ghiblisprite88

[ghiblisprite88]

Ruin Me Right

Ruin Me Right

The quiet life didn’t come naturally to Johnny “Soap” MacTavish. It was something he wrestled into submission, like disarming a live wire with nothing but grit and a prayer. But here he was—state-side, tucked into the folds of a sleepy town where nothing exploded except the late-summer blooms in neighborly gardens. The town didn’t know him as a sergeant, a ghost-chaser, a ghost-maker. They just knew him as John. Ex-military, kept to himself, owned a dog too smart for its own good.

He liked it that way. Clean. Quiet. Predictable.

Until he started seeing her.

First it was the farmer’s market. She was in front of him in line, arguing cheerfully with the old woman running the heirloom tomato stand. Then the gas station, crouched beside her truck, sleeves rolled up, trying to wrangle a leaky valve with grease-stained fingers. Then again at the hardware store. Then again. And again. Like a damn pattern.

He didn’t speak. Just watched. Curiosity crept in like smoke through cracks. There was something about her—the way she carried herself. Like she’d built her own armor and dared the world to test it.

One Saturday, walking his dog near the edge of the neighborhood, he spotted her again. In her yard this time. Knee-deep in a DIY project that looked like it might be a raised garden bed or a crime scene—he couldn’t quite tell. Music drifted from a small Bluetooth speaker, some old rock song that made him smile. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand, cursing when a plank slipped sideways.

Still, he didn’t approach. Just observed. Like he was studying a living piece of art too vivid to touch.

Then came the bar.

It was a local spot. Wood-paneled, too many neon signs, and a bartender with a crooked smile and memory like an elephant. Soap sat at the far end of the bar, nursing something dark and bitter, when she walked in. Loose jeans, tank top, a wild braid sliding over one shoulder like it had a mind of its own. She greeted the barkeep with that same effortless ease, and Soap heard it.

"Give me something strong, Mick. I wanna forget I ever knew what a shared checking account looked like."

Mick chuckled. "That bad, huh? How’s the paperwork goin'?"

She gave a tight, polite smile. "It’s going. Let’s not talk about it. Just gimme the firewater."

Soap’s grip tightened slightly around his glass. He didn’t know her. Not really. But hearing that? Felt like someone cracked a window open in the middle of winter.

She wasn’t just a face. She was weathering something.

And now, for the first time... he wanted to be more than just a shadow watching her from the quiet.

He wanted to know her name.

But he didn’t rush in. Johnny MacTavish was many things—reckless wasn’t one of them when it came to something that mattered. So instead, he leaned into what he knew: observation and charm.

He started asking around. Subtle. Casual. A comment to Mick about the woman with the braid and the storm in her smile. A shared laugh with the old vendor at the market. A quiet word to the woman who owned the flower shop where she’d bought a bundle of wild lavender. No one suspected his interest ran deeper than neighborly curiosity.

What he gathered was simple: she’d been here a while, came after her marriage cracked down the middle. She was rebuilding—a life, a home, maybe herself. Fiercely independent. Kept to herself but was kind when engaged. Carried herself like someone who’d had to stitch up her own wounds too many times.

Every detail pulled him in deeper.

He still hadn’t spoken to her.

But he would.

Soon.

It was a crisp Saturday morning, the farmer’s market buzzing with weekend chatter and the scent of fresh bread. He was browsing without purpose when he heard her voice—sharp, animated, and unmistakably familiar.

"Margie, I swear on my last roll of duct tape, if you try to charge me five bucks for three zucchinis again, I’m gonna make you eat 'em raw."

Soap’s head turned. She was at the tomato stand, facing off with the elderly vendor who wore a wicked grin that betrayed no real offense. It sounded like an argument, but something in the cadence—playful, almost sing-song—made him hesitate.

Still, instinct kicked in. He stepped closer, voice low and firm. "Everything alright here, miss?"

She turned to him slowly, one brow arched in clear amusement. Her eyes—God, those eyes—scanned him from boots to brows. "Well now, aren’t you gallant," she drawled. "You always jump into strangers’ vegetable disputes, or am I just special?"

Soap’s mouth twitched into a crooked grin. "Hard to stand by while someone's nearly assaulted over squash."

"Zucchini," she corrected, turning back to Margie with a wink. "Don’t worry, Margie. This knight’s got a code."

Margie cackled and shuffled off to haggle with another regular.

Soap stayed. "Didn’t mean to step on toes. Thought it was more serious."

"Mm," she hummed, folding her arms. "And what would you have done if it was? Headbutted an old lady with a walker?"

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Depends. She packin' a second zucchini?"

She snorted, the corner of her mouth tugging up despite herself. "You always this charming, or is it market day magic?"

"Just observant," he replied, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Been seein' you around. Thought it was time I introduced myself."

Her expression flickered, interest blooming like dawn behind guarded eyes. "That so? Well, you’ve got my attention, Mr…?"

"MacTavish," he said, offering a hand. "Johnny."

She took it. Firm grip. Warm.

"Ashley," she replied. "But everyone calls me Ash."

Their hands lingered a second too long before they pulled away.

"Nice to meet you, Ash," he said, voice roughened just enough to sound sincere.

"Likewise, Johnny," she answered, turning back to her bag of overpriced produce. "Next time you jump in to save a lady, make sure she actually needs saving."

He smiled, eyes already following her as she walked away.

He would. Every damn time.

The next time he saw her, she was in the plumbing aisle of the hardware store, surrounded by lengths of PEX tubing, fittings, and a cart that looked like it had been filled in a blind panic.

She was muttering to herself, holding a brass crimp ring in one hand and a connector in the other, eyes flicking between the two like they were plotting against her.

Soap leaned casually against the end of the aisle, watching.

"Y’know," he called out, voice warm with teasing amusement, "most folks like to ease into plumbing disasters. You look like you're gearing up to re-pipe a submarine."

She turned fast—startled at first, then narrowed her eyes. "Oh, it's you again. The vegetable vigilante."

"Guilty," he said, stepping closer, hands in his jacket pockets. "Judging by the warzone in your cart, I’m guessin’ this wasn’t part of your weekend plans."

She let out a breath and rolled her eyes. "Bathroom sink exploded. Pipes bubbled like they were possessed, then burst like a damn horror movie."

"Shut off the valve?"

"Course I did. I'm not completely helpless. Cleaned it up, cursed a lot, made coffee, and now I'm here." She held up the parts in her hands. "Thinking of switching to PEX. PVC is dead to me."

He gave a low, impressed whistle. "Bold move. Not a fan of primer and glue, huh?"

"Not a fan of surprise geysers and flooded tile floors."

He grinned. "Well, if you need a hand—or moral support—I happen to be very good with pipe."

Her brows lifted, smirking. "That supposed to be innuendo, or are you actually offering?"

He leaned in just slightly. "Can it be both?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "You're dangerous, Johnny."

"Only in all the best ways."

And for a moment, the aisle felt a little warmer. Closer. Charged.

She dropped the crimp ring into the cart. "Well then, Mr. MacTavish, you’re welcome to stick around. But if you’re gonna flirt, make yourself useful and help me find a shut-off valve that won’t leak when the house so much as sneezes."

He reached for the shelf without hesitation. "Aye aye, Cap’n. Let’s fix some broken things."

And just like that, the mission changed.

Two hours later, Soap stood in Ash’s bathroom, sleeves rolled to his elbows, crouched under the sink with a wrench in one hand and PEX tubing in the other. The place still smelled faintly like damp tile and citrus cleaner. Towels were piled near the door. Tools were scattered around them in organized chaos, a rhythm between them starting to hum.

Ash sat cross-legged just outside the door, sipping iced coffee and watching him with thinly veiled amusement.

"You know," she said, tilting her head, "for a guy who flirted his way into my plumbing emergency, you’re surprisingly competent."

His voice came muffled from beneath the sink. "That sounds suspiciously like a compliment."

"Maybe it is. Maybe I’m trying to get you to come back and fix the shower next."

He chuckled, low and deep. "You tryin' to seduce me with water pressure, Ash?"

She grinned. "Is it working?"

Soap slid further beneath the sink, shirt riding up to reveal a lean, defined torso cut from stone. Ash’s eyes caught on the trail of dark hair vanishing beneath the waistband of his jeans. Her mouth went dry before she masked it behind a sip of coffee.

He didn’t miss it. "You alright out there?"

"Peachy," she said, voice a touch higher than intended.

"Must be the heat," he murmured, knowingly. "This town doesn’t usually get this warm in the spring."

She rolled her eyes, flustered but not backing down. "If you're fishing for compliments, you're gonna have to do more than flash your abs, Johnny."

He twisted the wrench with a grin. "Wasn’t fishing. Just working. Can’t help it if the uniform rides up."

Ash smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "You do realize most plumbers don’t look like they belong on a calendar, right?"

He slid out from beneath the sink just enough to meet her gaze, sweat dampening the edges of his hairline. "And here I thought I was already your Miss June."

She blinked, laughed, shook her head. "You’re shameless."

"I prefer effective."

Their eyes locked for a moment too long. The playful tension thickened, ripe and buzzing like static before a storm.

Then he reached up, tightened the last connection, and twisted the valve.

No leak. No burst. Just smooth silence.

He stood and offered her his hand. "Go on then. Turn it on."

She hesitated, then moved to the faucet. The water flowed clean, steady.

She turned back, a satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. "Color me impressed."

He leaned in just a bit closer. "Then how about you color me invited back?"

Ash’s smile was slow, delicious. "Fix the shower without flooding the house, and I might just make you dinner."

