragments of his past, perhaps, or echoes of something even older.

‘How are you?’ he voice said, interrupting your thoughts.

You quietly nodded, reassuring him.

‘Very well then. Your lead, dear host.’

You wandered into the laundromat with your overstuffed hamper, feeling a bit like a laundry pirate hauling treasure—or dirty socks—across the high seas. You’d made the executive–and rightfully cowardly–decision to skip your usual laundry day, and now it was leading up to this very moment. Jeonghan stayed mostly dormant in your body as you claimed an empty machine, the back of your head itchy knowing another being was sharing your body that has led you this far. And now it was going to lead you to get laid.

It was like clockwork. Any minute now, Seungkwan would stroll in, and Jeonghan would take over, handling all the nerve-wracking nonsense you'd rather avoid.

‘Don’t be nervous,’ his voice echoed, ‘I almost thought it was my own heart racing, then I remembered I’m dead.’

“Sorry,” you muttered softly under your breath, ignoring the supernatural’s attempt at a joke.

‘It’s fine. Everything will be fine.’

“I know,” you sighed.

“You know what?”

You spun around, facing Seungkwan, who’d entered with that casual, friendly energy you always admired. He smiled, raising an eyebrow at your startled expression.

"Seungkwan!" you blurted out, trying to push the embarrassment down as far as it would go.

“Hey, neighbor,” he greeted, already moving toward his machine, gently separating colors from whites. “How are you?”

“Good—Great! Why do you ask?”

He gave you a light shrug, glancing up with a playful grin. “Just sounded like you were talking to yourself.”

“Well, who doesn’t?” you quipped, trying to play it cool. “Sometimes thinking out loud helps clear the head noise, right?”

“Right,” he said, stretching with an amused smile, clearly entertained by your odd, jittery energy.

‘Wow, thank god you have me.’

You quietly cursed Jeonghan in your head for making this harder than it needed to be, before mustering up the nerve to approach Seungkwan, fingers nervously fidgeting.

"Hey, so... you mentioned you were going to be out of town for Halloween, right?"

Seungkwan looked up, surprised and then grinned. "You remembered! Yeah, what’s up?"

You hesitated for a second, feeling Jeonghan’s smug presence lingering somewhere in the back of your mind. "I thought..."

Seungkwan leaned casually against the now-humming washer, hands tucked in his pockets, his curious gaze fixed on you. "Yeah?"

You tried to keep your cool, but the moment the words "we could do something" left your mouth, your brain started to short-circuit. Seungkwan turned to you with that easygoing grin of his, waiting for you to elaborate, and you could already feel the awkwardness creeping in.

Jeonghan’s voice chimed in, ‘You’re fumbling. Let me take over.’

Before you could protest, the familiar shiver ran down your spine. Suddenly, everything felt distant—your limbs moved, but you weren't fully in control anymore.

Jeonghan’s smooth voice came out of your mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was thinking, maybe we could hang out before you head out of town? You know, catch a movie, grab a drink, something low-key, say my place?"

Seungkwan's smile widened, surprised but clearly intrigued. "You want to hang out with me?”

Jeonghan, still in control of your voice, replied effortlessly, "Of course." Before you could even process what was happening, your feet began to move on their own, gliding across the floor like a spy on a secret mission. Jeonghan closed the distance between you and Seungkwan, and suddenly, your hands were fidgeting with the hem of Seungkwan's shirt. “I figure it’s a good excuse to steal some of your time before Halloween hits."

Your heart raced, and you mentally screamed at Jeonghan, Okay, okay, that’s enough! I can take it from here!

But he was on a roll. "Tomorrow?" Seungkwan asked, leaning casually against the washing machine, though the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot betrayed his nervousness. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

"Tomorrow’s perfect," Jeonghan responded smoothly, maintaining the effortless flow of the conversation. "I’ll text you the details."

With each word, your body felt like it was moving on autopilot, and while you were horrified by the lack of control, a part of you couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. Jeonghan was nailing it, but the closeness to Seungkwan was almost too much to handle.

Suddenly, Seungkwan playfully entwined his fingers with yours, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through your hand, as his grin graced his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, savoring the warmth of the connection. When you opened them, you found an unreadable expression on his face—intense and smoldering. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, his voice slightly softer now. “Looking forward to it.”

The way he held your gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you faded into a soft blur. Even though Jeonghan was in control, your thoughts tangled with the heat of the moment, coursing through you like a fever. 

As soon as Seungkwan turned away to his laundry with a lingering grin, Jeonghan released control, and the reins were back in your hands. You blinked, still a bit disoriented from the possession.

‘See? Easy,’ Jeonghan’s voice echoed smugly in your mind.

‘You’re impossible,’ you shot back.

‘But effective.’

That night, you tackled all the prep work you knew you needed to get done. It had been a while since you’d done anything like this, and you definitely had some dust bunnies and spiderwebs in your attic.

“Humie–oh.”

“Jeonghan! What the hell?” Your eyes flew open as you scrambled to pull the shower curtain over your bare legs, the chill of the water sending a shiver up your spine from the products strewn haphazardly at the edge of the sink. “Do you fucking mind?”

“Well, well. Look at you, all cleaned up. At least yourself, anyway. Can’t say the same for the bathroom floor—or that mountain of grooming products over there.”

You gripped your makeshift cover-up a little tighter, groaning in frustration. “Privacy, please! I barely have any as it is.”

“I’m just saying, I’m proud of you. Now, if you manage to sweep up after, I might even give you a round of applause.”

“Out!” you snapped, glaring.

He shrugged, turning to leave with an impish grin. “Hey, roommates catch each other with their pants down one way or another.”

If you weren’t already a bundle of nerves, Jeonghan was getting far too comfortable for your liking. Leading up to that night and the big day, he had been dishing out advice on everything from what to wear to what movie to play, right down to critiquing the meager food stock in your fridge.

“That’s it, you need to go grocery shopping.”

“I can't afford that right now!”

“Just get Instacart. I don’t care. This apartment is as bare-bones as it gets.”

“I have popcorn, soda, and some chocolate for Halloween when I'm giving them out.”

“First of all, popcorn isn’t actually food. Second, prebiotic soda doesn’t count as real soda. And if you can get chocolate, then you can definitely manage to buy some real groceries.”  

But just as you were about to respond, luck decided to abandon you with a sharp knock at the door. “No time!” you hissed, “now scr—oh, you’re already gone.”  

One moment he was there, and the next, he had vanished. Now, it was all on you, and nothing felt more nerve-wracking. You tugged your shorts down just enough to cover the rest of your bottom, anxiety buzzing in your chest. Your hand hovered over the doorknob as you took a deep breath, trying to muster some confidence before swinging it open to reveal who was waiting outside.

“Seungkwan, hey!”  

“Hey!” he grinned, his Halloween-themed vest adding a playful touch to his outfit as he juggled a couple of bags in his arms. “You didn’t ask, but I thought I’d surprise you with some food. Pumpkin-spiced spaghetti and meatballs.”  

“Oh, uhhh…”  

He burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just messing with you! It’s actually butternut squash gnocchi and some stuffed peppers that look like pumpkins.”  

“Oh, thank God! That sounds amazing.”  

“Yeah, it’s festive without going overboard.”  

You nodded in agreement, feeling a warm rush of relief. “Come in.”  

As you stepped aside to let him in, you couldn’t help but notice how wholesomely he was dressed compared to your casual attire. Suddenly, you felt a pang of self-consciousness.  

“I like your sweater,” you said, trying to mask your growing insecurity.  

He looked down, a hint of modesty crossing his face. “Yeah, I think it’s just the right amount of festive, but—”  

“It’s festive but not overboard,” you responded, playfully tossing his words right back at him.  

He grinned, “Exactly!”  

You smiled back, feeling a wave of warmth as Seungkwan's presence began to calm your nerves. As he settled into the familiar space of your apartment, you couldn’t help but discreetly scan the room for any signs of your ghoulish roommate. Half-relieved to find nothing, half-disappointed that your spectral “backup” was nowhere in sight, you let out a quiet sigh. And now it was just you—and the human you actually invited in.

Hesitantly, you eased into the spot next to him on the couch, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. Your hands were jittery as you picked up the remote, scrolling through the movies you’d lined up, your mind racing to figure out what to do next. 

You glanced at him, hoping for some sort of sign or direction, but the words caught in your throat. The longer you scrolled, the more painfully aware you became of the silence, as if it only heightened the nervous tension taking over your body, weirdly missing Jeonghan and how flawlessly he executed what he did yesterday.

"So, movies," you said, aiming the remote at the TV.

"Movies," he echoed, mimicking your tone.

“I mean,” You raised a brow. "What do you have in mind? And there is a right answer."

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, I love Halloween, but..."

"But?" you pressed, leaning in slightly.

"I... really can’t handle scary movies. Halloween Town is probably my limit."

"Halloween Town? The kids’ movie?"

"Hey, don’t knock it. They had great graphics!"

"They had awful graphics!" you shot back, incredulous.

He grinned, half-joking but clearly standing by his point. "Yeah, now. But for its time?”

You shook your head in playful disbelief, unable to hold back a smile. “You’re ridiculous. But fine, your choice.”

You were left with very few options. Seungkwan had suggested a few festive, family-friendly titles, but you managed to persuade him to consider a couple of mild thrillers—some stupid but perfectly on theme.

“The zombie version of Twilight? Seriously? Zombies?" he repeated, stressing the idea with disbelief.

You shrugged, smiling from his reaction. “You might like it.”

He dropped his head in defeat, cute little whines escaping his pursed lips. “Fine, but you’d better be my shield for this, okay, neighbor?” 

The movie began to play, the take-out boxes popped open, and your nerves were on high alert, vibrating like something else does on a normal Friday night for you. Except now, it was just you and the incredible realization that the man you're very much interested in was mere inches away. You were a fucking wreck.

Surprisingly, Seungkwan was genuinely enjoying the film, finding unexpected humor and charm in the cringeworthy blockbuster. His laughter was soothing and infectious, gradually easing your nerves until you started to feel normal again. Why were you like this?

Wait, you felt normal again, but what was normal?

Before you fully grasped what had happened in that fleeting moment of clarity, your hand made contact with Seungkwan, trailing lightly up his forearm. He immediately turned to face you, and your eyes locked, but suddenly they felt as if they belonged to someone else as if you were watching a different kind of film—a film where you were a separate character, experiencing everything from an alternate reality.

“Seungkwan,” your voice spoke, sounding foreign and distant as if someone else were taking control. Jeonghan? 

‘It was so painful to watch.’

Jeonghan guided your hand to brush against Seungkwan's ear, teasingly grazing the tip and relishing the warmth that bloomed between your fingers.

“Hey,” he replied, his nerves speaking for him. “Is something wrong?”

A low chuckle escaped from the depths of your throat, echoing Jeonghan’s playful menace. “You didn’t think we were just going to watch a movie, did you?”

Seungkwan audibly gulped, his eyes darting around as anxiety crept in. “We aren’t?”

“What’s the matter?” Jeonghan leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Seungkwan’s ear. “Where’s that confidence you had yesterday?”

Seungkwan suddenly tossed a pillow onto his lap, speechless and blushing fiercely. “Sorry,” he stammered, caught off guard. “I never anticipated—”

“Oh, really? You never expected to do something other than watching movies?” Your hand gently cupped his cheek, and you could feel Seungkwan melt into your touch with a gentle whimper.

A delighted sigh escaped you, fueled by Jeonghan’s newfound confidence coursing through your veins as your thumb traced the curve of Seungkwan’s Adam’s apple, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

“You didn’t think for a second, I’d–you know–keep the night as is, did you?”

He softly groaned in his throat, feeling the tension seep inside him. “Are you suggesting?”

“I don’t want to just watch movies with you, Seungkwan. It’d be more fun to make our own. Isn’t that right?”

“...yes. God, yes.”

He leaned in, cradling your face in his hands, and pressed his lips to yours in a swift, hungry kiss, sending a surge of electricity through you as your tension unraveled in waves. His weight dipped against your body, pinning you against the rough tweed of the couch. His soft moans mingled with your breaths, muffled yet threatening, as if he were desperate to let loose and explore the desire in his heart while you were within reach.

‘That’s it.’

Your hand held the back of his head, catching strands between your fingers and tugged, ravaging his lips as if it’d be the last time you’d get a chance. You weren’t sure when Jeonghan gave you back your control, but in the heat of the moment, none of it mattered.

He tasted like a life force, fueling the fire burning in your loins and the fire kindling in your stomach; he had you wanting more with every passing second. His hands grabbed you recklessly, throwing his weight against you and squeezing your flesh until it was tender and malleable in his hands. This wasn’t something to unfold on the couch, you thought—not when a big, inviting bed lay just a few steps away, calling for you.

Your feet regained enough feeling to guide you off the couch, and before you knew it, you were stumbling toward your room, feverish and driven, with no thought of turning back. Your hands found his clothes, teasing beneath his holiday vest and up his torso, admiring the smooth flush of skin that graced your senses. He gasped, succumbing to your excitement and leaned into it, falling seamlessly into your rhythm.

“Didn’t want to stretch this, but,” he pulled the vest and shirt beneath over his head, tossing them aside in the corner. You let your hand linger longer on his body, running along the curve of his spine as he pulled you closer.

Seungkwan grasped your waist, savoring your lips with gentle strokes of his tongue before lifting you from the ground and onto the bed. Your bodies crushed against one another, peeling off articles of clothing one piece at a time until you were almost bare, expertly taking you apart to have you whole. All to himself as far as he knew.

“Seungkwan,” you called out in pleas, hands cradling the back of his neck as his hair fell over his eyes. “I want you so bad…”

“You’re telling me,” he managed to breathe out,  gripping your underwear at its hem and scrapping it over your hips as he pulled them down. “I’ve thought about you ever since I met you.”

Your heart bloomed in your chest, pleasantly startled by his confession. Your hands ran through his hand, pushing them over his forehead despite knowing they’d only fall back in place. “You were always so…friendly.”

He smiled, pressing it against the corner of your lips and decorating your cheeks and jaw with kisses. “Yeah. I always hoped that we’d be more than just friendly.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” You pulled him back into a lip lock, parting your legs to give him access.

‘Look at all the fun you’re having.’

Jeonghan was like a wandering whisper, weaving through your thoughts as Seungkwan enveloped your senses. Seungkwan’s hands were on your body, touching what’s yours and making it his, where Jeonghan could feel it as much as you could, and you knew it. He got off on this just as much as you did.

‘Feel him rubbing that pretty pussy of yours.’

“So wet…” Seungkwan said with ache, sounding like he was pleading.

His digits found your sensitivity and thumbed over your clit, stimulating you until your voice rang but the last thing you were doing was speaking. You became fluent in moans, fluid in body language, and perfect in Seungkwan. Your breath dragged on, panting against him as your leg hooked to his side, holding him with urgency.

