#not that long either but i feel like it's good enough to help get a feel for it

[leonsgfpost]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You let your boyfriend cum inside you for the first time.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: DI!Leon (or Leon RE4) x fem!reader, creampie, unprotected sex, wild Leon, slight mention of breeding perversion.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: It's something that crossed my mind, this man has me bad 🙏🏻

Leon feels like he's in heaven, dizzy, sweaty and with his eyes closed, seeing colors. Like he's really floating, and only because he's ramming your pretty pussy with need. Her pretty pussy. His hands are on either side of your head, he only needs his body to pin you against the sweaty sheets. His lunges jolt your body enough to shake the bed.

"Look at you, my pretty girl taking it so good..." He said between breathless gasps, and you opened your clouded eyes so you could look up at him, grinning dumbly at his words. But he wasn't even looking at you, he was watching your pussy open up around his wet cock. Yeah, Leon was getting kind of nasty.

And though he loved your pussy, and every inch of you. And what you were giving him, like the time you took the condom off for the first time and let him fuck you raw. Every time he sank into you, wetly and slowly he felt alive. But he couldn't help but want more, lust for more.

Leon is a greedy man.

You had not yet given him the honor of filling your pussy, of leaving you creamy and plump inside. He would never do anything against your word, so every time he got close he would come out and cum hard on your belly or your thighs. Even though it felt good, I knew it would feel better to be able to bury his dick and let it explode inside you. But he couldn't do it, not yet.

"Lee, Leon-!" you moaned loudly, dizzy in the ecstasy of his cock exploring every delicious corner of your insides. His head slapping your cervix, his hips slapping yours until your skin was red. It was definitely Leon's favorite sight, you beneath him with a sweaty face, your tits bouncing happily and your hips rising to chase his awkwardly.

"Baby, can I-?" he asked, burying his face in your neck letting out gasps that were starting to morph into animalistic moans. From the way his voice was becoming shaky and his hips were stumbling in their rhythm, he was so close.

"Please, let me... Let me do it." Leon's pride shifted to the side, that strong man taking on nuclear monsters was no match for your pussy. He could die if you denied him the paradise between your legs. And you know it.

"What?" you asked, in the midst of overwhelming pleasure and the sensation of your orgasm beginning to form, ready to burst as easily as a bubble.

"Inside, I want to do it Inside. A baby, let's make a baby-" His words came out in babbles, in between wet kisses he planted on your neck trying to distract himself from how his cock jerked inside you, begging for the release he was holding back. And when you were as dumb as he was, it only took his fingers around your quivering clit for you to quickly agree.

"I want to hear you, I need it, I..." He whispered, moving his kisses up your jaw and keeping the motion of his fingers on your clit, listening to you moan desperately beneath him.

"C-Cum inside, I want it inside." You affirmed in that sweet tone you used only for him. Mixed with long, euphoric moans, arching your back. Your center burned around him, his onslaught creating the most lascivious sounds you'd ever heard. Those words ignited something inside him. Finally, finally his little fantasy was coming true.

He pulled away a little, grabbing the back of your thighs to lift them and let out a grunt as he felt your walls tighten further around him. He was losing his mind. His hips moving in a wild, animalistic rhythm.

"I'm going to fill you up so good, baby." It sounded like a promise, you knew he was going to do it. His blunt nails digging into your skin, trying to hold on to something as he felt his dick quivering inside your walls, closing around his length.

"Come on, come on... Come for me, I want to feel you." His husky, raw tone of pure need finally brought you to orgasm. Your velvety walls clenched around him tightly, as if you wanted to extricate his dick. His breath caught as he felt your tight grip as if you were begging to be filled silly.

But relax, that's what he was going to do.

"God, baby-ah, you're tight me so good." He murmured dropping his head back, closing his eyes and relaxing his jaw with pleasure. His hips quivered, causing his to lose his rhythm.

You would look so pretty, your swollen pussy and his cum spurting out of your hole that was a portal to paradise. The image and the feeling of your wet walls around him was what drove him to madness.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck-!" he moaned over and over, ramming with each curse until potent, strong strands of semen exploded inside you, filling you with as much eagerness as he had wanted. He never would have imagined it would feel so good, so alive. His onslaught gradually slowed to a stop, panting heavily as his cock gave you all he had to offer. His eyes lowered to your pussy, withdrawing only to glowering at his work of art. His mess.

His fingers moved down to open the swollen lips of your pussy and watch his thick cum seep out of your weeping hole. He smirked, lifting his eyes finally.

"This pretty pussy deserves another load, Honey." He stated, beginning to rub his semi-hard cock up and down your quivering slit. Little did you know that you aroused the most primal, possessive side of the man who looked at you as if he wanted to devour you.

Because, oh, Leon is a really greedy man.

Let me know if you liked it, and please ignore if you see any mistakes 🫶🏻💕

(💌) bye, bye !

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a werewolf Gojo and Geto with a female reader? A smut would be nice if possible but if you have any other ideas I’m down to ready anything!! I hope you have an amazing day/night! 😊

NOW PLAYING

ALL BARK, NO BITE

Satoru & Suguru have been fighting over you for a long time, but maybe finally, they’ll learn how to share

Starring: Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto

Warnings! fem!reader, minor a/b/o dynamics, wolf!gojo & wolf!geto, scenting, oral (f receiving), cucking, knotting, etc.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Gojo & Geto were like brothers. They like the same movies, the same clothes, the same girl. & they fought over everything. You didn’t know if it was a friend thing or a wolf thing; probably just a Gojo & Geto thing. It was always a competition. Who could run faster, who could jump higher, who could fuck you better? & it’s not that you wanted to string either of them along, per se, but how could you possibly choose between one or the other. 

You weren’t entirely unfamiliar with hybrids, but not being one yourself, it was hard to say whether their animalistic rivalry was because of that side of them, or if their friendship was just that extreme. You know that they’re good friends, probably smart enough to not let some girl come in between that, but it’s a Freudian slip that has you doubting yourself. 

They’d been trying to pin you down for weeks. Who was better, which one did you want? Almost jokingly, you laughed & shrugged & said, “What if I want you both?” 

The words had barely left your mouth when you saw their eyes flash with something primal. A low growl rumbled from Geto's chest, while Gojo's lips curled into a predatory smirk. The air in the room suddenly felt charged, electric. Then Gojo's lips curled into that infuriating smirk of his. “Both, huh? Think you can handle us?”

Geto circled behind you, his breath hot on your neck. ‘You think you can take us both? Together?” They moved in perfect sync, circling you like predators. This was uncharted territory, dangerous & thrilling all at once. 

Your heart raced as their presence surrounded you, making you feel small & vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated. You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. "I…I don't know. Maybe? That isn’t really what I m-m–”

“Aww, c’mon, don’t back down now, sweetheart. Can’t say somethin’ like that n’then take it back,” Geto purs, slipping a hand up your shirt, nosing at the back of your ear, down your neck, as Gojo grips your chin, tilting your head up to his. Your breath catches in your throat as Gojo's piercing blue eyes lock onto yours. His thumb traces your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine, & you look…scared, prey-like, & Gojo’s almost embarrassed to admit how hard that makes him. "We're just getting started," Gojo murmurs, his voice low & husky, & Geto hums in agreement, hands wandering farther & farther, one of his thumbs hooking the waistband of your pants down slowly & the other pushing at your bra. Gojo herding the both of you to the bed. 

"Don't worry," Geto whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "We'll take good care of you." Your eyes flicker closed as Gojo leans in, his lips barely grazing yours. "Just relax," he says softly. "Let us make you feel good." & he says it with such determination that you can’t hardly object. 

With a gentle tug, he removes your sticky panties, revealing a clear trail of your arousal. As he admires your glistening folds & teases your sensitive clit with his fingers, Satoru is positioned in front of you by Suguru. Completely under Suguru's control, Satoru follows his every direction without hesitation, but he can’t help sticking his face in your pretty cunt, tongue lapping at your mess, nosing bumping against your clit, whining at how good you taste. Suguru guides his fingers back to your dripping entrance & then has Satoru suck them clean. Satoru moans loudly at the taste of you, clearly enjoying every moment of it.

Suguru takes a rough grip of Satoru's leaking cock & rubs it against your slick clit, eliciting moans from both of you. He guides Satoru's hips & helps him ease into your tight heat. Whimpering starts to escape Satoru's lips as he struggles to process the overwhelming sensations. But he doesn't tell Suguru to stop, so he continues on. You also struggle with the new feeling of being filled by something so large, gripping onto the pillows for dear life. Suguru sets a slow pace, guiding Satoru in & out of you with his hands. He pauses to let Satoru feel you fully before resuming the steady rhythm. Your walls clench around him tightly, causing him to cry out & seek comfort in the crook of your neck. Despite the tears streaming down his face, it's an incredibly arousing sight for both you & Suguru. He encourages Satoru to make you feel good too, & he responds by licking your sensitive neck, & you don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it, it’s so instinctual for him. You don’t have much room in your head for big thoughts, but faintly you’re surprised that Geto isn’t the one fucking you. & yet, he’s still in complete control of the situation. 

His hips start moving faster, creating loud wet sounds as your bodies collide with each thrust. Suddenly, you let out a cry & tell Suguru that you feel strange, like your stomach is aching. He reassures you & urges you to let go. 

Geto's intense stare traced every curve & movement of your body. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke. "You're doing so well," he praised, his voice husky, "such a good girl for us." His dirty words only added to the rush of arousal between your legs, causing you to become even more soaked with desire.

Your body trembles as you approach the edge, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of Satoru inside you & Suguru's commanding presence. Geto's words push you even closer, his praise igniting something primal within you.

"That's it," Geto murmurs encouragingly. "Let it all go. Show us how good we make you feel.” & you’re sure you’ll never get used to Gojo’s knot; it’s not just the overwhelming size, but that way it holds you in place, the loss of all friction, just being entirely full of him & there’s nothing to relieve the immensity of it. 

With a cry, you finally tumble over the precipice. Waves of pleasure crash over you as your orgasm washes through your body. Your walls clench rhythmically around Satoru, pulling him deeper. He whimpers against your neck, his hips stuttering as he struggles to hold back his own release.

Suguru's hand tangles in Satoru's hair, tugging his head back. "Not yet," he orders firmly. "Make her come again first."

At first, you’d been worried you were driving a wedge between Gojo & Geto’s friendship, but you can put that worry to rest because clearly, you’re what’s holding them together. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

first of all: thank you anon!!! I love getting requests & I actually had something written like this for Kinktober & ended up not posting it, so I'm glad I could use it! I hope you're having a great day too!!! <3

secondly: I don't think I have the whole hybrid/omegaverse thing on lock yet, it's just no my strong suit, so I'm sorry if this was not great or if parts of it didn't make sense

third: cuck!geto.........that's all <3

LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3

[p4ranormaluv]

BEWITCHED — 재윤, 제이

jake and jay are the complete opposite of vampire stereotypes. they aren't sex gods or evil devils like the people warn, they've never drank human blood or even lost their virginity. in reality, jake and jay are two loser best friends who touch themselves more than they've touched a woman's hand and they drink animal's blood. when they find out you've been blamed for their actions, the townspeople accusing you of witchcraft and sacrificing livestock, the two men try their best to help prove your innocence. in exchange you offer them your blood.

PAIRING: vampire!jake x f!reader x vampire!jay

GENRE: smut, romance, angst, dark fantasy au

CONTENTS: vague historical setting, strangers to poly relationship (no mlm), lovey dovey petnames (fight me), mutual love bombing? (in a good way), getting frisky in a corn maze, witches & trials, brief talk of animal sacrifices/death, biting & blood drinking, hanging, past death/side character death (with graphic desc.), one pride and preduduce reference, ft. jungwon, not proofread (it’s way too long i’m sorry)

SMUT WARNINGS: under the cut!

WC: 22.7k

NOTE: there’s title markers to help you find your spot from where you last read! if you like this work please tell me <3 i realize this might not be everyone’s type of fic, but i’m hoping there’ll be a few others who enjoy it. lengthy feedback is welcome as always :)

SMUT WARNINGS: two smut scenes (but they’re long af), virgin!jayke, sub!jayke & dom!reader (maybe kinda switchy at times), bedroom titles (puppy, angel, miss, etc), jayke get turned on by drinking your blood, voyeurism (jake watches you bathe), masturbation, jay is the goodest boy, jake is a pervy cuck in disguise as a good boy, oral sex, piv, creampie (vamps can’t procreate), breeding kink, praise/light degradation, making love but it’s filthy, double penetration, a little crying, breast stim, jayke eat you out at the same time

COPYRIGHT OF @/P4RANORMALUV. PLAGIARISM NOT TOLERATED.

GUIDED BY FLAMES;

jake and jay are the complete opposite of vampire stereotypes. they aren’t sex gods or evil devils like the people warn. they’ve never drank human blood or even lost their virginity.

in reality, jake and jay are two loser best friends who touch themselves more than they’ve touched a woman’s hand and they drink animal blood.

“what the hell did this thing eat? it tastes awful.” jay complains after retracting his fangs from the creature’s body.

“it’s a goat, jay. most likely leftover slop.” jake answers as he watches in disgust at how jay’s mouth latches onto the goat’s furry flesh.

“would you stop staring at me like that?”

“you look like a heathen.” jake smirks at his own teasing, satisfied at the way jay’s eyes roll in annoyance, continuing to feed.

“i don’t understand how you can just drink it straight from the source. isn’t it disgusting?”

“i was starving. i didn’t want to wait for us to drain the carcass.” jay answers after drinking the creature dry, tossing it in a nearby wooden crate after.

later on the two boys will take the crate and descend into the forest to burn the body and destroy any evidence. but for now they go back inside the ‘abandoned’ cathedral— in which they’ve lived in for years. it’s the one place they feel safe— far away enough from the town line to keep them hidden, but close enough for them to walk by foot whenever they're due for another ‘blood run’.

of course they try their best to catch the wild animals that live in the forest before stealing the townspeople’s livestock, but they’re no huntsmen. the best the boys usually can catch is a hare or squirrel— and unfortunately, they’re not very filling.

“hey,” jake taps jay’s shoulder as they enter the high ceiling room they converted into a sitting area. there's a scarlet lounge couch, side table, pin cushion chair, as well as a few decorative items that they either found or were left behind.

jay turns to look skeptically at jake, the latter gesturing to his own teeth with a single pointed finger.

“you’ve got a little something here.”

“where?” jay asks with concern, immediately trying to scratch out whatever remains between his fangs.

“i think it’s…fur.” jake says with over dramatics, leaning in with faux concern and promptly bursting into a fit of giggles after.

jay realizes his sarcasm, nudging him firmly on the shoulder. “damn you.” he bites with only minor annoyance, most of it only for show as he lays down over the scarlet couch.

“we already are.” jake smirks, moving to sit in the chair he often occupies, picking up a book he’s just reached the middle mark of.

“clever.” jay replies flatly, the room falling into silence as the older shuts his eyes and the latter begins reading silently.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

you’re out of breath, the cold night air causing your throat and chest to ache as you continue running into unknown darkness. you can no longer see the orange glow of the townspeople’s flaming torches— and the echo of their angry shouts grow fainter.

due to having no light before you other than the stars above, you trip over a fallen stick that snaps under your weight, causing you to harshly hit the ground. you huff— mostly by annoyance rather than the minor pain.

you can’t believe you’ve gone from being a…well— you were about to think ‘a well respected citizen’, but the townspeople hardly even treated you humanely. your father was a bastard child, so you were doomed from the start. your low status only added as reason for their distaste towards you— in the majority of the townspeople’s minds at least.

regardless, you never would have imagined they would accuse you of witchcraft— but here you are, groveling in the dirt as you run away from a mob of men and women with pitchforks and torches, wanting to capture you and put you on trial. (which are known to be unfathomably unfair.)

picking up your skirts to prevent further tripping, you stand up with a bothered pinch to your brow and continue forward.

you’re not sure what you’re going to do, but you certainly can’t return back to town right now— it would be certain death.

so you keep walking…and walking.

you’re not sure how much time has passed, but you’re certain the moon has risen higher in the sky than when you first started your trek.

then you see the faint glow of something in the distance.

your eyes narrow— stilling as you worry it may be the flame of someone’s torch, hunting you down. but the light is coming from the opposite direction of town— and by the looks of it, you’re deep into the thickest part of the forest at this point. it can’t be anyone seeking to throw a noose around your neck, surely.

so with hopeful energy in your steps, you walk closer to the light.

it leads you to an old cathedral that appears to have three levels. the faint glow of candle light comes from the second story’s window on the left. without thinking there’s any reason to knock, or that whoever’s up there would be able to hear you, you grab the large door's eccentric knob and open it.

it’s creaks, the sound making a chill run down your spine as the place is completely dark other than the moonlight pouring through the windows— though it’s not enough light for you to be able to see properly.

you take a few hesitant, fearful steps, thinking of how you’re in a very vulnerable position right now. someone could easily grab and hurt you— or do whatever they wanted, especially while you’re out in the middle of a forest. your father would surely have a heart attack from nerves. but you realize with a heavy heart that he must be feeling that way right now, wondering where his daughter is— or if you’ve been captured in prison, waiting to be put to trail.

you’re broken out of your depressing thoughts when you spot a lit candle in its holder down a long hall.

still walking slowly (and you’re not sure if it’s because you feel like you’re trespassing or from the fear of your own footsteps echoing eerily around you), you reach the single legged table that the candle sets upon, picking it up and holding it in front of you, revealing a staircase at the end of the hall.

you feel as though an eternity has passed when you finally reach the third floor. your overly cautious steps and halting every few seconds to peer into the darkness whenever you think you see or hear something is probably what’s to blame for it.

the weight of dread grows heavy in your stomach as you worry you’ll have to open every door in this endless hallway to find which room the light is coming from, but luckily, one of the doors is cracked, and you know it must be the room you’re looking for as the flickering light of candle flame reflects against the floor.

with a heart you feel is about to beat out of your chest, you slowly open the door.

“…hello?”

you’re brows furrow in confusion to find the room completely empty, yet appearing as though someone was just here?

there’s at least ten candles, all lit and resting on various surfaces, the white wax dripping down its base and golden stands as they’re clearly well used. a rug is on the dark hardwood floors, a large bookshelf with a plethora of old books, and two choices of where to sit.

you walk closer to one of the chairs, head tilting as you look at the book that lays on its seat cushion.

‘first folio’ it reads, ‘by william shakespeare’.

its blood red cover is stark against the dark fabric of the chair, the book laying spine up as if it was dropped haphazardly…

your stomach suddenly drops as you feel the powerful sensation of fear— like the impending feeling of doom is about to dig its claws into you.

you turn to run out of the room when you feel strong arms wrapping around yours, some sort of sack being thrown over your head.

you scream— blood curdling with the unmistakable sound of terror as you can hardly even muster the strength to struggle against the strong hold restricting your limbs and waist.

“please, please! let me go!”

you hear the sound of another body other than the one behind you, the second person sounding like they’re standing in front of you.

“please, don’t hurt me.” you start to sob, voice weak as you almost slump in your capture’s arms.

“why are you here?” the person— a man— in front of you asks, his tone deep and dangerous, like a warning.

“i— i…” you’re unsure of how to gather your words, especially in your panic and between tearful gasps of breath.

you decide to simply settle for the truth, you’re rather sure you won’t come out of this situation alive either way.

“i was ran out of town.”

the body against your back stiffens just a smidgen, but you don’t miss it.

“they— they think i’m a witch.” you sniffle, eyes watering again as you release this is how you will die, in darkness with a broken heart— ran out of town with the reputation of a poor seamstress and supposed witch. your father won’t ever know what’s become of you, forced to live the rest of his lonely life with the memory of your late mother and missing daughter.

“…are you?” the voice asks again, and you almost wonder if it’s even the same person with how much softer it sounds.

“no, no, i’m— i’m not.”

“and it’s…just you? do you have any weapons?”

“no.” you answer simply, voice cracking with desperation.

a few beats of silence pass, yet you feel as though something is happening between the two people.

“unhand her.”

“what! she could—“

“look at her, jay! she can do us no harm.”

another beat of silence, then a sigh right behind your head before the sack is pulled off and your arms are freed.

you blink hard to adjust your eyes and diminish your onslaught of tears. the blurry body of the man in front of you, and the second one who moves away from behind you to stand beside the other, slowly focus into view.

“who…who are you?” you breathe, trying to catch the breath you’ve lost from fright as you look at the two young men in front of you.

one’s eyes carry the softness of pity in them as he looks at you, longer, brown hair peeking out from the back of his neck just slightly as he stands with his hands holding themselves in front of him. he’s dressed in nice attire, a black waist coat with matching pants and boots, a white long sleeve underneath.

the second man was dressed similarly, but completely black— just like his shorter cut hair and bottomless eyes that bore into you. he reminded you of a snake— seconds away from striking.

and yet, even in your terror you could recognize that they were undeniably handsome.

“who are you is the better question.” the raven haired bites, tone harsh and slightly raised in volume.

“stop it.” the brunet interjects with scolding eyes, putting a hand to the other’s arms that are crossed defensively.

when he looks to you, his eyes soften immediately, tone gentle— as though he’s talking to a frightened animal. and you can’t really blame him for that. your legs are still trembling. you wonder if they can tell even with your long dress.

“i’m terribly sorry, miss. we really didn’t intend to scare you—“

“why do they think you to be a witch?” the other interrupts, voice demanding. the softer sighs, pinching is brow in annoyance.

“the…the livestock. more and more are vanishing. the townspeople think the animals are being used for sacrifices.”

the sharper one’s eyes widen for a moment, you seemingly catching him of kilter a bit. the other looks like he’s about to be downright sick.

“they…the animals?” he mumbles in shock, staring at you.

“what reasons do they have to think it’s you?” the dark one asks, slightly less demanding this time but still remaining stern.

“what reasons do they have for anyone?” you respond immediately, snapping slightly as your usual gumption rears its head at the mention of the subject that fills you with so much rage and sorrow. “they hung my own mother because of a baseless accusation of witchcraft— a nine year old girl was the most recent hanging.”

the raven haired swallows, adam’s apple bobbing as his hard exterior dwindles more and more.

he turns to his anxious looking companion, the two of them sharing a look that somehow looks just as dumbfounded as it does all-knowing.

“what are we to do?” the dark one (what did the other man call him earlier— jay?) asks, sounding completely lost as the other just shakes his head in disbelief.

“um— perhaps…uh,” jay stutters, turning between looking at you and the other. “give us a few moments to…discuss.”

you stare at him, standing stalk still— because what else can you do except go along with their every whim, you’re the one at a disadvantage here.

jay grabs the other’s arm, leading him out of the room before he turns to you once more, right before he shuts the door.

“and…please don’t try and jump out the window, alright?” he genuinely warns.

you hear the click of the knob, and you sigh as you now know he’s just locked you inside.

you stay in your spot, tears stopping but the tingle of your previous and slightly remaining fear lingering on your arms. but after what feels like a handful of minutes pass, you move to sit down on the chase couch. you haven’t had the chance to think about how tired you are from all the emotional exhaustion and running until your body meets the softness of the couch.

before you know it, your body drifts down to lower against the cushions, and you drift off to sleep.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

you’re slowly roused from the fog of sleep as you feel a poke to your arm.

“is she cattle? don’t prod her like that.”

“well i don’t know what to do! i’ve never woken a sleeping woman before, jake!”

you take a deep inhale as your eyes blink open, mind starting to become clearer as you sit up and rub your eyes before looking at the men in front of you.

“…hi again, miss.” the brunet smiles, awkward but charmingly as you’re slightly surprised at the flutter in your stomach it causes you.

“i’d like to apologize, for—…” the other begins, seeming to have a hard time finding his words.

finally he starts over, holding his hand out to you with a slight bow. he looks up at you through his eyebrows, a slight curve to his lips that’s somewhat tilted, akin to a humble smirk.

“my names jay. i’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”

“likewise.” you reply, giving him your hand as he places the ghost of a kiss to it, showing his regret.

you’re a little unsure of how you should act. first they capture you, and now they’re acting gentlemanly?

“i’m y/n.”

“my names jake, miss y/n.” the barely shorter smiles, keeping a noticeable distance to you, especially compared to jay.

“so…” the other starts, looking back at jake for a reaffirming glance before holding your gaze. “we’ve come to an agreement. we’re going to help you.”

you falter, staring at them clearly confused. “i…why would you help me?”

“because we’re responsible for your misfortunes, miss.” jake replies, eyes flickering up to yours for a fleeting moment before looking down at his feet. he seems to be the shyer one out of the two.

“how…how are you…”

your eyes rake over their appearances one more time as you take in your situation.

you’re in the middle of a forest, in an old cathedral that these two men seem to live in. they’re young, seemingly healthy despite their slightly pale appearance. and aside from this well lit room, they seem to be entirely satisfied to wander around in the darkened halls.

and they’re saying they’re responsible…for….

your eyes flash with recognition that the two men are able to recognize, waiting and trying to prepare themselves for any reaction you may have.

“are you…vampires?”

“yes.” jay answers.

“but don’t be afraid!” jake adds, raising his hands in front of him as if to show his innocence. “we haven’t been…we’re not bad! and we’re not going to hurt you!”

“we don’t drink human blood.” jay continues calmly, a stark contrast to his friend. “that’s why the animals have been disappearing, we feed off of them instead.”

“you haven’t fed off of humans…ever?”

“only once, when we first turned. and that’s only because we’d gone mad from the transition.” jay promises with steady eyes. you look to jake, who almost flinches at your gaze, cheeks flaring into a pink blush as he shakes his head in confirmation.

you pause, deep in your head as you’re processing the information.

and your conclusion is— well, what else do you have to lose?

“so you’ll really help me?”

“we promise, lady y/n. we feel awful that it’s our fault you’re in this position— that anyone’s in this position at all, really.” jay assures. “we think it’d be a good idea to wait a good while though, until the villagers aren’t searching for you anymore?”

you nod your head in agreement, jay smiling and looking surprisingly sweet, completely unlike the stone cold man that interrogated you previously.

“great. and by that time, me and jake are hoping we’ll have devised a good enough plan. it might not sound like much but it’s the best we can offer.”

“no, that’s— this is a great help. thank you.”

“….and i’m terribly sorry i put that bag over your head!” jake bursts out awkwardly, the deeply sorry yet out of place confession making you gradually descend from a small giggle to full on laughter, jay joining you as well as he looks over at jake amusedly.

“let’s just forget about that. we’re starting fresh.” you smile.

the flustered boy is only able to respond with another nod, still unable to hold eye contact for very long.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

living with jay and jake is quaint, but there’s an undeniable charm to it— to them.

they bicker playfully often, but the moment they realize you’re watching with amused eyes or soft laughter, they pull apart as though embarrassed, brushing off their attire with blushed cheeks.

jay is ever the nurturer, always asking if you’re feeling well, physically and mentally. he’s the one who helped you adjust your sleeping schedule to their night time life— since they can’t walk in the sun. every time you woke, he’d be right there, a tray of delicious food that he prepared himself just for you.

“where did you learn to cook so skillfully? i must say, i didn’t expect a vampire to know how to prepare food so well when you don’t even eat yourself.” you asked while munching on a biscuit glazed in honey and butter.

jay smiled, the kind that has been making your stomach flounder like a fish lately— eyes sparkling and cheeks rising, a stark contrast to the handsome yet sharp expression his face usually rests in.

“i enjoyed cooking often before i turned.” he’d answered simply, leaving you to wonder about the life the both of them led before they became creatures cursed to the dark shadows of the night.

jake is akin to a skittish, stray puppy. it’s quite clear that he wants to speak to you more comfortably and spend time with you as jay does, but the moment you direct your attention to him he spirals into a stuttering mess with shaking pupils.

nevertheless, he’s incredibly polite.

you were balancing on a latter that was connected to the bookshelf, trying your hardest to grab a specific book that remained just out of your reach. you heard someone entering the room and turned your head out of instinct to see who it was, and you lost your footing.

your high pitched yelp and the squeak of shoes against hardwood was all that you can remember as you fell, before you fell into the surprisingly strong arms of—

“jake?”

“m— miss! you shouldn’t be on the latter when wearing such long of skirts!” he scolded, tone ever so gentle and sweet even as he did so.

“i’m sorry.” you apologized softly, feeling as though it was only appropriate given how close his face was to yours. jake suddenly became aware of this as you caught his eyes glancing down to your lips, before a raging red burned the tips of his ears, quickly spreading to his cheeks.

he put you down gently, but in a hurry— avoiding your gaze once again as he offered: “j— just tell me what you wish to read and i’ll get it for you, miss.”

irrefutably, they were kind hearted men— which is why it saddened you when they had to leave for hours on end almost every other day, struggling to catch anything significant in the forest, since they learned of the witch trails and stopped taking animals from the town.

you’ve thought heavily about it in the two weeks you’ve been here, and secretly you’ve collected and have been reading any book you could find in their vast collection about vampires.

just a few hours into the night and you see jay and jake looking out the window, judging by the rise of the moon what time it is.

you know they’re about to turn around to tell you they’re about to change and go on the hunt, and so you interrupt them before either of them can take a breath.

“i don’t want you to go hunting anymore.” you state almost a little too urgently, the two men turning to you with a look as though you’d grown two heads.

“but…my lady, we have to.” jay explains, almost sounding as though he’s asking a question with how confused he is over your outburst.

“what if you didn’t have to…” you begin, unsure of how to say it.

“what do you mean?” jake asks, a rare moment where he’s fully staring at you, bashfulness forgotten as you stand before them.

“i…i could give you my blood.”

jay’s eyes widen impossibly, and jake becomes so flustered he hides his face in his hands and turns his back to you in favor of staring out the window.

“y/n! but— you…it’s…”

jay’s eyes unfocus as his gaze is almost aimless, staring at nothing as you can tell he’s consumed by his thoughts.

then he clears his throat and shakes his head, your interest sparked as it’s rare for even him to be bashful— and if you didn’t know his expressions so well you would have missed it.

“it’s not…to be taken lightly, giving a vampire your blood. especially since…”

“since you haven’t fed off a human before, besides that one time. i know.” you begin, knowledgeable from your vampiric studying.

a vampire drinking blood, especially from a willing human— it’s intimate, and can sometimes be somewhat of a sexual act. especially when jay and jake have been deprived of human blood for such a long time, it’s more likely to get…intense. and you can’t lie, the thought thrills you— but that’s not even your intention. your purpose is pure. why have the boys go out every night to struggle to fill their appetite when you’re right here?

“i’m aware of it all, jay. and i still want to help you…if you want to have me.”

jake abruptly makes a choked sound that descends into a cough from your words, that he knows you didn’t mean to sound so…suggestive. and yet he finds himself having to talk himself down, desperate to calm the growing hardness between his legs before it’s noticeable.

jay stares at you with wide black eyes that can hold every spark of light in his irises, biting his lip and subsequently flashing his sharpened fangs at you. your heart stirs.

“are you…sure?”

“entirely, jay. i’ve thought of this for a while.”

“and you’re aware that it…will hurt, a bit.”

you nod your head, a small smile that’s meant to be soothing on your lips.

“i’m not one to be overly sensitive to pain.”

