#that sounds way better and it's a pun

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

Ramble time about Makoto and a little mini headcanon I came up with cus why not B]

Sometimes, I like to believe that Makoto gets really deep into stuff. Basically him in his own little world, hyper-focused to the max such as him cleaning, research, planning. Stuff like that. In the peak level of him in this state, he'd go, burst into a room, rummage around for anything he might need, and leave all while anyone who was in the now ransacked room is just 100% ignored. Bursting into rooms with the determination of the Kool-Aid Man (def not the strength tho) Makoto doesn't even remember that there were people in the room either. He could have been in a room with 58 other people for instance and if you quizzed him on how many people were in that room he'd just blank out like "People? What people?" This applies to whoever he lives with as an adult as well as way back with his parent's and sister. I can see his parent's never getting why he'd zone out like this. Like, they've tried to get it cus they of course wanna understand this weird part about their oldest child. They never really succeeded with it though and just accepted it as one of his weird quirks. Meanwhile, Komaru teased the shit about it to him cus of course she would. After all, it's the little sister privilege to completely dunk on the older sibling. 'Tis the law. Plus, it's not like it's the biggest piece of ammo she has on her older brother. This is Makoto we're talking about after all. Also, cus why not, (might as well be a BIT self-serving hehehe) I'm slipping in my mini headcanon of Makoto, Kyoko, and Byakuya living together casually in the same apartment/small house. Plus, it's funny imagining these two experiencing Makoto's little moments like this. Feel Kyoko would be more used to Makoto basically forgetting her existence when he gets into these hyper-focusing grind moments. Even when she first learned about it, I doubt it'd affect her much. Like, what is she gonna do? Have a little grudge for a solid week and a half with her roommate and lowkey boyfriend? And, besides, what idiot would have a grudge going on for that lon- oh right... Byakuya exists. Yeah, unsurprisingly, the heir is the type to be petty as shit about something like this. Has 100% without fail been disappointed to some extent and bummed out whenever he gets ignored like this. Or ignored in general. At the end of the day, he's a bit of an attention whore (the bit taking it lightly) It's his tsundere way to act like a needy, bastard cat. He'd basically take it personally while Kyoko's shaking her head cus he's taking it personally and Byakuya's all like "Tch. Stop making the assumption I'm taking it personally" and they go back and forth about it during the week all while Byakuya side eyes Makoto who's very much not aware he's even done anything wrong. His little stunt only happened once that week and he doesn't even remember Byakuya being in the room with him while he was rushing about their living quarters looking for junk like some toothpaste and a hanger. And this goes on until the week ends until Byakuya's basically over it, Kyoko gives him the whole "I told you so" look which for her is just her regular expression but with one of her brows slightly raised which she may or may not be actively trying to raise it higher but can't cus that's as far as it goes. Also this is a common occurrence for them all at least once a month. Oh, and the week is the minimum amount of time for Byakuya to hold a petty grudge for and they've lasted way longer ^v^

[st4rstudent]

winn and doe is so real, i love random little ships like this, platonic or romantic

random ships make the world go around if you think about it

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

btw happy día de la almudena to c tangana and nathy peluso in specific

[rebelfell]

rub one out┃(for your viewing pleasure-verse)

pornstar!eddie x director!reader

a cheeky (pun intended) bit of filth based on part of my blurb series. I was trying to keep the snippets short, but this just kinda poured out of me over the past couple days.

cw: sex work, simulated adultery, oral (fem receiving)

18+, MDNI┃2.8k

Maybe this was a bad idea.

You couldn’t escape the nagging thought as you stepped outside, tightening the belt on your fluffy white bathrobe, tugging at the terrycloth tail and twisting it in your fingers. Your eyes flitted to each member of your crew, all of them in position waiting to get this show on the road.

Why were you so nervous? You’d certainly done this enough times before not to get stage fright. So why did your stomach feel more tangled than the box of electrical cords in Lenny’s truck?

Part of you almost wished it would rain, or the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you didn’t have to go through with this. But the concrete remained solid under your feet, and the sky overhead showed no signs of altering its radiant blue color. Perfect.

It’s gonna be fine, you thought in an attempt to soothe yourself. It’s all gonna be fine.

And you almost believed it would be.

Sammy, who was barely a step up from an intern, had swiftly been promoted once the plan for you to replace your no-show leading lady was set in motion. You weren’t worried about her, though—she was smart and a quick study; she knew all the shots you needed, and she had a good eye.

If you couldn’t be behind the camera yourself, she was pretty much the only one you trusted.

Well…maybe not the only one.

Eddie’s eyes met yours as soon as you stepped out of the trailer. The sunlight hit his deep brown irises, making them glow the color of rich honey. But behind the liquid gold, you could see his own nerves and it made your stomach flip, wondering what he could possibly be nervous about.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he came up next to you. “You good?”

For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better by now when it came to Eddie.

“Nope,” you chuckled. “I’m kinda shitting myself.”

“Well, that’s just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,” he chuckled back.

A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine when he hears it and the sight makes your chest feel all warm inside.

“No, you’re right,” you said. “I’m okay, I just…don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

His plush pink lips pressed into a straight line, his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out a reassuring hand and placed it on your shoulder, rubbing it through your robe.

“You’re gonna be great,” he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.

Easy for him to say. He’s a fucking natural.

Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at it—competent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all the way you felt since getting behind the camera.

You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He then leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.

“You look…really beautiful,” he said.

His warm breath rushed across your neck, the heat coming off his skin making your ears buzz. An explosion of fluttering began in your stomach, like there were butterfly cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they were all hatching.

“We should get moving,” you said, pulling back. “Burning daylight.”

Eddie straightened. He nodded and you nodded back, sliding past him to do final checks before you started rolling. Telling yourself he must have pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there before he came over to talk to you.

The nerves didn’t disappear once you started working, but your body and brain did snap into a kind of performance mode you remembered well.

You started with some still photography for the VHS box art—shots of you in progressing states of undress, your robe dropping off your shoulder, Eddie pulling it open to reveal your body, his hand running up your thigh in a slow caress.

He let it trail all the way up your stomach and chest until he curled his finger under your chin and tipped your face toward his, letting his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and your heart raced, thinking he might close the gap and actually kiss you—

But after the shutter snapped, he simply let his hand drop and backed away. 

The loss of his body heat sent a chill down your spine and you shivered despite the blazing sun overhead. Eddie’s eyes caught yours, the nearly imperceptible lift of his brow asking, ‘you okay?’ You nodded and another shiver skittered across your skin as you pulled your robe back up.

For the next shot, you climbed up on the massage table and he got into position behind you. His body pressed yours down, your back arching under him as he dipped his head low to take the lobe of your ear between his teeth, palming your exposed breast with his large, strong hand. 

You let your mouth hang open, not even needing to fake the look of desperation on your face. And let yourself believe Eddie’s excitement you could feel digging into the fat of your ass was real too. The little grunts and whines he let out when you wriggled against him certainly didn’t sound fake.

After the photos, there was nothing left to do but move on to the main event. 

You and Eddie reset—him standing in frame, you just outside of it. Sammy panned the camera around, establishing the setting, zooming in on the fountain feature in the pool and then coming around to film Eddie as he snapped a fresh towel and laid it out on the massage table.

From your spot off-camera, it’s impossible not to be mesmerized by the sight. Biceps rippling, tendons in his arms flexing as he smoothed the towel flat. His tattoos stood out even more than normal with him in white slacks and a white polo meant to give the impression of him being an employee of the resort. And the little twist your hair and make-up girl Jael did is something new that only further accentuates the thick column of his neck and his angular jaw.

He’d left off his rings and bracelets, as was typical when he was filming, and you couldn’t help but think about that day in the editing suite. When he’d touched your knee, and you felt the silver ridges press into your flesh. It had jarred you somewhat, how right it felt to have his hand there and how you’d nearly leaned in to meet his lips when you saw his face getting closer.

You hadn’t kissed him that day—promptly removing yourself from temptation in an attempt to salvage some shred of your professionalism. And you (mostly) felt good about that decision. It would have been reckless and destructive and your entire working relationship might have been compromised. You’d made the right call that day, you were sure of it. Mostly…

But today was different. Today, it wasn’t going to derail your career. If anything, your career was mandating you give in to those urges that had plagued you so relentlessly. And that was when it hit you all at once—the realization about as subtle as a train crashing through a wall.

You were going to fuck Eddie.

You’re going to feel firsthand what it’s like to have his face and cock buried between your legs; what it’s like to suck on his fingers and soak them with your spit before he presses them to your clit; what he sounds like when he comes all over your stomach or tits (you can’t quite recall what the script specifies, you just know it’s meant to be outside so he can dotingly clean you up after). 

The barrage of thoughts that storm through your mind are so consuming, you nearly miss your cue to enter the scene. But once you do, you’re rather grateful for the distraction of the set-up dialogue:

“It’ll just be me, today. My husband has a meeting he couldn’t get out of.”

“No, no, it’s not his fault. I got it as a surprise for our anniversary—I should have known better than to book it without checking his schedule.”

“I’m afraid I never know how much to take off for a massage…what do you suggest?”

Eddie answered your last question with a smooth, “Whatever makes you most comfortable,” and a smile so warm it would melt the ice caps.

Giving him a smile of your own, you slowly pulled at the tie of your robe. It fell to the ground in a heap at your feet and Eddie’s dark eyes roved over you hungrily. Now revealed to be completely naked, you feigned some degree of shyness: ducking your head low, looking up at him from underneath your lashes, brushing your hand over your stomach as though to hide it while really drawing his eyes to its plush softness.

“Is this alright?” you asked him with a coy smirk. Eddie grinned, still drinking you in.

“Absolutely,” he breathed. And the raptness in his eyes almost had you believing him.

You took your time getting up on the table, propping yourself up on all fours, letting him (and the camera) take a good, long look at the fullness of your hips before you settled in place. Arms at your side, you took a deep breath as you laid flat on your stomach, relieved there wouldn’t be much dialogue needed for this next part.

Through the little donut headrest at the end of the table, you saw Sammy’s feet as she moved in close—filming tight on Eddie’s hands while he pumped massage oil onto them and warmed it by spreading it between his palms.

Your chest tightened, nerves coiling in your stomach as you anticipated his touch, forcing your body to keep still so you didn’t pull focus.

He smoothed some oil over your skin, starting at the ankles and thoroughly coating your calves. The smell of clary sage filled the air, earthy and warm. And underneath it, a clean and woodsy scent you recognized as Eddie’s soap wafted up to your nose when he leaned in closer.

His fingertips began to knead your muscles, slipping and sliding easily over your skin that was slick with the oil. He made tiny circles with his thumbs, alternating back and forth as they moved in a steady pattern up your calf.

Oh, that’s right…

In all the hubbub, you’d forgotten the whole concept for this shoot was borne on the fact that Eddie went to massage school for real. He’d told you before, after he left his hometown (shit, what was it again? Hawk-something…) that he started collecting different jobs like merit badges.

Just bounced from thing to thing, trying his hand (sometimes both) at whatever life presented. And that included porn. He’d said he only auditioned for that first film he did because someone he’d slept with a handful of times knew a casting director and suggested he’d be good at it.

“He certainly had the dick for it” were her exact words, if you recalled. Strange to think in a way, you might owe that girl your career.

Through the pleasurable haze your mind dipped into having Eddie’s capable hands erasing every ounce of stress you carried in your muscles, you realized he was moving the scene right along while you just lay there humming and moaning with relief at his practiced touch.

He’d lowered his voice to that deep, rumbly register he always used when he was building towards the next phase. His DM voice, as he so affectionately dubbed it. Rough and gravely, yet even and tempered, guiding both you and the audience along on the journey of this fuck.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying…but your husband’s a jackass for missings out on this.”

Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as he moved to your thighs. His fingertips dug into your flesh, kneading it like dough, letting his thumbs swerve dangerously close to your center.

“You deserve someone who puts you first…who knows what he has and worships you…”

One of his thumbs swiped briefly over your puffy lips, and you knew he felt how wet you were.

“You know, I’d never let you out of my sight if you were mine…”

His words dripped slowly and intentionally past his lips, his hands creeping higher and higher up your legs. At last, they slid over the globes of your ass and he groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, spreading you apart to see your center, soaked with arousal that had been pooling there, truth be told, from the moment Eddie had told you how beautiful you looked. 

You heard Eddie’s next line in your head before he said it, “If you really want to relax, I can try a very special technique. I don’t do it for just anyone. It’s a little bit…unorthodox…”

And you were more than ready to take him up on his offer once he delivered the line. 

But Eddie went off script.

Instead of hearing words, you felt the wet heat of his tongue glide through your folds as he buried his face between your spread ass cheeks. Your head popped out of the headrest, letting out a breathy moan of surprise and delight.

The shock on your face was evident as Sammy pushed in close to capture your expression, but so was your pure and utter elation. You’d never felt anything so good in your life…

And it seemed you weren’t the only one.

Eddie groaned loudly as he lapped messily at your folds, his spit mixing with your slick that covered the bottom half of his face. And it was only after a few blissful seconds of eager licking that he even realize what he’d done.

“I’m—mmph—sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” He panted out in between sinful swirls of his tongue, his he words muffled by your ass cheeks because he couldn’t stand to pull away even a little, even long enough to speak. “I had to taste you…”

”It’s okay,” you answered, voice already wrecked beyond belief. “It’s okay, just keep going—”

The command is directed at him as much as it is the crew, who only panicked slightly. Eddie never did stuff like this and they just weren’t ready.

They got back on track quickly enough, Sammy signaling the boom mic to get as close as he can without dipping into frame in order to pick up every lurid slurp and suck of Eddie’s mouth.

After no more than a few minutes, the fluffy towel under you was bunched in your fists and your hips squirmed as Eddie continued to eat you out like a mad man. His tight grip on your ass cheeks held fast, spreading you wider still so his tongue could probe deeper. The sounds he pulled out of you didn’t even sound human to your ears, let alone recognizable as your own voice. 

But you didn’t care.

However you sounded, however you looked, it was superfluous to what Eddie was doing and the precipice he brought you to. Your orgasm hit harder than any drug, than any physical blow. It had you shaking uncontrollably, reaching back to grip the hair at the crown of his head as your hips pushed back to meet every thrust of his tongue while you rode out your exceptional high.

You felt its tingling sensation spread to every inconsequential inch of your body, like an ocean of fire that crashed over you in wave after wave of scorching pleasure. Drowning you in it.

When you finally found the strength in your limp limbs to roll over onto your back, Eddie’s eyes were waiting to meet yours. You could see on his face how sorry he was, how worried he was he’d fucked up. And you tried to communicate with him in that mind-melding, wordless sort of way you and he always did that it was fine—that people were going to love it.

Cocking your brow at him, dipping into a more salacious tone to really sell the transformation from demure housewife to lusty adulterer, you threw in a little adlib of your own.

“That’s some technique you’ve got there,” you teased him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “My husband’s certainly never done that before.”

Eddie’s sly smile returned, his lips curling as he reached out to grip your waist. He hauled you closer with one jerk, bringing you to the edge of the table so your hips were flush with his. The bulge in his white pants was harder than ever when it pressed against your cunt, and he grinned wickedly when he felt just how ready you were for more. He yanked up the shirttail of his polo and whipped it off his body, tossing it behind him where it landed half in the pool.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted softly, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Tysm for reading! 🛸 comments and reblogs keep your skin clear and your crops watered 🫶🏻

[pomefioredove]

may I please request Headcanon of the overblot gang + Adeuce when a reader that’s normally very sweet and shy goes absolutely apeshit and TEARS INTO some bully, absolutely roasting the hell out of them please? Thank you :3

of course anon!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ going apeshit!!!!

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

being the magicless newcomer makes you a favorite target for some of Night Raven College's less kindly students.

your loved ones know this, too, so when a group of brutish first years approach, they're ready to defend you. except...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Riddle had seen them coming towards you and already had his hand on his magical pen

how stupid of them to pick on you in his presence

a week or two without their heads would serve them well

but before he can even step between you and the ruffians (very gallantly, I might add; he had it all planned out in his head),

you just...

...oh

even he blushes at the profanity you spew

he didn't even get to scold them

...then you turn back to him with that same sweet smile as if nothing had happened

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace had actually been the first student to get an earful from you

once at the beginning of the year, and never again

now, he takes great pleasure in watching you verbally eviscerate the other students

it's a... guilty pleasure, we'll say

and Deuce knows not to intervene

he tried... once

after all, he's been in your place before

nothing's better than the feeling of putting some snob in his place

BUT OF COURSE, that's the old Deuce

...he just lets you go on because he knows he can't stop you

...not because he's enjoying it. obviously

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

and here Leona was, thinking you were some helpless little herbivore...

but can you blame him?

you're always so... cute

skipping around Savanaclaw, all happy to be helping out Ruggie and Jack after practice...

you were bound to run into trouble, looking like an easy meal

he almost feels... bad for you...

but before he can step in and tell the freshies to buzz off, you...

damn, you've got a mouth on you

you switch up real quick on them, and they scamper off to go lick their wounds

color him impressed...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul was on his way back to the dorm when he heard you shout

you sounded... upset

and as much as he would like to, he can't just walk by and let you get bullied

damn sympathy...

so, he follows the sound of your voice, ready to intervene... on...

