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venmondiese · 3 months ago

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A PRINCE’S FAREWELL

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: As Prince Aemond prepares to fight at Rook Rest, you accompany him before he departs.

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader.

✧word count: 2.3k

✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, oral (f), aemond being a pussy champ (canon), and he lowkey gets hard from his own arrogance.

✧NOTE: i saved these from drafts, this was supposed to come out after episode 4, so all the events are from ep 4.

AEGON'S PARALLEL ONE SHOT: A king's farewell

“He is an imbecile” Aemond states, as he places the eyepatch carefully on his head. He has finished putting on his riding clothes, and after coming from the council, he seems more than upset.

“He is the King” you say to your husband, sitting on the bed as you watch him get ready. Your right leg was above the other, bouncing your feet softly in amusement, your skirts moving with the motion. “Imbecile or not”

“We made him the King.” Aemond remarks sharply, clearly upset. You could see it in how he moves. How his jaw clenches and he sighs, almost growling in annoyance. “He doesn’t appreciate it”

You hum, looking at him get ready. He was meticulous, getting every detail good. Making sure his riding clothes were well clasped, and would support the movements of the wind.

“Are you sure some of Rhaenyra’s dragons will go there? I mean… it sounds risky”

“Blacks are stupid like that” he murmurs. “Predictable” he says softly. “Lord Staunton sent a cry for help to his whorish pretender of a Queen”

You look at him; he speaks as if he was an omniscient god, who knew exactly everyone’s steps in a war. It was kind of arousing.

“It isn’t too hard to guess. Dragonstone will be trapped, an isle among loyalists of the True King. Only threat is Meleys, Caraxes is far… at Harrenhal. And the rest of them? Spoiled little dragons that never had seen any war. A very good food for Vhagar” He says confidently. “And yet that so-called Queen has to find allies.” He says, almost in amusement.

You watch him move, taking the gloves as he stands before you, putting the gloves on.

“He froze, like a stupid deer in a hunt” he says, the slight smirk on his lips are a sight of his amusement of the whole deal. “He doesn’t recall the last time he took a High Valyrian class from the Maesters…”

“Aemond” you say, smiling and tilting your head as that humiliation gave him a sense of smugness.

“It is true. He just babbled some words. Our little son can speak better and he is just babe”

You nod, appreciating the fact. Your son was probably the thing that Aemond was most proud of. He doted on Aerion always, and you kept thanking the gods that when the murderers of prince Jaehaerys were in the castle, you had been with the maesters, as your baby was sickly, and he didn't manage to be healthy for long.

“He is two, and he's starting to make some sense in common tongue” you remind him. “He babbles some Valyrian words”

“He is still better than that… idiot” Aemond murmurs. “It was… he deserved it. After he has done” he murmurs, turning away as he fetches the scabbard, and his own sword.

“You mean…?” you ask, moving your legs to place both feet on the ground, witting more straight up.

Aemond stops a bit on his tracks. Imbecile, you imbecile. He thinks, as he turns to you. Your eyes look at him with curiosity, following his every movement and you didn’t miss a thing he spoke. It was as refreshing as frustrating.

It wasn’t that he isn’t fond of you. It’s just that there are things that you are better without knowing, and after all, he was not above the temptations of the flesh and the need of being vulnerable. He couldn’t be that with you.

“What did he do to deserve this cruelty?” you ask softly, standing up.

“What hasn’t he done…?” He murmurs, trying to not make obvious his coldness.

“You mean… when he teased you as kids?” You ask, as it was the only occasion you recalled.

“Hm” he hums, not really wanting a reminder of that. Less the night at the brothel, when Aegon found him with the Madame. He tried to play it cool, but he walked rather quickly to the castle, and to your shared chambers, instead of his personal one, slipping in his side of the bed, and leaving his sword near. If Aegon tried anything with you near, Aemond would have cut his head. And his drunkard King’s guard would have not been able to stop him.

And he smirks at that. Who would stop him now? Cole was away. His mother didn’t speak to him. His grandsire away. Aegon could barely rule the Kingdom, and his King’s guard was useless. More and more with idiotic people like him.

If Aemond was on his place–

He would have done things differently. Would have not underestimated traditions, and would have not changed something as vital as white cloaks. He has to do, instead, all of the work to get castles and strategic support on war. All by himself.

“Let's say Aegon will not underestimate me” he says, as you take the leathery scabbard from his hands, moving the strap to place it on his shoulder, moving delicately to help him put it on.

“He is your brother. He is… hurt. His son just died” Aemond sighs, as he had confided in you the knowledge of how Blood and Cheese were meant for him.

“Yes. I know” he murmurs.

“And he called you the best sword and his closest blood” you remind him.

“Those are not compliments” he murmurs.

You look at him, and smirk, knowing what he thought “Are facts, as you say.” you finish for him. “Still, my love, you are serving him in the greatest of ways” you say making sure the scabbard won’t fall or isn’t well secured.

He hums; you are praising him and encouraging him to follow his own strategies for war, instead of asking the whole council. You nuzzle his cheek, kissing softly there.

“Hm.” He says, a bit delighted by your presence. Soothes his need for destruction.

“Just like I like to serve you in the greatest of ways as a wife” you murmur, pressing soft kisses on his jaw.

His hum comes up is raspy, as he places a hand on your lower back, gripping softly there as he enjoys your pampering.

“Stop delighting yourself in the memory of humiliating Aegon” you say, as if you could read his mind. He was not thinking of that, but the smirk on his lips was one of amusement.

As you turn back to sit on the edge of the bed, he takes his sword, moving closer to you, as he stands in front of you on the bed, leaving the sword on the table nearby.

“You should have seen it.” he murmurs, smiling. “Poor idiot” he says. “You speak High Valyrian better than he does”

You, of no Valyrian heritage as Targaryen’s, knew some words, but only thanks to him. He insisted, for you to know a bit. You could speak it, but read it in its raw form? Horrible. You could understand some books, only if High Valyrian was romanized.

“Sepār mirrī” (just a little) you say, a bit messy, but he smiles at your words.

He was much more fluent at High Valyrian than anyone else you knew. You had heard Princess Rhaenyra or Prince Daemon, rawer. Aemond took it in the time to learn it more fluently. You thought that perhaps it was the difference of teachers. Still, it sounded delightful.

To have him whisper in High Valyrian was a taste of heaven.

“Iēdrosa, sȳrkta. Issa iā mittys” (Still, Better. He is a fool) he murmurs, as he knelt in front of you, his hands on your thighs as he accommodates.