Soap gave a short nod, eyes gleaming. "Deal. But fair warning—I'm handy with more than just pipes."

She laughed, full and wicked. "Yeah? We’ll see if your dinner manners match your plumbing game."

As he gathered his tools, Soap couldn’t help the way his chest warmed—not just from the flirtation, but the way she looked at him now.

Like he was more than just a moment.

Like he might be worth the risk.

And God help him… he wanted to be.

Dinner came two nights later.

Ash didn’t do frozen patties or pre-packed buns. She grilled thick, seasoned steaks—medium rare, perfectly charred at the edges—on a rusted old grill she swore worked better than anything fancy. She’d roasted red potatoes, grilled onions, sliced ripe tomatoes, and even whipped up some sort of aioli that Soap couldn’t pronounce but absolutely devoured.

They sat on the back porch, plates balanced on their knees, the hum of cicadas in the trees and the soft flicker of citronella candles casting gold across her porch rails.

Soap let out a low groan after the first bite. "You said dinner, not bloody sorcery. This steak’s better than sex."

Ash quirked a brow. "Bold assumption."

He gave her a sly smile over the rim of his beer. "Fair enough. Jury's still out. But this? Damn close."

She snorted into her drink, pleased despite herself. "Glad to see you’re easy to impress."

"Not easy, Ash. Just honest. And hungry."

They ate, they laughed, they drank—cheap beers and rich conversation. The tension was still there, but now it was tempered with something warmer. More real.

Soap leaned back in his chair, sipping his second bottle. "So," he started casually, eyes scanning her face, "you always this handy? DIY, plumbing, steaks that belong in a five-star joint... seems like you’ve been building your own empire out here."

Ash raised an eyebrow, catching the shift in tone. "You fishing for my resume or just buttering me up for dessert?"

"Little of both," he said, grinning. Then, softer: "Mostly curious. You've got a way about you. Fierce, smart. Independent as hell. Just makes a man wonder what kind of fire forged that steel."

She went quiet for a beat. Not defensive. Just weighing his words.

"You offering answers of your own? Or just hoping I spill for free?"

Soap held up both hands in mock surrender. "I’ll trade. Story for story. You go first, I’ll match you."

Ash tilted her head, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. "Alright then. You wanna know why I’m rebuilding everything from the ground up? Because the last man I trusted with the blueprint tried to burn the house down on his way out."

Soap didn’t flinch. Just nodded once. "Messy divorce?"

"More like a tactical retreat. But yeah. The man didn’t like it when I stopped making myself smaller to fit his comfort zone."

"His loss," Soap said simply. No pity, just truth.

Ash looked at him for a long moment, then nudged his foot with hers under the table. "Alright, your turn. What’s a soldier like you doing playing handyman in small-town nowhere?"

Soap’s smile faded into something softer. "Needed air. London’s too loud. War’s louder. Spent years with death in my rearview. Thought I’d see what peace looked like… turns out it wears flannel and fixes sinks."

Ash’s lips curved. "You don’t seem like the peace and quiet type."

"Neither do you."

They clinked their bottles together.

"To tactical retreats," she said.

"And surprise reinforcements," he added.

They drank. And beneath the stars, something unspoken settled between them.

Not a question.

A promise.

They lingered long after the food was gone, the plates set aside and the beers replaced with slower sips and quieter moments. The fireflies came out, dancing in the edges of the yard like tiny sparks trying to set the night on fire.

Ash leaned back on her palms, eyes tilted toward the stars, the edges of her voice a little looser now. "You ever think about what it costs to walk away from something? Not just the freedom you gain... but everything you give up in the process?"

Soap watched her, the soft glow of the porch light catching in the sapphire of her eyes. "Aye. Every bloody day."

He’d started gathering more of her story the last few days, quiet words exchanged with locals, each one painting a clearer picture. Her ex had been a man who thought love was a paycheck. Who demanded perfection but gave none in return. When Ash had stopped contorting herself into the shape he demanded, he turned cruel—legally, financially, emotionally. She’d survived by grit alone. Was still surviving. Rebuilding everything he'd tried to strip away.

Now here she was. Scarred, smart, and still somehow... shining.

He shifted closer, the wood creaking beneath his weight. "You know... you didn’t have to cook for me."

She glanced at him, a sly smile on her lips. "You saying you didn’t want the steak?"

He smirked. "I’m saying I would’ve come just to see you smile like that."

Ash let out a soft, breathy laugh. "You lay it on thick."

"Only when I mean it."

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It buzzed—alive, magnetic. He leaned his forearms on his thighs, head tipping slightly toward her.

"You’re rebuilding somethin’ beautiful here, Ash. With your own hands. Your own fire. That takes guts."

She met his gaze, unflinching. "I got tired of waiting for someone to save me. Figured it was time I learned how to do it myself."

Soap’s voice dropped. "Doesn’t mean you have to do it alone."

Their eyes locked. No teasing now. No banter.

He moved a fraction closer. She didn’t pull away.

Their knees brushed.

Her breath caught in her throat as he raised a hand slowly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, fingers lingering just a heartbeat too long.

"If I kiss you now," he murmured, his voice rough, "you won’t forget it."

Ash’s lips parted, eyes searching his. "Maybe that’s why you shouldn’t."

But neither of them moved. The air was thick with wanting, the kind that coils low in the belly and waits to strike. The kind that begs.

He hovered, close enough to taste her breath, to count every beat of her pulse beneath her skin.

Then he smiled. Slow. Wicked. Tender.

And leaned back.

Ash blinked, caught between relief and something sharper.

"Not tonight," Soap said, standing and offering his hand to help her up. "But soon."

She took it, rising with him.

"You always this patient?"

"Only when it’s worth it."

And with the night at their backs, the tension between them wound tighter—not snapped, not broken—just waiting.

Waiting to burn.

But when Soap left that night, and the porch light clicked off behind him, the quiet didn’t comfort her—it closed in.

Ash sat alone for a long time, the echo of his nearness lingering in the shadows. Her breath shallow. Her throat tight.

The memories came then, uninvited and ruthless.

Every fight. Every cold silence. Every time she’d asked—begged—for more. For affection. For attention. For anything beyond the empty echo of a paycheck thrown on the counter and a nod that said, Be grateful.

She had tried. God, she had tried. Made herself smaller, quieter, prettier, more agreeable. Held her tongue when she wanted to scream. Bit back tears while smiling for company. Told herself if she just did one more thing—made one more perfect dinner, planned one more weekend getaway—he’d finally see her.

He didn’t.

And when she walked away? He vowed to make her pay.

He did. Every court date. Every financial dagger. Every slanderous whisper he seeded around town. Like she had been the villain. Like trying to survive him had been betrayal.

Anger roared in her chest like wildfire, twisting through her ribs. It wasn’t just heartbreak—it was the injustice. The rebuilding. The starting over from the rubble he’d left behind.

Her fists clenched.

But then she thought of Johnny.

He hadn’t asked anything of her. No pressure. No games. Just offers. Quiet ones. Hands willing to help. Ears willing to listen. Eyes that didn’t expect—they saw.

It made something inside her tremble. Something that had lain quiet and guarded for too long.

She blew out a breath and leaned her head against the porch post, letting the wood ground her.

Who the hell is this man?

The next morning, she made it a point to ask around.

Not outright. Not desperate. Just curious.

At the flower shop, she asked if the new guy down on Meadow Street came in often. He did—once a week. Always bought the same thing. Lavender. Quiet and polite, tipped well.

At the coffee shop, she overheard a waitress giggle to a coworker that he always ordered his drink black and left extra for the high schoolers saving tips for college.

At the gas station, the clerk said he helped an old man change a flat in the middle of a thunderstorm last month. Didn’t even leave his name.

Johnny MacTavish didn’t take up space. He filled it. Gently. Steadily. Like someone who didn’t need to be loud to be seen.

Ash leaned on her truck that evening, fingers curled around a bottle of iced tea, and watched the sunset.

Maybe it was time she started gathering her own intel.

Because the more she learned… the more she realized Johnny wasn’t just a flirt with a toolbox.

He might just be everything her ex wasn’t.

Ash wasn’t impulsive—not anymore. She used to be, back when hope was easier to gamble. But this time, when she pulled into Johnny’s driveway with her heart doing a full-blown drum solo in her chest, it wasn’t recklessness. It was intention.

She’d baked the cookies herself—Toll House, from scratch, no shortcuts. Still warm in the Tupperware container nestled in her passenger seat. Next to them sat a bottle of Highland single malt scotch, aged fifteen years, the kind of liquor that whispered respect instead of shouting status.

She'd called it a thank-you gesture in her mind all the way there. But she knew better.

This was her planting a flag.

The house was quiet, modest, but neat. Like him. The porch light was off, but his truck sat in the drive. Her boots crunched on gravel as she walked up, nerves twisting tighter with every step. What if he wasn’t home? What if he was… busy? What if she was misreading everything?

She squared her shoulders and knocked.

A pause. Then footsteps.

The door swung open, and there he was—Johnny. Shirtless, towel slung around his neck, hair damp like he’d just come from the shower. A brow arched the second he saw her.

"Ash?"

She cleared her throat, lifting the container slightly. "Uh… hope I’m not interrupting anything. Just… brought you some cookies. And—"

She held up the bottle. "A bribe. Scottish-grade. As thanks for the plumbing save."

His expression shifted—softened. Something warm and unreadable in his eyes. He stepped aside without hesitation.

"You come bearing baked goods and whisky. How could I ever turn you away?"

She laughed nervously, stepping inside. The space smelled like cedar soap and clean linen. Cozy. Unexpected.