‘So fucking horny…you were begging to be fucked, hmm?’

You couldn’t help but nod, hand lowering to find Seungkwan’s raging erection just within reach. He softly gasped, thrusting into your touch as you held his shaft, stroking his length that felt so full in your hands. So stiff, yet warm to the touch, almost tasting the tension on your tongue. 

‘Look at that size, huh? Imagine how that feels in you. Stretching your pussy and making you feel so full? Doesn’t that sound amazing?’

“I need you in me Seungkwan.” You begged in desperate pants, gripping him by the forearms. “I want to feel you inside me.”

There was a certain eagerness in his eyes, the kind that said he would do anything and everything for you in a heartbeat and succeed. You weren’t dealing with any average guy that wanted to get off. “Fuck,” he whispered, before lifting his upper body, putting himself on full display.

His physique was magnificent in every way, tantalizing and captivating like nothing you’ve ever encountered. You had an inkling of what he looked like under all his clothes, the veins always so prominent on his forearms and hands when he strained to reach something on a shelf, the line of his back when his lifted shirt revealed just a sliver of skin, or his wide hips, baring an ass so round and full they look like they came straight out of the oven. Never have you ever wanted to run your hands over something, nor have you ever wanted to sink your teeth into something. Yet, here was Seungkwan: utterly delectable.

Seungkwan dragged you by the ankles, moving you effortlessly as he angled himself between your legs, your molten heat practically dripping at the sight of him. His groan bounced off the walls, hand coming over your inner thighs and gently massaging your skin. As his kisses started to pepper over your legs, you felt your pussy physically throb, damned to eternal craving.

“You look like heaven,” He cried against your thighs. “Any protection?”

“It’s right–oh.” You picked up a rubber conveniently left at your nightstand, then handed it to Seungkwan. ‘You‘re welcome.’

He set it aside with a smile and instead of putting it on, his face fell on your heat. He tasted you like it was worship; the dance of his tongue was his prayers, while your response flowed like a cascade of blessings. You whined when you felt him pursed around your clit, teeth barely grazing you as he sucked down like you’re the last bit of syrup in a dessert.

At the same time, his eyes glazed over to yours, a hand hovering over your chest, inaudibly asking permission, and when you gave him a wordless nod, he grabbed handfuls of your breasts. He kneaded you between his knuckles, rolling your buds between his fingers, and having you surrender to his chase.

“Seungkwan, please…”

Seungkwan’s eyes glimmered with pride, a sultry testament to the depth of his exploration. The longer he ventured, the more you found ogasmic relief, feeling every ounce of his efforts and every ounce of his pleasure. You held him by his hair, leg anchoring over his back, feeling his tongue massage your inner walls. His voice vibrates inside you, somehow stealing your breath, and filling you with utter euphoria. 

‘You feel that? How much he wants you? How much he craves you. He’s been waiting for this day. And you should reward him. Don’t you think?’

You tugged him up, watch him gasping for air, replace one pair of lips with another. You flipped him on his back, gaining momentum, and relishing in the power of control, and swallowing his gasps. You aligned the hilt of his cock towards you, ensuring you wrapped it protection before it sat between the slit of your folds. 

Seungkwan tilted his head back, his eyes glistening with desire as he admired you, his gaze revealing his thoughts like an open book.  "You're so sexy," he murmured, the words spilling out without hesitation. While his look said it all, hearing it felt like a heated rush of affirmation, and it made you want him more.

You pushed his length in you, feeling his size pulsate through you, and a moan managed to pass through your lips. Shivers ran down through you, goosebumps pebbling your skin, and you realized the raging presence of Seungkwan was going to be the death of you. As he rocked inside you, he held your hips in place, guiding your form up and down on lap, adjusting to your squeeze, and adjusting to how it contracts. “Oh my god, please, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Just like I wanted,” You teased. 

Your lips brushed against his neck, grazing your teeth over his skin before making passionate kisses to his neck, grinding down on his body until there isn’t a hint of space between your bodies. You were growing weary–albeit needy–chasing a high that was so close to be conquered. You felt it, Seungkwan felt it, and damn well Jeonghan felt it. You needed more, just a little more.

Suddenly, the air was knocked out of your lungs, as if something vital had escaped from within you, and your movements were put to a halt. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, pushing the hair way from your face. “Not sure what happened. I promise–”

“Don’t apologize to me, Humie.”

You heard his voice—or rather, an echo of Jeonghan’s voice—calling from below you, and as you met his gaze in Seungkwan’s eyes, your expression widened in shock. “Jeonghan,” you declared menacingly.

“In the flesh. Well, not my own, but you get the idea,” he quipped.

You nudged at the body beneath you, careful of not hurting the host. “Get out of this poor human’s body right now! What happened to consent?”

“Oh, he’s very much consenting to the thrill of this level of intimacy,” Jeonghan replied, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

“Not when it involves a literal ghost!”

“Relax, he won’t remember a thing. My spirit won’t let him. All he’ll recall is the good time he had,” the body thief winked playfully.

“Bullshit! Do what’s right and let the boy go.”

“But I am doing what’s right.” His grip tightened around your hips, pushing Seungkwan’s cock deeper in you as if it was possible and ebbing weak moans from as he pulled you closer, a wicked smile dancing on his lips. “So right.”

“J-Jeonghan,” you stammered, your pulse quickening.

“I just couldn’t take it anymore, Humie. You looked absolutely ravishing. I had to experience you for myself.”

Your head was screaming all kinds of denial, but your body thrived off his confidence, his energy was flowing through you, splitting through you and hitting a spot of pliancy. This was so wrong. “This…this is violating…for him…”

“But you love it, don’t you? It’s like a wicked thrill, a tantalizing pleasure that feeds your deepest, most tumultuous desires.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the pulsating cock rocking your very core. “And what kind of desires is that?”

“You want us both,” he answered plainly. “The human and me.”

You shook your head, fingers tightening around Seungkwan’s shoulders in a desperate bid for security as you fought against Jeonghan’s seductive temptations. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Then, why don’t you get off of me?”

“It’s Seungkwan I can’t get off of,” You clarified.

You could recognize Jeonghan’s smile, even though it was plastered on Seungkwan’s face—so conniving, so devilish. It exuded an intoxicating power that was inhumane, but irresistible. “But it's me you’re riding–and fucking hell–you look so good doing it.”

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, pleading for release from his coercion, but as you feared, mercy eluded you entirely.

“Yes,” His palm rode up your body, his lips parting in haughty confidence. “Beg for me, beg for me to fuck you full.”

“...Fuck it. I want you to fuck me full.” You accepted him, feeling the tension of the cock inside you, ripple waves straight into your heat. 

Mindlessly, you accepted his domineering hand that landed on your mouth, feeling it travel past your lips, parting way with his thumb. You wrapped your lips around his digits, sucking them like candy, and the shame that once enveloped your paradoxical feelings dissipated, leaving only a deep hunger in its wake. 

Whether it was Jeonghan or Seungkwan beneath you, it was all true to its very core. You had an undeniable infatuation for your cute neighbor and a strange fascination with the handsome ghost. The connection you felt with both was more than palpable, leaving you with an unexplained frenzy of emotions that would require extensive therapy. You knew the logical choice was the one who was alive, but you had never considered that you could have both—especially not in such a chaotic, unorthodox three-way.

“Look at what a slut you are for us, your lips so perfect wrapped around these slender fingers of his.”

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” you quietly muttered to yourself, grinding harder, sucking Seungkwan’s fingers deeper, and gradually succumbing to Jeonghan’s demands.

Jeonghan let out a deep, rolling laugh that resonated from Seungkwan’s core, a sound so rich and dark it sent a momentary unease through you. “You’re simply giving into your desires, why fight it?”

“You damn well know why,” you spat out his fingers and gritted your teeth.

“Now that’s not nice,” His hand covered the shape of your ass, cupping them in his palms, “Do I need to show you how to be nicer to me?”

“Jeonghan,” you groaned, feeling his digits dig into your flesh as he spread them apart. 

“What’s that, baby?” he experimented, “Looks like I have to make this a teaching opportunity after all? Because you can’t show your gratitude?”

“Jeonghan, please.”

“Well, if you insist.” With an unexplainable, arcane, supernatural force, the dynamics were switched and Jeonghan had you on your stomach, ass conveniently placed in from of him. 

“Jeonghan!”

"I always knew you looked good from every angle, but wow—this one is something else." His hand glided over your curves, Seungkwan’s cock splitting down your divide, you grasped your thirst.

Anticipation was wreaking havoc on your sanity, leaving you in a deafening silence as you waited for Jeonghan to make his move, impatience following. “Will you just–”

A hand clashed against your backside, your skin stinging from impact, and relieving you from a ched yelp. Jeonghan braced you against a groin, the erection nudging at your skin. “So needy,” he chuckled. You felt the tip tease along your slit, eventually filling you up in that familiar way.

You whimper, the size still enticingly foreign, and back into his weight, feel yourself travel all the way down to the base.

“And impatient,” Jeonghan softly groans, grounding himself to you in careful, yet sharp thrusts.

You balled your sheets into fists, your voice muffled as you buried your face in a pillow.

He chuckled against his skin. “That good?”

“Y-yes,” you helplessly whispered.

He slammed down on you, releasing a squeaky spring sound from the bed, both embarrassing and strangely arousing. “Even when I do that?”

“Yes…more please…”

Jeonghan repeated the move, finding a steady rhythm, and watched as your skin and flesh recoiled back against him. He could feel his host basking in the intensity of this pleasure, tears swelling his eyes as your moans echoed in his ears, memorizing from the decibels your voice reached, to the way you looked from behind, and even how the flesh of thighs spilled when you collapsed wearily on the mattress.

“Insane,” He said in hushed whispers.

“Stop it,” you whined.

“Stop what? Showing you how fucking perfect you are taking my cock?” He grunted.

You pressed your lips in a firm lip, clawing down on the bed as your core tightened, every pound drilling into you, giving into his indulgence and taking you along with him. He made every thrust count as the echo of skin slapping faded into the background.

“Oh please, help me cum.” You begged. “Please, please, please…”

His pace quickened, his rhythm erratic. “Yeah, you want your cum to coat around my cock like a good little whore.”

“Yes, Jeonghan please, just give it to me.”

“You asked, and you shall receive.”

Finally, he bottomed out into you, unleashing the reins he held to prolong this moment and cut them lose. Your body was no longer yours, weakened by the spirit draining your energy. Your jaw fell slack, unable to close, a waning moaning stretching for miles, ecstasy coursing through your veins. 

You said one name, then another, and then again. This was really confusing but you were here, pounded into oblivion for what it seem endless eternity, until you realized you were full and not with what you had initially anticipated. In the remenance of fatigue from the sex, you fail to notice the lack of protetction seeing as proof of you supernatural rendezvous was seeping out of you like a slow river.

“Jeonghan!” 

“What?” he drowsily answered as he claimed the side of the bed besides you, evidently using the extent of Seungkwan’s body.

“What the fuck happened to the condom?”

“Please, that’s my own cum.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ectoplasm, you know. Comes from all sorts of places.”

“I hate you so much—am I gonna get pregnant with ghost kids?”

“Relax, and no you aren’t. It’s as effective as…something really ineffective–fuck, I’m tired.”

“And Seungkwan. What about Seungkwan?”

“He’s fine and his release became as good as mine when I possessed his body. His soul is asleep right about now, having a catnap. Now come here.” he pulled you towards him, throwing your covers over you and keeping you away from the draft into to room, slipping you into his arms. “Stop tiring yourself out any further and rest. Everything will be fine when he wakes up like a man that got laid: amazing.”

“Fine,” you muttered with heavy eye lids, “but only because im really tired.”

And from that moment sleep was easy.

You woke up to those same arms, now only asleep and less “ghost-like” and snuggled up closer to him, a newly acclaimed heat source. A soft chuckle escaped him, holding you tighter in his embrace as a kiss fell on the top of your forehead. “Hey there.”

You smile, cupping the side of his face in your hand. “Hi.”

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he said, planting another kiss on your nose. “Is it weird to say it felt so good I kinda blacked out?”

“Ha,” you shook your head, knowing the truth, “No, but thank you for the massive compliment.”

He grinned, a flush of red coating his cheeks, before pulling you into a deep and wonderful kiss, entanging his legs with yours. He seeped into realization when he found the mess between your legs, untouched since sex. “Oh shit, I did that, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay, I…have some sort of protection.”

“One moment.” Seungkwan came up naked from the bed, momentarily left the room, and with a noticeably wet hand towel. “I usually have an extra clean one on hand for after my workout. Glad I brought a backpack for no reason today.

As he inched closer, he sat between your legs, uncovering you from the blanket, and politely asked if he could help. When he received your consent, he brought it up to the mess, gently swiping between every crevice, ridding any remnants of cum that might have been left over. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you reassured, visibly gushing.

“Of course, I do.” He insisted, a sincere smile gracing his features. “It's my pleasure taking care of you.”

It was so disorienting going from the original to Jeonghan’s version and back to the original Seungkwan. As if you were once looking through a window of an alternate reality. Still a lot to process what happened.

“I don’t usually do this,” you try explaining yourself, “I just…I’ve been into you for a long time and I just thought, maybe, you felt the same.”

“I do,” he pressed his lips to your inner thigh. “A lot.”

“So you wouldn’t mind seeing me again?”

“I wouldn’t object to the idea,” he grinned, “especially if we get to do what we did to make me black out in the first place.”

[airosuiren]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔒𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔚𝔥𝔬 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔡 𝔗𝔬𝔬 𝔏𝔞𝔱𝔢

A/N: Okay, so… You ever walk into a room where you were once unwanted, and every head turns because suddenly you’re everything they’re not? Yeah. That’s this chapter. 😌 This one’s for the readers who’ve leveled up in silence. Who were counted out too early, who walked out of the fire looking dangerous instead of damaged. This is [Y/N] stepping back into the space that broke them—and not breaking this time. Let’s be clear: this isn’t a reunion. This is a revelation. Grab your tea. Let’s shake a few foundations.

Thank You @arislia for this Idea!

And I'm sorry for not making this longer because I had this planned (I plan my series in google docs after tumblr deleted my old drafts). These will be shorter BUT, the next series I promise to make it longer!

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 1, 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 3

You weren’t supposed to stand out. That’s the irony. You had trained yourself to be unseen, unheard, unfelt—because the moment you started to feel, you started to hurt.

But when the League summoned their families to a secure location, the world you built in the shadows was forced into the light.

You arrived alone.

Lois had offered to fly with you. Clark had said they’d wait at the entrance. But you declined. You wanted them to see you walk in under your own power. No crutches. No borrowed names. Just you.

When you stepped through those doors, the reaction was immediate.

The Queens lit up like someone had flipped a switch. Ollie pulled you in for a hug, Thea waved you over, and even Dinah looked proud. Clark’s face softened. Lois’s arm went straight around your shoulder like it belonged there.