His hands move down, as you look at him, his face at the height of your clavicle. His eyes are deep, looking at you with calculating moves. That has been your husband since the war started. He was always looking with careful and almost cold eyes, slightly smug and drunk on the excitement and promise of war.

“Ao'll ūndegon. Kesan ērinagon bisa vīlībāzma, syt kesan daor sagon iā mittys dombo. Gaoman bisa syt īlva lentor.” He murmurs, sweetly, as he moves his hands under the skirt of your dress, smiling a bit.

You raise your eyebrows, a bit in confusion. He was obviously advanced in High Valyrian, probably fluent as the natives back in the day. You didn’t understand much, barely the words war and win.

“What are you doing?” You ask curiously as his hands slide up under your skirts, and he looks at you, as his lips curl into the faintest smirk.

“I think I need luck before going and killing a dragon” He murmurs. “If this plan is to work.”

You indulge him, as he moves your skirts all the way up, he is quick to accommodate between your open legs, and he moves your underclothes rather quickly, and much more when you are wearing so many cloth layers.

“That is so silly….” You say, as he eagerly pulls down your underclothes “This will not make you win–”

“It will. A proper farewell too” he says, his only eye feasting on your glistening folds, seeing how you made no attempts to refuse him. “Hm.” He hums before pressing his mouth to your cunt.

His tongue snaked out, moving it up all the way in your folds as he heard your satisfied sigh. He loved all the little sounds you let out while he pleasures you. Aemond was a lustful man, not openly, but rather a subtle yet passionate lover.

His tongue laps on your cunt, relishing on the taste that he has neglected as of late. He used to do it often, making you cum two or three times, depending on his mood. He would stay hours, if permitted, eating you out.

He closes his one eye, pure bliss on his expression as his hands wrap around your thighs to scoop you closer and he also presses his face closer to your cunt.

The whimpers you leave, feeling the tip of his nose tease on your folds, drives him insane. He is rock hard on his pants, his tongue moving more at the idea of fucking you. His nose slightly presses more into your cunt, searching a bit blindly to where is your clit, just to hear the loud moan you leave, and how your hands grip the edge of the bed as you do so.

“Valzȳrys…” you whimper, legs moving a bit more open as he has to groan. Fucking tease, he thinks, with your perfect Valyrian that turns him on so much.

His tongue works double after that, as if it was a little incentive for his own delight. The jaw moves, tensing a bit as his tongue keeps on working, delving deeper into her dripping pussy. He feels the slickness of your arousal, as his face is buried and he can only feel the heat and wetness of it all.

You feel how his hand grabs yours, interlocking your fingers together as he keeps on feasting on your cunt. It was driving you mad. Each little stroke with his tongue made you roll your eyes and re accommodate your hips closer to his head, almost grinding to ride his face, needing the comfort and pleasure that only he brings you.

“Fuck, Aemond…” you moan, and she gives a small slap on your thigh with his other hand, as you curse.

Aemond groans as he feels one of your legs, which were above his shoulder, pressing down on his back as your feet seem to push him closer and closer, trying anyhow to keep him eating you out until you cum. That's his wish as well, as he hears your pretty moans and feels your legs quivering a bit.

“I could eat you…” he is obscene as he slurps, on purpose, trying to be as lewd and loud. “For hours… for years”

“Don’t tease” the way the weight on your feet on his back gets more evident, he knows you are desperate.

“Not teasing” he says, moving your skirts, better said, crushing them down so he can look at your face, his lips, chin and even his nose are shiny from your arousal, and the image is obscene. “I’m dead serious. Once I come back-, as a winner, you’ll sit on my face for hours.”

He is a man possessed, as he just keeps going and going, occasionally spitting over your cunt and moving his nose over it, as if he was nuzzling like a cat. His hands are firm, he was not making any effort to allow you to move away, just to remain there and allow him to have his own delight before going to battle.

He nips at your clit, making the filthiest sounds fall from your mouth, almost making him go insane. His jaw goes slack, lapping at your cunt as he can feel the flesh clenching greedily at something that isn’t there. He just knows you crave to be fucked.

His fingers, with some of your own dripping arousal, move to caress your clit as his tongue is busy with your hole. You feel the circular movements around your little clit, and you moan loudly.

“Fuck, Aem-!” You cry out loud “I’mgonnacum” your words come slurred, as your legs try to squeeze his head, yet he isn’t one to coward.

He allows you to cum on his face, soaking his mouth and skin, as he relishes the taste of your cum. He is greedy, and he intends to swallow every bit that he can.

The aftermath is a bit dizzy as he accommodates your dress, and he watches your face as you reincorporate on your seat, trying for your lungs to remember how to breathe properly, as you pant from exhaustion.

“Come back” you say softly, looking at him. “Please.”

Aemond hums, standing up, moving to accommodate his clothes and eye patch, along with his hair. He was not one of much affection; they were always strange to him yet he did his best to please you with little kisses and such.

“I promise you.” He says simply, grabbing his sword with a determined expression. “I will come back alive, and all of them coward traitors to my kin will die. The throne and the victory shall be ours, and for good.”

thank you for reading!! reblogs, likes and comments are not necessary but well appreciated ♡

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 8 months ago

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hiiii!! absolutely love your crosshair stuff (i’ve been on a crosshair binge since season three started lol) anyways i was hoping you could write something that’s like post-omega and crosshair escaping tantiss and reuniting with hunter and wrecker (end ep 4) with the prompts

11. I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep.

and

16. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.

like i was thinking crosshair and the reader are married but canon happened so the reader stayed with the bad batch and this would be the first time her and crosshair are seeing each other again since the end of season one at kamino

no rush for any of this btw. thankssss

Hello, hi! Thank you so much for this request. I had something similar going through my mind after the episode aired so was excited to see this drop in!! I hope you enjoy 😊

Never Stopped

When Omega's cryptic message leads to a heartfelt reunion on Ryloth's nearest moon, you didn't expect her to be accompanied by the one man you never thought you'd get to see again.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: spoilers for S3E04, we love a good reunion, inner turmoil, fluff, comfort, pet names.

“I had help.” Omega’s statement hangs in the air until the light sound of footsteps on metal reaches your ears, and you turn alongside Wrecker to watch as someone steps out of the stolen transport.

No. Not someone.

Him.

For a second, you forget how to breathe, unable to tear your eyes away from the man you never dared hope you’d see again. The last time you’d seen him had been after the fall of Kamino, on that blasted platform in the middle of the ocean. You’d pleaded with him to come with you - to leave the Empire’s clutches - but he’d declined. Your stubborn, infuriating husband.

Maker, you’d missed him.

Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re running, crossing the inky darkness between the two ships, closing the distance between you as Crosshair takes the final step down onto the planet��s surface. He doesn’t have time to protest before your arms are around his neck, hauling him into a crushing embrace. His brothers might be wary, but you aren’t.

Crosshair freezes, caught off guard by your affection. In the short time it had taken you to reach him, he’d braced himself for a slap or to be chewed out. This was…unexpected. You’re warm against him, the softness of your body so familiar, as is the scent of your shampoo. Tentatively, he slides his arms around you in return, pulling you close to suffocate all space between you both, soaking up the feeling of having you back in his arms. “Kitten...”

The whispered term of endearment is all it takes, and a heaving sob leaves you before you can stop it.

Everything since the order was given crashes down on you – the shots he’d fired as you scrambled to escape Kamino, how relentlessly he’d chased you across the galaxy, Kamino falling, the distress message he’d sent to your old comms channel…it had felt never-ending.

But it was over now.

As you bury your face against his chest, the torrent of emotions overwhelms you. There’s a sense of catharsis, a release from the pent-up anguish that had threatened to suffocate you. The weight of his presence feels like a balm to your wounded soul, and with each sob that racks your body, it’s as if a burden is lifted, allowing you to finally exhale the turmoil that had gripped you for far too long.

He’s here. In one piece. Free from the Empire’s clutches, with Omega in tow.

Hunter and Wrecker’s tension eases slightly as they witness the reunion between you and Crosshair, but they’re not ready to let their guard down just yet. They exchange knowing glances before Hunter clears his throat. “We need to go.” He shouts across the distance, feeling guilty for breaking the moment but knowing that the Empire won’t be far behind.

You pull back slightly, hands still clutching desperately at Crosshair as he meets your gaze. He’s never been one to cry, but unshed tears line those sharp eyes you’ve missed so much. Silently, you swipe away your tears with one hand, the other finding his to guide him towards the Marauder. A blur of motion whips past you, and you startle, but with a click of his tongue, Crosshair stills the creature responsible, and a hound falls into step beside him as you lead him back towards the ship.

It feels too good to be true, too easy. The nervousness Crosshair had felt rolling through him as he’d forced himself down the steps of the transport returns. Fingers interlaced with yours, he can feel the skin-warmed metal of your ring. It’s still there after everything.

He feels nauseous as you cross the darkness towards the ship that had once been his home. He glances at Wrecker as you both pass him and the apprehension on his big brother’s face wavers for just a second before Crosshair looks away, unable to stand it.

Hunter has already ushered Omega inside, the young girl saying hello to Gonky, who beeps happily at her return. Crosshair lets you situate him in one of the back seats in the cockpit as Wrecker comes up the ramp, smacking the button to shut it as Hunter takes Tech’s seat and fires up the engines.

Tech.

Crosshair swallows, bile rising in his throat. His twin is gone. Omega had brokenly told him what had happened during one of her many visits to his cell. Guilt curls through him - his brother had insisted on the mission to Eriadu and had been keen to find him, which ultimately led to his sacrifice.

Crosshair barely registers the ship setting off or the jump to hyperspace.

A soft squeeze of his hand draws his focus, and his head tilts to look across at you. Your wide eyes, which he adores, look at him with concern and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hunter and Wrecker are in the pilot and copilot seats, Omega curled in Hunter’s lap as they catch up while Wrecker pets Batcher.

You can practically see Crosshair’s discomfort, so you lead him out into the belly of the ship, closing the cockpit doors behind you to give the pair of you some privacy. “I thought I’d lost you.” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you sit side by side on one of the bunks, bodies tilted towards each other.

“Have to try harder than that.” Crosshair’s answer is quick, and the vice-like grip of dread that had encircled his heart slackens as he hears you laugh - it’s a short and sharp sound, nothing like the melodic giggles he’d grown accustomed to during the war, but it’s something. And Maker, does it feel good.

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of his quips, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. But you spot something missing as you turn his hand over in yours.

His wedding ring is gone.

“They took it from me.” He’s quick to reassure you, seeing the pained expression on your pretty face. He hadn’t even been able to fight to keep it, having woken up on Tantiss without it. The troopers had quickly silenced him whenever he’d asked about its whereabouts.

Silence settles between you both for a moment, your gaze fixed on this hand - on the vacant spot. “We’ll get you a new one,” you state quietly, lifting your eyes to finally meet his.

Crosshair’s brows furrow in disbelief at your words. After everything he’s done and the pain and betrayal, he can’t fathom why you still want to be married to him. Guilt and shame churn in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him. “Why?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, his gaze searching yours for some semblance of an answer.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek, your touch sending shivers down his spine. “I promised to love you forever, and that’s a promise I intend to keep,” you say simply, your eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that Crosshair can’t comprehend. “Despite everything, I still believe in us - in you. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.”

A lump forms in Crosshair’s throat as he struggles to process your words. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he was better off paying for his sins in that cell. But here you are, offering forgiveness and understanding. He searches your eyes for any sign of deceit or resentment but finds unwavering sincerity and love.

Crosshair reaches out, hand shaking as his fingers brush your cheek. “Maybe you’ve hit your head too many times, kitten.” Crosshair quips, a hint of his trademark sarcasm slipping through. Despite the gravity of the moment, he can’t resist teasing you. But deep down, he’s grateful for your forgiveness and unwavering love, even if he doesn’t understand it.

You roll your eyes at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe you just need a few more hits to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” You retort, your tone teasing yet filled with affection.

As the playful banter lingers in the air, a moment of quiet settles between you both, the reality of the situation sinking in. Crosshair’s gaze softens, his hand lingering on your cheek as he soaks in your closeness. “I love you too.” He whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the ship’s engines. “I never stopped either.”

Your heart swells with relief and happiness, and with a soft smile, you press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the slight tremble beneath your lips. “What happened, my heart?” You ask, your voice soft and concerned, brows drawn down as you watch how he shakes.

Crosshair hesitates for a moment. “They did…things. Some I remember. Some I don’t.” He answers vaguely.

You’re familiar with this game. He doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to talk about it. And while you know he'll need to one day, today’s not that day. Respecting his unspoken plea not to delve deeper into the horrors he endured, you gently squeeze his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” You murmur softly. “But we need to get you out of those awful clothes.” You change the subject, wrinkling your nose. “Handsome you may be, but this is not working.” You make a vague gesture at his outfit.

Crosshair chuckles softly at your remark, the memories chased away for the time being by your attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll have you know; I make anything look good,” he retorts with a smirk. “But I suppose some fresh clothes wouldn’t hurt.”

You nod in agreement, grateful for the ease with which the two of you fall back into rhythm. “Exactly, and I’m sure I can find something more comfortable for you.” You reply, standing up and glancing around the small quarters of the ship.