He took the cookies from her hands and set them on the counter, fingers brushing hers just enough to make her skin tighten with heat.

"These homemade?"

"Of course," she said. "If I was gonna butter you up, I figured I should go all in."

He smirked. "You nervous, Ash?"

"A little."

He stepped closer. Not enough to crowd—just enough to tilt the gravity of the room toward him.

"Good. Means it matters."

She met his gaze, steadier now. "I’ve been learning about you."

His brow ticked up. "Yeah? Should I be worried?"

"Maybe," she teased. Then softer, "No. You’ve got a reputation, MacTavish. Helping folks. Showing up. Quietly. Consistently."

He looked down for a second, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

"Didn’t figure I was being watched."

"Neither did I," she said, almost a whisper. "But here we are."

The silence stretched, full and charged.

He picked up the scotch bottle, weighing it thoughtfully. "You know, I’ve got two glasses and a porch swing that’s got your name on it."

Ash smiled. Stepped closer.

"Then pour, soldier. Let’s talk intel."

And maybe, just maybe, truth.

He poured the scotch into two short tumblers—no ice, just the raw amber fire of it. They stepped out onto the porch together, the swing creaking gently beneath their weight as they settled in side by side.

The night wrapped around them like a warm cloak. Crickets sang in the distance, and the stars blinked overhead, soft and scattered.

Ash took her first sip and hissed lightly through her teeth. "That burns."

"Aye," Soap said with a grin. "All the best truths do."

They sat in silence for a moment, the kind that wasn’t awkward but comfortable, like their bones had already memorized each other’s presence.

Ash tilted her head. "So what’s your story, Johnny? I mean the real one. The one behind the tools and smirks and polite ‘yes ma’ams.’"

He let out a low breath, swirling the scotch in his glass. "I used to be very good at hurting people. Sometimes for a reason. Sometimes… just because that was the job. It changes you, being good at that."

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

"When I left," he continued, "I thought I’d shed it all. Turns out, you don’t walk away from ghosts. You carry 'em. Learn to make room. Keep 'em quiet."

Ash sipped again. "You sleep at night?"

He looked at her then, something raw flickering behind his calm. "Some nights. Others I just wait for the sun."

She nodded, gaze on the horizon. "I get that."

"Yeah?"

"You rebuild your life and hope the next one fits better. Hope it doesn’t cut you in the same places."

Soap turned to her, his voice low and even. "And is this life starting to fit yet?"

Ash hesitated. Then looked at him fully.

"It’s getting there."

He smiled, something soft tugging at the corners. "Glad I get to be part of the blueprint."

They sat like that, sipping scotch, the swing rocking gently beneath them. His knee brushed hers and didn’t move. She didn’t pull away.

"You make a habit of charming your way into women’s homes via faulty plumbing?" she teased.

"Only when fate insists."

Ash let her head fall back in a laugh that melted into a sigh. "Damn fate."

"Damn fate," he echoed.

She turned to him then, closer now. Not quite touching, but the space between them was tight and full of something that hummed.

"You gonna kiss me tonight, MacTavish?"

He leaned in, breath mingling with hers. "Not unless you want me to."

Ash’s fingers ghosted down the side of his hand, lacing between his.

"That’s the first thing I’ve wanted in a long time."

His lips brushed hers, featherlight. A promise, not a possession.

And when they pulled apart, it wasn’t final.

It was just the beginning.

Weeks passed.

Ash’s divorce was finalized with a thud of a judge’s gavel and the cold shuffle of paperwork. No fanfare. No victory lap. But there was relief. A breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding finally released from her chest. It didn’t erase the pain—but it lightened the load.

Through it all, Johnny stayed. Quiet. Steady. Present. Never once did he push. Never once did he expect.

He just showed up.

Sometimes it was small things—dropping off a tool he “happened” to have when she mentioned needing one, showing up at the market to lift heavy things with a shrug and a smirk. Sometimes it was just his company. A warm presence leaning against the fence while she weeded the garden. A voice beside her on the porch as twilight fell, trading stories and silences.

Flirting became as natural as breathing. Teasing touches on the arm. Glances that lingered. Jokes traded like secrets. And every kiss? Deeper. Slower. More certain.

What started as a brush of lips on the porch turned into kisses in the hallway, her back against the wall and his hands pressed to either side of her head. Laughter shared over dinner that dissolved into slow, heated breaths in the kitchen when she leaned in close to grab a plate and didn’t pull away.

He’d touch her like she was something sacred—palms on her hips, fingers brushing the curve of her spine, lips at her temple as if asking permission every time. She’d answer with her own kind of prayer—hands in his hair, soft gasps against his throat, the tremble of want sparking beneath her skin.

And still—he waited.

Even when she melted against him. Even when her body begged to forget everything but him.

He waited.

Until the night she didn’t want to wait anymore.

They were lying on her couch, her head on his chest, his fingers drawing idle patterns on her arm. The TV murmured something forgettable in the background, but all she could hear was his heartbeat.

Ash tilted her head up to look at him, her voice a whisper in the low light.

"I want this."

He looked at her, really looked—searching her face for uncertainty, for hesitation.

She met his gaze without flinching. "I want you."

And this time, when he kissed her, it wasn’t a promise.

It was surrender.

And it burned.

They didn’t rush. They moved like dusk swallowing daylight—slow, inevitable, golden at the edges. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only breath, skin, and the fragile, sacred ache of finally letting go.

He kissed her like he’d been waiting a lifetime—his hands mapping her with reverence, not urgency. Her cheeks. Her jaw. The hollow of her throat. Every inch of her held like a prayer answered. His mouth was soft, then firm, then teasing—all hunger wrapped in restraint.

Her shirt slipped over her head. His fingers trembled just slightly as they traced the curve of her waist, the line of her ribs. Like he was memorizing her shape in case this was a dream. She watched his face, eyes dark and awed, lips parted as if stunned by the simple act of being allowed to touch.

She cupped his face and kissed him deep—pressed herself against him with a shudder that said this is real. I am ready.

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, carried her with a soldier’s ease and a lover’s care. Down the hallway. Into the bedroom. The sheets were cool, but their bodies burned hotter than any fire.

Clothes fell away in pieces, scattered across the floor like old fears finally shed.

Johnny wasn’t gentle out of caution—he was gentle because she was sacred. Because every kiss against her shoulder, every stroke down her spine, was reverence carved into motion. Her body was his altar, and he worshipped it with lips and hands and breathless devotion.

Ash responded with equal intensity. Her fingers gripped his back like lifelines, legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him into her heat. Gasps bloomed into moans—low, guttural, the kind that came from someplace deep and wounded and starved. Her body welcomed him like it had been waiting only for him, and Johnny answered every plea with fire.

Every touch ignited her. Every sound she made—every whimper, every sharp inhale—only fed his hunger. When his fingers found her soaked and ready, he growled against her skin, pressing into her slowly, reverently. At the first thrust of his fingers, she arched, gasping his name like it meant something holy.

He added another, kissing down the line of her throat, nipping at her collarbone, his need clawing under his skin. Her nails scratched down his back as he stroked her with a rhythm that unspooled her inch by inch, waves of pleasure cresting faster, harder, hotter.

“C-close,” she choked, voice breaking.

He pressed his lips to her ear, voice thick and reverent. “Are ye now? Don’t hold back, bonnie. Let go for me.”

Ash shattered. Her cry cracked the room as her body locked around his hand, thighs trembling, slick heat flooding his fingers. She clung to him, gasping his name like a litany, every aftershock dragging her deeper into the haze.

Johnny didn’t move—he watched her, awestruck. The sight of her undone, breathless and glowing, seared itself into his bones. She collapsed back onto the sheets, dazed and divine, every inch of her shimmering in the aftermath.

Johnny wasn’t done with her. He growled low against her neck, one hand gripping her thigh as he hiked it high against his hip. His body trembled with restraint, every muscle taut with the need to be inside her—but he held, waiting, watching her. That look in his eyes was pure fire—primal, reverent, desperate for her word.

“Tell me, lass…” he rasped, voice thick and full of grit. “Ye ready? Because I won’t stop once I start. I need to feel you… all of you. Let me in, bonnie. Let me show you what it means to be wanted.”

Ash moaned, dragging him down by the nape of his neck, crushing her lips to his in a kiss that was all fire and desperation. Her heel dug into the curve of his ass, pulling him flush to her as she gasped against his mouth.

“Please, Johnny,” she breathed, wrecked and wanting. “Fill me. Ruin me. Make me come so hard I forget everything else. Just… take me.”

“Tell me, lass…” he rasped, voice thick and full of grit. “Ye ready? Because I won’t stop once I start. I need to feel you… all of you. Let me in, bonnie. Let me show you what it means to be wanted.”

They moved together, raw and hungry, wrapped in moonlight and the shadows of everything they’d survived. When he finally entered her, it was with a groan that rumbled from deep in his chest—one hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her hip like it grounded him. Ash gasped, arching into him, her name falling from his lips like worship.

Their rhythm built slowly, relentlessly. Every thrust from him met with a roll of her hips, her nails dragging down his back, her voice a breathless echo in his ear. The air turned thick with heat and need, skin slick, breath ragged. He kissed her through every gasp, every shiver—chasing her pleasure like it was a mission etched into his soul.

When she began to fall apart beneath him, her cries trembling with the edge of release, he tightened his grip, teeth grazing her jaw.

"That's it, bonnie... let me feel it. Come on me, love, make me lose it."

She shattered again, a scream ripping through her throat as she clenched around him, her whole body tensing in a wave of exquisite surrender. That was all it took.