And the Batfamily?

They stared.

Not with joy. Not even with confusion.

They stared like you were a ghost. Like they were seeing something they’d buried come back to life and demand retribution.

You didn’t smile. You didn’t greet them. You turned away from them the way they once turned away from you.

Because if they wanted to pretend you never mattered, then they didn’t get to matter now.

Still, their eyes followed you.

And then the meetings started.

The League began dissecting the threat. Hackers. Leakers. Global-scale blackmail. Someone had infiltrated systems that were supposed to be airtight. It wasn’t just about identities anymore. It was about dismantling everything.

You knew how the media would spin it. You knew how Gotham’s elite would react. And most of all, you knew how fear worked when it had the public in a chokehold.

So you spoke.

You laid out a counter-strategy like you’d done it a thousand times. Because you had. In Metropolis. In Star City. Behind the scenes of political campaigns and corporate power moves. You’d sharpened your teeth while the people who threw you away forgot you even had a bite.

The room listened.

Clark deferred to you. Lois backed you. Oliver vouched for you.

Bruce stayed silent.

But you caught the flicker in his expression when the others nodded along. When Diana praised your foresight. When J’onn said you understood humanity better than most.

The others? Dick tried to pretend he wasn’t surprised. Tim’s stare was surgical, dissecting you in real time. Damian looked like he’d bitten glass.

And the new girl? She finally looked at you.

With fear.

You weren’t the quiet reject anymore. You were something else. Something dangerous. Something they didn’t make—and couldn’t control.

Later, in private, Alfred brought you tea. You almost cried at the gesture.

Almost.

He said nothing about the past. Just, “You’ve grown.”

You wanted to scream, I had to.

But you just nodded.

The truth was, they needed you now. And you were going to help. Not because they deserved it.

Because the world did.

And even in the darkest parts of you, that mattered more than revenge.

But they would never forget this version of you.

Not the one they raised.

The one they abandoned.

The one who rose anyway.

𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖚𝖘! (𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝)

(this is kind of a bonus I thought of while writing...)

It had been late. Quiet.

The kind of quiet that seeped into your bones. The kind of quiet that made your footsteps echo like they didn’t belong.

You were fourteen. Maybe fifteen. You don’t remember the exact age—only the feeling. Raw. Unseen. On the edge of breaking.

Your ribs ached. Your shoulder throbbed. You’d taken a hit meant for Damian—an instinct, not even a choice—and landed hard on a rooftop ledge. Rolled too close to the edge. Limped all the way back. No call of concern. No one on comms. No “Are you okay?” Just silence.

It should’ve earned you a lecture at worst.

Instead, it earned you her.

The new girl.

Barely two weeks in.

Bright. Perfect. Adored.

You limped into the Batcave, helmet tucked under your arm, dried blood crusted over your eyebrow. You expected quiet, maybe concern, maybe just the acknowledgment that you existed.

What you got?

Laughter.

She was in your seat. At the computer. Wearing your gear.

The armor you'd trained in. The one Alfred helped custom-fit after months of trials. The one you’d stitched, cried in, bled into.

And she wore it like it had never belonged to you at all.

Tim leaned over her shoulder, pointing something out on the screen. Damian hovered close behind. Dick was saying something about how “clean” she moved in the field.

And Bruce?

Didn’t even look up.

You stood there, waiting. Expecting. Begging, in that small, desperate way you told yourself you’d outgrown.

Then, finally—his eyes flicked toward you.

And his voice cut through the cave like a scalpel.

“You’re benched. Permanently.”

Just like that. Like a weather report. Like an afterthought. Like you were a dented weapon tossed in a drawer.

You opened your mouth—“But—”—

And then Alfred was there.

With a tray.

Tea and towels. The same ritual. The same script.

But this time, he didn’t meet your eyes.

Not once.

You watched him walk past you like a ghost.

And then—then—came the final blow.

The girl in your gear turned to Bruce, tilting her head with practiced innocence.

“Was I a mistake too?” she asked softly.

A test. You knew it was a test. A way to secure her place. But you didn’t expect the knife that followed.

Bruce didn’t even hesitate.

“No,” he said. “But she was.”

He didn’t mean for you to hear it.

But you did.

And the sound it made in your chest wasn’t a crack. It was a shatter.

You stood there for maybe another full minute.

No one turned. No one asked you to stay. No one noticed the way your fingers curled so tightly around your helmet that the edge dug into your palm and drew blood.

You went to your room. Packed your gear. One piece at a time.

You stood in the center of that tiny space—bland walls, no posters, a bed that had never felt like yours—and realized you’d been living in a house, not a home.

You left the suit on the bed.

Left the tracker on the desk.

Left your voice in the hallway.

And shut the door behind you.

You never opened it again.

A/N: Whew. They called the meeting to fix a crisis—and walked into their biggest one yet: the ghost they buried came back golden, angry, and smarter than all of them combined. And let’s talk about that power shift. She didn’t gloat. She didn’t lash out. She just existed loudly in the place that tried to erase her. And they couldn’t handle it. This wasn’t revenge. This was justice with restraint. Power without apology. Presence that didn’t ask for permission. Next chapter? Let’s make them earn the right to say your name again.

—Your eyes-still-wet, hands-still-shaking, soft-but-spiteful author 🖤💫

Taglist: @feral-childs-word, @trashlanternfish360, @astro-girly1, @suneaterscape, @thatcatladywrites, @arislia, @kittzu, @ottjhe, @tinybrie, @wpdarlingpan, @ryuushou, @simpingpandas, @lettucel0ver, @moonxmio, @kneelforloki, @sirenetheblogger, @xzmickeyzx

Let me know if I missed someone!

[neeeooon]

Today, I saw a bug and genuinely got scared. I asked my friend to kill it but my first thought was, “How would the top blue lock characters react if I asked them to kill a bug for me?” So could I request that for Blue Lock’s top 6? (Rin, Shidou, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya, and Nagi). Thank you!!

i need a so who won’t hesitate to save me from bugs (you won’t find them in all these hcs 😭)

“can you kill that bug for me?”

bf bllk x gn!reader. crack, cussing, bug death in rin’s, otoya’s, and nagi’s

itoshi rin

-> you didn’t see the spider until it was too late

-> a scream tore through you as the creature crawled across your foot, and you jumped away while yelling for your boyfriend

-> rin turned the corner so fast he slid, eyes wide and frantic as he approached you. “what happened? what is it?”

-> you’re a blabbering mess as you point at the daddy long leg. it managed to run from your foot to the wall, and you gripped onto rin. “it, it, spider!”

-> sighing, rin picks a book off the table and smacks the wall in one lazy swoop. you collapse onto the floor and he offers you a hand. “so extra.” “that thing could have killed me!” “you’re welcome, then.”

shidou ryusei

-> he’s right there screaming with you

-> “do something!” you yell from the countertop as you continue throwing miscellaneous items at the cockroach scampering across your tile. shidou, from the kitchen table, screams back, “what am i supposed to do?! those things crunch, babe. i will literally throw up and die!”

-> the two of you continued throwing things at the bug, which hadn’t moved, until you eventually ran out

-> “babe?” you questioned sweetly. shidou narrowed his eyes at you. “yes?” “can you kill that bug for me?” “absolutely not. no way. no.”

-> your head fell back against your shoulders as you groaned. “i hate my life.”

karasu tabito

-> the buzzing beside your ear was enough to set you off, but when you noticed it was a wasp?

-> “tabito!!” you screeched, sprinting around the house like it was on fire as you tried to find your boyfriend. “there’s a wasp in the house!”

-> he appeared immediately. “how the fuck did a white anglo-saxon protestant get in the house?!”

-> you look at him. he looks at you. the wasp buzzes. finally, he blinks. “oh. you mean the one with wings.” “yes, the one with wings.” “… i’ll get rid of it for you.” “thank you.”

otoya eita

-> you don’t even know what kind of big it is, just that it’s big and staring you down from your ceiling

-> “otoya..?” you voice crept higher and higher as the beast inched closer and closer, and soon you were afraid it would drop onto your head. “otoya!”

-> he lazily poked his head into the room and followed your gaze up to the bug sitting menacingly above you. “help me.”

-> “fear not,” he dramatically pulled a rubber hand from his pocket and wrapped it around his fingers before aiming at the bug. “i’ll use my ninja skills to protect you.”

-> and to your surprise, he actually hit it. you jumped out of the way before the bug can fall on you and otoya disposed of it while you thanked him with hugs and kisses

yukimiya kenyu

-> ladybug or not, it was in your house, on your skin, and you needed it gone. and when it whips its wings out??? ohhh boy

-> “KENYU!!” he slams into the wall, glasses missing and clearly frazzled after hearing you scream. “what’s wrong? are you okay?!”

-> you point a trembling finger at the ladybug crawling on your arm, wings still out. you were too scared to swat at it and risk it flying at your face or in your hair. “save me.”

-> yukimiya tried not to laugh after seeing ow truly panicked you were. “okay, okay, i’m coming. don’t move, let me get my glasses—“ “OH GOD ITS MOVING.”

-> he walked over and laid a finger on your arm for the bug to crawl on, then casually walked outside and let it crawl onto a leaf. “there! saved you.” you throw yourself into his arms, blabbering nonsense he thinks sounds a lot like, “thank you, i love you, marry me please.”

nagi seishiro

-> the last time you stepped on a bug, it was carrying its baby sack and hundreds of baby bugs broke free, infesting your house and permanently traumatizing you

-> so even though it’s an ant (singular) you are not taking any chances

-> you stuck your head into the room nagi was in and tossed a sock at him to get his attention. “hm?” “there is an ant in the kitchen and i need you to kill it.” “‘k.”

-> you follow close behind nagi, fingers tangled in his hoodie as he waddles into the kitchen. “where?” you point and he walks over and steps in it with his bare foot

-> “y.. bare footed?” “you asked me to kill it.” you hand him a damp paper towel before he can even think about walking around with a dead ant on the bottom of his foot. “thanks.. weirdo.” “mhm. love you.” “aww love you, too.”

[dantes-jacket]

My whole world

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, friends with benefits to lovers, no smut but there is sexual innuendos, confessions in the rain, you guys argue.

I fall in love with him more and more everyday.

Today was a great day or so you thought. Dante brought you your favorite breakfast to bed and spent the whole morning cuddling you. You then went out with Lady and Trish to go shopping in the early afternoon. You saw a cute dog while walking back to Devil May Cry and the owner let you pet him then give him a treat. You then got ready for a night out with your little squad.

Now you’re at the same old bar your group always goes to but you have to watch many women ALL over Dante. If looks could kill they’d all be dead. Dante too on accident. Or is it an accident at this rate? You and Dante probably have the most complicated relationship.

You’ve know each other for a couple of years because he helped you move into your apartment. You ironically moved into the open apartment right next to Lady. They were coming up to her apartment when they saw you struggling to carry everything by yourself. Dante quickly rushed over to you and took the extra boxes in your hands and asked if you needed help.

Lady also pitched in and after a couple of hours, you three got everything into your apartment. To thank them you ordered a pizza and gave them some beers. You all sat down eating and drinking while introducing yourselves. Before they left they each gave you their numbers to keep in touch since you didn’t know anyone in town.

After that night you three regularly met up to hang out in your apartment. Within a couple of weeks they introduced you to Trish and she ended up moving the get togethers to the bar. You don’t mind of course because sometimes cleaning up after the four of you got tedious.

Dante would always stay to help you clean up though. He would also check your apartment to “make sure everything looks good still.” You believed him at first then once you found of the groups profession, you now know he was making sure no demons were lurking anywhere.

But that is the reason why you and Dante got close fast. The little clean up sessions would end up being late night talks or motorcycle rides. You two would talk everyday whether that be over the phone or meeting up.

The relationship didn’t change much until a few months ago. You two were hanging out in Devil May Cry watching a movie and eating pizza. Before you even realized you were in his lap making out with him. Neither of you two know how you two got there but that didn’t stop you two.

That night you ended up sleeping together too. You woke up before him, in his bed. You were also stuck in place because Dante had a tight hold on you. So you just laid there and thought about everything. How did this happen? Will this change things? What will Dante think? Will this ruin your friendship?

You hear a groan in your ear so you wiggle around to try and face Dante. He realizes what you’re trying to do so he loosens his grip on you. Just enough to let you turn around but once you’re facing him he holds tightly onto you again.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he mumbled deeply. You already thought his voice was deep and beautiful but his morning voice is something else. It sends a warmth back to your core. Trying to ignore the heat of your lower area you bury yourself into him.

“Good morning,” you murmur back.

“Want some breakfast? I think I got some stuff. I actually went grocery shopping this week.”

You laugh at his comment knowing that he hates grocery shopping and always “forgets” to do it. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He lets go of you and sits up. He lets out another groan while he stretches then hops out of bed. He grabs his discarded underwear from last night puts them on. He then grabs his shirt and throws it over to you. A silent request and you listen. You throw the shirt on and hop out of bed.

You follow Dante down the stairs and into the kitchen. Dante opens the fridge and looks at the small contents of food he has. He asks, “Is eggs and toast good?”

“Yep, sounds good to me. I’ll make the toast while you can make the eggs.”

Dante nods and goes to prepare the eggs. You grab the bread that is on the counter next to the toaster funny enough. You take out four pieces and pop them into the toaster. While the bread toasts you zone out thinking about this all again.

Dante isn’t acting any different than he normally does. So does he regret this? Is this a one time thing in his opinion? You don’t know. There’s so many questions unasked that are obviously going unanswered. But you don’t know how to start the conversation.

You then feel two strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a warm embrace. Dante’s whole body engulfs you. He leans his chin on your shoulder, “I was calling out to you. Are you okay?”

You just nod your head but that doesn’t convince him. He squeezes you tighter, “Are you thinking about all of this?”

He feels you stiffen for a second, that’s how he knows he’s right. Dante lets out a deep breath and tilts your chin so you can look at him.

You look into his beautiful blue eyes. You can see the message he’s trying to put across. It makes you ease up a bit because if he thought negatively of this situation, he wouldn’t give you such a tender look.

“How about we just go with the flow?” He suggests. “We both know I have a messy life and can’t exactly do relationships so let’s keep it casual. We do what we want when we want to. We can obviously set more rules later but what do you think?”

You think about his offer, so he wants to do a friend’s with benefits situation. The idea isn’t all that appealing because you’re more into being in relationships, but this is Dante. The man you’ve been into since he helped you. You selfishly want him in whatever way you can have him. If this is the only way then you’ll do it. Even if it means sacrificing your emotions.

You look at him and give him a light smile, “I’m in, let’s do it.”

Dante smirks and lowers his hand to your butt and gives it a squeeze, “Atta girl.”

Since that day for months you and Dante have been “secretly” hooking up. It was a secret at first until Trish walked into Devil May Cry and see Dante pounding into you on his desk. Trish then told Lady and those two jumped you one night after work demanding answers.