“…alright,” jay whispers, growing closer to stand before you, the tips of his shoes just beneath your skirts.

your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation, slowly pulling the sleeve of your bodice down to further reveal your neck and the junction of your shoulder, staring up at jay the entire time.

the raven haired man shudders a breath, unable to control where his gaze lands anymore as he looks from your face to the smooth skin of your clavicle, and how the short ruffled hem of your blouse frames it enticingly. your breathing becomes faster as jay finally closes the small remaining distance, hands holding your waist as he pulls you against him. his nose brushes against your cheek, and you can hear him taking a slow inhale.

“you smell good…like you’ll taste sweet.” he mutters almost to himself, but you feel your body reacting to his words and his breath fanning against your neck, large hands gripping your waist more firmly.

“your heart is beating faster.” jay wonders, leaning further down towards the junction of your shoulder. “are you ready, my lady?”

“yes, jay. go ahead…bite me.”

his mouth bares as he’s not slow in sinking his teeth into your flesh, making the pain not as bad— but it’s still enough to make you gasp, a burning hurt in your shoulder that turns into an odd yet tingly sensation as jay starts to suck.

you sigh as you get used to the feeling, jay’s lips pressing into your skin. his hands move in favor to wrap his arms entirely around your waist, and you find yourself having to surpass a moan at his chest being pressed against yours, and how his sucking spreads that tingly— growingly pleasurable weak sensation all over your body.

“jake,” you breathily call out, wanting the boy to get a taste before you’ll have to stop.

the brunet slowly turns around, big brown eyes glossy in the moonlight as they roam over your form that’s captured in jay’s hold. your dress has lowered even more, breasts peeking out from the top as your face is contorted into an almost pleasurable expression.

you look absolutely breathtaking— and delectable. which is maybe why jake hardly even notices how his feet take a step forward.

still, he’s hesitant, and you find yourself cooing to him with one arm outstretched.

“come, jakey. it’s okay. get your fill.”

you don’t miss the earnest whimper that he lets out before he’s suddenly in front of you, legs trembling as he stumbles to his knees beneath you. his hands are desperate and eager as he grabs your forearm, bringing himself closer until his teeth are piercing into your veins.

you can’t help the pained sound you let out, jake much more messy and uncoordinated with how he bites you, and him sucking right at your veins make that pleasurable feeling grow ten fold. your cunt pulses strongly between your legs, nipples hardening as you feel like everything becomes more sensitive.

your moan is crude, but the boys only react with throaty whines of their own as they press and suck their plush lips to your skin more desperately. all control has practically been lost between the three of you all at once, your thighs growing weaker as jake presses himself to your leg, one hand wrapping around it from beneath your dress while the other still holds your arm with bruising strength that you’re sure is unconscious. jake’s legs squeeze around your ankle, and that’s when you’re made aware of the distinct hardness his cock has turned. you find your foot pushing against him without thinking, the movement so slight— and yet jake his moaning out from the sensation.

one of jay’s hands creeps up from your waist to cup your jaw, tilting you more to the side before his fingers feel downward, over the veins of your neck.

“y— y/n,” he exhales shakily, retracting his teeth out of your shoulder to lick at the blood that drips down.

you let out a moaned sigh that sounds too weak for jay’s liking. he tightens his hold of you in his arms, finding himself having to keep you upright as you lose the strength to stand. his eyes look into yours, which are hazy and half lidded.

though he loves how undeniably arousing you look like this, he knows you need a break.

“jake..jake, stop.”

jake is still mindlessly sucking away at your blood, and when jay sees him grind his hips down onto your shoe, he takes a handful of his hair and roughly yanks him off of you.

“jake! that’s enough!”

your eyes start to repetitively blink until they’re shut, leaning all of your weight into jay’s arms as you drift into a deep slumber.

the tone of your relationship changes after that, and the three of you become lovers.

it was bound to happen, you realize now— with how sweet jay and jake are, and the sexual tension that keeps building between you with every blood feeding you give them.

jake is still easily flustered, but incredibly clingy and affectionate now. and jay fares no better, a protective hand always having to be pressed to the small of your back or around your waist.

now when they bicker they don’t stop until you’re having to scold them or pull them apart, and the boys only seem to enjoy how you fuss over them. when you wake you are still greeted with a tray of jay’s delicious food, but now instead of having jay simply sit by your side, jay and jake are both in your bed, cuddled up to your side or brushing their fingers through your hair.

the passion of your affections are growing, and so is your lust— and you can only wonder when the rope holding you all back will snap.

after four weeks of hiding out in their cathedral, jay and jake finally begin a conversation about how to prevent your own hanging.

“quite frankly, why don’t we just flee to another town?” jake asks as you all sit in the common area. you’re sprawled across jay’s lounge sofa, the raven haired man having you between his legs while jake sits at his usual spot in his chair.

“i can’t leave my father, and he won’t abandon the farm. it’s not much but…it’s his whole livelihood. and it’s where he lived with mother…”

jay and jake share a look, the older running a comforting hand through your hair as he speaks to you in a comforting tone.

“then we won’t flee, dearest. we’ll just have to find another way.”

“do you have any witnesses of your recent doings before they accused you?” jake asks after a quiet moment of deep thinking.

you ponder over his words, having trouble with how jay’s arm squeezes possessively around your waist. jake’s lips push into a pout as his brows furrow, beginning to feel jealous at the way you let jay be all over you— while he’s across just watching.

“yes. in fact, my week was full with appointments.” you recall.

you have a small seamstress shop to help ends meet, and though it’s quaint, it’s what you’re known for— which can come as a help with your current predicament.

“i think i had a customer every day. with the cold weather fast approaching, everyone wants to get their clothes patched up or new ones made.”

“perfect! so we’ll just talk to them and ask them to give their account.” jay says cheerily, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, causing you to giggle.

jake practically scoffs, abruptly standing to march over and kneel, wrapping his arms around your middle and pressing his face into your stomach.

“my tuurrn.” he whines, rubbing his nose against you and making you ticklish.

“alright, alright, puppy. come here.” you laugh, jake eagerly hopping up to lay himself in your lap.

he lets out a content sigh as your fingers massage at his scalp, jay chuckling under his breath.

“but how will you help me gather witnesses when you can’t walk in the sun?”

“we’ll just have to go at night, lovely. it may raise suspicion but…what more can we do?”

jay assumes the plan has ended at that. the boys won’t let you go alone to town in fear you’ll end up dead, so in their minds the plan is to run into town at night, gathering as many testimonials as they can over the span of a few days while hiding out in your father’s barn when the sun's out. but unbeknownst to the two men— you just won’t have it. the plan is more than a little iffy. the townspeople have been an edge from the witching trails and missing livestock for a while now. people are staying awake at night— watching out for anything that seems odd. with this plan, not only will you be hung, but jay and jake too.

so as you sit there, squeezed between your two overly affectionate lovers who you’ve only just begun the pleasure of knowing— you devise a secret plan of your own.

you’ll just have to wait for the perfect moment to put it into action.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

the night is a foggy one, leaving your skin uncomfortably clammy.

jay prepares you a bath in a tin basin, left outside at the back of the church from where they would commence baptismals.

“make sure to let it cool.” warns jay as he pours the boiling water he prepared into the tub. “it shouldn’t take long with how cold it is.”

“thank you, angel.” you smile, jay coming closer to receive a peck on the cheek.

“don’t take too long to bathe, my lady. it’s safe, but i don’t like the thought of you being out here by yourself.”

you assure him you’ll be quick, and with one last look jay is opening the back door and going back inside, leaving you to the misty night.

it takes a bit for you to untie your corset and layers of skirts, hanging each article of clothing on the short stair rail of the back door until you’re stripped bare. the basin is billowing with steam, but when you prick your finger into the water it’s just the right temperature.

careful to not fall as you step in, you sink yourself into the water with a relaxed sigh.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

jake walks down the long corridor, heeding jay’s words to check on you as his anxiousness only seems to grow with every minute that passes, jake feeling the same way.

which is possibly why he forgets the fact that you are naked until he opens the door enough to crack, and gets an eyeful of your gloriously bare body, and he’s suddenly struck dumb— standing completely still and unable to look away.

you look as beautiful and dangerous as a siren, soaking in the steaming tub with skin that shines in the moonlight. your breasts are barely concealed beneath the water, one long leg peaking out and balancing along the basin’s edge. your hair is damp as you run your fingers through it, and jake doesn’t miss how the movement pushes your breasts together.

you are the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on— and jake hasn’t seen many naked women, but after seeing you he doesn’t desire to see anymore, as none could ever compare.

jake swallows dryly. enough seconds have passed for him to have at least one cognitive thought, which is that it’s entirely ungentlmenly to be watching a naked woman bathe— even if that naked woman is his lover— without her permission.

but he just…can’t.

against his better judgment and beliefs, jake continues watching you through the crack of the door, ignoring how his cock twitches to life at the sight of you.

after running your hands through your hair a bit, getting all the tangles out, you lean over the tub to grab a bar of soap. jake luckily is quick enough to press a hand to his mouth before his gasp escapes when you sit up straighter in the tub, revealing the entirety of your breasts and perked nipples to his perverted eyes. as you start to rub the soap over your body, bubbly suds run down your body and between the swells of your chest, making jake grow in jealousy as he wishes he had that honor.

his ‘second brain’, painfully hard and throbbing— is getting impossible to ignore. so jake lets one hand move down to grope at himself, softly jerking it through his pants.

he’s never felt such intense pleasure while touching himself as he does right now, and he knows it’s because he has a gorgeous woman with a heavenly body to watch as he imagines it was you touching his cock, calling him a good boy as you’d allow him to squeeze and suck at your tits.

jake has to bite down on his bottom lip to conceal a shuddered breath, and when you put down the soap to lift both your hands and start massaging the suds into the skin of your breasts, the poor boy almost chokes.

“puppy…i know you’re here.”

jake’s eyes widen as he stands stock-still, unable to even remove his hand from his crotch as he feels like prey standing in front of a lioness.

you turn your head to look at him, a sultry smirk on your lips that has jake whimpering.

you let out a small giggle at the sound and how sensitive the boy must be to get this worked up over just seeing you bathe. with one hand, you bid him closer.

“come, darling. you must be so hard, hm?”

jake feels as though he’s walking on clouds as he approaches the basin, standing at the side of it— humiliated at the realization that with you sitting down, the bulge in his pants is right at your eye level. he’s unable to look away from your gaze. he doesn’t want to— but he does try to shield his visual arousal with two hands over his crotch.

you tut disapprovingly, leaning relaxed into the tub like you have all the power and assurance in the world— and with jake, you do.

“don’t hide from me, puppy. show me.”

the term of endearment you often call him has a whole new effect in the situation jake finds himself in, letting out a little whine as he removes his hands to instead grip them behind his back. his lips pout and eyes shine, innocently round as you can tell he’s trying to win your forgiveness. but he’ll soon find out you aren’t mad in the slightest.

“aw, that looks so painful.”

jake nods his head, a now ploring look in his eyes that you have to resist smiling at in your cockiness.

“want me to help you, darling?”

“y— yes please, miss.”

your hand raises to cup his manhood, delighted to find he's more than a handful big. jake exhales shakily, body wracking in a sudden shiver before he apologizes for it under his breath. you’re so incredibly endeared by his shy sensitivity, wondering how a boy so sweet could have been touching himself to your naked body— thinking he was doing it in secret, just moments ago.

“naughty boy, jerking your cock when you thought i didn’t know.”

“i’m— i’m sorry, y/n. i— i thought—“

“that i wouldn’t find out? that’s even naughtier, puppy.”

jake moans longly at your sultry scolding, cheeks blushing at the sound he’s unfamiliar with making so passionately. and as he looks down, seeing his gorgeous lover palming his cock while her breasts are pressed enticingly against the inner walls of the tub— he finds himself babbling all his shameful thoughts.

“i’m so sorry, miss. you just— you looked so pretty. i just couldn’t control myself, couldn’t stop.”

you coo, continuing to move your hand over his covered shaft more firmly as he squirms.

“poor puppy. so helpless. but tell me this, jakey. if i hadn’t caught you, would you have kept touching yourself until you came?”

“m— miss!” jake exclaims, eyes squeezing shut as your hand only moves faster, his breath gaining speed along with it.

“oh, don’t act all scandalized. i know what a pervert you are now, jakey. tell me.”

“i— i—“ the boy struggles to speak, finding himself in this very moment close to coming.

but before anything can proceed further, another voice echoes into the night.

“what in god’s name is taking the both of you so long!”

jay busts through the door rather unceremoniously (unlike jake), but his eyes widen and he is suddenly silenced in a similar way.

he only stares for a moment, eyes flitting over your naked body— pausing at your exposed breasts and hip bone peeking above the water, before shielding your modesty with his own hands over his eyes.

“m— my lady, i’m so sor—“

“it’s okay, angel. you can look.”

jay’s body flinches, hesitant as though he cannot believe his ears. after a few seconds more, he finally slowly lowers his hands.

“…dearest?” he asks, question incomplete, but you’re sure you know what he’s wondering.

“jakey here was being a pervert and watching me bathe.” you tell honestly, your hand removing from jake’s cock to his utter dismay, feeling his climax slip through his fingers. (or rather, yours.)

“bastard.” jay mutters under his breath, but jake catches it as the open land causes the noise to echo, snapping his head to scoff at jay offendedly.

“don’t act so righteous. you would have done the same.”

“i quite literally just proved i wouldn’t!” jay defends himself, and before an argument can break out between the two, you’re raising yourself from the tub.

“m…miss? where are you going?”

you take languid steps towards the door, purposely swinging your hips to each side just enough to make the boys drool while at the same time trying not to seem like you’re meaning to tempt them. it works, because when you peer over your shoulder they’re not looking at your face.

“to my bedchamber, where i expect you both to follow me.”

the boys pause for only a moment, giving each other a wide eyed look before hurrying to catch up with you.

jay grabs your hanging clothing before you can, folding them neatly over his bent arm. you smile at his sweetness, slowly moving to cup his jaw and give him a kiss. jake watches it all with bated breath, how your naked breasts push up against jay’s suit as you whisper a ‘good boy’ in his flushed ear. jealousy and longing starts to simmer in his stomach, but the flutter of his own arousal is enough to sedate him.

the two men stay silent as they feel an eternity drags on while following closely behind you down the winding hallways, their eyes trained on your ass and the alluring way it sways when you move. the shadows and moonlight sticking to the contours of your spine make you look like a sort of enchanted being— which is humorous when you consider it’s really them who are the magical creatures. and you have them trailing behind you as though on a leash, listening to their enchantress’s every whim.

when you reach your bedroom jay hurries to open the door for you, and jake curses at himself for missing another opportunity of praise.

the three of you enter in, you bidding jay to set your clothes down over a chair before asking them to sit on the edge of your bed.

they both do so hesitantly, as though they still can’t believe what’s happening. here you stand completely naked, and yet they look like the utterly vulnerable ones. jay and jake both have their hands folded in their laps obediently, the bulges in their pants evident as they look up to you with adorably round and shining eyes.

you acknowledge the tenderness of the moment with a gentle hand to both of their thighs. if this continues, it will be your first time to bed together.

“do you both…want this?”

“yes.” the boys answer together.

they immediately become embarrassed, not only by speaking in unison but also by their obvious eagerness, glancing at each other before avoiding eye contact completely.

you giggle, raising your hands to ruin your fingers through each of their scalp’s affectionately. jake sighs out in what practically sounds like relief, jay having a ghost of a smile as his eyes fall shut.

your hand starts to creep down jay’s chest, the path you're taking to his cock evidently clear to the man as he stops you with a gentle yet urgent grasp around your wrist.

“i— my lady…we…”

“what is it, angel?” you ask, brows pinching slightly in concern as jay looks down at your touching hands, rather than your face.

jake clears his throat nervously, cheeks a bright red when your gaze falls to his.

“we haven’t ever…laid with a woman before.”

your disbelief is apparent, eyes widening and mouth opening just slightly as you gawk at the two absolutely stunning men in front of you. how on earth could they have ever kept their chastity? they must have had plenty of women throwing themselves at them.

“we were virgins when we turned, and after that we just…” jay begins, jake finishing for him yet again.

“we were always on the run, terrified of the monsters we had become. we spent years together practically running away from our own cursed existence, just trying to keep away from humans completely in fear that we’d hurt someone.”

“after a few years we realized we could manage control of ourselves pretty well. every adult in our lives or book we read as humans talked of vampires as bloodthirsty killers, so it’s what we had assumed.”

your heart sinks, having to will your eyes not to water hearing them describe such a sad existence up until now.

“you’re— you’re not.” you insisted breathily, making sure to look firmly into both of the boys eyes. “you’re wonderful, unlike any men i’ve ever met— unlike anyone at all really.”

they smile, eyes twinkling, and it touches a part so deeply in your heart that you’re sure hasn’t ever been reached before. and yet they manage to do so easily— without even meaning to.

“anyway…” jay begins softly. “losing our virginity was the last thing on our minds.”

“speak for yourself.” jake mutters with a little sass. “i for one am tired of how well i’ve gotten to know my own fist.”

you laugh abruptly, keeping eye contact with jake as your hand continues its track to cup over jay’s manhood, causing his thighs to twitch a little farther open and an almost undetectable sound to come from his throat.

“well, i’m afraid you’ll have to wait a little longer.” you smirk, slowly lowering to your knees between jay’s legs— the raven’s eyes watching in absolute rapt attention at your gorgeous form kneeling in front of him.

“what? miss—“

“you had your turn when you got a private little peep show. now go sit on that chair and watch, hm?”

jake’s eyes roam, from your groping hand motions over jay’s cock to the way the man throws his head back in ecstasy at just the minor stimulation alone. biting his lip so hard you wonder if it might bleed, jake takes a few steps over to sit at the chair that’s placed at the perfect spot to get a full view of your ass as you’re looking over jay’s lap.

“good boy.” you whisper to him, jake whimpering at the praise— the way you don’t even look at him when you say it somehow rilling him up even more. “if you keep acting good i’ll give you a special treat, puppy.”

“ok, miss. s— so, i can touch myself?”

“yes.” you answer, and then bring your full attention to jay.

his eyes are squeezed shut as the simple action of your palm over his cock brings him to absolute bliss. the bulge in his pants is…generous. your mouth waters to have it in your mouth, but you want to play with him a bit more.

“feels good, angel?”

“yes— yes, y/n. your hands are heavenly.”

you bite down on your smirk, jay opening his eyes and shuddering at the expression on your face that makes his skin burn even hotter.

“well, it will feel even better when my hands are actually on your cock. can i take off your pants, darling?”

he nods eagerly, eyes almost sparkling amidst the black of them in excitement.

you begin to unbutton his pants, glancing up at him again and speaking soft and sweet, trying to take extra care because it’s his first time— but also in efforts to return the gentleness he always treats you with. “could you help me by taking off your upper garments?”

he nods again, rushing all too much to unfasten his black and charcoal gray suit vest, fingers clumsy and unsuccessful in their haste.

you coo, stopping your original task to clasp both your hands around one of his, sitting up a little straighter so you’re drawn closer to his face.

“there’s no need to rush my dark angel, we have all night.”

“yes…sorry, my lady.” jay whispers, appearing flustered as he stares down.

you nudge his nose with yours to get him to look at you again, smiling at him affectionately when he does.

“it’s alright, gorgeous. just let me take the time to make you feel good.”

he sucks the bottom of his lip in his mouth with the ghost of a nod, trying but failing to not glance down at your own pretty mouth.

you grant him his unspoken wish, pressing your lips to his, eventually falling into a slow and sensual dance with every kiss. your fingers make good work at his vest, pulling away from him when you unfasten the last button. you return back to your original task of removing his pants, jay obediently lifting his hips as you pull them off, his hardened length springing free. the mushroom tip is a soft red, average length with a prominent vein running up the shaft that makes you want to run your tongue along its path.

jay’s hesitant groan is what makes your eyes flick up to his, only to be distracted by his chest that is now completely bare. he’s strong…unsurprisingly, defined arms and a torso hardened by muscle making your heart beat faster.

“you’re staring…” jay almost whines, voice textured as it wavers from embarrassment.

“sorry.” you murmur, almost breathless yourself as you sit back on your feet, lowering your mouth nearer to his cock. “can’t help it.”

the touch of your tongue against his shaft is gentle, and yet jay makes a choked moan as you lick up his vein. your hand grasps around the base of it to keep it still as you begin kissing and flicking your tongue at his leaky tip, looking up into his eyes while doing so.

“f— fucking hell.” jay curses, losing more control as his pleasure begins to become more apparent in his voice, breathing out through his nose deeply.

you then swallow down all of his length into your wet, hot mouth, feeling him twitch against your tongue as he abruptly moans loudly.

you hear a high pitched whimper behind you that has you feeling cheeky, arching your back for the boy behind you as you bob your head on jay’s cock once.

“sh— shit.” jake shudders at the dirty yet gorgeous sight of your feminine hips and behind, not quite being able to see but knowing you have another man’s cock in your mouth. his hand tugs at his own with more speed than his previous languid groping, not wanting to release too soon as he has a feeling he’ll be waiting for a while. and oddly, he’s okay with that. the sight and sounds of you sucking off another man— his best friend no less— is more arousing than he could have ever expected.

“never had someone taste you before, angel?” you rhetorically ask, but jay’s shaking his head cutely anyway.

“n— no. feels…hah…your mouth feels so good on my c— cock.”

you continue bobbing your head, careful to not go too soft, but at a rhythm that’s not so slow that he feels you’re being too mean. you want this to last, which means you need to keep him from busting too soon. jay’s hands move to brush your hair behind your ears, away from your face. you feel your heart flutter from his affectionate consideration. even when he’s so aroused, he doesn’t forget about you.

you reward him by fondling his balls and swallowing around him tightly, the man’s hips bucking from the sensations, causing you to gag as his hands remove from your hair and hover before you— as though he wants to touch your body, needing something to anchor himself to, but is hesitant without your explicit permission.

“f— fuck, i’m sorry, my lady. didn’t— didn’t mean to, can’t control it.”

you hum around him as a way to say it’s okay. your hands wrap deliberately around his wrists, bringing his open palms to your breasts. his eyes are almost innocent in the way they widen at the first brush of your hardened nipples against his hands, hesitant yet eager in how he finally begins to fondle them in his hold.

“oh shit…”

the feeling of your plump breasts being squished between his kneading hands becomes an immediate addiction to jay. and judging by the shaken little exhale you breathe against his pelvis, it’s making you feel good too. which only makes jay feel even more pleasured, knowing that his hands are making your body feel good, the man groaning lowly as he gropes at your tits with more confidence.

jake lets out a particularly loud, needy whimper that reminds jay that he’s still in the room, looking over to the younger.

his entire cock is drenched in pre cum, the tip literally drooling in little strings that land on his thighs or the chair below. his entire body is stripped, jake having taken off his clothes sometime when neither of you were paying attention. his hips thrust into his hand desperately, stomach quivering and muscles taught by the intense sensations that wrack over his body.

jay would laugh at him if he weren’t breathing so heavily from your hands and mouth, but he does manage to tease jake a little further by pinching one of your nipples, causing you to moan out prettily as your thighs spread open a little more, your own cunt becoming needy to be touched.

when jake notices jay’s cocky yet blissed out smirk, he’s unable to even glare at him, his climax rapidly approaching.

“y/n, p— please can i cum?”

“not yet, pup.” you order to his dismay, the boy whining childishly, making you clench at the pretty sound.

“l— lovely?”

“hm?” you hum around jay, making eye contact with the man who’s cheeks are ruddy and lips bitten red. he looks absolutely ravished, and you’ve only had him in your mouth.

“can you go faster, please? wan’ want to come now.”

“yes, darling. fill my mouth, hm?”

right after you speak, you attach your lips around his cock again and don’t hold anything back— for the first time tonight.

a bead of your spit drips down his length as the raunchy sounds of your mouth bouncing up and down his cock, piercing your throat fills the room. jay cannot hold back his wanton moans, or help the way his hips hump along with the fast pace you’ve set. his hands move from your tits to cup your face,

fingers trembling against your skin.

“oh, oh dearest— i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”

his seed erupts from his tip and fills your mouth as you do your best to swallow it all down, jay’s girthy cock pumping against your lips as his juices just keep coming, his powerful orgasm lasting long.

he’s trembling when you finally pull off, yet his hands grab at your body frantically, pulling you up until his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss that has you moaning into his mouth. jay sucks on your tongue, the dirty taste of his cum staining it somehow only arousing him further as he sighs blissfully.

when the kiss is finally broken jays eyes are drooped sleepily, and you help him scoot up on your bed and lay him down.

“just rest here, my dark angel. i’m gonna take care of jakey now.” you whisper after kissing his cheek tenderly. jay only nods, humming out dreamily as you rise from the bed.

“miss, please.” jake begs as he watches you get down on your knees before him now, his eyes teary and hand still roughly fisting his cock, stopping just below the head every now and then to fend off his climax.

he watches the cruel smile that stretches your enchanting lips as you see what a mess he’s made of himself— just from watching the two of you.

“my, jakey. you really are such a dirty little puppy.” you wonder aloud before pushing off his hand to replace it with your own, jake moaning long and drawn out just from the simple touch— feeling as though he’s about to fall apart after practically having to edge himself this entire time.

you break the string of his precum connecting to his trembling thighs when you encase him in your mouth, not bothering going slow with him— as you know no matter what you do he'll be cumming down your throat quickly.

jake’s whimpers are high pitched and cracked from his sore throat, panting between each pathetic sound as you move your mouth up and down his cock just like jay’s.

jake’s cock is a little longer than jay’s with less girth, making you think of how good the older’s could stretch you open, while jake’s could kiss your cervix with each thrust.

you moan around him as you find yourself unable to keep your hands off of your own neglected clit, rubbing your slick around and around it just enough to give you some relief.

“kiss— wanna kiss you!” jake begs, voice so broken and desperate that you hurry to give him what he cries for, sitting up on your knees and letting him lick and drool into your mouth while your hand still rapidly fucks his cock.

the kiss is sloppy and can hardly be called a kiss, but the sensuality of it riles you up all the same, jake’s stuttering hips rutting into your hands while his brows furrow, eyes squeezing shut and sobbing as you feel him squirt all over your fist, white stripes shooting out everywhere, some even landing on your stomach or the bottom swell of your tits.

his cock never softens, even when you’re sure his orgasm has finished, he doesn’t even ask you to stop— he simply cries and trembles, never once shying away from your hand.

“lets go to the bed, puppy. come, that’s a good boy.”

“good. good boy.” jake mutters cutely to himself as he hardly can stand up on his own, clinging to you in a hug immediately after you help him upright. you have to walk him backwards to the mattress as you have no intentions of making him separate from you, your seizing heart wouldn’t allow it. he’s so adorable and needy.

“yes, jakey. you’re such a good boy. lay down, sweetheart.”

“yes, miss.” he squeaks obediently, lying against the sheets as you straddle his hips and admire him from above.

his thick tufts of hair splay out beautifully around his head, a few tear tracks glistening on his pink little cheeks while big brown eyes gaze up at you like you’re the one who’s hung the stars above, lighting up the darkness.

“i love you…” jake confesses in a tender whisper, that somehow still hits you with such power you audibly gasp.

“i’m sorry, but i do love you so terribly much, my beautiful girl. i just couldn’t keep from saying it.”

“i love you too.” jay adds after turning on his side, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his lips. “so much it makes my heart ache.”

you’re silent, unable to find words as jay rubs his thumb over your knuckles, and jake’s hands move up and down your sides soothingly.

“we know it’s soon, y/n. you don’t have to say it back—“

“i love you!” you exclaim, much more loudly and ungraceful compared to their adoring words encased with tender tones. but you mean it all the same, and it hits them just as powerfully.

“i’m— i’m in love with you both.”

jay is unable to keep himself from sitting up and hurriedly kissing your lips, hand grasping the nape of your neck while your mouths wetly smack together.

jay confesses his affections once more, uttered against your panting lips, before pulling away and letting you lower your body down against jake, wrapping him up in just as passionate of a kiss.

“my love, p— please put me inside. need to feel your warmth around me.”

“yes, puppy.” you grant, voice airy as you’re still catching your breath.

when your hand takes hold of his still hard and throbbing length, jake winces at the mix of slight pain— which only heightens his pleasure as he finds himself enjoying the overstimulation. when the tip breaches your sopping entrance jake’s entire body shivers, and you don’t even bother hiding the cocky smirk that lifts your lips, the boy whining in response as his cheeks blush so prettily.

choked little grunts and moans come from jake as you slowly slide down to the hilt, releasing a sigh of your own as you get used to the feeling of his long cock inside your cunt.

“fuck, s— so warm, n’tight.”

“are you alright, darling?” you check, brushing a delicate hand over his hot cheek.

his damp eyes look up to yours, staring at you as his brain needs more time to process your words when he’s distracted by the overwhelmingly good yet unfamiliar feeling of his cock being encased in such soft warmth. then he’s frantically nodding his head, as pleads fall from his swollen lips.

“m’okay. please move, y/n. i’ll be a good boy, please?”

you wrap your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips before you start riding your hips up and down his shaft. jake’s reaction is immediate, eyes squeezing shut and pushing back into the pillows as his large hands squeeze into the comforting flesh of your hips. you find your cunt needy from all the messing around and lack of attention before this, feeling a fluttery pressure in your stomach build and build quickly with each time jake’s cock impales your womb.

jake feels a natural sort of instinct as his pleasure grows, his hands moving to press your waist against his stomach, tilting the angle differently before he plants his feet firmly into the mattress and starts fucking up into your pussy.

you cry out as you feel new colors burst behind your eyelids, falling forward and subsequently burying jake into your breasts.

the man only groans as he wonders if he’s died a second death and has somehow made it to heaven, his shining slick lips mouthing over your tits until they brush over your bud and he sucks it inside. what he and jay lack in experience they more than make up for it with their passion and love for you. you’re not sure if only a small twinkle of moments have passed, or if it’s been an otherworldly eternity. all you know is that as jake flicks his eager, desperate tongue over your nipple, and one of his hands move to rub little patterns against your clit, you feel your climax quickly approaching.

“oh— good boy. good boy, jakey. k— keep doing that.”

“can i come inside of your pussy, miss? i— i—“

“yes!” you cry out desperately as your legs start to tremble, thanking every god out there that you studied so many vampiric literature, or you wouldn’t have known vampires can’t procreate.

“inside! inside me, p— please, puppy!”

“y— yes, miss.” jake whimpers sweetly, rutting into you deeper as he hugs your body against his. “puppy’s gonna give it to you, gonna fill your cunt up with my cum. sh— shit!”

the second you feel his warmth filling you, you’re seeing stars, reaching your high along with jake as he pants and kisses sloppily at your neck.

you collapse into his chest, your rib cages rising and falling in sync as you catch your breath.

you hear a swallowed moan, and turn your head to see jay’s eyes squeezed shut, jerking off his own cock furiously.

“don’t you dare waste that, jay.”

“w— what, my lady?” he flinches, hand immediately stopping its frantic movements as his eyes widen from being caught.

“i want you inside me too, love. come,” you beckon him, legs still laying open as you're laid against jake.

“b— but, if you’re tired—“

“nonsense. please come fuck me before i ride you myself.”

jay thickly swallows, evidently not expecting this outcome.

he moves somewhat unsurely, positioning himself behind you between the entanglement of your and jake’s legs. you lift yourself up on your knees, presenting yourself so lewdly to the man as a furious red burns up his neck. you giggle at him, jay looking away from your pussy that has jake’s cum leaking out of it to see that you’re peering at him over your shoulder— the image becoming a new core memory for jay, one he’s sure he’ll never forget in his eternal lifetime as his thoughts tell him you’re the perfect picture of pure beauty and raw sensualism.

jay slowly pushes into your wet heat, more of jake’s cum gushing out as his girthy shaft stretches you deliciously, a drawn moan escaping your lips.

