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caffeinewitchcraft · 3 months ago

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Ghost Eater

Summary: You don't like exorcists. They don't much like you either.

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You’d always thought big restaurants like the Brownie Industry only did well in small, midwestern towns like the one you came from. A year working in LA has taught you that, no matter where you go, people will always love garlic bread and sugar.

It’s your day off which means you’re pulling a double shift. You haven’t had time to wash your hair for the past two weeks so it’s frizzing out of your claw clip and flying wild around your face. The lighting is so dim that you’ve tripped over two black purses already, luckily not while you’re running food. The big dining room sounds like an apiary with the tittering laughter of the later adult crowd that’s filtered in from the theater across the four lane road. The main difference between the Brownie Industry here and the one back home is size. The ceiling soars overhead, supported by a series of concrete pillars separating the dining area into three sections.

Normally it would be three servers per section. Today, it’s just you in yours.

One more hour. That’s what the manager promised you. It might even be true if the host stand quits seating you after the table you’re approaching.

There are three people at the table. A woman whose hair might be light blonde or gray in the light of day, her eyes light and piercing. Her face is soft from age, emphasized by the tight, lace collar of her off-season sweater. She reminds you strongly of your mom’s nemesis on the HOA board. The man couldn’t be more out of place next to her despite their equivalent age. He’s wearing a leather jacket – again, it’s not cold here – and a Norwegian metal shirt underneath. His hair is definitely white, so white it almost glows. He’s frowning at the teenager across the table as if she’s touched his motorcycle without permission.

The teenager might be the first you’ve seen all night who doesn’t have their phone out. She’s decked out in what you consider grandma florals – a t-shirt scattered with daisy chains, a bucket hat made out of nana’s carpet bag, and a hand-crocheted scarf in pastel. You can’t really see her face under the shadow of her hat and there’s an odd, blurred quality to the way she fiddles with her napkin. You let your eyes skip past her and back to the two adults. Teenagers don’t pay the bill.

“Welcome to Brownie Industry!” you chirp. You’re sweaty and red but the faded yellow light hides that. You’re a service industry pro so none of your exhaustion shows on your face when you ask, “Is this your first-time dining with us?”

If you weren’t so burned out, you’d have noticed before you introduced yourself.

“Are you Grady?” the woman asks. Her voice is more posh than you expected even with her lace collar. “Grady Pace?”

Fuck. There’s a noticeable temperature differential now that you’re close to them. The restaurant is warm from the number of bodies, maybe even warmer than the summer air outside, but stepping up next to their table feels like walking into an ice rink.

“I’m your waitress,” you say. You don’t have time for this conversation. You’ve got five minutes in your cycle to take their order and then you’ve got food to run. “If you need any other services from me, I have a website.”

“We messaged you,” the man says. His lips thin to the point his thick mustache covers them entirely. “You never responded.”

Because you’ve been making more money at the Brownie Industry than your other job. “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

“Wait,” the teenager says, sitting upright. She looks from you to the adults and back again. When she smiles, there’s no humor in it. “This is why we drove eight hours to have dinner at the Brownie Industry? For her?”

“Katie, be polite—”

“I’m sorry,” Katie says, “It’s just—I found a priest, you know? An actual exorcist priest and you guys want to trust a waitress over him?”

“Ugh exorcists,” you say. The memory of sour cabbage is so heavy on your tongue that you stick your tongue out in disgust. When you see Katie’s look, you backtrack. “Effective! Definitely effective.”

“Your mistakes have cost us too much already,” the man says, shaking a finger at her. “We are not converting just for an exorcism.”

“I normally don’t agree with your father,” the woman tells Katie, “but in this case I would like to leave conversion as a last resort.”

“We wouldn’t actually convert,” Katie says, rolling her eyes.

“Pretty sure exorcists can tell when you lie,” you tell Katie. When her scowl deepens, you clear your throat. “Did you all need another minute to think about the menu?”

“We need you to help us,” the dad says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re at work and I’m sorry we’re bothering you.”

“We’re desperate,” the mom says. She reaches for her purse. “We’ll pay you. Triple the rate on your website or even quadruple. We need that thing gone by tonight.”

Katie covers her face. “Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Terry isn’t that bad.”

“Oh, he’s bad, young lady,” the dad says sternly. “A bad influence.”

“We caught her trying to perform another séance yesterday,” the mom confesses to you. She leans forward with a pinched expression. “So Terry’s friend Larry could visit too.”

“Interesting,” you say. The food bell rings, but you think you can ignore it for another minute. You study Katie’s blush. “Why did you do that?”

If she was being compelled, she won’t have an answer to your question. You’ve dealt with a lot of ghosts in your time, but so few are sentient enough – or powerful enough – for compulsion.

“Go on,” the dad says, gesturing at you. “Tell her.”

“Leroy, she’s embarrassed enough,” the mom says.

“No, she’s not, Sarah.” The dad – Leroy – gestures to you again. “Tell her.”

Katie huffs, clearly resistant. But when her dad huffs back, she caves. “So,” she says, “I have this YouTube channel—”

“I’m off in an hour,” you interrupt. You don’t care that you’re being rude. Your patience ran out as soon as she said YouTube. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” You turn to go.

“A moment!” Sarah shakes out her menu. “How’s the nicoise salad?”

Of course they’re going to order. They’d better tip too if they want you to help them with their ghost problem.

----.

“You said an hour,” mom Sarah says when you leave out the employee entrance. She’s shivering next to her daughter. Leroy is off smoking behind his motorcycle, parked next to the Tesla Katie is leaning on, but he stubs out his cigarette on the asphalt when you walk up. “It’s been two.”

“I had side work,” you say instead of it would have been one if not for you. You rub your bare arms when the familiar ghost chill washes over you. You want nothing more than to go home and wash the scent of garlic and brownie batter out of your hair. “Was there something wrong with my service?”

“No?”

You try to make your voice light. “I see.”

Sarah frowns at your tone anyway. “Why?”

“You tipped five dollars.”

Katie jolts like a scalded cat. “Mom!”

Leroy scrubs a hand over his face. “Sarah…”

“What?” Sarah throws up her hands. The parking lot lights catch on her Swarovski charm bracelet. “I tipped!”

“Like ten percent,” Katie says. She pulls her bucket hat over her eyes for a beat and then peeks at you from under it. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, she’s always like this.”

“It was actually a six percent tip,” you say. You’re getting a clearer picture of this little family now. It’s becoming more and more understandable why Katie might have started summoning ghosts. “If you want to be precise.”

Leroy reaches for his back pocket. “Let me.”

Sarah swats at his hand. “We’re about to pay her a lot more than that!”

“For a completely separate job,” Leroy says. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and hands it to you with a grimace. “Sorry, Grady, I should’ve checked.”

“You should’ve paid if you cared so much,” Sarah retorts. She folds her arms over her chest. She taps her cheek and widens her eyes. “Oh wait… you never pay.”

“Sure,” Leroy says. This time it’s his turn to throw his hands in the air. “Sure, Sarah. I don’t pay for anything to do with our daughter’s private school or her dance classes or her health insurance—”

“If the court hadn’t mandated—”

“You make twice as much as me—"

“Guys!” Katie says loudly. Her mouth is a thin line of upset when she says, “Argue about what an expensive burden I am later when we don’t have an audience, okay?”

Her parents speak at the same time.

“You’re twisting my words,” Sarah says. “I never said—"

“Sweetie, you’re not a burden—”

“Can you just get this ghost out of me?” Katie asks you. She goes for nonchalance and falls short. “My parents haven’t been in the same room for the last five years for a reason.” She fakes whispering. “They don’t play nicely with others.”

Sarah bristles. “Katie.”

“God, I know how that is,” you say. The whole interaction is giving you the worst case of sympathy for Katie. Before her parents can say anything else, you change the subject. “How long have you been haunted?”

“Six months,” Katie says. She fiddles with her bucket hat so that you can see her eyes for the first time. They’re brown, like her dad’s, and have heavy bruises underneath. She shrugs. “They only noticed a month ago though.”

“I noticed your behavior had changed,” Sarah defends. Like her daughter, she fidgets. She plays with her bracelet and clears her throat. “I thought it was a teenage thing.”

“What signs did you notice first?” you ask the parents. They glance at each other and then away.

“Let’s just say we noticed different things,” Leroy says dryly. He pulls out his phone.

“Moodiness,” Sarah says. She ticks them off on her fingers. “Laziness. Disrespect. Over-sleeping.”

“Those are just teenager things,” Katie says with an astounding level of self awareness. She shrugs. “I’m a senior now. They’re lucky it didn’t start sooner.”

“I,” Leroy says, “noticed this.” He turns his phone towards you.

“Ah,” Sarah says, “Yes. That.”

You examine the picture. It’s of Katie on a small dirt bike. She’s wearing a helmet in the picture, but you recognize the fashion sense in the floral boots she’s wearing. The scene behind her is of the hills, low scrub brush recognizable to someone who’s lived in LA for the past five years. On the bike behind her is a smudge. It could be a cloud of dirt blown into frame or maybe a camera glitch. It could be if it weren’t for the leering face emerging from the cloud right behind her head.

“I just want to say I did not agree to getting her a motorcycle,” Sarah says.