...nothing

a group of embarrassed freshman run past him, scattering in the opposite direction

he steps around the corner

and there you are, perfectly fine, if not a little winded

...of course

and he didn't even get to be your hero... tch

"Always full of surprises, aren't you? Just don't give Floyd any of those new words to use,"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

it's none of his business... it's none of his business...

until it is his business

Jamil wouldn't have come running to your rescue like some prince

but he is in the middle of a civil conversation with you!

how insulting! honestly!

those freshmen must take him for some kind of witless fool

just this once, he'll teach them not to disrespect him...

of course, he doesn't even get a word in

he's never seen anyone so...

so...

...brutal

your insults are poignant, your tone sharp and dangerous, your usage of puns perfect...

you're like a work of art

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil has no problem with putting others in their place

and he has a particular dislike of the brutish, arrogant students at NRC

he can actually sense their unwashed presence in the hall before he sees them

one little snide comment and...

...oh...

oh, my

you verbally tear them to shreds, insulting everything from their shoes to their posture, their cowardice, even their own insults

...goodness

he's going to have to have a talk with you about your language later

but, for now...

...he's enjoying this little performance of yours

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia starts the most heated discourse over his faves and biases online, but this is different

this is real life

and the second he can feel a shift in the atmosphere, he's hiding behind you

you can handle it yourself, right? you've done it before!

honestly, he has no clue how you deal with the normies at this school

delusion, probably

he'd die if anyone talked to him the way they talk to...

...NEVER MIND!

you're using words he hasn't even heard in real life

even he is freaked out

you can get real scary when you want to, huh?

...maybe he'll just stick with you for now...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he actually kinda sorta wanted to defend your honor...

he could be your fairytale prince!!! he could!!

it's the gentlemanly thing to do, anyway

and, better yet, he wouldn't even have to say anything! just one glare from him and the perpetrators would run screaming

...the one benefit to his reputation

but, of course,

you are not as innocent and weak as you seem

and he can't help but feel... impressed? with your ability to defend yourself

after this is all over, he'll have to joke that you should join his guard

[bandgie]

Good Pup

human!minho x puppy!reader x puppy!seungmin

synopsis: Minho is certain that no matter how much you disagree, your new weredog friend, Kim Seungmin, is not someone he can get along with. However, they have no choice but to team up when your first heat makes its way into the night. Maybe you were right, they do get along, even if it's just a little bit.

7.3k words (damn)

warnings! MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 3some, PIV, no protection, knotting, biting (slight blood), jealousy, bff!minho, coworker!seungmin, double penetration, heat, sex pill, pussy eating, humping (brief), super light mxm themes, minho and seungmin don't like each other

In this world, Minho thinks there are two types of people. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with what kind of job you work or what your passion is. It doesn’t even matter if you’re a hybrid; the ones mixed with all sorts of animals with human DNA. No, none of those matter to him. People, fully human or not, all boil down to one thing.

Cats or dogs. 

See, Minho likes to think of himself as a cat person. Someone who prefers to have leisure in their own time. Someone who doesn’t need constant stimulation from people or conversations. He’s content with being alone, satisfied even. Maybe Minho doesn’t have a furry tail or pointed ears that flick at the slightest sound unlike the werecats he sees daily, but his human identity doesn't stop him from thinking of himself - or anyone for that fact - as either cat or dog.

Despite living a rather secluded life, Minho doesn’t mind the few friends he keeps close, both human and feline. He does, however, mind dogs like any cat would. They’re too noisy, too needy, and too happy for no god-damn reason. Being surrounded by so much energy drains him quickly, and although Minho likes to think of himself as a lover of all animals, dogs are just… difficult. So you being one of his closest friends is such a mystery to him.

It doesn't matter how many times you’ve seen Minho. Your tail always swishes when you see him approaching, even now through the crowd of people. It wacks the nearby pedestrians walking and you embarrassingly apologize, grabbing your shaggy tail to try and prevent it from moving. And no matter how many times Minho sees you get so giddy just by looking at him, he smiles. 

Just a little bit. 

“You’re gonna kill someone with that thing,” he says once he’s close enough. You roll your eyes at him, the complete opposite of the thumping of your tail in your grasp. “Oh shut up. You made me wait in this heat. I should kill you for that.”

“In front of all these witnesses? You’d make a terrible hitman.” Minho can tell you’re irritated even with your happy tail. Your floppy ears are down, sweat beads on your forehead, and trickles down the sides of your face. The nails on your fingers are darker and sharper than usual. He recalls you complaining about the heat, but the forecast showed cloudy skies. Minho would hardly call it a hot day, not even a warm one.

Something’s up.

But like any cat person, he doesn’t say anything about his observations. “I say we get out of the sun and into the convenience store before you start plotting my murder. I’ll pay.” It’s his way of trying to make you feel better with whatever you’re stressed about. It seems to work by your nodding. Your tail is relaxed enough for you to set it down, using the back of your hand to wipe the perspiration that drips down to your neck. “That sounds good. And you don’t have to worry about tonight. The company’s paying for the dinner and drinks.” That familiar wolfish smile finds your lips, pulling back enough to show pointy canines. 

Minho is always captivated by your mouth. The way it can twist so inhumanely from the plumpness of your lips to the sharpness of your teeth. His eyes lower just for a split second before he says, “Even for me? A plus one?”

“I’ll make sure,” you say with certainty. “They’ve been working me like a dog, no pun intended, and this is their way of making up to everyone busting their ass to make deadlines. If I don’t get my Scooby-snack, I will actually kill someone.”

That sputters a laugh from him. Minho takes his place beside you to begin your journey to the market while giggles keep spilling. “If you’re Scooby, does that make me Shaggy?” There’s still a smile on his face even when you shake your head, following his steps. “Nah. You’re more like Scrappy-Doo.”

-

Okay, there is something definitely wrong with you. Minho is well aware that weredogs enjoy being in close proximity. There have been multiple occasions of your tail tickling his arm, of your skin brushing against his while you walk. Hell, he’s even indulged in kinship by patting your head and letting his fingers caress your ears. It usually doesn’t take much for you to be satisfied with those simple touches, but today you seem…needy.

And it’s not just Minho who notices. Customers, humans and were-creatures alike, see how much you cling to him. The tail that was happily dancing half an hour ago now wraps around his torso. He can feel it against his back and he finds himself enjoying this strange hug. 

Minho would usually say something. Maybe tease you and tell you to keep your tail to yourself, but something tells him that isn't the best idea right now. 

You’re hardly talking. The yapping puppy he’s so familiar with is nowhere to be seen even though you're right next to him. Standing so close that he can feel your body heat that he swears is hotter than usual. 

Maybe he should enjoy the peace and quiet that he rarely gets with you, but Minho is itching for his pup. 

“You okay?”

There, he said it. Minho is so used to you talking without being asked to the point that he covers his ears just to drown out your words. You would whine, ears pulling down while tugging at his arms. “Listen to meee!”

But instead he has to coax it out of you this time. You pull your attention away from the snacks to look at him. “Huh? Yeah no, I’m good. I have been feeling out of it recently but I think it’s just my job. Sorry, am I being boring?”

Reassurance. One of the most common needs for a weredog. To hear that they’re needed with some praise. To put it in simple terms, you want to hear that you’re being a good girl. At this point, Minho is willing to do and say anything to get you back to normal.

“Boring? I never said that. Hanging out with you is the highlight of my week…even if your furry friend keeps smacking my back.” And just like that, your eyes shine with both happiness and embarrassment. You take back control of your tail and scold it, “Stop annoying my friend.” You swat at it gently and push it back down behind you. 

Minho doesn’t even notice his hand reaching out to pet you before he can stop it. His soft palm makes contact with your hair, ruffling it before moving to your ears.

People nearby stare but Minho hardly cares. There’s something about bystanders knowing the reason for your soft rumbling and gleeful expression is because of him. Weird want, but Minho’s heard that weredogs just have that type of effect on people. Plus, Minho’s your friend. Friends are always there to help each other out and Minho just happens to be your best.

It doesn’t take much after that to get you back to your talkative self. 

“Like, I just feel bad, ya know?” You say, reaching for a meaty sandwich in the deli section of the convenience store. “No one talks to him at work and he’s always alone at lunch. Like, yeah he has a scary face and doesn’t talk to anyone, but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.” A triple meat sandwich catches your attention and Minho watches your curved nails reach for the packaging. 

Minho inspects the drinks. “Maybe he has that scary face and doesn’t talk to anybody because he doesn’t want to talk to anybody.”

You roll your eyes, adding your find to the small basket looped around Minho’s arm. “Yeah, and I could say the same thing about you.” You poke his broad chest with a nail. The pain is hardly there, but Minho fakes a wounded expression and grabs his pec dramatically. “I'm bleeding!”

“Oh shut up. You’re just trying to change the subject because you know I’m right.”

“Right about what?” Minho ditches his act. “About the fact that I don’t like talking to anybody? Good job, Sherlock.” The good job makes your tail sway just slightly and Minho smiles when he sees it. 

“Oh? Then what are you doing right now with me?” You cross your arms and stare at him.

“Replying.”

“Which is…”

“Communicating.”

“And another word for that is…”

“...Moving my mouth.”

“You’re impossible.” you laugh. “Anywho, he just reminds me of how it was when we first met. You being brooding, quiet and me being awesome, of course.” The two of you venture further down the aisle. “What is it that you once told me? Something about people being dogs and cats?”

“Dogs or cats,” he corrects. “What about it?” Minho abruptly stops his steps when he sees jelly. Despite being human, you can practically see his pupils grow wide at the sight of them. 

“So based on the description I gave you, which do you think he is?”

Minho doesn’t answer immediately, can’t when his favorite dessert is quite literally on display. So many choices, so many flavors. He should buy one of each for taste testing. A couple of seconds go by before he registers your question. “Oh. Um, you said he’s like me?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“Then cat, obviously.” Minho chooses a coffee and vanilla flavor. He imagines you’ll prefer the coffee one. When he turns to face you, he’s surprised to see that you’re smiling, as if already knowing he was going to say that. 

“But get this,” you hop on one leg to the other in weredog behavior. “He’s a were-dog! Like me! I don’t know what breed but I’ve never met a fellow pup so…cat. You might like him.”

Minho scoffs at your playful wink, “Don’t try setting me up on playdates. I’m fine with the friends I have now.”

You whine, a high-pitched noise coming from the back of your throat. It used to startle Minho, but now he’s grown accustomed to ignoring your complaints until you’re both at the counter emptying the basket. 

The cashier is a young werefox. He has slender eyes that stick out, enhancing his hard jaw and smooth skin. As if tired of the day, the said fox scans the items lazily, saying a standard, "Is that gonna be all?” before shoving the goodies in a black bag. 

“Well, whatever,” you smooth your puppy ears. “He’s gonna be at the dinner tonight, so you’re meeting him regardless.”

For some reason, the fox suddenly looks interested. He picks his head up and looks between Minho and you. He sniffs and jolts. Minho narrows his eyes, subtly tucking his head to his armpit and smelling. Does he stink? Minho’s thinking about changing his body wash when the cashier sniffs again, but his eyes lock on you instead.

In all werefox manner, the cashier shifts his gaze to Minho and gives a sly smile. “These are on the house.” He snatches a package so quickly off the counter that Minho can’t tell what it is as the cashier shoves it inside the bag. The fox slides the purchases to Minho, looking at you once more before winking, “Have fun tonight.”

Minho is quick to get you both out of there. Your ears are up straight, tail hanging loose between your legs while looking back. Since your tail isn’t tucked between your legs or abnormally stiff, Minho thinks he shouldn’t be too worried. But the encounter was strange, no matter how brief. 

“Did you know that guy?” You say once you’re waiting for Minho to unlock his car. 

He shakes his head, “Nah. Let’s just go.”

You don’t argue with that. Your ears flick at the sound of the door unlocking and you quickly find your seat inside the warm car. The image of the cashier crosses your mind and you look at Minho. “What’d he put in the bag?”

But Minho had already tossed the said bag in the backseat. He shrugs, “Don’t know. I’ll check it out when I get home.”

Short sentences, indirect messages to tell you to drop it. Minho is in his cat mood as he ignites the car to life and puts it in reserve. Normally, you’d crack a joke. Saying something to lighten the mood or change the subject, but you’re starting to feel hot all over again. Minho had just put the A/C on, but the warmth of the car has you heating up even more. You feel nauseous and Minho’s human scent plays no aid. Sometimes you get car sick and you’re assuming it’s one of those times. You close your eyes and breathe, telling yourself that you’ll feel better once you get home and take some medication.

It doesn’t matter how sick you are, you have a company dinner tonight that your best friend is attending and you’ll be damned if you missed just because of a little bug.

-

Minho is absolutely not taking his eyes off you tonight and no it’s not because of how good you look. Sure, maybe your button-up shirt stretches at the top because of how tight it is against your chest and yeah, maybe the black pencil skirt does wonders for your ass but those are not any of the reasons why Minho is watching you like a hawk. No, he’s stuck watching how you’re trying your best to pretend like you aren’t on the verge of turning into a puddle of sweat.

Even the other were-dog you mentioned earlier, Kim Seungmin, notices your strange behavior. Minho sees that his ears are up and that his tail swishes unsure. Still, none of that matters from how giddily you seem chatting it up with him. Something about managing to meet deadlines and confusion about the new code in the system, but it’s all white noise to Minho. 

You’re close to Seungmin - a little too close. Minho tells himself over and over that weredogs have an instinct to want to be close, but that doesn’t mean he has to be happy with it. 

It looks like your tails are dancing together as they swish, though yours is more erratic. Seungmin’s eyes travel everywhere and Minho is so close to leaning over you just to push him away. 

“And the new code we have to use?” You groan. “I absolutely hate it.”

“You?” Seungmin challenges. “Hating something? I don’t believe it.”

Minho watches you scoff, watches the color of your face flush. It’s from your fever, he thinks. He hopes. 

Why on Earth would you think he would be able to get along with someone like Seungmin? He was far too quiet when you happily introduced Minho - you’re best friend may he remind you - and didn’t so much as ask what type of job he works. Seungmin may be a cat, but Minho is starting to think he’s beginning to prefer dogs.

The male weredog leans closer to you and Minho straightens. He can hear how deep he inhales before Seungmin turns his head to the side, one ear flopping over. “Are you wearing a new perfume? It smells nice.”

“Oh, thank you.” You turn to your side, finally looking at Minho and smiling at him. His heart squeezes at the sight, how your eyes shine just looking at him. “Minho got it for me a while ago, but I only wear it on special occasions.”

The smirk on Seungmin’s face vanishes once he makes eye contact with Minho. And just like that, the moody expression Minho once wore turns smug. There’s a brief moment between the two men that you don’t see. A dirty look, a sneer, a smirk. It’s such a short interaction that speaks volumes. 

Seungmin may be a dog on the outside, but that deadly look screams cat.

“God, why is it so hot in here?” You fan yourself with a hand, looking between your two friends. “I feel like I’m turning into a swamp.”

Minho glances at other people nearby. Your co-workers are drinking, eating, and talking about anything but how hot it is. Your fever must be getting out of hand and Minho is planning on asking you if you two should leave before Seungmin says, “When did your fever start?”

“Um,” you rub your hands together in an attempt to get yourself to stop feeling so antsy. Minho places a friendly hand on your knee. Nothing he’s never done before to soothe you, but you react as if he’s burned you. It feels like his hand sends shivers throughout your body and you can’t help but jolt. A soft whine leaves your lips, and poor Minho who can’t seem to notice that your distress is from his touch, decides to rub his thumb onto your skin.

What feels like buckets of arousal seep your underwear. You get the sudden urge to hump, a stupid weredog antic that you can never seem to get rid of. Your legs tense and you almost close them in an attempt to get some friction with Minho’s hand before you remember that Seungmin asked you a question. 

“M-maybe a week ago or something? I think I just ate something bad.” But when you look at Seungmin for his response, he isn’t even facing you. His focus is on your lower half, watching with a predatory look in his eyes as Minho gently strokes his thumb on your thigh. Maybe you should feel weird that your co-worker is looking at you in such a way, but it strangely adds to the sensation Minho’s providing. 

Seungmin inhales and groans, too quiet for the chatter of your company to notice but enough for you to accidentally snap your legs closed with Minho’s hand captive. 

Then finally, Seungmin looks up between you and Minho and nods to the front door. 

“Meet me outside.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he grabs his jacket and leaves. A few coworkers complain and question him, but he silences them with a mere glare and a respectful, apologetic bow to his boss.