“there you go, angel. fuck my cunt. y’fill me up so good.”

jay shudders at your praise, hips stuttering at the foreign pleasure as he finds his rhythm.

he doesn’t want this to end, but he knows he can’t last long inside your wet heat as you feel him twitch uncontrollably inside you— noticing how his eyes squeeze shut while his hands squeeze handfuls of your hips— holding himself back.

“let go, darling. pussy’s too good not to fill it, right?”

jay cums with groan at your words, rutting into you with reckless abandon— his sudden roughness causing your eyes to roll back as you reach release once more.

even as you both come down, neither man seems able to catch their breath— even as satisfied exhaustion weighs down their eyelids.

jay falls against your chest while jake cuddles into your sides wordlessly, and it’s not long until their breathing descends into a slow and deep pattern, feeling their chests sink and rise rhythmically against you.

you’re a little drained, but you clearly don’t feel as exhausted as the boys who just gave up their chastity to you. as you lay in their hold, you bask in the moonlight that pours out the window and think of how strongly you feel an emotional bond to these men— almost magical like in its force. you feel a calm, deep happiness, as though all the strings attaching you to your problems have been cut. and yet…

you can’t help but heed to that small voice in your head, which is hissing in urgency at you to get up— that now’s the perfect time to put your plan in action.

and you know that you must listen. even if it stings your heart a bit when you slowly rise from the bed and jake’s lips pout and jay’s brows furrow in their sleep. even when that strange force you’re probably just imagining in your mind aches for you to return. you simply try your best to ignore it, gathering your clothing, only putting enough layers to be somewhat presentable if you are caught— universe forbid.

as you’re making your quiet descent out of the cathedral, you grab what you’re fairly certain is jay’s cloak draped over his bedroom door knob. it’s black as night, perfect for what you’ll need it for— and you veil it over yourself quickly.

the heavy door is loud as you push it open, a low, haunting creek almost making you feel as though it’s warning you to turn back.

but you tell yourself you must as you step out into the dark and shut the door behind you, knowing this could be your only opportunity.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

WHO IS THE DEVIL;

the soft glow of dawn is like a bright, orange trim sewn into the horizon.

you don’t dally, hurrying to push open the cathedral’s large heavy doors once more.

the ridiculously long stairs are no match for you now as you hurry towards your bedchamber— hoping to find the boys still fast asleep in your sheets. despite your rush, you try to calm your heavy breathing from all that running you did through the woods and up the stairs, before twisting the door knob carefully.

what you find is an empty room, your heart quickening yet again in alarm as you step deeper into the room, your lovers clearly not tangled into the covers as you left them— and neither are the drapes as they were before. they’re drawn tightly shut, a candle near your bedside the only light.

“where the hell where you?” a quiet tone with sharp edges speaks behind you, causing you to jump and turn to see the two men standing behind you.

your initial gasp turns to a sigh of relief, your hand pressing to your chest.

“goodness, jay. you scared me. why must you both always sneak up behind me like that?”

your voice turns somewhat playful at the end, as you lightly giggle, the smile on your lips quickly falling when you see the expression on their faces.

jay’s jaw is tensed and his brows are tilted in anger, hardened eyes reminding you of the day you met— but the vulnerability is very obvious to spot for you now. he looks…hurt— you realize with a rapidly sinking stomach.

and jake’s eyes almost appear like he’d been crying.

“what…what happened?”

“what happened?” jay scoffs credulously, taking a step closer as he gestures to your form with the wave of his hands. “what happened to you, did you go outside? you’re wearing my cloak!”

“i—…i’m sorry, my love.”

jake’s face suddenly crumples as he looks down, akin to a wilted flower that’s finally falling apart.

your own eyes widen in alarm, beginning to walk closer to him to take him in your arms— if it weren’t for jay’s gentle yet commanding hand on your stomach, or how jake backs away into the corner, shoulders hunched as his arms wrap around himself in a hug.

“you left.” he croaks, and you feel somewhat confused as to how strong his reaction is to that fact— not expecting this emotional of a moment when you returned home— until he says his next words.

“you slept with us— with me, and— and told me you loved me, n’ then you leave?”

that sting you felt in your heart when you first left them now feels like someone’s crushing it in their hand, and it only gets worse as jake starts letting out little sniffles and hushed cries. your shocked face looks up to jay, who’s also avoiding your gaze as he turns his head from you.

“jake, jay— you didn’t…you didn't think i had abandoned you both, did you?”

a sniff, clearing of his throat, and then jay meets your eye contact, his angry resolve cracking ever so slightly with each second he has to look at you.

“we didn’t know what to think. we still don’t, y/n…”

without needing any more prompting, you hurry and plunge your hand into the deep pocket of jay’s cloak, soon fishing out the items as they jingle slightly when you pull them out, letting them hang from your outstretched hold.

“…a pendant?” jay utters, thoroughly confused.

jake rubs his eyes to look at the glittering silver in your hand, brown orbs irritated and glossy.

“they’re enchanted. you will be able to walk in the daytime when you wear them.”

neither of them speak, but jay’s sadness poorly hidden by anger has seemed to have left, though he still appears to be slow at processing the information you tell him as he comes closer and takes one of the necklaces from your hand. the pendent is too rounded to be heart-like in shape— but it’s close. a burnt orange crystal carved into a point hangs right beside the larger silver piece.

“what is this?” he asks softly, pointing to the charm.

“tigers eye.” you answer simply, hesitant in your movements as you silently ask for the necklace back with an open hand. jay gives it to you and you stand on your tiptoes to clasp the jewelry around his neck. you bite down the small grin that wants to curve your lips when jay bends his knees to help your height difference.

once you’re done, the man looks down at the way it rests against his chest, taking it into his hand again as the metal feels cool in his palm.

“you really couldn’t have just told us, love?”

“would you have let me?” you answer his question with another, and you know what jay’s response would be as he doesn’t even say anything back. instead, he sighs— trying to convert frustration despite how he moves to wrap you up in his arms, the both of you melting into the hug.

“the timing was horrid.”

“yes. i see that now.” you mean it apologetically, but jay chuckles at your words, putting a smile on your own face.

jake sniffling once again has the man releasing his hold on you, looking back at his friend before giving you encouraging eyes to go comfort the poor boy.

your steps are slow, like you're approaching a wounded animal.

“jakey?” you softly coo, the boy looking up at you with eyes that were starting to dry— now rapidly filling back up with crystal tears. the next thing you know he’s running into your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist as he cries against you.

“didn’t— didn’t intend to accuse you, b— but, i was so scared you weren’t coming back.”

“i’m so sorry, darling. i’d never leave either of you. i love you.”

your hand pets over his thick locks, jake reacting by fisting the fabric of your dress even tighter in his hold and nuzzling his nose against your neck— yet he still is restless. jay walks to stand behind you and removes the cloak from your shoulders, throwing it onto the bed.

“jay?”

“be still, love. i think this should help him.”

jay’s delicate fingers slip beneath the trim of your blouse, pulling it down until it’s past both of your shoulders. the bites you received last night are now exposed, along with a peek of your breasts. jake nuzzles into them with a puppy-ish whimper, but jay cups the back of his neck from behind you, pulling his head up until jake spots the bruised flesh he marked last night. with a small moan that has you pulsing in surprise, jake presses an opened mouth kiss over the bite, licking and sucking at your skin without actually sinking his teeth in. jay moves to do the same, leaning over your other shoulder and peppering his mark with more controlled pecks before he swipes his tongue over it as well.

you’re unable to contain an aroused shudder, especially when jay’s hand twists around your body to grope lewdly at your tits.

after a few torturously teasing minutes, jake seems to come back to his own mind, kissing up your neck, around your jaw, and finally to your lips— before pulling away.

“thank you.” he sighs, giving jay a meaningful eye as well when the older pulls away from your shoulder, forcing his hands away from your breasts.

you only give a breathless smile, taking the second necklace that’s been clenched between your now sweaty palm and clasping it around his neck as well.

“you need to keep them hidden. don’t let anyone see them, lest they grow suspicious.”

you receive easy agreeances as they slip the pendants under their clothes. jay moves to stand in front of you by jake’s side, while you cover your mouth as a long yawn forces its way out.

“tired, miss?” jake smiles fondly, eyes now having their usual happy twinkle as the boys have a little more energy than you, thanks to their nap and not traipsing through the woods as you did.

“yes. we need to change our sleep schedules now that you two won’t burn in the sun.”

“you’re right, my lady. but for now lay down. me and jake will likely be awake for a few more hours before we have the urge to sleep. we’ll wake you when it’s lunch time.” jay assures, helping you to the bed with a gentle hand.

“y/n?” jake begins, just after the older presses a kiss to your forehead and picks up his cloak, about to slip out. “where did..you get the necklaces?”

“uh, i…just don’t fret over it, puppy. we’re safer now because of it, yes?”

“r— right.” jake responds gently, jay following him as they bid you a good sleep once more before shutting the door.

the sounds of their footsteps echo down the hall, feeling strange as the sunrise gracing the sky filters through the windows, not having walked in the face of the sun in almost a century— and yet all they can think of is you.

“where…where do you think—“

“she’s a witch, jake.” jay insists with a fearful yet powerful tone that has goosebumps rising on jake’s flesh. “what other explanation is there?”

“but you— you don’t know that.”

“do you know the materials witches use for magic?” jay asks with a snappy tone, turning on his heel to look his best friend in the eyes.

“e— elements, rituals…um—“

“herbs.”

jay shoves the cloak into jake’s hands before impatiently lifting them up to jake’s nose.

“smell that?”

the brunet takes a sniff, the scent wafting off the material terribly blatant now that it’s been pointed out to him.

“basel and…cinnamon?”

“whatever it is, i don’t care. this was already scary when i thought we had to prove a human innocent— then we fell in love with her and it got even worse. and now we have to find a way to prove to these crazy villagers that y/n isn’t a witch when she truly is?”

jake hears the panic in jay’s voice that quickly becomes cracked, pulling away the man’s hands that harshly press into his temples to wrap him in a tight hug.

“i’m scared too, okay?” jake confesses, whispering softly as jay squeezes him back. “we just…we can’t let anything happen to her.”

“what if we turned her?” jay asks darkly intense, trembling.

“…we don’t have her permission to do that and it’s way too soon to ask— despite how badly i’d like to…besides, it wouldn’t keep her safe. if they hung her and she didn’t die then they’d know what she is and would drive a stake through her heart.”

jay lets out a trembled exhale, his head still aching as the visual of your limp body hung by the neck, head leaning unnaturally to the side as crimson blood drips from the cavity in your chest and down your clothes haunts his mind. jay tries his best to disperse the image, squeezing his eyes shut before blinking them open a few times.

“we can’t let that happen.”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

the day has finally come.

it’s been a month and a half since you first walked into the old cathedral and it will be the first time in years that jake and jay will be walking out of it, unsure of when they will return.

you leave at night, not wanting anyone to spot you when you appear like such strange travelers— having no luggage. it takes you about an hour and a half to reach town when walking so leisurely, which was at jay’s suggestion— the man fretting that it’s dark and if any of you were to trip and fall it could quickly become a detrimental situation.

your steps are now hurried and anxious as you walk through town, urging the boys to follow closely as you’re dying to get farther away from the heart of town and quickly to your father’s farm.

the next few minutes are spent with your hearts beating out of your chest, the boys looking over their shoulder for your sake— and you in worry for theirs. you avoid lampposts, duck past opened windows, and try to keep your footsteps as silent as possible— all while praying there’s no one staking it out for the night, waiting to catch you.

“boys,” you whisper excitedly, pointing to the dark silhouette of your old house. the three of you hurry up the hill, confident enough to run as you're a few miles away from the main square of town, surrounded by rolling fields of corn and grass. when you reach the front door your heart is still beating out of your chest— but this time it’s by happiness, overjoyed in anticipation to see your father again. pushing open the door so hard it almost falls off its hinges, the boys follow you into your abode much more calmly, yet breathing out a sigh of relief for successfully reaching the refuge. loving smiles grace their lips as they watch you eagerly looking around the house for your father.

“y/n?” that familiar voice calls. it’s not as smooth from the years he’s lived, but it speaks with just as much tenderness as when you were a child— likely because no matter how many days pass, he’ll always see you as his little girl.

“father!” you cry, the tears immediately bubbling up in both of your eyes as you practically fall into each other's arms, the hood of the cloak you wear slipping down with the momentum. his frame is much frailer than when you last saw him, which you note with a heavy heart.

“i thought you to be dead! they— they said they couldn’t find you, but there were rumors of a body found— eaten by a bear.”

“no, no, father. i’m fine! i’m completely all right.” you spoke between sobs, wiping at your tears to gaze at his face. “you’re so thin…”

“i haven’t been able to eat or keep down hardly anything. i was looking for you. every day i’d scour the forest and then try again the next day.” he takes a gasp of air, choking on his words yet trying desperately to speak— as he has so much to say. “oh, my precious girl. thank god you’re alive.”

it takes a while for you to gather yourselves, but once your eyes are almost dried— your father finally takes notice of the two men standing silently in the room.

“who are these gentlemen?”

“oh! father,” you begin, wiping your cheeks while underlying excitement is tangible in your tone. you walk over to your two lovers, holding both of their hands.

looking at jay’s facial expression is like looking through a window, clearly a bundle of nerves to meet the love of his life’s father. jake’s also worried— but only you and jay would know it. his hand is shaking in your hold, and although his smile is just as wide and beautiful as always, his eyes show a tinge of fright.

“these are the men that saved me.” you explain vaguely, a line all three of you settled on to say.

your father was old, but he wasn’t old fashioned. you have no doubt he’d be just as overjoyed to hear you have two lovers just the same as if you only had one. but jake and jay had their reservations, and just for the sake of not springing too much upon them— you planned to wait and tell your father of your relationship later into the future.

“this is jay and jake,” you gesture, both young men holding out their hands for your father to shake. but instead he steps forward and pulls them both in a hug, one that has jay and jake almost blanching from the powerful emotions he portrays with it— the thankfulness and love of a parent. something they haven’t felt in a long time.

“i’m eternally grateful to you. thank you for keeping my girl safe.”

“of course.” jake answers for the both of them, a sweet smile on his face despite his slightly breathless voice.

eventually the conversation leads to the plan, how you’ll sleep in the hay barn’s loft (for safety, to not hide in such an obvious spot as your home— but also because it’s too small to contain 4 people anyway) and wake tomorrow to get proof of your whereabouts.

“i only have one to spare, but you’ll want to take a quilt with you. i’m sure you all know after your journey that it’s cold out there.”

“yes, father. i’ll fetch them.” you say cheerily, disappearing into another room, leaving the two boys with him.

there’s a moment of awkward silence, and just when jake is going to start rambling about something to break it— your father speaks up.

“though i’m sure neither of you will mind having to share one blanket with y/n, hm?”

jay and jake’s eyes grow wide as your father smirks with playfulness, enjoying their embarrassment.

“sir, what…what do you know?” jay asks after an uncomfortable clearing of his throat.

“i know that you are in love with my daughter.” he states, the young men speechless at your father’s wisdom and how he so blatantly calls them out. jay desperately prays that what you said about your father being a hopeless romantic is true, and jake is mentally preparing to get punched and barated by your father.

instead, he does neither of those things— he only huffs good naturedly at the boys for thinking they were so good at hiding their affections for you, when he could tell the moment your eyes met with theirs.

“oh, come now. it’s quite obvious in the way you look at her. surely you see that in each other, yes?”

jay and jake glance at the other before nodding shyly. your father chuckles. “well, you have my blessing. just promise to keep her happy and safe for me, alright?”

“yes, sir.” both men respond without hesitation— because that’s all they want for you as well. they want you to be happy and safe with them.

before anyone can say anything else— you’re entering the room again, a folded up quilt in hand and ready to lead them to the barn and have a good night’s rest.

when morning comes you all wake surprisingly comfortably. you’ve come to find that sleeping on a huge pile of uncontained hay really isn’t that bad. jay and jake insist on feeding from you before walking around in public, and you assume it’s just for extra strength— but in reality it’s because both boys are concerned about being recognized as vampires for their pale skin— and drinking your blood helps bring some color to their cheeks.

“so, which of your clients do you think is trustworthy enough that they won’t go screaming about in the streets the second they see you’re back in town?” jay asks plainly, his nerves reaching great heights as you watch him pace about the dirty barn floor, while you’re tucking your hair into the hood of your cloak.

“i still don’t think you should go, my love. it’s very risky.” jake frets, biting his lip so harshly you worry it may burst.

“boys!” you firmly call, halting the fiddling of your clothes to look both of them in the eyes with a stern stare.

“no matter what we do it’ll be risky…” you say with a much gentler tone, trying to calm them as best as you can. “do you think i’m not scared also? if i let you two go out there alone you’ll have no idea who to look for or where you’re going. further more, if people see two strangers going around town asking others about me, they’ll most likely take you for a prisoner as well.”

jay growls out a sigh, his pacing beginning again as jake nibbles on his bottom lip even more.

you hurry to take hold of jay’s hand and stop him, cupping jake’s face to free his lip from between his teeth at the same time.

“don’t worry. i know what we’ll do. there’s an old woman that lives close to here with her grandson, jungwon. they’re old family friends, we can trust them. jungwon just so happened to have helped me all throughout the week before i was accused, on account of i had so much work to do and he offered. if he’ll agree to testify on my behalf— which i think he will, then hopefully that will be enough for the townsfolk to believe me.”

“and if not?” jake asks, eyes soft as they stare at you in a way that makes you feel sad. you choose your next words carefully.

“…we can only pray jungwon’s courage to speak up will inspire others to do so as well.”

….silence.

jay and jake eyes can only look at you, as if the rest of the world has all vanished— and it might as well, because the thing they care about the most in all of their miserable existence is right here before them. their chests ache. all they desire to do is go lay back down and spend the rest of eternity with you, in your own little bubble of reality you’ve been overindulging in up until now.

but they know that’s not what you want, and it’s not fair to you. honestly, they owe themselves more also. jake and jay spent almost a century of their undead life running away, not giving themselves a chance to have anything worth fighting for— but now that they have you, they do.

and so they are done running away.

“alright.” jay agrees, looking to his best friend who nods his head determinedly.

“let’s go.”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

jungwon is crouched over tending to his grandmother’s garden and collecting all that he can before the approaching winter kills everything in its wake. the cool autumn breeze soothes the thin sheen of sweat that sticks to his nape when suddenly the young boy spots movement at the edge of his vision.

“hello?” he shouts, his voice echoing across the distance between him and the strangers. it appears to be two men, and one cloaked form.

jungwon heaves an annoyed sigh, supposing it is the council again, coming around to check over various households for another poor soul they’ve decided to demonize.

“gran! they’re here again!” jungwon opens up the front door to call out before shutting it behind him. he doesn’t speak, only standing and waiting until the three strangers are right before him. “can i help you?” he asks with a tone that’s trying to appear polite, but his thin thread of patience is clearly about to snap.

“jungwon…” you whisper with a playful smile— the only part of your face that isn’t hidden by your hood. the youngest’s eyes grow wide as they flick from jake and jay to you. he’d recognize your voice from anywhere, and suddenly he can see that it’s not a stranger underneath that cloak— but a longtime friend.

“y/n!”

he almost pushes your two lovers out of the way by knocking them with his wide shoulders, jungwon not even aware of it as he throws his arms around you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and causing you to burst into joyous laughter as he spins you around.

“what are you doing here?” he asks with a wide smile, eyes catty with mirth as he stares at you— like he can’t believe you’re really back.

“i came for you, actually.”

before you can explain anything more, jungwon’s grandmother is opening the front door, a grin that shines with love greeting all of you as she urges the four of you to enter the house.

“i’ll do it.” jungwon says with fiery determination after all the introductions and explaining is over. “of course i’ll do this for you, y/n. when you left…i thought i might never see you again. but now that you’re back— i can’t bear the thought of you having to leave again, or worse.”

you smile, and it’s a little tight with the last implication jungwon is hardly able to even utter— but right at that moment a cup billowing with steam is sat before you, his grandmother quick to serve the rest of the men also.

“what is this?” jake asks, but the answer is made clear when the steam reaches his nose, the fresh, icy scent almost making him feel more energized.

the elderly woman answers anyway after plucking off a few extra leaves from a small plant that sits at the window sill, along with a row of other potted herbs. she sprinkles the leaves into jungwon’s cup, knowing he likes his a little stronger.

“mint tea with a little ginger. it should give you a bit of a boost. i always drink it when the weather starts to turn cold.”

the woman turns an inquisitive eye towards jake and jay, forehead wrinkling as she looks them over from head to toe.

“although, it seems that you two aren’t very affected by the cold weather.”

the two men stiffen as you remain clueless to the little exchange, none of you considering that their usual attire of a vest and suit with no other coat could implement to their lack of needing warmth— considering their vampirism makes them ‘cold blooded’. jake keeps his wide eyes on the woman, while jay glances at you and jungwon, oblivious as you’re wrapped into a conversation with one another.

jay feels a wave of something he can’t identify prickle across his skin, feeling the air change between the three of you— and whatever it is, it’s not good. the old woman’s lips morph into a kind smile across her face, yet jake feels strangely sick with some sort of anxiety as it all of a sudden hits him. you’re all in an old woman’s house— in the middle of farmlands, with practically no one else around. there’s a garden outside and herbs lined all along the window sill. and now…now is she sensing that they’re vampires as well?

perhaps he and jay were wrong in their theory of you being a witch— maybe the person who gave you those enchanted necklaces…was right in front of them.

but that doesn’t inherently make the old woman evil— so what is this dread that lays so heavily in jake’s stomach?

looking over to jay, the older shares a look with him that says he feels it as well.

“ma’am…wh—“

before jay can finish his sentence, there’s an aggressive pounding at the door, a loud shout following quickly after.

“it’s the terminer! open up!”

instinctively, you all get up and huddle in a corner of the room, trying to make sure you’re out of view from the windows. jay’s breathing picks up as his hand tightly grasps your arm, pushing you farther behind him than you already are as jake pulls you into his arms and jungwon shields his grandmother with his body— already worrying of her getting seriously injured if a ruckus were to break out. no one says anything for a moment, jay tilting his neck out as little as he could to get a glimpse out the window in front of you.

“there’s multiple men out there—“

“the town council.” jungwon practically hisses, and jay has a brief thought of wondering how awful some of the people in this town must be to make hatred burn in the young boy’s eyes— before it sounds like someone kicks at the locked door.

“open up or we’ll enter by force!”

“hurry, hurry!” jungwon harshly whispers, pulling your hood back over your head and pushing you toward a tall cabinet that’s recessed into the wall— appearing big enough to fit you in. jake hurries along to help while jay braces to fight, the sound of thunderous kicking now becoming resounding through the small cottage.

jungwon opens the cabinet and a plethora of dry goods and jars of food go tumbling onto the floor. jake desperately tries to pick everything up quickly, shoving it into another cabinet as jungwon helps you step in and squeeze beside a dusty broom. your limbs are cramped, still unable to push yourself deep enough into the small, cluttered space before a rock is thrown through the window, breaking it and sending shards of glass across the floor.

jay moves to protect jungwon’s grandmother from the glittering rain of sharp pieces as jungwon and jake uselessly try to help you hide— yet it makes no difference in the end.

as someone throws a coat over the jagged edges of the now broken window to jump inside— the door busts down. angry men pour through and flood the small space, easily spotting jake and jungwon’s trembling hands still trying to maneuver your body.

one man— the terminer, moves towards you as you feel like your stomach has been filled with sand. jay yells out and the sound is so scary and desperate in his fear, and as your round eyes move to look at your love— you regret it.

jay only leaves the old woman’s side to protect you— but he’s not even close to reaching you before three men gang around him, twisting his arm back behind him with unrestrained force and tangible malice. jay groans as his eyes shut in pain, still trying to fight the men off before they push him into the wall. and then you can no longer see jay, the backs of the men shielding him from your eyes as you can also not see whatever their hands are doing to him.

then you hear a thud, the floor shaking. and that’s when the men start kicking who you can only assume is jay on the ground.

“stop! stop!” you cry just as jake’s hand grabs at the terminer’s arm, readying to fight as well— while jungwon still stands in front of you. you push him away with a heavy heart, fully exposing yourself to all of them.

“i’ll go with you, don’t hurt them. i’ll go.”

you feel bile rise in your throat with how cruelly the terminer smiles at you, quick to pull chains out from his bulky coat and shackle them to your obediently raised wrists.

jake is unable to abide by your wishes, screaming out your name as you hear the sound of movement— and then struggle. there’s a wail of pain that sounds too much like jake— and then a guttural shout from jay.

your crying at this point as panic strikes you, trying to turn your head and be able to see past the broad bodies of the two men who are leading you out of the house. but before you even can look you’re roughly jostled in their hold on you, pushing you forward with a jolt that causes you to gasp and almost trip over your own feet.

“keep moving forward, witch.” the terminer growls, spit flying from his clenched teeth to land in your cheek. your eyes squeeze shut at the action, tilting your head away from his face.

then there’s a fainter cry, another dull thud— and jungwon’s watery voice that cracks from behind you.

“no— stop! don’t touch her!”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

by the time you’re led to the bridge that overlooks a deep, dried out river way— which is nothing but a long drop to jagged rocks and death— the small population of your town has formed a huge crowd as they follow you— either after spotting or hearing the ruckus as you, jay, jake, and jungwon were pulled along throughout the streets.

you dread to think of where jungwon’s grandmother is, or what’s become of her— and as though you’ve summoned your father just as you think of him— you hear him shout as he pushes his way to the front of the crowd.

“no! wait— let my daughter go! she’s not guilty!”

you’re brought to the middle of the bridge as the rest of the onlookers are guarded by men with torches and sharply spiked spears, warning them to stay back. you almost stumble to the ground when you’re shoved in front of the town’s priest, who must have already been called for the occasion as he stands with an evil air and proudness in his eyes— like you’re the vermin he’s finally caught, and your death will be his trophy of victory.

a heavy noose is swung over your neck, almost making you fall backward as you have to use more strength to lean forward and stay upright. the pressure against your neck is more than uncomfortable— it’s haunting. as though it’s been waiting for you as it grips around your jugular tightly. you do your best to stifle your tears, painting your face with a calm sort of hostility towards the priest.

you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

“you’ve been found guilty of evading the law and witchcraft— consulting with the devil, of which is punishable by death. repent now and confess your sins.”

your eyes widen, expecting to at least be given a trial and be judged by the council like the others were before being thrown over the bridge and have your neck snapped by the unforgiving rope. but it seems as though your month long evasion has only cemented everyone’s desire to take your life.

“no, she isn’t! she isn’t guilty!” jay— jake, you’re not even sure you can bear to decipher who’s broken voice that is who cries out for you as you keep your eyes forward, only staring with hatred at the same old priest who killed your mother— somehow even that is easier than looking at your loved ones.

maybe you’re a coward.

“i saw her! i— i was with her when she was accused! i know she’s not a witch, just listen to me!” jungwon shouts, trying to get the attention of the people— but it falls on deaf ears that only seem to crave the death of innocent lives.

perhaps you are cursed— but not by being cohorts with the devil. on the contrary, it seems he is against you.

“go on, child. confess.” the priest prompts, the minute and sinister curve to his wrinkled lips.

you take a shaking breath, liquid filling your eyes no matter how hard you try to resist— even as they turn slender with bitterness.

“one of us will in fact burn in hell, reverend.” you bite, voice trembling and low with emotion as you hear the sobs of your lovers— but there’s an underlying power with which you say your next words. “but where you’re wrong is it won’t be me. when you die you’ll wake to fire melting the flesh from your bones, and the red eyes of lucifer himself will be the only face that greets you into eternal damnation.”

that pompous smile is wiped right off the man’s face, and you could almost be satisfied from the flicker of fear in his eyes after he hears your words— if it weren’t for jake and jay’s begging voices yelling out to you again.

“please, y/n, just look at us!”

“will you really refuse us one last glimpse of your face before you die!”

you’re unable to contain your sobs then— and despite that it’s not the emotion you want to show them in your last moments, you lift your head and gaze at them through the tears.

you feel an almost unbearable amount of pain straining your heart, and you wonder if you’ll manage to die from a broken heart before the noose squeezes around your throat. jay’s wounded eye is swollen and bloodied from being beaten and kicked— and his lip is in the same shape. jake’s clothes are torn, a small yet deep break in the skin by the tail of his brow. but the worse thing is by far their tears; how their legs are too weak from devistation to even hold themselves up as the men keep them upright by the rough hold on their arms. how cruel they are— making sure your lovers have a clear view to watch your body be flung over the bridge.

you the crack of your neck won’t echo down the dry river’s trench— for their sake…

“do it.” the priest urges with unbridled rage at your words, and the terminer’s quick to roughly tug you to the bridge’s edge.

suddenly there’s a piercing scream— a stark contrast to the viciously delighted chants of the townspeople.

everyone looks over as a hole is made amongst the crowd, everyone stepping away from one form.

as bodies move, you’re finally able to recognize the person as your father, who’s stood with his eyes closed, hands in front of him and palms up— while you watch his lips move, seeming to be chanting under his breath.

his voice starts to slowly grow in volume— as so does your dread, unknown tongues spilling from his mouth.

there’s a choked sound— and you look just in time to see the priest’s neck crack to the side, the broken edge of his bone poking up against his skin as his eyes open and pupils tremble— like he’s fighting for them not to roll to the back of his head. yet they still do, after a few blood vessels pop and the whites of his eyes are filled with red. the image is burned into your memory as his limp body falls lifelessly off the bridge.

there’s a splat— quickly followed by the gasps of the crowd as you’re grateful that you can’t see how his body is surely busted open and bloody across jagged rocks.

“father, stop!” you cry— but it’s useless.

everyone knows he’s the witch now after witnessing the horrors you know he didn’t want to commit.

but in his mind— he has to stop this.

he did nothing when they killed your mother in favor of raising you, fearing you might wouldn’t survive— at least not happily— if both of your parents were dead and you were left orphaned. but now this is the best choice. he can’t let you or anyone else die. even if it means he will.

“it’s him! it’s him! hang him before he kills us all!” someone yells out amongst the crowd.

everyone is now in a panic, women and children are crying. some run away to evade the impending doom they think your father will reign upon them. a few council members let go of jake and jay in favor of capturing your father, and he does nothing to fight them off as he silences his chants, knowing he’s now too weakened to force all of them off. there’s literally a small army of men ready to fight, and he desires no other blood to be shed. he can only hope this is enough to turn anymore accusations away from you and save your life.

“no, no, please! i beg you!” you scream as someone takes the noose off of your neck and onto his.

your vision turns blurry and strange after that— and so does your hearing, like your ears have been filled with water. all you can hear is muffled screams— you think some of them might be your own. you must be trying to walk forward, but your trembling legs are too weak as you fall to your knees. all you’re able to focus on is your father’s eyes, strained with sadness as he tries his best to hide it from you— giving you one last, quivering smile.

they throw him over the bridge.

the snap of his neck does echo, and the rope cracks from the momentous swing of his limp body.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

EMBERS IN THE ASH;

the mansion is filled with finely dressed people, all having a good time— filling the space with conversation and laughter.

jay and jake are on either one of your sides, the younger’s hand on your waist while the older holds your hand.

there’s the ring of someone dinging their glass, everyone’s head including yours looking up to the town’s mayor as he stands at the upper level balcony, overlooking the whole party.