“Mom, not the point,” Katie says.

“Look how close that creep is to my daughter,” Leroy says. He jabs a finger at Katie’s waist in the photo where you can see a ghostly hand. “I want him gone.”

“Dad, he didn’t mean anything by it!” Katie turns to you earnestly. “Terry never rode a bike before and I thought, like, what if he moved on after he got a chance to? It was a philanthropic effort!”

“Plant a tree if you want to be a philanthropist,” Leroy growls. “I want this guy away from my daughter.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm really,” Katie says. “He would move on if he could! He says he’s stuck to me because of how I summoned him. He’s like, really sorry. He even spelled out Sorry in the bathroom mirror once.”

“What,” Sarah says in a dangerous voice, “was Terry doing in the bathroom with you, Katie?”

Katie splutters. “Mom, don’t be gross!”

The family descends into bickering. You have heard about ghosts being stuck to a person before, but usually that’s when the person has some sort of psychic powers. Katie’s wearing crystal in her ears, but they aren’t charged. She might develop some talent later in life, but right now she’s a normal girl.

The parking lost is nearly empty now. You recognize a few employee cars, but very few customers. The kitchen will be cleaning for another half hour before they’re ready to go home. The reality is that, if Terry is stuck, you might not be the best way to handle the situation. If he’s not…

Well.

It’s time to talk to Terry.

Opening your ghost sense is hard to describe. Some psychics liken it to a third eye, right in the middle of their forehead. You’ve always thought that sounded really cool like maybe the world gets cast in a blue hue when they do it and the dead appear like they do in movies. You’ve met other psychics who say it’s like a sixth sense. They know where the ghost is and it’s like they download all that information until their minds can just sort of conjure their image.

For you, it’s like letting your body remember it has a second mouth. Cats have an extra sensory organ on the roof of their mouth that lets them detect scents better. Your second mouth is a bit like that. You can still smell brownies and garlic and the city air of LA, but you can also smell/taste something else.

Something like…pepper?

Your eyes water and you sneeze so viciously that your eyes close. When you open them again, four people are staring at you in surprise.

“Gesundheit,” Leroy says.

“You sneeze like Dad does,” Katie says.

“Did no one ever teach you to cover your mouth?” Sarah asks in disgust.

“I wish you would’ve sneezed on her,” Terry says, nodding to Sarah. “She’s such a bitch.”

“Thank you for the commentary, everyone,” you say. You wipe your nose with the collar of your shirt as you consider Terry. It’s dirty anyway. “Terry. Interesting name for a ghost.”

Terry hasn’t noticed that you can see him yet. He’s floating behind Katie, one arm casually flung over her shoulder. It’s hard to place when he died based on his appearance alone. His hair is chin length, emphasizing the width of his jaw. Squire cuts have been popular for several decades and the bowling shirt he’s wearing could either be a modern fashion statement or a dated uniform. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, sun-kissed and with the air of someone who tells a lot of jokes at the expense of others. His arm around Katie strikes you as possessive, the glare he gives her parents venomous.

“I didn’t name him,” Katie says. “He said it’s short of Torrance.”

You blink. “Wouldn’t he be Torri then?”

“That’s a girl’s name,” Katie and Terry say at the same time. Their cadence is so close that it actually sounds like Terry’s baritone comes out of Katie’s mouth. For a moment, his arm flickers, clipping into her shoulder like a bad animation. When it does, Terry’s form grows brighter, more solid. Then Katie shivers and he’s forced out of her.

You and Terry click your tongues at the same time.

You remember how Katie’s hands seemed to blur at the dinner table. Terry’s not just haunting Katie. He’s trying to possess her. You wonder if that’s why Katie looked up an exorcist rather than a simple spiritual cleansing. Did she know how much danger she was in?

“Okay,” you say. You tear your attention away from Katie and Terry for a moment. Business first. “Sarah. Leroy. Who was it that found my site?”

“I did,” Sarah says. She raises her chin when you can’t hide your surprise. “When Katie was looking up exorcists—”

“She didn’t mean it,” Terry says. He pats Katie’s hat. “Right?”

“—I looked up alternative solutions,” Sarah says, not having heard Terry. Her confidence falters for a moment and she rubs her arm. “I have had some… negative experiences with exorcisms. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.”

Katie’s head whips towards her mother. “What? I didn’t know that.”

“It was a long time ago,” Leroy says. For the first time, he reaches out and hugs Sarah with one arm. You don’t know what surprises you more; Leroy hugging Sarah or Sarah leaning into his side. “When Sarah told me, we decided to put our differences aside. I vetted you through some of my contacts and they all agreed you’d be a safe bet.”

“I am,” you say. You’re not bragging either. You’re probably the safest bet in half the western states besides your older sister. “There are some…peculiarities in my method.”

“Charlatan,” Terry whispers in Katie’s ear. He’s grinning now. “Only charlatans are that confident. Look! She can’t even see me!”

Katie looks doubtful.

Usually, you’d try to talk to Terry at this point. Sometimes spirits can be negotiated with. They can be encouraged to move on or to take on a less aggressive form of haunting. Those that are truly stuck can be helped with the right sort of ritual work. But the way Terry’s affecting Katie’s mood and that fucking arm around her shoulders…

You don’t really want to talk to Terry.

“We can ask Terry to move on,” you tell the family.

“Nooooooo,” Terry says and flips you off. “Pass!”

“Sometimes spirits don’t realize how deeply they’re affecting their hosts,” you say.

“You don’t even know how deep I’m about to be,” Terry jeers at you.

“Many ghosts are confused when they’re called to interact with the living,” you say. “It can blur their understanding of death and, as a result, they cling to life. If they stick around long enough, their presence will affect the living like what’s happening to Katie. It’s not always malicious. It can be a symptom of that confusion.”

“Katie, tell her to piss off,” Terry hisses in the teen’s ear. “I’m not confused, I’m bored.” His voice deepens. “Tell her we don’t need her help. Tell her we’re going home.”

Katie opens her mouth robotically. “That’s…” Her brow creases as she tries to figure out what she was going to say. “It seems like we don’t need help then. Terry will move on when he’s ready, like I thought.”

“We aren’t paying you for a ghost therapy session,” Sarah snaps. It’s only because you’re really focusing that you can see the unease under her anger. She’s noticed something wrong with Katie. “Katie, Terry is going away today.”

“Fuck you,” Terry says.

“Fuck you,” Katie says.

Leroy’s head rears back. “Katie, you don’t use that language with your mother!”

“Fuck you too,” Katie and Terry say. The parking lot lights flicker.

“No, fuck you, Terry,” you say, stepping between Katie and her parents. Leroy starts like he’s going to pull you out of the way, but he doesn’t.

“Terry?” Leroy asks. He looks scared. “Terry said that? Is Terry possessing my daughter?”

“Not yet.” You eye Terry’s arm and the way his fingers are sinking into Katie’s arm.

“Oh fuck,�� Terry says. He doesn’t look scared. Not yet. Instead, he grins. “You can see me.”

“Not every ghost is malicious,” you tell the parents without taking your eyes off Terry. “But some are.”

“I’m not malicious.” Terry runs a hand through his hair, still grinning. The parking lot lights flicker overhead again. “I care about Katie a lot.”

“Terry’s never hurt me,” Katie says.

You ignore her. She’s not even shaking Terry off now. Her gaze is dull on your face when you say, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m some sort of ghost therapist. However, it’s important to differentiate between malicious and non-malicious hauntings in my practice. My methods are unconventional and, if used indiscriminately, I can get in a lot of trouble.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Leroy says. He steps into your periphery. His gaze flicks from you to the spot you’re staring at over Katie’s shoulder. “We want Terry gone.”

“Not a soul,” Sarah promises. She comes up on your other side. “Please help our daughter.”

“Terry,” you say. Your second mouth is yawning wide somewhere in the back of your brain. The taste of pepper isn’t as overwhelming now. “Last chance. Renounce your claim on Katie’s soul and slither back into whatever hole you came out of.”

“We’re soulmates,” Terry says. He bares his teeth at you. “Go on, Charlatan. Call on your God to banish me. I’ve been around for decades and no exorcist has ever been able to put a scratch on me. And when they manage to push me out?” He laughs and the temperature drops another ten degrees. An unholy light flickers in his eyes. “I just come right back.”

“Then I guess I won’t feel guilty,” you say.

“Guilty?” Katie asks.

You walk forward two steps and grab Terry’s face. Terry’s skin is soft and jelly-like. His facial bones undulate like rubber under your grip. “Hi, Terry.”

Now Terry’s afraid. “What the fuck, you can touch—?”

“Bye, Terry.” You drag him towards you. His fingers pop out of Katie’s arm with a wet sucking sound, and he claws at your wrist.

“Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait--”

You eat Terry.

People come from all around to eat at the Brownie Industry. They love the density of the desserts and the heaps of garlic spread over home-baked (shipped frozen) rolls. It’s a treat to know you’re always going to enjoy the meal even if you’re far from home or eating at the same location a hundred times. It’s consistency, sugar and butter. An easy addiction to have.

Eating ghosts is like that for you. They fizz in your second mouth like champagne and melt like fudge. It’s hard to describe and the ephemeral quality of it sends shivers down your spine. Somewhere Terry is screaming in anguish, maybe crying. You think that the family you’re helping is screaming something too, but the sensation of eating is so consuming you can’t hear the words.