You sigh and lead them up to your apartment where you sit down and tell them the situation. They are not happy with you or him.

“You like him so why put yourself through that? Get a real man that will actually take you out and be your boyfriend,” Trish and Lady lecture you.

“But- I just… this is the only way I can have him. I’ve liked him for so long and I don’t want anyone else. If this is how I can have him then I’ll take it. Even if it means it’ll slowly break my heart,” you gently whisper not being able to look at them.

Trish walks over and kneels in front of you placing a hand on your shoulder. “I get it that you like him so much but he’s only hurting you.”

You snap your head up to look at her, you don’t like how she’s talking down on him. “No he’s not! He takes me out on dates all the time. We don’t always sleep together. We still hang out normally and do everything we use to just with the addition of sleeping together. He’s really protective and sweet. He’s even gotten me some gifts. So don’t talk down on him like he’s some random bar guy. I love him and I don’t want to hear you belittle him.”

Your eyes widen at your own confession and you slap your hands over your mouth. Trish and Lady both stare at you owlishly.

Lady clears her throat, “You love him?” You nod your head. “And he takes care of you?” She asks to confirm.

“Yes he does.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “Then why isn’t it official?”

“It’s complicated. Don’t question it, let me deal with all of this.”

That talk was a couple weeks ago and now the two girls watch you seethe in your seat. They see the white haired man talking to all the ladies and making no effort to push them away. You all are too far to hear what they are saying. It’s probably a good thing for your emotional well being.

Trish turns her head to see you knocking back another shot. She’s lost count of how many you’ve done and that’s not good. Normally you barely drink and now you’re pushing it.

“Hey,” she calls out to you. “Take a break yeah?”

You turn to glare at her, “I’m perfectly fine!”

Lady rolls her eyes and just continues to watch this all unfold. Trish has the patience of a saint.

“Why don’t you go dance for a bit? Blow off some steam.”

You beam at her and lighten up. “Oh yeah! I’ll be back later!!” You then run off to the middle of the dance floor.

“Why the hell would you send her drunk and emotional self onto the dance floor?” Lady questions.

Trish slips slowly on her drink, “Because Dante is going to clean his mess up.”

As if she could predict the future Dante comes marching over, “Hey where the hell is she?”

“Who?” Trish asks.

Dante says your name aggressively. Trish then looks over Dante’s shoulder to find you. She finds you in the middle of a group of guys trying to feel you up while dancing. She smirks to herself thinking this situation is perfect.

“Oh she’s just on the dance floor with a bunch of guys over there.” She points to where you are.

Dante snapped his neck so fast. If he was just human he would have definitely broke his neck. He looks to see a crowd of guys all over you trying to lay their hands on you.

His blood boils watching the scene. Before he realized he is marching over to where you are. He’s pushing past people mumbling “excuse me’s” and “sorry’s”.

You don’t even fully realize what’s going on. You’re just trying to dance to one of your favorite songs then suddenly a group of men are around you. They all are trying to get close but you keep dodging them until they have you in the middle of the circle.

You try to keep your head down and keep dancing but that isn’t helping. They are trying to grind on you or try and wrap themselves around you. You hate this. You wanted to dance to get Dante’s escapades out of your head. But now you’re in a stupid situation.

You see a hand reaching out to you in your peripheral vision, you squeezed your eyes shut hoping to delay the event. But the touch never comes. You open your eyes to see Dante holding the man’s wrist. “You better leave her alone if you know what’s good for all of you.”

The men feel this murderous aura pouring off of Dante. They all quickly apologize and scatter off. You’re happy that Dante helped but you’re still mad at him. You turn away from him but he places his hands on your waist and turn you to face him. He then takes your arms and wraps them around his neck before placing his hands back on your waist.

“What, no praise for your knight in shining leather?” He jokes.

You roll your eyes and ignore him. But that doesn’t stop him from pulling you closer and leading you two in a slow dance.

You keep your eyes off of him while you dance and don’t really seem focused in the moment. He can tell you’re drunk but there’s something else bugging you.

He calls your name, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing Dante,” you snap.

“Whoa there’s definitely something wrong. Come on you have my full attention so tell me what’s wrong.”

This makes your blood boil. You push him away from you and jab your finger into his chest, “You really have some fucking audacity Dante.”

You then spin around and rush out of the bar. Dante stands there in shock and confused by your sudden shift in emotions. You’ve never yelled and snapped at him before. He’s seen you drunk but you’re more of sleepy drunk. This is really coming out of nowhere in his eyes. He knows he can let your drunk self be by yourself at night so he goes after you.

He pushes open the door of the and steps outside. He feels the rain coming down and he curses to himself. He looks left and right then sees you and takes off after you.

You rushed out of the bar to be greeted by a downpour. Great! Just what you needed after this terrible night. You cross your arms over your chest to try and keep as much warmth as you can.

You sniffle which makes you realize that you are crying. You mutter out “fuck” and wipe your tears. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this agreement. You knew something like this would happen but you just couldn’t say no to such a tempting offer.

You feel someone grab your wrist while saying your name. You know exactly who it is. You try to rip your wrist out of his grip but he’s not budging. You stop the futile fight, “Dante, let go,” You beg.

“No, not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

You turn your head to face him and he gapes at your reaction. He sees your red eyes with tears streaming down your face. He’s never seen you fully cry before. He doesn’t even realize he loosened his grip until you pull your hand away and bolt again.

He quickly takes after you again and this time he runs in front of you to stop you. He’s breathing heavily not because of the running but because of his nerves. “Okay tell me what’s wrong.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“No. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you!” He yells finally tired of your constant dismissal.

You clench your fists and stare right at him, “You wanna know the problem?” Dante quickly nods. “It’s you Dante! You’re the fucking problem!”

Dante feels like he’s been punched in the gut. What do you mean he’s the problem? “What- how… what do you mean I’m the problem?”

You laugh at his answer, “Of course you wouldn’t know!”

“Oh enlighten me then,” he says sarcastically.

“Just go back to your other girls and leave me alone! You did a great job of doing it already, I bet it wouldn’t be hard.”

“Oh so you were jealous? That’s why you’re upset? I was planning on going home with you tonight and fucking you until the sun rose so don’t worry.” He deadpans.

Your jaw drops, the audacity he fucking has. You can’t even right now. You try to walk past him but he sticks his arm out preventing you from getting around.

“DANTE GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!” You scream.

Dante is even more confused, he thought he fixed this. “Why are you still mad?”

You push past his arm and continue on ahead. “Stop avoiding me!” He yells out to you.

You spin on your heel and stare at him. “You wanna know why I’m so mad?” Dante just nods.

“It’s because I love you Dante! I loved your crazy self ever since you helped me move in.”

You see Dante freeze up completely this time. He opens his mouth then immediately closes it a couple of time then finally mutters, “I didn’t know-“

“Of course you didn’t know because I couldn’t show it or tell you! I was so nervous that morning you were going to tell me that it meant nothing to you and that we should never talk about it. But then you offered the goddamn friends with benefits option and I just couldn’t turn it down.” You throw your hands up in frustration, “I knew doing it would hurt me but I didn’t care. I wanted you. I know it’s selfish but I couldn’t say no. Having you this way was better than not having you in some way. So I decided to do this even though I knew it’d kill me slowly.”

You let the tears flow now and you hiccup, “We gotten so close these past months and have basically acted like a couple. It made me think we really were one. But tonight made me realize we didn’t have a label and I’m not yours and you’re not mine. You can have anyone you want. I got ahead of myself and now we are fighting over my selfishness. We made rules and I broke them. Just do me a favor and go back to having your eyes wander all over those girls.”

You don’t bother to look at Dante. Your heart won’t be able to take it. You decide just to turn around and leave this in the past. You can’t come back from this, especially not after your confession. You start getting further and further from the man you love.

Dante has stood there frozen since your first confession. After every new confession it felt like he was getting stabbed over and over again. He couldn’t bear it. But you were obviously in more pain than him. Yet he is the one that caused it. How could he have been so stupid? He didn’t mean for all of this to happen.

He was in the same boat as you. He is in love with you. That’s why he made you the offer. He thought he would get to have you without forcing you to give up a lot of things to be with someone in his profession. But he ended up taking more from you. The exact opposite he wanted.

He watches you get further and further away. Dante can’t watch you get any further because he can’t lose you for good. He can’t turn his back on you two.

He yells your name but you don’t stop. That doesn’t stop him, he’ll chase after you no matter where you lead him.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath then yells, “WHY WOULD I HAVE WANDERING EYES WHEN MY WHOLE WORLD IS IN FRONT OF ME!?” Now he watches you freeze and turn around. You two are still at least a hundred feet apart still. He slowly makes his way over to you.

“I’m selfish I know. I caused you more pain than you deserved and I hate myself for it. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. All I ever wanted to do was keep you protected and happy. I’d do anything to make that happen. Those girls that were with me tonight did flirt with me at first but I shut them down. I explained how I am so in love with the woman I brought tonight but I don’t have the balls to tell her. So they tried to help me make a plan to confess.”

He runs a hand through his hair, “How funny is that? I can fight demons all day long but I can’t tell the woman I love that I love her. I made the arrangement because I thought like you, I thought I’d lose you. And god if I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t even bear the thought of you not spending the night anymore.”

He is now only a few steps away from you but stops to give you some space. Dante lightly calls your name, “I know I fucked up but please let me fix it.”

You slowly nod your head indicating him to keep going. He doesn’t waste his chance, “I love you. I am so in love with you and have been since I saw you. Please be with me. No more stupid friends with benefits. Just us in a relationship, where I am yours and you are mine.”

You stare deeply into Dante’s eyes and speak up, “Dante you better not be lying just to try and fix everything. I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it, I truly love you. I swear to you,” he responds without hesitation.

“Okay then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Dante smiles ear to ear and you can’t help yourself from mimicking his reaction. He doesn’t waste another second before pulling you into a bruising kiss.

His big hands brings back so much warmth you have lost in the rain. His tongue runs along the your lips begging for an entrance. You allow him access and he pushes his tongue to meet yours.

He easily dominates your tongue while having your teeth clash from the intense messy kiss. Dante then lightly bites your bottom lip which makes you moan. Dante pulls you closer after your reaction.

The kiss tastes like alcohol and rain. It feels so right and warm. You never will get tired of the intensity of which Dante kisses at.

After Dante feels your movements slow down a bit he breaks the kiss and leans back to look at you. You’re not crying anymore but you’re completely soaked from the rain.

You break the silence first, “Can we head back now? I’m really tired.” You request.

Dante laughs, “Yeah we can head back.” He turns his back to you then crouches down. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, “Hop on, I’ll carry you back.”

You hop onto Dante’s back and hold onto him tightly. You lay your head on his back and whisper loud enough for him to hear, “I love you Dante.”

“I love you too.” He feels your grip loosen a bit indicating you feel asleep. He smiles to himself then whispers, “Sleep well.”

[comflexxed]

june’s hand was already reaching for her before hans finished speaking. there was no hesitation, no pause to think about what this moment meant — sunny, warm and quiet and flushed, was right there beside them, and she needed them. that was all june needed to know.

he shifted onto his side, his body curving instinctively toward hers, the sheets tangled still around his legs but no longer relevant. the morning had changed — still soft, but touched with concern now, the kind that sharpened his senses even through the remnants of sleep. he tucked one arm beneath her head to cradle her gently, the other settling on her back with a light pressure, grounding and careful, as though his touch alone could tell her she was safe.

“she’s burning up,” he said softly, almost to himself. his palm rested flat across her back, and though she was small, her body felt so heavy like this. he looked at her, at her face — pale and pinched despite the heat in her cheeks, and his chest pulled tight. he’d seen her with scrapes and little bruises before, giggling through the sting of a playground fall, but this was different. this stillness. this silence. she didn’t even flinch when he brushed the hair away from her damp forehead.

she wasn’t ready to move. maybe she didn’t want to talk, maybe her throat hurt too much to try. he remembered the way she’d pressed herself into hans’ neck, the way her fingers barely clung. it said enough. “i’ve got you,” june murmured, voice low and steady, his thumb tracing soft circles along her spine. “we’re both here.”

and it wasn’t lost on him how this moment, however unexpected, cracked something open. she knew now. not through some talk, not because either of them sat her down to explain what they meant to each other, but because of the way hans jumped from bed without a second thought, because of the way june had already made space for her in his arms, because of the way their bodies had moved in tandem, no confusion, just care.

this was what it meant to love hans. to love them. it was not only soft mornings and slow kisses and lazy sunlight curling on the sheets. it was fevers and uncertainty and slipping into a role he hadn’t rehearsed but felt so sure of anyway. this was what june had signed up for, even if he hadn’t known it at the time. and he wanted it. even this. especially this.

she stirred against him then, and june watched her carefully. “hey,” he said gently. “you don’t have to say anything. just rest here for a while.” his fingers moved to feel her pulse at her neck — fast, but not frightening. he could feel hans' presence just behind her, could sense how tightly he was holding it together, how his own worry was barely veiled. june wanted to tell him it was okay.

but for now, june just laid there, anchored by the little body curled between them, the rhythm of a sick morning unfolding with a quiet kind of love. he would stay as long as sunny needed him. longer, even. there would be time for explanations. time for comfort and for care and for gentle clarity. but right now, he would be the quiet in the storm. he would be someone she could trust.

hans would spend hours watching his flowers sometimes, seeing the new buds slowly bloom before his eyes. it was a labor of love, of patience, and even though he knew that they grew faster when he wasn’t looking, there was something about watching a bud slowly open up that enthralled him. 

he felt that way as june’s eyes slowly opened, like a rosebud seeking the warmth of the sun, ready to live its life as a beautiful flower. he cradled june’s face with his hand, feeling the soft skin under his touch, feeling that warmth that reminded him he was real. “sleep okay?” he asked with tenderness in his voice, the soft tendrils of sunlight touching more of their skin now as the morning unfolded. 

he forgot any other way to wake up. this was it. this was how he wanted each morning to be. slow and calm and unwritten. hans decided that the day should be filled with tenderness, and so his lips came closer, pressing softly at the corner of june’s lips with a promise that there was more to come. his leg got caught in the tangle of sheets covering them, but he didn’t mind, moving it just slightly so he could be closer, warmer with june’s arms around him. 

a gentle tap on the door surprised hans and startled him more awake, suddenly sitting upright as he wondered if he had imagined it. “daddy?” the call that followed made him jump off his bed, pulling the door wide open at record speed. 