“if i may have your attention.” the man politely begins, voice bouncing off the marble floors with an echo. “as you all know, this is no ordinary celebration. while this fall festival is to enjoy the festivities and spend time with loved ones, it’s also to remember the lives that were lost to the horrific ‘witch trails’ four years ago.”

the mayor raises his glass of champagne, and the rest of you follow. “a toast, to our family and friends— even strangers, who have passed on.”

you, jay, and jake take a sip of the pale liquid in your sparkling glasses. the taste is bittersweet, and so are your feelings.

your father’s death was tragic— even now, you still wake in the middle of the night screaming from nightmares that force you to watch him die in an endless loop. but his selfless sacrifice wasn’t in vain. after the mass witness of what true witchcraft can really do, and the absence of the priest— who was rotting the anxious minds of the people— things changed for the better. your goodhearted mayor was elected, and hope was reinstalled into all of you. the problem was lack of funds to make the town a better place— and that’s where jake and jay came in. as humans they were born into a wealthy family, and in their undead life that money only grew over the years. the mayor had a strong belief that he’d find good fortune in mining, and jay and jake were happy to invest in the plan— knowing that it could be healing for you and jungwon to have your hometown— that’s filled with fond memories and tragic endings alike, be changed into a better place.

well, the investment struck gold— literally.

the town’s buildings were reconstructed and the influx of wealth attracted businesses and many new opportunities to arise. a clinic was even opened, where jungwon is currently apprenticing to become a doctor.

unfortunately, the day of your father’s death was also his grandmother’s. when the mob came for you, one of the men cruelly pushed her down, and the fall was just too much for her worn body to take. she was clearly in great pain, lying on the floor— but she urged jungwon to go after you.

and when he returned to the cottage— she had already passed on, left on the dirty floor with a hand over her weak heart.

her death and the guilt practically tormented jungwon— it nearly drove him mad. the only person that was able to get through to him was jay, and the two became extremely close in the process. soon the very thing that made jungwon want to end it all fueled his determination. he couldn’t save his grandmother, but how many lives have been lost that could have easily been prevented or aided, even by the simple knowledge of basic first aid or prevention?

jungwon is happy now, sated by his fulfilling work that is never done. it consumes most of his time, but it’s also what brought that sparkle back in his eyes— life. he no longer has the empty stare of a dead man, and for that— none of you can complain for how busy he is.

this brings you back to the present— standing in the huge mansion that you now call home. jay and jake made the arrangements to build it months ago, and it was finally done. so not only is this a fall festival, but it’s also a housewarming of sorts.

“now, for anyone that would like to participate in the corn maze, please make your way outside!”

you flash the boys an excited smile before turning your back to them in favor of following the crowd out the door, but jake stops you with a hand to your forearm.

“we’re— we’re hungry, miss.” he says shyly, yet the way he looks at you with those gleaming, wanting eyes tells you he’s not as bashful as he’s trying to portray.

neither of them should need more blood, you’d just let them feed from you this morning, and the subtle blush on jake’s cheeks give away that they have plenty of blood in their system for him to even be able to have such a reaction. not only that— but jake called you ‘miss’, a title that now after being so far into your relationship he only uses when he’s needy.

your eyes crease in suspicion, gaze moving to look at jay standing right behind jake’s shoulder. he blanches— very minutely, before his head tilts downwards in favor of inspecting the floor beneath his feet.

you bite down a smirk, knowing exactly what game they’re wanting to play.

but you want to play a game of your own.

“later, darlings. i really want to go into the corn maze.”

tugging your arm out of his grip to descend out the front door, you swear you hear jake let out a complaining whine under his breath before both men hurry to follow you.

the air has a slight bite thanks to the chilly air, but the sun shines brightly and everyone is buzzing with excitement— making you feel almost electric.

you run to the entrance of the corn maze, both of your lovers fretting at you not to be so fast as they don’t want to lose you to the small crowd that came outside. you don’t respond to them in favor of looking at each pathway.

you could either go left, right, or straight.

your pause is long enough for jay to think you’re unable to decide as he begins to suggest his idea. “i think we should just constantly go right. eventually we—“

“tag!” you childishly declare, pushing your hand against jay’s chest, giving jake a glance as though to say ‘you too’, before bolting left.

“dearest, don’t fall!” jay calls, quickly running after you. jake mutters out a ‘seriously?’ under his breath, a fond smile on his face as he watches you giggle and look over your shoulder at jay, his best friend’s worry turning to playfulness as your energy fills him with it.

then the two of you turn a corner and jake finally breaks out of his admiring— hurrying to catch up with the both of you before he gets lost trying to find you.

you continue trying to escape their sight as you laugh, turning down different pathways as quickly as you can. dirt crunches beneath your boots and the rustle of crisp corn stalks and your lovers calls and laughter is all you can hear. you must be towards the edge of the maze or something— either way, you don’t think anyone else is nearby.

so with that reassurance and feeling cheeky knowing the boys are so needy, you halt your running and turn towards the direction jake and jay are coming from.

just before they round the corner and appear in front of you, you pull down the neckline of your dress, your chest popping out.

jay’s the first to reach you, stopping dead in his tracks and wide smile falling as he stares at you flashing him.

jake’s giggles aren’t far behind— the puppy practically running into jay’s back.

he’s mid complaint when he steps to the side and finally gets an eyeful of you, that flush rushing back to his cheeks again.

“y— y/n, what are you doing?”

you laugh, covering your modesty as quickly as you revealed it before turning on your heel to run off again— except a rock catches on your boot heel and sends you falling onto the dusty ground.

both men gasp behind you, horniness completely forgotten as they are both by your sides in a second to help you up and make sure you’re not hurt.

“i told you not to run, gorgeous. your dress is way too long for it.” jay gently scolds, cupping your face in his hands as he gives you a onceover.

“sorry, angel. i suppose i got carried away.” you breathlessly laugh, your smile aiding his worry— especially as you press a sweet peck to his cheek that has his eyes sparkling over cutely. jake is busy dusting off the skirt portion of your dress when his heightened sense of smell catches a whiff of something.

“…you’re bleeding, my love.”

“hm?” you hum, somewhat startled as you look down at your hands for cuts or a tear in your long sleeves.

you miss the way jake’s eyes dilate as he slowly hikes your skirts up— all the way to the bend of your thigh. it isn’t until you gasp at a wet sensation against your leg that you look away from your arms and down at the boy on his knees.

there’s a small cut on your inner thigh, yet it’s deep enough to have a long, thin trickle of blood dripping down from it— and jake is licking it up, tongue flattened as he slowly runs the warm appendage up your soft skin. your heart quickens, and you know jay notices it too, as well as smells the scent of your sweet blood. the raven haired wraps wanting arms around your waist, making the hardness in his pants known as it presses against your hip.

“pu— puppy…” you whisper, feeling yourself dampen between your legs as jake whimpers happily in response, kissing the blood trail up your thigh— dangerously close to your core.

once he gets to the actual cut he presses an opened mouth kiss to it, letting out a breathy moan when he sucks at it. at the same time, jay rocks his hips against you, just once— but you know he’s getting more and more worked up as he starts kissing at your neck.

jake’s fangs brush against your wound, jay’s simultaneously raking across the skin of your neck— and you hurry to pull yourself away from them, knowing if you don’t they’ll start feeding from you right where anyone can show up and see.

“we need— a room.” you pant, standing a foot away from them as your chest expands and falls quickly.

jay isn’t hesitant to tell the both of you to follow him, jake clumsily getting up from the ground as the older takes your hand to lead you.

his theory of turning one way the entire time worked— though you’re not sure if he was actually correct or just lucky. either way, jay and jake are on a mission to find somewhere private to ravish you as the older keeps a firm grip on your hand. taking you up the stairs and down a hallway, the sound of music and voices of the now dancing crowd fades away.

“how many bedchambers do we have anyway?” you ask curiously as you look around the fully furnished and decorated space.

jake and jay had given you a tour, but not of the entire mansion, only the bottom floor— the construction was only recently completed and so was purchasing and moving in all the furniture.

“who cares?” jay says impatiently, too pent up. jake speaks at the same time. “four.”

“damn...” you mumble under your breath, jake hurrying in front of you and jay to open a double door, large and white with intricate detailing carved into the wood.

“here it is, love. our room.” jake says softly, eyes shinning and sweet as he watches your reaction to the space closely.

you gasp as you take in how beautifully done it all is. the room is moody, mahogany wood with black tapestries and pops of red. a large, black wardrobe is painted with intricate vines and little flowers spiraling up the surface— and a canopy bed is placed right before you, black curtains draped beautifully.

“you…how did you both even do this? it’s gorgeous! i can’t even express how well done this is.”

“it was all jay.” jake tattles, smiling at the older— who’s already pink in the cheeks when you turn to him.

“you did this?” you ask in wonderment. jay’s hand squeezes yours tighter.

“well…i enjoy fashion, and it translates to room design also..i suppose.”

“oh, angel, i love you.” you sigh, wrapping your arms around kind his neck to kiss him, jay not resisting in the slightest as he smiles against your lips.

“hey! i helped with the bed!” jake whines, though you can hear his smile. the puppy’s hands fall to your waist, pressing up behind you as he nuzzles into your neck for attention.

“of course you did. all you care about is where we’ll lay, isn’t it?” you smirk after separating from the kiss, only to turn your head and give jake a fondly accusing look.

“i refute that accusation.” the brunet denies poorly, unable to keep his cheeky smile at bay.

“i second it.” jay replies dryly, only for his eyes to sparkle with mirth as you giggle against his chest.

“untrue! i have many opinions for the choice in paintings we should put on the wall.”

“and what opinions would that be, jakey?”

his eyes shift to a heated stare as he playfully bites his lip, gaze roaming over the skin and bones of your collar— exposed in your already low cut dress. (it’s rare that you can leave your neck on display given how often the men feed from you, but lately you’ve asked them to bite your wrists instead as you’ve found it’s a more convenient spot and doesn’t rile them up as much as other places on your body— especially since you’re usually wearing long sleeves to shield from the increasingly chilly weather.)

“your flawless face, hung up in every room.” he declares, beginning to press ticklish little kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

“hm, i have to admit that’s not a bad idea.” jay smirks, you weakly slapping him on the chest with a bashful smile and shake of the head.

“enough, that’s nonsense.”

jake abruptly sinks to his knees, hand slipping beneath your dress to lightly trail his fingers up your calf— and the grin is wiped right off your face as your eyes widen just barely.

“perhaps even,” jake murmurs hotly, his breath rising goosebumps on your flesh as he slowly collects your skirts in his other hand. you know his face must be close as you feel his nose brush against your thigh. “a painting of your bare skin; these beautiful thighs; your supple breasts.”

your breathing stutters as jake’s tongue teasingly swipes over your core, an airy chuckle made between your legs as the man doesn’t miss how your body starts to tremble.

“though i doubt even the most talented painter could capture how glistening and wet you become for us.”

“as if. i’m not letting any other man besides us look upon her naked body.” jay retorts— the buttons of your dress’s bodice being ripped off a second later when the man forcibly tears it open, pulling your chemise down and causing your breasts to bounce forth. his mouth immediately latches to your tit, sucking at your hardened nipple as his other hand tweeks the other.

at the same time, jake’s tongue gets bolder— moaning at the taste of your arousal.

“i— i thought you said you were hung— hungry.”

“come now, love. you know that’s not what we really wanted.” the brunet gently retorts, drawing a gasp from your lips as his fingers rubs up and down your slit. “your blood does taste sweet, i can still smell it. but there’s something else that i know tastes even sweeter.”

you moan when jake finally stops teasing and attaches his plump lips to your cunt, peeking his tongue out with each open mouth kiss he grants you with.

jay’s hands become firmer as he gropes your tits in both palms. his fangs accidentally brush against your sensitive skin— yet it causes you no pain, only pleasure as your eyes squeeze shut, hands needing something to hold onto as you cup his face in your hands. his shut eyes open to gaze up at you— dark eyes heavy lidded and so sexy as he continues to tenderly suck your bud between his pouty lips.

“oh, angel. you’re so pretty.” you murmur lovingly, at the same time spreading your unsteady legs further apart as jake starts to lose himself in your pussy.

to your dismay, jay pulls off your tits with a pop— but the disappointment doesn’t last long as he begins taking off your dress completely.

“jake, get out so i can get her out of this…jake!”

jay huffs when he gets no answer and the sounds of your dripping pussy squelching in jake’s incessant mouth doesn’t stop, a loud moan forced from you as jay reaches under your dress and pulls jake out from under your skirts by the collar— the suction of jake’s lips around your clit becoming even stronger when he was roughly pulled away from you.

neither man say a word to each other when jay lets go and jake almost falls on his back, the younger only catching his breath and wiping his glistening lips against his hand— and jay removing the layers of your clothing with quick movements.

when you’re stripped bare, you yelp as jay picks you up in his arms— descending into quiet giggles after as your legs wrap around his torso.

laying you in the center of the bed, both men are already kneeled between your spread legs— that you only stretch wider as you look at the two expectantly.

“well? you said you were hungry, so eat.”

both men nearly conk heads as they eagerly lower to get your pussy in their mouths, the following throaty groan and high pitched whine sending a wave of pleasure to your nerves. jay descends down to your pulsing entrance, flicking his tongue out and going a little deeper each time inside you, slowly stretching you out around him. jake suckles at your clit like the brainless little puppy he is, spit drooling out of his mouth to slick your already dripping folds.

“go—“ you swallow around the pleasured sounds that try to escape you, fingers tangling into jake’s hair in an attempt to keep him and you grounded. “go deeper, angel. use your fingers too. i want— i want to have both your cocks tonight.”

“fff— fuck. yes, my lady. whatever you desire.”

jake whimpers at your request, beginning to pathetically hump against the mattress, comforter bunching between his legs— before you pull at the tufts of his hair.

“no, puppy. be good.”

a whine, and then— “sorry, miss.”

as the process of jay stretching you out on his fingers and tongue continue, one finger— two, then four— paired with his wriggling appendage and jake’s ticklish whimpers against your swollen clit, you’re brought closer and closer to ecstasy.

“no— no more. i’m about to cum.” you pant.

but all jake hears is you’re about to cum, and greedily he pushes jay away from your cunt to finger your hole and lick hungrily at your pussy like a crazed animal. you can’t even scold him as you cry and whither against his ministrations, your release filling his mouth.

“bad puppy. so, so bad.” you half heartedly scold. you’re not even entirely certain the boy hears you when he pulls away from your pussy with dazed eyes, tongue almost hanging out of his mouth as your cum sticks to his lips in glossy strings.

“me first.” jay tells jake grumpily— the older using jake’s disobedient moment as a chance to get ahead and take all of his clothes off. he lays on his side next to you, looking at you for permission with begging eyes that have you going along with his every whim immediately.

“go ahead, angel. you can have me how you want me.” you grant, thumb rubbing up and down his temple.

jay presses a sweet kiss to your lips, whispering a thank you before grabbing your thigh and positioning it over his hip.

“this is hardly fair. i wanted to be facing her.” jake whines like a spoiled child, jay rolling his eyes in response.

“you’re the one who started it.”

“i—“

“stop fighting and fuck me!” you raise your voice, feeling edged by how you can feel jay’s hard length poking at your inner thigh, yet it’s not inside you yet.

they both give you an apologetic look before jake’s settling behind your back, pulling himself against you in a hug— while jay delicately glides his cock back and forth through your folds, making sure he’s slick enough for you.

“ready, my lady?”

at your wordless nod jay sinks his bulbous head past your hole, slowly pushing the rest of himself inside. jake repeats the action after ensuring you’re alright, and you moan in complete bliss at the feeling of being so full when jake and jay are both nestled to the hilt in your cunt.

“fuck, can feel your pussy cl— clenching.” jay strangles out, fingers squeezing into the side of your hip. jake sounds as though he’s already about to lose it, hot breath puffing against your shoulder as he nuzzles his face between your neck and shoulder, hands moving from your waist to hold your tits in his needy hands.

“so..good!” he whines, unable to wait for your permission to move as he starts fucking into you with small thrusts, getting used to the feeling of sharing your pussy with another cock.

“shit— jake!” jay grits as though he’s scolding him for his misbehavior— yet he also can’t help rocking his hips into you when his friend starts.

that gummy, sensitive spot is constantly hit as the men thrust into you at the opposite moment, making you feel deliriously good as you find yourself shaking— your previous orgasm not helping your dwindling control.

“fuck yes! good boys..oh my god! faster, fuck me faster!”

jay whimpers, high pitched and desperate as his hips start slapping against your skin, hiking your leg farther across him as his hand takes a handful of your thigh’s squishy flesh in a bruising grip. jake is crying worshiping words of your body and beauty as he pulls away from your neck to watch how your ass bounces with every pound of his cock, one hand leaving your breast to grab your cheek and spread it open.

“my love, you look so gorgeous with two cocks stuffed in your little cunt— sound so pretty too.”

“c— can we breed your pussy, dearest?” jay pants. “want our seed to fill up your hole and fuck it out of you.”

“yes, angel— puppy, give me your cum.”

hands are squeezing and grabbing all over your body as you lose track of who’s hands are who’s anymore, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when jay and jake’s cocks pump ribbon after ribbon of white into your wanting cunt. their warm fluid fills you to the brim until you feel it gushing out as they continue to fuck you, filthy noises of their dripping wet, pulsing cocks continuing to absolutely ruin your hole.

you reach your release with a loud cry, throat cracking as your arousal drenches jay’s groin and drips down between the three of you.

your body continues to shake even after it’s over, none of you moving from the sensitivity (or perhaps it’s simply that none of you want to). jay presses comforting pecks up your sternum, even as he’s catching his own breath— and jake is sat up on his elbow, even though he’s weak from pleasure— to brush your hair out of your face and comb his fingers through your scalp.

“you look like a dream…” the brunet whispers reverently.

“i feel like i’m in one.” you whisper back with a breathless laugh.

your dark angel slowly pulls out of you, causing all of you to grimace before he’s calming you with two kisses to your cheek. “then let's pray you never wake.”

the next pass of time is spent with more kisses pressed between loving words said with tender tones and passionate eyes that are so warm— so warm with love that you find yourself sniffling as jake is buttoning the last clasp of your dress shut— all of you fully cleaned and clothed now.

“love, what’s wrong?”

“i’m— i’m perfectly fine. perfect.” you whisper, wiping your teary eyes as jay cups your face in concern, both men staring at you. “i’m just so happy. i love you both so much, you’re my everything.”

they fall quiet— which is unusual for the two who always answer your professions of love with eager promises of their own. jake gives jay a look, and the older grins with a fond sigh.

“fine. i suppose now is a perfect moment to.”

“…what?” you utter as you watch jake walk to the large wardrobe you admired earlier, opening it and pulling something out that he keeps hidden in his palms as he returns to stand before you again.

“it’s not the most traditional or legal proposal of sorts, but our whole relationship is rather unique— so i’d say it’s fitting.” jay says, his eyes utterly entranced by yours as the tears finally begin to spill as jake uncovers the crimson little box in his hands, slowly opening it to reveal a glittering ring.

words don’t grace your tongue— but it’s not necessary as jake speaks first.

“you’ve bewitched us, y/n. body and soul. a million passes of the moon couldn’t even satisfy our all consuming desire to be with you always.”

“and we wanted to ask you,” jay smiles, a twinkling of tears in his own eyes. “if you would like to spend an eternity with us. to give us a chance at making you endlessly happy, and being truly ours.”

your heart pounds, your hands tremble— these two men stand before you with centuries worth of love to give you, and your only two bites away from it.

nothing has ever felt so right before as you say yes, yes, yes!

and as jay holds your hand and jake slips the ring onto your finger, all you can think of is how your love will last even more than forever.

PLEASE REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED

NOTE: congrats, you made it to the end! ily for that. consensual kisses for you 😙💕

kinda upset i didn’t get to post this during october 🙄 but it’s still autumn! sooooo hopefully you don’t mind. i tried to address all of the plot that i made up but i couldn’t always find a spot to talk about it that seemed right. so if you have questions, ask away!

this fic had my google and youtube history so out of wack. like ‘what was soap like around the 1700’s’ and ‘how did peasants bathe’. 💀 (they used animal fat as soap btw. it was gelatinous & not like a bar of soap at all…i decided to leave that detail out.)

[amourtoken]

yes PLEASE write about quinn knocking you up and also please never stop writing smut i feel FERAL

I got a couple asks about this so let me roll them all into one here yall are horny unhinged individuals together now

Quinn is unfortunately insanely susceptible to baby fever. He can't help himself, the thought of having a little extended family to provide for is sweet enough on its own but getting there is what he's really been focused on recently. He cannot clear his mind of the idea at all and it's starting to effect every aspect of his life. His thoughts are always frenzied and his brain fuzzy, he can barely focus on the ice and you constantly catch him zoned out and have to draw his attention back to you. What's he even thinking about?

This all started after he saw you interacting with some kids at a charity event. He didn't think it'd be a personal attack on his psyche to see you leaning down to their level so they felt more included while you chatted about your days or whatever random thoughts of theirs that sprung to mind. They all seemed so happy in your presence and you've always just naturally been great with kids so it's no surprise to you, but Quinn instantaneously fell victim to the infectious thought process of parenthood.

all he's thought about for days is how pretty you'd look pregnant and how good of a parent you'd be. Would your kids have your smile? Your eyes? Hopefully they had your sweet personality at the very least. You two could be the overly supportive cheesy hockey parents when your kid got a little older too, if they took after him and wanted to play. Quinn would fall down these hour long rabbit holes in his own mind of what your future would look like with an addition to the family and it was becoming more and more of a necessity every day.

Eventually it gets to a point where he can't fucking contain it anymore and he lets the idea slip while he's got you pinned to the mattress below him.

Quinn's fingers are holding your hips tight enough to bruise while he's buried inside you, panting praises and explicit compliments against your neck in rhythm with his thrusts. He can't get the image of you all pretty and pregnant out of his brain at all, the only thing keeping him from it is a thin latex and a question really. He didn't wanna ruin the moment but it was out of his control at this point, the need overtaking critical thinking skills.

"Fuck- please let me put a baby in you- shit- p-please- c-can't stop thinkin' about it- fuck i need it so bad...'m sorry-"

His voice sounded so broken, moans and whines cutting through his words against his will. You had no idea he felt this way and fuck you wish he'd said something sooner because you've been going through the same misery he has. For the same reason. The same exact event that permeated his peace with the idea of kids with you was the one that had you dizzy thinking about him being a dad. Safe to say your communication skills were lacking during this cause both of you were afraid to ask but now that you're on the same page? You're in for it.

You respond enthusiastically, nodding quickly and immediately pleading for him to do just that. Quinn's chest fluttered at your whined pleas and as much as it pained him to pull out in the moment it was definitely worth it to sink back into you raw. He wanted this to last forever but the way you felt so fucking warm and wet around him was ultimately his undoing, much to his own protest. He didn't wanna finish without dragging you along either, his thrusts fell out of rhythm as he snaked a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, trying his best to take you with him.

"Shit- you're gonna be so pretty- fuck- god I'm so fuckin' lucky-"

Your nails sunk into his shoulders as you pulled him closer, legs shaking as you tipped off the edge of your orgasm with a whine of his name. He almost immediately followed you, hands gripping behind your knees to fold you in half under him, allowing him to sink deeper than before. Quinn's vision blurred with black spots and his voice pitched up into whiney pleas as he filled you up, finally getting what's plagued him for fucking weeks now. Doesn't matter if this was the time that did it or not, he was dead set on fucking you full of his cum over and over and over until you got the results you both wanted (and then some extra for good measure ofc)

[jjonglemons]

all my works can be found here

Don't Speak

part two

song for chapter link - this story is based on a dream i had the other night. i decided to make it into two parts!

Summary: you’ve been friends with mingi for a while now. finally, you’ve confessed your feelings and it seems like he feels the same… but not without complications.

WC: 2.5k

Tags: smut, fratboy!mingi, fem!reader, drinking, partying, praise, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral, squirting

“Hongjoong, could you come zip my dress up, please?” you groaned, arms aching from your attempt to stretch them around your back to do it yourself.

Soon enough, Hongjoong was standing behind you, allowing your arms to rest. “There.” He said, pulling up the zipper. 

“Thank you.” You turned around and patted his arm affectionately.

It was Mingi’s, one of Hongjoong’s frat brothers, birthday. For once, he didn’t want to have a lavish party; he just wanted a small dinner and to hit the club afterwards. He and Hongjoong were very close, and knowing how close you two were, the invitation was naturally extended to you, as well. In fact, Mingi had grown to like you, having gotten to know more about you a bit from the times you’d interact with him when coming over to their house to see Hongjoong. 

“We should get going,” Hongjoong announced, “Mingi just texted me and said everyone else is there already.”

Showing up fashionably late was not your thing. Frankly, you were an early arrivee in most cases, and it’d bother you to be late. However, this time you didn’t mind so much. You noticed Mingi’s eyes on you the moment you stepped foot into the restaurant, preventing any possible annoyance to develop. Whilst everyone else casually greeted you and Hongjoong before going back to their conversations, Mingi continued to scan up and down your frame. The way your dress hugged every inch of your curves, the way your silver jewellery glistened in the warm lighting of the restaurant, the way your dark curls touched the tip of your nipples poking through your dress, the way your smile became an extra lamp in the room. Mingi could go on and on in his head about how felt about you. He’d be pleased to hear you did the same about him, but his feelings were unbeknownst to you and vice versa. Who knew how long it would be until you let him know how you felt?

“Good to see you, Hongjoong, Y/N,” Mingi nodded in your direction, being careful to move his eyes between you and Hongjoong in hopes neither of you would notice his stares, “thank you for coming.”

“Thanks for having us,” you smiled, sitting down in the seat across from him at the table. 

The dinner moved along joyously, everyone socialising and filling the restaurant with curious chatter. Occasionally, someone would get a bit too loud, causing others in the restaurant to glance over at the table with slight annoyance. But nonetheless, it didn’t seem to become too disruptive. 

You were careful not to drink too much, because you wanted your drunk feelings to be more prominent at the club later. The club which you were going to made the best gin and tonics, too. Despite only having a shot, though, you were feeling a bit giddy. You weren’t necessarily a light weight, but you weren’t a heavy weight, either. You eyed Mingi across the table as he chatted with Yeosang beside him. You watched the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. God, he had such a beautiful laugh. You closed your eyes for a moment to just focus on his deep voice as he continued to talk about whatever topic it was; you weren’t really paying much attention past the tone of him speaking. When you opened them again, you found Mingi peering back at you, a small smirk playing at his lips. You blushed as you watched him pick up his shot glass, subtly tilt it in your direction, then down the clear liquid. Beginning to feel hot, you couldn’t help but think about dancing with him later. Your bodies pressed against each other, hearts pounding in sync with the music, his breath falling down the sides of your neck. You took another shot, and you were already starting to feel more courageous, so perhaps tonight would be the night you confessed to him.

Around 10 PM, after a two hour long dinner, you had finally made it to the club. It was crowded, more than you expected it to be for a Friday night in the summertime; there were always less students around this time of year.

Hongjoong stood beside you at the bar, taking a sip from his tequila sunrise. “I’ll catch you later, I’m going to talk with San and Seonghwa for a while,” he said, glancing behind you, “you good?”

Whatever Hongjoong was staring at behind you moved and was now in front of you. It was Mingi. “Yeah, all good,” you smiled. Hongjoong was never one to leave you alone in a club, so when he saw Mingi approaching, he took it as an opportunity to not only bond with his brothers more, but give you and Mingi some time with just the two of you. He knew of your feelings for one another, which was to be expected, but he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to spill the secret. 

“Having fun?” Mingi sang, leaning against the bar on his elbows. When he did this, he purposefully made sure it was a bit closer to you.

“I am,” you admitted, sipping at your cocktail, “are you?”

“For the most part, yeah,” he said honestly, “I think I’m getting a little peopled-out at this point, though.”

You laughed. “Then why are you talking to me, hm?”

“You’re an exception.” He waved the bartender over to order a drink. “Rum and coke, please.”

“It’s on me,” you inserted, sliding a ten to the bartender, “keep the change.”

“You didn’t have to pay,” Mingi blushed, now plopping himself in the bar stool beside you so he was more level with you.

“Don’t mention it,” you said, “it’s your birthday, after all.”

The bartender returned quickly with the drink, Mingi politely nodding and muttering a thank you to him. He turned to you as he took a sip, “Well, I appreciate it. Thank you for coming, really.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

There was comfortable silence that fell over the two of you as you quietly enjoyed your drinks together. Heat radiated between your shoulders that were mere millimetres apart from touching. After a few moments, Mingi leaned in closer towards you so his lips were now hovering over your ear. 

“Let’s dance a bit, yeah?” He whispered.

You allowed yourself to fall into his touch, his hand gently guiding you through the crowd of people. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him so that your bodies were flush against one another. You could feel him getting harder through his pants, and it only made you want to tease him more. Smirking, you turned your body so your ass was against him, beginning to sway slowly and seductively to the music. You heard a groan from him, chuckling quietly to pretend you didn’t hear anything. As time went by, you felt his grip on you become stronger, and his hunger growing. You weren’t far behind. 

He leaned over and whispered, “Do you want to get out of here?”

You squirmed within his arms, his deep cadence sending shockwaves through your body. You took a few moments before answering, but you felt a sudden rush of confidence and impulse to be completely blunt. “Mingi,” you started, turning to face him, “I just need you to know that I like you, and I absolutely want to get the fuck out of here with you right now and you know what else?”

“What’s that?” Mingi responded slyly. He could sense where this was going.

“I want to fuck.”

Mingi was a bit surprised by your straightforwardness, but soon darkened his eyes at your confession. Biting his lip, he pulled you even closer, closing any remaining gap between the two of you, “Seems like you just read my mind,” he chuckled before kissing you.

The taxi ride home was a blur as the two of you were completely distracted by one another, making out in the backseat much to the driver’s dismay. At least you kept it quiet. Once you arrived at the house, it didn’t take long before Mingi had you pressed up against the front door after stumbling inside, tongue prodding open your lips and slipping it across your teeth. Since everyone else was still at the club, you had the entire house to yourselves.

“Where do you want it?” Mingi asked between kisses, “we have so many options.”

You giggled as you bit down on his lip, a moan erupting from him. “I think the kitchen would be fun, then your bedroom.”

“I like the sound of that,” he growled before picking you up and carrying you into the kitchen. You kept your legs wrapped around his waist and hands around the nape of his neck as he placed you down on the countertop. He moved his lips to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as you wriggled beneath him in pleasure. “Mingi,” you exhaled, dropping your arms to his back to dig your nails into him.

“I love it when you say my name like that,” he groaned, “but I need to hear it louder.”

You inhaled sharply as you felt his hands slip under your dress, pushing aside your panties so he could reach your clit. He began to make small circles, teasing the entrance every now and then to get you wetter.

“Fuck,” you yelped, feeling one of his fingers enter you. Your breath was heavy, soft moans dripping from your lips as he added a second finger, then a third.