Terry is younger than other ghosts you’ve eaten. He doesn’t have the depth of flavor you’d once been addicted to back in Illinois. The best ghost you’ve ever eaten had been like a six-course meal with all the centuries she’d been carrying. In comparison, Terry is like a bag of pepper chips. Interesting, but gone in a moment. Still, he hits the spot.

When you’re done, you burp a purple cloud of ectoplasm into the still night air.

Leroy is the first to speak. His eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around them. “Pay her, Sarah,” he says breathlessly. His hands shake as he reaches for Katie, steadying her on her feet. “Now.”

You smack your lips and graciously accept the wad of cash Sarah hands you. You raise your eyebrows. “This is more than three times my rate.”

“Consider it a tip,” Sarah says. She’s more composed than Leroy, but still pale. She studies you. “That was…revolting.”

“You didn’t have to watch,” you say. You put your money away and then perk up at a sudden thought. “Hey, if you can, can you leave me a review on my site?”

“I thought you didn’t want us to tell anyone?”

You wave your hand. “Secrets are bad for business. Besides, Terry deserved it. I’m sure they’ll understand if you write that in your review.”

“They…?”

You smile and don’t answer.

The family don’t ask many more questions after that. The parents promise to leave a review and Katie just stares at you as if concussed. You assure the parents that she’ll be back to normal as soon as the soul-shock wears off.

“And if it doesn’t?” Sarah asks.

“Message me,” you say.

“You don’t check your messages,” Leroy says.

“Oh,” you say, patting your stomach, “I’ll be checking them a lot more often now.”

You’re hungry again.

---

(Patreon)

#my writing #ghosts #second person #it's spooky season #long post

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augustinewrites · 5 months ago

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Ooh shit I had the worlds worst thought— Megumi snapping at Fushigojo mom OF ALL PEOPLE in the heat of some kind or argument or bad day or something and blurting out “you’re not my mom” and then just AAAH IT WOULD BE SO SAD ALL FOUR OF THEM WOULD BE HEARTBROKEN AND MEGUMI WOULD BE SO UPSET WITH HIMSELF 😭😭😭🕳️🚶‍♀️

things have been difficult since tsumiki had fallen into a coma.

it's hard not to feel her absence at home. the empty seat at the dining table, the untouched laundry left folded in the hamper. somehow she's everywhere and nowhere, and it hurts.

you and satoru are heartbroken of course, but you can't begin to imagine how megumi feels.

at first he'd been quiet. megumi had always been quiet, but this was different. the two of you used to sit in comfortable silence, content to read quietly in each other's presence. now he shuffles to and from his bedroom barely uttering a word, silence hanging heavy as you try to coax him into staying.

then his grades had started slipping. you weren't awfully concerned. his teachers had been sympathetic enough to exempt him from final exams, and excuse any late or incomplete papers. despite his record of delinquency, he's always gotten high marks.

you could excuse these things. the silence, the grades. he's a little brother missing his big sister, and he's hurting.

but now he was starting to act out.

picking fights at school, talking back to faculty, giving attitude.

you startle where you stand in the kitchen when the front door suddenly slams shut, revealing a grumpy looking megumi. he kicks his shoes off, making a beeline for his room without stopping to greet you.

satoru holds a hand up before you can ask, walking over to the genkan to fix the sneakers.

"what now?" you ask, wiping your hands on your apron when your husband returns, kissing your forehead.

"suspended indefinitely for fighting," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "he has to write an apology letter to everyone involved, and the headmaster said that next is expulsion."

"he can't keep doing this," you frown. "one of us needs to talk to him."

satoru is quick to touch the tip of his nose. "not it."

you roll your eyes (like megumi would, is that where he got it?) "yeah, it's probably best that you don't. he'd bite your head off."

he leans back against the counter, relieved. "yeah, i'd just— wait. you're doing that reverse psychology stuff on me again!"

feigning cluelessness is easy. "what are you talking about?"

"when you tell me i shouldn't do something and it makes me want to prove myself!"

"not my fault you're an incredibly prideful man."

"and just this once, i'll actually admit that talking to moody teens is not one of my many skills," he says. "this is your territory. you're the only one he might listen to. you've always been his favourite."

deep down, you know that he's right. you're the first one megumi goes to for everything. the first one he comes to with a new bump or scrape. the one whose side of the bed he squeezes into when he has a nightmare. the first one he talks to when he has a fight with a friend, or his sister...

you learned pretty quickly that megumi hated when people fussed over him (it came with his lone wolf tendencies) but he always let you.

so you steel yourself with a deep breath before knocking on his bedroom door.

"megumi?" you call gently. "can i come in?"

you decide to take his muffled response as permission, twisting the knob and slowly pushing the door open.

megumi's sat on the floor with his back pressed against the bed and his knees drawn up to his chest.

you close the door behind you. "thank you for letting me in."

he hums, peeking at you over his knees.

you sit on the floor across from him, rubbing your palms against your thighs. "i know that whatever we're feeling can't compare to how bad you're hurting, but we're worried about you."

"i'm fine."

"you're not, and you can't keep acting out at school."

"okay, i'll stop," he shrugs.

you should stop here. but you know megumi. he's only saying it because he knows that's what you want to hear.

you reach out, gently grasping his hand. "megumi, please. you can't keep this all in anymore. you always talk to me—"

"i don't want to talk about it," he snaps, jerking away from your touch. "can you just leave me alone?"

you flinch a little, surprised by the slight raise in his voice. he's never yelled at you. never snapped at you like that.

you're pushing too much, you realize. he's not ready to talk yet, you have to apologize.

"megumi, i'm—"

"just— just stop!" he shouts, expression stormy. "stop fussing over me, you're not my mom!"

to his credit, megumi looks like he regrets the words immediately, lips already shooting off an apology you can't seem to hear.

it does nothing to soothe the way your chest aches, full of hurt and a touch of betrayal. those words shouldn't hurt you as much as they do. he's right, you're not his mother.

but you don't even get to utter a word before the door swings open, a pissed off looking satoru striding into the room. shit. so he had been listening. "listen here you little shit—"

you stagger to your feet, stepping between your boys. "satoru, don't. don't! he's just upset."

"he can't talk to you like that!"

"let it go," you plead. "fighting is the last thing the three of us should be doing right now, okay?"

the three of you stand there for what seems like a lifetime, letting all the pain, frustration, and heartache fill the quiet apartment.

satoru shoots one last stern look around you before drawing a deep breath and focusing on you. you do the same as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, thumb swiping a stray tear away.

"we're just gonna give you some space, megs."

_____

"he didn't mean it," you remind satoru again that night, when sleep seems to be avoiding the both of you.

"i know. he still hurt your feelings though."

"well, he was right. i'm not his mom."

your husband tuts softly, reaching across the mattress and pulling you into his chest. "so what if you didn't give birth to them? you're something better because you chose them. you chose to love them and raise them when you didn't have to."

"of course i had to. they wouldn't have lasted a week in your care."

"oh? now who's being a little shit? i see where megumi gets his attitude from."

foreheads pressed together, the two of you laugh quietly. you feel light for the first time in weeks. the man holding you close, the boy sulking in his room, and the girl laying in the hospital.

they're your family, and you know they'll always love you as much as you love them.

waking up in the middle of the night to megumi squishing between you both (and satoru actually letting him) is as good a sign as any.

#gojo x reader #keeping up with the fushigojos #[💌—inbox]#WOOOOO IVE HAD THIS IN MY INBOX SINCE LIKE JANUARY #anon thank you for this

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lady-of-endless · 8 months ago

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I THUNKED A THOUGHT! Because of Jotaro's stoic and reserved nature he is most likely not into PDA, HOWEVER. What if he used his stand instead? It's not public, and non standusers can't see stands!

So with that information, may I request hcs for part 3 joot giving PDA to gn s/o through Star Plat?

Jotaro showing affection with the help of Star Platinum headcanons

Author's Note: YES! I love it when some ideas I once had get requested, it feels like we're sharing the same neuron. Thank you so much for this. I love Joot and Star Plat, big cuties. I hope I got it right and you'll enjoy!

- Once you accept this type of affection, you'll discover that Star Platinum is a very clingy Stand to the ones Jotaro cares for. And Star Platinum, much like his owner, has no shame but the difference is that his Stand doesn't grasp the concept of PDA, he's just happy to be able to express his attachment to Jotaro and you.

- It starts with Star Platinum staring at you with big eyes whenever he's around you, almost scaring you as you turn around and see him like that. He is a simple warrior Stand who likes to stare at pretty things and people, don't mind him.

- From the beginning, we know that Star Platinum manifested to help Jotaro but he was rejected as a protector and pictured as an "evil spirit" instead. Seeing how Jotaro didn't accept his presence at first, Star started spoiling him by bringing everything Jotaro liked. Expect him to do that to you as well. Snacks, flowers, things he things you enjoy.

- Jotaro will scold Star Platinum for spoiling you like that but that's all. He doesn't tell him to stop though, realizing how this might be a good compensation for his lack of PDA. He can't help but sigh and let it happen.