You and Minho look amongst each other and he carefully slides his hand out from the crease of your thighs. The two of you miss the warmth from the touch, but Minho is a little more concerned with how you’ve started to paw and grasp at his hand to get it back on you.

There was such a sense of urgency in Seungmin’s voice. As much as Minho was irritated with how he was looking at you, there was genuine worry there. It would be easy for you two to ditch Seungmin and leave on your own, but something tells him there’s more than just a stomach bug going on. 

Minho takes his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers. He nearly hisses at how hot your skin is, but you only howl with satisfaction.

He stands, taking you with him, but your boss is quick to stop you from leaving. “Hey! Now where are you two going?” Shit, of course it wouldn’t be as easy to leave. 

“I think she’s had too much to drink, sir.” A lie. You haven’t touched a single drink, but no one here is sober enough to know that. “It would be better to have her sleep it off so she can make it to work tomorrow.”

Minho hopes his excuse is enough and from the belly laugh that your boss gives, he thinks it is. 

“I like the way you think! Make sure you take care of her. We’ve got a big project coming up and I need my best workers.”

A thank you, a quick bow, and Minho is quick to grab your things and lead you outside. To his luck, you play the drunk girl perfectly. Your full weight is on his shoulder that you’re leaning on, breathing into his neck and trying to nip his skin.Your tail is so out of control that you whack him and you as Minho walks to Seungmin. 

No, this isn’t a fever. 

And Seungmin is quick to confirm that the moment he sees how much you’re clinging onto Minho. He covers his mouth and nose with his hand. “Fuck. Your heat's getting bad. Why the fuck did you come in the condition?”

“I-I…no! Seung, I’m not. I can’t.” That seems to snap you out of your trance enough to answer him, but not enough to separate yourself from Minho. 

“Heat?” Minho looks at you questioningly. Didn’t you tell me the doctors said you that your animal DNA is too small for heat periods?” Which he believed without question. Minho has known you for years and you’ve never had a heat in that time. Not so much as a story to tell or any suppressors he’s seen.

You look like you’re about to cry even with the hazy look in your eye. “They did! It’s way too late for me to experience my first heat. I’m just sick.”

Seungmin scoffs. “Sick? I don’t think so. Listen, the point is, you need to leave. I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but you’re going to attract were-males with your pheromones.” He looks around protectively and then back at you, putting his hand down. “Okay, I don’t mean to come off weird, but do you think you can…handle it on your own?”

There’s a silence between the three of you. Minho blinks rapidly. Did he hear that right? Is Seungmin, this man he just met tonight, really asking to hook up with you? In front of him? Your best friend?

He must have a death wish. “What the fuck are you saying, man?”

Seungmin averts his gaze to the other male. “Was I talking to you?”

“Seungmin!” You scold.

“Nah, you don’t get it, human. She’s in heat. You’re not going to be able to properly calm her down, or worse, she’s gonna go into a frenzy because you can’t.”

This is exactly why Minho can’t stand weredogs. They’re too obsessed with something that’s not even theirs. “And you think just ‘cuz you’re a dog you can? You don’t know me and you don’t know her. Get your snout out of our business.” Minho pulls you closer. “We’re leaving, let’s go.”

He only manages to get a few steps away before Seungmin spins him around. Being so close to him, Minho realizes he’s taller, but not by much. The ears add the illusion of extra height. It’s the piercing gaze, however, that makes Minho feel small. “Tell me, Minho, have you ever been with a were-female?”

“That’s none of your business. Fuck off.”

“I’ll go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt and say sure, maybe you have once or twice. But have you ever been with one during their heat? During their first heat? Do you know what a weredog even does in heat? What they need? For fuck's sake, your stupid nose can’t even tell the difference from last week to this week.”

Seungmin takes a step closer until his chest is almost touching Minho’s. So close that you can smell how your heat is affecting him. 

“I’m not doing this for a quick fuck and I’m sure as hell not doing it for you. Despite what your little human brain might think, I care. I care enough to make sure that she’ll go home safely and get properly taken care of. I’m not thinking of myself, unlike someone.”

It feels like a slap on the cheek. Minho’s jaw is so clenched that his teeth begin to ache. He wants to tell Seungmin that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that he’s wrong - but shit, is he really? Minho isn’t well-versed in weredogs outside of friendships and the hookups he had were all feline or human. It hurts to admit, but he doesn’t know. Minho doesn’t even know what to do with you still clinging onto him and dipping your hands up his shirt to feel his skin.

Fuuuck this.

Minho lets out a deep sigh, almost as if it hurts him to say, “You're not getting in my car. Just follow behind.”

And follow Seungmin does. On the road driving far too fast the speed limit, on the sidewalk leading up to Minho’s house, to the front door that you wobble to, up the stairs that inevitably lead to Minho’s room that you barge into. 

The bed is the first thing you go to. Neither of the men have a chance to lay down any ground rules before you bury yourself between the sheets. Minho stares as you inhale his blanket, grabbing his pillow and biting down on it with your canines. It only takes a second before you roll onto your stomach and grind on it, effectively humping his favorite pillow.

No, he isn’t staring anymore, he’s gawking. Minho nearly flinches at the amount of drool his poor pillow has to endure. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or what?” Seungmin rasps out. The voice breaks Minho’s attention, and although he knows the weredog beside him is male, he still jumps at the sight. 

Seungmin is full of want. His ears are up straight, his tail swishes as if he’s watching a prey, his teeth are bared with a hint of saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, and if Minho looks down, he could see the outline of a bulging- 

“Mmm sorry,” you whine. “Smells so good. Min’ smells so good.” Your hips press up and down deeply, getting that nice friction on your clothed cunt. It looks cute, strangely, to see how desperate you are for a release. Minho would have liked to enjoy the scene longer if it wasn’t for Seungmin losing his patience. It takes a mere three strides for Seungmin’s long legs to reach you, his eyes pupils blown wide.

Within a second, Minho is beside him.

“Don’t get any-”

“Praise her,” Seungmin chokes out. “Pet her, touch her, fuck! Just do something. I’m going crazy.” He forces himself to back away from you, opting to pace around Minho’s room, trying to look for anything to distract himself from the rut he’s about to go in. Seungmin reaches for the bottom of his shirt and begins to hastily undress. He doesn’t even spare a glance at the human when he says, “Get her undressed. Weredogs need skin contact during their heat.”

Easier said than done. You’re clawing Minho’s skin affectionately and reaching for his belt. He feels like he’s wrestling you if he ignores his boner. He manages to unbutton your top, shaky hands reaching back to unclasp your bra but you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. Your legs wrap around his torso and bring him in, his cock to your cunt through the many layers of clothes.

“No, takes too long. Just put it in me. I’m so wet already.”

Your voice is a whisper in his ear. Minho realizes it’s because you don’t want Seungmin to hear. To sweeten the deal, you grind on his crotch. Minho’s knees are fully on the bed, giving you a much better angle to hump him instead. 

You let out the smallest whine. The tiniest sound of pleasure from something other than masturbating, but Seungmin hears it. He whips his head quickly and rushes to you two with a small package in his hand. 

Minho’s able to make it out when he gets closer. It’s from when you and him went to the convenience store earlier. When the fox cashier shot his sly smile and said, These are on the house. Have fun tonight. 

“I don’t even want to know where you got these pills,” Seungmin tosses the package to Minho. “Take it now. It should have an effect within 5 minutes.”

Knot Cock! The package reads. INSTRUCTIONS: take 5-10 minutes prior to intercourse with weredog. Do not mix with other genitalia-morphing pills. drowsiness and mild pain are- 

“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin moans. “Your pussy smells so good.”

Minho rips the package open and discards the warnings. He can read it later. Right now, he’s focused on dry swallowing the pill, finally removing his clothes, and helping Seungmin take off your skirt. 

Strings of arousal stick to your underwear as the material goes down your legs. You whine at the cold air, but Seungmin is quick to reassure you. “Good. Good. You’re doing such a good job. I’m almost done, baby.”

A scowl appears on Minho’s expression when he glances at Seungmin. It’s hard to just look at his face when the two men are naked. It’s far too easy to notice the flush in Seungmin’s chest and cock. How different, yet similar, it looks to his own. 

They’re doing this together, why is he taking all the credit? He’s not even supposed to be here, he’s just helping. “I got you,” Minho emphasizes. He places his hand on your bare thighs and gently spreads them apart. 

In all its glory, your cunt shines with arousal. For a brief moment, the men stare. There’s no arguing with your pussy doing all the talking, wetness seeping through your folds as if it’s crying. It’s only seconds they take time drooling over you, but too many seconds too long. You impatiently reach your hand down and spread your lower lips, using your other hand to rub your fluttering hole.

“Please, pleaseplease-”

Seungmin moves first, much to Minho’s displeasure. A growl emits from his chest as Seungmin peels your hands away from your cunt. Saliva drips down his chin - down his neck. Minho thinks he might eat you, but Seungmin opts to devour your cunt.

The sound that leaves you is more of a howl than a moan. A noise of appreciation and pleasure at every swipe of his tongue. Seungmin’s throat vibrates with his grunts, it bobs with every gulp. You thread one hand into his hair and the other entwines with Minho’s fingers. Minho can’t tell if he’s squeezing your hand or if you're squeezing his, but it doesn’t matter. Not when a foreign haze begins to take hold of his senses, a pressure in his cock he’s never felt before. 

Minho tears his gaze from Seungmin eating you out to see his cock enlarged. He’s never seen it so big and red. He’s especially never had a ring at the base, a near-identical state of Seungmin’s. The shock almost distracts him from the urge he’s getting - the urge to push Seungmin aside, to have you close to him in every and any way possible. 

Crap, the pill is working a lot better than Minho would have guessed. 

To try and fight the effects, Minho leans down to get a taste of your cunt. The scent of you grows stronger, but Minho isn’t able to get his lick in when Seungmin pulls away to growl at him. Much to Minho’s horror, he growls back. The men bare their teeth, a clear sign of intimidation and Minho doesn’t back away from even with Seungmin’s sharp canines. 

You, however, notice the clash of pheromones. You hear the snarls loud enough to pick your head up and focus your dilated pupils. Roughly, you move your hands to grip the back of their heads and force them into your cunt. They bonk their foreheads slightly, a soft whine coming from Seungmin and a final snarl from Minho before they succumb to your taste. 

They can’t notice how their tongues mix and clash, or maybe they do, but sucking on your clit outweighs the fact. You can’t find yourself to care when their tongues move as if they’re fighting. One muscle pushes the other out of the way just for it to do it back. It’s almost cute if it was in any other situation, but you still smile and moan when one tongue flicks your clit.

Without needing to speak to each other, the men silently agree to move together to hear you again. Starting towards the bottom of your clit, Minho and Seungmin glide up. You tremble and squeal when the tips of their tongue continuously flick at your bud, but they graciously dip back down. Looking at how they suck your clit only amplifies the feeling of pleasure, but you can’t look away. It’s a hypnotic sight, watching their tongues lap up and down, watching the saliva spread to your thighs and pelvis from how much they lick. 

You could cum just like this, looking into their eyes with your cunt in their mouth, but you don’t want to finish like that. Your heat makes it so that it feels painful to be empty no matter how their tongues tease your entrance. The only thing you need to be satisfied is to be full. So full of cum that it leaks for weeks after. To be stuffed and properly bred into with any male. They may have fought in the beginning, but you’re beyond elated for your first heat to be with them.

It’s far too hard to use words, not when you're panting and moaning with every lick, but you manage to get out small, nonono’s that make Seungmin’s ears perk up. Minho takes the opportunity to fully be on your cunt, sucking and dragging his tongue while Seungmin paws up to you.

He doesn’t have to ask, his eyes say it all with the worry and arousal in them.

“Fuck me.” Gosh, you’ve never been so direct before. “No more licking just please. It hurts.” You place a hand on your stomach, emphasizing the emptiness. “Wanna be full.”

Minho swears when Seungmin rips his head from your cunt. He;’s forced off with Seungmin’s fingers in his hair. Minho might have snarled again, but he heard your begging. Heard how the two of them eating you out did little to help your heat. It was only a matter of time before either of them was inside you, but the real question is who. Maybe Minho would have been more open, thinking more logically, about letting Seungmin go first, but the drug in his system makes it so the most important thing is having you to himself. 

The look Minho gives Seungmin is deadly. “I’m going first.”

Seungmin doesn’t so much as acknowledge his words - can’t when he’s already stroking his cock and balancing himself on his knees. Minho hates how he succumbs to the drug, shoving Seungmin so hard that he nearly falls off the bed. “I said -” But Seungmin doesn’t let Minho finish, interrupting the older male with a just-as-hard push.

“Stop,” you all but whisper. They look at you and the expression on your face makes them obey, save for the teeth. “I…I want both. Can’t I have both?”

Is that even possible? Minho can only imagine how difficult it would be to take two cocks, let alone knots that will surely have your pussy expanding. It seems like Seungmin is thinking the same thing based on his confused expression, but his rut makes him just as clueless as Minho.

The men look at each other, eyes clear for the first time in a while. No words are needed to come to a silent agreement. Minho tucks himself between you and the bed, flipping you the other way until you’re chest-to-chest with your best friend. Seungmin stays on his knees on the bed, his cock pointed at your entrance. It takes a bit more adjusting before you’re nicely sandwiched between the two and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Their scent covers you perfectly with their skin on every inch of yours. 

You’ve never gotten the experience to nest, but you assume it feels something like this.

Minho’s erection sits between your thighs, hot and heavy. You should feel weird, gross even, having your closest friend getting ready to fuck you. That feeling never happens. Not even as you lift your hips for Minho to grab his cock and angle it towards your cunt.

“Tell me-” He moans when you slide your cunt against his tip. “T-tell me if it hurts.”

You would have laughed if you could. Feeling genuine pain seems impossible in your state, but you nod anyway. 

Minho doesn’t waste time rubbing his dick on your cunt. His cock is throbbing so painfully that the only relief is sinking into you.

Inch by inch, he enters. The tip flares more than it normally would, not that you would know, and the stretch has you whining into his chest. His scent calms you and you suck on his skin to further soothe yourself. Minho isn’t going as slow as he wants to. He’s trying to open you up gently, but your cunt is so warm, so soft, that he can’t help himself from fucking into you until his artificial knot prevents him from going deeper.

Veins bulge from Minho’s neck. He’s never had sex like this - he’s never had such an urge to claim, to breed. His cock is unbelievably sensitive and your pussy feels like heaven. He groans, hands going to your ass to squeeze the pulp flesh. 

It’s then that he feels a different set of hands that he’s reminded of the actual male were-dog. “I’m in. You can-”

Seungmin, who’s been patiently sitting, pushes into you without any further instruction. The intrusion makes you yip from surprise. Minho’s ears pick up on the sound and a sense of inhumane protection overcomes him. He thinks you’re in pain from the small howl, but you moan almost immediately after. Seungmin thrusts into you much quicker, much faster than Minho had initially. 

“Finally.” It sounds guttural from Seungmin’s throat. “Been waiting forever.”

Unlike Minho, who at least tries to savor the feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock, Seungmin ruts into you. The force of his thrusts makes you rock against Minho’s length. You let out little squeals and whimpers with every move right into Minho’s ear. If he wanted, Minho could finish just like this. With Seungmin’s cock rubbing against his own and your pussy moving just enough for some friction.

But Minho doesn’t want to just cum.

He wants to carve himself in you. To make his mark in the deepest part of you. Minho places his feet flat on the bed to properly thrust. It only takes one time to have you biting down his chest, your sharp teeth digging painfully into his skin. 

“Fuck!” Minho’s flesh tastes of salt and desire. “Fuuuuck…”

Seungmin puts his hands on your lower back, causing you to arch at just the right angle for their tips to kiss your cervix. They buck up into you with different tempos, one going in while the other goes out. It’s an endless feeling of being filled. You swear you can feel them touching the back of your throat with how deep they are.

Distantly, you can feel the wetness of Seungmin’s drool dripping onto your ass. Pulling your teeth from Minho’s chest, you turn back to see just as you thought. Seungmin’s eyes are blown wide, tail stiff and pointed upwards with his flat tongue hanging out. He probably doesn’t even notice the mess he’s making on your back with his eyes locked where you three connect.

Minho groans at the welt from the wound you’ve left, but the pain is quickly forgotten at your tightening walls. He's astonished, truthfully, at how much your cunt can open. How eager it is to be pumped and used until it’s satisfied. Words can’t seem to leave him though, he can’t tell you how much he loves feeling your cunt and Seungmin’s cock working together. 

No, instead, the noises he’s making are eerily similar to Seungmin. To try and quiet himself, Minho buries his face into your neck. He licks and sucks the skin there, gripping your ass harder as he manages to finally match his pace with the were-dog.