“Say my name again, baby girl,” Mingi growled, pressing against your g-spot, “get loud for me.”

“Mingi!” you screamed, allowing yourself to move closer to your peak. “F-fuck,” you stuttered, feeling unable to hold back anymore. With one final pump of Mingi’s fingers, you felt yourself unravel, your orgasm spilling out onto his hands. He knelt down to drink you up, lightly kissing your sensitive nub and the surrounding area as he did. 

You were shaking the entire trip from the kitchen up to his bedroom, causing him to chuckle at the sight of your pleasure and feeling you convulse in his arms. Once he laid you down on the bed, he gently helped you remove your clothing and you did the same for him. You stared at him in awe as his bare body came into view. You’d been dreaming of this moment for months now, and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” Mingi asked softly, crawling above you to align himself with your entrance. Biting your lip, you nodded. You let out an elongated moan as Mingi sank into you, he himself humming in ecstasy. “You’re so tight, fuck!”

“No need to go easy on me,” you mewled, eyes rolling from the feeling of his hard cock brushing against every inch of your walls. 

Mingi laughed on tempo with a hard thrust, a scream escaping you. “Be patient, we’ll get there.” You couldn’t help but just allow yourself to scream and cry without a break. Feeling him fill you entirely sent electricity through your body, the pleasure becoming nearly unbearable. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” Mingi pounded into you, voice cracking with a moan, “letting me fill your pussy like this.” You gripped his hair and pulled hard, a loud cry spilling from your mouth as he began to pick up his pace. He could feel your arousal growing, the squelches of your slick and the slaps of his pelvis against yours filling up the room. “I’m going to come, s-shit,” he stuttered, eyes rolling back as he began to drop himself onto you, losing his balance from his incoming orgasm. He growled loudly, waiting until the last possible second to pull himself out and spread his white ribbons all over your stomach.

You managed to fit your hand between the small gap of his hips and yours, circling your clit as you watched him come on you. You bite your lip and moaned as you felt his hot seed on your stomach, reaching another orgasm. Mingi quickly gathered enough strength to drop himself to your dripping cunt once again so you could come in his mouth again. You cried when he replaced your fingers with his, pushing his tongue into your seeping hole.

“G-god, Mingi!” You yelled, gripping the sheets so tightly that your knuckles started to turn purple, “I’m so sensitive.”

“Come again for me,” Mingi demanded, “be a good girl for me, hmm?”

“I-I don’t know-”

“Come. For. Me.”

You thrashed your body at the feeling of his tongue pressing against your g-spot whilst his fingers played with your throbbing clit. “FUCK!” You screamed again, shaking continuously at the intensity of your third orgasm. 

“That’s it,” you heard Mingi chuckle, “that’s my girl.” Mingi slowly moved himself over to the side of you, allowing you to come down from your high before pulling you closer to him for cuddling. “You did such a good job for me,” he cooed, kissing your cheek before nuzzling his head into your shoulder. 

“Mmmm,” you hummed, completely fucked out. You allowed yourself to slip into sleep in his arms.

When you awoke the next morning, Mingi was nowhere to be found. You couldn’t deny you felt hurt by this, but before you would come to any conclusions, you’d search around the house first. Once you were dressed, you made your way around the house, asking his brothers if they had seen you if it wasn’t a place you were able to check yourself.

“Sorry, love,” Hongjoong frowned, patting your head, “I’m not sure where he is.”

Your heart sank. It’s happening again, you thought, remembering all of the times in the past you’d been left alone after sleeping with someone. You knew Mingi had a bit of a reputation, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as some people made it out to be. You knew enough about him to know he wasn’t as much of an asshole like people said he was. Though, now you were starting to question that…

You decided to text him, hoping for some sort of answer.

You: i didn’t see you when you woke up. the boys said they haven’t, either. where are you? are you ok?

When you didn’t receive a response for nearly three hours, you decided to check to see if he had even read it yet.

Read at 10:24. That was only ten minutes after you sent the message.

You tried not to worry. Maybe he opened it then had to go do something? You tried to reason with yourself. But it was no use, your anxiety had kicked in. What the fuck?

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ 30

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,855ish

Summary: You and Logan still struggle with your relationship. The two of you make a decision to help ease the struggles.

Warnings: Emotional, Angst, Injuries

Notes: crossing my fingers that you guys will be okay with this chapter...

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

“So, how are you and Logan doing?” Ororo asked one morning at breakfast.

“Fine,” you responded with a shrug. “We have a lot of work to do, but we’re working through it.”

“He does seem a little more on edge around the kids, as do you.”

You sighed. “I’ve actually been thinking… I think Logan and I should go away for a while.”

“Wait, you two want to leave?”

“I haven’t brought it up to Logan yet, and it wouldn’t be forever… we just need a space where we can focus on just the two of us. We’re constantly thrown every which way with classes, missions, and world-ending scenarios. Logan and I need to simply be us for a while and figure out what that means.”

“I… do whatever you have to do.” Ororo stood up. “I’ve got a class to teach.”

“Ororo, please stay and talk.” 

But she slipped out of the room. You sighed, hiding your head in your hands. That was the position Logan found you in. He quietly came up behind you and rested your hands on your shoulders. He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered against your neck.

You leaned back into him, looking up at him. “I made Ororo upset.”

“What did you do?” You sighed, looking back down. “Hey.” He sat down beside you. “I thought we were doing better with the talking shit.” He hooked a finger under your chin and guided your face to look at him. “Tell me.”

“I told Ororo about something I was going to talk to you about.”

“And that was…?”

“About leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“I was thinking that we need some time to ourselves. To figure things out and just be us.”

“But this is your home. Would you really be okay leaving it?”

“Logan, you’re my home. And you were long before this was.”

Logan studied your gaze and could see that you were telling the truth, but he worried that after a while, he wouldn’t be enough. You at least had people here, other mutants, to lean on when the two of you were struggling. If it’s just you and him? Then you’d have no one. Logan was okay with that for himself but not for you.

“I thought that we’ve been doing well here,” Logan said, trying to see if he could get you to change your mind. 

His words took you back. “You want to stay? You’re constantly trying to run.”

“I just want you to really think about it, sweetheart. I don’t want you to leave and then regret it.”

“You think that I’d regret being with you?”

“That’s not what I said—“

You pulled away, standing up. “But it’s what you meant, right?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He stood up as well, growing angry. 

“Do you not want this long-term, Logan? Am I just your person until a new, better one comes along?”

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

“Morning! Oh—“ Bobby stopped in the doorway. “I can see that this is not a good time, so I—“

“No, Bobby, we’re done here,” you told him, rushing off.

“Y/N!” Logan yelled after you, hurrying to follow you. He followed you into the gardens. “Now, who’s running?!”

“Oh, please,” you spun around. “You’ve wanted to run since the moment you got here!”

“Yes, but I stayed for you!”

“Oh, I feel so honored.”

“You know what, maybe I should go. Since it’s clear that I’m unable to hit the high expectations you have set for me.”

“You are the reason for those high expectations.”

“Ugh! I’m not that person anymore! And I’m sick and tired of feeling like shit all the time about that!”

Logan’s hand flew out as he was talking, his claws accidentally unsheathing. Before either of you knew it, the claws were cutting against your cheek. You gasped, stumbling back as your hand came up to hold your cheek.

“Oh my God,” he sputtered. He hid his claws before reaching for you. “Sweetheart—“ You stepped back, breaking both of your hearts. Logan’s fingers were tingling. If you didn’t let him try to fix this—if you didn’t let him touch you, Logan would never trust himself to touch someone again. “Please let me—“

“No,” you shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. “Just… leave me alone.”

You rushed off back into the mansion. You knew that Logan didn’t mean to hurt you, but you needed time and space. 

Logan was frozen in his spot. The high emotions had gotten the best of both of you, but especially his claws. He had hurt you, and he was fully conscious for it. This was different than him having a nightmare. This was much worse.

~~~

You had sat in front of the mirror, watching the three cuts along your cheek heal into scars. Tears streamed down your face the entire time while you thought of Logan. Both of you were in the wrong here, and this was a complete accident. You were thinking about what to say to Logan when you started to hear drawers slamming in Logan’s room. Rushing out of your room, you looked into his room to see him stuffing his clothes into a bag.

“What are you doing?” You whispered.

Logan spun to face you. Slowly, his hand reached out to brush against the scars on your cheek, but he didn’t let his hand actually make contact.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” his voice was completely broken, tears lining his eyes. “I never wanted to be the one to hurt you… yet I keep doing it.” He shook his head and got back to packing. “I have to go.”

“What?”

“I can’t keep hurting you. I can’t be the person you need… The person I was before…”

“And this will make it better? I’ve messed up in this relationship, too. This is not just on you. I’m sorry for making it seem like I’m forcing you to be that person again. I know that you’ve changed, so I have, and that’s okay. I still love you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Stop that.” You slipped in between him and the dresser. He kept his head down, not willing to make eye contact. “Fine. Tell me you don't love me, and I’ll let you walk away. But you have to look me in the eye and be honest with me.”

You nibbled your bottom lip as you waited for Logan to make the next move. You could tell that there was a war waging in his mind. His eyes suddenly snapped to yours.

“I… I can’t do that,” he murmured. “I love you.”

You quickly pulled him by his shirt to kiss him. He dropped his bag and slid his hands to the small of your back.

“If you really want to leave,” you whispered against his lips, “then you have to take me with you.”

“Okay,” he replied. 

~~~

“It’s not forever,” you said as you hugged Ororo. “We’ll stay in contact and visit. Logan and I just need to figure things out.”

“I’ll miss you,” Ororo responded, pulling back. “I’ll miss the both of you.”

“You ready?” Logan asked, coming up from the truck he had just packed. 

He had already said goodbye to Marie and Bobby before packing the truck, knowing that you would need some time with Ororo.

“I think so,” you responded. “See you later, Ororo.”

“See you,” she replied.

You took Logan’s hand, and he led you to the truck. He opened the door and helped you in before going around to the driver’s seat. You turned back and watched as the mansion grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Logan placed a hand on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze.

“Are you okay?” He asked, clearly concerned. “We can turn back around.”

You laced your fingers through his and scooted closer to Logan, very thankful for the bench seat. “I’m okay,” you told him. You kissed his shoulder. “Where are we headed?”

“I have a place in mind.”

“Care to tell?”

“Not yet. Why don’t you get some rest?”

“You sure?”

He leaned over and kissed your head. “I’m sure.”