- Star Platinum does whatever Jotaro wants and is a softie so once he gets the green light from Jotaro, get ready for affection. You won't notice it but before any move, Star asks Jotaro for permission. For example, if he wants to hold your hand, he points at your hand, looking back at Jotaro until he nods and gets the sign that it's alright to touch your hand.

- Whenever Jotaro feels his hands itching to touch you while you are in public, he'll just have to stare at you until Star Platinum understands what he has to do. He feels your warmth through his Stand's touch and he's pleased.

- Jotaro rolls his eyes at everything. He thinks that Star Platinum is going soft because of you. But guess what? Everyone knows that a Stand is an extension, a manifestation, of the soul and that only means that deep down in his soul, Jotaro craves giving you this kind of affection but doesn't allow himself to show it to you just yet.

- Star considers you a part of Jotaro since he notices how much he cares about you and how much he feels about you. So, whenever you're in danger, he's there, protecting you just like he protects Jotaro. Above all affection, you feel protection from him the most.

- Other stand users are going to be petrified when they see Jotaro's tall frame and intense look on his face next to you and a huge-looking purple Stand looming over you from behind while you're there just smiling, minding your business. You're going to have scary dog privileges with both of them.

- Star Platinum's favorite way of being around you is by having his large arms around your torso from behind. (a bit similar to the gif I attached)

- Jotaro notices that you enjoy this affection so he keeps it going in public until he's alone with you and it's his turn to be affectionate without the help of Star Platinum.

#jojo bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo #star platinum #jjba jotaro #jjba part 3 #jjba stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders #jotaro x reader #jotaro headcanons #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic

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tsukii0002 · 8 months ago

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Levi: Mc!!!! Mammon won't give me my money back

Mc: Mammon either give Levi his money back or stop asking him for money.

Later that day

Belphie: Mc, Lucifer won't stop sending me work that I don't have to do.

Mc: Lucifer!!! Stop bringing you extra work and you Belphie do your fair share!!!

A couple of hours later

Solomon: Mc! Asmo won't let me wear my wizard cape!

Mc: *sighing* Asmo let everyone dress the way they want to dress, ok?

A while later

Luke:*crying* Mc!! Beel has eaten the cake I had just made!!!!

Mc: Beel!!! What did we say about eating Luke's sweets without permission????

After all day resolving other people's conflicts

Mc: Can't you do anything on your own?!!!!

Barbatos: *standing next to Mc with a smile* ….

Mc: Barbatos?

Barbatos: Mc, the young master keeps touching my exclusive tea pots.

Mc: …

Mc: All of you do this on purpose, don't you?

Barbatos: ...

Mc: *sighs* Diavolo!!!!

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cherubfae · 10 months ago

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𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰 || {𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢}

tags: fluff, shy!gn!reader, ftm!reader for Angel 💕 crushing/mutual pining, pre-established relationships, blitz's relationship/intimacy issues (but we gonna get that healthy growth we need), striker's is a bit suggestive!

Alastor

You weren't sure the barrier of touching Alastor would ever be something that would be crossed and you told yourself that you didn't mind. You chose to revel in the moments of when he sought out affections and physical closeness be it dancing or if he suddenly tugs you in to tell you something. Alastor is not very privy to other people's space and Heaven forbid someone enter his without permission. Quite the contradiction.

Now, if he notices you're purposely not trying to give him any sort of touch or affection, he will get rather annoyed. You, darling, are the only one who he doesn't mind touching him. Has he expressed this? No. Will he? Maybe. Did he expect you to be able to read his mind? Quite possibly.

Alastor hoped to have made a smoother transition rather than just outright grasping your hand. Even he seemed surprised by his own action, static feedback chirping from him. His ears flick and the slightest sliver of a blush creeps from beneath his suit collar.

"I don't mind if it's you, dearest. I... I don't detest your touch as much as the others." Alastor clears his throat, his large hand briefly covers your smaller one. Giving your hand a little squeeze, he stands abruptly and disappears into shadow and darkness.

You'd never seen Alastor embarrassed before. How cute.

Lucifer

He's a pretty affectionate guy, especially once he's comfortable around you! His heart warms as you mindlessly play with your fingers, eyes looking everywhere but at him. The more you feel his stare, the more the blush darkens on your face.

"Take it easy there, sweetling," Lucifer's soft tone eases your senses. Pressing a light kiss to your forehead, he pulls back. He offers his hand, palm upwards, giving you time to back away. His gentle smile deepens when you slip your hand in his, his thumb brushing along your knuckles. Tugging you to his side gently, your shoulders brushing, you continue on the sidewalk towards Hell's finest local café.

Husk

While not one for PDA, Husk doesn't mind affection behind closed doors. Preferably out of sight of anyone who may mock and tease him for it.

He didn't however expect you to be sitting on his bed, thumbs lightly pressing into the center of his paw watching his claws go from being exposed and then retracting thanks to your gentle manipulations. He snorts lightly, as silly as you were, he couldn't be mad at your fascination.

"You're lucky you're cute, hun. If you were anyone else I may not be as nice as I am with ya." Husk smirks. Maintaining complete eye contact, you raise his paw to your lips and give it a soft kiss, grinning as Husk jolts with a huffy mrow. "Sneaky brat," he sighs, falling back on his bed with an arm over his eyes.

Angel Dust

You want to hold his hand? Which one, babe? He's got six! :) Angel is understanding of your shy nature, though he hopes you'll be able to be more bold with him in the future. He won't pressure you, of course, but he wants you to know that you can trust him. That he is capable of taking things slow.

"Is this okay?" Angel asks, softly grasping your hand in his gloved one. When you make no move to pull from his touch, a happy wobbly smile wiggles onto his face. He lightly leans his cheek against the top of your head, a brief sign of his affection. He can snuggle you more later, but for now, he wants to enjoy the day with his favorite person.♡

Vox

Intimacy of any sorts isn't foreign to him, but he's not used to someone so good, so pure. And he's certainly not used to that innocent attention being directed at him. Any time you touch him, even if you only accidentally brushed past him, it leaves him buzzing. Craving for something more. He wants your sweet smile to be directed at him and him alone. It takes everything in Vox not to scream when you give his hand a small squeeze only to pull back, muttering apologies. Soon, he's reaching for you again, taking your hand in his.

"I didn't say that I hated it." Vox whispered in an uncharacteristically soft way. His eyes flicker up to your face, then back to see where his hand has dwarfed yours. With his free hand falling to your hip, lightly stroking circles there, he pulls you to stand between his legs. Your other arm slides to rest on his shoulder as his clawed hand curls around the back of your knee. Intimate but not forceful. There's no aggression in his movements. Lifting your head towards him, even with Vox sitting down, he's much taller than you. His eyes hold a silent question, one that you answer with that smile he loves so much and a nod, and his lips press to yours with your hands still joined.

Blitzø

Romantic gestures are a big deal for him. Big in the way that he struggles with them, but that he doesn't want it to be something that holds him back. He really doesn't. Familial and platonic he understands, but Blitz is pretty damned confused with the fact that you want to even be near someone like him. He doesn't want to inadvertently hurt you by acting how he does. He doesn't wanna fuck up, but goddammit, he really does want to be near you. He wants to be able to give you everything you could need and more, he just doesn't know how. How to unfuck himself.

"Sl-slow," Blitz's voice betrays him with a crack and he swallows thickly, taking your hand in his. Ever grateful that you're the ones in I.M.P right now. This is different. Intimate. He's shaky, palms sweaty. His brain feels foggy and it's suddenly hotter than normal. He feels dizzy and like the floor may break beneath his feet and swallow him whole. The second you start to withdraw, he's tugging you back to him with a soft, raspy, "No." This is progress. Progress is good.

Facing him now, your other hand slides up to his. Both your palms are pressed together. Blitz keeps his gaze on the floor, unable to help how fidgety he feels, even as he laces your fingers together, and leans his head onto your shoulder. He's not gonna let you pull away. Not yet. Please...

Loona

Lighting up a cigarette, Loona leans her back against a wall of some dingy alleyway in the human world. You had chosen to wait with her, both dressed in your human disguises, hoping that any second Blitz and M&M would return with the mission completed. Your sole purpose tonight had been to guard Stolas's grimoire and open the portal when everyone was ready to return home.

Blowing her smoke towards the sky, Loona hummed softly. "At least it's a nice night, huh?" She smiles lightly, grateful her tail was hidden in this form when you leaned against the wall beside her. You looked great; you always did.

A vast blue sky with billions of twinkling stars smiled down on you two. It was a nice change of pace from the hellish red glow of your home. This particular area of Earth was quiet. Peaceful, even. Nodding your head you smile at her, Loona swallows.

Her pinky finger lightly brushed your own, a gentle startled gasp leaving you. But you smile, albeit shyly, your hand taking hers. Not many words were exchanged, none needed to be. Just Loona smoking her cigarette and looking up at the stars.

Striker

Ain't you just the cutest little thing? You think he doesn't notice how worked up and shy you get when he's just finished wrangling in some dinner, with his bare, sweaty muscles on display. It's a direct, unvoiced invite for only you and yet you haven't taken him up on anything yet. Why?