“hey, sunny bear,” he said gently, crouching down to meet sunny at eye level. “did you have a bad dream?” he ruffled her hair gently, her sleepy eyes listless and her arms wrapping around his neck without a word.

that’s when he felt it. her hans were warm—too warm. 

hans moved quickly, carrying her as he straightened up, walking back to the bed with her body limp in his arms. she had closed her eyes again, but she didn’t look asleep. “i think she has a fever,” he said by way of explanation as he laid sunny down gently beside june, setting aside the fact that this was how she’d find out june and hans slept in the same bed, that june wasn’t just her teacher anymore.

but hans didn’t spare that a thought, his hand feeling her forehead as she grunted. “tell us what you feel, sunny bear. daddy’s right here,” hans promised, holding her small hand in his as he lay on his side, facing her and june. 

this wasn’t how the morning was supposed to unfold, but that’s life for you. sometimes it writes itself in unexpected ways.

[stargirlrchive]

i think the only way i can get this priceghost threesome fic out is if i post half first! so enjoy (don’t hate me for blue-balling yall 😔 the smut is coming! i promise)

one — two — three

“Invited the Captain over for dinner.”

Your skin prickled as Simon’s gaze pinned you to your spot. He was watching your reaction and no doubt did not miss the way you chopped a bit harder into the vegetables you were cutting.

You just hummed, hoping he would miss the way your thighs gently clenched together at the thought of having both of them in your home.

Your last encounter, if you could call it that, was Price encouraging Simon to fuck you harder over the phone and you had not stopped thinking about it since.

Guilt had webbed its way into your chest as night after night your underwear soaked at the thought of both of them taking you.

Simon deep down your throat while his Captain devoured you.

You missed the way Simon’s eyes glossed over at your reaction. Already chubbing painfully as he watched you bite down onto your plump lip, and squeeze your thighs.

He knew the nasty little thoughts that ran through your mind. Had caught onto how you listened intently whenever his captains name was mentioned in conversation.

He didn’t blame you, gods he had been thinking about it too. The way your eyes would grow low and desperate as Price fucked you. Begging Simon to touch as you moaned and writhed beneath his captain.

The only reason he had let weeks go by to make a move is because he needed to be sure you’d be okay with it. He didn’t want to force something onto you that had happened accidentally.

But it was obvious. You were never well at hiding when your interest was piqued.

You had been so lost in your filthy little daydream you missed the sound of Simon’s footsteps approaching. You jumped lightly when his thick hands laid flat on your belly.

His nose dragging down the side of your neck as he pressed his hardening cock into you. He was so big it rested comfortably on the small of your back, right above the swell of your ass.

“Is it a problem that I invited him over?”

His breath was fresh against your heated skin and it caused a shiver to zip down your spine. One of his hands trailing lower before it slipped into the waist band of your shorts.

“No, not a problem. Just wish I would’ve known so I could’ve fixed myself up a bit. It’s not every day we host your team.”

You could hardly focus on not nipping your fingers with the knife as Simon’s finger dipped between your underwear. You wondered if he’d know that reason of your slick was also due to the older man.

Your head resting against his shoulder as he pushed the pad of his fingers against your wet clit. “You get this horny from chopping up vegetables?”

He laughed at his own joke, and you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that left your mouth. “Yeah, something about the chop really gets me going.”

He nipped at your throat lightly, his fingers barley hovering over your clit before he was dipping his fingers between your folds.

“And here I was thinkin’ it was because of me and John.”

Your body stilled against his, had you really been that obvious? Was…was he mad?

“I’m sorry-”

Simon kept your pressed against him as you tried to turn around to face him. His fingers still dipped into your slick pussy.

“What for, hm? For being a greedy little thing and wanting two cocks?”

You whimpered softly, thighs tightening around his hand as you nodded, you didn’t know what to do. On one hand you were worried Simon was upset, and on the other you were so fucking horny that your brain turned to mush.

“S’alright, baby. Cap’n and I arranged this all for you to get your little fix.”

You couldn’t wrap your mind around what he was saying, the tip of his finger dipping into your entrance. Your body felt like it was burning hot, clit pulsing with need as he slowly fucked you with his fingers.

“What is it that you want him to do?”

Simon’s free hand enveloped your breast, teasing your hardened nipples as he rolled his thumb against them. His other palm flat against your clit as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“Want him to use your mouth? We can show him how good I’ve trained you.”

Your gasps and soft cries filled the kitchen, “Or do you want him to use his mouth on this pretty pussy. Get you all nice and wet before I stuff you full of my cock?”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, fucking yourself against his thick fingers as you cried and whined.

You were so close, just a few more swipes to your clit and you’d come all over his hand.

But the soft knock at your front door caused a warbled gasp to leave your mouth. Rutting against Simon’s hand before your release vanished. But he delivered a soft pinch to your nipple before his hand moved to your hips.

Gripping tight enough to still your movements as his fingers slipped out of you.

“That’s the Captain. Can’t keep ‘em waiting.”

You hoped your thoughts and desires weren’t written clearly on your face, but the subtle smirks thrown your way from Simon, and gentle smiles from Price told you otherwise.

You had to refrain from choking on each bite as John held your gaze as you spoke. He was so attentive, something that no doubt came from years of his job.

He was intense, but despite it all his eyes were warm, and it caused your cunt to pulse. All you could think about was how his hands would feel tugging on your hair, or biting into your skin. Or if he preferred to memorize your skin with soft, lingering touches.

You wondered if he preferred a gentler approach to having sex or not. You couldn’t tell.

And it was driving you crazy.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, doll?” John’s voice dripped like warm honey, warmth blooming in your belly as you refrained from melting into a puddle right at his feet.

You had to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth as Simon laughed as he saw the coy look on your face at the pet name.

Simon’s hands patting your thighs as he mumbled out,“Spacey little thing.”

You knew Simon was teasing you, and you huffed, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you let them talk.

You wouldn’t have added much to the conversation. Not when Simon’s hand was dangerously close to where you desperately wanted him.

You were so familiar with his touch, so used to the way the callouses of his fingers made your body burn with desire.

He was familiar, and safe, and home.

He teasingly rubbed and gripped at your thigh, throwing knowing glances your way each time your legs pried open a little more.

John excused himself to use the restroom, and Simon smiled down at you teasingly, “How are you feeling, love?”

You huffed, because he knew exactly what was going through your mind, the way your eyes drooped with desire.

“Need you, Si’.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded, pawing gently at his cock as you pressed soft kisses to his neck. You were met with a soft grunt, his fingers tightening around your thigh.

He gently gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his and his eyes scanned over your face, a small smidge of concern evident in his eyes as his words quietly filter through the room, “Jus’ wanna make sure, you okay with Cap joinin’ tonight?”

The flutter of your lashes was answer enough but he wanted to hear you say it verbally. You gave him a nod, trying to bite back a smile, “Yeah-I’m okay with it.”

He sent you a lazy smile, pressing his lips to yours as he pulled you up, moving the two of you to the couch and perching you on his lap.

John met you both in the living room, his eyes locked onto Simon’s in silent communication. With a subtle nod from Simon, Price’s eyes dropped down to you. Shamelessly drinking in your form and the way Simon’s fingers teased at your shirt, “You’re gonna make me jealous, Lt.”

Your eyes flickered to John’s, eyes fixated on the tent in his pants as he licked his lips, “Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about all those pretty noises you made.”

You forced yourself not to squirm under his gaze, Simon’s deep voice rumbling against you as he spoke, “Took ‘em right there on that couch you’re sittin’ on.”

You bit your lip, recalling the way Simon handle you, pressing your face into the cushion to keep you quiet, fucking you relentlessly with the encouragement of his boss.

“Go on, baby. Think it’s time we show ‘em how good you are.”

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

Make ‘Em Earn It

Older Brother!Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Younger Sister!Reader x Older Brother!Elias "Stack" Moore

Synopsis: Your brothers left you helpless for years, when they come back into your life unexpectedly acting like nothing happened you make them earn your trust back.

cw:DDDNE!!! Incest, Brother x Sister, smut, NO MINORS WHATSOEVER (literally stop reading now if you are gonna have something to say about the content i already warned you <3), Taboo

a/n:Proofread by the amazing @starfxkrinc mreow! other than that enjoy!

You remember the day they buried him.

That red dirt caved over your daddy’s chest like the devil himself was covering up the mess. You weren’t supposed to be there weren’t even supposed to exist in their eyes but you were watching. Always watching.

From behind the cottonwood, with your mama’s old cross hanging low between your collarbones and your little hands squeezing the hem of your sundress like it could stop your heart from thumping out your chest.

Stack and Smoke didn’t even know you was his blood. Well not until after.

Didn’t take long for them to figure it out neither. Your mama’s name rolled off Smoke’s lips like ash from a cigarette . His eyes lit up like he seen a ghost, and you?

You stepped out from the trees with a grin that ain’t belonged on no baby girl’s face.

“Y’all done kilt my daddy,” you said, voice sticky sweet, “guess that make you my daddies now.”

And Lord, did they take to it. Took you under quick. Stack buying you books, teaching you how to fix a busted pipe. Smoke letting you sit in his lap, lighting his cigarettes, holding his switchblade. You knew even then power done tasted good, even at fourteen.

But they left.

First for war. Then for Chicago. Said it was for money, for freedom, for y’all. But you weren’t stupid. You knew abandonment when it knocked on your door and left nothing but cold grease and a cracked porch swing behind.

They ain’t even write.

Ain’t nobody else could’ve raised you, so you raised yourself. All attitude, hips, and full breast by the time they finally came crawling back down 61. You was grown now Black, beautiful, and burning with rage. Dressed like sin.

“You remember how to say my name?” you purr as they step out that truck, shadows long and hungry in the late July heat.

“Damn, baby” Stack says first, low and gravelly, eyes drinking you in like he ain’t sure if he dreaming or dying.

Smoke don’t say a word. Just stares like you a preacher’s lie he been trying not to confess.

You step off the porch, slow and teasing. Letting them see everything they left behind.

You don’t move. Don’t smile. Don’t run into their arms like some sad helpless little girl.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve showin’ up,” you say, voice syrupy and sharp. “Left me like a dog in the yard. No word. No nothin’. Just gone.”

Stack winces. Smoke takes a step, like he wants reach for you, but you step back.

“Nuh uh. If you want me now, you gon’ have to earn it.”

And baby, you made them work.

You dragged them inside the house you kept spotless all them years. Air thick with magnolia and sweat. You tell them sit down. Tell them hush. You straddle Smoke first, kissing him slow, like he’s your punishment.

Let Stack watch. He drawls out your name like a warning, like he remember you as a baby girl and can’t quite reckon this woman sitting in his brother’s lap with sin in her smile.

“Oh I ain’t your baby no more,” you whisper, letting your hips grind down on Smoke’s belt buckle. “But you still gon’ take care of me, ain’t you?”

They take turns saying yes. Over and over.

You ride one, while you kiss the other. Whisper filthy confessions between licks of sweat and soft bites. They beg, and you love it. Love the way Stack says your name all reverent like, like you holy now.

Love the way Smoke trembles beneath you, muttering “we sorry, baby, we so damn sorry” like it’ll fix anything.

It don’t. But it feels like it might.

After, when you laid between them both of them still breathing heavy and bruised up with guilt you press your cheek to Stack’s chest, reaching for Smoke’s hand.

“You gon’ leave me again?” you murmur, lashes brushing against his collarbone.

“No, ma’am,” they say in unison. Like a prayer.

You grin in the dark.

“Good. ‘Cause next time, I won’t be waitin’.”

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Curse Your Name

𖤐❝Halazia❞𖤐

❥Vampire Ateez x fem reader

❝What is destined cannot be avoided.❞

Masterlist + Visualizers

✫彡wordcount: 10k

(✯◡✯)genre: yandere, fantasy, smut, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: see general warnings in the masterlist: talk of virginity and sex, kissing, drinking wine, manipulative hwa and joong take advantage of drunk reader (ONLY by drinking from her), a few mentions of death of a family member

➯a/n: wwwah im scared to let you guys down, i hope you enjoy !!

✫bleeding hearts✫@spenceatiny18 @gigglensnort @londonbridges01 @soobieboobiebaby @kllerwaifu @stayatinykatsy @onyxmango @purple-bell @peachyscenes @emilysecresy @ninjakitty15 @imeverycliche

❝Drink from me and live... forever.❞

MDNI.

𖤐❝I promise.❞𖤐

     𖤐 It was late fall. You were twelve years old.

    The water was cold between your fingers. The grass was soft as you laid on your stomach.

    You were all alone.

    The rest of the village was gathered together, celebrating the life of your recently departed mother.

    But you did not feel like celebrating. You only felt like dunking your head in the water and screaming until you ran out of air.

     When you sat up to do so, a familiar presence had stopped you before you could.

     "Go away, Mingi..." You already knew it was the invisible man. You didn't have to look or ask.

    The grass beside you sunk as his unperceivable form took a seat next to you.

"You're in pain. Has someone harmed you-"

"I said go aw-"

"I will do no such thing." You were shocked at his sudden stern tone. In the years that he's haunted both your dreams and your waking hours, he's always been soft spoken towards you. "I will do no such thing," he repeated a bit softer when he sensed your unease, "I will not leave your side when you are in such pain. Pray tell me, what has hurt you?"

You looked towards the water. The river where he had first came to you, that day you were learning how to fish from your mother. "I cannot speak it aloud... it's too horrible."

You felt his cold hand on your back, you felt him looking at you. You pulled your knees up and hugged them to your chest.

"Your mother?" He asked gently, getting his answer when you began to sob immediately. "Oh, sweet child," his ghostly embrace was more comforting than you felt it should have been; but you took what you could get. "I wish I was here with you. One day I will hug you and make all of your pain go away. I promise." 𖤐

"Did you hear me?" Wooyoung reaches across the gap between his horse and your and Hongjoong's, flicking your arm.

"Owwww," you draw on dramatically, "what was that for?"

You had been journeying with the Vampires for twelve days. Despite your initial efforts to distance yourself, to build a metaphorical wall between you and the trio, you started opening up to them around the eight day mark.

You no longer flinched from every touch, but you certainly didn't search them out. You didn't keep your answers to their questions to one or two words anymore, but you didn't offer them anything unprompted.

"I said we have about another three hours before we reach the castle," he repeats what you missed while you were stuck in your own memories, "do you need to stop for a little bit?"

"Oh," you shake your head, "no, I'm okay. Thank you, My Lord."

Hongjoong hums from behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Your hips must be aching by now, you are still not used to being on horseback."

"I can bare it," you sigh, fidgeting with the bandage on your hand. "My Lords, might I ask a question?"

"Didn't you just?" Yunho, from his own horse in front of you, smiles over his shoulder, "of course, speak freely amongst us."

"Well," you take a breath. You don't know if you really want the answer. Because you're afraid. But going in blind is worse. "What will happen when we arrive to the castle?"

"No need to be frightened." Yunho speaks softly — and you don't have to ask how he knows you're scared. After almost two weeks with the councilmen and their subordinates, you know they can hear your heartbeat quickening no matter how steady you try to keep it with deep breaths. "We will call upon the rest of our soulmates, if they don't greet us when we arrive."