You hummed in content as you rested your head on his shoulder and let yourself relax. Logan’s lifted up in a barely-there smile as you tried your best to cuddle into him. 

~~~

You didn’t bother to ask Logan where the two of you were headed again. You kept yourself occupied with books and naps when you weren’t talking to Logan. It was already proving to be worth it, as the farther the two of you drove from the mansion, the less tension there was. Logan insisted on driving the whole way, and so far you’ve had to beg him to stop to sleep in motels for the three nights you’ve been on the road so far.

It didn’t shock you when the two of you crossed over into Canada. You figured that Logan would always feel a call back there. The shock factor was later as the two of you drove up an old, familiar road in the Canadian Rockies.

“Logan, where—“

“Just patience, okay?” He cut you off. “I’ll explain soon.”

You simply nodded, focusing on the trees you were passing out the window. Your heart started pounding the closer you got to the top. Before you knew it, the small house appeared and Logan was pulling up to it. It looked just how you remembered it. You were too busy staring that you didn’t realize Logan had gotten out of the truck and walked around to your side. He opened the door and took your hand.

“Come on,” he urged, tugging you out of the truck. “Let’s go inside.”

“Inside?” You repeated. “It’s probably a disaster. We—“ Your eyes widened as Logan pulled you inside. The place was clean, updated, and furnished. “What? How?”

“Charles. We had a conversation about when Jean died, and I got part of my memories back. He knew that we would need a place to start over and found where we used to live. Before I could stop it, he had people here fixing it up.”

You let go of his hand and began slowly walking around the house. Your hands gently trailed against the walls and updated pieces of furniture. 

“You and Charles…” you breathed out. “You did all this?”

“Is it okay?” Logan was clearly nervous. “We can go somewhere else. I just know that this was the—“ You shut him up with a kiss.

“This is perfect. Thank you. But know that I don't expect you to be the same person as before. Time has changed both of us… are you okay with being here?”

“Yes. I even already got a job as a lumberjack.”

“Oh, got the old job back?”

Logan chuckled. “Somethin’ like that. I start in a week.”

“So I have a week of you all to myself?”

“A whole week.” He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Can we try out the new bed?”

A devious smirk formed over Logan’s lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[muffinsin]

Hii! I'm a new anon! I love your work, and so I decided to throw in a sugestion myself, as I noticed you hadn't done this already

So, I was thinking about either the sisters during their ovulation period, orrr maybe gp! Sisters with a reader who has it

I'm not sure if I good for all the rules, hehe...

-💜 anon

Hi, hon! Welcome to this blog/to being an anon! :)

Why not both? ;P Let’s get into it🙌

Masterlists

Bela

Bela during her ovulation period

Now, having a bit of a breeding kink, and knowing her body well enough to know just when she’s ovulating, this is certainly an…interesting time period

It’s certainly the time she’s in the mood most often, as well as when her horniness seems to- reach new heights

The only problem is that this ovulating period is when she’s the most fertile, too

And being quite fertile already, this occasionally becomes, difficult, perhaps, if you happen to have a cock

Otherwise, there’s little downsides to this period of time, really

Bela’s all on you, trying to very hard to act collected, calm even

She won’t just pounce on you, no, she deems herself far above such things

And still, during the times she’s ovulating, it’s most likely you happen to catch her naked

Often, she’ll act casual about this

An unlocked door as she bathes, just enough foam to hide her body, just enough of her poking out to tease you

Her stomach exposed when she stretches and your shirt rises up, her nipples hard and poking against the fabric

Her body on display when she changes, taking her sweet, sweet time

Her thighs on you when she sits on your lap, kissing, humming, gently grinding down

G!P Bela when you’re ovulating

Now, as calm and collected she can be, or likes to think she is, this fades away almost entirely when it’s you who is ovulating

When your blood is even sweeter than normal

Your scent, sweet, almost luring her in

Your body, pleading her to plow you

It isn’t often that Bela gets feral. This is one of the times

And yes, of course, she doesn’t want you to get pregnant when the two of you aren’t planning for a child

But she has plenty self control

And she’s plenty capable of having fun without cumming inside of you

After all, she finds you look excellent with her creamy cum splattered across your stomach and thighs

When you’re ovulating, it takes but a single look and plea for her to pounce

She’ll hold you to her, drink from your wrist or your neck while she fucks you

Gentle, at first, harder, in time

She wants you to feel every bit of her, wants to ensure you can feel just how capable she is of breeding you during this time of the month

She’ll never take too much from you, of course, will only drink from you as an appetizer, your body being the main course

Oh, and how she loves to devour you

Cassandra

Cassandra during her ovulation period

Some would think Cassandra might be a little kinder when ovulating

Those, however, would be deadly wrong…

When ovulating, she’s more violent- and in the mood- than ever

She likes it rough, wants it multiple times a day, usually

She’s bloodthirsty and insatiable

Her breasts ache, and the discomfort only adds to her bad mood

At the same time, when you massage her breasts to ease the pain- or maybe add to it- it only riles her up more, and more, and more

Unlike Bela, she has no qualms about appearing bold, though

In fact, it’s likely she’ll pull you right from your work multiple times during this period of time, demanding you “help her out” or “let her take it out on you”

Really, both options have her be quite demanding

Ideally, she’ll use toys when in the bedroom, perhaps even take turns on who gets to use them on who

But, sometimes, she just can’t quite wait that long

And as such, you’ve often tugged along, held and pulled by her or even tugged and carried along by her swarm

She’ll drag you into the nearest unoccupied room, smirking mischievously

Needless to say, you’ll spend a significant amount of time on your knees in front of her, then

She is, after all, quite insatiable

G!P Cassandra when you’re ovulating

Much like her sister, Cassandra has…less control over her need when you’re ovulating

She’s a little bit of a bloodhound, capable of picking up every little thing

Especially as it comes to you, that is

She knows when you’re on your period, when you’re about to get on your period, just after

She’s fully aware of when you’re ovulating and she insists;

Your blood tastes sweeter, too

Uncaring of whether or not she might accidentally get you pregnant, Cassandra will be very eager to “help you out” whenever you need her to, and allow her to

She can take you for hours, and fully plans on doing so, giving you little moments and breaks to eat and regain your strength before she dives in again

She assures you; it’s your pheromones, sweet, far sweeter than normal, almost tempting her

How could she resist?

Still, she’ll take great care of you after

She’ll keep you in her arms, hold you tight and kiss you gently

She loves you so much

Daniela

Daniela during the ovulation period

When ovulating, Daniela has certain…cravings and behaviour

Generally these things rather easy to deal with

She craves sweet things,

so you retrieve all sweet dishes from the kitchens for her

She feels light stomach pains,

so you rub her stomach for her and kiss her, and hold her, and make her forget all about her pain

And she loves it!

And, she has increased libido

Who are you to deny her?

While being very playful and getting in a needy mood quite often, all reaches its peak when she’s ovulating

She’ll seek you out daily, likely even multiple times a day, whining, moaning, or squirming in anticipation already

So long as you can’t get her pregnant, you’re set, really. Otherwise…well, she is at the highest risk of being impregnated. And she absolutely demands you to cum inside when she’s this needy and- perhaps unfortunately- this fertile

Otherwise, she’ll want to be pampered even during sex

Kisses, fingers, lips, your tongue, to be held and touched just right at the same time

G!P Daniela when you’re ovulating

Daniela is eager on most days,

Eager, yes…

But when you’re ovulating…when you’re just so perfect to be bred and played with

She’s not just eager. She’s desperate

Now, not always does that translate into something sexual

Often, when you’re ovulating, you find her right on top of you too

Curled up, sleeping soundly, her flies buzzing so loud it could even be mistaken as purring

Content, happy, high on the sweet taste of your blood and scent

When you do let her drink your blood during this time, it gets her very energetic, a little like feeding candy to a child before bedtime or consuming caffeine just before trying to sleep

She’ll be up all night, even try to get you to play with her, or cuddle at the very least, and eventually allow you to sleep while she runs off to bother her sisters

When you do express the wish to feel her, to let her grab you and fill you, she’s all on board

She can go for very long, over and over again, especially during this time

She whines; she can’t help it, really

You’re irresistible

[sarahreesbrennan]

I think this is a lovely addition and I am so glad you feel that way. I hoped some people would! I knew not everybody would.

Under a cut to spare your dash, friends, some thoughts about villainy…

I don’t know that we differ in substance, though perhaps in style. I’d say that I agree with you… but it’s complicated.

Long Live Evil poses many questions about the nature of villainy, who is assigned villainy and who gets the sympathy and understanding. It’s about the experience of being assigned villainy, but also understanding the assignment.

Rae is absolutely going through something so awful. She is very understandably angry about it. Indeed, most of the main characters of Long Live Evil have been THROUGH it. That’s part of why they’re seen as villains - though this perception also exists on an axis of gender, class, race, sexuality, disability. These things affect how they’re perceived and how they’re treated and how they act, and there is almost no way to disentangle cause and effect.

‘Under the present brutal and primitive conditions on this planet, every person you meet should be regarded as one of the walking wounded. we have never seen a man or woman not slightly deranged by either anxiety or grief. we have never seen a totally sane human being.’ - Robert Anton Wilson

This world hurts people. And then it can be very harsh to hurt people. We’re blamed for our wounds.

I agree Rae is a more interesting protagonist to me. That’s why I picked her. But there are very, very popular protagonists in fiction I find absolutely dull as ditchwater. (Not saying I find Alice dull. I love Alice.) I’m still interested in why audiences like them, and as I would like to have many readers too, I think about why things are popular a lot. I learn rules… sometimes simply that I may break them.

You might think Rae’s plight would engender sympathy: and for some it does. For many it doesn’t. And I knew that would be the case. I’ve seen it happen in real life many times.

—Someone in my close circle of friends publicly made fun of me for my ‘terrible anger issues’ at a time I was literally too sick to walk and barely able to breathe. I know that person thinks she’s a good person who was good to me.

—this is a very common thing to happen to chronically ill people. Most of my mentees, especially my younger mentees, have been abandoned by many friends who would all confidently state that this is the patient’s fault for being a bad person.

—one woman I know had her ex accurately recount all her behaviour to his new girlfriend without adding the reason why she ceased intimacy, got irritable and didn’t help around the house.

Sick people are legitimately hard to be around sometimes, and they get blamed for being so because it’s easier to blame a person than a disease. Other people don’t want to be the villain, so they make you the villain.

And the making of a villain is an interesting thing to me.

Rae being sick and Rae being perceived as evil and embracing that perception are inextricable. As a society, we are not truly sympathetic to victims. I knew it would be this way, but I still found myself shocked by the way some readers responded to her - she’s so evil that bitch got Key killed, she’s not even evil enough so she’s something pathetic that can be dismissed, she’s cringe because she uses humour as a coping mechanism, everything is her fault, it’s disgusting how much this formerly emaciated by illness woman talks about her boobs. But then, did Katniss in the Hunger Games get as much sympathy for literally starving as Peeta did for having his feelings hurt? (Note: Peeta also had many legitimate problems and I really like both characters.) And then again, isn’t feeling any kind of way about a character a compliment?

This is one of the reasons Rae is a woman. Society is set up to dismiss women’s pain, and discourage empathy with them. (And yet at the same time, we can’t demand anybody likes any specific character, regardless of gender. We can only observe patterns.)

And listen, I am not equating being a gorgeous talented famous artist with being chronically ill, but there is a phenomenon my friend who’s a psychologist has observed, which is that audiences get tired of famous women after a certain number of years (seven at most) and begin to criticise their looks or say they’re annoying or problematic.

Anne Hathaway and Jennifer Lawrence, both relatively inoffensive women, just had to basically go away for a while, until audiences were ready to go ‘wait, is Anne Hathaway talented and beautiful?’ (Yes she has been the whole time.)

The only woman who I’ve seen not have to slink into oblivion for several years when the tide of public opinion turned is, actually, Taylor Swift - there’s a piece online called ‘Darling, Villain, Victor’ which covers this very well. I like Taylor’s songs because a lot of them are narratives. And it was interesting to me to see the way she engaged with the narrative - going ‘okay yes I eat men for breakfast but also they flee from me, I’m drowning in diamonds, I’m covered in snakes, I’m wearing the evil makeup but also the eyeliner is running down my face because I am HYSTERICAL’ - and people looked stupid for saying the thing she’d already said about herself, outsized. Someone who also does this is Dolly Parton. ‘Yes I am everything you say about me. Now what?’

I did find that inspiring. I did want to claim, for my vipers and myself, the beauty and freedom of that ‘Now what?’ Anger is how we survive. We will be blamed for anger and for survival. Okay. Now what?

Another inspiration is the Interview with the Vampire quote ‘evil is a point of view.’ Not one of the Time of Iron characters think of themselves as people who enjoy cruelty for cruelty’s sake. Sure, some glory in justified vengeance, but that’s okay, right…?

To be able to see yourself as the villain in someone else’s story is, in some ways, an act of radical empathy. It’s an early thing Key says that makes him fun to me - that he’s like oh yes, I am evil. He’s very clear-eyed about the fact that, say, many of the people at the glass blowers’ guild (relatively innocent pleasant individuals) were from their point of view flat out murdered by a homicidal maniac for no reason whatsoever. Still when he tells his story, Rae is sympathetic - and it is also the tale of an abused child and a pitilessly corrupt society.

Key isn’t human. And he’s not a sociopath. Key is a god. And actually, it’s considered morally acceptable for gods to raze cities or worlds for sinning, and even to kill their children. But if a god thought he was human and evil, then what? (Was Athena traumatised by her birth?)

Yet another inspiration for me is Congreve. ‘I love her with her faults. Nay, I love her for her faults.’ I did want the vipers to not just be misunderstood darlings but to commit crimes and have serious personality problems.

Does Rae deserve more sympathy than she gets? Sure. At the same time, I really wanted her to have hubris. I refer to Greek plays a lot - where the deus ex machina was invented, art designed for the audience to be rocked and purged by emotion - and it’s this classic failing, to be arrogant and think you can avoid destiny and get this outsize punishment for it. (And people haaate women to be arrogant, and I knew they would find that annoying about her.) Rae doesn’t want Key or Emer to be hurt, but they are both people of a lower class in her employ, whose lives she knows are only saved in the original narrative by another aristocratic woman - and she deliberately sets out to use them and that does put them in harm’s way. Emer is whipped. Key is whipped twice and killed. Rae is not corporally punished in the same way servants are. But then again, when death looms, what choice does she have? Is she the one ultimately responsible for hurting them? No. But does that mean she bears no responsibility at all, when she made a bargain with them? Do we get to hurt others just because we’re hurt? When is lashing out because of trauma okay, never or always? Well…

It’s tricky to discuss personality flaws, because some characters get more sympathy while others’ faults get magnified. I’ve seen Rae discussed as more privileged than Marius - Lord Marius Valerius, second-most powerful man in the kingdom, in possession of literal superpowers, and uh - very arrogant at times himself. (And I love Marius and he has many very legitimate problems!) They are both flawed people. Very few feel villainous to themselves. Very little of what the people we love do to others feels villainous to us. I will miss Octavian so much as an antagonist, because he was such a great one - never for a moment did he consider he was being anything but heroic, and I do think at bottom he was a very ordinary guy, with an absolutely normal capacity for empathy. Yet all that power and privilege and the empty assurance of others and fame ate him right up. He didn’t ever have to look through anyone else’s eyes, and see himself the villain.

But also, can you look at the abyss, and not be changed? Rae at the start of the story would not be capable of tossing a man off the battlements of a tower into a yawning ravine full of flame with a wild, mocking laugh. But she IS that person by the end - and some of us are with her! It’s a villain origin story, emphasis on origin.

So yes it’s wish fulfilment, and yes it’s about villainy, and about having different perceptions of villainy, and which sins and flaws are forgivable in which people... We all have different perceptions. I am posing the questions, but you may have a different answer than I - if either of us find any answers at all.

Still the questions are worth asking. I do believe that.

Truly, thank you for having sympathy with my viper queen.

I remember reading in one of your blog entries (years ago??) that in the new book you were writing, the main character's *sister* had cancer. Does that mean that Alice was originally the main character of Long Live Evil? Was she going to go into the book to save Rae, instead of Rae going in to save herself?

How extremely kind of you to remember!

No, that was actually a YA murder mystery that I wrote while ill, revised while recovering, and sent out into the world where it died on submission. (Which means we sent it out to about 12 editors and the editor either said no, or said yes and took it to acquisitions - a group of people at the publisher including sales and marketing - and acquisitions said no.)

One editor told me she really wanted and really tried to buy it. Another person who worked in publishing (and has since changed jobs, or I wouldn’t share this) said the response at her acquisitions was - if you like this writer, find the next her (implications about health and youth were made).

I was terrified my agent was going to ditch me too, but she said ‘We’ll sell that one day, for now let’s write the next thing.’

I remember another writer telling me she missed my work that wasn’t a tie-in, and I felt ashamed to tell her it wasn’t that I wasn’t writing other things - it was that I couldn’t publish them.

The tie-ins meanwhile were paying the bills (they still are tbh!) and I was and remain so grateful for them. But I also really loved writing them - especially my Sabrina tie-ins, you don’t forget the first, and it reminded me I want to write horror and poly one day - and how they got me to love and sympathise with so many fandoms.

I see the burnout of caregivers all around me, and I wanted to write the story of one. But maybe I also wanted to take a step back from cancer. I didn’t think I did, at the time. I had a whole lot of things I tried writing before Long Live Evil, and I think some of them were really good. One of my critique partners gave me a lipstick with the same name as someone in the murder mystery. There was a romance novel another critique partner said was her favourite thing I’d ever written. But none had someone with cancer at the heart of the story.

And even though Rae isn’t much like me, maybe I had to start there. You can’t make real magic using someone else’s liver. Maybe I had to wait to be brave enough to use my own liver.

I do get requests for advice on how to cope with rejection of your writing, and I always worried I didn’t have anything else to say, but I suppose my example says - if you can, (and I know it’s hard, you feel so terrible at writing and so useless) (and you love the work you’ve done so much and you don’t see a way forward to loving the next thing) (but still, if you possibly can) write the next thing.

Even if the first thing sells, you’ll want the next thing one day. Writing the next thing is more writing practise, so it’ll make you better. Write the next thing.

Ultimately I’m really glad Long Live Evil was my comeback book. I think it needed to be. It took the time it took.

But maybe it was a shade of that past book (where the heroine’s sister with cancer was six, so not much like any of the Time of Iron characters) that made me think of the YA version of this book, which I always had in my mind as something I was intentionally hewing away from - a more straightforward book, a book that might have sold better - in which shy reader Alice was the hero. She’s the one with the suggestive hero name - Alice through the looking glass - the heroine looks, and the more projectable-upon personality. She’d get called annoying less often (though still some, because she’s a girl), partly because she is (with love, Rae knows I’m right) a genuinely less annoying person. Much kinder, much sweeter, and much better at in-depth reading! Her sister being in trouble would’ve been a backstory, a catalyst point, and - you’re totally right - a great motivation for her to get the Flower. Saving a family member is a much more sympathetic and heroic motivation than saving yourself and one I do love (the Hunger Games, Labyrinth, Mahy’s the Changeover, and I write it a lot!). I think Snarky While Tragically Dying Rae would’ve been a pretty popular side character, too. I think it would’ve been a good book! Just not mine.

I love your question because I love thinking about POV, and all the decisions that are the building blocks of a story. To me, the Alice centric Time of Iron is a version that exists. As are several versions of the Lia centric Time of Iron. And versions centring other characters exist to me, too. (Eric, absolutely.)

Speaking of POV musing, I think Rahela the wicked stepsister featured more in the musical than the book. If the Time of Iron series ever became a TV show (and at this point in time I think I’d rather a movie because it wouldn’t… get cancelled…) and I got to write it (don’t know why I would…) I would start with the beginnings for three characters about to go on a journey to somewhere strange to them: Key in the Cauldron, Rae in the hospital, and Vasilisa in the icelands. There are so many possibilities! And I really wanted the sense that there were so many possibilities, too.

But I wanted the chronically ill one to be the centre of the story, and for it to be her villain origin story, and to ask a lot of questions (hence a lot of villains!) about who gets villainised and why. And I thought hers, to my mind, would be the most fun of all the possible stories.

So that’s the one I made. But Long Live Evil has a lot of origins. Thank you for remembering one of them! I don’t think I would’ve dared tell the story, if things hadn’t worked out for me (so far, fingers crossed).

And I also tell it to be clear my publisher was taking a RISK with me and Long Live Evil, and I really appreciate that, and I’m so happy it’s worked out for them (again so far, early days, fingers crossed, etc).

I hope some writers - whether in the process of submission, rejection or making the choices that are the building blocks of story - find this helpful, and some readers find it interesting.

Let this be one of the universes in which your story is told.

[perpetualcontrolleddrowning]

Moshang Fic - Part 1

half of something else

JRaylin441

Summary: Tianlang-Jun comes to visit the Northern Desert Palace. Tianlang-Jun is very bored. Tianlang-Jun finds a way to entertain himself.

Written for: Gotcha for Gaza prompt "on behalf of gusufan please tag them! I would like a post-canon Moshang get together fic. sfw or nsfw doesn't matter :)" from boomfanfic

Content Warnings: None for this chapter (that I know of), but it will be explicit in future

Read it on ao3 here (x)

Tianlang-Jun arrives at the Northern Palace on a beautiful and perfect summer day, which is funny, because he's about to ruin Shang Qinghua's whole life.

Shang Qinghua has an Overarching To Do List that is ever-evolving and extensive. There are arrangements to be made, banquets to organize, appropriate guest rooms to appoint. There is color-coding. There are sublists on sublists, organized by immediacy and location within the Demon Realm or Cultivation Sects and a thousand other subheadings that only Shang Qinghua is able to fully track.

When someone like Tianlang-Jun arrives, it has to jump to the top of the priority list. This is the father of Luo Binghe, one of the only full-blooded Heavenly Demons left alive, and initially created to be the only person capable of challenging Shang Qinghua's son in a fight, at his full power. Bing-ge is fairly easy to deal with, these days, now that Cucumber-bro has come along and turned him into an eager little tradwife. There isn't really a need for him to have some arch-nemesis/father in the world.

Which leaves Tianlang-Jun, local chaotic neutral god-level demon, just wandering around without a purpose or plot hook. He can do things like arrive, unannounced, in a Demon king's court and expect to be welcomed. Maybe he will be kind and perfectly accepting of the fact that he has to wait for several minutes for things to go his way. Maybe he will kill every demon in the palace out of boredom, like a toddler with a tantrum.

It was fun to write characters like this when it was just in a book! They keep things interesting! They're helpful when he needs something to happen and can't figure out how to motivate his characters to do it! They're way less fun to deal with when Shang Qinghua has somehow become the person in charge of managing the logistics and fallout of those interactions, in both the human and demon realms. Because, apparently, no one else is masochistic enough to want a job like that.

This is not the kind of masochism he enjoys! If he thought it would make any difference, he would be taking a baseball bat to the System's smug little screen right now!

"This King welcomes Tianlang-Jun to the Northern Desert Palace and hopes that he will stay as a welcome guest for as long as he wishes."

"This humble one is honored to accept your hospitality."

Shang Qinghua skids into the throne room with what feels like a cartoon dust cloud behind him. Mobei-Jun is only now wrapping up the grandiose and official greeting of Tianlang-Jun before the whole court, because he is a very good boy who has been trained well by his closest advisor and knows how to stall for time when Shang Qinghua tells him to.

They are engaging in shallow salutes toward each other, since it's a little unclear exactly what Tianlang-Jun's ranking is now, as someone who could wipe the floor with Mobei-Jun, someone who had a long-standing alliance with the Mobei clan before he was imprisoned under a mountain for two and a half decades, someone who no longer has any official titles.

Shang Qinghua, of course, ranks leagues below either of them, and drops into a low salute as soon as his feet have found purchase in their place to the side of Mobei-Jun's throne. He can feel dark red eyes (why did he think that was a good color for a protagonist's eyes? Why did he need to give that eye color to the badass big bad demon??? They're terrifying!) lingering on him for a moment, evaluating him before easily moving on, just as every other powerful person in this world tends to do when confronted with his trembling mousiness. It is often very convenient to be overlooked, and Shang Qinghua never (really, never ever) feels bitter about the fact that, in a world where literally everyone around him is a badass (he knows they are, he wrote them that way), he gets stuck in this body.

"My servants have prepared our finest rooms for you." Bold of Mobei-Jun to go ahead and make that claim when Tianlang-Jun arrived not a quarter shichen ago. Sure, yeah, just assume that Shang Qinghua has it all together and handled. Everyone else does. "Please do not hesitate to reach out to my advisor, Shang Qinghua, should Tianlang-Jun find himself in need of anything." Shang Qinghua taught him that customer-service line, back when Mobei-Jun was more wont to stare in stony silence at any visitor to his court. He has no right to be this irritated about all the work still being foisted off onto him now. He sowed these seeds. He's reaping now. He reminds himself of this and does not allow his hands to clench into fists. Not in public like this. There is a ticking knot in the muscle behind his shoulder blade, instead, that is winching ever tighter and more painful. This has been true for many years.

Tianlang-Jun's eyes pass over him again, another assessment, now that Shang Qinghua has been shown to hold such a high rank. This is normal too. Shang Qinghua likes that they underestimate him. It makes his job easier.

"If Tianlang-Jun would honor this lowly one by following him, this Shang Qinghua will show him to his rooms."

"Of course," Tianlang-Jun replies, jovially, as if he has run into an old friend on a walk rather than arrived unannounced to another demon lord's court. Shang Qinghua feels himself cringing at the blatant character trope of it all, the lackadaisical OP demon lord. Fuck you, past version of Shang Qinghua. There is no excuse in not knowing that your actions would have consequences.

He cringes and he grovels and he guides Tianlang-Jun to the rooms that he and every member of Mobei-Jun's staff that wasn't already in court for the greeting just dropped everything to put together. They look spotless and prepared in the same way they would if this had been a pre-planned dignitary visit, because Shang Qinghua is fucking good at his job, not that anyone notices.

"Before you go, Qinghua," Tianlang-Jun calls, already calling him in a way that is far too familiar with nothing to be done about it. "Are there any human novels in this palace? I have fallen out of the practice of reading with my imprisonment, but would not mind a chance to rediscover an old hobby."

"Of course, Tianlang-Jun," Shang Qinghua murmurs, bowing low enough that his nose could almost scrape the ground. "This one will obey."

He backs out of the room without rising from his bow, feeling the panic of this new task settle in the shaking of his bones, into the knot in his shoulder, alongside all the rest of his endless Overarching To Do List. Sure. Yeah, he'll get right on that. Because of course this is the best use of his time. The smile on his face is a rictus of customer service.

As soon as Shang Qinghua is out in the hallway and away from the range of heavenly demonic hearing, he grabs the first demon that respects any of his orders by their collar and sends them to start arranging a greeting banquet for that night. He grabs another and sends them along to rearrange the schedule for court the next day, since they were actually planning to receive some dignitaries tomorrow and will need to shift them to later in the day so as to not disrespect their new guest. He doesn't pick a demon to go and update his tracking of Tianlang-Jun's location, since no one else in this palace is supposed to know about that. He doesn't pick a demon to go and get the novels either, because he doesn't trust a single demon in this realm to know what the best options for human literature are and, unfortunately, he knows exactly the sort of thing that Tianlang-Jun would enjoy.

Because he wrote him.

*~*~*

Mobei-Jun does not enjoy banquets. It is easier, now that he is king and has no further aspirations for promotion, because he no longer has to spend his time doing something Qinghua calls "net-working" and can generally sit in stoic silence. Even so, he would prefer to dine in his own quarters, with Qinghua nervously chattering at length about all he has done and still has to do that day.

The food is prepared in the traditional demonic way. Qinghua does not like the raw meat, or the carnivorous diet of many in the court. Mobei-Jun spent an hour in the kitchens prior to this preparing hand-pulled noodles for him, so that he will have something to eat as well. He had captured and killed the beast used for the meat in the noodle dish the day before, also for Qinghua. He had not shown much of a reaction, when the prize was presented to him. Merely gestured for Mobei-Jun to hand it off to a servant to be butchered.

When the banquet begins, he gestures to one of the servants to bring the noodle dish from the kitchen out to Qinghua. No one dares to disobey when it comes to Qinghua's happiness. They know better.

When the steaming noodle dish is placed before him, Qinghua looks down at it in surprise before taking a darting glance in Mobei-Jun's direction. It is good, that he knows so immediately who is taking the time to cook for him. All things are as they should be.

"The honorable Mobei-Jun had no need to go through such trouble for me." Ah. All things are as they should be, except for the lounging heavenly demon seated to his side. Mobei-Jun hates when he must entertain guests, particularly ones that are powerful enough to defeat him in combat. When Junshang is visiting, it is not so bad, because he has known Mobei-Jun long enough to not be surprised by his silence. Also, he is usually so preoccupied with his human consort that there is no need to entertain him either way.

"You are a guest." This is what is expected, when an important guest arrives. It would not be happening, otherwise.

"This lord cannot help but notice that the human in your court seems to be well integrated." Tianlang-Jun is tilting his head in Qinghua's direction, as if there could be any other human he is referring to.

"Yes." Mobei-Jun responds, even though he does not want to talk to this demon about Qinghua, because Qinghua will be upset if he offends their guest this early into his visit.

"I cannot help but notice that someone has been cooking for him. Is there a demon in your court attempting to lay claim, then?"

Damn it all, actually. Mobei-Jun no longer cares about whether he might upset the guest. He curls his upper lip into a snarl before Tianlang-Jun allows any thought of that variety to linger in his head. There is a sudden shift in Tianlang-Jun's body language. One of his eyebrows flies up, and he suddenly seems much more interested in the conversation. Over at his table, Qinghua shoots a sharp and reproving glance in Mobei-Jun's direction, like he does every time he thinks Mobei-Jun might be making more work for him.

"Oh? It could not be that the Mobei-Jun, heir of the family that so publicly opposed my very interest in the human realm, has gone and started to court a human."

"Qinghua is none of your concern," Mobei-Jun grits out stiffly. Because Qinghua will be sad if he causes a political incident and he is holding on to his temper by nature of that fact alone. "This king would recommend that Tianlang-Jun decide on some other topic of conversation."

"Of course, Mobei-Jun. How can this guest do anything but comply?" But Mobei-Jun knows the glint of interest that he is still seeing in those dark eyes. He made a mistake, somewhere in that conversation. He doesn't know where. But he has drawn Tianlang-Jun's attention to Qinghua. This cannot stand.

"Qinghua is my advisor and a member of my court." The longer he is talking, the more smugly entertained this infuriating demon looks. "Tianlang-Jun has no reason for Qinghua to cross his mind."

A smile like a young child coming across an undefended table of sweets and delicacies. "I thought Mobei-Jun instructed me to direct any of my concerns or requests toward his advisor."

"No need. Tell a servant instead. They will tell Qinghua."

"That seems rather inefficient." Tianlang-Jun takes a slow and mocking drink of his wine, eyes laughing at Mobei-Jun over the rim. "Surely your advisor would prefer a more direct approach?"

The goblet in Mobei-Jun's hand groans under the pressure of his grip. "If Tianlang-Jun needs something, he should simply come to me and ask." The words are hissed out between teeth that will barely part to let them pass.

"Ah. An elegant solution. Truly, the king of the Northern Desert is peerless in his wisdom."

Mobei-Jun is being laughed at. He knows this feeling. He would grab Tianlang-Jun by the throat and throw him across the room if it wouldn't lead to him making a fool of himself in front of Qinghua. So, instead, he throws back the drink and studiously ignores any other attempts at conversation from the guest at his side. Let Qinghua be angry with him for not being the perfect diplomatic host. It is better than anything else he might have done.

*~*~*

Shang Qinghua is tired in the body-tired type of way, but not in the brain-tired type of way. The banquet ended hours ago, and the rest of the court has retreated to their beds for now, whether to fall asleep or to hook up with whoever they want. Good for them, good for them. The vigor of demonic youth.

That is not what is keeping him awake, however. Fuck no. It's been years since he's had a chance to bump uglies (as they say) with anyone. Shang Qinghua has an enormous and ever-growing Overarching To Do List. This is known. He also has his daily to do list that he draws from the points on the Overarching To Do List. He was doing an okay job getting through it before that deadbeat dad on a world tour had to show up and throw everything off, so now he's up hours past when everyone else went to sleep, like some kind of gamer bro, scrambling to check this month's inventory for Cang Qiong Mountain Peak against last months, to make sure there aren't any far less clever people skimming off the top. So far, it looks like a few of the Zui Xian disciples have been taking more than they said they would, but that's typical for them and not beyond the normal amounts, so he's not particularly worried.

Shang Qinghua is just setting those documents aside, moving into his next task (updating the map that he keeps of the movements of important figures based on the reports of this person and that person), when he hears the door to his office open.

No knock. No nothing. Is he some teenager still living at his parents' house? What's this entitlement and complete lack of privacy?

"I have always found it quaint, all the busy papers and documents that make up a human's day." Fuck. Tianlang-Jun. Not the sort of person that Shang Qinghua can order to leave.

"My lord Tianlang-Jun," he greets, shakily, standing for a quick salute and dropping the inventory paper over his map. The motherfucker. As if he didn't just ask Shang Qinghua for human books when he arrived. Papers and books aren't, actually, a unique human thing.

Much of demonic writing happens with an elaborate system of knots tied into thread, since there is so much variation in demonic hand structure, and tying knots is more accessible than holding a writing utensil. Learning how to write with a brush and paper had been a sign of status, because it meant that you might be interacting with the human realm. He'd thought it was a clever world-building detail. And it's not that humans spend more time than demons on their record keeping. More that, when Tianlang-Jun was emperor, he had been absent more often than not and had actively thwarted the efforts of his court to keep strategic records and reports. It had been part of what led to his downfall, leaving him to fight back entirely alone against so many sects. It had left his lands in chaos and disorganization, the easier for Shang Qinghua's son to sweep through and conquer.

Also, well, Shang Qinghua had never found too much pleasure in balancing all the little moving parts of writing political intrigue. Better to just have a good reason such structure was lacking and stop worrying about it.

"Forgive this humble human the wanderings of his mind." Shang Qinghua shuffles the map that he was making adjustments to further out of sight, even as he watches Tianlang-Jun's sharp eyes pick up on the movement. "How can this one be of service to the great Tianlang-Jun?"

"I couldn't help but appreciate the wonderful selection of novels provided to my rooms." Tianlang-Jun's movements are slinking and feline, as he maneuvers his way just a little too closely into Shang Qinghua's space. "I thought it might be worth my while to meet the human capable of selecting such things. Perhaps we may have some things in common." Tianlang-Jun has a tell when he's lying. There's a little twitch right at the corner of his smile, for just a second. No one ever noticed it. Even if they had, no one would have ever pointed it out to him or told someone else, because no one would ever dare. Shang Qinghua knows that he is lying right now, because he knows the tell, because he wrote this character. This was supposed to be his Big Bad, before the computer crashed and the outline fell to pieces and everything else went to shit.

"Perhaps Tianlang-Jun would like a recommendation for a companion more fitting to his status, who may also enjoy to discuss such things with him?" Shang Qinghua needs this man to leave. He has to get up in just a few hours to help prepare for court again, and he still has several things on today's list. Please, please, please just take the hint and leave.

"Oh?" Head tilted to the side. A fox, rather than a cat. "Is Shang Qinghua spoken for, then? This Tianlang-Jun had hoped to befriend him, but it seems as though some other demon has laid a claim."

"What?" Shang Qinghua sputters, because there are about seventeen things about that one small sentence that he needs to question and it's knocking some of the fear and hesitance right out of him. "Surely Tianlang-Jun has others he would find more suitable to befriend." Befriend??? This is the Big Bad! What is he even doing in here?

Tianlang-Jun seems quite aware of Shang Qinghua's panic and distress, and yet utterly unmoved. He makes his way over to the desk that Shang Qinghua was using and sits down on the surface, right atop the papers, patting against his own thighs and smiling with all the guile of a newborn baby.

"I think that you will find that I have quite a history of befriending people that others may not see as suitable." Tianlang-Jun reaches over, swipes up the cup of tea that Shang Qinghua poured himself several hours ago and immediately forgot about. The previous emperor of the Southern demon tribes takes one delicate sip, wrinkles his nose in disgust, and then sets it back down. "Entertain me, Qinghua. I want to hear all about this life that a human built among demons. At the throne of Mobei-Jun, no less."

Oh. That makes more sense, then. The scandalized, gossiping note in his voice, when he talks about Mobei-Jun. The sudden and more-intense-than-it-should-be interest. Shang Qinghua can never escape the time honored tradition of a queer-coded villain, apparently. It happens when he's writing, even if he doesn't mean to do it. And this would make sense, as a power grab without having to do any of the actual work, which is the part that Tianlang-Jun always hated anyway. Marrying Mobei-Jun would be a pretty little solution.

"This one is hardly as important as all that." As if Shang Qinghua is ever going to allow this man to end up with Mobei-Jun. It would be a terrible match, neither one of them making the other happy. And, well, Mobei-Jun has always his favorite. He deserves something better than a miserable marriage. "This lowly one would be happy to tell Tianlang-Jun anything he is curious about, but it would hardly be anything worth hearing. This one is rarely granted the honor of speaking with Mobei-Jun." Tianlang-Jun is too powerful and unpredictable to piss off, so he can't exactly say no, but he's certainly not going to make it easy.

"Oh, this lowly one, huh?" Tianlang-Jun clicks his tongue in a chiding, condescending manner. Bitch. "No need to stand on such formalities. We're friends now, Qinghua. Come, sit with me. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about all the ways that human literature has advanced in the past few decades."

And, well, that's a direct order. For all that Shang Qinghua lectures Mobei-Jun about being a good diplomat, he can hardly do anything but obey. For all that Shang Qinghua shit talks people in his head or in his interactions with Cucumber-Bro, he is and will forever be a coward. He walks over to the small sitting area in the corner of the room, where he has covered all four of the chairs with some mishmash of maps and paperwork and empty bowls of noodles. The servants likely would have cleaned it up if they weren't forbidden from moving anything in the room.

Tianlang-Jun follows him, gleeful as a child and with the power of a nuclear bomb behind him. He stands off the to side, entirely unhelpful, as Shang Qinghua shoves several piles of detritus to the floor and beats furiously at the seat cushions to try and remove some of the dust. When one is clear, Tianlang-Jun slinks over and perches upon it like a throne.