With your scent (and with the help of the pill) he understands why you bit him. What better way to claim you than both on the inside and outside? His teeth graze the sensitive part of your neck. You whine, lifting your neck higher to allow Minho better access. It’s not as easy to do with your body jolting from their thrusts, but Seungmin is quick to help.

He uses a hand to grip your hair, lifting you so high that your chest completely lifts from Minho’s. You whimper at the sudden movement, but the men are quick to kiss each side of your throat in apology. The new angle has you gushing overwhelmingly. Minho might have to buy a new mattress entirely.

“Feel that?” Seungmin glances at Minho. “Feel that pussy clenching?”

Minho can’t find the will to pull his lips away from you, so he looks back at Seungmin in acknowledgment. 

“That’s her telling us to cum in it. Ready to be bred like a good pup, huh?” He shakes his fist with your hair in his hand. 

You let him wiggle your head, nodding along with the movements. Seungmin grunts with approval and keeps your neck bare to them. Their movements grow sloppy, suddenly unable to keep a solid rhythm with their cocks pushing deeper and deeper until you know it’s only a matter of time before their knots fill you. You feel your saliva drip down your chin and Minho is gracious enough to kiss the drool away. 

Seungmin’s claws dig into your back and scalp and Minho’s blunt nails squeeze the flesh of your ass. They snarl, though this time, it’s far from how it was before. 

“Shit. How are you still so tight with two cocks in you?” Minho grunts out. His teeth nip your throat and Seungmin mimics on the other side. “So close, pup.” Seungmin sucks harshly on your bruising flesh. “Gonna take our knots so good.”

“So good,” you confirm. “Give it to me. Min’... Seung’. I need it.”

It’s in unison that they bite you. Minho’s dull teeth hurt compared to Seungmin’s pointed canines, but the stinging on your neck is nothing compared to the stretch between your legs when they force their knots in. You nearly scream from the intrusion, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finally, finally cum with every cell in your body.

Your cunt expands with the spurts of cum from their cocks. It’s impossible for anything to drip out of your cunt, their dicks are perfectly made to ensure your pussy swallows everything. Their growls are loud in your ears, possessive and satisfied with their knot being buried in you. Minho is first to pull his teeth away from you, licking the mark better until he moves to a different spot to suck. Seungmin, on the other hand, opts to bite harder, ensuring his teeth will leave marks you’ll have to cover up. It’s not until he tastes the familiar metallic tang that he pulls away and pacifies the sting with his lips.

Seungmin releases his grip and you collapse on Minho’s chest. The men give shallow thrusts to further guarantee that you’re stuffed before you whine and twitch. Their hands soothe your body to coax you further into relaxation. 

Minutes pass by before Minho thinks he’s ready to move. He tries to pull his cock out, but he’s met with resistance as if his dick and your pussy are actually molded together…with Seungmin’s, unfortunately. 

You bark out a cry from pain - not the good kind - and Seungmin growls with annoyance.

“What the fuck?” Minho looks bewildered. His confused eyes find Seungmin’s. “Why can’t I move?” You’d laugh if you weren’t so fucked out, or if the throbbing between your legs was bearable. Seungmin clicks his tongue and laughs colorlessly. “Cuz we’re knotted, pretty boy. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while. Literally.”

[sushiyuzu]

mountain man

warning: fluff — husband!sylus surprises you with his facial hair for the 1st time 🧔

dragon's heart | sylus fanfic book

"oh my—"

"no."

"oh my g—"

"quit it," sylus cuts you off, turning his head slightly but clearly not quick enough to avoid your staring. you're standing there, mouth hanging open, eyes wide as you take in the sight of him. he’s grown a beard. a beard and a moustache. and they actually look good.

you blink rapidly, trying to process the new image of him that’s now permanently burned into your brain. "since when did this happen?" you ask, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

"not long," he says, shrugging nonchalantly like it’s no big deal. but you can tell by the tiny twitch at the corner of his lips that he’s enjoying your reaction. "figured i’d try something different."

"different? different is an understatement," you mutter, stepping closer, eyes locked on the sharp lines of his jaw. his facial hair is neatly faded, not scruffy or unkempt, but perfectly trimmed in a way that looks... deliberate. you almost hate how well it suits him.

without thinking, your hand reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against the edge of his beard. you pull back instantly, gasping. "oh my god, it’s sharp!"

sylus smirks, clearly amused. "that’s what happens when you grow a beard."

"it tickles!" you laugh, rubbing your fingers together where they touched his stubble. it’s coarse, prickly, the kind of texture you wouldn’t expect on him.

"you’re acting like you’ve never seen a beard before," he teases, leaning back casually, arms crossed as he watches you process this new version of him.

"not on you," you retort, narrowing your eyes. "you always keep your face smooth. what happened to the sylus i knew?"

"he evolved," he says, deadpan, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "is this better or worse?"

you hesitate, squinting as you take another closer look. he looks... different, yes, but not in a bad way. there’s something oddly charming about the beard, the way it frames his face, makes him look a little more rugged but still polished. like he’s stepped into a new version of himself.

"i hate to admit it, but..." you sigh dramatically, "you look kinda hot."

sylus raises an eyebrow, clearly pleased. "kinda?"

"don’t get cocky," you warn, though the grin spreading across your face betrays you. "i’m just surprised, that’s all. i’m not used to this... mountain man version of you."

he chuckles, reaching up to rub his own jaw, the sound of his fingers brushing against the coarse hair somehow making the moment even more real. "mountain man? please. this is still low maintenance."

"low maintenance, my ass," you laugh, shaking your head. "you’ve probably been checking yourself in the mirror every five minutes to make sure it’s perfect."

he shrugs again, unbothered. "i like to look good."

"you always look good," you mumble, almost under your breath, but he hears it.

"oh?" sylus smirks, leaning in just a little, his voice low. "is that a compliment?"

"don’t push it," you grumble, trying to hide your smile. you can still feel the sharpness of his beard on your fingertips, the way it tickled when you touched it. the memory makes your cheeks warm, and you find yourself wondering how it would feel against your skin if he kissed you now.

before you can dwell on that thought, sylus reaches out, taking your hand and placing it back on his jaw. "here," he says, a challenge in his eyes, "feel again."

"i already did," you say, but your hand stays where he put it, fingers trailing along his stubble again. it’s sharp, tickling your palm in a way that sends a strange shiver down your spine.

"told you," he says, his voice softer now. "i’m still me. just... with a little more edge."

you roll your eyes at the pun but can’t help the smile that creeps up. "fine. i’ll allow it. but don’t expect me to get used to it right away."

"take your time," sylus says, pulling you closer. "i’m not going anywhere."

you snuggle into his chest, resting your head against his shoulder, the familiar comfort of being wrapped in his arms mixing with the new feeling of his beard brushing lightly against your forehead. it’s different, but in a way that makes your heart flutter just a little more.

"you’re lucky i love you," you mutter.

"i know," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, the tickle of his beard making you giggle against him.

and as you relax in his embrace, you realize that whether clean-shaven or not, sylus will always have the ability to surprise you—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

"i love you most, sweetie."

backup acc: @sushibelle

[starry-songs-canvas]

Take Care of Him

The boy, who had Damian’s face, couldn’t be more different than Dick’s (alive?) baby brother.

Aside from his Snow White hair, he smiled and laughed freely, making puns on top of his embarrassing story about his supposed twin brother.  

(“Clones don’t have childhood memories right?  So if I have an embarrassing story or two, that’ll give you a way to check that I’m not a clone AND give you ammunition for teasing!”)

“—And that’s how his face—and his pride—was forever wounded by Sparta the warrior cat!”  Danny finished his story with a flourish, cracking up immediately after.

“Huh, and to think he left it at “training”, obviously he didn’t think anyone would let the cat out of the bag.”  Dick said, laughing even as he eyed the lookalike.

Danny snorted.  “Yeah, I doubt he thought anything as Cat-astropic as that would happen.”

They sat in silence for a moment, overlooking the buildings below, with the Dalv. Co. Labs smoking in the distance and the breeze blowing past the two, yet only seeming to affect Nightwing and not the phantom beside him.

“Is he safe?  Is he happy?” Danny murmurs as he looks up at the stars, looking every bit the forlorn ghost he claimed to be.

“…We keep each other safe.  And I’d say once he got past the stabbing faze, he’s pretty happy in Gotham.”

“But I’m sure it’d make him happy to see you again.”  Dick thought back to the comments the vampire-ghost they’d fought earlier.  It didn’t sound exactly, “happy” or “safe” for Danny.  Or anyone else involved.

Danny shook his head.  “Nah.  He’s… moved on.  And with how crazy my after-life is?  I’m already dealing with ghosts, ghost-hunters, and my—err—that frootloop from earlier.  I do not need to add furries and murder-ninjas to the mix.”

Danny sighed as he floated into a standing position.  “Speaking of which, if you could just, maybe not tell him you saw me?  Better to let dead dogs lie.”

Danny’s piercing Lazarus green eyes looked at Dick and he saw the exact same expression B had on whenever he “had to do it alone”.

“Just, take care of him, Kay?  Or I’ll haunt you to the ends of the universe!”  He said, throwing up a peace sign as he turned invisible.

Dick snorted, “Yeah, sure kid.”

Dick got up and started off toward the bat-plane.  He had a brother to interrogate, and another brother/clone of his brother to find.

[angelltheninth]

Hazbin Hotel Men + Predator/Prey Kink

Pairing: Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Husk, Valentino, Vox x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, dom/sub dynamics, fear play, cnc, rough sex, predator/prey dynamic, dirty talk, name-calling, creampie, biting, marking, size differance

A/N: Trying out a bit of a different format to give you all a bit more content.

You pressed yourself against a tree, your nails digging into the bark, breath coming up short and fast. You could see, feel the shadows against your feet even now, remind you that there's nowhere to hide. You risked peaking behind you to see if it was safe to run. As soon as you turned the static came from your other side.

"Not very smart are you, my dear?" Alastor's long tongue licked the side of your neck and made you jump at the cold sensation. "Where are you off to so quickly?"

His shadows wrapped around your body and pulled you down against the dirt. You groaned and struggled against them, against his cold arms as they grabbed your cheeks and kept your face still. "How can you get so hard from this?" You felt his long cock twitching against your inner thigh. Your legs opened for a moment and then closed just as fast.

This wasn't fun if you weren't putting up a fight. "Your fear. I find it very arousing for some reason. I've never felt this way before. So, if you would allow me to express my deepest thanks." Alastor's sinister laugh sent shivers down your entire body. As he pushed his cock into your pussy you couldn't quite relax under him, seeing his radio dial eyes tick and tick with each thrust. "I can hear your heart. It beats only for me, for what I do to you. I want it for myself, I want you for myself, always."

Alastor's pulled his cock out and waited o hear your heart beating faster. That was a good rhythm to fuck you to he decided. The rhythm of fear and lust that you feel for him.

The house you were in felt like royalty was living there, but not the kind one would want to wine and dine with. Lucifer was the kind that liked to chase you through the empty halls, the sound of his jolly laughter and wings flapping close behind you. "Is this all you're got sweetheart, I expected a bit more from my future wife."

"Then maybe you should look for someone else." Your suggestion got you punned against the nearest walls, legs forced open and his hands holwing your wrists. "Why hide us? Are you ashamed of me, Luci?"

"Ashamed of you? Never." Even in his most horny Lucifer found himself cherishing you. He was careful not to scratch you with his horns as he kissed the side of your neck. "I don't want anyone to intrude on this moment. I don't want anyone else to see you like this. It's selfish but I've already committed enough sin as it is."

He didn't care about sinning if sinning meant feeling your sweet pussy around his dick. "Then we shouldn't be in the hallway." You tried to push him off but that only got him to push his hips all the way against yours, the slight curve of his cock rubbing against your inner walls. "Fuck you and your perfect body."

"Mhm, go right ahead. I welcome it." His pace was slow on purpose, made to drive you mad with lust. He wanted you to chase him as much as he chased you. "Go on, don't you want my cock? You better show me how much you want it." Lucifer growled as he bit your shoulder, drawing blood and making your pussy ripple around him. "My cute painslut, how rough do you want it?"

You gulped and turned to meet his demonic eyes and bloody lips. "If Heaven won't see us then make them hear us."

"Where the fuck do you think you're going little slut? I don't remember telling you you could leave." Adam's big hand wrapped around your forearm and squeezed. "I thouht I told you not to leave my bed till my dick goes soft. Imagine my surprise when I find you sneaking around my house like this." He got in close to your face, anger evident on his masked face, in his tone, you could even imagine his cock pulsing with it.

"Sorry, I thought you'd had enough." You tried to pull away but he squeezed harder. "Adam, that hurts."

He scoffed at your complaint and pulled your smaller body against his. Golden wings dragged on the floor behind him, making him look as much of an angel now as he was a demon in bed.

"You bet your hot ass it hurts." His other hand wrapped around your hip and scooped you into the air. "Wrap your legs around me. Right this damn second." He wasn't good but you still couldn't bring yourself to disobey him. "That's a good bitch. If only you were so good before I wouldn't have to punish you now. You made me leave my comfy bed for this, you better make it worth it for my dick. You hear?"

"Yes Adam, sir." You let your head fall against his chest as he pushed his thick, huge cock into your sensitive pussyhole.

"That's it, make my dick wet, yeah, like that." He cooed against your ear and wrapped his wings around you, the soft feathers caressing your naked back. "Ride my cock and beg for my forgiveness."

You hooked your legs around his hips and rose up, staring into his golden eyes. "Sorry. I'm sorry for not listening to you, sir." You licked your lips and sat back down on his cock, feeling it splitting your cunt open. "I'm sorry for leaving you. You can punish me as much as you want."

"Hell yes I can. I will. Now you're not getting off my dick all day, for real. You'll be such a pretty cocksleeve today." Something similar to a warm smile flashed across his mask before replaced by a lecherous grin.

Cats were natural predators so it wasn’t odd for Husk to suggest to chase you. He had more than one advantage, his quick cat reflexes as well as his wings. You’d lose no matter what.

“Not much of game if you lose so easily, darlin’.” Husk pushed your head against the hard floor. “You should have given me more of a challenge.” His barbed cock dragged along the outside of your slick pussy as you tried to push your hips against him harder. “Bad girl, you can’t just take whatever you want.”

You chuckled and spread your legs more so he could climb on top of you better. “And why can’t I? You already know I don’t have your stamina yet you suggested I run all over the city. The casino was my last resort.” More specifically the only casino that he still had left. It was his safe heaven. And it meant you could do anything you wanted in here.

Husk purred against the back of your neck as the tip of his cock caught on your entrance.

“Such a shame. We need to work on you stamina. You need to be able to keep up with me. Or else you’ll never keep up with me in my rut.” His cock sank in easily, aided by the wetness from your pussy. “Opening up for me so easily. But you know, I’m debating on giving you what you want. I think I’ll keep you pinned like this and not let you move an inch.”

Shit. This did some back to bit you just not in the way you expected it to.

“I’ll make you move.” You clenched your inner walls around his cock but Husk was more stubborn than most demons in Hell. He wouldn’t fold easily, not even to you.

“Keep massaging my dick sweetheart. Get all the cum out of it okay, I’ll keep us tied together.” His teeth nibbled on your shoulder while he spoke. Not only would you have his cum marking you when you walked out of here but also his bite marks.

Valentino owned everything and everyone in the Studio. That included you. When he says keep still you’re still, when he says open up you open up, when he says run you run. You won’t get far, but he lets you make it just to the door before you feel his arms wrap your your hips and lift you up into the air. “No, no, no, not outside. You know I can’t let you do that without me, my darling. There are dangerous people out there.”

Two of his hands held your legs open while the third one played with your pussy, right in front of the door where people could see. The embarrassment flushed through you and you realized that running to the door might have been a mistake. You had the whole Studio to play in yet you chose this as your destination.

“Will you punish me for trying to escape?” You tilted your head to look up at him right in time for him to cup your jaw and capture you in a kiss.

“My whore knows me so well, that’s why I like you best of all.” Valentino tasted almost sickeningly sweet, his taste made you as dizzy as his big cock being pushed inside your tight pussy. “It’s so tight already. After all that time time you spent with my cock in your cunt today.” His claws dug into your thighs as he flicked your sensitive clit, causing your overstimulated yet full pussy to obey his touch and squeeze down on his cock.

You were good for him but you still craved this, the hard, punishing thrusts if his cock. “Give me… your cum… please, Val.”

“Asking to be breed like a bitch in heat where everyone could see you, now I know you’re fit for this job. I always choose my toys well.” Valentino’s cock pulsed as it emptied it’s seed inside your womb and pushed it in while his hips smacked and press against yours. Your pussy squeezed around him as much as it could, silently begging for more.

This wasn’t a typical chase. In fact Vox insisted he could find you and make you come without even exiting his news room. You could run anywhere within Pentagram City, he could always follow you. “Wrong turn.” You heard his voice in your ear and a second later felt a pleasant vibration in your pussy.