As you start to pull crates out from the nearby storage racks, Crosshair watches you with a slight smile, admiring the familiar sight of you in motion. “You always know just how to take care of me,” he remarks, his voice low and warm, a tone saved just for you.

You shoot him a playful smile over your shoulder. “Someone has to.” You quip back, pulling out the crate you’d been looking for.

His kit crate. You still had his kit crate, with all your doodles on the outside – his name in Aurebesh, the squad’s symbol, a copy of his tattoo, and ever so slightly wonky hearts that he’d made a show of grumbling about but secretly loved.

Crosshair’s surprise is evident as he watches you retrieve a clean undersuit from the crate. He’d assumed its contents would be long gone - tossed aside, sold, or scrapped. The fact that you kept all his armour, along with his bucket, fills him with a strange mix of emotions. “Didn’t think you’d keep it,” Crosshair finally manages to say.

Before you can respond, footsteps interrupt the moment, drawing your attention towards the source. Hunter steps out from the cockpit – even with the door shut, he can still hear everything. His eyes meet Crosshair’s, and while he knows there’s a lot for them to talk about and work through, and he’s still not entirely sure he fully trusts his baby brother, he wants to offer him some reassurance. It’s the least he can do. “We were never going to get rid of it,” Hunter says, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re still one of us.”

Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words. Emotions swirl within him, a tumultuous mix of gratitude and guilt. As Hunter’s words sink in, his gaze flickers back to you. Despite the doubts and fears that linger in his mind, one thing is certain: he’s home.

With a small smile, you offer the clean undersuit to your husband. “Here,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection. “Let’s get you changed.”

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bandgie · 23 days ago

Text

Dolly From the Garden | Ep.4

MASTERLIST | Kink: Overstimulation

🗝 Reality is often cruel, much like the thorns you pick from the abandoned garden. The man who lives on the other side of the hill decides to pay you another visit, but this time, he brings gifts.

6.3k words

warnings! MDNI 18+, fem!reader, reader is a bit of a dom/mean with han, finger sucking (m!), cowgirl, mating press, PIV, no protection, sex outside, cumming on tits, pussy eating/play, multiple orgasms (f!), face riding (m!rec), hair pulling (m!rec)

notes! chat, I did not mean to make it this long 😔 we're getting near the end so there will be a bunch of info dumping sorryyy. is the smut as good as I wanted it to be? you tell me.

It’s been a while since you’ve had a nightmare. Not the kind where you wake up scared or in a cold sweat, but when the dread of your dream sits in your stomach.

Something isn’t right.

Trying to shake off the feeling is harder than you thought. Even when kissing Chan and Changbin goodbye, you watch almost mournfully at the front door. The car engine runs and they soon drive off to the studio.

You wish they didn’t leave. Maybe if you kissed them harder and held onto them a little together, they wouldn’t have left you alone in the apartment. Each groan and crack of the old building sounds like laughter, mocking you in a way that feels silly and shameful.

You need to get out.

You planned to clean the garden. The sky might not be the bluest, but you almost find relief in the dull colors. The sun is covered by clouds, which would be gloomy in any other instance, but cools down the sweat dripping down your back.

Pull by pull. Weed by weed, you tug the plant from its roots.You’re not wearing any gardening gloves, but the dull pain of thorns helps your mind from wandering to your nightmare. The black cat. The blue eyes. His warnings.

If you come back here again, we won’t let you leave.

But they can’t keep you hostage in a dream. All you have to do is open your eyes and be back at home with Chris and Changbin, safe and sound. You’re the one dreaming about these guys. You're making them up in your head because you can’t keep it in your pants. The thought of them being real, of everything being real, that’s just not possible.

Is it?

“You’re gonna need way more than one person to clean up this garden.”

You scream before the words register. You hadn’t even heard Jisung’s footsteps. Not if they crunched the dead leaves or squashed rotten fruit. His wide eyes are all you see when you whip your head, arms out like you're ready to shield yourself from the threat.

“Jesus fucking christ! You scared the shit outta me!”

He puts his arms up in surrender. “Fuck! Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Jisung brings his hand to his ear, rubbing it in soothing circles from your screech. You only feel a sliver of guilt, but when you remember this is the second time he’s scared you in a matter of a week, it fizzles away.

“Are you following me again?”

His cheeks flush. “No! Stop saying that! This garden doesn’t belong to you!”

“I live here! So it does, actually.”

“You’re wrong. I own the Pink Palace, so technically, it’s mine.”

You would like to keep going back and forth just to see his cheeks pout, but you raise an eyebrow instead. “I thought you said your grandma did.”

Jisung blinks, “Same thing.”

Weirdo. “I don’t see your little cat anywhere.” You look around the garden. “Did he finally grow a brain and run away?”

Teasing Jisung is too much fun. You grin when he lets out a huff and crosses his arms. “He didn’t run away and he’s not my cat. He’s on time-out.”

“Time-out?” You laugh a little. “What’d he do?”

Jisung’s fingers squeeze his biceps anxiously. His eyes dart around before they land on the ground. “Just be a bad kitty.”

They like things that listen. They want a pet. And I’m hardly one to behave.

And you have to ignore the mischievous glint in Jisung’s eyes when he says ‘kitty.’

You clear your throat. Memories of your…dream rush back. As creeped out as you were when you woke up, your underwear was still drenched. “A-anywho, help me clean this garden up. An owner is supposed to take care of their things, right?”

He shrugs. “I try.”

Jisung rolls his sleeve and grabs a garden shovel, kneeling on the dirty ground just like you.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. The point of his tool hits the hard dirt, barely making a dent. He stabs the ground with murderous intent but only specks of dirt fly.

He notices you watching him. “What?”

“You’ll need a way bigger shovel, but I can have my roommates do that part. Just get the hose.”

You hear him mumble something about the fact that he can do it himself, but he listens anyway. Jisung reaches for the hose and hands it to you. “Now what.”

“Turn it on, doofus.”

“Oh.”

You giggle when he stands, walking towards the edge of the garden to twist the faucet. It doesn’t take long to hear the water running, but nothing sprouts from your end. You hold the pipe to your face and close one eye.

“Is it on?” Jisung’s voice carries in the air.

“No.” You shake your head. “There might be a kink-”

“Oh shit. I’m standing on it.”

Water shoots on your face almost immediately. You open your mouth to yelp, but you end up choking. You can feel the coldness run down your neck, soaking your shirt and the top of your shorts.

At least you aren’t sweating anymore.

“Oh my god.” Jisung’s approaching steps are cautious. “I’m so sorry. I- I didn’t know you were holding it.”