"Now, isn't that better?" Tianlang-Jun seems to have brought the cold cup of Shang Qinghua's tea with him, and is continuing to sip from it, despite the level to which it is clearly grossing him out. "Tell me about books, if you're so reluctant to speak about your king."

They talk. It should be terrifying, speaking with a Heavenly Demon like this, someone so unpredictable. And it is, in a way. Shang Qinghua is shitting himself, and he can feel the way all of his limbs have locked up in trembling panic. Tianlang-Jun, though, was written to be a charming and charismatic villain, the kind of character that you can't help but like, even when he's clearly committing all sorts of atrocities. And so, somehow, despite it all, Shang Qinghua kind of likes him. Tianlang-Jun is quick and clever and very invested in learning about the terrible plots of terrible romance books that are starting to really pick up steam in this world after The Resentment of Chunshan.

"See? We're friends now. Tell me about my friend, Qinghua. How did a human come to be such an integral member of Mobei-Jun's court? An advisor, at that?"

Shang Qinghua talks him in circles, barely talking about Mobei-Jun at all, because he can make a new friend while still sticking to the original goal. Every time it drifts close to talk of Shang Qinghua's king, he can see the light in Tianlang-Jun's eyes, the leaning forward in sudden rapt interest, and it's not hard to remember to change the subject.

It would be easier, however, if his entire life didn't seem to revolve around Mobei-Jun, at this point. There's really very little that Shang Qinghua can talk about that doesn't tie back to him in some way. This is not because of his pathetic little crush, either. It's simply because he has made himself into an essential member of the court and because he lives at his place of work. Obviously, his life would revolve around his boss, in a situation like that. The pathetic-crush-maybe-love is entirely separate from that.

As the night wears on into the wee small hours of the morning, Shang Qinghua is furious to realize that he could actually see himself becoming friends with Tianlang-Jun. It's lucky, though, because the dropping formality and increased comfort eventually reaches a point where Shang Qinghua is finally comfortable pushing a new novel into Tianlang-Jun's hands and shoving him out the door to his quarters. Shang Qinghua can cross off the one or two essential things left on his list for today, and move all the other still-important-but-less-immediately-pressing tasks to the list for tomorrow.

He crashes into a few snatched hours of sleep, reeling from all the details that will be waiting for him when he wakes up.

*~*~*

"I see why you like him so much."

Mobei-Jun does not respond. That voice could be talking to anyone. He refuses to acknowledge it until it has made it impossible to do otherwise. Qinghua should be grovelling at his feet in thanks, at the effort he is putting into diplomacy.

"Your little human pet. We had such a lovely talk late last night. He has such taste in literature, don't you think?" Mobei-Jun is not looking at Tianlang-Jun, even as he lounges beside him as an honored guest at court. He is not looking because it's impossible to know if Tianlang-Jun is even talking to him. He will not look, because if he looks then he will lunge at Tianlang-Jun teeth-first, and he is behaving himself. "And such a fire in him! I will admit, Mobei-Jun, I didn't see it at first. He seems so nervous and jittery all the time. But there really is a brilliant mind in there, isn't there? And he's got a spine, if you push him far enough."

The doors to the court open, and Tianlang-Jun falls silent, thank the gods. Mobei-Jun is one of the only creatures on this earth that has the opportunity to know those truths about Qinghua, past the mask that so many others see. Perhaps Tianlang-Jun is only taunting him but, if so, then it is a very lucky guess.

Mobei-Jun rules for the next petitioner to be sentenced to death. He doesn't even know what they came in for.

As the court watches the crying demon be dragged from the room, Mobei-Jun sees the accursed image of Tianlang-Jun, lounging in his seat with a smirk, in his peripheral vision.

"Someone like that is truly worth knowing, wouldn't you say? Worth keeping on your side. I think I may take up a friendship with Qinghua. He seems like the sort of man who would enjoy exchanging letters."

And that is the last straw.

There is no warning, when Mobei-Jun lunges. He slips into the shadow of his throne and appears, teeth and claws first, behind where Tianlang-Jun has the nerve to lounge. Speaking of writing letters to Qinghua. Calling him by that name. Mobei-Jun is going to kill him where he stands.

Tianlang-Jun isn't surprised. He meets him blow for blow, even as Mobei-Jun tackles him down off the dais and they begin to duel in the center of the court. The demon nobles stand in quiet observation, not interfering for either side. They are nothing. Mobei-Jun draws the sword at his side, lunging forward with the speed and strength he has developed over years of sparring with Luo Binghe, on top of a lifetime in a family that wanted him dead. Tianlang-Jun dances gracefully out of the way. He laughs as he does. It sends icy fury hurtling through Mobei-Jun's bloodstream.

The fight is brief and brutal. For every blow that Mobei-Jun lands, Tianlang-Jun lands three. He is faster, and stronger, and older. What does it matter, that Mobei-Jun will lose? That is not the point. How could he respond in any way but this, when Tianlang-Jun has so blatantly flaunted his claim to the man he is courting?

A blow to the side of the head, and Mobei-Jun sees his blood on the ground. A blow to Tianlang-Jun's arm, and his blood forms into a wickedly sharp blade that he wields more effectively than claws and teeth.

Mobei-Jun is losing. He is losing, and Tianlang-Jun does not do him the dignity of making his next charade subtle. Perhaps, to the nobles, already losing interest in the fight, it is difficult to see. Here, in the midst of the fight, it is glaringly obvious when Tianlang-Jun allows several of Mobei-Jun's hits to land in a row. Even more obvious when he winks and then drops to a knee, bowing his head before Mobei-Jun's strike, fully confident that he will not allow it to land.

Mobei-Jun does not allow it to land. Because Qinghua would be upset.

"This Tianlang-Jun apologizes for any offense he may have caused his host, the venerable Mobei-Jun. Please, accept this one's deepest regret and honest surrender to the martial prowess of one such as Mobei-Jun."

He is laying it on thick. He is smirking throughout the entire declaration. Mobei-Jun does not dignify it with a response. He grunts in some vague acknowledgement and strides out of the greeting hall before he does something like throw away his entire kingdom for the chance to tear out Tianlang-Jun's throat.

Let him try to take Qinghua. A man like this is not at all to Qinghua's taste, and has none of the sort of shared history that he has with Mobei-Jun. Tianlang-Jun can throw himself against the brick wall of Qinghua's regard all that he desires. It will make no difference. He will not find a way into Qinghua's heart.

Mobei-Jun hasn't, and he has been trying for years.

*~*~*

By the time Shang Qinghua makes it back to his office for the evening, he is about ready to hunt his king down and throttle him. Sure, go right ahead, pick a fight with the most powerful demon in the court in the middle of the court where everyone can see and then leave court early. Surely someone else can take care of all the day's petitioners. Surely someone else can greet the dignitaries from the Fox Clan.

Of course. Shang Qinghua will just shift around his daily to do list, again, and make that happen. Who cares if it means that he needs to send the head servant to oversee the preparation of the greeting banquet for tomorrow, and fuck if that imbecile will do any of it right. He'll make it too garish or, even worse, make it grander than the welcome banquet they held yesterday, and cause a diplomatic incident that way. Most likely, Shang Qinghua is going to have to head over there tomorrow morning and undo everything the head servant did, which means another item on his to do list.

When he returns to his office, there is a pile of mail waiting for him, because there's a fucking spawn point above his desk and new tasks arrive every time he dares to step away. This is always the first part of his routine in the evening: going through all the mail in order of oldest to newest and checking to see which part of the Overarching To Do List it needs to be added to.

There are, thank fucking god, very few unexpected things in this pile of mail. Shang Qinghua moves a few tracking symbols around on his map of VIPs, and takes the time to jot a few points down on his to do lists for various regions. There are some items to add into next months budget for the Northern Desert and a few requests for night hunt services that will need to be passed on. Nothing too unusual, until he gets to the two most recent pieces of mail.

Qinghua,

I so enjoyed our conversation last night. Your insight into the motivations of the characters inBreathless Wishwere truly correct on every point. A mind like yours is one that I am eager to befriend.

Here's to many more nighttime conversations.

Tianlang-Jun :)

Shang Qinghua stares at the smiley face at the end for too long. This is what he gets. This is what he gets for watching too much shonen anime right before starting to outline this part of his story. He has no one to blame but himself, for this chaotic cool-guy stalker vibe that Tianlang-Jun is bringing to the villain role.

Shang Qinghua does not know what to do with this letter, but there is nothing about it that needs to be added to the Overarching To Do List. He sets it to the side so he can start to forget about it (after taking out the color-coded cheat sheet for the tracking map of VIPs and adding a new colored dot next to Tianlang-Jun's name).

The next letter is even more confusing.

Truly, Shang Qinghua stares down at the envelope for almost a full minute before moving.

It is folded on impressive, expensive cream paper. His name is written across the front, in a handwriting that would be impossible not to recognize, after all the time he has spent managing documentation for its owner.

Qinghua, it reads.

Tianlang-Jun provoked the fight today. There will likely be people who are unhappy.

I don't like him here. Make him leave.

There is no signature line. Shang Qinghua is going to kill him. He is going to go back in time and not save his life, back when they first met. That would have made every other part of his life so much easier. Fucking hindsight.

Fucking. Sure. He'll just go ahead and kick the most powerful demon they know out of the palace, then. Him, Shang Qinhua, the only human here. A cultivator too! Don't forget that part! A cultivator, you know, like the cultivators that imprisoned him under a mountain for decades and killed the woman he was in love with? Surely, there couldn't possibly be any flaws in this plan.

"Is that all he wrote? That's pathetic." The voice is from right over Shang Qinghua's shoulder, and he screams and whirls around, throwing the letter with all his might, only for it to flop harmlessly against Tianlang-Jun's chest and fall to the floor. "Hello Qinghua. I need to teach your king how to write sweet nothings as well, apparently."

Right. This asshole. Trying to seduce Mobei-Jun by doing ridiculous things like, apparently, starting a fight with him in front of the entire court and then reading letters to try and figure out how his actions were received.

"Tianlang-Jun." Shang Qinghua dips into a low salute, because he needs a second to get his fucking face together and also because he doesn't want to fucking die. "How can this humble one be of service?"

"None of that, I thought we already talked about this. No need for the formalities." Tianlang-Jun reaches past Shang Qinghua and steals his tea again before sauntering over to the sitting area where they spent their time yesterday. "I was just bored and wanted to talk to my friend. You're not busy, are you?" He's standing in front of the chair he sat in last night, because it's already accumulated new clutter and apparently his arms are still going to fucking fall off or something if he deigns to do any kind of physical labor.

"Of course I have time." Shang Qinghua gives one last, longing glance toward The Overarching To Do List and makes his way over to clear off the fucking chair. Make way, everyone. Shang Qinghua, the only fucking person capable of doing any work around here is finally here. What else can he do for you?

Tianlang-Jun drapes himself across the chair like an expensive throw and takes a languorous sip of Shang Qinghua's tea. When he tastes it, and the liquor Shang Qinghua had treated himself to spiking it with, his bros shoot up and a delighted smile spreads across his face.

"Ah, Qinghua, I had no idea you enjoyed this sort of thing. You must really be telling the truth when you said that you were planning to relax tonight." Shang Qinghua had not said anything even close to that. He would never say something like that. He added the shot or two because all he has to do tonight is a bunch of simple copying over of figures from all the various documents into one larger tracking sheet. It's mindless work and not the sort of thing that is disrupted by a little alcohol greasing the way.

"This king of yours is not very good at the whole romance thing, is he?" As if Shang Qinghua is going to allow slander like that to stand.

"He has never been interested in that sort of thing, so there would be no way to know one way or the other."

"Oh? What makes you so sure of that? I thought you were rarely granted the honor of speaking to Mobei-Jun?" Tianlang-Jun has the kind of smile that makes you feel like he's always playing a prank on you, or telling a joke at your expense. As the person who created him, Shang Qinghua knows that that feeling is often correct. The question is simply whether or not it is correct at this exact moment.

"I have known him for many years and seen him grow from a youth into the king that he is today. I would know if he had expressed interest in another."

"Qinghua sounds so sure. Perhaps this Lord should take his word for it." A fucking wrestling match in front of the entire court. Conversation with multiple words from Mobei-Jun over the course of a banquet. Maybe this is the joke. These behaviors could be seen as romantic, sometimes even flirting, in demon customs.

"Tianlang-Jun returned so quickly to formalities, after announcing that they were not necessary. Is he attempting to take his leave, then?" Shang Qinghua is trembling from the audacity of prompting Tianlang-Junto leave, but he's not sure he won't do something even worse if he continues to talk to him. The lesser of two evils.

"Hm, not just yet." Tianlang-Jun spreads his legs wide, leans forward to rest his chin on his hand and stare with half-lidded eyes. "Have you fucked each other?"

Shang Qinghua feels the impact of the question as it hits his chest, and then the shockwaves out that lock down each of his muscles as they pass. Fight or flight or fucking freeze, and he is a prey animal in the hungry gaze of a predator. Not even in a hot way that it sometimes feels with Mobei-Jun, just in the terrifying, if-I-don't-say-the-right-answer-he'll-kill-me way.

Thankfully, or tragically, or pathetically, Shang Qinghua doesn't have to lie about this. Who knows how a man as single-minded and obsessive as Tianlang-Jun would react to having to share his love interest with the tiny cultivator before him.

"No! What the fuck? No, of course he hasn't fucked me."

"He hasn't fucked you? Oh, Qinghua, you poor thing. That is not the question I asked."

"I don't see why any of this is relevant to anything at all."

"I told you. I'm bored! A poor, retired heavenly demon, traveling the world without a friend or a title to his name, grieving the loss of his most reliable subordinate. There is nothing at all to do out there. And there's something so very interesting happening here at this court. How long have you been wanting him?"

Shang Qinghua cannot tell him to leave, because he would be dead before the words could even leave his mouth. Also because this should all be just fine. He shouldn't feel the need to shut this down. Shang Qinghua doesn't mind when people make pitying assumptions about him. It's useful. If it weren't for the pathetic, desperate obsession he's been nursing for his king since long before he even came to this world, it would be funny. Instead, he's holding onto the shreds of his composure and humiliation and anger with the tips of his fingernails.

"Tianlang-Jun," he forces out. "Is there some sort of book you are looking to borrow tonight, or another way that I could be of service to you?"

"My friend Qinghua must be a prodigious reader indeed, if he believes me capable of reading all the books he sent over in the past day alone." There is a breath of peace, where Shang Qinghua is idiotic enough to let his guard down, thinking his blatant efforts to change the subject were accepted. "If you're not going to fuck him, you should at least go through the trouble of cooking for him. After all the cooking he's done for you."

Is this some weird mind game? Probably! Luo Binghe has to get it from somewhere! Is Tianlang-Jun trying to mark his claim on Mobei-Jun by trying to offend and order around anyone who might be a love rival? That feels more like the moves of the Little Palace Mistress than a Heavenly Demon lord. But then, why tell him to cook for his king? Where does that fit into the plan?

It's all gone so strange.

"Sure, yeah, I'll do that." Shang Qinghua agrees because there's nothing else for him to do and he doesn't know what the game is, here. He certainly can't go and tell Tianlang-Jun to fuck off, to leave him alone, to leave this entire fucking palace and go make his trouble somewhere else. What can he do but agree? He has no power here, beyond his intricate and extensive knowledge of all the ways that Tianlang-Jun could fuck him up without even expending any effort. Easier than sneezing.

"I'll hold you to that, Qinghua," Tianlang-Jun says, drinking deeply from the spiked cold tea that he stole. "As my friend, I have to trust that you will keep your word to me, no?" He smiles at that, as if they are two old childhood friends passing the time over jokes and nostalgic stories.

"Of course, of course," Shang Qinghua murmurs, feeling like an old grandfather appeasing a toddler. He could hope that this would be the end of their conversation, but Tianlang-Jun stays again, this night, even later than the night before. Shang Qinghua has nothing he can do about it, but he's going to have to start penciling naps into the daily to do list, if this shit keeps up.

*~*~*

"I have to say, that letter you wrote to your darling love really left something to be desired." Tianlang-Jun does not wait to be announced or engage in any small talk. He simply arrives and begins speaking about the thing he wants to say. This is normally the sort of behavior that Mobei-Jun appreciates.

Normally.

He is reading over the speech that Qinghua has written for him, greeting the dignitaries from the Fox Clan after their arrival yesterday. It is short and succinct, but covers the points that would be necessary for whatever sort of behind-the-scenes things Qinghua is trying to accomplish. Mobei-Jun no longer asks for specifics. He just goes where he is told and says what he's supposed to say. In return, Qinghua makes the words at least somewhat bearable to say. It works for them.

They have a rapport. An understanding. Mobei-Jun is not going to forget this and allow himself to lash out again, like yesterday. Qinghua had not been happy. He hadn't said anything, too busy with other things, but he had scowled up at him over dinner, and that was enough to make it clear. Most likely it will come up again after Mobei-Jun has angered him several more times, and he decides to let it all out at once.

All this to say: Mobei-Jun does not respond to Tianlang-Jun's words. Merely grunts in acknowledgment, so he does not feel as though he has to say them again.

"Have you ever written a love letter before?" Tianlang-Jun slumps into a chair across from Mobei-Jun and props his feet up on the table, letting them fall atop the parchment holding the written out speech. "Because, if so, then I'm pretty sure he had no idea that it was a love letter. Is that how you talk to him all the time? I don't like him here, Qinghua. Make him leave, Qinghua. Bring me my blanket, Qinghua. Someone reading your letters would think he was your parent."

Mobei-Jun focuses on the words beneath Tianlang-Jun's shoes, even as he can feel his lips raising in a snarl. Those were the words he wrote. So Tianlang-Jun really did read the letter. This was not just a lucky guess that Mobei-Jun had fallen for his taunting. He knows the exact words.

Does that mean that Qinghua showed him the letter? Or that he broke in to the office to see it? One would be Qinghua's choice. Mobei-Jun could go and shout at him for it, but that would just make him do it more, most likely. The other option would mean that Mobei-Jun would have no choice but to challenge him to another duel. Another that he will lose.

It wasn't a love letter. That's why it didn't sound like one. Mobei-Jun has never written a love letter and never will.

"I think he was sad about it. If that's the kind of courting you're doing, no wonder he hasn't taken up your offer."

"Is there something Tianlang-Jun needs?" Mobei-Jun grits out between his teeth. He is speaking like this more and more frequently recently.

"I simply desire the chance to teach someone younger than me the proper way to woo a human, considering I'm one of the few demons who has ever managed it." That gives Mobei-Jun pause. Tianlang-Jun notices. "Considering the only models you may have for this kind of relationship would be myself and that son of mine, I had assumed you may want help. Unless, of course, you would prefer a relationship more like the one my son has built with his teacher."

"You have successfully courted a human."

"Famously, I'd say. Or infamously, I suppose, depending on who you're asking. But it certainly did happen. You can look to the emperor of our realm, if you have any doubt."

Mobei-Jun does not respond immediately.

There are two sides of him at war. He has been courting Qinghua for years with no discernible reciprocation. This Tianlang-Jun is one of the few people who may actually be able to help.

The other side of him is furious that this thought has even crossed his mind. This demon lord has intruded into his home uninvited and dares to comment on his relationship. As if he could ever know Qinghua the way that Mobei-Jun does. Mobei-Jun does not ask for help. He is the ruler of his Northern Desert. The second-in-command to Junshang.

Also, Tianlang-Jun is clearly waiting for him to ask for help. Sitting there, smug as can be, in patient silence. Mobei-Jun would rather rip his own throat out with his claws than ask for help from someone so clearly expecting him to.

Would he rather tear out his own throat or lose Qinghua, though?

If he accepts Tianlang-Jun's offer, it will not be as simple as agreeing. There will be strings attached. Mobei-Jun grew up in a family like this, too. Constantly trading information behind each other's back and holding things over each other.

Qinghua will not leave. He promised. They have time.

He lets the silence grow thicker in the room. Goes back to reading through the speech. If he ignores Tianlang-Jun long enough, he will likely go away.

It takes a good while. That is likely what happens when you try to wait out someone who spent the last few decades trapped under a mountain. Eventually, Tianlang-Jun allows the feet of the chair to scrape across the floor as he stands up and laughs.

"Well, good luck, then. I'll give you this one for free: your Qinghua is a man of words. Maybe try to do something about that, rather than begging for him to come clean up your messes." Tianlang-Jun raps his knuckles once against the surface of the table before sauntering out. It's good that he leaves so quickly, because Mobei-Jun is going to kill him if he has to look at him for another second.

*~*~*

It's kind of fucking frustrating, all the shit that's been going on recently. Shang Qinghua is always the person sent to deal with everyone else's bullshit, sure. Usually, though, there's a little bit of free time here and there. He can use it to sleep. He usually uses it to check in with his king and make sure that they are thinking along the same lines in the plans they're pursuing. Or to make sure he's doing all the things that Shang Qinghua trained him to do so that all the careful planning doesn't fall to pieces. Or to just get a chance to stare at him and be the perverted old man that he is. It's usually a fun mix of all of that. It's been happening more often that Mobei-Jun orders him to eat dinner together anyway, this past year or so. Sometimes it's those same hand-pulled noodles, and he's starting to get better at making them edible too.

There's been so much, with Tianlang-Jun's unexpected visit and the complications it brought to the Fox Clan's expected visit, and all the other everyday minutiae that comes from being the only person capable of running the demon realm or the human realm.

He misses it, though. The things that he gets to do when there isn't so much happening all the time. Evenings with his King, his favorite. Casual conversation with him, which really ends up looking more like Shang Qinghua rambling on and on about this or that while Mobei-Jun sits quietly and occasionally makes grunting or vaguely affirming noises to indicate that he has noticed that Shang Qinghua is still talking. Okay, so maybe the only thing that's really missing right now is his time with his king, but maybe that's the only thing worth missing anyway.

He makes his way over to the desk, flips over the stack of letters, starts going through them and adding information to The Overarching To Do List, shifting things in their priority rankings, moving figures across the VIP map and tweaking the color coding. There at the bottom of the stack is another one of those letters, same as the last time. Expensive, heavy cream paper with his name across the front in familiar handwriting.

Qinghua,

I have not seen you as frequently these past few days. There are many banquets. Eat lunch with me tomorrow.

Stop spending so much time with Tianlang-Jun.

Once again, there is no signature line. Once again, there is no need for a signature. It could not more clearly be from Mobei-Jun. It's him at his most neglected, entitled, and pouty. It reminds Shang Qinghua of the way he used to act when he was a teenager, actually, still coming into his power and unsure of his ranking within the family.

"See, I was thinking that was really more of a horizontal movement, but the ridiculous grin on your face makes me think I'm missing something and it was actually better." Shang Qinghua still jumps at Tianlang-Jun's voice, but he doesn't throw anything this time, because thought he might be stopping by again tonight. He just jumps whenever there's an unexpected noise. Sometimes also when there is an expected noise. "Any chance you'll be sharing with the class?"

"Tianlang-Jun," Shang Qinghua greets, bowing into a salute even though he's getting really fucking sick of this happening and would like to know how Tianlang-Jun so easily broke past the lock and talisman he had left on the door to his office. "In what way can this humble one be of service tonight?"

"See, you're so submissive and acquiescent when we're talking like this, Qinghua." Tianlang-Jun reaches out to lift Shang Qinghua out of his salute. There's an eager, boyish smile on his face and nothing behind his eyes. "Which is funny, because it doesn't seem like you follow through on the things we talk about." The smile grows wider, showing off just how sharp a full-blooded Heavenly Demon's teeth can be. "So eager to agree here, and then your actions go and betray all the trust of our friendship."

There is a fine tremor starting up in all of Shang Qinghua's limbs, something he's never quite figured out how to prevent when he's scared. His voice, when it comes out, is a high squeak. "Betrayed? If Tianlang-Jun would be so kind as to explain what he means."

"Qinghua," the word is chiding. "You told me you would be cooking food for your Mobei-Jun. And, yet, I saw nothing of the sort at dinner."

"There was a banquet!" Shang Qinghua yelps, because this is ridiculous. "We were welcoming the Fox Clan and he was giving a speech! I can't cook for him at a time like that!"

Again, Tianlang-Jun turns foxlike in the way he tilts his head to the side. More foxlike even than the Fox Clan that is visiting and that Shang Qinghua invented in a clear effort to pander to the furry demographic.

"Did he not cook for you?"

"He. Well. That's different! He knows I can't eat all that rotting stuff that demons like to eat!"

"Sounds like you could have cooked for him too."

"What do you want?" Shang Qinghua despairs. He made his bad guy too aloof and mysterious and now there's no way for him to even understand the points that he's trying to make. "I'll do whatever you want, just please stop with this whole intimidation game. I don't know what you're trying to do!"

"Qinghua, Qinghua," Tianlang-Jun saunters behind the place where Shang Qinghua was sitting and is now halfway to kowtowing. He's headed for the fucking tea again, not spiked, and Shang Qinghua has resigned himself to that. If that's what it takes for his chaotic-neutral villain to finally monologue and let everyone else in on what the fuck is going through his head, that's a small price to pay.

This is the part where he fucks it up.

Because he's so resigned to doing whatever needs to be done to make the person so much stronger than him leave him alone that he's not even watching him that closely, the way a spy master really should be. He sees Tianlang-Jun's hand reach out, and he doesn't do anything about it, because he thinks he's going for the fucking tea.

And then Tianlang-Jun is holding The Overarching To Do List. And it's too late to do anything.

Shang Qinghua still tries. He lunges up off the ground because there's nothing else to do when someone is holding your child hostage in front of you. At his first movement toward Tianlang-Jun, the motherfucker holds out his free hand and sets it alight with demonic fire, moving it slowly toward the stack of papers.

Shang Qinghua freezes. He doesn't move a fucking muscle, aside from the tremor wracking through every single one of them. He doesn't even allow himself to babble. He already asked the questions. Tianlang-Jun knows what he wants to know.

This is not a world where everything can be backed up to the cloud. This would be infinitely worse than losing his outline. That list is everything holding both realms together. There aren't copies.

"Ah, so this is what it takes to gain the full attention of one so important as the advisor to the king, Shang Qinghua. It's good to know something like that, when you're someone like me. A poor, homeless demon with no power of his own beyond what is granted by his blood. You understand why something like this might be necessary." He's monologuing, thank god, but he still isn't saying anything helpful, anything that will give any kind of fucking insight into what he could be thinking. Shang Qinghua has let him exist as a rogue entity for too long. It's not safe to have someone like this wandering. He needs more information.

"What do you want." Shang Qinghua does not ask, because there's too much space between each word for it to have that kind of inflection. He doesn't want to speak too quickly, because he does not know what sort of behavior will cause Tianlang-Jun to bring that flame closer to his Overarching To Do List.

"It seems that my good friend Qinghua is so busy with his lists that he had no time to follow through on our agreement." Interesting, that he's back to calling Shang Qinghua a friend, as if he hadn't just implied it was a threat. As if he isn't holding Shang Qinghua's most precious item hostage before his very eyes. "Surely, he will have more time to cook a dinner for his king if there are not so many other tasks cluttering up his time."

And

What?

What could possibly be the point of this? Shang Qinghua thought he was onto something, thinking that Tianlang-Jun was interested in Mobei-Jun, but this makes no fucking sense. How did they get here? He is going to scream. No more chaotic neutral villains ever, ever, ever again. No more characters that chase their whims from scene to scene. Every character from now on is going to have a clear and established set of values, consistent motivation, driving force.

No time for any of this. Whatever the motivation is, there is nothing for Shang Qinghua to do beyond hug those overpowered thighs and pray that he doesn't take it any further than this.

"Tianlang-Jun will return the list, after I do this?"

"Of course, Qinghua. I, after all, am a demon of my word. Your precious papers will be returned to you, as soon as you take the time to care for your king in the ways that he has taken care of you." Shang Qinghua would laugh at that, the idea that their relationship is unbalanced in Shang Qinghua's favor, but again. The fire.

"This one will do as you say, then."

"Good boy." Tianlang-Jun pats Shang Qinghua's head on his way out the door. Like a dog. He takes the list with him, but extinguishes the flame.

Shang Qinghua is left standing in the middle of his office.

He should do something.

There are hours before he usually goes to bed.

He can't just go to sleep.

There are so many things to do.

He has a whole list of all the things that he needs to be doing right now.

The problem, though, is that there's so much shit to keep track of every single fucking day. There's not enough space in his head to keep track of that, and every time he tries he just drives himself up the wall with no clue how he got there or what he needs to do to get back down.

So. The Overarching To Do List. He figures out what needs to be done, writes it down on the correct region of the list, and then erases it from his brain. He doesn't need to remember any of it. It's on the list. He'll find it again when he makes his daily to do list and when it's necessary for it to come back up.

It's a living document. There are no copies, because it changes seventeen times a day and is always shifting. He writes it in a horrible mixture of English and simplified Chinese characters, so that even if someone else in this world got ahold of the list that controls life across both realms, they would never know what it says or how to interpret it. Only Cucumber-Bro would ever have the context to read the information, and that's never going to happen, because he's far too content to live in his isolated little cottage while his husband waits on him hand and foot. And he'd never want to betray Shang Qinghua, because he's the one making sure Cucumber-Bro can relax and have a life like that.

No Overarching To Do List. No memory of what is even on that list. Nothing to do for the few hours where he usually sits down and makes significant amounts of headway into the neverending list.

There is nothing to do.

He could go to sleep, but there's no chance that he'll fall asleep right now. He's conditioned his body over the past several decades to spend this time awake.

He could go and cook a meal for Mobei-Jun right now. Would that count? Would that get him his list back right now? Tianlang-Jun had saiddinner, specifically. They've already eaten dinner. And Tianlang-Jun specifically pointed out that Mobei-Jun had cooked a meal for Shang Qinghua to eat when he was in front of everyone else. He had said that he would return the list when Shang Qinghua showed the same level of consideration for his king that his king has shown for him. Cooking something right now would almost definitely not meet those requirements, and would just add more tasks onto the pile.

Well. He was complaining earlier, wasn't he? About the lack of time he's been able to spend with Mobei-Jun recently. He might already be asleep, but there's nothing else to do. Maybe he'll go for a walk over toward his quarters and see if he's still awake now too.

Tianlang-Jun may be mad at him for this. His motivation is still so unclear, Shang Qinghua doesn't know what's going to set him off or what would make him happy. But he hasn't said not to spend time with Mobei-Jun, has encouraged it in some specific ways, so he's going to assume this is okay.

The halls of the Northern Palace are long and wandering. With so many different animal features integrated into the demon realm (again, many thanks to the deep and generous pockets of the furry community), there's never a moment where all the members of a demonic court are asleep. Shang Qinghua slips down the hallways, nodding at various nobles and servants as they go past. Everyone else is dressed casually, but Shang Qinghua needs to pull on several layers of draping robes and fur cloaks whenever he ventures outside of his personal chambers, especially at night. He feels like a huge, lumbering marshmallow as he walks down the hallway, all of his movements and sensations buffered by layers on layers on layers.

It's a long walk to his king's quarters. He had offered, after the whole incident with Shang Qinghua running away, to move his office and rooms closer, but Shang Qinghua hadn't seen much of a point. They rarely spend much time together in each other's rooms, and he's already put all his time and effort in finding the right combination of talismans and interior design and heating elements to make the temperature bearable. It would be so much work to design a new space like that.

The crowds thin out as he approaches the king's chambers. Mobei-Jun is not known for his friendly and welcoming demeanor. Someone looking to curry favor, gain his insight, lobby for policy would know better than to try and trouble him late at night. It would have the opposite effect.

Perhaps Shang Qinghua shouldn't be here at all, actually, when you think about it in that context. Maybe this is a dumb idea and he's about to see his king, mussed up from being awoken and furious, telling Shang Qinghua to leave him alone. Shang Qinghua tries to ignore the depraved part of him that feels excited at that image. It's one thing to be a masochist in a fun, sexy, pre-negotiated way. It's another thing to have your boss who has hit you before and could very easily kill you feature in those fantasies.

He tells himself this approximately five or more times a day. It hasn't worked yet, but he's holding out hope.

Besides. Mobei-Jun promised that he would never hit him again. Shang Qinghua has to trust that, because his entire life is built around trusting that right now. So, he pushes down any hesitation and knocks hard on the door. The wood is so thick and dense that it requires that kind of knock for anyone to hear.

It takes a minute and several more knocks before the door flies angrily open.

Mobei-Jun is standing in the doorway. His long, straight hair is caught and tangled on itself in several places. He's wearing loose-fitting, soft pants and a draping robe left open. That is all he is wearing. The endless expanse of his pale, muscled flesh on display has Shang Qinghua's mouth going dry. It could not be more clear that he had been in bed, got up when he heard the knocking, and threw a robe on as he walked over to the door. He was likely asleep, if the grouchy, squinty expression on his face is anything to go by.

What would he do, if Shang Qinghua dropped to his knees right now and blew him, just in the middle of the night in the middle of the hallway outside his chambers?

Maybe he'd let him. A mouth is a mouth. Maybe he'd punt Shang Qinghua across the floor and never talk about it again. Maybe he'd kick him out of the palace and find a different spymaster and advisor.

Shang Qinghua doesn't do it, just like he hasn't in the years that he's known him.

"Qinghua?" The grouchy, squinty face doesn't go away, but it softens a little bit. Likley relieved that it's not some politician here to try and talk about business.

"Ah, My King, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Something is wrong." The way this man never asks questions, just states what he thinks is true.

"No, no, nothing like that. Just here to-" To what? Just here to do what??? Why is he here? Just because he lost his to do list and has nothing to do? How does he explain that to him at all? "Ah, never mind. Never mind. Go back to sleep."

Shang Qinghua turns away from all that glorious skin and makes it only two steps away before he feels a hand clamp down on the neck of several layers of his robes and cloaks. He yelps as he is scooped up like a scruffed kitten. Mobei-Jun drags him back, slowly, spinning him back around to meet his eyes. Shang Qinghua reminds himself again (again again again again again) that he should not be turned on by his boss manhandling him.

"Qinghua does not often come to see me at this time." Again, not a fucking question, but he's still got Shang Qinghua held still. He's not going to let go without him saying something to explain himself.

"Ah, ha ha, My King. This one does not wish to disturb your sleep." Mobei-Jun flexes his arm in a way that makes Shang Qinghua brace to be shaken, but it doesn't come. He watches the intentional pause and forcible relaxation of that muscle, the same sort of thing he's seen several times since he and Mobei-Jun talked about the whole hitting thing. Still, the relentless, unblinking contact from his ice-blue eyes is cutting into Shang Qinghua, who has never been very good at staying quiet anyway. "It's just that I wasn't sleeping and I thought maybe you wouldn't be sleeping anyway and wanted to see if...ha ha, I guess just wanted to know if you needed something, or anything."

The squinty, grumpy expression has almost entirely disappeared into the usual smooth, blank lines of indescipherable emotion. Shang Qinghua does not know if that is a good sign or a bad sign.

"Qinghua usually uses this time to complete tasks and paperwork."

Huh. Shang Qinghua hadn't realized that Mobei-Jun kept that kind of track of what he's up to.

"Ah, yeah, I guess that's true."

"Qinghua is here instead." There is a tick at the corner of Mobei-Jun's eye. A usual tell that he is getting angry.

"Ha ha, yeah, Tianlang-Jun-" The hand in his collars tightens. There is no pain from it (all fabric, and that's good, it's good that Mobei-Jun is not moving him around by a firm grip on his neck), but the obvious reaction to the name still shakes him a little. "Tianlang-Jun came and took my list."

"The Overarching To Do List."

"Oh, uh, yeah. That."

Mobei-Jun drops the collars and goes to storm off down the hallway in the direction of the guest rooms. Shang Qinghua yelps again and starts to scramble after him.

"Wait, wait, My King, where are you going?"

"He is a guest in my palace. He cannot interfere with the work of my advisor."

"So, what, you're going to fight him?" At the skepticism in his voice, Mobei-Jun whirls around, the same hurt pout that he's had since he was a teenager.

"Is that not why Qinghua is here?"

"No!" Shang Qinghua wails. "I just thought that, if I wasn't doing anything and if you weren't doing anything, well, I guess." The pout has dissappeared off of Mobei-Jun's face, and he is no longer pulling away from Shang Qinghua to head toward the guest quarters. "Never mind. I'm going to just, I don't know, go to bed or something. My King should go back to sleep too. This one apologizes for waking you."

"You came here to spend time together."

Shang Qinghua sputters to a stop at those words, shocked and appauled that Mobei-jun would be so bold as to just go ahead and say something like that out loud, when they never do things like that. He can feel the heat of a blush flooding his cheeks, but Mobei-Jun just nods his head and grabs again at the scruff of his cloaks, before he can find a way to gather all of his words together. Without ceremony, he is dragged back through the doorway and finds himself in the king's private chambers.

In all the time that he has lived in the palace, he has not ever been in his king's bedroom.

The rooms are cold and yawning. The ceilings arc high and elegant above them, carved from a beautiful natural marble deposit and shot through with silver shaped to look like ice filigrie on all the support beams and molding. There is a fireplace in the corner, with a sumptuous fur from a Six-Headed Ice Cavern Leopard spread before it, but no fire in the fireplace. Mobei-Jun has never been the type to pursue any sort of heat, when left to his own devices. In a room this large, where an ice demon has spent the last few hours and the walls and ceiling are carved from stone, there is a kind of ringing freezing cold that cuts right to the core of Shang Qinghua's bones. He feels a shiver wrack through him almost immediately.

In the corner of the room, there is an enormous bed, covered in furs and blankets and pillows. They seem to have been constructed into some kind of nest, so that Mobei-jun can lay on top without having to bundle up in any way. Shang Qinghua hates that he knows this now. His mouth is dry just looking at it, knowing that it might still be cold from when he was laying in it just before Shang Qinghua knocked on the door. The blankets are rumpled and scattered. He could probably figure out a way to keep warm, if he bundled up in there enough. If he were going to sleep there.

Which he isn't going to do. Because they don't do that and never have and there is no reason to think that they ever will.

"Ah, My King, this really isn't necessary." The shivering is mostly from the cold, but Shang Qinghua would probably be shaking either way, with the way that it's basically automatic as a response whenever Mobei-Jun manhandles him like this. Yes, it is objectively fucking hot. This is the demon that was meant to kill him and that knocked him around before and from whom he has begged for his life. He should not be turned on right now. He can't help it.

Mobei-Jun does not seem to be listening. He pulls Shang Qinghua over to the chairs near the fireplace and sets him down in one before sitting silently in the chair across from him. They sit in silence for a second, staring at each other, while Shang Qinghua shakes with shivers, even through all his layers. After a bit of this, Mobei-Jun jerks back into motion and goes to light a fire.