You leaned against the brick wall for a second. You weren’t allowed to catch your breath, the vibrations only got faster, along with the slow thrusting motion. It made walking hard let alone running. But you still did, you’d play this game of his and you would get your prize.

As you turned around the corner you looked behind, half-expecting him to be there. The vibrating toy sure made it seem that way. It was modeled after Vox’s cock after all, all the way to the patterns running to the tip of it.

“Vox, I want to go back.” You breathed as you pressed against the wall, legs shaking and thighs dripping with your pussy juice. “I want you to fuck me.” You demanded not fully knowing if he could hear you too. A chuckle echoed around you, confirming that he could. The toy stopped for a moment before it started going so fast your legs could no longer hold you. You fell down on all fours, legs spread open and ass in the air, just barely hidden from the view of everyone but Vox.

“Lift your skirt, let me see what’s mine.” Shaky hands obeyed his words, giving the camera’s around the perfect view of the toy thrusting in and out of your drenched hole, your hips swaying back, trying to find more release. “Come for me, pretty girl.”

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch 1: Here’s Your One Chance | Next | Ao3

MDNI

Vampire! Poly! 141 x Plus size! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A permanent darkness rests over the city. Cold, too. Despite living here your whole life you’ve never quite adjusted to the artificial nature of it - to the shadow hanging above the miles and miles of city and the constant chill on your skin.

Really, you aren’t meant to be here. This place isn’t built for humans despite the mass that live within the confines of the city’s dome. It’s made for creatures - beings of the night that stalk and rule. The air has become rotten in the lower neighborhoods over a century due to pollution and overpopulation. It will turn your lungs black before the age of five without the proper protection.

Apartment buildings are crowded and decent living conditions are hard to come by. Many have a waitlist longer than the human lifespan. Most operate on a dorm system - at least one person per room. Randomly assigned of course, based entirely on who can pay the rent. You’ve lucked out enough to earn a shitty studio to yourself. It’s cracked and crumbling but the locks are tight and it has a window - even if the view is just a building across the alleyway.

You squeeze into a black mini dress, tying your hair up to show off the double string of pearls on your neck. They’re the nicest thing you own - the only thing worthy of this club. The only thing that can project the image needed to get proper tips. Red lipstick as a final touch. It’s corny, you know, but the vampire clients are always suckers for it. Pun intended.

This job is important. There can’t be a hair out of place. This is your chance. Your one chance to make enough money to get out of the slums. To at least make it to the middle city. You can practically hear the grime on the sidewalk as you make your way toward the metro station. Dirt and debris so caked into the very air down here that you have to wear a respirator as you go. It’ll leave marks when you first take it off, but they usually disappear by the time you’ve made it from the depot to the club.

You don’t bother with sitting on the train. Hell will freeze over before you chance catching whatever new disease has grown in that Petri dish. Instead you join the rest of the patrons in awkwardly standing in the center of the cart, damn near falling over when the train lurches to begin its journey from the slums to the upper city. There are actual names for the two areas, but nobody uses them anymore.

The respirator makes a hissing sound as you remove it after stepping out of the train. The cool, clean air of the upper city fills your lungs. It’s satisfying in a way its sticky, filtered sister could never be. The faux fur of your cropped coat tickles a bit as you walk, blown by that strange breeze that never seems to stop in the upper city. The one that blows all the grime and smog downhill.

The club sits square in central downtown - the bottom level of a historical hotel. It’s an elegant building. Red with curled metal accents over the windows and doors. Modeled after the ancient art nouveau movement. It sparkles underneath the artificial LEDs of the city - all signs and glowing windows. You can always tell where the humans are, catching glimpses of that unmistakable glow only a UV light gives off.

You duck down the alley behind the hotel. Grimy and dark, the complete opposite of the front entrance. Your heels clack on the concrete loudly - echoing off the hard walls of the building surrounding you.

It’s easy enough to slip into the routine of your job. Going back and forth to the bartender, carrying various drinks and placating the egos of cowardly men and the vampires they lie to themselves about being equal to. You can see the hunger in their eyes when you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck to the light. When your wrists just pass their noses as you set down their glasses.

It’s hard work. Long hours and more days of the week than you would like, but it pays enough for you to afford your little apartment and save some for your future.

“Hey! New girl!” The owner barks at you as you gently set your tray back into the stack to be washed.

You whirl on your heel. Shit, did you fuck up? Ruin everything? Your mind runs through every interaction over the course of the night - every comment, every stilted moment. “Y-yes, sir?”

“Need you as a Companion.” He stands in front of you, the pinstripes of his suit warping over his massive crossed arms. The wrinkle in his nose makes his mustache twitch.

“C-companion!” You squeak. “I’m not-“

“We had a call out. Need you to take the private booth in the back.”

Your eyes are saucers - heart beating so hard you almost can’t hear his words. You don’t know what to make of this. His words are harsh and cut right though you, but the prospect they hold…

“You paying attention?” He grunts.

Your voice shakes. “Just… why me?”

“You match their preference.” Its blunt. Uncaring. Not that you would ever expect much sympathy from the owner of a place like this - feeding girls to vampires and their kin.

Generally, you’re not the type to be preferred - too big and soft for most. It’s what kept you as a server exclusively, you’re sure. Companion is such a major step up, too. You haven’t had any training. You never thought you’d get there - only a few girls make it from Server to Companion. To have it by happenstance…

With a deep breath you remind yourself that this is temporary. Just for tonight. You are acting as a replacement, nothing more. If you pull this off maybe you’ll get enough tips to finally replace the air filtration in your apartment. Maybe you can even get an overhead UV light. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely!

Another tray is shoved into your hands. Is this… actual gold? Ornate designs line the outer rim - all weaving in and out of each other inlaid with iridescent mother of pearl. It’s cold on your hands and so shiny you catch your reflection in it before the bartender sets a bottle of wine and four glasses on it. You’re fairly certain between the wine and the tray you are holding upwards of four thousand dollars a in your hands. It takes everything to keep your hands from trembling.

You slowly head for the back booth - just beyond the main floor of the bar. It’s far more quiet here. The music from the floor muffled by distance. There are only a few private booths and they are only ever occupied by the city’s elite. The top of the top. You pause at the heavy, velvet burgundy curtain separating you and your clients for tonight. They could be anyone.

You hope they aren’t the type to get rough.

Balancing the tray on one hand, you use the other the push the heavy curtain to the side - entire body alert and tense as your eyes land on the four men sitting around the rounded booth. Their eyes meet yours, and you freeze. A shiver runs down your spine.

They’re beautiful in that way only vampires can be. Untouchable. Marble-esque. Eyes clear and bright even in the low light of the booth - that sheen of night vision apparent. Lions staring down their prey and you, who walked into the den willingly.

“Good evening.” It takes everything to keep your voice steady. To slip back into that comfortable customer service headspace you’ve curated over the years. “I’ll be your Companion tonight.”

“What happened t’ Cherry?” The man on the outer right side of the booth asks. His arm is slung carelessly over the back of the booth, body slack and comfortable.

“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You say softly, carefully sliding the tray onto the table. “If I’m not to your standards-“

“Well, now, none of us said that.” A man with an imperial beard smiles. It softens his face - makes him look less like stone. “What’s your name, dove?”

“Fancy.” You murmur. It’s your chosen work name - based on a song your mother used to play from a century ago. One of your earliest memories is her lifting you into her arms and spinning around to the song. All the workers names are single words. Easy to remember. Easy to request for returning quests.

“Fittin’.” The man to your left grins, bright blue eyes sparkling. His fangs catch the light - your hands tremble for a brief moment.

“Do you know who we are?” The masked man beside him asks. His voice rumbles through your nerves, all the way into your bones. You can hardly look at him - the skull covering the top half of his face makes your gut churn.

Should you know them? Oh, fuck, you probably should. Vampires live forever - their names and legacies travel across centuries. Millenia. It’s going to give you away. You’re just a low class human from the slums. You don’t know Vampires from the uppers.

The illusion of luxury only goes so far.

“It’s not a trick question.” The man to your right smiles gently, tilting his head to the side.

“No, sir.”

“Well,” The one with the beard sits a little straighter. “I’m John Price and these are my… confidants. Cohorts. Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley.” He gestures to each as he goes.

John Price… John Price… Nothing comes to mind. Nothing about any of them, for that matter.

“Lovely to meet you.” You smile pleasantly, slipping back into the script. Swallowing roughly and steadying yourself, you reach for the bottle and slowly pouring a tester amount into the four glasses. “Tonight we have a vintage red from 2089.”

John hums, swirling the glass before taking a sip. His eyes glow in the low bar light. “You remember the 80’s, Simon?”

“Which one?” The makes you pause. How many 80’s could there be?

John laughs, whole and hearty. Little crows feet appear in the corners of his eyes. “Which d’you think?”

“I remember the blood.” The masked man mutters. He doesn’t look at John - dark eyes locked on you. You keep up the well trained smile. Neutral, comfortable.

“Och, ye would.” Johnny scoffs, taking his own glass after John gives you a nod to fill the four properly. “Cannae ever remember the good.”

“Well what’s your finest memory then Johnny?”

“There’s was this lass… think her name was Cassandra. Had the biggest tits and-“

“Enough of that. Theres a lady present.” John waves his hand. To your surprise, Johnny actually listens despite looking muffed about it. You can’t help but snort. Lady. As if.

How old are they, anyway? They look young - especially Johnny and Kyle. Definitely below thirty when they were turned. John obviously leads but that doesn’t necessarily mean he turned the rest of them. They could have just come together over the years. Vampire covens vary heavily as to why they came together. Sometimes friendship, sometimes relation, sometimes just convenience.

Simon is still staring you down, hooking a thumb under his mask to raise it just over the end of his nose. Scarred lips sip from his glass.

“Come sit, luv.” Kyle pats the booth beside him.

You snap out of your thoughts at the prompt - moving to sit in the empty spot beside Kyle. The next thing you know hands are on your hips, passing you over until you’re sat square in the middle as if you weigh nothing. You know vampires are strong - you’ve gotten thrown around by your fair share in the slums, whether a mugging or fucking - but it still startles you. They could crush you with barely a flick of the wrist.

Fingers brush over your shoulders, tracing the shape of them before lowering to rest between your exposed shoulder blades. They’re cold and leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell us about yourself, hm?” John prompts.

“Oh, not much to tell.” You shrug and smile. “I’m from the city. Started here about a year ago-“

“How have we never seen ye then?” Johnny interrupts, eyes locked on your chest. “A bonnie thing like ye…”

“Well…” You raise your hand to your mouth like you would when whispering a secret. “I’m not supposed to tell but I’m actually a server, normally.”

“Oh, really?” Kyle leans his chin on his palm. “In a dress like that?”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” You huff, letting the pliant facade slip just enough to make yourself seem real. Just a little less doll like before you return to the script.

“Absolutely nothin’.” Simon hums beside you, eyes near black under the shadow of his mask.

Your face heats. Client compliments never get to you and you’re not sure what about his feels so different. All of their attention is so intense. It dives under your skin and burrows deep in your marrow.

“So, seeing as you implied I should know who you are-“ You tilt your head and meeting John’s eye, “who are you?”

John chuckles, leaning close. “Oh, no one important. Contractors. Independently employed.”

“Ah, so, criminals.” You laugh.

“If you say so.”

“I can’t exactly judge.” You lean in as well, shoulder pressing against his broad chest. The material of his suit is soft and thick. High quality. “I mean, look where I am, hm?”

“Are ye a criminal, lassie?” Johnny grins at you, tilting his head. How he makes a mo-hawk cute is beyond you.

“Shh.” You press a finger to your lips.

It’s easy enough to look sultry, to play the part, to mindlessly flirt. Easy enough to fall into the simple back and forth. Scripted. Basic. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’re just clients at the end of the day, even if they have more money and power than your usual crowd.

You carefully refill each of their glasses. You can feel their eyes on you - boring through your very being. It takes more concentration than you’d like to keep your breath from hitching when John’s hand rests on your upper thigh. You lean forward, pushing each glass back to their respective owners.

Johnny takes your hand before you can retract it, placing gentle kisses from your palm to your wrist. He sighs shakily, teeth catching your skin ever so slightly.

“Johnny.” The masked man rumbles in warning.

“Not gonnae bite, LT… she just smells incredible.” Johnny murmurs against your wrist.

“Have you ever been bitten, dove?” John asks, eyes half lidded as he stares you down. That feeling comes back.

Prey. You’re just prey.

“N-no…” You shake your head, voice smaller than you’d like. You’re not supposed to. Clients aren’t allowed to bite the girls here - it’s not one of those clubs - but in reality you’re at your mercy. To book one of these rooms they surely have the money to pay whoever necessary to do whatever they might want with you.

“Donnae look so afraid.” Johnny chuckles.

“We’re not goin’ t’bite.” Kyle leans forward. “Just curious.”

“Oh…” You whisper. Johnny drops your wrist and you pray that they don’t notice how quickly you retract it.

“Alright boys, time for business.” John sighs. He suddenly grabs your chin, turning you to face him. It’s a light touch, not too rough but solid. His pupils dilate and yours with them. “You’ll forget everything we say from now until I snap my fingers.”

The next thing you know you’re blinking blearily, sitting in John’s lap with your legs across Kyle’s. The younger man’s hand rests on your leg, thumb gently stroking your ankle as you come back to sentience.

It’s like coming up from the undertow and getting your first gasp of air.

“There she is.” Johnny murmurs, smiling softly.

You were compelled - you know that much. It’s disorienting. You rub the corner of your eye, purposefully evening your breath. At least your clothes are all still in place. You don’t feel… touched. Not bitten either. A choked sigh escapes you against your will, hands trembling in your lap.

“You’re alright, dove.” John coos, cold breath puffing against your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. How much time has passed? When… what… “Can be hard t’come out of it, hm?”

“I’m okay...” You whisper.

“Have some water.” Kyle pushes a glass toward you. The concern on his face feels foreign.

A large, empty decanter of scotch sits in the center of the table accompanied by several empty glasses. That’s the closest hint you have to how long you’ve been here. You take the glass of water shakily and sip, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the rim.

John continues to coo and soothe down your hair. His other hand travels down to rest on your hip, holding you in place against him. It’s strange… this feeling. You’ve been compelled before briefly but it wasn’t like this. John has to be strong. Old. He’s been around a while to have that kind of power - for it to be this difficult for you to come out of the haze. It’s taking more concentration to keep from crying than you’d like.

Stranger, though, is the way they watch you. The way John works you back to reality. Most vampires would have been inappropriate while you were gone, wouldn’t bother with the borderline aftercare needed when coming out from under their spell. Most would have left you slumped in the booth - drained of blood and pleasure - laughing as they went.

You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter and gathering your wits. “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”

They share a look, one that you can’t quite interpret.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” John asks, voice low.

You look up at him with big eyes. Childlike, almost, staring up in wonder. It’s so strange how vampires aren’t quite white - they just lack the redness of life. The pink under the skin that signifies a beating heart and limited life span.

“I’m sure.”

John presses closer, breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Thank you for being so gracious f’us, tonight.

“Always…” There’s an honestly behind the word that startles you. A craving deep in your bones to prove yourself worthy of him and his men.

Strange.

“We best be on our way.” Simon rumbles, prompting Johnny to let him out of the booth.

John’s eyes flick between yours briefly before he moves you off of his lap with the gentle touch one might use when handling fine china. As much as you want to stay there, dazed and still coming down, you have work to do. So, you stand after them and begin slowly gathering the empty glasses on the tray. They feel heavier in your hand the normal.

A cold touch runs up your back and you freeze. Fingers trace the curve of your spine. You straighten, turning slowly only to meet those soft blue eyes again. John takes your hand, eyes alight with something you don’t understand. “I’ll tell the owner he’s wasting you as a servin’ girl. You’re made for more.”

Before you can even possibly decide how to respond, he’s gone. Disappeared through the curtain and into the forever night. Something crinkles in your hand. When you look down, slowly opening your fingers, the contents make your heart jump into your throat.

Cash. A massive roll of neatly banded cash.

How much is this? A thousand? More?

With frightened eyes and slippery hands you tuck the cash into the secret pocket of your coat. Having that much cash on your person is so out of your wheelhouse - out of the realm of possibility- you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t even get to say thank you.

Your mind whirls as you finish up your shift, eyes glazed over while slipping on your coat. The other girls look off put. A few whisper and stare.

What do they think you did?

Then again, you think as you brace yourself for the lurching and squealing of the metro, there isn’t any way to know what happened. Not unless one of the vampires tells you, and good luck prying any information out of one of them. Even if they tell you, they can just make you forget all over again.

How did you behave? Were you the same as always? Were you an entirely different person?

Some people forget themselves when under compulsion - every inhibition thrown to the wind carelessly. You need your inhibitions. They keep your job secure and yourself safe. You can’t afford carelessness.