Johnny followed her over the edge with a broken moan, thrusts losing rhythm as he spilled into her, buried deep, holding her like she'd anchored him to the earth.

And still, he didn’t let go.

Even as their breathing slowed, even as the room turned still, he cradled her close, easing her trembling limbs beneath the covers. He kissed her temple, whispered something soft—inaudible, but warm.

Then he disappeared for a moment, only to return with a damp cloth, gently wiping the sweat and slick from her skin without a word. He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, tucked her against his chest, and only when she was fully settled did he speak again—his voice low, tender, teasing.

"You realize you’re stuck with me now, right? No goin’ back. I’ve been thoroughly ruined by you."

Ash gave a sleepy laugh, curling into him, her palm pressed to his heart.

"Guess we’re both ruined, then."

Johnny smiled, pulling her tighter.

And for the first time in years, she believed it.

The morning came gently.

Ash stirred beneath soft sheets, her limbs heavy with that delicious kind of ache—the kind that reminded her of every moment, every thrust, every whispered plea the night before. She didn’t want to open her eyes yet. Not when she was so perfectly wrapped in warmth.

Johnny’s body was a solid wall at her back, one arm draped around her waist, anchoring her in place. Their legs tangled beneath the covers, his steady breath fanning the back of her neck. She could feel his heartbeat against her spine, slow and steady, grounding.

His scent surrounded her—clean soap, worn cotton, and something distinctly him.

For once, she didn’t feel the tight coil of regret or shame clawing at her chest. There was no second-guessing. No fear. Just comfort.

And safety.

She let herself smile, slow and private.

Ash hadn’t known what it meant to feel wanted without being used. To be seen without being judged. Her ex had never made her feel like this—not even close. Every time before had come with weight, expectation, the hollow sting of giving more than she received.

But Johnny… he’d asked for nothing. He’d simply been there. And last night, he gave like he meant it. Like he needed her to know, down to her bones, that she was enough.

Her fingers found his forearm beneath the blanket, tracing lazy lines across his skin. Behind her, Johnny stirred.

“Mm… you’re trouble, you know that?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and affection.

Ash smiled wider, eyes still closed. “Took you long enough to catch on.”

He chuckled, nuzzling the back of her neck. “Aye, but now you’re here. In my bed. Can’t let you leave now.”

She turned slightly, just enough to peek at him over her shoulder.

“You planning on kidnapping me, MacTavish?”

He grinned, devilish and soft all at once. “Wouldn’t need to. I reckon you’re already half in love with me.”

Ash rolled her eyes, but her grin betrayed her.

“Maybe,” she whispered.

And for once, she didn’t need to hide how good it felt to say that out loud.

Johnny didn’t let her go that morning. Not when she stretched with a soft, satisfied sigh, wincing at the ache between her thighs with a grin on her lips. Not when she rolled into him, burying her face in his chest like it was the most natural place in the world.

He made them coffee. Cooked eggs while shirtless, hair a mess, grinning like a man who’d finally stopped running. He wasn’t rushing off to a base. There were no briefings, no guns to clean. No weight of command hanging over his shoulders. Just this. Her. A warm skillet and two mugs on a quiet morning.

Ash sat at his kitchen table in his T-shirt, watching him like she still didn’t quite believe this was real. And Johnny? He moved like a man who had made his choice.

He started fixing things around the house. Not for show. Not for praise. Just because he could. A creaky cabinet hinge. A stubborn back door lock. He even started sanding down the back porch railing.

Neighbors started calling him by name.

She caught him once in town helping the baker unload a delivery truck, sleeves rolled up, forearms dusted with flour, grinning as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

He bought her a toolbox—engraved her name into the handle. Called it a peace offering after stealing her favorite hammer.

Ash knew it then. Johnny wasn’t just sticking around. He was building something.

And with him, she didn’t just feel seen—she felt chosen.

He still kept the edge, the fire. The way he looked at her when she passed him a coffee in nothing but his shirt should’ve been illegal. But the war was no longer the center of his gravity.

She was.

And though neither said it yet, the foundation was already there—steady, strong, and ready to hold them both.

[ghiblisprite88]

Stone bound: Oaths of Ash & Stone

The Weight of Ordinary

In the foggy bustling city of Chicago, skyscrapers pierce the sky as cars below bellow in engine revs and horns. People hustle from place to place like ants in a colony. All but one that is. Going against the grain as always been a talent for one very late to work Mira Brooks.

“SHIT SHIT SHIT! Hold the door!”

Streaks of blue zip by people as Mira scrambles to the elevator; shooting out her hand to keep the doors from closing and squeeze herself into the limited space left inside. Panting she was definitely the odd one out. Her companions in the elevator all wore suits and ties while she was showing up in skinny jeans, a very visibly loved jacket that was starting to show its age, sneakers, light brown hair streaked with brilliant blue and a dash of freckles across her nose. Any other time she’d laugh at the visual, but she was very much so late and could already feel the wrath of her boss up above. Upon reaching her floor she bolted out of the elevator; navigating the halls on the lookout for her boss, when her cubicle came into view she quickly slipped into her chair and booted up her computer like she had been there the whole time.  Act cool act cool.

“Ms. Brooks! How gracious of you to bless us with your presence this morning.” Growled Mr. Wilson.

Mira groaned internally; she really thought she made it under the radar. Apparently not. She was kicking herself now for pulling an all-nighter to finish up a few articles she was writing for the paper she worked at. Diligence doesn’t always pay off. Peeking up at her boss she could see he was furious and was likely going to give her the hammer of judgement.

“My office…now!” He sneers.

Ok so working at the paper was great and all but Mr. Wilson was a horror to work for. It was like Snape and Voldemort were combined into one. He was calculating, undermining, mean for usually no reason and loved to overwork everyone. Power trip much? Yes absolutely. Groaning and banging her head on her desk as he left; Mira prepared herself for an ass chewing.

Once she collected enough courage to withstand the impending doom she could feel; Mira knocked quietly on his office door. He barked for her to come in, how professional. Letting herself in she greeted him meekly and he barked yet again for her to take a seat.  Settling into a seat before his desk; she watched as Mr. Wilson rest his elbows on his desk steepling his hands under his chin.

“So, what is it this time? Run all the way here from the belt line? Go sightseeing before work? Stay up all night out with your friends?” He antagonizes.

“Uh no sir. I finished the three articles that are due this week. I was doing extensive research and pulled an all-nighter. They are in your inbox sir.”

“Heh an all-nighter you say. Is that what kids are calling it these days?” He complained as he opened his email.

Upon seeing that Mira had indeed sent him the articles he scowled even further. He likely was in a bad mood and Mira knew he liked to take it out on folks he thought weren’t pulling their weight around the office. Today was her “lucky” draw…great. He was an older man nearly pushing his seventies and he did not have a lot of patience for anyone born after the sixties. Mira was aware of this; especially when she came to work with her blue streaks in her hair, she had done everything she was supposed to like to check the employee handbook, check with HR and appearance policies and nothing barred her from doing it. But the look of pure rage on Mr. Wilson’s face when she came into work was quite a sight. He raged about if for two whole weeks but know it seems he is over that little out there move of hers.

“You kids are always so snarky! Fine fine so you did the articles. Had you been here on time I could have spent more time on explaining this, but the higher ups need a reporter to do a piece about some freaking ruins somewhere I don’t know…Ireland I think. Anyways they need a piece about the ruins and the history to generate some buzz for the museum of natural history who is going to be receiving artifacts uncovered there. Everyone else I could think of have other obligations which leaves you.” Mr. Wilson complains really and gives a disdainful look.

Wow Mr. Wilson think it don’t wear it on your face, would ya? Mira tried to be polite and smile as he explained everything in a rush. Wait hold on…did he say Ireland? Like Nessie and leprechauns’ kind of Ireland?

“The flight is covered by the company and an inn was booked. All the details have been sent to your email. You have three weeks to get this done you hear me? I want this article to be delivered directly to my email regardless of if it’s been edited or not. Well? What are waiting for get out of here!” Mr. Wilson bellows.

Mira snaps out of her thoughts and thanks him for his time, even though he doesn’t deserve it. Professionalism for the win on her part. Returning to her cubicle she is quick to get her email open and learn the scope of this project. WHAT!? Her flight leaves in like five hours!

“Shit! You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Mira prints off her tickets, inn information, itinerary and shuts down her station. Whipping out her cell she calls her best friend Sara. Stashing everything in her bag, the phone still ringing in her ear, she hustles out of the office.

“Hello?”

“Sara! Sara oh my god I need your help like asap!”

“What’s going on are you ok?”

“NO! My boss is sending me to Ireland to write a piece and only gave me today’s notice. My flight is in about four and a half hours. I need to pack and get my passport and what if I can’t convert my money? How will I get around? Rent a car? Don’t I need and international license for that? I don’t know wh—”

“MIRA! STOP! Chill out girl. I’ll leave work right now meet me at home and we will get it sorted out, ok? Take the line home instead of a taxi; the traffic is stupid today.”

“Y-yea ok. I’ll see you at home then.

“Ok see you in a bit and remember to breathe, ok?”

“Thanks Sara.”

“Heh any time.”