"Wait, My King, you don't need to, that really isn't necessary." Shang Qinghua starts with a loud protest, but it strangles itself to a whisper when Mobei-Jun shoots him a scathing glare. Fine. Fine. He's the king here. If he wants to light a fire in his room then that's his problem. Shang Qinghua certainly isn't going to stop him, especially when the first wave of heat begins to emenate from the fireplace and he feels as his muscles unclench.

When he glances back over at Mobei-Jun, his face has gone well and truly soft, and there's something new and stunning about the way firelight plays off his cheekbones and the planes of his face. Something about this new light, the crackling of the flames, flips the moment from terrifying and cold to something warm and peaceful. Shang Qinghua settles back in the seat, snuggling down a little deeper into all the cloaks, feeling almost as though he should have some kind of warm drink as well.

And, suddenly, it's not so bad at all. He's not panicking anymore, becuase his king dragged him here. His king lit a fire. His king will throw him out when he is done speaking with him. All that he can do it wait to be told when his king's patience runs out.

"Well, My King, should I ask how your day went? It doesn't seem like there's much point, since I was there for most of it and had my people reporting back to me about everything I wasn't there for." Mobei-Jun snorts a delicate laugh, with all the effortless elegance of someone written as wish-fulfillment by a man with a competence kink. "I know you did well with the speech for the Fox Clan, even if I was busy prepping for the banquet instead."

"The Fox Clan," Mobei-Jun says, but there's a nuance to his flat tone that makes the words absolutely scathing. Shang Qinghua leans forward, grabbing onto the arms of his chair, and it's probably a good thing after all, that he's not holding a hot drink right now.

"Did they do something? Why didn't I know that you don't like the Fox Clan? It impacts our plans, and the rooms we give them, and the things we serve at the banquet. If you're going to cut them off as allies, you need to let me know yesterday, so that I can start getting everything in order for something like that. You have to tell me these things, My King, if I'm supposed to be your advisor and spymaster."

"Qinghua can know whatever he likes, regardless of reason."

"Oh," Shang Qinghua feels a blush rising on his cheeks, but they were already red from the cold, so it's probably unnoticable. What the fuck is going on in this place right here? "Well, great, appreciate that, but also I do need to know for my job. And also so that, when I write speeches, I can make them things you're actually willing to say."

"They are...overfamiliar." Shang Qinghua cannot help the way that he laughs nervously at that. It's unusual to hear his king express this kind of targeted hatred rather than a general dislike for everyone. It's funny, to hear him complaining. Also, that is not nearly enough information.

"My King, tell me more. What happened? I was only gone for a shichen. Surely nothing too horrible could have gone wrong in that time."

"One of their delegation has expressed interest in courting Qinghua."

And. Oh. Huh. Well, that's not at all what he was expecting this conversation to be about. It's also still really unclear why that would make Mobei-Jun not like them, unless-

"Ah, they really shouldn't be troubling the king with such things as that. And during your speech as well, no wonder My King no longer likes them. It shows a true lack of understanding for courtly manners. Which one of their party was it? This advisor will do what he can to remedy this situation."

There is a pause, enough to draw Shang Qinghua out of his ramblings and notice the way that the irritation has left Mobei-Jun's face, even as his eyes still rest heavy on Shang Qinghua.

"It was the younger general, with the long black hair and silver ears." If Mobei-Jun is looking for recognition in Shang Qinghua's expression, he finds it, because that's one of the Fox Clan that has been relentlessly seeking conversation with Shang Qinghua over the course of the visit, especially when he has seven other things that he really needs to be attending to. He is handsome enough, almost everyone in this world is, unless they're written to be some low-grade villain. It would be nice, if it were at all possible for Shang Qinghua to find himself interested in anyone over the screaming noise of his pathetic love for his king.

"General River Mud! Yes, I remember him. I wouldn't have expected him to interrupt official procedings in such a way. I'll have to make sure to update my notes on him." Shang Qinghua reaches for the brush he usually keeps just behind his ear, but it's not there, because he was settling in for the night in his office. Without asking, he makes his way over to Mobei-Jun's desk, taking one of his brushes and the thick, half-dried ink still in the dish. He's almost done scrawling the reminder onto his hand when he hears Mobei-Jun speak up again.

"It was not an interruption." Shang Qinghua glances back over at him, his sleeve caught between his teeth to better hold it out of the way while he writes, inconvenitently also blocking him from asking any clarifying questions. "General River Mud of the Fox Clan petitioned appropriately for royal permission to court Shang Qinghua, the king's advisor."

The sleeve falls from Shang Qinghua's open mouth.

"Oh shit." Mobei-Jun is just watching watching watching, waiting for Shang Qinghu to react. "Oh shit, okay, wait, that's not at all what I thought you were going to say. So, wait, okay, is he like officially courting me now? My King, if you blessed the courting, then you know that it would be a great offense to both himandyou if I didn't allow it to happen. So, wait, are you trying to marry me off to another clan?" His breathing is speeding up, and he can feel it. Mobei-Jun must be able to tell as well, because he rises to his feet and begins walking toward Shang Qinghua. "You can't send me away, My King, this place would fall to pieces without me running it and you know that. I can't go to the Fox Clan. I don't even have fur and what-"

Mobei-Jun sets his hand over Shang Qinghua's mouth. It is cold and large enough to cover from one hinge of his jaw to the other. He wants to lick it.

"I denied his request and sent him away." The words are so close. Mobei-Jun is so close. He's so much bigger than Shang Qinghua and his voice is so deep that it shakes the air between them when he speaks. Shang Qinghua needs to take a moment to remember what they're even talking about.

"Wait," he tries to say, but it comes out more like mphg until he is able to wrap his hands around Mobei-Jun's and push it away from covering his mouth. "Wait, but sending him away like that could be terrible for the relationship between us and the Fox Clan. My King, you can't just send away every person that annoys you. Why would you even do that?"

This is the kind of question that does not ever get an answer. Mobei-Jun acts based on his feelings and never takes the time to explain. His advisor must learn to take it all in stride and fix whatever mess was just made. Mobei-Jun is a man of action rather than words.

They're still standing so close, with Shang Qinghua holding his mostly-limp hands in the air between them, from when he pushed him away. There's something sparking in the air between them. In the firelight that flickers, dim this far away. Shang Qinghua is suddenly once again very aware of the bed in the room, large and comfortable behind him. They're so close that he can see the resolve settle over Mobei-Jun, a sure sign that there will be no response, before a thought clearly strikes him anew and he tilts his head, focused on Shang Qinghua's expression.

"Because Qinghua cannot go to the Fox Clan. Because this palace would not survive that loss." Oh shit, oh fuck. Somethings happening. Something is fucking different right now, and there is one long, unending scream echoing in Shang Qinghua's brain. One of those large hands lifts from his grasp to brush almost inperceptibly along the edge of one cheekbone, into his temple. There is a wry, soft smile at the corner of Mobei-Jun's mouth, if you are lookingveryclosely. "Because Qinghua does not have fur."

Shang Qinghua is a mouse in a trap. Pinned, wide-eyed, staring up into the eyes of a predator. Mobei-Jun's hand is resting along the side of his head, elegant fingers pressed into his hair, along the shell of his ear, against his temple.

He's waiting for something to happen. For Mobei-Jun to lean down and claim his mouth like it's his right. For him to laugh in his face and declare it all a terrible joke. Something, something, something but Mobei-Jun is carved from ice. He does not shift or react, simply holds them in that moment. He's watching Shang Qinghua like he's waiting for the same sort of thing, and this is too much. This is a dream. This is a trick. This isn't happening.

Shang Qinghua bursts into awkward and uncomfortable laughter, shuffles his way to the side until he's no longer pressed into that small bubble of space between his king and the desk. The moment shatters on the ground after him. He can practically hear the crack. It's fine. It's better than whatever might have happened if he hadn't done anything.

"Ah, My King, so kind, so kind. Of course this advisor would not leave. Come back to the fire. I have my notes now." He pats at the chairs they were sitting in earlier, awkward, awkward. Mobei-Jun stands with his back to him and the fire for one more breath before he turns and follows the directions, lounging in the chair like a throne. Good boy.

"No need for all that, then. My King told the general no, sent him away. This advisor will manage the fallout. Quick, let's talk about something else." Mobei-Jun does not look angry, but there is something of that pout back on his face, and Shang Qinghua can't look at it for too long or he is going to lose his mind. Anything else. "Oh! This one was wondering what My King's favorite food might be."

A pause, as Mobei-Jun clearly decides whether or not he is going to allow Shang Qinghua to get away with such a blatant effort to avoid any conversation about their most recent interaction. A deep sigh.

"This king does not care much for eating. He will eat what is provided for the occasion."

Right, see, Shang Qinghua knew that. That's why he doesn't already know what his king's favorite food is. Before today, he probably would have just answered that question by saying that he does not have one, that food has never been a source of particular joy for his king.

"Okay, and I know that, but surely My King must have some food that he prefers over others? Or some kind of cuisine he has been curious to try?"

"...Zha jiang mian," Mobei-Jun mutters. There are hints of a blue flush along his ears, and Shang Qinghua cannot figure out why. Where would his king have even had the chance to learn of the existence of zha jiang mian? The demons in his palace tend to eat meat raw or dried, with some rare fruits in the summer.

"Ah, good choice, My King."

"And Qinghua?"

"Huh?"

"Qinghua's favorite meal." Oh. That makes sense. That's how conversations tend to work.

"Hand-pulled noodles, My King." At that, Mobei-Jun dips his head in a firm nod of acknowledgement. This whole conversation is so strange. Everything about this night has been so strange. He has no idea what else they should talk about, and the conversation lapses into silence, the fire crackling between them. When Shang Qinghua cannot stand the quiet any longer, cannot stand the memory of the strange interaction over by the writing desk, cannot stand the looming presence of the bed in the corner, he lets out another awkward laugh, stumbles to his feet, brushes his sweaty palms off against his thighs.

"Well, this one has troubled you for long enough." He feels woozy, like the floor underneath him is rocking with each step. "I will take my leave and let you get back to sleep. See you tomorrow, My King."

"Not a trouble." Mobei-Jun does not stand to follow him or look particularly bereft, but the words ring through Shang Qinghua all the same. This is not how they speak to each other. He remembers the grumpy, sleepy look on Mobei-Jun's face when he opened the door. Interrupting his sleep like that is not a small offense. For him to say that it is not a trouble, now.

Well.

He doen't think on it any further. Better to just let that lie before his mind can get a proper hold on it.

Shang Qinghua extends his hand in a terrible little wave before he slinks back down the hallways, as if he were a criminal escaping the scene of a crime, except he literally was just talking to someone.

Back to the safety and warmth of his own quarters. Tianlang-Jun is not hiding anywhere in the corners. He checked. After that, there is little to do beyond curl up under the heavy blankets of his own bed and allow exhaustion to drag him under.

It's hours before he falls asleep.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi! I have a request for you

🦇, ⛸️

I've been rollerblading for 12 years so, despite not being a professional ice skater, I know my way around the rink.

I'd like some friends to lovers where we take eddie ice skating but he's like Bambi on ice and we have to keep him from falling all the time. When I skate I feel free so I also imagine eddie seeing us in that moment where there are no worries and we're relaxed

Thanks, I hope it's good enough 🙏🏻🙏🏻

The rink was super crowded when you and Eddie showed up and he hated how nervous he was. He told you that he had never been ice skating before so he was expecting to be bad even though you encouraged him, telling him that maybe he actually could be good at it.

But as soon as he stepped on the ice, all of that hope you built up quickly faded as he took a tumble right there. You were quick to help him up, taking his hands in yours and he admired how soft they were. God, he always loved holding yours hands.

And you kept hold of his as you led him around the rink, your movements nothing but smooth while his were short and slow as he dragged the skates along the ice. You thought it was adorable how he resembled Bambi, his feet moving this way and that as he kept calling your name to get you to help him.

You told him that you could do something else since he seemed so miserable, but assured you that he was fine. But really, he was miserable, but you seemed happy and he loved you so he was going do what he could to keep that pretty smile on your face.

"See, you got it," you encouraged as he stook a longer stride, moving his skates along the ice and you could seeing him getting more confident with it as he moved with you.

"Yeah, look at me," he said as he puffed out his chest. He was getting cocky and just when he was about to try a spin, he slipped, falling to the ice and taking you with him.

All you could do was laugh as you fell on top of him, finding the whole thing hilarious. And Eddie let you laugh at him because he just loved hearing it as it had always sounded like music to his ears.

But the laughter soon died out and you were just staring at each other, your lips parting as your gaze quickly looked at his pretty pink ones.

"You're so cute," you complimented as you took the chance, leaning down and pressing your lips to his. He gasped into your mouth but quickly melted into you, his hands moving up to grab onto your arms.

It was everything either of you had ever dreamed of since you has secretly been thinking about kissing each other for years now. His were chapped but still soft and they tasted like the hot chocolate you had gotten from the concession stand outside the rink. It was all perfect.

But then you realized what you were doing all too soon as you pulled away, covering your kiss bitten lips with your hand and Eddie felt his stomach plummet as he watched you look down at him in horror.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, biting down on your bottom lip, making Eddie want to kiss you all over again. What were you sorry for, anyway? You had given the man the best kiss he ever had and you were apologizing? Clearly he was missing something.

"I'm not," he says as he stands up, moving closer to you slowly before taking you into his arms with a cheesy grin. "I mean, shit, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he breathes and your eyes go wide as his confession.

"You have?" You ask and feel your cheeks flush.

"I have," he confirms with a nod and your face breaks out in a grin that matches his as you pull him in for another kiss before leading him off the rink to somewhere more private.

[yanderefarm]

Basically, nephite with a reader that's a high ranking member of their cult.

Since cults as a whole focus around manipulation, brainwashing ect ect a high ranking member of the cult would know how to manipulate the members below them as well as possibly some ranking members above them.

So, the reader sees Nephite, a cute little omega who fits with him, can easily take advantage of his position, convincing the people even higher then him that Nephite needs a wise older, member of the cult to guide him, be his darling husband and keep him in line so he becomes a good wife.

But once they marry the reader decides to constantly degrade, humiliate Nephite, saying how bad of a wife he is and the only thing he really is good for is being a hole.

Of course outside of the house he's nicer, small comments about what Nephite could do better when at a gathering, making it seem like the reader really is just trying to make him the best wife he could be, so much so that even Nephite himself starts to believe it.

Not sure how much sense that makes really and feel free to ignore this if it doesn't, English do be kinda hard (add on anything you want, this is really just brainrot from my head) (I basically stole the Emil darling special but am pretty sure if you lied that Nephite was cheating with proof he'd get murdered by the cult or get a lobotomy)

-🥺

i love this so much.

cw;; nsft, dark content, abuse, religion, omegaverse, brainwashing, dead dove, mind breaking, domestic abuse

and like you wouldn't even really have to convince the elders because "oh you're a dominant alpha and you want to make the dominant omega your wife? well of course!!!"

i always really love like how helpless nephite is despite being the yandere and the one who kidnaps you in the original story.

he has no power! if you really wanted to demean him and make him feel bad in public no one would even bat an eye. but keeping up the appearance of a really good loving husband is better because it would really help in making him feel crazy. his friends tell him that they're jealous he got such a good husband who's so loyal to the church and so good to him!! and nephite feels bad he really feels like he's a failure and a bad person and everytime he wants to talk to someone about these feelings they talk about how great you are.

you're not even as mean as you could be. you don't hit him, you don't even really yell at him. you're always doing your part as a loving husband, you take care of him and kiss him and treat him so good when he's being good. but then you come home and see he hasn't finished doing the laundry because he got distracted trying to finish dinner. you let out a disappointed sigh and just that sound makes his brain start to panic.

as far as actual punishment goes its so good to watch his own brain work against him. refusing to give him kisses or even touching him because only good wives deserve affection. making him stand next to you while you eat and relax because a good wife deserves to relax after a long day not a lazy one. he'll stand there, the humiliation a reminder that he's not good enough.

"its such a shame, you really had so much promise when you were younger."

and you don't elaborate so he drives himself insane. he's disappointed you, he's not as good as he could of been, he's worthless. he'll have to earn the privilege to sleep next to you in bed and god he'll do anything for you at that point. if he fails to (which you get to decide arbitrarily) then he either sleeps on the floor or on the couch. regardless of where he's sleeping he'll cry himself to sleep afterwards because he's so mad at himself for being a bad wife and he feels so bad about himself. if he's next to you though he can get kisses and more gentle mind breaking as you assure him you're going to make him a good wife no matter how long it takes, you're the only one who tolerates this horrible behavior of his but he doesn't need to worry because you love him no matter how bad he is.

also i think about omegaverse inspections with nephy so much dude. inspecting his privates before marriage to make sure he's still a virgin and absolutely humiliating him in front of the elders because they all have to be there to validate. once you're married insisting he wear shorter dresses at home that come above his knees and meticulously inspecting his outfits to make sure he fits your dress code. preforming random inspections of his privates to make sure if you wanted to you could sleep with him right then, fingering him and getting him slick just to pull away and say he passed inspection. making a rule that he's not allowed underwear so three times a day you make him go through an inspection, in the morning when he first gets dressed he has to come to you and pull up his skirt, when you get home from work if he's done all his chores he gets to greet you with a kiss and then pull up his skirt to show you again, and then finally before bed after he's changed into his nightgown he has to pull it up and show he's not wearing anything. the constant humiliation of it would absolutely make him embarrassed and fussy at first until his head starts to get fuzzy from all the different brainwashing and mistreatment.

once his little head is successfully mind broken he's just a ditzy smiling wife. he doesn't like to leave the house or go out with friends because that means he doesn't have enough time to do everything that is expected of him. when you get home he'll come up to you and stand very still like a doll until you decide whether or not he deserves a kiss. he's an absolute blushing silly mess for kisses! all he needs is a soft peck on the cheek and he'll start giggling and blushing like a school girl. he's such a good wife that all the younger alphas in the community ask you to teach them how to make their wives into the perfect wife. this includes some of nephite's friends so while you're teaching the alphas he does get to spend time with them again and somewhere past all the brainwashing he actually gets a sick glee out of seeing his friends who helped him be broken like this start going through the same torment and pain he went through.

[twobellsilence]

Okay, so I finally have time to write down my feelings about Mouthwashing. Especifically, Captain Curly. This gets a little personal at the end - hid it below a cut for those who don't want to see it.

The beauty of Curly's character is that he's probably the most morally gray out of the whole crew despite his intentions being objectively good; his actions come from a genuine desire to do good by all of his crew members, but this does NOT mean said actions are correct. This distinction between intentions and actions is crucial when trying to understand his character. For instance, he believed Anya and genuinely cared about her, but he also cared about Jimmy as his friend, and so he chose to "be good" to both of them, even though being good to Jimmy inherently meant making Anya unsafe - good intentions (be a good captain and friend to both), bad action (not treating what happened with enough severity and being soft with Jimmy because of his biases). Many people seem to either think Curly was simply oblivious to everything, and others even go as far as to say he was actively malicious with his enabling. But I don't think either of these are quite right, and it's because, in my eyes, this man is the living incarnation of "The path to hell is paved with good intentions".

Captain Curly is a people pleaser. He wants to keep the peace, play devil's advocate, everything to keep all members of the crew feeling well with themselves and each other, and he believes his team is as genuine and honest as him. This trust, this inclination to think that things can be solved with compassion, is what earned him his good reputation and the respect of his crew, which persisted even after they believed he'd deliberately tried to kill them. But it is this same desire to do things from a place of true care and act as a mediator that caused him to break protocol with the higher ups' message, fail Anya, and ultimately doom everyone. I don't think he was oblivious to Jimmy's flaws, but rather, like he implied in the pixel scene, he saw only "the bigger picture" and gave Jim the benefit of the doubt because he saw his perceived qualities over his issues despite knowing they were there. Of course, this perception was undeniably distorted because of his and Jimmy's close relationship, which meant he extended an inappropriate amount of trust to Jimmy despite his actions and past because he genuinely, wholeheartedly thought Jim was just misunderstood and what he did was a mistake. Jimmy played Curly like a fiddle by taking advantage of his belief that Jim was as honest as he and the rest of the crew were.

Of course, there is a lot to be said about the fact that Curly put his perception of Jim over Anya - Curly is undeniably an enabler, if a naïve one, and is at fault for the bad decisions he took about the matter regardless of his mental state at the time. He is NOT all innocent, not by a long shot. But at his core, all he wanted was to help everyone and work things out. Because he's *Captain* Curly, and he ALWAYS made it work, and in his sleep-deprived, slightly unwell head, Jimmy's interests and Anya's need for protection clashing didn't mean that Jimmy was an actively dangerous person that needed to be stopped, but rather that he was just not trying hard enough to make things better. This was exacerbated when Jimmy pointed out everything would fall on him as the captain, and he froze, because he knew Jim was right. It would fall on him, and it'd be just, because he failed to stop it. He completely failed Anya, not only as a friend, but more importantly, as a captain, and suddenly his fears of not doing enough came true.

And this is where it gets really personal for me, because I see a lot of myself in Curly. I, too, have trouble examining people's flaws. I let my biases cloud my judgement of others from time to time and allow them to manipulate me because I hoped they'd have good intentions like I did for them. I am also a mediator, a peacekeeper, a people pleaser. And I have also been an enabler. Not of things as horrible, of course - not even close - but an enabler nonetheless. And like Curly, I too have had to watch helplessly as my tendency to give everyone the benefit of the doubt damaged me, and at times even the people around me, because I kept on hoping things would work out if I kept everything "going smoothly" but they never did. The way this game makes Curly go from unable to see the dead pixel to being forced to stare at it, unblinkingly, as it eventually blows the whole screen - something HE could have prevented if he had listened to the one person who was all too aware of it being there - makes me very uncomfortable, because I've been there, and it makes me feel bare in a way no other game has done before. The situations I've been in are the size of a grain of sand when compared to the tragedy that happened in the Tulpar, obviously, but seeing such a parallel in Curly has left me shaken and invited deep introspection regardless. You can't fix everything. You can't always play both sides. Not everyone has the will to change and be better. And you must take action before said action is taken for you. All things this god forsaken game has made me think very long and hard about by showing me a man whose fatal flaws, almost the same as mine, made him lose everything and more.

[nikoniclove]

Whole List of "Ace in the Hole" Prompts Pt 2

For anyone who is interested in reading the WHOLE MASSIVE list of prompts people have sent in via private messages, AO3, or tumblr, here it is broken into numerous posts because it's so long.

One Shots (con)

i want more little things that make them tick! doesn't have to be a super kinky thing, something small. maybe they notice jj gets all hot and bothered whenever ace handles the sniper guns. or emily likes it when ace's hair is in a bun. something small like that and the teasing conversation they have once they figure out why the other person is so horny lately. (Mcdoesit)

LOVED the jewelry kink for jj, would love to see that revisited. (Mcdoesit)

i would pay so much money to have them somehow make a stupid bet about "well yeah i bet i could last longer than you could" regarding sex/orgasms. knowing them it would probably be jj vs emily or ace vs jj, but it could be all three of them. they would try to tempt each other but it would probably backfire and make them super horny. maybe ace playing the mommy/daddy card or jj/emily trying to leverage her praise kink or subspace? i just know they'd play dirty. (Mcdoesit)

would love to see ace teasing Em and JJ somewhere they can’t fuck her (maybe on a car or something) by calling them mommy/daddy when people can’t hear? Feel it would drive them wild haha. (Tumblr anon)

Ace being in a depression (Emily and JJ not having caught onto it yet) and trying to have sex with Emily to help her ‘feel’ better. However Emily decides she not in the mood or just too tried from a case and how it affects Aces depression. Specifically with feeling not good enough for them, or maybe Ace thinks they’re no longer attracted to her. (Jo_Mamaz)

Episode 11x14 - ace reaction, JJ reaction 

the first time Ace sees Emily go super rough and intense on JJ (quite early on in their relationship so it feels shocking to her), both the live event and then the aftermath of how she processes her trepidation and arousal around that kind of roughness/intensity in bed as it’s all still quite new to her (Tumblr chaotic-pyro)

Ace being on the giving end and JJ or Emily on the receiving end as top Ace is sort of a rare occurrence. They do happen to be on call but they’re trying to reacquaint with each other’s bodies since it’s been so long with all the cases. A phone starts to ring (it could be work, family, etc.) but Ace encourages one of them to answer, yet whoever answered isn’t the person the caller is looking for - whoever is receiving is the wanted one - and they try to push Ace away but she’s insistent on the other person just continuing conversation as normal.  (Tumblr anon)

JJ or Emily in some sort of life or death predicament where either JJ or Emily rashly put their life on the line to save the other leaving Ace in a state where both of her loves are at risk where she can’t do anything but wait on the sidelines and not knowing how to cope with the fear of potentially losing them both? (Tumblr anon)

considering all the gun kink stories out there, would you possibly write something along those lines with the three? thinking about it being jj or emily’s unexpected turn on (Tumblr anon)

One where they argue for the first time, jj and Emily learn that they can’t shout at ace because she isolates due to her past (Tumblr anon)

maybe a follow-up to "A Bad Day" in Different Kinds of Firsts pt.2. Where Ace is having another bad day and JJ and Emily are almost tripping over themselves to help her feel better to make up for last time. And their effort itself is so endearing and loving that it helps lift her spirits as well. Maybe JJ actually brings up that they want to do better because of how much Ace has adapted for them - possibly bringing back a conversation from "Learning to Top" about Ace swallowing down certain things so that she gets to stay with JJ and Emily (Tumblr theysaythejobisjinxed)

silly story in which emily tries to fix the kitchen sink or something but the problem she doesn’t know how to fix it so she ropes ace into it but she doesn’t know how to fix it either so they end up making it waaaay worse and the kitchen floods and everything and they’re like “jj is gonna kill us” and in fact when jj comes home she’s mad but amused nd she ends up fixing it ? and it’s just all funny fluffy goodness?? (Tumblr anon)

Ace has a fight with Emily and JJ (thinking serious but not as bad as Emily telling Ace she is a burden) before going away for work alone, maybe solo consult or testifying or something, and there is bad weather and Ace looses communication with the team. Emily and JJ are freaking out cause they are worried about Ace and can only remember that the last thing they said to her was mean and what if they don't see her again, and such. Ace is worried and trying to figure out how to fix it but the lack of contact with anyone (other than the reason she is where she is) is getting to her and it makes her miss her peoples even more (EmilyJenniferJareauPrentiss)

Ace takes JJ to a rock gym, sweaty muscles are observed, JJ’s libido is in overdrive, and then when they get home, JJ gets to enjoy the muscles up close (Nerdy_Mama)

JJ dominating ace and emily chapter.. it's been too longggg. Not just dominating in bed but also teasing them and edging both of them the whole day and then finally showing them who is boss.. something like this pleaseee (Ao3 guest JJEM)\

Where JJ is very upset with ace over something very stupid like ace ate her last piece of favourite pie of something (not really upset like getting mad but upset enough to ignore her for a bit ) and ace is going out of her way to make it up to her... going full girlfriend and sending her flowers and giving massages and stuff. And emily is empathetic towards ace but not really helping and staying out of it (Ao3 guest JJEM)

What if Emily and JJ teased and worked Ace up as they are wont to do, and when they are finally ready to let Ace come, maybe even have her tied up and begging already. Bam, either they or Ace get called away. Maybe there's a failed attempt to get Ace of over a video chat while they are away, but that too fails. And when they are all finally reunited, or maybe just Ace and Emily. Ace pins Emily down and makes her get her off because she is just too desperately horny to be shy anymore. (Attempt_137_at_finding_a_user_name)

Emily and Ace off on a consult that turns into them helping on the case. Early on in an established relationship. A local detective (who is similar to Emily in dominance and looks) is flirty with Ace. Maybe Ace has to go undercover with this detective for a small thing and play the role of a date. She plays into the part and keeps calling Ace ‘love’. Emily can do nothing but just boil in silence. Ace teases Emily a little but quickly sees the mask drop and there is lingering insecurity. Very smutty hotel moment. (Ssskeptical)

early days are good to see. Speaking of…have you done much - or anything - with the firsts before that first girls night where they actually did stuff for the first time? Because I think you said they’d been flirting with Ace for months at that point and Ace was kind of clueless in an adorable way. It could be fun to see some of the firsts even before that first girls night. Maybe the first time JJ flirted, the first time Emily flirted, the first time Ace realized they were flirting - if she even realized it? Maybe the first time JJ touched Ace in a casual, friendly way BEFORE they were anything to each other and Ace being all weird about it because she’s not used to that. Maybe the first time they got jealous of Ace before they had any reason or right to…like they’re nothing to each other but they have a thing for her and she innocently talks about finding someone cute at a bar or gets flirted with during a team outing, JJ gets all jealous, Ace has no idea what’s going on. (Ao3 Guest)

[millieisawriter]

Fishing date

kieran duffy x reader

summary: you didn't know what made you agree to go fishing with kieran, you didn't even like it. but maybe in this case fishing wasn't that important.

wc: 1.9k

all pics are from pinterest

♡this could be a standalone or a 2nd part to this fic ♡

It was safe to say you didn't know shit about fishing. Having basically grown up in the gang, throughout the years you had Arthur take you and John on fishing trips, except it didn't seem like he knew what he was doing either.

It seemed easy enough, right? Just sit by the water, rod in hand, waiting for a fish to catch the bait. But to you it was so boring. Even as a kid, you were already impossible to get to sit in one place for too long. The day your fishing rod snapped in half was a blessing, because now you had an excuse to not go. Arthur didn't mind either, he preferred taking you on more adventurous trips anyway, like hunting.

And nothing has changed by now. Even as a grown woman, you still held a certain dislike for fishing. Yet there you were, riding beside Kieran on your way to a good fishing spot that he had picked out.

Kieran was practically grinning from ear to ear, the shyness slowly disappearing the further from the camp you were. Eventually, you reached a creek, and dismounted from your horses.

"You're so quiet." You said.

The ride to the fishing spot was, indeed, quiet. This was something you expected from Kieran, however maybe not when this was supposed to be a date. Unless the girls misunderstood his intentions, and now it was actually going to be a very awkward fishing trip.

"Y-you know me," Kieran muttered, "all quiet and… all that."

And Kieran was silently cursing himself in his head for not being able to come up with any conversation. The furthest his planning went was asking you to go fishing, he didn't think about what he'd do if you agreed.

You couldn't help teasing him a bit. "All quiet and skittish, like a rabbit."

"Can you blame me? Every day I have people telling me I should've been killed off."

"Can't say I don't see why you spend most of the time with horses."

"Especially Arthur, can you believe how ungrateful he is? I- I saved his life, and most he can tell me is we're equal because he saves my life everyday he doesn't kill me."

"That's just Arthur," you chuckled as you took out a cigarette, while Kieran was preparing his fishing rod, "he doesn't mean it, trust me." You needed the cigarette to not just awkwardly stand next to Kieran when he fishes.

"It's just a lot sometimes," the man continued as he casted the fishing rod, "even the Adler woman keeps reminding me I don't belong here. I didn't know a woman could be so mean. The things she said to me, even you would be surprised."

"Even I?" You questioned, rising an eyebrow, but not in an annoyed manner. You were rather amused, and glad you got Kieran talking.

He even managed not to stutter. Maybe getting out of the camp filled him with some newfound confidence. "What I mean is… well, I guess you're just… picky with who you're being nice to. Just like your mare."

"And now I'm picky like a horse, you sure do know how to make a girl feel special." It was all a joke, you took no offense in Kieran's words, but you liked how nervous he got thinking he said something wrong.

"No, I just— I meant that, uh, you don't let just anybody get close to you."

"You ain't wrong, Kieran."

You were guarded, and you knew that. It was a choice. Even if you secretly wished to discover what it feels like to be truly loved, and to truly love someone, there wasn't much you could do.

Living constantly on the move meant that anything long term was off the table. You could leave the gang, theoretically, but you didn't want to, so you didn't ever consider it. Lastly, in case of desperation, you could always go for a man from the gang, but you weren't desperate.

And then, there was Kieran. As if some higher power had placed him in your life for a reason.

Kieran was quiet for a moment, watching his line in the water. Then he looked over at you, his eyes reflecting some kind of confidence you didn't expect. "I'm glad you came out here with me. I… I didn't think you'd say yes, to be honest."

"Well, at first I said no," you chuckled, "but then asked myself why not. Maybe I don't know how to fish, but maybe that's not what matters." Maybe what really mattered was the company.

"You don't know how to fish? Damn it, should've guessed when I didn't see a rod on you… I— I'm sorry, miss."

"First of all, it's not miss. I think we're way past that. Secondly, why don't you teach me how to fish, hm?"

You couldn't believe a sentence like this would ever leave your mouth. But a moment later you threw your cigarette on the ground, putting it out with your foot, and took the fishing rod from Kieran after he reeled it back in.

You stood by the water, holding the rod in both hands, hoping this one won't snap in half. Trying to recall any ideas of how to fish, you couldn't. You never paid attention.

"What are you waiting for?" Kieran asked, seeing you looking at the rod like a crow looks at something shiny.

"I… don't really remember how to fish."

"Oh," he paused, thinking about his next move, really wanting to do something that seemed risky, "let me teach you."

This wave of confidence was clearly surprising to the both of you. He stood behind you, from where he gently touched your hands, adjusting your grip on the rod. You could feel his warmth at your back, and suddenly you were well aware of every small movement he made. His fingers lightly brushed over yours and it, to your surprise, made your heart feel kind of tenstion you've never felt before.

"Okay," his voice happened to be right next to your ear as he guided you, "keep your hands relaxed, but not too relaxed. Just like this."

It was weird how out of place you felt. Screw the fishing rod, it wasn't that. The last time a man got this close to you was seconds before he ended up with his throat slit, but you weren't going to do that to Kieran.

"Now, when you cast," he continued, making you painfully aware of how attractive his voice actually was, "just swing, let it happen naturally."

You tried to focus on his instructions, you really tried you best, but you were so distracted, so overwhelmed. The closeness, the warmth, the sound of his voice left you uncharacteristically shy.

"Just like that." Kieran said, guiding your hands in the right movement, and all you did was just... well, be there and watch the catch fall into the water.

You managed to ask. "And now what?"

Kieran chuckled as he pulled away, a light blush on his face. "And now we wait. You'll feel when a fish catches the bait."

"Thank you, Kieran." You glanced at him with an awkward smile.

The two of you stood in silence for a few minutes, listening to the water as you waited for a fish to catch the bait. Kieran seemed content just being there with you, his face calm with a hint of smile, his eyes watching the line.

"How long does it usually take?" Your impatience started to show. As always, you were never the one to stand in one place for too long.

"There's no rule, just— hey, I think you got a bite!" Kieran's eyes lit up. "Let it pull, it's good if the fish gets tired."

You really wanted to just yank the fish out, it would've been way easier and quicker. But this could break the second rod in your fishing career, and that one wasn't even yours.

Kieran's hands were on yours again, now gently showing you how to deal with the fish as it put up a fight, to then slowly reel it in. The fish was desperately trying to break free, only tiring itself out with the attempts.

And finally, after a few moments, you pulled the fish out of the water. It was still trying to put up a fight as you hold it up in the air by its tail.

"Look at that!" Kieran laughed, pure joy in his voice.

You couldn't help but smile at him. "We did it! You helped me catch my first fish!" You turned to glance at the sky, seeing how the sun was soon going to dip below the horizon. "Maybe we can set up a small fire here and eat the fish on our own?"

Kieran's eyes slightly widened at your offer, in a good way. "Y-yeah, sure." And there he was, right back to that shy, stuttering boy.

You chuckled softly at his reaction. "I'll set up the fire, you take care of the fish."

And the two of you got to work, Kieran cleaning the fish meanwhile you set up a small fire to cook it. Pearson always ruins the good stuff anyway, so there was no harm in the two of you having a secret little dinner.

"You look like you know what you're doing." You commented, glancing over at Kieran.

"I kind of had to figure it out," he confessed, "I was a kid when my ma and pa died, had no one else."

Maybe you shouldn't have asked. Everyone in the gang had some kind of sad story, you as well, and most of the time you just never talked about those. "I'm sorry." You muttered, finishing up with the fire, a small flame appearing underneath the branches you've gathered.

"It's okay, we all have a past." Kieran replied. "I've seen you with a gun, you're pretty good for someone that shouldn't even know how to use one." He laughed, hoping you wouldn't take offense.

And you didn't find the comment offensive, you knew he didn't mean it in that way. "I've been running with the gang since I was little, Dutch took me in around the same time as he did John. At first it were just Arthur, John, and I, with the adults."

"Must've been tough for you, growing up with the boys."

You shook your head and smiled. "It was fun, Arthur taught me and John how to shoot, and Hosea taught us how to read, and if I had any girly problem, I just ran to Bessie or Annabelle... back when they were alive."

"I guess I've never had that. You all seem to... look out for each other, like a family. Meanwhile Colm goes through men like he goes through cigars."

You knew the Van der Linde gang was far from family, but it was the closest to a family you've ever had, so you were grateful for it. You all looked out for each other, just trying to survive together, running from the reality of how fast America has been changing lately.

You smirked at Kieran. "Are you saying our gang is better?"

He chuckled. "Actually, yes. I don't wanna say I feel like I belong here, but... well, that is how I feel."

Then you understood that. Kieran wasn't just some former O'Driscoll held captive by your gang. He wanted to be here with you all. He chose to belong. He was one of your own.

You didn't even realize you were watching him with a big smile on your face.

Noticing the smile, Kieran asked, chuckling, "What?"

"Nothing," you replied, even though your heart was saying something different, "guess I'm just glad you're one of us now."

[foreverxdaydreaming]

x

[toytulini]

if you draw enough monster ocs, when you go back to drawing a human character, it feels like "sameface syndrome" everytime, by virtue of their face being. human.