"You scared of me, sugar?" Striker drawls, flicking his cigar butt into the dirt and crushing it with the heel of his boot. You look up at him with those big, beautiful doe eyes and adamantly shake your head that you weren't. "Then what is it, darlin'? Spit it out." He smirks, gold tooth glinting.

Cheeks heating, you gnaw on your lower lip. "I'd like to hold your hand." Striker blinks, clearly taken aback. That's it? You're getting so worked up like a nervous virgin begging for a thick cock because you want to... Hold his hand? He stops himself from laughing, he can tell that it's really bothering you. Heaving a sigh, Striker plops down beside you. Pulling you into his lap, his arms slide around your waist and he offers both his hands to you. He hides his reddening face at your back, the sound of his blood rushes in his ears, unable to focus on anything but how soft your hands are. And how well they fit into his. "Jus' do it then, they're yours to touch, ain't they?"

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin imagines #hazbin hotel x you #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss x you #helluva boss imagines #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #vox x reader #blitz x reader #loona x reader #striker x reader #cherubfae 2024

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dailymanners · 3 months ago

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Don't touch other people without their explicit knowledge and permission. When in doubt, always ask first. If someone says they don't want to be touched, respect this.

This is especially important when it comes to strangers and acquaintances, and especially in situations where there's a power dynamic, such as an adult asking before hugging a child, or even an older child such as an older sibling or older cousin asking before hugging or touching a younger child.

This is important for making the world a kinder place for those with trauma or neurodivergent people, because a lot of forms of trauma and neurodivergence make it extra disturbing and unpleasant to be touched without consent. Or even if someone isn't traumatized or neurodivergent, it's still fair to not want to be touched and to have that boundary respected.

It's also important for teaching kids boundaries and consent from a young age.

This applies to all situations, even situations many may think are an exception, such as if someone is pregnant. Often people will think it's acceptable to approach a pregnant stranger in public and just touch their stomach without permission. However, someone can be pregnant AND traumatized or neurodivergent. Or even if they're not traumatized or neurodivergent, it's still normal to find it uncomfortable for a total stranger to walk up to you in a grocery store and just put their hand on your stomach without asking. Contrary to popular belief, being pregnant doesn't make this any less weird.

Of course as you get to know someone you'll get more familial with what their boundaries are and how comfortable they are with being touched. But when in doubt, just ask.

#manners #good manners #courtesy #etiquette #politeness

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awxcoffeexno · 4 months ago

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the patient - part 1

toxic!loganhowlett x reader

like real people do

series masterlist | fic masterlist | part 2 >>

summary: logan's in love w jean, ur in love w logan, and he comes to your bed every night that he cannot spend in hers.

content: more angst, the awxcoffeexno special. terribly, terribly toxic relationship between reader and logan. they both need copious amounts of therapy. this one-shot takes place in the x-mansion where reader is a student of the professor and logan is... well, logan. reader also has powers, you'll learn of them as you go.

warnings: all mentions of jean are actually referring to the phoenix who is extremely mentally unstable, logan mandhandles the reader quite a bit but never hurts her, the relationship portrayed is horribly toxic.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: wowowow im so happy the world is FINALLY sharing in my obsession with logan, he's such a cutie patootie. this fic isn't my best but it's an idea I've had for soooo long that i just had to have a crack at it.

you can sense him coming 3 minutes before he's made the decision to seek you out.

you sit up straight at your desk, eyes flicking down to the research paper you've been working on with the professor. you decide to get the last paragraph in, fingers scrambling across the keyboard to finish your thoughts before logan makes you forget everything.

and then he's at your door, throwing it open without knocking.

"good." he grunts. "you're here."

stepping inside, he locks the door and turns to you. and fuck, you hate this. you hate when he's like this, you hate everything about this arrangement.

well, almost everything. how could you possibly hate the way he walks over to you and leans down, brows set in a deep frown, pulling you up by your jaw? how could you possibly hate the desperation, the need, in his eyes as he he flutters them shut, pressing his lips to yours? how could you possibly hate the smell of wood and tobacco and... logan... as he slips his hand off your jaw to painfully wrap around your throat?

but when you slip into his mind, quiet as a cat, making sure not to give your presence away, his thoughts are swirling mostly with one person. and it's decidedly not you.

"no," you gasp into his warm mouth. "no, logan."

he grunts in protest, moving his mouth from yours to your neck.

"logan, please..." you try again, pushing your hands between you both. you reach for his cheek but grabs your hand in a vice grip and yanks away from you. he will not let you touch his cheek, he will not let you use your powers on him.

"what?!" he snaps. "what do you want."

he hardly even notices his own actions as he uses the same hand to also ensnare your other wrist, squeezing tight to let you know not to even attempt wriggling free.

you swallow thickly and look into his glowering eyes. "you know i don't like it when you... when it isn't about me. when it's about... her. i can't stand it. it feels... wro–"

and his free hand is wrapped around your jaw. you've done it again. you read his mind without his permission after years of him telling you off about it, years of him telling you to "back the fuck off, bub."

but you can't help it. you do it all the time. he lets jean do it. why should you not be allowed? why are you always lesser to him than she will ever be?! especially when she hurts him so much he has to come to you to lick his wounds clean?

jean's... broken. you're perfectly fit. jean's hardly ever there to give him what he needs, you're always by his side, before he even knows he'll need you. it's just how your powers work, and you don't hear him complaining about using the future for his advantage. and yet all he does is think about her. even when he's here to fuck you.

"logan, how about you let me go and go back to carrot top?" you say, evening your voice out in that way you do when you know you can talk people into things with your hand on their cheek. but your hands are both trapped in his crushing grip and there's no way he's going to let you move them.

he's glaring at you. gauging you. and you slip into his thoughts again – yup, he's dreaming of ways to kill you. you snort. well, at least you're on his mind now.

"get the fuck out of my head." he growls and lets you go roughly, shoving you back. you stumble back but hold your ground. he would never actually push you hard enough to hurt.

that's the easiest part about loving logan. feeling safe even when it hurts.

you take a deep breath and restart, voice still even.

"logan?"

you watch his shoulders sag in defeat as he leans against the window sill and sighs.

"logan, i... i just..."

he looks back at you, eyes sluggish. tired. "you just what?"

"i don't like being your... stress ball." you sit down on the bed, massaging your temple because you cannot read his thoughts anymore. he's spending a significant amount of his energy blocking you out.

"don't hear you complainin' when i'm balls deep in you most nights."

you cringe at the crudeness and rub your face. he stands up a little straighter at your reaction, having realised over the years that all your anxious tics reside in your face. the way you rub it, the way you harshly massage your temples, the way you chew on your lip and pull the little baby hairs out of your hairline. and now you're all that is on his mind.

he carefully pads over and crouches down in front of you. eyes softer, way gentler. his hands slip around your wrists again and tighten but this time his grip is friendly, comforting. he's trying to ground you.

"me on your mind, sweetheart?" he says, voice heartbreakingly soft. you simply nod so he continues, "mmm... i hurt you today?"

a lot, you want to say. all you ever want is her. your jean. the jean you'd do anything for even when she's trying to drag the animal out of you and turn you into a beast, logan.

"a little." you settle.

he shifts both your wrists into his left hand and slips his right palm onto your cheek. "how can i make it better?"

you swallow thickly. you have to choose your words wisely. none of your powers would be useful right now, so you lean in and kiss him first.

"i'm scared." you sniffle. "scared of losing you to her completely. you love her, lo. so much you let her chop your mind up into little pieces and put it back together every single day."

his eyes fall in a rare moment of vulnerability so you don't let go of your momentum.

"she's hurting you so much," you whisper, aching to reach out for his cheek and take it all away. "i cannot keep fixing the wounds that she creates."

his eyes snap up to you at that. "well, if you don't want this–"

"no! that's not what i'm saying, james! fuck, i want you! i need you. but it's all i've become to you," you whine with a pathetic sob. "a way to fall asleep at night. a means to an end. a solace from all the pain."

"when you know that that's what this is... that you can take my pain away..." he looks at you, his dark eyes accusatory.

and fuck, what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? what kind of doctor turns a patient away? a patient so desperate for care?

so you close your eyes and let the ache wash over you. several minutes pass in silence and he starts to get up.

"you're right," you finally mumble.

when you open your eyes he's still looking at you.

"i'm sorry. i don't know why i did what i did. of course i want to help."

he's immediately scooping you up and lying you down. logan's easy like that. he never asks too many questions.

he kisses you, softer than he ever has before and starts working his way down your chin and neck and... how does it always end like this for you? with you giving in and him having his way with you. with you under him, tears in your eyes because you do not want him to stop but it hurts so badly to be his second. his second priority, his second thought, his second need.

will you ever be able to deny him?

"open your mouth, sugar." he coos, slipping two fingers past your chewed up lips to let you wet them.

your eyes roll back into your head as you suck on his digits, body reacting in tandem with his.

no, there is no way you would ever deny him anything.

"logan?" you whisper when his pulls the fingers out.

"hmm?"

"i love you."

"i know."

i have once again risen from dead. i hope you liked this xxxxxxxxxxx ily

love, d <3

part 2 >>

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine angst #logan howlett angst #logan howlett xmen #xmen #xmen fanfiction

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casualhedonists · 1 year ago

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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism (lmk if i forgot anything!) murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here

chapter: 1/? (chapter 2 here)

MASTERLIST

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

A/N: this is what happens when i let my brain loose to do whatever tf it wants (title is from attention by doja cat as is the general theme)

Show you how to touch it Hold it like it's precious It don't need your lovin' It just needs attention

You were getting tired of this charade.