The hose now lies on the ground, turning the dirt into mud. You stand and wipe your eyes, flicking the droplets off your fingers. The shirt clinging to your torso feels uncomfortable but you don’t notice how Jisung’s eyes fall to your chest. The first thing you see is his blushing face and gawking stare.

Your bra is evident underneath. Although wearing a white top isn’t ideal while gardening, it was an old shirt you didn’t care to dirty.

You didn’t plan on it turning transparent.

“What? Never seen a girl in a bra before?” You try to sound snarky, but it comes off flirtatious.

Jisung gulps and struggles to make eye contact. “I just- I didn’t expect that- I didn’t mean-” His brain goes haywire when you step closer, smiling like you caught his hand in the cookie jar.

“You’re a real perv, you know?” You prowl towards him. “Stalking me, watching me, accidentally getting my shirt wet...”

“It-it-it was an accident!”

“Now look,” you ignore his panicking. “You can see everything.”

You have to keep yourself from laughing when his eyes bug from you pressing your breasts together. Water drips off your shirt from the squeeze, but the sight is arousing. You grip yourself in slow circles and let the material hug your body as it pleases.

“You could have just asked, you know?”

With your hands trailing to the bottom of your shirt, you peel the dripping shirt off. It lands on the dirt with a wet plop leaving you in your bra.

A bold move you would never do so openly, but there’s no one for miles. There’s only you, Jisung, and his half-boner poking through his shorts.

He covers his eyes and walks backward. “Wait! I didn’t- this wasn’t my intention.” You can see the flush in his neck as you stalk towards him. “I-I’m not a perv and I said I was sorry!”

“Oh.” You pout. “So you don’t like them?”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t say that- Ah!” He trips, falling on his ass with a thud that makes you wince. You kick the loose brick away and get on your knees, straddling Jisung’s lap and pushing him down until he’s flat on the dirt.

His entire face is red. He’s still hiding his eyes behind his hand, but you can see his quivering lip and pink ears.

“Aww, are you okay?” You mock sympathy, rubbing your hands up and down his torso. “You should really look where you’re going.”

You laugh when he whines, pathetic and anxious. Jisung has enough bravery to lower his arm just slightly, revealing his teary eyes.

“I feel like you’re making fun of me.”

You grin. “Maybe a little. But your dick’s poking me pretty hard, so I think it’s safe to say you like it.”

It’s been a while since someone’s looked at you so submissively. You’ve been on the bottom for so long now that you can’t help the way your cunt buzzes from Jisung’s doe eyes.

A grind from your hips makes him gasp.

“Right here?” He has to whisper it. “Don’t you live with roommates?”

Geez. Maybe he is a bit of a stalker. “They’re at work, but I can call them to come back if you want.”

“No!” Jisung shouts this time. “D-don’t be mean.”

But it’s hard not to. He’s too easy to tease. Jisung can only whimper when you slowly rut against his cock, gripping onto his pecs for leverage. He opts to cover his mouth instead of his eyes, muffling the mewls that sound like music to your ears.

Jisung only moves his arm away from his face when you reach for his elastic band. You think he might stop you, but his fingers dig into your waist instead. Jisung helps you hover just enough to pull his shorts down, his bulge prominent in boxers.

“For me?” You laugh when he blushes again. All that scaring you and whining about how mean you are was simply him trying to hit on you.

The pitiful attempts are almost cute.

Jisung doesn’t say anything as you reach into the slit of his boxers and pull his erection out, hot and heavy. He hisses from the cold air, but your warm hand is quick to soothe it.

There’s a dab of precum on his flushed tip that you roll over with your thumb. His hips buck from the sensitivity, but he keeps his hands on your hips obediently.

“Such a good boy, huh?” You tug upwards on his cock, watching his back arch and thud on the ground when you stroke down. “Good boys are my favorite. You know that?”

He shakes his head, a bit of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. Your free hand reaches for his pink face and scoops the saliva back into his mouth, popping your thumb between his lips.

Your shorts are loose enough to pull them to the side, abandoning his cock for a moment. You pull your underwear along with it and plant your bare, wet pussy on him.

Jisung sucks your thumb with a groan.

“Yeah.” You find momentum easily. “Keep sucking it, baby.”

You briefly think about how much fun Chan would have with him.

Jisung’s tongue rolls over your digit encouragingly. It must taste like sweat and dirt, but he moans at the flavor nonetheless. The tip of his tongue flicks your thumb quickly, mimicking how he would if it was your clit.

You can feel how your pussy throbs at the thought. His cock is more than hard enough beneath you, but his mouth is so warm. If you close your eyes, you can perfectly picture his tongue and cock rubbing on your cunt, licking at your nub, and prodding your entrance.

Moving into a squat with your feet planted on the dirt, you angle his cock upwards. His eyes lock with yours and he squeals with your thumb in his mouth.

“Don’t cum too quick.”

Jisung’s lips release your digit when you sink down. Every vein, curve, and dip of his cock drags between your walls. You break eye contact and watch how your cunt opens for him, folds spreading and lewdly squelching.

His cock is the perfect medium from Chan and Changbin. Not quite as thick, not quite as long, but still good. It makes you clench around his length when you settle fully on him, thighs burning.

“Oh! Oh oh oooh.” His eyes roll back and he can’t help but press his hips up, flush against you. It makes your legs quiver, but Jisung has the mind to move his hands under your thighs for support.

“Tight. Y-you’re so warm. Mmm.” He lifts his head to see where you connect. “D-don’t move.”

You scoff. He’s twitching inside you, pulsing rhythmically. His hazy eyes and drooly lips make it seem as though you’ve been bouncing on his cock for hours when in reality, he just slipped in.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Slowly, you raise a few inches. He thrashes his head side to side when you slide back down.

“Wait! Please! I wanna be good. Let me be good! I can’t- I’ll cum.” His voice breaks off in a whine when you keep bouncing.

The slide of his cock is too addicting. The last dick you had inside of you, awake, was almost a week ago. As much pleasure you feel with your cunt gripping and leaking, there’s a sense of relief having sex outside of your dream world.

Both of your hands land on his shoulders. Your legs scream for a rest, but putting some weight on your arms helps. It’s easier to rock rather than bounce this way. Your hips roll deeply until Jisung begins to move with you.

“Thought you said you didn’t wanna finish.” You pant. The sun beams on your back uncomfortably, sweat gathering on your bra. You use a hand to swiftly pull your tits from the cups, right in Jisung’s view.

Eyes lock with your breasts immediately. A guttural sound leaves his chest and the grip on your thighs tense, making your body bounce again. Jisung’s skin slaps on yours harshly until your tits jiggle uncontrollably.