Mira takes a deep breath and makes her way to the station to hope on the line; once she’s on the right train she takes a seat and starts to research on her phone. The ruins in question are of an old castle that was recently uncovered, supposedly it was lost to history as stop for the knights templar. Ok that’s new information, all the way in Ireland? Thought that was just an English thing. She found her inn online and checked it out, it wasn’t really close to the ruins, she would have to rent a car likely to get to it as it was a bit out of the way of any roads and surely no cabby would take her there. After learning more about where she was going, she started to think up a plan on how to travel and how much to bring with her, how she was going to handle everything while she was gone. She would likely need to pay Sara ahead of time for the time she would be gone. Adulting sucks honestly, bills and bills and more bills which is why Mira felt like slave to her job. With out money you go hungry, you sleep on the streets or worse you die. Life can shift at any time in a city like Chicago, get complacent and you can lose everything. Shaking her head from those thoughts she hears her stop is coming up; once the cart stops, she makes her way through the station back up to the street to get to her apartment building.

Once in the apartment Mira is anxious yet again; picking through her closet she finds her luggage from her last trip to Murtle Beach for spring break like six years ago. Sifting through her room she found her passport, dragged out totes of clothes and shoes because work or not you don’t travel abroad looking like a bum. Not long after the jingle of keys announces Sara’s return as well.

“HEY, SARA, I’M IN HERE!”

“Whoa this is a disaster zone.”

“Heh yea kinda. Found my documents and printed off everything I need. Now it’s picking out clothes. For three weeks that’s what four pairs of pants and shirts, maybe a dress or two, and two pairs of shoes?”

“For Ireland? Won’t it be cold?”

“Right, it’s still winter there too. Well ok then skip the dresses and let’s pack in a jacket and my hoodie. Anything else I need I can just get while there and donate it before I come back.”

“See there you go, you on a mission is not only entertaining but a learning experience for me too. Ok so you have about a little over an hour to pack up and then we can take the line to the airport. I’ll make us something to eat while you sort this out.”

“I swear you are a god send I’m starving.”

“Hmmm someone has to have their head on straight for you.”

“Shut up!”

Sara cackles as she leaves to the kitchen. Mira and Sara have a long-standing friendship, they met in college right out of high school and have been close ever since. In their late twenties now neither of them has found the milestone theory they were taught at a young age fit them. Sure, they went to school and got their degrees, but the get married and have kids’ bit was just not for them. Sara was nearly married once but the man cheated, and she called it off. Mira never had that connection to want to get married just long relationships that usually fizzled out. Guys were too focused on physical things and Mira craved intellectual stimulation more; she just couldn’t be bothered to date currently while working at the paper the hours were atrocious.

After having dinner Sara accompanied Mira to the airport. Sara repeatedly telling Mira to quit worrying about little things like the bills, she would handle it. Once they reached the check in desk and got to security, that’s when the gravity of the situation his Mira.

“I’ll miss you.” She says quietly.

“Oh, I’ll miss you too. Have fun while you’re over there ok? Your boss can eat a bag of johnsons.”

“Sara! Oh my god.”

“I saw it on a sticker, it fit the situation. Anyways, gimme a text or call when you make it and tell me all about it ok?”

“Yea I will. Time difference might be off though.

“Eh I don’t mind. Do it anyways.”

“Well this is me. Try not to miss me too much.”

“Too late.”

Sara pulls Mira into a rib cracking tight hug; they squeeze each other and giggle together in the moment. Emotions swirling in her chest Mira had to break away.

“See you soon Sara.”

“Yep, see you soon. Have fun out there.”

Mira waves to Sara as she lines up to security and gets checked through; it’s when she’s on the other side searching for her flight gate that she feels the pang of saying good bye. She was never good at saying goodbye, it stung every time. Wishing the feelings away she searches for the gate and thankfully she made it just before boarding started. Once boarded on the plane she found her seat and stashed her small luggage in the bin above before taking her window seat. The foggy grey of Chicago still the same as that morning. Getting comfortable; Mira saw the screen on the back of the seat in front of her say the flight would be seven nearly eight hours long. Good grief she hoped she could get a nap in during that time.

Once the plane is geared to take off, Mira takes her last looks of Chicago before she jets off into the unknown. She’d never been abroad before, which is part of why she freaked out so much when her boss dumped this project on her last minute. Launching into the sky above the clouds that left Chicago grey; Mira feels excited, it’s a new experience and the trip ahead is full of possibilities.

Thankfully Mira was lucky and didn’t have anyone sat next to her in her row. The flight attendants were kind and offered snacks and drinks once altitude was reached. The drone of the plane a bit much on the ears, thankfully Mira brought her headphones to drown it out. She had found podcast about Irish history to give her a bit of insight to what kind of country she was going to and so she could understand the people for her article later. It’s not long and she falls victim to the husky voice of the podcaster and slumbers in her seat.

“Attention passengers this is your captain speaking. We will be landing shortly; the weather is rather cold upon arrival 45 degrees with misting rain. Please remain in your seats and follow direction of the staff please.”

Well Mira was certainly awake now; looking out the window she could see the green hills cast in the glow of the sunrise. Sunrise? What time was it? Looking at the screen on the seat again she could see she was now in a new time zone. Five hours ahead actually than what it would be in Chicago. That’s crazy. A new wave of excitement washed over her; it was beautiful, and she couldn’t wait to experience Ireland.

Upon landing, Mira grabbed her things and shuffled off the plane like everyone else, yet when she touched ground, she felt different. Like a barrier was broken somewhere within. Chumping it up to just feeling different in a new land, she continued. Finding a cab to take her to the Inn was easy enough; after checking in and getting settled in her room, she sighed in relief. She left a voicemail for Sara that she had made it; she always kept her promises. Jet lag did not take long to hit; after a small lunch that day, she passed out in her room for the rest of the first day.

[ghiblisprite88]

Stonebound

Hey folks! I have a story I'd like to introduce to you called Stonebound. Imagine a girl thrown headfirst into another world, finding a trapped man—but not an ordinary man, a gargoyle trapped in stone. Venture with her as she not only frees him but saves his world from the tyrannical Council, who rule over the lands, oppressing folk of all kinds.

[ghiblisprite88]

Empty

I'm not attempting to be dramatic here, but I need to get this continual thought loop out of my head. I don't have a platform here or anyone invested in my being, but it's a place I turn to for my creativity and just to find like-minded individuals.

I'm struggling; with many things honestly ranging from traumas, emotions I don't know how to process, depression ( I suspect idk for sure), lack of drive, and just feeling empty all the time. I don't think anyone can navigate life without being damaged by experiences at one time or another; I feel like my life experience has just been one giant woodchipper I keep falling into. It's taken me a long time to realize some of my experiences were not normal and never should have happened to me, but if being American is anything it's being failed repeatedly by "government and so-called protections" didn't matter if I reached out for help through proper channels as you are taught as a child everyone turned a blind eye instead of doing their duty. I have clawed my way out of those experiences just trying to live a comfortable life; yet all I feel is empty, like a black hole void inhabits my chest and devours everything. I don't have peace; I have no drive, excitement, or passion, I just move through life robotically, and now I'm starting to think there is something wrong with me that can't be repaired.

Sure folks close to me have suggested therapy; but I'm chicken shit and feel like I'll just be judged or taken advantaged of yet again. That my issues will just be a retirement investment for some therapist who doesn't give two shits about my problems. How can I open myself up to that? These last few years have been tough for everyone and my issues are nothing to stand on a soap box about compared to others; I just feel like I've lost the connection to my soul...I feel like a ghost of who I was or who I thought I was. Am I the only one feeling this way?

[ghiblisprite88]

Drowning

I don't know who needs to hear this; but no one ever figures their life out no matter what age. No one fits perfectly into the cookie-cutter lie we have been fed since elementary years. Going to school, getting a good job, buying that house with the white picket fence, having a family...these are fictitious milestones that do not guarantee happiness. Do not let yourself be enslaved to the lie; find your happiness for yourself, and strive to not be a sheep among the herd. Be you, there is only one you, and no one else can take that from you. Feel like you are drowning but don't know why? It's because we were given a shattered tank and told it was a brilliant castle...don't settle for the bare minimum. Strive for what you deserve, if people or family don't agree then that is their loss, you live for yourself not the expectations of others. Life is short...we all know this, so why struggle to please everyone else but ourselves? Live in the way you are satisfied with (Without harming others of course) so you can meet your ending days with no regrets. Have the life you deserve.

[ghiblisprite88]

Safe Word

SoapxGhostxFemreader

Quite honestly this is nothing but a daydream I had and I needed to get it out. Hopefully, it suits someone else's tastes as well.

Established relationship, Soap returns home needing release, Ghost is brought along for the ride, safety words used, p and v, double pen, squirting and little bit of aftercare.

MDNI

If you are under 18 I will ban you so fast your head will spin.

Enjoy my brain rot.

Good god it was raging outside your house; torrential rain my ass it was pissing cats and dogs out with lightning plus thunder so loud you felt your house vibrate with it. It was spring time though and storms always kicked up right before summer; you just wished you weren't home all alone hoping the power stayed on. Wrapping up in a blanket on the couch you let your TV play in the background as you scroll on your phone; it's been ages it feels like since you've heard from Johnny. Not knowing where he is or for how long eats at you but you can't bring yourself to take him away from his work. He does the dirty work no one else wants to do you know that much; he's good about keeping most of the details away from you the less you know the better he'd say. There were many times he would come home beat up; worn out or so pissed off you'd think the world personally affronted him. It took some time but you figured him out without him even having to say anything; you were always an observer before an engager. He liked that about you he would say. Joke about how maybe you should have gone into the military you would have done great at it, but you knew it wasn't for you. Too constricting, too rigid and you valued your sleep, to be honest. A smile tugs your lips as you remember joking around with Johnny about such things…you missed him. An aching hole sat where your heart should be…only when he was home did the ache go away. Sure you could be independent while he was gone and keep everything running smoothly but nothing compared to the warmth and comfort having him home could do for your mental health and soul. A sigh leaves your lips as you get cozy on the couch falling into the various rabbit holes on the net.