Snow was courting you, or so it would seem. In truth, it was all for show. He was seen with you on his arm at public events, just enough to make it look like you were together. Marriage was probably further down the line, but Snow was in no rush for that to happen. For now, he was pleased with the positive attention he received for appearing like a reliable, loving, doting partner.

“There’s a science behind it,” Cordelia, Snow’s preferred public relations manager - and one of the Capitol’s best - had told you in a meeting between the three of you, discussing strategy, coordinating events, and how best to make the relationship seem authentic. “The more the public see you as grounded, committed, and warm, the more respect they hold for you. The more open they are to your ideas, and any changes you make as president.”

You’d concealed your smirk well enough for it to go unnoticed upon hearing that.

Snow was a lot of things, but he was never warm. The name itself decreed it. He was cold, calculating, sharp witted, manipulative. Power hungry.

You were fine with the arrangement at first. It suited your thirst for power; despite coming from one of the richest families in the capital, Snow’s power was of a different breed. You wanted in, and so when your social circles crossed over and the proposition was made, you’d risen to the occasion.

The reality was this: it was a good arrangement. Coriolanus was adored and admired by any outsider with a pair of eyes, and you got anything you wanted. You got to live in the manor house Coriolanus occupied, eating good food while being waited on hand and foot. You got to network with powerful people in the highest of society. Even if you wanted someone executed, it would be carried out in turn, without question. Name it, and it was yours. Snow was a generous host and ally to you.

It was everything you wanted.

Almost.

Somehow, despite it all, all the custom gowns shipped in from the expensive designers, the buffet spreads and the silk sheets, the way that people had begun to stare in respect as soon as you walked into a room, there was just one thing that itched at you, one thing you knew wasn’t part of the plan.

It was Snow.

Somewhere, between the light kisses in front of expectant eyes, the gentle hand on yours at dinner, that was hurriedly removed once you were behind closed doors again, you’d grown a gnawing, incessant want towards the man that had given you almost everything you could ever hope for.

Eight months, this had been going on. Eight months since Snow suggested this business proposal. Sex was never a part of the deal. And of course, you couldn’t sleep with anyone you pleased; that would be catastrophic for both of your reputations. And so it had been eight months since anybody had touched you other than yourself, biting your pillow so nobody could hear Snow’s name on your lips as you gripped the sheets. Even if you wanted to sleep with other people, you couldn’t. Truth is though, you’d developed rather expensive taste. A taste for only him. Even if you had the choice, nobody else would do.

You wondered if he ever thought of you while he touched himself. That thought slipped into your head every so often, when your hand was between your thighs. Then it became a more frequent occurrence. Then it became a nightly one, and by then, you were pretty sure you’d started going crazy.

You weren’t a romantic - this arrangement would never have worked if you were. You were like him; power hungry, relentless, impatient. And most of all, when you wanted something, you got it. And you wanted to seduce Coriolanus Snow.

So you’d started leaving breadcrumbs. Put an extra glint in your eyes when you glanced over at him, in public, first, and then in private more and more. You’d thrown out dozens of your more conservative dresses, keeping only the shortest ones that hugged your hips and dropped tantalisingly low on the neckline. Started wearing them more around the house, pretending to drop things just so you could bend down in front of him.

You estimated this act would last for a good week or two before Snow folded.

You were wrong.

If anything, it seemed to render Snow even more indifferent to you than he’d been before you started playing your little games. And each time he ignored you, glanced unimpressed at your outfit then looked away, or full-on walked right past you out the room, you started to simmer even more.

A normal girl in a normal situation would take a hint, cut her losses. But you were no normal girl, and this was no ordinary situation.

You had to be in the same boat, surely. Snow was still just a man, after all. A man with similarly limited options, and you knew he must’ve at least found you a little attractive, else he wouldn’t have chosen you to parade around on his arm in public, in pretty dresses and expensive jewellery.

Snow’s indifference only fuelled your fire. Sure, an ordinary girl would just give up. But eight months of this torture and you were at your breaking point. Besides, it was either him, or nobody. You weren’t giving up. Not in this lifetime.

So you got more obvious. Started taking breakfast in your nightgown each morning instead of getting dressed, sitting opposite Coriolanus with several feet of the mahogany table between you, biting into grapes from the fruit bowl and letting the juice trail down your chin, wiping it off then sucking your fingers clean, humming with your digits in your mouth, glancing at him with full-blown bedroom eyes when he’d look over at you from behind his paper.

It was no use. Nearly a month had passed and he’d barely even looked at you for more than a second at a time. Your conversations were short, lacklustre and strictly business related. You’d even tried playing on his heartstrings, asking about his day and work and his family. You were lucky if you got more than blunt, one-worded answers every time.

You’d exhausted yourself with all these failed attempts, until one Thursday night you heard footsteps walking past your bedroom door. This wasn’t abnormal - Snow kept extensive household staff - except for the sound of these were different. You recognised the faint clicking of heels against the hardwood, a sound you heard all the time at galas and balls, but never in these halls, when an event was nowhere on the radar. And this was one such night.

Your curiosity led you off your bed and to the door, gently opening it to glance outside. Whoever it was had turned the corner, the clicking fading down the hallway. You carefully closed the door behind you and began to follow the sound. A chill ran up the backs of your legs as you walked; it was getting slightly colder as winter closed in, and your bedroom attire wasn’t exactly fit for the weather, given that you picked out the laciest, most impractical slips to sleep in, ready for your performance the next morning at breakfast.

You paced down the corridor, winding past the door to each room, a study, a small library (the larger one was downstairs), Snow’s office, and then finally, at the end, the door to Snow’s bedroom.

Oh.

This room was always enigmatic to you, as you’d never been inside. Your obsession with Snow had led you to wonder, day in and day out, what lay behind that door. The color of his bedsheets, what sat on his dresser, the contents of his closet, what aftershave he wore that had caused you to develop a practically pavlovian reaction anytime he got close to you.

You paused, a few feet away from the door, fearing Snow’s response if you crossed that line, if he were to walk out and find you hovering between his office and his room, clearly attempting to eavesdrop.

You heard shifting, then voices inside as you focused all your attention onto listening, trying hard to pick up on the conversation. You took another tentative step forward, practicing in your head what you would say if he stepped outside. I just wanted to ask what you wanted me to wear on Monday’s gala, I was thinking the white dress with the gold detailing. It wasn’t too late in the evening for that to be a viable excuse, if you could make it sound convincing enough.

But as you got closer you noticed something. There was a soft light spilling out from behind the door, which was in fact, just slightly ajar.

Snow usually kept the door locked at all times, you knew that from testing the handle - admittedly more than a few times - when he had been out of the house, and you were certain he wouldn’t be home for hours. This was something different. This felt dangerous, like walking a tightrope that was about to get cut, but the thrill of adrenaline pushed you forward.

You’d stopped hearing voices by then. You snuck ever closer, ears starting to ring as you found yourself drawn to the open door, taking silent steps towards it until there was no going back, and your body was practically flush to it. Holding your breath, you peeked through, pushing it ever so gently, praying that it wouldn’t creak. You had to crane your neck slightly to see any movement in the room, but it didn’t take long to see it, and when you did, you certainly didn’t feel cold anymore. Any curious whims on the color of his furniture and walls were long pushed to the side, because you couldn’t have focused on anything else in the room if you tried.

Snow was sat on a deep red velvet ottoman at the foot of his bed, shirt buttons undone and pushed behind him, leaving you with a full view of his chest. Your eyes panned down to see his usually pristine dress pants rolled carelessly down, pooling around his ankles. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows in a similarly rushed manner. One hand was behind him, propping himself up, and the other was tightly gripping a handful of blonde hair, belonging to a girl that knelt at his feet in nothing but black underwear and stiletto heels - the culprit of the footsteps - moving her head up and down as Snow roughly guided her, lips parted, head tipped back, eyes firmly shut, breathing roughly. A few strands of damp blonde hair had fallen to his temples, just enough to make him look disheveled, yet somehow still regal, like a greek god.

You stood there, frozen. A million emotions battling for dominance in your head, anger, panic, fear, raging jealousy. Desire.

That was the one that stuck with you in the moment. It was a good thing Snow’s eyes were closed and the girl’s back was facing you, because your feet were firmly planted on the ground, watching this scene unfold, and you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere even if you tried. Watching as Snow’s breathing got heavier, as his grip on the girl’s hair got tighter and more forceful. Watching as her one arm gripped his thigh, and the other moved to where her mouth was, out of your eyeshot, and the obscenity of this was made somehow worse by the fact that you couldn’t see exactly what was happening.

Firstly, because it allowed your brain to fill in the blanks as Snow hissed through his teeth and dropped his head back. Secondly, because from this angle, you couldn’t see the girl’s face, and you were able to picture yourself in her place, wet mouth wrapped around him, being the cause of his undoing.

Come to think of it, there was another reason you were glad you couldn’t see her face, and it was purely for her sake. Because if you could’ve seen her, you would’ve had no excuse not to kill the bitch then and there.