You moan so loudly it almost sounds like a scream. Jisung’s thrusts force you to match his pace, to feel his tip hit the deepest part of you repeatedly. Even if your legs burn, it’s nothing compared to the fire building in your stomach.

He doesn’t have to use both hands to support you anymore, choosing to use an elbow to prop himself up until his mouth can swallow one of your tits.

Thrusting into you is a lot harder in this position, but you’re grateful for the slowness. You can feel how his cheeks hollow and suck. Even when his teeth lightly bite on your nipple, tugging until he can feel it harden in his mouth.

And when he flicks his tongue on it harshly, you clench around him.

“Fuck. ‘m trying. I’m trying so hard not to.” Jisung sits up more, popping your breast from his lips and wrapping his arms around your torso. You don’t have an option other than to wrap your legs around his thin waist and let him guide you down, reversing the position until he’s on top of you.

He licks your boobs again. “But your pussy’s too good.”

You nearly laugh, but a sharp thrust has you keening instead. Your ankles cross around his torso and you arch your back, having his cock hit a gummy spot that makes you see stars.

Jisung’s doesn’t have to rub your clit to bring you close. He fucks you so deep that his pelvis rubs your peak perfectly. It makes that desire in your belly grow, clenching and leaking until you think you‘re going to finish first.

“Yesyesyes. Fuck me, Hannie. Feels so good.” You tug on his hair as he sucks on your nipples.

A desperate whine leaves him, looking up at you with boba eyes. Jisung licks over your boob one more time before he lets go, eyes shining. “Yeah? Am I good?”

“So so so good.” You pull him up until he’s inches from your face. “Gonna make me cum.”

Maybe it’s the close proximity or the heat of the moment, but Jisung kisses you. His lips crush yours uncoordinatedly, but you welcome it happily. You can taste your sweat on his tongue. He runs the muscle over your own and swirls his tongue.

The two of you pant and moan into each other’s mouth until he pulls away, strings of saliva connecting your lips. You chase him for a second, looking up at him in a daze and biting your lower lip.

“Can I- can I cum on your tits?” Jisung’s out of breath. He’s steadily pounding into you like he’s a pro, but you can tell his need to cum is getting to him.

Yours too, if you��re being truthful. The back of your shorts is soaked with arousal and your underwear is far worse. Even with all the sweat and drool seeping down, you can feel that your cunt is the wettest.

And the picture of him finishing on your breasts has you oozing more.

“Only if you make me cum first.” You smile only a little evil. “You’re almost there, Hannie.”

His moan is a mix of need and understanding. You think he’ll go back to your chest or lips, but he straightens his back and lifts your legs. You uncross your ankles and let him take off your shorts and underwear to push your thighs back until your knees are close to your face, spread and open for his cock to bully into.

Oh, he’s going to fuck you.

You didn’t think he could have it in him, but you’re proven wrong by the first thrust. It goes deeper than you thought was possible, straight to the back of your throat. His eyes are narrowed in concentration, eyebrows pinched, and upper lip pulled back until you see his gums.

Every slam of his hips, every drag out and in, it feels too hot. Like the inside of your pussy is melting from his pistons. With his hands gripping your thighs and your hands helplessly clawing his back, you can’t do anything but take it.

Cream slides down your ass, pooling on the dirt you know will be a pain to clean off your skin. The sounds you’re making can hardly be considered moaning, closer to a panting dog, but neither of you cares. Jisung gets his dick to fuck your sweet spot until you’re pushing at his shoulders instinctively to stop, and you’re glad he doesn’t.

“Oh my god! Fuckfuckfuck! You’re so fucking deep. Hannie! Hannie I’m-” Your toes curl, your hair sprawls in the dirt and Jisung thinks it's beautiful in the most poetic way.

His pretty flower in his garden.

He lets you squeeze on his cock, convulsing and twitching until the only sound you can make is babbling.

It’s not for long that he lets you ride out your high. You’re still creaming and clenching when he slips out. A surprised squeal tumbles from your lips when he releases your legs and straddles your torso, cock in hand.

He’s so wet, still dripping with your orgasm and white arousal on his cock when he strokes himself. You have to reach between your legs and play with your clit to come down properly, but it doesn’t bother you too much.

You open your mouth and watch Jisung fuck into his hand. He squeezes his tip, getting that pre cum to ooze on your tits until his climax builds again quickly. It hardly takes more than a few tugs before he spills on you, groaning and panting with his head thrown back.

He moans again when he picks his head up. “Oh wow. Fuck. You look so pretty.” Jisung smears his cum with his tip. “Perfect.”

You blush, pulling your fingers from your cunt. Jisung carefully gets up from you and helps you sit up.

Your hair’s a mess, your tits are sticky, and your bra is nearly off. Jisung doesn’t have to do much but tuck his soiled cock back into his boxers. You’re a little jealous.

“Maybe the water hose will come in handy,” he jokes. Jisung reaches for the running hose and helps you stand. You have to pretend that it’s not cum he’s spraying off your naked body in broad daylight, but it doesn’t help that your nipples harden under the cold water and his cheeks flush from the sight.

“This is by far the weirdest aftercare I’ve gotten.”

He smiles a little, awkwardly meeting your eyes. “Yeah. H-here.” He tosses the hose back down when he’s done, shrugging his shirt off and handing it to you.

You could feel his muscles underneath the shirt, but you didn’t think he’d look so fit. His hips are a drastic difference from his shoulders, almost hourglass-like. You blink a few times before you put his shirt on, the end going barely past your ass.

“Thanks.” You try not to stare at his soft stomach. “Hopefully your grandma doesn’t ask where your shirt went when you get back.”

Jisung laughs genuinely this time, gums showing and eyes pinching.

Maybe it’s the sun, but he looks cute.

Or maybe it’s because he’s shirtless.

“Oh! That reminds me.” Jisung rummages in his pockets, pulling out what looks like a toy.

You step closer to him and look. It’s not just a toy, but a doll. A small, stuffed doll with jet-black hair, sharp cheekbones, and gray buttons for eyes.

Your heart drops to your stomach.

“My grandma found it and said to toss it, but when I saw it, I thought of you.” He smiles sheepishly. “A house-warming gift, maybe.”

He’s beaming so sweetly, but you can’t stop the fear coursing through you. It doesn’t matter whether you’re awake or asleep, those damn buttons can’t leave you alone.

…we won’t let you leave…

“Hey,” Jisung sounds concerned. “Are you okay?”

You can’t find your voice. You're choking on whether to lie or tell him that his grandma’s apartments are haunted. His eyes look so sincere, so worried. But the fact that he gave you a doll like this can’t be a coincidence.