A series of booming bangs make you jump a few hours later; clutching your blanket around yourself you get up and immediately go to the side table by the foyer grabbing the pistol from a compartment underneath that Johnny insisted was needed for your protection. Holding the pistol like he taught you to; you quietly walk up to the door and look through the peephole. A dark figure stands on the porch; lightning flashes beyond the porch illuminating a cold-featured Johnny. You know that look…a mission would have to have gone bad for him to be that closed off and pissed. Flipping the safety back on the pistol you set it back on the table before unlocking the door and falling into your role to bring your Johnny back.

"Soap? Safety word?" "Johnny." "What level?" "Six."

You had a system you followed; when he was like this you knew he needed an outlet and with some exploration, you found that making his name a safety word worked best. When he was brought out of his mind back to himself he would use it and you would let go of the control you had on him. The levels ranged from 1 being the least concerning to 10 being the worst. He was pretty pissed at a 6 and you knew he would need to let it out to bring himself back to normal. Opening the door fully to allow him in, you watch as he shuffles through; he is drenched and tense. Taking a moment to close your eyes and center yourself you close and lock the door completely before you give in to your role.

"Strip!" You grit out.

The sound of wet clothes hitting the floor meets your ears moments later, the clunking of heavy boots and his rucksack. Once he is down to his boxer briefs glaring at you; only then do you let the blanket you held fall revealing to him how you are wearing his shirt and your booty short undies he loves so much. You were just lounging at home so there was no sense in getting dressed beyond pjs. But with the way he was glaring at you it wouldn't have mattered what you had on his stare alone makes you feel naked and vulnerable. You can't slip though he needs your help.

"Go." You whisper.

The man immediately crowded you and pinned you up against the nearest wall with a little more force than necessary was not your Johnny…this was Soap you were dealing with. The hardened soldier. The demolitions specialist who could invoke fear near and far. Not the goofy, charming Scot you loved dearly…but to get that scot to come back, you would have to get the rage out of Soap first. His lips crashed on yours; his hands grasping your hips and pulling them up against his making sure you felt how hard he was. Soon he was yanking your shirt off and ripping your underwear from you; only to then grab your legs and hold you against the wall. Good thing you were into rough sex; you were already slick and knew foreplay would be skipped this round. He grabs his dick and lines up with you before he pulls you down onto him. Even slick the stretch is a bit much and you cry out both in pain and lust; his grueling pace only makes you louder. Holding on to him in any way you can you grip his grown-out mohawk with one hand while the other digs nails into his shoulder.

"Come on Soap is that all you got?" You hiss.

The man currently pounding into you from below growls as he grabs you and walks to the dining room table throwing off the decorative bowl and wickerballs. He nearly drops you on the table as he pulls your hips to the edge only to drive into your walls like a batting ram. You grip the edges of the table for stability as you see the rage in the man above you drive him into a frenzy thrusting into you faster, harder, rougher and it makes your blood sing. Each hit against your cervix brings you closer to the edge that will make you see stars, the harshness he uses as he palms your breast or bites at your flesh doesn't deter your euphoria as it rises and rises.

"S-shit gunna cum. Come on Soap fuck me like you mean it!" You cry out.

Another growl from the man echos in the room as he grips your hips in a punishing grasp surely to leave bruises. He pulls out to nearly the tip before slamming back into you with all the force he can muster; his pace is faster and getting sloppier as you crest over the edge and moan out as you cum all over him. A shouted moan leaves his lips as he explodes inside you pumping inside you still until he shivers with aftershocks. Only once he is collapsed to his elbows on the table looking up at you did you hear it.

"J…Johnny."

You smile sweetly at him and gesture toward him; he's quick to pull you to him and hold you softly. His heart beating rapidly under your ear as you are drawn to his chest. His skin was slick with sweat, smelling of gunpowder, fuel of some sort, and just him.

"Steamin fuckin Jesus!"

"Had a rough one this time didn't you?"

"Aye…fuckin joke it was. Ye alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine I always like it on the rougher side you know that. Let's get you showered and get you some food." You offer.

"Y're too damn good to me."

"Oh, you're not off the hook just yet. You had your fun I will have mine before long." You tease.

Shoving him into a shower moments later and giving him some leftovers from dinner you made earlier; you are not satisfied until you see him eat, drink and settle with you on the couch. Finally, you can relax; curled up against his side as he nurses a cold beer.

"Fuck a cold brew hits different when I'm home."

"I bet."

Not long after you are pulled into his lap; straddling his lap watching the TV and he gets some very inquisitive hands roaming all over your body. Playing with you listening to your gasps and moans as he pinches a nipple here, nips your neck there, and caresses your pussy before letting his fingers stroke and play in your wetness. He does this until you are moaning his name and begging for his fingers, he can never deny you when you call out so beautifully. He takes his time in stripping you again; then lifting you only to slowly sink you onto his hardened dick picking a slow pace so he can feel every inch inside you. He moves his hips lazily drawing out your need as long as possible; you grow desperate as he denies your hips to move or your fingers to touch your neglected clit.

"That's a good bonnie…taking every bit o' me. Miss me dinnae ye?"

"Fuck…yes!"

"Miss feelin' this full?" He teases.

"J-johnny come on…please."

"Need to cum lass? Need to feel all o' me?"

"Yes!"

"Ah, what a good girl…then take it all."

Johnny pushes your hips down as he thrusts up into you making you see stars; arching against him you reach an arm back until your fingers tangle into his mohawk yanking on his hair. He growls in your ear as he thrusts harder and faster; using his thighs to keep yours spread as he grunts.

"Touch ye self bonnie wannae see ye cum!"

Your hand never moved so fast in your life; rubbing your clit until you feel the euphoric buildup of him hitting your g-spot matched with your aching clit it was only seconds before you fell off the edge and felt your pussy pulse on his dick as you came. Groans of his name fall from your lips as you spasm; Johnny was not far behind you as he pounded into you until he buried himself as deep as he could. Feeling like jello you felt like you were glued to his skin before you giggle to yourself.

"So much for staying clean."

"Aye…can always shower again."

"I'm glad you're home Johnny."

"Me too lass."

This routine always worked for your Scot; you preferred not to know what his job all entails but you did question him often about tiny tidbits so you better understand the stresses he would be under whenever he would come home after a long mission. Like what conditions he usually had to deal with while on said missions; and what dangers he could be dealing with in the field but never specifics. You were aware of the team he always worked with, met them a time or two but never really got to know them beyond being acquaintances. You did have Capt. Price's secured line saved to your phone in case of emergencies but that was your only connection to the team. Johnny would talk about his team to you like they were his brothers and you learned he was especially close to a guy he called Ghost. You only knew him as the skull face guy; regardless of the mask or not you can only remember the deep molten chocolate color of his gaze staring at you from time to time. He watched you as you did at times, observing, learning, and reading cues…it unsettled you a lot honestly. But Johnny always assured you that Ghost was a good man and if your Scot respected them so did you. However, you were not expecting Johnny to come home with the mountain of a man after a long mission.

Both men stand outside your door; bloodied, gear tattered, expressions grim and menacing. You almost didn't want to open your door but you knew your Scot needed you, needed his solace he could only get from you. Cautiously you opened the door enough for them to see you yet closed enough you could force it closed if needed.

"Soap? Level?"

"3 Lass. Ghost is a 6."

"Company this time?"

"Please Bonnie…show him?"

You debated with yourself; the thing you had with Johnny was intimate…you didn't know Ghost and you sure as hell didn't know what preferences he had or how rough he would be. Would he be rough? He was huge and could toss you around with little effort…the idea of being pinned down by him weasels into your brain, your body is a traitor…getting heated up by the idea alone. He is Johnny's mate you can't deny him when he needs help. Sighing heavily you open the door the rest of the way until both men are in the foyer and you lock up.

"Alright, you know the drill. I'll say it again…Soap? Level?"

"3."

"Safe word?"

"Johnny."

"Ghost? Level?"

"6"

"Safe word?"

"Simon."

You arch a brow; you've never heard his real name so you're not sure why you are surprised to learn his name is Simon but you like the sound of it. Your arms are crossed over your chest as you eye each man.

"Strip!" You demand.

Johnny leads the way; unbuckling his vest, and holsters, and kicking off his boots before pulling off his t-shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. Ghost is following suit, everything he wears is black like a wraith. You knew enough about the man to know the mask stays. You don't wait for them you simply head right to the bedroom and pull the covers back, you're going to need the space. You kept a locked toy box under the bed; pulling it out you rummage through it until you find what you expect to need, condoms, lube, restraints if need be, and your favorite vibrating wand. You feel their presence enter the room; stopping yourself from looking up at them you busy yourself setting up your tools before you look at Johnny.

"What's off the table?" You ask.

"He's like me Bonnie just…stronger."

"You'll mediate then?"

"Of course lass…been thinking of stuffing that arse for months. Be watching over ye back."

Goosebumps run over you from head to toe; so Ghost would be the one you ride…that idea is enticing. Your mind starts to wander down a rabbit hole of all the ways you could be had by the two men, making your tongue feel thick in your mouth as you nearly drool at the idea. No, you have a task at hand. Clearing your throat you fall back into your role.

"Ghost sit up against the headboard, and use the pillows to cushion your back in an almost lounging position. Soap grab towels and a washcloth."