You could hear, though. You could hear her soft moans and the lewd wetness of her mouth as her head moved even faster, before Snow took full control as his hips started to jerk, holding her head in place. There was a fire in the pit of your stomach and your lips were parted, staring. Knowing that if even for a second, Snow opened his eyes just for a glance, he’d see you immediately. You’d be hanged, probably. Or worse. And yet you didn’t run; you couldn’t. Nothing on God’s earth could’ve caused your feet to turn you around and leave the room. It was like you were suspended in some dream-like state, hearing going fuzzy, head spinning.

Then Snow started groaning, breath hitching in his throat as he got closer to the edge, you could hear it. Your brain began melting, and you didn’t have time to think through what would happen after he was finished and he saw you. If you were going to be hanged for this, it would be worth it, you thought, as his hips started to jerk even faster and his groans turned into strained whispers. Fuck and that’s it and good girl, and finally, as his eyes squeezed shut even tighter, and he came into her mouth with a strangled cry, you heard a name.

Yours.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth #ugh i haven't written in so long and this is my first time writing for this fandom go easy on me pls

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moonchild9350 · 2 months ago

Text

Rainy Days, Love, and You

Summary: you and your two boyfriends hearts beat as one, a love you are reminded of daily. Pairing: idol Felix x fab reader x idol Han Genre: established relationship au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: soft dom & sub dynamics, sensual touch, handjob, oral sex (f & m receiving), mxm action, p in v penetration, creampie (don't), nipply play, cum shot, spanking, teasing, orgasm denial, just three people in love lol Notes: wanted to do another jilix fic and here it is. i love the sunshine twins so much omg

If you enjoyed, please consider a like, reblog, or comment as if keeps me motivated! ♡

Divider by @cafekitsune

It was a rainy day, the rain pelting the windows as the wind blew, bolts of lightening flashing after every few rumbles of thunder. You were cuddled up with your boyfriend on the couch, watching your usual show. You snuggled closer to Jisung, his arm draped across your shoulder holding you close to his body.

You felt comfort in the smell of his hoodie, the smell of him surrounding you in a wave of vanilla. There was silence between you two, but you didn’t mind, as you were comfortable no matter the situation with him. You knew he had a long day in the studio today as he was preparing hard with the others for their comeback. Your other boyfriend Felix has yet to come home, spending a late night rehearsing.

Time went by, the candles dwindled and rain continued to pound on the windows. Your eyes were set on the tv, until they drifted towards Jisung’s bulge which was prominent through his grey sweats he had changed into.

You licked your lips and decided to tease him as you settled your hand on his thigh. When he didn’t move, you slowly rubbed across the fabric, your hand gently sliding up, down, up, down, trying not to give yourself away.

As time passed, your hand crept higher as you kept up the rhythmic motion. You smirked as you heard Jisung’s breath hitch, a sign he was finally on to you.

You withdrew your hand and rested it on his belly, your fingers splayed out, as it rose and fell with each breath. You let time pass, your focus going back to the tv show.

Deeming enough time as gone by, you began your assault once more, your hand rubbing his leg softly and gently. You watched as Jisung’s cock slowly filled within his sweat pants, the tent getting larger as time went on.

You tiptoed your fingers up to his bulge, your hand gripping the hard member firmly, giving it a squeeze. Jisung jolted within his seat, as he yelped at the pleasure that shot through him.

“Babe, what are you doing?” He whined, his hand that was draped across your shoulder wrapping tighter around you to ground himself.

“Shhh,” you replied, “let me take care of you Sungie,” you cooed, as you stroked his cock through the fabric.

You continued to watch tv as you palyed his length, your ears trained to his little whimpers as you teased him, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. Smirking, you lifted yourself up, looking your boyfriend in the eyes as you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

Reaching for his waistband, you pulled his pants down, Jisung lifting his hips to help you in your quest. His cock slapped up against his belly once freed from its confines, his balls sitting heavy. You wrapped your hands around his cock, your thumb pressing into his slit, gathering the pre-cum that was oozing from the tip.

You slowly stroked his shaft, smiling as you listened to him whimper, his heart shaped lips in a pout.

“You’re so cute Sungie,” you cooed, eyeing your boyfriend as you continued to stroke him.

With your other hand, you fondled his balls, which were heavy in your grasp. Jisung’s breath stuttered, his eyes fluttering close at the pleasure he was feeling from your hands.

You grinned as you gripped the bottom of his shaft, before lowering your head and taking his tip into your mouth, the man above you letting out a moan at the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him.

You hollowed out your cheeks and began to bob your head, sliding his thick cock within your mouth until the head hit the back of your throat. You repeated the motion again and again, listening to Jisung whimper and moan above you. He tried not to thrash around beneath you, instead opting to grasp at the threads of the couch with one hand, the other buried in your hair, guiding you up and down his cock.

Lewd sounds filled the room, as your spit dribbled down his member. You let out a moan around his cock, your pussy clenching as Jisung bucked his hips upwards into your mouth, the tip ramming into your throat causing you to gag.

“Mmm sorry... sorry babe, but your mouth…jesus!” Jisung breathed out.

You moaned as Jisung pulled you off his cock, spit dribbling down your chin, as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Need to be inside you baby,” he said as he threw you onto the couch.

You landed with a huff, your eyes wide as he grasped the waistband of your panties and hastily pulled them down, tossing them across the room.

"Damn, Sungie. Someone'e eager," you chuckled as you noticed they landed right on the corner of the tv.

"Don't tease me," he groaned as he grabbed your thighs and spread them apart hurriedly.

He gripped the base of his cock, sliding it between your puffy folds before pushing into your pussy in a fluid motion.

Jisung adjusted himself and then began thrusting his hips against yours, his heavy balls hitting against your ass, little whimpers falling from his mouth with each thrust.

“So wet and warm,” he whined, his eyes trained on his cock sliding in and out of your hole, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he noticed the white ring that was forming around his cock.

“Harder Sungie!” You mewled as you grasped your legs, spreading them wider.

You tossed your head back, before looking back between your legs as you steadily moaned. Jisung was drilling into you hard and fast, the boy chasing after his high. You wanted to get him there, more than anything, that's for sure.

“Lemme ride you Sungie, please?” You begged, looking into his eyes as he continued to pound his hips into yours.

Jisung nodded his head and withdrew his cock, scrambling to sit down so you could ride him. Once settled, he patted his thighs, and smiled at you, his big boba eyes shining.

“Your throne awaits my queen,” he teased, chuckling as you rolled your eyes at his quip.

You scooted over to your lover, deciding to play along with his antics.

“Well let me just sit down then, keep that throne warm.”

You grabbed his cock, stroking the appendage a few times before aligning it with your entrance and sinking down. Jisung grasped your hips with a loud groan, his eyes trained on your pussy as you took him to the hilt. You took a few breaths, adjusting to the new angle.

Jisung reached down to remove your shirt, tossing it to the side before grasping your tits within each hand, his fingers playing with your nipples. His mouth attached to the hardened nubs, as he moaned, sucking and kissing your tits, his tongue darting out to lick over the nipple.

You ran your fingers through his curly hair, as you continued to keep his cock warm, little pants falling from your lips at the pleasurable sensation that traveled down to your core.

You could feel your arousal dripping, coating Jisung’s cock, the fluid pooling at the base, coating the hairs there with your cream. You closed your eyes to savor the feeling of his lips on your tits, that is until you felt a jolt of pain, as his hands slapped your ass, the flesh jiggling at the impact.

Your eyes snapped open in shock, your orbs searching his, your eyebrow cocked at his boldness. He withdrew his mouth from your nipple, squeezing the flesh of your ass before slapping it again.

“Bounce baby,” Jisung said, his eyes hazy as they gazed upon yours. “Ride my cock.”

“Mmm Sungie is a little bold today,” you purred, your fingers trailing down his chest until you reached his nipple, your fingers reaching out to pinch the nub hard. Jisung yelped at the sensation, his eyes screwed up in pain and pleasure.

“Mm sorry,” he whimpered, his chest heaving with each breath.

You watched as his eyes dilated, the orbs filled with lust. You cocked your eyebrow, staring at your boyfriend. You decided to tease him further, clenching your pussy around his length, his cock twitching within you. You did it again and again, watching Jisung twitch beneath you, as he whined and whimpered, his bottom lip quivering at the pleasure.

“Please…please baby, ride me. I’ll make you feel good, promise,” he begged with hooded eyes.

You did an experimental roll of your hips, his cock dragging against your walls, smiling as he moaned beneath you. Lifting your hips, your slid off his cock before slamming down again, taking all of him within you. Soon, the sound of skin hitting skin radiated throughout the room as you rode Jisung hard and fast.

You moans matched his as pleasure jolted to your core, causing more of your slick to leak out. You fingers drifted through his hair, your eyes on his face as he let out incoherent sounds, as he switched between moans and trying to annunciate words.

You gripped the strands of his hair before yanking his head back, baring his neck to you as he screamed, his hands gripping your ass harder as you continued to ride him. You licked the expanse of his neck before sucking the skin, alternating between bites and soothing the area with your tongue.

You were lost in Jisung, missing the sound of the door closing announcing the entrance of Felix, your other boyfriend. You looked up as he chuckled, his eyes taking in the scene in front of him.