"That's very well but..."

"But...?" Wooyoung mimics you, tilting his head.

"Will... uhm, forgive me for being so crass, My Lords, but will they drink from me like you did?" You really don't want them to. Even though you were beginning to form a sort of trust with the trio, the times they fed from you over the past days always left you feeling queasy.

It was nowhere near as bad as the first time, when you had nearly passed out from the blood loss, but it still leaves you feeling dizzy and oddly warm.

You don't want that feeling from anyone, really. It feels sinful. The warmth in your body feels like it taints your soul. At least with the three of them, you have some sort of idea what to expect. Again, you have the beginnings of trust with them. They always ask for permission after the first day in the church. And you always grant it because something deep inside of you feels... sad at the thought of denying them.

Yunho is the gentlest, but he has the biggest thirst. Perhaps he's careful with you on purpose because he knows that you'll be losing a lot of blood. After you offer up your wrist to him, he kisses your forehead before taking as little as possible — which for him is still... a fair amount.

Hongjoong falls somewhere in the middle. He prefers your neck, which you had found always makes you dizzy the fastest, and left you feeling the warmest. He likes to feed at night; he climbs on top of you when everyone besides the designated guard is asleep and the only thing you see when awakening at the feeling of his lips on your throat is his glowing eyes.

Wooyoung... well, for a lack of better words; Wooyoung is feral. He's only fed from you twice since the day in the church because he knows that he can't handle it — he knows he can't stop himself. Maybe going hand in hand with that, feeding into it, is the fact that he waits until his hands are shaking and his throat is bone dry to feed from you because he's so afraid to harm you. When he finally does ask, and you remove your cloak; he doesn't have any preference or favorite. He tackles you and holds you tightly as he feeds from you, moaning and growling all the while.

If Yunho's soft kiss of gratitude leaves you warm, if Hongjoong's preference for your neck makes you hot — Wooyoung's begging eyes and bestial noises throw a match into your very being and set you ablaze.

But it's been two days since any of them last sunk their fangs into you, and you've connected the reasoning as to why. Wooyoung said the High King has a "large appetite" and Manon was making sure you were very hydrated.

You aren't an idiot.

They're preparing you to be sucked dry.

"Not all at once, no," Hongjoong reassures you with a soft squeeze to your hip. "Since we're already more used to your scent, we will make sure they stay in line. Though..." You can tell he doesn't want to tell you this next part, but he does anyway, "I will tell you that I have never known the High King to wait for anything he wants, and he will want you immediately."

He can hear you gulp. Your heartbeat rattling your rib cage. "I will make sure he's gentle, little one. No harm will come to you. I promise."

𖤐❝It is you.❞𖤐

To say that the castle is imposing would be an understatement. You can almost feel all of the darkness wafting off of the expansive building as you grow ever closer.

When you came up the large hill it was situated upon, a bell had started ringing. You didn't have to be told that the sound was to tell others of the return of the councilmen. Others that include the High King and the rest of his council.

   Hongjoong squeezes your hip gently as he hears your heartbeat speeding up.

There's a parade of servants that are lined up by the main doors, all bowing as your entourage finally arrives right in front of the castle.

"Rise." Is all that Hongjoong says, and they all snap into action; running to help the others in tending to the horses or carrying bags.

He jumps down and points to one of them, beckoning him forward. The servant bows, "thank Th-"

    "No time for formalities. Yes, 'thank The Goddess, My Lords have returned safely', blah blah blah. Listen closely. Gather the others. Gather the King. Tell them we have found her."

    Hongjoong watches the boys eyes widen, and follows his gaze. Wooyoung is helping you down, holding you upright as you stumble.

     The Lieutenant looks back to the boy, "did I say stare at her?"

    "Apologies, Lord Kim-"

    "No. I didn't. Hurry now, they have waited long enough."

    The boy disappears before his eyes, nothing but a blur as he hurries to inform the rest of the royals.

    "I told you we should have stopped," he hears Yunho chastise you as he approaches, grabbing the bag of your possessions. They made it painfully clear when someone else tried to carry your things at an early stop in a city — don't do that.

    "I'm fine, really, Lord Jeong," your rebuttal is dulled by the way you cling to Wooyoung for support.

   "Mhm," Hongjoong manages to make his hum the most sarcastic noise on the face of the planet, and smirks as you throw a measly glare his way.

    "You should have a warm bath to soothe your hips-"

     "They're ready for you, My Lords," the boy Hongjoong had sent was already back, panting as he bows.

    "You're fast," Hongjoong smiles, patting his shoulder as he passes, "good job, kid."

    As Wooyoung helps you towards the open doors, the now smiling boy bows once again. When you bow back weakly; the healer yanks you back up. Before you have the chance to question him, the sounds of the castle overwhelm you. 

    It's bustling with life, or rather with undeath, at the return of the councilmen and the quick spreading information that they have come back with their soulmate.

    People are running around, bowing and reuniting and talking amongst themselves. While you feel a lot of eyes on you, wherever you look the person is always quickly looking down and bending at their waist as you pass with Wooyoung on one side of you and Yunho on the other.

    You try to take in everything going on around you, you glance at all of the grandeur with awe in your eyes that makes the Vampires smile. They know you've never left your village before they arrived and effectively stole you away; and they've taken great pleasure in showing you all kinds of things at every opportunity, every city that you passed through.

    "-had better be important." Someone's sleepy grumble breaks your inspection of the walls and their decorations as Hongjoong throws open a door.

    "Family!" He smiles brightly, earning another groan.

    "How can you possibly be so energetic after such a journey?"

    Wooyoung helps you up the small step into the room, and the idle chatter stops. When Yunho closes the door to the room behind you, it cuts off the lively noise of the castle.

    The room must be a meeting area. Almost all of the space is taken up by an enormous table, nine chairs around it.

    "Dear Goddess..." Your eyes flick to the man who spoke. He has hair that matches Yunho, a light blue. He feels... familiar. He's looking at you like he's looking past your skin, into your soul.

    Because he is.

   He barely even registers that you've grown up, that you look almost entirely different. Because your soul looks exactly the same even as the years have worn down the edges of it. "(Y/n)?"

    The others look between you.

  You hold onto Wooyoung's sleeve as your gut fills with unease, not enjoying their eyes on you one bit.

    "This is her." Hongjoong pulls back a chair and sits back with a wide smirk. "This is our soulmate."

    The room explodes with action.

    You're yanked from Wooyoung's side, into the arms of a buff man. "I knew it! I knew we would find you! Oh, you're so soft," he's nearly purring in your ear, holding you tightly as your feet hover above the ground.

    Two of them are asking a million questions at once, directed towards you and towards the trio that is responsible for finding you.

    The familiar man slaps his hands together and starts praying, thanking The Goddess in jumbled and hurried words.

    At the head of the table, the Vampire with pink hair lets his jaw drop. "...What?"

    The chaos continues, questions flying and making your head hurt even though you don't even try to answer them.

    "Quiet!" The pink haired man bellows, and everyone stills effectively immediately. The man with his arms around you tightens his grip.

    You've already made a guess, and it's proven right. This is the High King. You don't dare look at him after all of the rumors you've heard. It was frightening enough when some of the ones you've heard about the Lieutenant were proven right.

    Those about Lord Kim were almost harmless. Those about High King Park Seonghwa are anything but.

   "Let the girl down," he orders, and the man does so carefully. Yunho is there to steady you, leading your cowering form to the only empty seat beside his own.

    Across the table from Seonghwa, at the other end of the giant table. The distance doesn't provide much comfort when you know just how fast they can move.

    As you sit, Wooyoung speaks with a grin, "isn't she precious?" Hongjoong swears that there's stars in the younger man's eyes, and he can't blame him at all. 

    "Your name is (Y/n)?" Seonghwa ignores his words, looking at you closely and listening to your racing heartbeat.

     "Yes, My King." You whisper, digging your nails into the wooden armrests. You had imagined a thousand different ways this would go if the High King didn't approve of having you as a soulmate. It didn't matter how attached his loyal councilmen were to you if he didn't want you around.

    "It's her. It's her, I have no doubt-" Mingi's voice is cut off by the rushing wind as Seonghwa all but teleports to the other side of the table.

    You yelp as his face is suddenly in the crook of your neck. He sniffs deeply, and grabs onto the armrests next to your hands. You slam your eyes shut, forcing yourself to tilt your head back in submission. He lets out a pleased groan, inching closer.

   The rest watch on, the trio who's already experienced it sharing a smirk as they watch the eldest Vampires skin come in contact with yours.

    The tip of his nose touches your neck and his lips widen in a cheshire grin. A million sparks travel through your body from the contact point. "It is you."

   He leans back, licking his lips. They can all tell he wants to have a taste. The glint in his eyes is undeniable.

   But, much to their surprise, he doesn't. He's holding back. He never holds back.

   He's back in his seat, breathing deeply and swallowing before he speaks. "Might you explain what happened, Hongjoong?"

    As he does, you take a sneaking glance at each of the council. Every time, you're caught — but it doesn't stop you. Especially because they meet your gaze with bright smiles. The only one you don't look at is Seonghwa.

    "You've already been feeding on her?" Yeosang, you've learned, has a small pout as Wooyoung lets slip a comment about how good you taste; and the other two agree with breakneck speed.

     "Have you no self control?" San, ironically the one who grabbed you, slaps Wooyoung's arm.

    "No, no," Hongjoong shakes his hands, "the myths are true. A soulmates blood is... it's a drug. She's a drug. None of you would be able to resist either."

 

     Seonghwa tuts his tongue, "I find that hard to believe." No, he doesn't. Even just smelling your blood through your skin had his fingers itching to grab you and never let go.

    He looks to you. You don't meet his gaze even though he knows you can feel it. "Did they hurt you in their haste?"

    "No, My King."

    Yunho holds back a chuckle at your formality with the man. You were like that with him not too long ago.

   "I don't believe it, either. No body can make a Vampire lose control by their smell alone. Especially not any of us," Jongho takes a deep inhalation, trying to get a whiff.

    Mingi hasn't taken his eyes off of you the entire time. He's afraid that if he even blinks that he will wake up from this dream.

   "She can." Wooyoung stands quickly, turning and rummaging in a drawer. "Here." He's next to you, a needle in between his fingers.

You take it slowly, looking up at him with your brows pinched together in confusion. Then, it dawns on you. "Lord Jung, no-"

"Yes. Prove to them that The Goddess has crafted you just for us. Even the blood that pumps from your heart is created with our souls in mind."

You look to Hongjoong. He promised no harm would come to you, and this seemed like a surefire way to get yourself bitten. But he nods.

You feel like you've never been so exposed in your life.

   There's eight pairs of eyes on you, each of which belonging to a Vampire more frightening than the last one you look at.

    As you scan the royals slowly, your hand starts trembling. "Do- do I have to, My Lords?"

    "Yes," Yunho meets your gaze as you come back to him quickly after taking a peek at the High King. "It's okay ba." He's taken up your dialect in your two weeks together. It makes you slightly less nervous. "We won't let them get out of control."

You take a deep breath and look down at your hands. You pinch the needle tighter and bite your tongue as you prick your finger.

You know realistically that this is a horrid idea. But you seem to trust the three men enough to purposely make yourself bleed in a room full of bloodthirsty strangers.

The reaction is instant and intense, just as it was in the church. San is held back from literally climbing over the table by his belt. Yeosang is sucking in shaking breaths through his mouth, forcing himself to look away. Jongho, the youngest, is slammed back into his chair as he growls and fights against the Lieutenant. Mingi slaps a hand over his mouth, but his eyes still never leave you even as they morph into a crimson color that shows his desires. Wooyoung is smirking as he holds back Seonghwa by his shoulders.

"Please, please," Jongho pleads, meeting your shock widened eyes.

Is he... pleading with you?

"Just a lick," he pants, his red eyes filled with hunger and primal want, "just one?"

"We told you," Hongjoong giggles at the youngests pout, "she's nearly irresistible. Yunho," he nods to the taller man; and he gets the message.

"No!" San whines, a legitimate sorrow in his voice as Yunho leans over and licks the blood from the tip of your finger. He groans as he falls back into his chair defeated, Seonghwa and Jongho following suit.

The lot of them are breathing heavily, purposely to get the remaining scent of your blood or unintentionally from the ton of bloodlust they were just smacked with that was unlike anything they've ever experienced.

You cower in the chair, gulping past the lump in your throat. You were certain that something would go horribly wrong, but the trio held true to their promises to keep you fairly safe.

"I-" The King stutters, gripping the edge of the table with a vengeance. "I should... we should..."

"Take your time, Hwa," Hongjoong chuckles, reaching over and rubbing your arm gently —

"Welcome home, little one."

𖤐❝She is delicate compared to us.❞𖤐

       Seonghwa sits back on his throne slowly, grabbing the sides with trembling hands. He's deeply regretting not sinking his teeth into you, but he knows that this is a... delicate situation.

    When he had found the rest of his soulmates, they were already turned. And while their blood tasted good, it wasn't nearly as tempting as whatever divine curse you are.

    He's been waiting since the day he was born to finally be complete. Now he has all eight of his soulmates under the same roof and he let you be lead away to rest — to rest! He should be worshipping you right now! 

     "Ymanya!" He yells loudly, leaning forward with his head in his hands.

    "Yes, My King?" The elderly looking woman bows as she quickly runs to the throne.

    "I have a new job for you."

    "A job, King?"

    "Yes, a promotion. You are no longer the manager of the staff," he leans back and crosses his legs as he looks down at her. "This job is much more important, so I need you to listen closely, yes?"

     "Of course."

    "You will be the keeper of the Lady of Halazia."

   "The Lady?! You finally found her?" She clasps her hands together, tilting her head back in a short prayer.

     "Indeed, and she is a human," he thinks back to you, your image is haunting him, "she... she is delicate compared to us. I am placing her under your care. If harm is to befall her in any way when we are not present — any manner at all, I will hold you personally responsible. If she trips and falls, I will push you down the stairs. If she gets a cold, I will make you sleep outside. Should she go hungry, you will not even see a drop of blood for weeks. Do you understand where I am going with this?"

    "Yes, My King," she nods, "you needn't worry. I will take the utmost care of the Lady."

     "Good. You are my most capable servant, have I told you that before?" He half-smiles, watching her return the favor.

   "Many times, King."

    "Make sure that it keeps true. We have waited a long time for her, make her feel welcome. Have Gele accompany you, as well. She is good with humans."

   When she bows and turns to leave, he calls out before she can —

    "One more thing, Ymanya."

    "Yes, My King?"

    "Report back to me with what you learn about her. I want to know everything about our Lady."

𖤐❝Why else would The Goddess give you such a fate?❞𖤐

    Clang!

   "Gele, be careful."

You stir at the sound of footsteps around you; groaning as you nuzzle deeper into the pillow.

"Shh, don't wake the Lady." The soft voice whispers, "Lord Jeong will have our heads."