The walk back home is tense. That small bulk in your pocket burns a hole though you as your mind runs with every possibility of what might have happened. What you might have done to earn such a massive tip. It can’t have been dignified, could it?

There’s no way they just like you. That’s not how vampires are.

It takes everything to motivate yourself to actually take off your clothing and jewelry before falling into bed. However long they had you, it drained you. Left you tired and shaky as you crawl under the thick bundle of quilts that make up for the lack of heating in your home.

Your eyes meet the wad of cash that barely fit in the inner pocket of your coat. It feels like a threat. Use me well or lose me forever! Make me count because you’ll never see me again!

For now, at least, you can bask in it.

[bitchlessdino]

boo-ty call 👻 (m)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do we have today, m’dear?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…need sleep.” 

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

“You know—”

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

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

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

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

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

“You tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, ghostie—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. “It’s… just an expression.”

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

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

“Do you like that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look happy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you like him?”

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

“Does he like you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…You talk too much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, Grim Peeper, let’s do this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Expected more from me, humie?”

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

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

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

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

You quietly nodded, reassuring him.

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

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

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

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

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

‘It’s fine. Everything will be fine.’

“I know,” you sighed.

“You know what?”

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

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

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

“Good—Great! Why do you ask?”

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

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

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

‘Wow, thank god you have me.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You’re impossible,’ you shot back.

‘But effective.’

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

“Humie–oh.”

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

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

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

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

“Out!” you snapped, glaring.

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

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

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

“I can't afford that right now!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Seungkwan, hey!”  

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

“Oh, uhhh…”  

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

“Oh, thank God! That sounds amazing.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grinned, “Exactly!”  

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

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

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

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

"Movies," he echoed, mimicking your tone.

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

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

"But?" you pressed, leaning in slightly.

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

"Halloween Town? The kids’ movie?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘It was so painful to watch.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...yes. God, yes.”

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

‘That’s it.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Look at all the fun you’re having.’

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

‘Feel him rubbing that pretty pussy of yours.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seungkwan, please…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Just like I wanted,” You teased. 

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

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

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

“Don’t apologize to me, Humie.”

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

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

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

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

“Not when it involves a literal ghost!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then, why don’t you get off of me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeonghan, please.”

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

“Jeonghan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled against his skin. “That good?”

“Y-yes,” you helplessly whispered.

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

“Yes…more please…”

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

“Insane,” He said in hushed whispers.

“Stop it,” you whined.

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

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

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

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

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

“You asked, and you shall receive.”

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

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

“Jeonghan!” 

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

“What the fuck happened to the condom?”

“Please, that’s my own cum.”

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

“And Seungkwan. What about Seungkwan?”

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

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

And from that moment sleep was easy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fangswbenefits]

Unexpected

Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.

Word count: 2.2k

As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.  

He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.

And today was one of those days.

You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.

Typical.

He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.

Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.

He expected fear or a screech.

But no.

She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.

Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.

“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.

You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”

He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.

He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”

Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”

He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.

As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.

Finally.

You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.

“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”

“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”

She chuckled alongside you.

He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”

Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.

“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”

Now that set him off.

“Actually, I have considered it.”

Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.

He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.

But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.

Especially with you being such the motherly type.

His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.

“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.

Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”

How he detested puns.

Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.

“You meant that?”

He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”

You nodded.

“I don't see why not.”

You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.

“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”

Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.

“We can.”

Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”

Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.

He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed. 

“It is possible.”

You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”

As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.

He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.

Just for him.

“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”

As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.

“Want what?”

The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.

He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.

“Do you want me to breed you?”

His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”

Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?

Gods above…

That only served to fuel his lust.

You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips. 

Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”

He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.

“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”

You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.

“And how could you even do such a thing?”

Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?

He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”

Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.

You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.

From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.

The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.

It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.

Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.

You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.

He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.

The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.

With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.

He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.

“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.

But Astarion had something else in mind.

“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”

A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.

But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.

His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.

You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.

“There's a first time for everything, darling.”

Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.

“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.

Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.

He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.

Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire. 

As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.

Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.

Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.

Gods… you were so ready to be bred.

He could feel your arousal.

He could taste it on his tongue.

His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.

Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.

With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.

His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.

He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.

Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.

With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”

His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.

“There is only one way to find out, darling.”

You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.

Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.

“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”

Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.

His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.

He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.

Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.

From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.

“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.

You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.

Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.

“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out.

Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.

He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.

His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.

He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.

Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.

“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.

As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.

You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.

He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.

Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.

As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do you think it was enough?”

He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”

Masterlist

[themultifanshipper]

This was supposed to be a silly little blurb about giving Seb a blowjob, I don’t know how it got this out of hand.

Warnings: all of them. All the warnings.

Jk but there is sooo much in this fic. A bit of underage (but over 16), blowjobs, oral, p in v sex, rawdogging, rough sex, possessive Seb, a tad of subspace?, threesomes (if you don't want spoilers on the special guests don't look in the tags), voyeurism, undernegotiated dom/sub dynamics all over the place, infidelity (his IRL wife is included), smidge of angst but it’s really not the point of the fic lmao, mention of drugs and alcohol, I don’t condone anything I’ve written here guys. Although the warnings make it sound worse than it is tbh.

July 2007

I suppose you could say it all started when you were 13 and Sebastian had just been transferred to Toro Rosso.

Obviously nothing happened between you two given that he himself was 20 years old at the time. Although your childish crush on him had started way before that.

No, what happened at 13 was an embarrassing moment that got the ball rolling between you and Seb.

That night he was over at your parents’ house for a celebratory meal, for you, it was your birthday, for Sebastian Vettel, it was the beginning of a long and illustrious career.

Your father and him were good friends, Seb helped a lot with your brother's career in karting and you’d always been around the handsome blonde man. At various karting events with your brother, a gala here and there, and even at a couple of f1 races he had driven for BMW. By this time your crush was well and truly established, and subtlety not being your thing, your family knew all about it. And teased you relentlessly. And apparently now invited your crush to your birthday dinner... great.

Seb and your father were in the kitchen having a drink and helping your mother with the food when you heard your fathers voice drifting through the house.

“Man, think of all the blowies you’re gonna get!”

After a sharp scolding from your mother, the two burst out laughing and that was that. But the damage had been done.

At 13 years old, you had no idea what that meant. So you asked, at dinner, in front of your family, and your crush, what a blowie was.

Yeah, that went down well (pun intended, and note the sarcasm).

Your (15 year old) brother choked on his mouthful and shrieked in laughter, spraying your mother, who then slapped your father who was laughing maniacally beside her. Seb just went incredibly red and grinned “You’ll find out when you’re older, sunshine”

Okay, maybe the nickname should also be explained, after all it is the result of a previous embarrassing moment of your childhood.

It was at a karting track before a race and you were hanging out with your brother, some of his friends, and Seb. Or more accurately, you were following Seb around like a lost puppy. At this point you were 9, your brother 11 and Seb 16.

Someone had heard a dirty joke from the older boys at the track that went something like this:

“What is big, makes no noise, yet wakes us up every morning?”

And with your very innocent, very smart 9 year old brain you replied “the sunshine” which was supposed to be the right answer, but boys will be boys.

16 year old Seb thought that answer was hilarious.

“That is so adorable” he was wheezing “from now on I am calling you sunshine”

You were so embarrassed at not understanding the joke that you ran back to your father and told him about it, and he told the boys off sternly.

So anyway, there you were, a few years later, at dinner with your parents reliving that in your head, and living through yet another mortifying moment in front of Seb, who looked at you sympathetically from across the table, and kept sending you winks all throughout the evening, to try and make you feel better.

That night you looked up “blowie” online (of course a few days later the browser history conversation happened with your mother) and you were never the same again. You couldn’t stop imagining Seb getting blowjobs from all the girls he was indeed going to get, and it gnawed at you. For years. Of course, you knew you were too young for him, but it didn’t stop the fantasies from getting rather... wild.

2010 

You were 16, and Sebastian was about to win his first championship, you were sure of it. You were all in Abu Dhabi to support him (and the others of course) and you found yourself wandering into his drivers’ room just as he was putting his fireproofs on. You had expected his girlfriend Hanna to attend, but luckily for you she was busy, and you were going to make the most of that fact. You ogled his body for a second before he noticed you staring and grinned at you as he put his top on.

“There’s my sunshine!” You jumped into his arms like you’d done so many times before. “I was wondering if I’d get to see you before the race”

‘Of course! I'd consider myself a bad friend if I didn’t come to wish you good luck”

He put you down and dramatically threw himself on the sofa.

“Yeah! I’m going to need it”

“Oh, come on Seb I’m sure you’ll do great” You sat down next to him and put your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “If you want... I could give you a good luck present” you slid your hand slowly up his thigh and his leg jolted slightly “If you know what I mean”.

He glanced at your hand before looking back into your eyes, you could tell his mind was racing, obviously going in the right direction. “No, I don’t know what you mean” He gulped as your hand went higher and you batted your eyelashes at him.

“You know, I’m not the innocent kid who didn’t know what a blowie was anymore, I’ve learned a lot since then”.

Seb’s pupils were wide, and you could feel his fireproofs tenting under your hand. “I could show you if you’d like”.

You squeezed his cock over the fabric, and he grabbed your hand “Fuck sunshine, I can’t let you do this, you’re sixteen for fuck’s sake”

“Don’t act like you don’t fuck girls on the daily, Seb” You jumped up off the sofa and into his lap, straddling him.

“Yes, but I’ve known you since you were a baby, and you’re still a minor, Fuck-” Your hand had slithered its way into his fireproofs and was squeezing around him like a vice.

“I’m past the age of consent, Seb, you know that. And I know you’ve thought about it. About me. You’re not as quiet as you think you are when you come round to our house, you know.” You trailed sloppy kisses down his neck and chest, over his fireproofs as your hands got rid of the bottom half.

“Shit, aaah-” He hissed, and his resolve crumbled under your touch. “Fuck”

“Please Seb, please let me suck your cock for good luck” You purred, and he let his hands grip onto your hair as you nosed up the length of his now exposed cock.

He was staring into your eyes, guilt written all over his face as he nibbled nervously on his lip. “Fuck, sunshine what are you doing to me”.

Instead of answering, you took half of him into your mouth and sucked. He cried out and bucked his hips involuntarily, making you choke slightly.

“Shit sorry!” His concern was adorable, but unnecessary.

“Don’t worry Sebby, I trained myself out of a gag reflex, just for you” and before he could say anything else you sank down on him to the base and the noise he let out was inhuman. His head fell back, and his eyes rolled into his skull.

Yeah, you’d definitely been practising. And you were unbelievable.

He did end up winning the race, and the championship. And you grinned at him when he looked down at you from the podium, shaking his head and laughing before almost getting drowned in champagne by Lewis and Jenson.

2011

The next year you showed up in his driver’ room at the Japanese Grand prix, per his request. You knew this was the race that would potentially secure him his second championship win so you strutted in, pushed him onto his little bed in the corner and kissed him senseless as your hands started undressing him immediately.

“Tell me, Seb-” You got his shirt open and trailed kisses down his chest. “Do you think you’re capable of winning the championship on your own this year?” Off went his trousers “Orrrr…” then went his underwear “Would you like a blowie, for good luck?” You grinned at him, mouth hovering inches away from his rapidly hardening cock.

He grinned back at you, slightly breathless. “I think-” he sat up and pulled you in for a quick kiss “you can never say no to a good blowie”. He lay back down, arms behind his head, and that was all you needed to get to work.

He did in fact win the race, and the championship.

You couldn’t make it to Abu Dhabi however, and he got a puncture on the first lap.

 Figures.

2012

You celebrated your 18th birthday with Sebastian, one on one. He took you out to dinner during the summer break. You had finally finished school and were moving on to other things. You had no idea what those things would be, but you were excited none the less. He’d managed to convince Hanna he was on a business trip to meet a sponsor, but you didn’t think for a second that she bought any of it.

Sebastian told you all about the intense race for the Championship, given you weren’t able to attend any of the races before the summer. He had apparently taken to relieving stress by fucking anything that moved, and that included some of the other drivers. You couldn’t help but imagine him being bent over his massage table, reduced to a begging mess by his teammate. Everything Seb told you about Mark got you riled up before dessert had even been served, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was his goal all along.

When you got back to his hotel, the real birthday celebration started. And it lasted all bloody night.

All the things Seb had thought about doing to you since the very first time you’d asked what a blowie was, he did to you that night. All the tension accumulated over the years finally boiled over, as he brought you over the edge so many times you lost count, with his mouth, his hands, his cock. He was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“Nobody can have you like this, can they?”

“No Seb just you- Fuck!” You panted as he pounded into you from behind, pressing you against the massive hotel windows, facing the city lights.

 It was almost romantic. Almost.

“You think anyone can see you from down there? All those people that don’t know how good you’re being for me.” The thought of being seen made you even wetter and you whined. He only chuckled.

“I’m sure if Mark were walking past, he would love to know what is happening up here. Would you like that? Would you like Webber to watch you come undone on my cock?”

You didn’t even need to answer, you cried out in pure extasy as you came for the umpteenth time that night and then slumped against the cool glass. The only thing holding you up being Seb’s arm around your waist and his other one propping your leg up as he trapped you against the window, grinding into you as he came inside you with a groan.

“Well sunshine, I guess that’s a ‘yes’ then, hmm?” He whispered in your ear before pecking you on the cheek. He lifted you up, carried you to the bed and went to get a cloth to clean you up with.

You giggled when he came back “You know Seb, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re so obsessed with Mark that you want to show me off to him. Is it because you want him to approve of me? Or be jealous? Or do you just want to flaunt your amazing skills in bed that I’m suuure are better than his?” You were obviously just trying to rile him up.

He laughed dryly as he wiped you down but didn’t reply. Perhaps you’d struck a nerve. He didn’t mention Mark for a long time after that.

You couldn’t make the race in COTA, so it was critical for you to be at Interlagos with Seb. You got a plane ticket several days before and gave him a good luck blowjob every single night, for good measure.

He won, of course.

2013

2013 got real weird, real quick.

For starters, you were 19 with no job and no idea what you were going to do with your life, but you spent all your time around older millionaire formula 1 drivers. You were basically an honorary member of the team by now and had a free paddock pass for every race you could attend.

Then, there was the issue of Seb living with his girlfriend, so you couldn’t stay at his place anymore, and in the rare instances where you and Hanna saw each other, the other drivers became exceptionally awkward around the both of you.

The last thing was, Mark didn’t win a single race all season, and Seb was a huge dick about it. He strutted around Mark in the paddock like a peacock. And he took you to every other GP to fuck you in his drivers’ room when he knew Mark could hear you from next door, just to drive him crazy.

It all came to a head in India. The race that secured Seb his fourth consecutive championship.

He was fucking you in his drivers’ room (more like railing the absolute shit out of you) on the long sofa that lined the wall. Face down, ass up, you were being loud, no longer caring about Mark hearing you.

Then, his phone started buzzing, Mark’s name flashed across the screen, along with an unflattering photo.

Seb answered it, put him on speaker and set the phone down next to your head.

“Would you two keep it down, the whole bloody garage can hear you!” Mark hissed.

“Yeah?” Seb answered “Hear that, sunshine? Everyone can hear how good I’m fucking you” His hips kept slapping against yours obscenely.

You moaned and Mark scoffed “Sounds like she’s faking Sebby, I guess those championships must be compensating for something...”

“Why don’t you come in here and say that to my face then Webber” Seb spat before hanging up.

You gasped as he grabbed your hair and pounded into you harder. “Seb! What-”

“You like having an audience, admit it.” He growled “You’d like nothing more than if Webber stormed in here and-”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence before Mark did just that. He was standing at the door, flushed, as if he’d sprinted over.

You turned your head to look at him but before you could say anything, Seb slowed down to a hard grind inside you, making your eyes roll back and you let out a shaky moan.

Mark’s eyes were scanning you and Seb, checking you both out. And obviously enjoying the view if the tent that was forming in his fireproofs was any indication.

From his angle he could see where Seb’s cock was buried inside you, where you were literally dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa and he let out a gasp. “Fuck Seb, she’s so wet”

“I guess she’s not faking then” Seb said smugly, picking up the pace again.

A lack of response from Mark prompted Seb to sigh and beckon him over.

“Don’t just stand there, come sit down, this will take a while”.

“What?” Utterly fucked out, you twisted your upper body to look at him, the confusion on your face matching Mark’s.

Seb smirked at you. “We’re going to play a little game, okay sunshine? I’m going to make you feel good, and Mark is going to watch. But you cannot come until he does, understand?”

Your jaw dropped, and he gave a hard thrust. “Understand, baby?” He repeated and you nodded quickly.

He turned to Mark “Well? You don’t want to be the reason she can't come, do you? Get to work.”

“Shit” Mark looked half murderous, half ridiculously turned on as he slowly lowered his suit and freed himself, starting to work his dry hand up and down his cock slowly and Seb chuckled “Put you hand out”.

Mark did as he was told, confused, and he almost combusted on the spot as you spat on his hand.