You watch as Ghost towers over you; he stares down into your eyes like he's getting a read on you. You don't falter and keep his eye contact waiting for him to follow your order; emotions are swimming in his eyes you can't exactly place but you are not his therapist you are just there to offer him stability and a release. Whatever he was looking for he must have found it because he walks to the bed and gets settled like you told him to; his large frame nearly takes up most of the bed, it would be comical with anyone else but with Ghost, it was just downright intimidating. He wore his black boxer briefs still as did Johnny but even that didn't hide the thick monster he was sporting, you were going to feel the stretch for sure and it made you clench on nothing even thinking about it. Johnny returned with the towels and washcloth you asked for putting them down on a nightstand.

"Take it off Soap. Then help Ghost get more…comfortable." You order.

You watch as your Scot shimmies his briefs off and lets them fall to the floor; allowing your eyes to feast on the thick, needy, length you've been missing for three months. Your mouth waters just looking at it, you'll need to taste him another time right now you have other things to attend to. Johnny gets on the bed with Ghost.

"Sorry LT these gotta go."

Johnny tugs the briefs and Ghost lifts his hips reluctantly allowing him to pull them down his legs. Your jaw nearly drops; Ghost is hard, thick, and longer than average…you were going to have to work that thing in for sure. Grabbing a hair clip you twist up your hair getting down to business; lifting your t-shirt over your head you feel your body sway as you feel their eyes on you, slipping your underwear down your legs as slow as you can to tease them further only adding to your fun. Crawling on the bed you swing a leg over Ghost's lap so you straddle his thighs; his chest is heaving with his quick breathing, and he's holding himself back you can see the strain in his posture, the veins in his arms as he clenches his fists. Damn, he's pure testosterone and just man you have to pause a moment to get yourself centered.

"Soap. Work me up."

"Bonnie?"

"Put on a show Soap. Give Ghost here a preview." You tease.

Johnny smirks to himself as he gives you a quick 'aye lass' before he grabs your wand along with a condom and lube. He gets behind you until your back is pulled flush to his front; he lets his hands roam over your body bringing soft sighs from your lips, his fingers travel down to your clit tapping it to tease you further, and soft mewls from you fill the room. Your gaze is locked on Ghost; he's watching everything so intently it makes you preen under his gaze, your hips moving on their accord dancing for him. Johnny fires up the wand and presses it against your clit making you moan and throw your head back against his shoulder. Your scot is quick to take advantage and nip at your neck and shoulder, he ushers you closer to Ghost until you are right over his dick. Ghost's thick thighs make you spread your legs farther to accommodate him, licking your palm you grab a hold of him and slowly start to stroke him. A hissed breath escapes him. You line yourself up with him; taking the wand from Johnny you continue to tease yourself as you let your slick get all over Ghost's dick. Johnny was working behind you; his excitement made him a bit clumsy but you didn't mind until you felt the cold lube on your ass that is. You jumped a bit but soon relaxed as you felt his fingers massage it around your ass before he pressed a finger inside making you keen. Using Ghost's shoulder for support with your free hand you relaxed before opening up more to Johnny's fingers, he adds a second finger and stretches you open before removing them.

"Ready. "

"Good. Ghost…give it to me."

The ghost moved so quickly like an unleashed tiger you couldn't have been prepared, he grabs your hips pulling you closer, he lines up with you and pulls you down on his dick, working himself a little at a time into your tight heat, groans and grunts falling from him. Once you were nearly fully seated on him; Soap stops him so he can get in your ass. You lock eyes with Ghost as you feel your scot steal your wand to press it against your clit as he eases his tip into your ass; never breaking contact with Ghost you moan as you feel yourself be filled with your scot.

"I'm good." he croaks.

"Good. Alright Ghost show me what you got." You tease.

Anger flares in his eyes; grip tightening on your hips and before you know it he is lifting you up only to slam you back down on his dick until fully seated, the burn of the stretch mixed with the absolute euphoria you feel as he hits your cervix leaves you breathless. You feel so full; the motion of both men in and out leaves you mindless, you can only focus on the sensation as they slam into you.

"Fuck lass…so fuckin tight! Missed me filling up this arse did ye? Taking me like a champ!." Soap groans out.

"Shit. Feels good."

"Here that LT? She feels good…blow her mind will ye?"

Ghost growls; he yanks his mask up to his nose before gripping your neck and pulling you to his lips, the kiss is rough but you love it. You wrap your arms around his neck and dig your nails into his shoulders as you ride him; he's thrusting up into you and the feeling of Soap groping your breast has you feeling sensitive. Ghost tastes like bourbon and spices, you could get addicted to him quickly if you're not careful. Johnny is matching pace with Ghost, he nips and kisses your back as he fucks up into you, his thighs burn but he could care less he just wants to fill you up with his cum and that alone is enough to nearly make him scream.

"Fuck Bonnie….such a good fucking girl!"

"M-more!" you demand.

Soap kicks up his pace and Ghost bites your bottom lip as he plants his feet on the mattress so he can drive up into your sopping pussy battering your cervix like a caveman, your moans like music to his ears as he draws closer and closer to his end. Soap comes first with an earth-shattering pace that leaves you moaning against Ghost's neck, when Soap pulls out and falls to the mattress spent a glint sparks in Ghost's eyes. He rolls over tossing you on the mattress as he pulls your hips up to his level so he can shove himself into you as deep as possible, you scream out as he hits every spot imaginable and his thumb rubs circles over your clit making you ascend to orbit with how quick your orgasm takes hold of you leaving you breathless. His pace is ruthless as he slams into you until his hips shutter and he's growling low in his chest as he cums unbothered to pull out, he fills you so much so you feel it seeping past him down your thighs. He falls to you on the mattress still mindful to keep some of his weight off of you.

"S-simon," he whispers.

"Aye…Johnny."

"Welcome back." You smirk.

You feel like you should be boneless; you don't have the strength to move your limbs yet, everything feels warm and fuzzy like you're coming down from a high. Johnny is the first to move; he grabs the washcloth and starts to wipe you down pausing as he notices the mess Ghost has made of you.

"Hey, Lt…ye filled her up didn't ye?"

Simon moves enough off of you to look where is it Soap is talking about; Johnny is just having fun now teasing you. He pulls one of your legs wider so they both can see the cum leaking out of you, your hands are already covering your face in embarrassment. Rough callused fingers slip through your folds collecting the cum and shoving it back inside only to watch it seep out again. You watch how Simon is transfixed on it, he pushes the cum back in again liking how you keen and writh for him. His fingers are thick and as sensitive as you are after cumming you are sure it wouldn't take long to cum again if he keeps up playing with you.

"Want to fill her up again LT? Give her a taste of Simon instead of Ghost?" Johnny asks with a smirk on his face.

"Please…I need more." You whimper.

Simon doesn't mind on bit; he uses his fingers to bring you to the brink again only to pull his fingers away. You groan in frustration before he rolls you over on your stomach, he straddles your thighs keeping your legs together, pulling your hips up to where he wants you before he is nudging his hard-on against your puffy lips, he bullies his dick back into your sweet slickness making you both moan. Simon starts slow before he starts to piston his hips against your ass; punishing grip on your hip and lower back as he dives in over and over again, his thick head jackhammering your g-spot making you scream for him like a nymph. You cum on him before you can warn him causing you to squirt on him, you twitch as you feel him pick up his pace and growl in your ear as he fills you up again.

"Such a good fucking girl!"

You knew you were done for; you would forever be replaying that in your head now with his gravelly voice thick with lust. Simon was the one to insist on cleaning you up before himself and Johnny. Your scot got water and made sure you were good. On shaky arms, you sit up and lean against a pile of pillows on the headboard.

"That was incredible." You confess.

"Aye, that was pretty amazing."

Simon shocked you one step further; he was sitting on the edge of the bed his elbows on his knees, and he was still sweating quite a bit. He pulled off his mask altogether leaving him open for you to see; he was blond! You didn't expect that; his hair was a bit outgrown but you could tell at one point he kept his hair high and tight in style, his features were sharp edges and scars but you found them quite attractive. So this was Simon…the man behind the Ghost. He looks over his shoulder at you; there is unease in him and you give him a soft smile…you aren't afraid of him and you motion to him to come to you. He's hesitant for a moment before he lays down next to you and you pull on his arm to have him cuddle up to you. Johnny is quick to be your big spoon and cover you with the blankets before he quips.

"Lt I think ye been adopted."

"I'm open to you staying a part of us if you want it?" You confess.

"Yea Lt what do you say?"

"Fucking hell…alright."

[ghiblisprite88]

Just saw Bee Keeper

Does anyone else think that Jason Statham would be an amazing Simon Riley? He was amazing in Bee Keeper and I got full-on Ghost vibes I would not accept anyone else as Ghost in a casting for a movie of Call of Duty. Anyone Agree?

[ghiblisprite88]

4

4

Sun shining through the windows nearly blind you as you wake, your body achy but satisfied. Images of the night spilling back into your mind; it was definitely not how you thought this contract was going to start out. But its not like you didnt enjoy it, when was the last time you had a lover anyway? Nearly a year? Far too long honestly…so what if you slept with a demon, atleast he could perform far better than most men you knew. Lost in your thoughts you roll over away from the sun to maybe drift off again; only to be met with Junkook’s slumbering face. Long lashes brushing his cheeks, hair tousled from your fingers most likely, lips parted just enough for you to notice his teeth behind them that gave him an oddly adorable bunny look. What even was this man? Sinful in the dark but boyfriend adorable in the sun? This doesn’t make sense to you. Your blankets were a tangled mess around you both, part of it wrapped around one of his legs draping over his ass and lower back over to you who is now cuddled in it like a cloak to shield you from your random thoughts. Should you try to sneak away to freshen yourself up? Do you make a demon breakfast? Sighing to yourself you just look at him in wonder; his hair was falling over his forehead and you couldn't stop yourself from moving it away with your fingertips. He began to stir…lifting his head up and looking around with bleary eyes not registering where he was until his eyes landed on you. 