Felix felt his cock twitch at the sight of the two of you. His eyes roamed your body, as you bounced on Jisung’s dick, watched your tits bounce with each movement, your head tossed back in pleasure. He saw Jisung too, his face scrunched up as he guided your hips over his cock.

Felix could only imagine how Jisung felt, his cock buried deep within your wet pussy, all snug and warm.

“Having some fun without me hmm,” Felix said, his voice husky as he eyed you two.

You turned to look at your other lover, smiling as you beckoned him over. Felix sauntered over to you, a smirk on his face.

You puckered your lips at him, silently asking for a kiss. Felix leaned down and pressed his soft lips against yours, as you sighed, happy to have both of your boyfriends here.

Jisung whined, watching the two of you make out. He didn’t stop but instead mumbled incoherent words here and there, accented with his moans.

You separated from Felix and tsked, annoyed at the disturbance. You stilled your hips, as you glared at Jisung. His eyes snapped open at your lack of movement, his cock twitching in need.

“Why…why’d you stopped?” He whined, as he gripped your hips harder, attempting to get you to move.

You listened to him whine and moan, mumbling something that sounded like he needed to cum. His incessant whining was getting repetitive. Looking at Felix you smirked, the boy grinning like he could read your mind.

“Lix, Sungie won’t shut up. Shut him up for me will you?” You cooed.

“Gladly love,” Felix said as he reached for his sweats, pulling them down hurriedly.

You watched as he rid himself of his boxers, his hard cock angry and red. He walked over to Jisung, whose eyes were big, his gaze going back and forth between you two.

“Up love,” Felix said, helping you get up off Jisung’s cock.

Jisung whined at your departure, a little pout forming on his face.

“Up Ji.” Felix commanded.

Jisung scrambled away, not wanting to disobey. You layed down on the couch, your fingers reaching down to play with your clit. You grinned as you watched Jisung scoot over to you, standing over you, his ass in your face so he could face Felix.

He helped you tuck your legs to your chest presenting your pussy to the two men in front of you. Jisung grasped his cock and sunk within your little hole once more, as he cried at the pleasure and being within your warmth again.

He began to fuck your hole, his whimpers picking up again, that is until Felix brought his cock to his lips, waiting for Jisung to part them. Jisung opened his mouth and took Felix’s cock, his moans and whimpers muffled effectively.

Felix began to fuck Jisung’s mouth as he groaned, his head tossing back in pleasure. Jisung ground his hips into yours, his cock penetrating your walls, the sound of your wet pussy echoing in the room. Felix held onto Jisung’s head as he thrusted his hips into Jisung’s mouth, moans leaving his mouth as he gagged around his length.

You couldn’t see Jisung’s face but you watched Felix’s, smiling as you saw the effect Jisung’s warm, wet mouth had on him. It wasn’t long before Jisung abandoned fucking you, his mind occupied on sucking Felix’s cock. You didn’t mind however, the sight of your lover falling apart turning you on even more.

You knew Jisung was close, his whimpers becoming louder with each passing second. You made eye contact with Felix who smirked and increased his pace, his cock rapidly sliding in and out of Jisung's mouth, strings of Jisung's spit dripping down his chin and onto the couch.

Your hands drifted to Jisung’s ass, giving it a squeeze. Your finger found its way to his puckered hole, letting out a chuckle as Jisung moaned as you pressed the digit against it. You teased the rim, before slowly pushing your finger in, Jisung letting out a loud moan as he came, his body shaking above you and within Felix’s grasp. You let out a moan as you felt his warm cum coating your walls, making a mess as his cum leaked out of your pussy.

Felix helped Jisung down, having him sit down on the empty spot on the couch. He placed a kiss on his lips before rounding back to you as he stroked his cock. You smiled at your other lover, spreading your legs wider beckoning him over.

“Let’s take care of you hmm, love?” Felix cooed, pressing his cock at your entrance.

You moaned at the pressure, your eyes focused on Felix’s.

“Ready for my cock? I’ve missed you all day.” Felix hummed as he stroked his cock within your folds, teasing your entrance and clit.

“Need you Lixie,” you whined, gripping your thighs to present yourself better for him. “Give me your cock baby.”

At your pleas, Felix pushed his cock within you as he groaned, pleasure running through him as you sucked him in. He snapped his hips into yours, slow but hard, his eyes trained on your entrance and the cream that was coating him.

“Fuck me Lix.” You cooed, moaning as he began to thrust faster, the glide made easy with how wet you were.

Your moans mixed with Felix’s as he fucked you, his cock hitting deep within with each thrust. Your hands came up to play with your tits, as they bounced with the force of Felix’s hips snapping into yours.

Felix slapped your hands away and cupped your tits, massaging the flesh as he rutted against you. His fingers ghosted over your nipples, teasing you, grunting as you clenched around him. He brushed his fingers over the buds, flicking them every now and then, smiling as you mewled out in pleasure.

You cradled his head as he bent down, attaching his lips to your nipple, sucking the bud within his plush lips. You felt warmth build up within you, spurred on by Felix’s cock dragging within your walls and the attention he was giving your tits.

You were a mess, your loud moans permeating the room, your slick pouring out of your pussy as Felix withdrew his cock, just for it to be pushed back in as his hips rested against yours.

“Mm close, Lixie, don’t stop,” you whimpered your eyes on his as he leaned back so he could focus on getting you to your high.

You smiled as Jisung appeared next to you, his cock hard and leaking once more, as he pressed a kiss to your lips. He shuffled further down, until he came to your dripping pussy, his tongue licking his lips at the sight.

You yelped as he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking the engorged bud within his lips. You could barely lay still as your legs thrashed at the attention your pussy was receiving from the two boys.

Loud moans rang out from all three of you, as Felix continued to fuck you, his pleasure heightened at the occasional prodding of Jisung’s tongue on his cock. You looked at the two men pleasuring you, Felix’s cock gliding in and out of you, and Jisung’s head between your legs.

The whole scene was a mess, your pussy talking with how wet it was. Your slick was dripping out of your pussy, your walls clamping down on Felix as you felt the warmth spread throughout your core, your belly spasming with each shock.

“Shit!” You screamed as Jisung bit down on your clit before sucking it again, his tongue lashing out to soothe the pain. “Do it again Sungie, make me proud baby.”

Jisung whined against your pussy, his teeth lightly clamping down on your clit before he sucked the bud between his candy lips. His hand sped up on his cock as he stroked it, the sound of your wet pussy bullying his ears.

Felix was close, his high rapidly approaching at watching his lover pleasure you. He sped up his thrusts, your pussy squelching with the force, causing all three of you to moan.

“Don’t stop, Sungie,” Felix grunted, “suck that clit, get our baby there.”

Jisung nodded, increasing his efforts of teasing your clit. Felix loved your pussy. He loved how it was greedy, ready for him at any time. How you creamed just with the sight of his cock. He loved watching the tip disappear within your hole, stretching you out to take him.

He loved the sounds you made as your pussy got wetter as he fucked you, as your warm walls sucked him in, nice and snug. The sight below him was a mess, your pussy coated with cream, the thick white fluid steadily dripping out, mixed with Jisung’s spit as he pleasured your clit.

Your breaths became shallow, your chest heaving as your climax built within you, the last bite on your clit from Jisung tipping you over the edge. You whined out as the pleasure traveled through you, your pussy spasming around Felix’s cock, holding him in.

“Shit love, gonna cum, gonna fill you up m'k?” Felix groaned.

He gripped Jisung’s hair and pulled him up, Jisung whining at the lack of your clit not in his mouth anymore. Felix gripped Jisung’s cock and began to jerk him off, his hand moving fast over the hard appendage.

The sound of erratic breathing filled the room as both boys tipped over the edge, Felix’s cum filling your pussy to the brim and Jisung’s cum splattering your pussy and coating Felix’s cock as his thrusts slowed down.

There was a moment of silence as all three of you breathed, your chests heaving basking in the glow of your orgasms. Felix was the first to recover, as he withdrew his cock from your pussy, his cum spilling out and dripping down your ass.

Jisung licked his lips and looked at you, a smile gracing his face. You hadn’t noticed Felix had left to grab some towels until you felt him gently clean your bottom half, gathering up the sticky cum that was starting to dry on your skin.

Once done, he tossed the towel away and picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared bedroom. You three all snuggled under the covers, you laying between both of your boyfriends. They wrapped their arms around you, holding you close, peppering sweet kisses all over your face and neck.

You giggled at their actions, their kisses tickling you. You didn’t mind however, but snuggled closer to them, making sure you were skin to skin. You three laid there in silence, listening to the rain pelt the windows, the occasional thunder ringing out and shaking the frame.

It was a quiet, tender moment, one you yearned for on a daily basis, but one you only encountered occasionally due to busy schedules. However, here all three of you were, under one roof, under one blanket, a tangle of arms and legs and beating hearts.

“I love you,” you whispered, not wanting to break the silence. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were not find not one but two people who could love you so much.

“I love you too,” they both responded, their voices equally as quiet in the silence of the room.

As you all laid in bed, surrounded by the sound of rain, you were reminded just how much your heart beat for your boyfriends, not wanting it to ever end.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

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