“Wow, she’s such a good girl, isn’t she?”

Seb groaned, as if Mark was talking to him. The older man’s presence was finally getting to him.

Mark’s hand inched towards your face, but Seb slapped it away. “No touching, she is mine”.

You tightened around him, about to come when he abruptly pulled out. You whined and squirmed as your orgasm faded, but he just shushed you and turned you over onto your back roughly, almost knocking the wind out of you. “Shhh baby, remember the rules?” He was rubbing your hips soothingly as he spoke “Mark has to come first, I’m not the one you should be begging”.

You turned to the other man.

“Please Mark, please, please come. I need to come so bad, Mark, please, fuck I need it...”  You were almost babbling at this point, and Mark melted.

Sebastian swiftly slid back into you as Mark’s hand picked up the pace on his own cock, glancing at your writhing body and at Seb. You tightened around him as you felt yourself get closer to the edge again. The two men were grunting and looking straight at each other as they moved, almost as if they were trying to get each other off. Their weird power play was tipping back and forth, and you were caught in the middle. Not that you were complaining.

Mark came all over himself and you felt Seb throbbing inside you as he started rubbing your clit to get you off faster, the sight of his teammate was affecting his self-control, and he was getting closer by the second. You came together, and he slumped over you, his legs and arms giving out.

Mark was panting and you looked at each other, having a silent conversation while Seb was recovering. He got up to go and get cleaned up in the small adjacent bathroom.

While he was gone, you stroked up and down Seb’s back and whispered in his ear “You okay, Seb?”

He sniffled into your neck before replying “Yes, I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”  He lifted his head to kiss you before flashing you his signature grin. “I’m a four-time formula 1 world champion!”

The two of you giggled and he dropped his head back down and sighed contentedly, planting lazy kisses on your shoulder.

Mark came out of the bathroom and laughed silently at Sebastian behind his back. You scowled and the two of you argued with your eyes again. ‘Congratulate him you prick!’ Your eyes said.  He rolled his before walking up to your entangled bodies and put a hand on Seb’s shoulder, making the younger man shiver. “Congrats on the title, mate. But there’s a few races left, I could still beat you.”

Seb snorted “Sure, if you say so. Now you can fuck off”.

You smirked at Mark, and he slinked out of the room without another word.

Well needless to say he did not beat Sebastian. And he promptly retired.

 2014

It was a shit year for Redbull, Seb DNF’d in Australia, Monaco, and Austria. He didn’t win a single race, but his new teammate Daniel did, and that was a sore subject. You lost count of the amount of pity blowjobs you gave him that year. He came to visit you often to lift his spirits, but you could always tell the season wasn’t going great, and it was taking a toll on him.

The one good thing to come out of that season was that you travelled around with him a lot, Hanna not being particularly interested in attending races. He was certainly rich enough to pay for your flights and hotels (not that you needed separate rooms most of the time).

You were the first person to know about his transfer to Ferrari. And you were both very excited about it. New team, new start, hopefully new championship wins.

Unbeknownst to you however, Seb had added an extra condition when he negotiated his new contract...

2015

During winter break, just before Christmas, Seb came to see you in at your parents’ house. That’s how you found out that he had gotten you a job at Ferrari, as part of his contract.

You were elated. It meant you would be around each other a lot more, and you could start pulling your own weight, feeling a little guilty that Seb had sort of been your sugar daddy for the past few years, not that he minded of course. And it also meant no more sneaking around and avoiding cameras at races to not alert Hanna to your presence at Seb’s side most of the time, not that it was really a secret anymore, you two weren’t discreet around the other drivers, and the drivers were all fucking each other as well anyway so no one cared.

As tradition dictated, you gave Seb an obligatory blowie to celebrate his Ferrari contract and your new job. And then, your parents being out of town, you had wild passionate nasty sex on every surface, as you wouldn’t be seeing each other for a few months, until the season started.

Needless to say, there would be no Championship win celebration blow job in Abu Dhabi, that year.

2017

It was your 3rd year working on the media team at Ferrari. It was a blast, you were severely overpaid, and you got to spend most of your time with the man you were having intimate relations with. Who could ask for more?

In Silverstone, Seb made a bet with Kimi. They were high (not on adrenaline, just high) and decided to wager on who would finish on top in the race. Kimi got a podium while Seb only got p7, but Kimi not being a man with a huge imagination, he had no idea what favour he wanted. So, it dragged on for months, until one day you were filming a promo video in Singapore with them, and his mind suddenly came up with the answer.

“Her” He pointed at you from across the room. Seb feigned innocence, pretending not to know what Kimi was inferring.

“What about her?” he asked tentatively.

Kimi smirked devilishly. “I want her. For the bet, you know. I want to watch you. To see how disappointing you are in bed”

He was only teasing, but he knew exactly how to get under Seb’s skin. So he agreed, and he asked you, and you agreed. Great. Kimi Räikkönen was going to watch you have sex, no biggie. After all, you’d done it before with Mark, this would be fine.

After a frustrating double DNF, you all went out to karaoke. You didn’t think Kimi was the type, but he showed up to the bar already three sheets to the wind, so you figured he wasn’t really there for the singing anyway.

Kimi was giving you sultry looks all night, which sent shivers down your spine. You’d never considered the man to be the epitome of hotness, but you couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to spend a night with Kimi. Was he passionate? Or was he just as ice cold as always?

You would soon find out as the three of you piled into a taxi back to the hotel, both Seb and Kimi’s wandering hands distracting you from trying to give the driver the address.

On the way, you’d ended up with Seb’s mouth on you neck and Kimi’s hand up your skirt, gently teasing you over the pathetic peace of fabric you called underwear.

By the time you were up into someone’s room, who’s room it was was impossible to say, your senses were engulfed by the two men. Kimi was behind you, trailing his mouth over your neck and shoulders and holding you up, while Seb was on his knees between your legs, one of them hooked over his shoulder, tongue eagerly working itself over your needy pussy as his fingers worked over that special spot deep inside you.

You came like that, then Seb stood back up and asked, “How was that, sunshine?”

You scoffed in disbelief at the question “It was amazing as always, baby. Are you going to fuck me now?”

He raised his eyebrows at Kimi, like ‘disappointing huh? I think not’ then pointed to the chair in the corner to signal to Kimi to sit in it, and led you over to the bed and put you on all fours.

He was halfway through railing you into next week, one hand holding your arms behind your back and the other around your neck, when Kimi piped up from the cuck chair.

“Can I come on her tits?”

Seb paused mid thrust and you whined “What do you think, sunshine? You want him to come all over your pretty tits, baby?”

“Yes, Seb, anything just keep going please!” You begged, but he didn’t move.

“Ah, ah, sunshine, be a good girl and tell Kimi what you want him to do to you”.

You huffed and looked at Kimi, who was observing you with hooded eyes and his mouth slightly open as he pumped his cock leisurely, waiting for an answer.

“Yes Kimi, please come all over my tits, I’ll be a good girl for you”.

The two men groaned in unison, and Seb picked up the pace again. He wasn’t going to last long, and neither were you, so he flipped you over onto your back and slid back into you quickly, beckoning Kimi over. He circled your clit expertly and you both came together fairly quicly, while Kimi watched and pumped his cock furiously, not far off as well.

“Go on then Kimi, give it to me” you gasped, sticking your tongue out for him, and that was it for the Finnish man.

He came in spurts over your chest, face, and mouth as he let out a shaky groan, finishing himself off before finding his pants and leaving with a simple “You two looked good” and winked at you. Truly a man of many words.

You and Seb laughed together, the adrenaline coming down as you both cleaned up and snuggled up under the covers.

“Weirdly, that wasn’t horrible” You giggled, and Seb acquiesced.

“You know, I think I like sharing you.” Seb kissed your temple, and you hummed, sleep almost taking you before he added “How do you feel about David Coulthard?”

You gasped and slapped his shoulder lightly “Oh my god he’s ancient!” and Seb scoffed, offended but let it go, sleep overtaking you both.

But he didn’t forget.

2019

All Sebastian could talk about for months was the eager twink Ferrari had dumped in his lap. So of course you had to have a taste. Or rather...

“My goodness Charles, you have got to taste her”.

Charles looked at you for permission before diving in. Even though he was younger than you, he obviously had experience as he brought you to the edge in no time. He got you wet and shaking before Seb had even finished taking his clothes off. You gasped as the waves of pleasure washed over you and Charles continued his assault on your weeping pussy. Seb only yanked him up by the hair after your second orgasm, and he looked absolutely wrecked. Face covered in your wetness, lips swollen, and eyes completely glazed over. Sebastian leaned in close to speak softly in his ear, making the younger man shiver.

“You want to fuck her Charlie? You want to fill her up properly while I fuck her pretty little mouth?” He said, while maintaining eye contact with you. Charles nodded a bit too enthusiastically and you both laughed at him.

Lucky for you, Charles’ cock was thick, and he stretched you out wonderfully while Sebastian fucked gently into your mouth. You were on your hands and knees, shaking through your 3rd orgasm when Charles finally came inside you, filling you to the brim.

While he cleaned himself up in the hotel bathroom, Seb turned you over onto your back and slipped inside you with ease. He started a maddeningly slow rhythm as he wrapped his arms around you possessively, and you tried to cling onto him, but your arms were useless at this point.

When Charles came back out, Seb didn’t even look at him as he told him he could go, so he didn’t push his luck and scarpered.

“Only I can have you like this” you preened under his touch, his hands gliding over your body, pinching your skin, and then soothing it as you went completely mad underneath him.

“Please Seb” You babbled mindlessly “I’ll be good, please, please just- “. Your eyes closed of their own volition and your head rolled to the side, losing all motor skills as he continued hitting that spot deep inside you. He grabbed your jaw and made you look back at him “You’re mine, aren’t you? Only I can make you beg like this, right sunshine?”

You wailed as you came around him, your final orgasm of the night taking its toll on you, rendering you completely boneless. And you didn’t move at all while he slipped out and got up to get you cleaned up. And you barely registered the bed shifting as settled under the covers with you, holding you gently, like you were the most precious thing in his world.

That year, Seb got married to his childhood sweetheart.

2022

The next time you saw him outside of the paddock was at his retirement party. The whole grid was there, plus his family, his friends, your family, and a bunch of other people. And his wife.

It was a proper retirement bash, and most people were at least tipsy within an hour of their arrival, Seb insisting on everyone getting shit faced to celebrate.

You snuck up to his bedroom and sat on the bed. You sighed longingly, it was surely the last time you would get to do this.

Seb came up a few minutes after you, after making sure someone was occupying Hanna.

He opened you up on his fingers, mouth mapping out your body, as if trying to imprint the feeling of it on his tongue. Once he slid inside you, it took you both an embarrassingly short amount of time to reach your peaks, but you did so together, your foreheads pressed together, breathing in each other’s air, hands scrambling for purchase on each other’s bodies. Then staying wrapped in each other’s arms for far longer than was necessary.

It was bittersweet. The end of an era.

Once you were both decent, you went back down and ensured that only good memories would be had of this party, lighting up the dance floor, lighting up the bar (you made flaming cocktails, which someone *cough*Charles*cough* spilled on the bar), all the while laughing, and crying a bit, with some of Seb’s soon to be ex-fellow drivers.

Epilogue:

It was Suzuka 2023, and you’d been waiting for this moment for months.

Seb’s bee house project was great for the bees and all, but it was even better for you.

The evening of his arrival at the paddock, you were buzzing (pun intended) with excitement.

When you spotted him, you shrieked, scaring a couple of engineers nearby, and ran towards him. It was a bit unprofessional given that you were still very much an FIA employee, but you couldn’t help it, you jumped into his waiting arms, like you’d done so many times before, and squeezed the life out of him.

“Sunshine!” Seb smiled as he lowered you back down.

“Old man!” You said and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m not that old”

“You’re retired, and I have work to do!” you said, as you started walking away.

“Doesn’t mean I’m old, means I had a successful career!” he shouted at your retreating figure.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Grandpa!”

Cut to a few hours later in his hotel room.

“Are you sure it’s okay for old people to get blowies?” You mocked as you got down on your knees between Sebastian’s legs “Like, you’re not going to have a heart attack are you?”

“I think.” He gripped your hair, bringing your mouth to his cock.

“You can never say no to a good blowie”.

The end.

[divinesolas]

Ignored

Summary: Based on two requests; You had been best friends with Jacaerys since you were kids. But when he gets a girlfriend and joins the football team in college your whole life gets turned upside down and he's suddenly ditched you. A year after you are confronted by him and emotions spill to the surface.

w.c: 2.7k

c.w: Porn with plot, sub!jace, hand job, overstimulation, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP), car sex, im not good at angry sex or mean stuff guys so sorry,

masterlist

One year. one fucking year since you’ve last spoken to him. You never imagined the two of you would end up like this.

He gets on the college football team and gets some hot girlfriend and suddenly he’s too good for you. You doubt he’s even noticed. It was slow to start, he started being busy during your weekly hang outs, then it would slip his mind to text you back, then he just suddenly stopped texting you. You had been replaced, you would always spend the holidays with his family but this past year you had seen Lucerys post on his insta holiday pictures and she was there instead. Everyone else in his family had reached out to you at some point. usually something along the lines of a happy holidays and that they hoped to see you soon, that they missed you. They even wished you happy birthday. He didn’t.

You had gotten to the point you stopped answering his family's texts, it made you feel sick when Lucerys asked if you would come to his birthday party and you didn’t have the heart to reply to him. You stopped checking their socials, even going as far as to mute them but you didn’t have the heart to unfollow them. then it would get too real, that the people you’ve considered family since you were basically a baby were no longer around.

You wish you didn’t miss him. You wish when started at your aunts gravestone he was not the face that appeared in your mind when you wished you had someone to comfort you. She had died six months ago, you hadn’t even bothered to text him about it. He met her a couple times, but its not like he would care now.

You do not cry for her anymore. Having come far enough in your grief, but you feel yourself come to a halt when you are walking through the graveyard and are stopped by a familiar family.

“Y/n?” You feel a knot grow in your throat. Why were they here? you could see lucerys was holding some flowers. “Hello.” What else are you supposed to say? You are frozen in place as lucerys walks over and throws his arms around you. “I missed you.” You try not to let your tears spill down your face as Lucerys pulls back and looks at you alarmed, “Are you okay?”

You laugh and cover your face with your hands, unable to even describe what you’re feeling. “You’re so tall.” Your voice cracks as you speak and he slaps you on the shoulder. “’Course i am, had to get taller than mr prince charming over there.”

You don’t want to look at him. You wish he was not even there. But you cannot help yourself the way your eyes drift to where Lucerys is referring to and you wish you hadn’t. He is as beautiful as he was the last day you saw him, he looks like he just came out of a romcom, a long trench coat covering him and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. You have no clue what he’s thinking, his face giving nothing away, cant take your eyes off him. The way his eyes have a gloss over them as he takes a couple steps towards you.

You swiftly turn away from his and notice rhaenyra standing at your side and she reaches out a grips your forearm. “It is so wonderful to see you dear.” You nod and smile at her, “It is always a pleasure Ms. Targaryen.” she hits your arm, “You stay away for a couple months and suddenly I’m Ms. Targaryen, call me rhaenyra dear you know better.” You want to correct her, tell her its been over a year. yet you don't, only nodding and apologizing to her.

“What are you doing here?” Its the first words he’s said to you in god knows how long. You swear your knees almost crumple at the sound of his voice. You want to punch him, spit in his face, you wish you hated him. “My aunt died.” You spit at the ground, you voice coming out angrier than you indented it to.

The people around you immediately flood around to give their condolences. You thank them, Lucerys especially kept you in a deep hug and mentioned how they came today to see rhaenyra's father but they'll make sure to stop by your aunt’s grave.

He says nothing. nothing at all. You hate him. You hate him so much. But you cant say no when they ask if you’ll join them to see viserys and your aunt. you cant even say no when they offer you to join them for dinner.

you two say nothing to each other, not until you say you’ll drive in your car on the way there and turn to walk towards it, still having the map to their house memorized until you are stopped, a hand gripping on your forearm.

“Can i ride with you?” You don't turn around to look at him. Continuing to stare straight ahead, your heart and head churning. You want to tell him no, that you don't wish to ever even see him again. “Please.”

“Fine.”

But you're a pussy. the biggest punk in the whole world as you watch him slide into the passenger seat as you close the drivers door. A silence fills the space between you two, you don't want to speak, a part of you hopes it will stay that way.

“What happened with us?” You harshly break at the red light and whip your head towards him. Rage boiling at your skin as you hiss at him, “What happened? What do you mean what happened? You're the one who ditched me!”

“What the fuck are you taking about?” “Oh so you’re just gonna act like you didn't fucking stop talking to me after you a girlfriend? What is her name? i don't even fucking know because you never introduced us.” A loud honk behind you forced you to turn your head away from him and back on the road, you swear your knuckles turned white from the pressure you were squeezing it.