“I’m…yeah.” You clear your throat. “Yeah, sorry. I just remembered that I have to unpack more boxes right after this. I’m gonna be so tired.”

You try to smile with Jisung, but everything feels wrong all over again. He apologizes profusely about getting you wet and ruining your plans to get the garden done. The two of you share goodbyes, the doll in hand as you walk back to your apartment.

You need your best friends. Chan and Changbin would know what to do and what to say to make you feel better. But when you look at your phone, you see a text saying they’ll be staying at the studio well late into the night.

Don’t be needy, you think.

You thumbs up the message, blinking back tears and hurrying to your room.

Unpacking the remaining boxes might help distract you, but everything feels so overwhelming. It’s been so long since you felt this anxious, this lost. You and your friends moved here for less stress, but all you’ve felt is a pit in your stomach that never seems to fully go away.

You throw your dirty clothes in the hamper and toss the doll on a chair, flopping on your bed and ignoring the lump in your throat.

It’s just a bad day. You’ll feel better after a nap.

The space between your legs is hot. Everything up to your chest feels on fire with every swipe of a tongue. You groan softly, blinking until your vision focuses on the ceiling. The shadows on the walls tell you it must be nighttime.

Maybe one of your roomies found you passed out, underwear missing. You can’t decide if it was Chan or Changbin who put their mouth on your cunt, but it doesn’t feel like either.

It’s too messy. Chan is coordinated and intentful whereas Changbin is hungry and desperate. This tongue is…eager. Eager to get your taste and suck on your clit. It almost reminds you of the first time someone would ever eat you out.

Finally, you lift your head. The dark does little to help, but you can make out the black hair. It isn’t curly when you thread your fingers through it, and the eyes that look up to you aren’t eyes at all.

But buttons.

You yank him off your cunt brutally. He comes up with a groan of pain, dark gray buttons looking offended. “The fuck?”

“Who are you?!” You cross your legs, tucking them into your ass and grabbing a pillow for defense. “How did you get into my house?!”

His hair sprawls in different directions from your tugging, but the mess looks strangely good on him. His jaw ticks with irritation like you’ve interrupted him from something very important. His chest is bare, everything is nude. The deep lines on his stomach are similar to Chan’s, strong and urging you to reach out and trace them. This makes the shadows on his face deepen. The buttons, the cheekbones, the hair…

You look to your chair, noting that the doll is nowhere to be seen.

“This isn’t your house.” He rubs his scalp, sitting on his knees and crowding you until you back into the headboard.

“Not yet anyway.”

“How did you get in?” You ignore his comment.

The doll narrows his eyes. “Do you normally ask this many questions? Everyone’s been telling me you let your pussy do all the talking.”

He laughs when you turn red. A large hand rests on your knee, slightly urging you to spread your legs again. But you can ignore his slender fingers a little longer.

“So then…I assume you’re from the Other Side?”

The smile is enough of an answer.

“But that doesn’t make sense. I didn’t go through the door.” You shake your head in disbelief. Is it possible you slept-walked into the tunnel? No, that can’t be. Your room is still the same and the clouds that you can see from your window aren’t as bright as the ones from the Other Side.

“Go through the door,” he snorts. “Haven’t you been telling everyone that this is a dream?” His hand goes up your thigh, under the material of Jisung’s shirt, and smoothes over your hip.

You shiver from his touch.

“Is it really?”

“Does it matter? Lay back down and let me take care of you.” He grabs your waist and yanks you down, surprising a yelp from you. He’s strong, but he never overpowers. It doesn’t take much effort to spread your legs. For his digits to find your clit and rub.

“I…I need to know what’s going on.” You grab onto his wrist, stopping his movements.

He doesn’t look annoyed like you thought he would. His buttons are curious, a dark wonder that sends shivers down your spine. The deft fingers on your cunt swirl on your clit again, and you have to dig your nails into his wrist to get him to listen properly.

“Why don’t we play… a game?” His teeth are sharp when he grins.

You breathe heavily, loosening your grip on his hand just a bit before questioning, “What kind of game would it be?”

“The quiet game. You stop asking questions and finish on my tongue, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Too easy. “That’s it?”

“That’s one question. Three strikes, you’re out.”

You huff, glaring at his cocky smile. It's only a win-win situation for you. You win, you cum and get answers. You lose, you still cum and move out.

“Fine. But you have to tell me who you are first.”

He raises an eyebrow.

He laughs, resuming his fingers to their rubbing. He moves until he’s flat on his stomach, inches from your cunt. You spread your legs enough to have him fit, but your thighs still rub on his cheeks when he wriggles closer.

“Someone’s trying to find a loophole.” Still, he smiles endearingly. “But it’s Jeongin. My friends call me I.N though.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not your friend.”

Jeongin giggles. “Maybe not. But I think you’ll like my tongue.”

His teeth gleam in the moonlight when his pink tongue breaks through. You watch as it plants on your cunt, flicking upwards. The tip of his tongue swirls on your clit before he sucks it into his mouth.

The pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. A small gasp echoes in the room and you widen your legs, allowing Jeongin to scoot up more and open his jaw until his tongue can lick from your clit to your entrance.

His mouth is warm on your cunt. It doesn’t take long for your hips to match his pace, catching every suck and lick.

Your back arches off the bed and into his hot mouth. Jeongin has to tilt his chin up to follow you, saliva and arousal dripping down to his neck. Every gulp is followed by a moan that makes you shake. Your legs only tremble more when his tongue glides up and down your folds.

It’s so soft. It’s perfect on your cunt when he smears your arousal on your skin. You run your fingers in his hair and guide him, getting Jeongin to follow a pace that makes you clench around nothing.

“Oh, fuck! Right there.” You plant your feet on the bed and shove his face flush against you. “Harder.”

You wouldn’t sound so demanding if you were allowed to ask questions, but neither of you mind. Jeongin obeys and wraps his lips around your clit. The suction makes you instinctively shy away from his mouth, but his fingers hook on the underside of your thighs and force you to stay still.

You squeal, wrapping your legs around his head and squeezing his face. Jeongin’s buttons look to you, but they’re not panicked. They almost seem to glow with delight, wiggling his head deeper into your cunt until you can feel his hard teeth beneath his lips.

He’s trapped between your legs. He doesn’t seem to mind how your hips buck on his face, nose touching your clit until it shines with your wetness.

Jeongin doesn’t have to suck anymore. He knows all you need is a tongue to ride on, opting to stick his out and follow your erratic movements. You clit twitches in his mouth. The grip on his hair is so strong that he thinks you might rip some strands out.