You sit up quickly as you realize where you are.

The chambers they provided you with are bigger than your entire home back in Caethnor.

After being led to them by a servant, who was (very threateningly) told to treat you with the utmost respect, you were left alone for a while.

You did not mind one single bit. It was the first time you had been alone for more than fifteen minutes in days.

You had sat down on edge the large bed and hummed. It was... very comfortable. Just to feel it, you thought as you laid back — and then you were promptly asleep.

By the look of the sun casting the startled strangers in the golden hour light, that had to have been a few hours ago.

The two women jump back, one of them clutching an empty bucket to her chest tightly, "ah!"

"What are you doing?" You scramble to your knife, gripping the handle when the older looking woman speaks.

"Oh, My Lady please! Please, don't fret! Lord Jeong sent us to fill you a bath," she explains quickly, raising her hands to show you that she means no harm.

You eye them frantically, the bucket and the fact that they seem dressed like the other servants you had seen corroborate with her words. You let go of the dagger on your boot and bow to them, "sorry, you startled me."

    When you come back up, they look completely in shock. "...Is something the matter?"

    "My Lady, you needn't bow to us," the younger girl with red hair shakes her head, "you are our superior."

    You rub your eye as you slide to the edge of the bed, "what?" You must still be foggy with sleep. 

    "Oh, Gele," the older woman turns to the redhead, "she was a common villager, she does not know these things! My apologies," she turns back to you, smiling sweetly, "this all must be very drastically different for you."

    "Uhm," you clear your throat. It's the first time someone has acknowledged that. "I suppose it is."

    "Here, come with me, child," she approaches slowly and waits for you to grasp her hand. "My name is Ymanya, this here is Gele." She explains softly as you take her wrinkled hand, standing to follow her. "We will be your maids."

    "I do not think I will need any maids..."

    "Then our jobs should be easy," Gele giggles lightly as she sets the bucket down, testing the temperature of the water in the tub that they had managed to fill without waking you.

    It was only separated from the rest of the chamber by a folding screen, and you almost wonder how they managed such a task before you remember how little sleep you had gotten on the journey.

    "Forgive my bluntness," Ymanya hums before going on, "but the Lords have hand picked us to care for you, and we must do our very best to please them. They have told us they will have nothing but perfection when it comes to your wellbeing." She can sense your hesitation about having someone doing things for you, and she places a hand on your shoulder, "you can think of us as your assistants. We are here to make your life easier, My Lady."

    You can't think of anything that you can't do on your own — but you know that it's probably a useless task to argue with the council. "Must you call me that if we will be so close?"

     "What else would we call you?" Gele asks as she settles on the stool in the area.

    "My name, I would think," you laugh a bit, watching Ymanya reach into a cabinet and retrieve a towel.

    "The Lords have told us to only refer-"

    "Well, what they don't know won't kill them." You sigh, "please, when it is just us; don't use that ridiculous title. I'm not a Lady." 

    It's their turn to be hesitant, thinking over whether or not this is a test. "You are," Ymanya nods, "you are The Lady of Halazia now. You're fated to the most powerful men in the realm, we should address you with respect."

    You shake your head, having a hard time grasping the concept. You are no Lady, you're just a nun from Caethnor. "Respect should be earned-"

    "My Lady (Y/n)," Gele perks up, gesturing towards you, "that might please both you and our Lords. Is that okay?"

    "I... well, I suppose that's better." You give her a smile, "I am okay with that. Should the Lords have a problem with it, I will try to tell them such."

    You jump when Ymanya's hand comes in contact with the back of your dress. "Actually!" You turn around quickly, "this is one task I would much rather do on my own." You ramble out quickly, shaking your head.

    "Of course, Lady (Y/n)," the grey haired woman smiles apologetically, bowing as she ushers the younger girl out, "but I bid you not tell the Lords. We promised Lord Jeong that we would help you. But, I know that it would probably be most uncomfortable for you."

    "It would," you gulp, making the woman chuckle. You're so tremendously different from her Lords. You were born a commoner but you were fated for royalty... it might be nice to have someone like you in the castle. "I will not tell if you don't."

   "A deal, then." She steps forward again and takes your hands, looking at you sincerely, "I hope to help you adjust to life here, Lady (Y/n). I know it is all a lot of change... but you seem like a strong girl. Why else would The Goddess give you such a fate?"

      "Thank you, Ymanya," you squeeze her hands gently. She has an aura of nurture around her, you don't even care that her hands are freezing cold. She's a warm person.

     "We have all waited a long time for you," she looks down, squeezing your hands back, "I am glad to have you join us, My Lady (Y/n)."

𖤐❝I should educate you quickly.❞𖤐

     "Lady (Y/n)?" Gele knocks on the wall next to the screen divider, hovering just outside of it.

    "Yes?" You hum from the water. You should thank them for working so fast to get the hot water in the tub, it feels wonderful on your sore muscles. It's a pleasant feeling to truly wash yourself, not just clean up in whatever body of water you could find. 

    "The Lords Choi have requested your presence in the dining hall after you are finished, should I tell them you accept?" 

    "Uhm..." You sit up in the water, pushing back your hair, "which ones is that, Gele?"

    "The Lords? The Choi brothers, San and Jongho."

     They were both having to be held back, if you recall correctly — and you do. You aren't entirely sure if you want to be alone with them-

    "My Lady, if I may..."

    "Yes, what it is?"

     "Lord Kim will also be in attendance, if that eases your anxieties. I know you traveled with him."

   

       It peeves you that it does, in fact, ease some of your worries. With a sigh of trepidation, you go against your want to just crawl back into the bed and tell her, "yes, tell them I will join them, please."

     "Right away, Lady (Y/n)." 

You hear the click-clack of her shoes and the soft closing of the door, waiting for it to clunk into place before you stand and carefully pull yourself out of the tub.

This place compared to everything you've ever known is like comparing night and day.

You've never known anything besides your little home, and here you are in chambers big enough to put your house inside of; with people calling you 'Lady' and luxuries that you didn't even think of when you thought of how royals might live.

As you dry yourself with the ridiculously soft fabric, you hear the door open again. Ymanya's voice follows, "yes, place them just over there on the bed. The Lady will go through them."

"Shall I take her measureme-"

"Not tonight, she has had rough travels. We will-"

"Ymanya?" You call softly, wrapping the fabric around you tightly at the sound of an unfamiliar man's voice.

"Yes, My Lady?" She responds quickly, shooing the man out of the room and closing the door behind him.

"Who was that?"

"The royal tailor, he has brought some gowns for you. Might I help you get dressed?" She stops just outside of the divider, remembering that you aren't just any Lady or Lord she's served. You aren't used to having people wait on you.

"Gowns? What about my clothes, where are they?" You peek your head out the side of the screen, jumping back when you come face to face with the elderly woman.

"Apologies," she bows a bit as she backs up, "they are being cleaned. And the Lords have had these dresses prepared for a long time, it would greatly please them if you wore one." She looks at you in a way that tells you it's probably a smart idea to start pleasing them; eyes flicking between you and the pile of clothing. "Would you like me to help you pick one?"

Begrudgingly, you step out from behind the privacy barrier and hold the fabric around you tightly. "I suppose so."

She goes through them as she hangs them up in the large wooden closet in the room. They all look like they'll fit you, maybe a few adjustments needed to be perfect — but that isn't what makes you hesitate to pick.

What gives you pause, is the fact that they are all so clearly made for a proper Lady. Supported bodices and flared sleeves and frills and lace corsets in the backs of most of them. Even the basic white shift and stockings you now had on were made of what feels like heaven against your skin.

"Please, My Lady," she sighs, "I know that you probably have never worn such gowns, but I fear the Lords will grow impatient."

You trill your lips as you look over them again. You certainly don't want to make them wait even longer, so you force yourself to choose. "This one."

You can't lie and say it isn't beautiful, because it is. The deep purple fabric has swirling flowers embroidered on the skirt, and the black bodice is meant to be tightened with the matching ribbon that weaves in the back of the torso. But it's meant to be worn by royalty, and you feel far from worthy.

She helps you slip the fabric over your head and smoothes out the skirt with a small smile, "have you ever had your hair done, Lady (Y/n)?" She asks as she comes behind you and begins tightening the built in corset.

   "Not since I was a child, no..."

    "Allow me to do it, come," she leads you quickly to the short chair by the vanity and sits you down. "A Lady should always have her hair done, that is one thing I must insist on." She jokes lightly, carefully combing through your hair.

    "Only because you insist." And only because it reminds you of a simpler time, when your mother would sit you in her lap and put intricate traditional braids in your hair. "May I ask you a question, Ymanya?"

    "Of course, My Lady. I will answer any questions you have."

    "Is there any traditions in Halazia that I should be aware of? I didn't have the best education on those kinds of things."

    "Oh, there is many. Too many to tell you them all now, I'm afraid. Perhaps you can ask the Lords to provide you a tutor — if you want, of course."

    You hum in response, fingers tracing the frill of lace on your sleeve. "Well, any that I should know tonight?"

    She thinks for a moment, her hands pausing as something comes to mind. "Well... perhaps one that I should warn you of."

    "Warn?" You look up to her, eyebrows raised.

   "It's not so much of a tradition as it is... as it is just something that happens. Just something the K-" The smell of your fear is growing as she speaks, and she figures she should stop lest the King have her head if he smells it as well. But you look so pure and... you remind her of someone. She wants you to have a fighting chance; not be smacked in the face with what the night has in store for you. "I'm sorry, My Lady, might I ask you somewhat of an improper question?"

    "Improper how...?"

   "Lady, forgive me, but are you a virgin?"

   "What?!" You squeal, eyes widened at such a sudden and personal question. "I- What kind-"

    "Lady (Y/n), please answer the question."

    You turn back around in the chair quickly. "I... I am."

    That changes just about everything. She needs to tell them, and fast. "Do you know... do you know how those things happen?"

    "Ymanya, please! This is much too scandalous to speak so freely of..."

    She sighs, going back to fixing your hair as she speaks, "in your village, perhaps. But in Halazia, we speak rather plainly about sex. The Lords are often seen kissing and," she clears her throat, "kissing among other things around the castle. It is not taboo here."

    "Why are you telling me this?" You ask shortly. You want this conversation to be over. Because you had just imagined Wooyoung and Yunho kissing each other, and it gave you the same heat in your body that you felt after they drank from you. You need to pray after conjuring such a sinful scene.

    "I would like to warn you, because I can tell you are pure of soul and of body... the Lords do not only have a strong craving for blood."

    You hesitate to ask, but you feel you must.

    "Meaning what exactly?"

    "Meaning; perhaps if you do not know what to expect, I should educate you quickly."

𖤐❝What else am I to do when your heart smells so fearful?❞𖤐

Your heart is pounding wildly, despite the fact that you have now been sitting down for a few minutes.

The large dining hall was empty, and that somehow made the situation worse. Now you had to sit in silence as you thought over everything that Ymanya told you as she finished your hair and led you to the room.

Wooyoung conveniently left out the fact that the Kings large appetite was not limited to blood when you spoke all those nights ago. Ymanya filled in that missing information with the fact that he had ravaged each of his soulmates the night he found them, and their sounds traveled through the whole castle.

And she was regretful to tell you that she expected no different in his treatment of you. She did, however, tell you that she would try to speak with the King and get him to be gentle. She had been serving the castle since before he was crowned, you had learned along with the barrage of information. He trusted her word and took her advice on things to do with staff and care of the estate.

"Your heart is about to beat out of your chest." Hongjoong's voice spooks you into jumping up from the chair. He's entered along with San and Jongho... and Seonghwa. If the King is here, Ymanya hasn't gotten to speak to him.

If it wasn't before, it certainly is now.

"Hey, what's the matter with you, little one?" He asks softly as he joins your side, carefully lowering you back into the seat. "Has something happened?"

"Uh," you shake your head, trembling, "no. No, My Lord, my apologies. I don't mean to worry you."

"What else am I to do when your heart smells so fearful?"

"Are you frightened of us?" San asks quietly as he takes a seat across from you. "Because you needn't be."

"I'm sorry, My Lords, I am just anxious..."

   "Hmm," Hongjoong pouts as he eyes you, "what for? Didn't I say I would take care of you?"

     "Yes, Lord, but-"

     "Then don't fret." He leans and pulls you forward gently, kissing your forehead. "You have no reason to be anxious. Let's enjoy a meal with our soulmates."

𖤐❝I promise myself to you.❞𖤐

     You had blissfully forgotten all of your worries as you spoke with the men, as you ate together.

    You had forgotten most of your fear of the man with pink hair who sat at the head of the table. He's still undeniably intimidating, even as he watches you and the brothers exchange stories with a small smile.

You had, that is, until the sound of hurried footsteps and a voice rang out. "High King!"

Ymanya is bowing repeatedly as she hurries into the room, and seeing her suddenly reminds you why you were freaking out when you sat down.

He doesn't even look away from you as he addresses her. "Is this important, Ymanya?"

"Yes, My King. It is most urgent. I deeply apologize for disturbing you, but I have-"

He looks towards her with a glare, and she stops her rambling. "Then, what is so important that you must barge in here?"

"I'm sorry, My King. Might I speak with you in the-"

"Speak here."

All of your eyes are on her now, and she meets your gaze. Yours isn't annoyed or curious like theirs. Yours is wide and nervous. You shake your head quickly.

Having your maid tell one man that you were a virgin so that he didn't hurt you was one thing. Having her speak it in front of four of them would make you want to disappear from embarrassment.

"Out with it, Ymanya."

"Don't," you manage to squeak as she opens your mouth. "Ymanya, don't."

She looks between the two of you. His gaze demanding and dark, yours scared and embarrassed.

San tilts his head as he leans forward, "Ymanya, you know better than to keep secrets from us."

"O-of course, my Lord, I-"

"Ymanya, please!" You grab Hongjoong's arm as you stand, gripping his sleeve as you look to him, "tell her to stop, Lord Kim. I beg."

"Enough of this!" Seonghwa shouts; slamming his hands on the table, sending you flying into Hongjoongs lap to cower. "Enough. There will be no more of this. If Ymanya knows something important enough to interrupt us, I will know what."

Hongjoong wraps his arms around your trembling figure, "Seonghwa, you are frightening her." He whispers in the tense silence.

"Perhaps you should just speak, Ymanya," Jongho says slowly, placing a hand on Seonghwa's shoulder to ground him.

"I-" She bows deeply, "I'm very sorry My Lady (Y/n). I must tell him. I do not wish for you to be harmed. Your embarrassment will pass."

"Why would I harm her?" He snarls, approaching her slowly. He towers over her, glaring down.

"My King," she looks away from you and towards the floor. "The Lady is a virgin. I bid you, please do be gentle with her... I know how you are with your soulmates, My King. I only wish for her soul to remain unharmed — for you not to taint your relationship. This is why I tell you."