“i-” “No. Because you know what Jace. Fuck you. Fuck you and your stupid face and your stupid girlfriend and your stupid friends because you fucking left me. You have no reason to sit around and ask me what the fuck happened between us because it was all because of you. i put in the effort to reach out i even sent you a fucking gift for your birthday because you couldn't spare the time to hang with me and you don't even text me a happy fucking birthday?!? Fuck you man.”

Your hands slam down on the wheel in frustration as you clench your jaw, the fucking nerve of this guy. You don’t even spare him another glance and he doesn't dare to say anything else for awhile. the drive is long, they were buried far out from your homes so the drive was over an hour.

it takes twenty minutes before he says anything. “I’m sorry.” It comes out strained, if you looked at him he would probably be crying but you do not dare look at him. “I wish i could explain to you why i did it, why i acted like that. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry i just think i liked the attention, i liked having people fawn over me. And her, fuck i don't know, i liked her sure, but she fucking cheated on me with one of the guys on the team, told me she only got with me to get closer to him. Its not an excuse, i should have never put what we had down the drain for someone that never really mattered because you, you matter to me more than anyone else. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, ill say it forever because i don't deserve your forgiveness.”

You pull over into a road side parking lot because you couldn't see the road anymore. Your eyes filled with tears as your shoulders shook with silent sobs, “I am sorry i made you feel this way, that you couldn't even come to me when she died, i liked it, i remember she gave me the toy car display i still have in my room fuck i can't even imagine how you must feel. I miss you. I miss you so much.”

You put your head against the wheel and allow yourself to sob. This is all you’ve wanted to hear for so long that now you have no clue how to feel. You want to tell him to fuck off. That he has no reason to be begging for your forgiveness now.

“Jacaerys,” You swear you hear it wrong, that you must be confused. He whimpers. “No please,” “Its dragged out in a way that has your stomach churning and you shift in your seat. “Don’t call me Jacaerys, Jace please.”

You must be strong. You cannot give into to his sad puppy eyes and cries. Yet you look over to him and feel your resolve crumble. He has tears streaming down his face. He’s looking at you. Has he been looking at you this whole time? “You left me Jace.” He lets out a trembled breath as he dares with shaky hands to grab yours. “I'm sorry. I will beg you to forgive me till the end of time because i will never deserve it. I need you.”

Your heart pounds against your chest as the two of you stare at one another. You feel your hands shake in his grip as the two of you unknowingly move closer to each other.

“I realized after i found out what she had done i was more upset about the fact you were not there more than anything. She had begged me to take her back but the only thing i could think about was you. I was so stupid and so blind i will never forgive myself. You are everything to me.”

“Jace,” He cups your cheeks and lets out a trembled breath, “I was a fool to let you go. I will never make that mistake again,” You cannot believe what is happening, he does not truly mean what you think he’s saying does he? “I had months to think it over. I am so madly in love with you. If you do not feel the same i will act like this never happened and we can just go back to being friends or even if you cannot stomach being around me we can just never talk but-”

He lets out a surprised moan as you shove your lips against his and eagerly pressed his lips against yours. He a lot more vocal than you had expected him to be, eagerly humming against your lips as his hands have moved to your neck.

He lets out a shocked gasp when you push him back into his seat and looks at you with wide eyes as you climb over his lap, pulling the level to have him lay over his back and simply stare at him as you hover above him. He whimpers as you grab the front of his shirt and pull him towards your face, “This is for me. Not you. Right?” He eagerly nods, more than willing to take anything you’ll give him.

He whines as you unbutton his black dress pants and waste no time shoving your hand past his boxers and gripping onto his dick. His head is thrown backwards as you rub your thumb against his tip, ignoring his mumbles until enough precum has dripped down onto your hand before you begin vigorously pumping him up and down.

You do not stop even as he’s asking you to slow down. Well you do, but it is always right before he’s about to come. You do this again. and again. and again. He feels like he’s about to burst, the stimulation is too much for him to bare.

“Please.” You tilt your head at him as he grips the front of your button down shirt. “What do you want?” Your words are spoken like he a stranger approaching you on the street, he whimpers and shoves his head into your chest, his tears threatening to spill out. “Please,”

“awe are you so fucked out you have no clue what you’re talking about huh?” He’s babbling nonsense as you feel his tears pool into your shirt. You fully remove your hands off him for the fourth time and he thinks he might crack. “Please no I’m sorry I’m sorry please please just let me,,” His words trail off as he watches you fully release him from his pants and boxers, his breath shaky as he watches you pool up your shirt and move to hover above him.

“Please please.” “Shut the fuck up.” He whimpers as his tip presses against your folds but you don’t him in enter yet, simply allowing his tip to be dragged up and down your slit. He throws his head back as the tears continue to flow down his face, he can’t take this, his hips rise up to try and thrust into you but you hold him down and spit at him. “You don’t know how to behave slut.”

He lets out a surprised gurgle of sounds when you suddenly slam all the way down onto him and lightly slap him across the face. “Are you happy now slut? You happy your little loser friend is fucking you stupid?”

He can barely speak as you begin to bounce up and down on him. He’s dreamed of this for much longer than he’d like to admit but this is much better than anything he could have imagined. The way your lightly let out sounds of delight are like music to his ears. He wishes he could say something but over the heat that flows over his body and the way he feels your hands slip under his shirt and begin to rub up and down his chest he can’t find the words.

He keeps his hands at his side, not knowing if he is allowed to touch you not wishing to upset you more than he already has. You notice the way his hands twitch and slightly raise as if he wants to reach out to you. You slow down for a moment to grab his hands and place them on your chest, a wordless exchange between the two of you as he stares at you in wonder. So much love fills his gaze you almost flush with embarrassment. You begin to pick up your pace once again as he fondles you over your clothes.

The pit grows larger in his stomach much faster than he would like but due to the overstimulation and the overflowing of emotions he’s on the edge. “I’m so close.”

“Hold it.” He whines and watches as one of your hands slip under your skirt, “You think you should be allowed to cum before me?” He shakes his head, of course not, he doesn’t deserve too.

He swears he almost cums from your blissed out face alone, but he is surprised he manages to contain himself until he feels you throb and your essence drips around him. You slowly lift off him and pump him until his cum drips down your hands.

The car windows are foggy, you have no clue how long you’ve been out here but the sun as begun to set as you allow yourself to fall against his chest, feeling the way his heart beats erratically as his arms come to wrap around you.

“I don’t forgive you,” He feels his heart drop as he gulps, bracing himself for you to lift off him and drop him off at his house, never to speak to him again. “But i think i can one day, you just have to take me out on a couple dates first.”

He grins.

Perm Jacaerys taglist

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife @jacesvelaryons

[tobiasdrake]

Fun Fact: Even in space, ACAB.

Let's talk about Jaco: The Galactic Patrolman, a somewhat more obscure manga compared to Dragon Ball that Akira Toriyama wrote in its setting.

For the most part, this is a short and fairly simple story. It's primarily a character drama, with the developing relationship between Jaco and the scientist Omori as its central focus.

The manga is surprisingly vague about its connections to Dragon Ball for nearly all of its length, until its final chapter. Jaco is here on Earth to thwart some vague threat sent to the planet from a world of hostile aliens. It's only at the end of the manga that we learn he's talking about Goku.

Galactic Patrol detected an Attack Ball leaving Planet Vegeta and making its way to Earth, so they sent Jaco to... assess the situation and then make a decision about whether or not to do anything.

In his defense, the Saiyans are the most powerful race in the universe. I can understand why he doesn't want to fuck with a full-grown Saiyan warrior. Nobody wants to fuck with a full-grown Saiyan warrior. The most that the finest police force in the universe can do against Saiyans is to try and nip them in the bud when they're babies.

It's interesting that Galactic Patrol doesn't have Scouter technology. I wonder if that proprietary? Frieza might have a patent.

But at the same time, I don't want to be too sympathetic to Jaco because. Well. He sucks.

Galactic Patrol sucks. That's kind of the bit. Jaco is a self-absorbed little shit, utterly devoid of empathy or compassion for the people he polices. He's stranded on Earth right now because he wasn't watching the road while driving.

Jaco's a prick, but what little we learn about Galactic Patrol as a whole doesn't make them sound much better.

This one time Jaco accidentally pressed the Extinction Bomb when he wasn't supposed to and wiped out a planet. Hoo boy, was his boss mad! Gave him a real talking to before giving him another Extinction Bomb and putting him back on patrol.

Universe isn't going to police itself, y'know. Someone's gotta be out there very occasionally trying to stop those real estate genocides.

For his part, Jaco's in it for the aesthetic. He likes the image of being a cop, and he spends his time practicing looking cool for when he presumably dispenses justice upon the criminal element.

But his interactions with the common people are filled with condescension and menace.

Like I said, this is the bit. Jaco is a self-important thug with a badge, with the initial conflict stemming as much from trying to keep him from doing something awful to the community under his jurisdiction as from trying to solve his problem.

Ostensibly here to protect Earth from the impending arrival of a Saiyan threat, he is as much a threat to this community as the invader he's here to assess. Without Omori there to guide him, he'd be killing people left and right.

He fits in pretty well with the cast of Dragon Ball, many of whom at least begin their tenure with a degree of amorality to them. Omori himself is a bitter misanthrope ironically thrust into the position of having to convince Jaco not to kill people.

And then there's the manga's biggest Dragon Ball connection: The introduction of Tights.

Any reader who's been picking up on the Dragon Ball-ness of this universe will know immediately where Tights came from. Her name pun gives the game away. Just like how the final chapter clarifies Jaco's target as the young Goku, we get to see the familiar faces of Tights's family as well.

Bulma basically solves the entire plot singlehandedly.

Even as a little kid, the universe's greatest heretic remains unparalleled in the field of game-breaking super-intelligence. Bulma OP do not nerf.

Again, this speaks to how little of the manga is actually about the plot. If this were a story-driven manga, having a character from another manga show up in the final issue and solve the plot in the span of two pages would be pretty disappointing. But since the plot is just an excuse to make these characters interact with one another, it doesn't really matter.

We aren't here for the story; We're here for the relationship between Jaco, Omori, and Tights. With that in mind, Baby Bulma waddling up and going "I fixed the spaceship; Are you stupid or something?" is hysterical.

For her part, Tights lives up to her family legacy of being super-brilliant.

She graduated from college at 16. She's a genius like the rest of the family. What she's not is interested in science and technology. Possibly as a justification for why we've never heard of her before, Tights goes against the mold for her family.

She honestly seems like something of a free spirit. She lives in East City when we meet her, famously the city that Nappa wiped off the map, while Capsule Corp and Bulma's family are out in West City. Rather than a scientist, she works as a body double for a famous pop idol.

As a publicity stunt, they're going to launch an idol into space. Tights's job is to impersonate the idol so she can die in the inevitable disaster instead. She is bizarrely chill with being paid a huge sum of money to get stupidly killed. Much like Bulma, Tights has a terrible sense of self-preservation and is willing to take on incredible risk for the sake of achieving a personal goal.

Tights is the best character in the manga. An aspiring sci-fi novelist who agreed to probably die in space for the sake of the experience. This family gives zero fucks.

And then there's Omori himself.

Despite its title, Omori is basically the main character of this manga. He's the one whose life situation is most heavily scrutinized. This is his status quo that Jaco and Tights enter. Similarly, Omori is the character who undergoes personal transformation as his experiences with Jaco and Tights help him find hope in connections with other people again.

The three characters click really well together. So well, in fact, that Dragon Ball would end up recycling the setup of Super Alien/Crotchety Old Man/Spunky Young Woman for one of the best dynamics they ever wrote.

This is not a copy/paste; Cheelai, Leemo, and Broly are all distinctly separate characters. but you can still feel the barebones aesthetic of Tights, Omori, and Jaco in their dynamic.

So. Yeah. Overall, for what it is, it's a cute little short story about a group of characters just living lives in the world of Dragon Ball. It's the kind of thing that the franchise needs more of, and still does to this day: An opportunity to flesh out the universe a little but also just to let us live in it through the eyes of someone else.

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 15

morning sex - bokuto koutaro

word count: 1064

kinktober masterlist

Volleyball season was tough on Bokuto.

The practices began early morning and ended late at night during off days. And he usually had to stay behind after practice to get his serves and receives better polished. On game days, the routine became even more dizzying, with pre-game practice and warms ups, the game itself, after-game conferences and sometimes going out for drinks with his boys later. Bokuto loved the hustle and bustle, of course. He thrived in it. But it left almost no time for you, his beautiful fiancee.

He would get up at the ass crack of dawn to leave for a run and make it to practice on time, leaving your warm, sleeping figure under the covers, and he usually returned so late that you were already in bed, breathing quietly and curled into a cute little ball that Bokuto loved wrapping himself around. Sure, he texted you constantly during the day, and called you whenever he could, but it wasn’t the same as being in your presence.

And he was really starting to miss you. Emotionally and physically. Afterall, Bokuto was still a man. A healthy, young man. And he had needs.

Today found Bokuto in a predicament he was often met with these days. He woke up not to the sound of his alarm, but to the hypersensitive feeling of his raging boner. He blinked a couple of times, groaning softly when he realized what exactly the problem was and what woke him up.

That’s another thing he was struggling with. Bokuto had a high sex drive. Like, really high. Much higher than his peers. He knew it had to do with his unending stamina. But he had never had a problem with it before. And when he woke up like this, the small vestiges of his wet dream still clinging to his mind, with your warm, pliant body right next to him, it was really hard to control himself, no pun intended.

Bokuto pouted and grumbled, turning his back to you and closing his eyes again. He blearily stared up at the clock hanging off the wall, nearly groaning when he realized his alarm was about to ring in ten minutes.

He could probably cum in ten minutes…

Bokuto bit his lip in contemplation, turning to look at your sleeping figure again. Should he do it? You had given your permission to wake you for sex one time weeks ago. He had never done it, but maybe now…?

You sighed in your sleep and shifted, and Bokuto’s eyes shot down to your ass. God, he hadn’t felt you up in so long. You wouldn’t mind, right? You had said you wouldn’t. So what was stopping him?

His erection gave another painful throb, and Bokuto threw caution to the wind, he pressed his front into your back, sighing in relief when his crotch made contact with your ass, easing the pressure a bit. You were sleeping in his old jersey, as you usually did, and tiny sleep shorts. Bokuto made quick work of them until your lower half was bare, shirt pushed up to your waist. He pushed his shorts down just enough to free his dick and gave it a few pumps, mouth dropping open at the sensation. It felt good. But he knew what would feel even better.

He couldn’t hold back his groan when he finally slid home, your pussy tight as anything, sucking him in even in your sleep. Bokuto shifted down a little, trying to hit deeper in the position he was in, jaw going slack when you unconsciously clenched around him. For a split second, he wondered how he had gone this long without feeling you wrapped around his cock like this. He also knew that now that he had done this once, there’s no way he was not doing this every single day going forward.

You shifted and moaned, and your sharp intake of breath told Bokuto that you were awake. Fuck, thank god.

“Kou?” Your voice was husky with sleep. Bokuto nearly came.

He wasted no time in hooking his hand under your knee, pulling your leg up and spreading you out enough for him to start pumping into you faster.

You gasped and arched back into him, presenting your bare neck to him. Bokuto licked a stripe up the skin, tasting salt on his tongue. He slid his other hand under you, wrapping around you so he could grope at your clothed breast, soft as ever and fitting in his hand perfectly. God, he had missed your body. He bit gently into your neck, reveling in the little sounds escaping your throat. The thought that he was making you feel good was intoxicating. It had always been a huge turn on of his. He didn’t need praise, just hearing you moan as his cock drove into your cunt over and over was validation enough for him.

Your walls were fluttering around him like mad, and Bokuto was so sure he would bust any moment. He picked up the pace and angled his hips just right, trying to chase that one spot in your pussy that he knew made you see stars. He felt himself grin a bit when you cried out and clenched hard around him, indicating he found it.

“Kou, ‘m gonna cum.” You slurred out, and Bokuto pounded into you faster. He wanted- no needed- for you to cum together. He’d missed you so goddamn much. He needed this. As much as he needed to win his next match.

The sound of both your moans as you finished drowned out Bokuto’s phone, which started chiming his usual wake up tune. Bokuto could give less of a shit though, his thighs shaking as he emptied his load into your hot opening, reveling in the way you pushed your ass eagerly back on him, whimpering and whining through your own orgasm. As he came down his high. Bokuto wrapped his arms tight around you, not bothering to pull out, wanting nothing more than to feel every inch of your body against his.

“Kotarou,” you whispered affectionately, and Bokuto’s heart skipped. “Your alarm is still going off, babe.”

Bokuto hummed into the back of your neck. “Let it.”

You giggled and sighed, finally slumping against him. Bokuto thought his chest might burst from how content he felt.

“Good morning, by the way.”

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!