But you don’t, of course. You’re too busy face-fucking him to realize that his groaning is mixed with pain and pleasure. All you want to do is chase that high building in your stomach, rubbing up and down until pleasure bursts.

You freeze with a moan, letting your body spasm from your orgasm. But Jeongin doesn’t let you rest for long, latching his lips back on you and swirling his tongue on your throbbing nub.

He picks up your thighs and pushes your knees by your face, exactly how Jisung did hours ago.

He must have been watching.

So he knows that this position makes you vulnerable and forces you to feel pleasure beyond what you can handle. Cream slides down your cunt and to your ass, but Jeongin keeps twisting his tongue on you until more arousal drips down.

“Jeongin! Wait! I’m- I just came!”

But he doesn’t care about your sensitivity. Doesn’t care how your moans turn into cries from his relentless licking. The crude sounds of his sucking and your hiccups fill the room. You can see with bleary eyes his wet face. There’s white cream on the tip of his nose that he buries into your cunt once again.

You tug on his hair weakly. “Pleeasee. ‘m so sensitiveee.”

A mean suck has you gasping. You convulse in his mouth, trying desperately to twist away. It’s only when you grip your breasts instead of his hair that he lets go.

You don’t even moan in relief. It feels like his tongue is still on you when he lowers your hips slightly, angling his pretty, pink cock in your entrance.

“God. I almost came eating you out.” He licks his lips hungrily. “Been so long since I ate pussy. You won’t mind it I cum in it, will you?”

He laughs at your babbling response. Pinching your nipples through the shirt keeps you somewhat sane. It helps you focus on the feeling of his head sliding on your swollen pussy, finding your entrance, and slipping through your folds.

You can’t even moan, mindlessly opening your mouth and looking down at him splitting you open. Inch by inch, he settles in, not stopping until his pelvis presses against you.

You fall back on the bed and look at him, vision blurring and bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Uh-oh.” Jeongin grins. “Did my cock break you already?” He adjusts on his knees and pulls out a few inches, pushing it back in torturously slow. “Looks like I’ll have to put you back together again.”

He doesn’t start slow at all. The way his cock bullies into you makes you think this is the only thing you’ll feel for the rest of your life. You’ll know nothing but clenching, the endless cream that oozes from your pussy and drips down his balls.

Jeongin grunts with effort, sweat gathering on his forehead and dripping down the sides of his face. His abs tense from the movement, finally convincing you to reach and touch him.

His hard stomach quivers from your fingers. You can feel every vein, every muscle that works in earnest. It proves to you that everything you thought was a fantasy was real, but your brain can only properly comprehend the twitching of his cock between your walls.

“Mmm, you feel that?” Jeongin moans. “Gonna cum all in your pussy. So much in here, baby. I could taste Han’s, you dirty girl. It’s never enough for you, huh?”

He’s close. You can tell by his sloppy thrusts and veiny neck. If his words are meant to make you feel gross and used, it has the opposite effect. You pussy clenches on him happily. It’s not your fault you’ve had so many different cocks in a week.

And judging the moaning from Jeongin, he likes that fact too.

Hot spurts of cum flood your cunt. Jeongin throws his head back and buries deep, making sure every pulse of his cock is inside you.

The walls of your cunt are so numb that you can hardly feel him finishing inside, but you can feel how hot your pussy gets. Jeongin slams his hips to ensure he leaks everything inside before he pulls out.

You shiver from the sensation. The head of cock slips out wetly and you can feel the arousal dripping from your hole almost instantly. Jeongin keeps you spread by the ankle to watch it, smiling proudly to himself.

“Good pussy. Eats so well.”

He lowers back onto his chest, ignoring how your legs still tremble and playing with the cum instead.

You have to force yourself to keep your eyes open, to make your brain work. Your body is still glowing in the aftermath. Remembering why you let him do what he wanted in the first place is a challenge.

Slowly, you raise to your elbows and clear your throat to get his attention. “I think…I think I deserve my question now.”

His buttons blink to you. Jeongin’s finger mindlessly plays with your slit, but he nods. “Go ahead. But remember, only two left.”

His finger is only slightly distracting. You let him play with the cum ask, “How did you get here?”

“You brought me here, remember?”

“No-” you groan. “Like here. On this side or whatever. I thought you guys were only in the Other world.”

He grins, “Do you believe in magic?”

“I’m not messing around.” You glare at him.

“Me neither. We’re mostly on the Other Side, bound to it. But The Beldom likes to grant us wishes sometimes. Only if we’ve been good.”

The Beldom. You’ve heard of that word. An old folklore about a witch or fae that steals people. But why? There’s too many different answers on the internet that don’t give a clear reason.

…they want a pet…

You don’t want to waste your last question on something he might not know. You pull apart his answer, trying to grab onto a clue that can help.

“Bound to it, huh? Are you guys…stuck. On the Other Side?”

Jeongin stops his touches, buttons turning hard and almost sour. He scrunches his nose and lays on your thigh, focusing back on your cunt.

“Now that’s a good question. Let’s just say we made a deal with the devil. We wanted an easy life. It gets hard out here, you know? Like you’re suffocating. Living on the Other Side, sewing buttons in our eyes, it seems like a small price to pay.”

You have to hold back your shock. The pain they must have gone through. To choose needles in their eyes rather than deal with harsh reality.

Hesitantly, you console him by massaging his scalp.

“Stuck is…a tough word. The other guys can’t really leave, but they can see. Seungmin and I are the only ones that can come and go as we please, but not in our human form. Not entirely at least.”

It only makes a little sense. You have to refrain from prying too much. Instead, you decide to focus on the other mystery. “Seungmin?”

Jeongin tilts his head up. “The cat? I’m sure you’ve seen him around. He’s a bit of an ass.”

You recall the cat with Jisung. The cat that warned you.

“He…he told me not to go through the little door anymore.”

“We know.” His voice drops an octave. “He got a lot of shit for saying that. The Beldom wasn’t too happy with him.”

He’s on time-out.

Was that…a coincidence?

“The Beldom. Is that who you made the deal with?”

No response.

“Who is The Beldom, I.N?”

He sits up abruptly. The sudden movement makes you jump, flinching as he grabs the covers and tosses it over your body.

“You’re out of questions, pretty. And look, you called me I.N. Guess we are friends after all.”

A wave of sleep hits you. You know it’s not your own tiredness. This is probably what they did every time they were done, putting you to sleep to get you to stop thinking.

Your eyes close without you willing them to. It’s like a strange form of paralysis, hearing steps, and being stuck in your body.

Slipping into the dark unconscious feels so close, but you hang onto a single thought for a moment longer.

That you can free them. Or try to.

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