It's silence for a long moment. Sill. Everyone unmoving. Your ears are ringing and hot as you feel the brothers looking at you.

"You may leave." Seonghwa says, his voice tense as he makes his way back to his seat. "Thank you, Ymanya."

"Of course, My King. Apologies for interrupting you, My Lords." She pauses at you, you look like you want to bolt; but Hongjoongs arms around you stop you from doing so. "Forgive me, My Lady."

"Leave now," Hongjoong nods to the doorway, pulling you closer to his chest.

Her footsteps hurry away just as fast as they came.

Silence. Stillness. The air charged with tension.

"Is this true?" Seonghwa speaks up, eyes back on you and unmoving once more. "You are a virgin?"

You nod, just barely.

"Speak, girl."

"Seonghwa, she's embarrassed, leave her be-" Jongho is cut off your yelp as you're suddenly pulled from Hongjoong's lap.

The King has you pressed to the wall by your shoulders, holding you against it as he looks into your very soul; his eyes red. "Speak."

"Yes." You whimper, looking away quickly.

"How is that possible?"

"Because she hasn't had sex yet, dumbass," Hongjoong joins his side, looking down at you with a small smirk.

"But you're so beautiful." He whispers, his eyebrows pushed together as he inspects you. "How did nobody take you yet?"

"It... it is not done in my village, My King. We wait for our soulmates..."

He bites his lip, taking a few deep breaths.

"Not at all?" San asks as he and Jongho join the elder Vampires in crowding you.

"Not even hand stuff?" Jongho looks, arguably, a little too eager — his previous ideal of letting you have space is gone.

"H-hand stuff?" You gulp, flinching when Seonghwa all but falls onto you. His head on your shoulder and his body pressed against you as he lets out a groan.

"You've never..." Hongjoong trails off, moving his head side to side as he thinks of the words, "touched anyone? A cock? A pussy, maybe?"

"Lord Kim!" You gasp, scandalized, "don't say such things! Of course I haven't touched-" You clear your throat, fidgeting against Seonghwa's weight. "No, I haven't. What is the great big deal? I'm already embarrassed, you needn't tease me."

"Oh, this isn't even close to teasing," San smirks, leaning against the wall next to you. "Wait until Wooyoung finds out, that will be teasing."

"You're going to tell everyone?" You pout, already knowing that, if they're making a big deal of this, the others certainly will as well.

"We have to, little one. Otherwise they might jump your bones before we can do the ceremony."

"Ceremony? What ceremony? I don't want to-"

"You must," Seonghwa growls from your neck, startling you, "we must. When a Vampire takes a virgin, it is different. It is not just simply sex. Because the veil of our souls is thinner, our souls will touch when I... when..." He pants, his hands grabbing your hips. "Oh, Goddess, give me strength..."

"We will wait until you are ready," Jongho quickly soothes any fear of being forced into a literal soul shaking ceremony, "otherwise, the bond between your souls will be tainted. And — we don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

   That's a little bit of hypocrisy when you're still pinned to the wall.

"It's that powerful?" You ask with wide eyes, fiddling with your sleeves. Talk about pressure. You had a friend who told you losing your virginity was scary, and your fear has been multiplied.

"Indeed, it is," Hongjoong reaches and strokes the back of Seonghwa's head from where it's still buried in your neck. "It's the greatest honor for a Vampire to take someone's virginity. That's why people always sacrifice virgins to us, but really we never care. We don't touch them, it's too intimate."

     "Please," Seonghwa whispers mumbled, his lips electrifying your skin, "promise yourself to me. I can make you feel so good when the day comes. I can show you pleasure that you never even dreamt of."

    Hongjoong and San share a smirk as they hear your heartbeat thudding faster and faster and faster.

    None of them were able to resist Seonghwa when they first came to the castle. Wooyoung was the fastest to cave; he let the older Vampire take him on the stairs, he was so fired up. Yeosang held out the longest, he was the shyest, but still he only held out a measly month and a half.

   Nobody can resist Seonghwa.

    Not even you. It's a mix of anticipation and fear which makes you speak —

   "I promise myself to you."

𖤐❝It aches in my bones.❞𖤐

     "This place truly never ends, does it?"

   You follow Gele the next morning, taking in every little detail as she slowly shows you around.

    "It is... expansive," she giggles, opening up yet another door that leads to yet another never ending hall. "This is the- oh, Lord Song." She bows quickly, drawing your attention towards the man.

   "My Lord." You bow as well, greeting the blue haired man.

    "Ah, what good timing! I was on my way to your chambers," he smiles at you as you rise, his eyes bright in the morning sun that filters through the large windows.

   "Really? What for, Lord?"

   "I feel as if we have much to discuss. Gele, if you'll leave us." The woman pauses, taking a look towards you. When he clears his throat, she's quick to disappear.

    "Come," he takes your hand and leads you back the way you came. The tingles make your fingers twitch, but you don't let go. "How are you finding your way so far, (Y/n)?"

    "Good, I suppose. Thank you, My Lor-"

   "You needn't be so formal with me. We know each other!" He throws another smile your way. "Wooyoung told me that you remember me. I'm glad."

    "Oh, yes," you nod lightly, "I remember... some. Mostly from my early teenage years."

    "I have always been there," he admits quickly as you enter the hall in which your chambers reside, "I tried to check on you at least once a day, even if I didn't show myself."

    "Seriously?" You ask jaw-dropped as he opens the door.

    "Indeed. How do you find your chambers?"

    His quick change of subject catches you off guard, "uhm... good! Very good, My Lor-"

   "Mingi." He corrects you quickly, hesitating to let go of your hand.

He looks around the room as if to inspect it. "I haven't been here in some years... not since I lost contact with you. I couldn't bare it."

     "Has this-" You hesitate, watching him closely as he takes a seat on the vanity stool.

   "Oh, go ahead! I'm sure you have many questions, and I will give you many answers."

   You lower yourself onto the end of the bed, looking around the large chambers. "Has this room always been for me?"

    "For a very long time." He nods, somewhat of a nostalgic look overcoming him. "After the first time you heard me, we had it renovated. We were sure that you could be joining us any day. We had no idea we would have to wait so long."

   "Oh..." You nod, not knowing exactly what to say to him. You feel a bit guilty for whatever reason.

    "I used to come here everyday and pray that The Goddess would keep you safe. But, after I could no longer find you, I must admit... I lost my faith for a while."

   "Might I ask," you start softly, "how did you manage to lose me? Lord Jung told me that you were veil walking, and I'm afraid I don't know much about that, but... it seems odd for it to just stop."

    "Oh, well, I am no walker. I'm just a seer, The Goddess blesses me with visions. After you were born, I felt it — well, we all felt it but I felt it. I felt your soul come into creation. And I begged The Goddess to show you to me, but... all I ever got was blurry images. I learned how to veil walk so that I could find you. Yunho tried, but his soul isn't strong enough for such powers."

    You listen to him closely as he continues. "Veil walking is always easier when you are presenting to a child. Their souls are more- more uhm... susceptible. I thought it would be different for us, because we're soulmates. But I think I lost you when you reached womanhood."

    You think back to the time. It was around your first blood that he no longer appeared to you. "Oh, yes. That must have been it. I was no longer a child..."

    "Must have been." He hums, tilting his head, "why do you ask? Seems an odd thing to be curious about with so much more going on."

    Why did you ask? You wonder to yourself for a moment before it suddenly dawns on you. "I do believe I missed you."

    His eyes widen ever so slightly, his heart starts beating a little faster. "You did?"

   "It's odd but-" you swallow, looking away, "you came to be a sort of comfort to me. Especially after my mother passed. I felt terribly alone... but you were always there. I could feel you even when you didn't speak. I started to think you were my guardian angel."

    There's a pause between you, and you look up to see tears forming in his eyes. "Did I say some-"

    "Might I give you that hug now?" His eyes are begging. His entire being wants to embrace you. To hold your body and not just hover over your soul like he was forced to do as he watched you grow up.

    "Yes." You say before you can think.

    "I have missed you, too." He tackles you onto the bed, his arms wrapped around you tightly and your arms quickly giving him the same treatment; albeit weaker.

"My soul craves you in a way that aches. It aches in my bones. When I could no longer see you, I was a mess — I could not sleep, I would not eat, I-" You lean your head onto his shoulder and he sighs softly, holding you closer.

     It feels so... right. Like you were made to embrace one another.

    "I am happy to see you again, Mingi."

𖤐❝You can handle one more glass, can't you?❞𖤐

    "Are you not eating, My King?" You ask as you note his lack of a plate. The others are all eating along side you.

    "Not yet," he grins lightly, standing to pour you some more wine. You've already had three glasses.

    "Oh, My King, I don't usually drink so much-"

    "Well, this is a celebration, isn't it?" He hums while filling your cup, "our first meal together as a completed soul. It's an occasion to drink." He sits back down, holding his cup to yours, "cheers."

    You take a breath as you clink your glass to his, "cheers." If they keep up this pace of refilling your wine every time you take a sip, you'll have to be carried back to your chambers. You would already have to be shown the way, no chance you could find your way back through all the twists and turns while your head was so light. 

     So light, in fact, that you fail to notice that the King doesn't even drink from his glass. You fail to notice his ever present gaze on you.

    He said he would wait for you to be ready for intimacy — he said no such thing about waiting to feed on you. He's a patient man, yes. But also one with an insatiable hunger.

    He has to have at least a sip of blood a day. Usually he doesn't care from who. But since he had smelled your blood, everything else tasted... off.

    He doesn't indulge much in food like the others, only things he liked when he was living. But even his favorite food made him sick. His body only wants you.

    "You'll have to teach me sometime," you bow to Yeosang with a slight slur in your voice, "archery is one thing I never did pick up."

    "But she can fish like nobodies business!" Wooyoung chuckles, leaning his head on your shoulder; similarly inebriated. For every glass you had drunk, he drunk about three. Vampires have fast metabolism, you suppose. "She spears them with a stick! How badass is that?"

    You laugh as you lean your head on his, and the sound of your joy has hearts beating all around the table. "I can teach you someday, if you like. I know something that My Lord doesn't," you giggle drunkenly.

    "I would like to learn," San pipes up with a smile, "I can teach you something in return! Woodworking, forgery, armory, sewing, you name it."

    "You do all of those?" You ask in awe, usually a worker might know one or two; but then, he has been around a long time. He has had time to master multiple skills.

    "Oh, yeah," Hongjoong throws his arm around the man, "Sannie is our jack of all trades." He smiles brightly, kissing his cheek.

    You've quickly gotten used to their public displays of affection, it was clear that they had no qualms in showing their love for one another.

    And it didn't bother you. You had thought that it might, being that even married couples didn't show much affection where you are from.

   "Yunho mi," you call to the man, "I have a question."

    "Ask away, (Y/n) mi," he smiles, leaning his head onto his hand.

    "How do you make the fire?"

   "The fire?" He smirks as he conjures a small flame at his finger tip.

    The look of your shock earns you a few laughs. "Yes! How?"

    "Magic," he shrugs nonchalantly, "I can do all sorts of things. I can show you, but I'm afraid it can't be taught. You'll have to stick to San and Yeosang for learning new things."

    "Oh, I would love to see," you smile, a sparkle in your eyes that has the man just about ready to show you every trick he knows right here and now.

    You lean back in your chair as a servant reaches for your plate, giving her the room to gather it. "Thank you." She pauses at your words, looking to the closest Lord; who happens to be Wooyoung because he's attached to your hip. He nods, giving her a stern look.

    "Of course, My Lady. You needn't thank me, 'tis my job." She says just above a whisper as she gathers the nearby plates.

"You're so cute," Wooyoung grins as he pulls you over to him and kisses your cheek.

Seonghwa stops the girl when she goes to collect your glass, "let her finish it."

"Of course, My King," she nods, gathering what else she can before leaving with one more glance spared towards you.

     Hongjoong leans forward, topping of your drink even as you gesture for him not to, "you don't need to bow to anyone besides us, you're the Lady of the castle."

    You hold back a groan as you look at the glass. You don't want to be rude. "Lord Kim, I'm should not drink anymore, perhaps someone else-"

"Drink, little one," he's next to you in a second, picking up your cup. "You can handle one more glass, can't you? For me~?"

Oh. Oh, that pesky heat in your skin is back.

"O-okay," you blink up at him, suddenly very still in your seat as he lifts the cup to your lips.

"Chug," he smirks as you take the glass to your lips, never leaving his gaze as you begin to drink.

"Chug, chug, chug," San and Wooyoung chant as you do just that. The others smile as they watch, Mingi whistling in an impressed manner as you keep up with the way Hongjoong tilts the glass.

A drop leaves the corner of your mouth and travels down your neck. Yeosang watches with wide eyes. "Excuse me." Is all he says before he disappears, a suspicious blush on his face.

You swallow the sweet wine quickly as he all but pours it down your throat, keeping your dazed eyes on his; taking in the way the corner of his lips curl up and expose his fangs.

As he moves the empty glass, you go to take a breath — only to be met with his lips on yours.

You squeal in surprise, your hands hesitating before finding purchase on his wrists as he cups your cheeks.

"Oh, he's going to eat her alive," Wooyoung's joke from beside you never reaches your ears.

Hongjoong rests his forehead on yours, taking in your heavy breaths. When you open your eyes, you find that his have turned red. "Let the King and I drink from you." He hums, cradling your heated cheek, "won't you, little one?"

"Yes..." You slur softly, holding his wrists tightly. "Please."

The others are beyond jealous now, but they let it go. Their time will come. They should have pieced together that they were making you drink so much so that you wouldn't feel as much effects of the blood loss that's to come. Sneaky bastards, taking advantage of your naive nature— why didn't they think of that?

   "Come, then," he giggles as he helps up your stumbling figure.

     His plan worked like a charm. After hearing how Seonghwa hadn't fed, he came up with it. He's very observant of you, he knows that even the littlest praise or affection leaves you dazed. That, paired with the ever flowing wine that would also help you start pumping more blood, made you putty in his hands.

    He felt a little bad, but what was he to do?

   You were afraid of Seonghwa, but he had to drink lest he wither away.

    And it's been days since he tasted you, he was starting to get restless.

    It's not their fault your blood is a drug to them.

𖤐❝HALAZIA❞𖤐

𖤐❝NEXT TIME❞𖤐

"I want you to teach me." You whisper as you look up to him. His eyes are still on the pages, but he isn't registering a single word — and you know it. "Please, My Lord. You said that you would teach me anything I wanted to know."

His nails are digging into the hard cover of the book, leaving crescent indentations. "And that-" He gulps, "that is something you want to learn?"

"Yes." You lean forward, tilting your head, "I trust you to teach me well."

Oh, you probably shouldn't. He's only one bat of your eyelashes away from ripping your dress off and saying 'fuck the ceremony.'

𖤐❝CURSE YOUR NAME❞𖤐