“Hey” he husks. 

“Hey to you too.” You smirk. 

Jungkook was laying on his stomach; stretching out his limbs with a contented groan he takes in his surroundings again. He must have passed out again after the shower with you, he doesn’t particularly remember going to bed or how he even got to the bed honestly. He had an odd feeling though like he was drunk…if this was how humans felt after drinking he can understand why they continue to do so. His blood was humming, his body slow and sluggish, his thoughts not stringing together as well as he would like. 

“Would you like some coffee?” you ask.

Jungkook watches as you slip out from under the covers only to grab an extra large t-shirt from off the floor and slip it over your head. The hem falling just under your ass giving him a teasing view as you moved. All he could do was grunt an agreement. You leave him to get started on coffee while he woke up further and snapped his fingers to dress himself instead of flashing everything. He emerges from your room in a large hoodie and sweats his hair still a touseled mess. How can a creature have such duality? Finishing the coffee you join a dazed Jungkook on your sofa offering him a steamy mug of go-go juice. 

“What happened after the shower?” He asks after his first sip.

“You were somewhere else…I have seen drunks and I have seen folks higher than a kite. You sir were so high I’m pretty sure you fell into wonderland with alice. I had to guide you back to my bed and push you down. Before i could even finish my routine in the bathroom you were passed out hard.” You smile at the memory.

Groaning Jungkook carded a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Just great he wanted to try to ease into this contract and he has to go act like a fledgling on his first meal! Embarrassed was to kind for the shame rolling through him at the moment. 

“Can’t say I wasn’t feeling that way too. I felt like i was electrified, my skin was buzzing and everything seemed hyper detailed to me. Once I laid down I felt like a veil was put over my eyes I passed out too.” You confessed.

“Atleast it seems the power between us was equal then. This is going to be a learning curve.” Mumbled Jungkook into his mug.

It was too early for you to really care about it at that moment, you were more so looking over your house which was well…a disaster. Furniture was strewn about the room, some broken and splintered, every light in the house was busted and you fried your microwave. Welp looks like you will have to hit up the hardware store later, that microwave needed to be replaced anyways. Why was there a power surge between you two like that anyways? 

“So um…what happened to my livingroom here…why did that happen?” You ask.

Jungkook looked around your home cataloging the damage, each broken piece making him feel more guilty the farther he looked. Not that he anticipated something like that would happen from a kiss no less, he still felt slightly responsible. 

“That is unusual from my experiences, there is an imbalance of power taking place here. Excessive even. I will replace all that has been damaged.”

“NO! I mean you don’t need to go that far. I did part of the damage too. Don’t worry about it.” You explain.

A quiet fell between you two, instead of looking at eachother it seemed better to look at the damage instead. You were already making a list of what you needed to do to clean up the mess. Clearing his throat; Jungkook got up collecting your empty mug before disappearing into your kitchen to rinse them out in the sink. 

“For now until I can further figure out how this is going to work; let me handle the clean ups. I mean what is the point of having so many repenting souls at my disposal if not to put them to work?”

The idea of having strangers cleaning your house had you a bit on edge, you were very particular about your herbs and crystals, everything had to be just so to calm your mind. Hearing a crack of noise you snap your attention to the demon in your kitchen. Orbs of fire appeared and started to dart around your house, you could see things being picked up on their own almost like reverting to normal. You could not see a form to these orbs…they must be the souls themselves he was referring to. Stunned on your couch it was like your house was transforming before your eyes with the lights being restored one by one. 

Jungkook reappeared in your presence again dressed in black ripped jeans, sneakers & vintage van halen t-shirt. His ears adorned in his silver hoops, his lip ring a tease making you bothered, he stood tall before you. Your stomach flipping as you got up from the couch. 

“I guess that’s it for this visit?” You say feeling a bit disappointed he was leaving.

“The demon world never sleeps, I have work to attend to. I will be sure not to make you wait so long again. But if you need me for anything just call me by kissing the mark or calling my name 3 times.”

You chuckle to yourself “like Beetlejuice?”

His lips quirk up “I could ask for worse you know.”

“Right ofcourse big bad demon who passed out twice from euphoria overload. I’m very scared right now can’t you see it?” You smile.

“I’m going to take that as a backhanded way of gratitude for a fantastic night and the power we shared. Brattiness looks good on you in your little shirt, if I didn’t have to go back to work I would devour you again but duty calls.” 

Jungkook’s eyes darken as he said this only making you crave him again, your senses bombarded by memories of the night with him. Each kiss, each caress, each groan, each high he brought you to, and every thrust. He catches your chin and gives you a parting kiss before disappearing before you. Touching your lips you were left in a daze, you were going to be in trouble if you didn’t watch yourself around this man. Going from teasing to seductive drawing you in before you can even brace yourself. This was going to be an interesting adventure.

[ghiblisprite88]

Ecstasy -3

To say you were living with your head in the clouds would be pretty accurate. Since the deal with JK your magic was on a completely different level, no more were you blowing up your couldron, potions were finally turning out as they should and on top of that your magic was stable not shaky or weak. Finally you felt like a full witch. Did you go blabbing your mouth about it to any witches you knew? Yea no; that would be far too much attention put on you and that was the last thing you needed or wanted. Granted its been rumored that if you are part of a coven and link together in a magic circle it helps to stablize magic among all within the coven, but a functioning coven wasn’t very common anymore. Most witches were solo and would only occasionally work with other witches when needed. 

The connection with your spirit guides was stronger as well. Before their voices were faint and you had to really focus to understand what they were saying; now it felt like they were talking right in your ear sometimes loud and clear. One said spirit guide being a very sassy little ol’ soul from the 1930’s named Evelynn who preferred to go by Evie and appeared to be in her 20’s. Although her sass was usually pretty comical she could be abrasive at times making you want to refer to her as Evilynn. Sitting with your herbal tea you used to relax; you sat in your garden watching the breeze brush against your plants, fragrances of flowers lingering in the air. 

“You know darling…this demon you are tied too.” Evie started as she sat by you drinking her own (ghostly) tea. “Do you think he has any friends?”

Snorting to yourself you entertained the idea of her trying to flirt with a demon like JK. Would that even work? Kind of hard if you don’t have any substance no?

“Seeing as how I don’t know him yet I can’t say.” You smirk.

“Oh the way he appeared like a dark horse out of that portal…it would make any sensible woman shiver in delight.” Evie giggled. 

“Oh my god you are terrible. Explain to me why you literally ghosted me right then I thought I was going to die.” 

“I can’t babysit you all the time my dear you have to grow up sometime and solve your own problems. I won’t be around forever I mean when I get bored I might just crossover then what will you do?”

“Psssh what ever you just wanted to be a creeper didn’t you?” You accused

“Well he was quite the sight I must say, perhaps I was just too focused on such a fine creature I forgot my purpose at the moment. I have been dead for some time you know but I still have wants and desires. I most certainly wouldn’t mind tangling up with a man like him anyway.” 

You couldn’t help it you died laughing, ribs aching, abs burning & wiping tears from your eyes. Evie laughed to herself as well; collecting yourself you enjoyed her company as the sun set making her appearance more clear around her silhouette.

“Now be honest dear…this contract you are tied to. When does it begin when it comes to payment? It has been nearly two weeks already has it not since JK was here? Surely you will have to pay up soon.”

“I don’t know. It all happened so fast we didn’t set a schedule or really talk about how things were going to go. But he did say he would start off slow so maybe he’s just bidding his time so as to not frighten me? I don’t know.”

“Well speak of the devil! I don’t think you will have to worry about that very long.” Evie gasped.

Following her line of sight out to your garden you see a billow of smoke appear with a very sinful JK walking out of it with his hair slicked back, ears adorned in silver hoops, the piercings in his eyebrow and lip glinting in the remaining sunsetting light, honeyed skin glowing in the rays. He was dressed more modernly this time, a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows displaying more of his sleeve tattoo, black fitted jeans that greatly show cased his thick thighs and small waist. Completed with black leather shoes. Evie disappeared into thin air leaving you alone to deal with this demon on your own. Taking a sip of your tea for courage you get up to meet him halfway in the garden, a smile playing on his lips as you approach. 

“Hello little witch.” He greets.

“JK. It’s been awhile. What brings you out tonight?” You ask cautiously.

“I have been a bit neglectful haven’t I. After our first meeting it took some…thinking to figure out the best way to approach our trade. More importantly I would like to know how you have been effected?”

“My magic? Beyond expectation…I have never felt this comfortable before. I have been practicing my magic with no issues and certainly better than I had anticipated. Is there something wrong?”

“Oh definitely not. I was directed by an elder that perhaps the trade is offset between us; I wanted to fix that but apparently you are effected just as much as I have been. Would you mind if we went inside?”

Nodding your agreement you lead him into your home; butterflies erupting in your stomach feeing his presence behind you. With your eyes flitting around your home you catalog everything that is left out or cluttered on the counter; thankful your home is presentable you offer if he would like a drink. Settling on a tumbler of whiskey for him and a glass of wine for you; you join him in your living room a decent distance away from him on the sofa. Taking in the vision before you; each movement is being memorized, the act of sipping his whiskey and releasing a content sigh does something to you. You can feel a tug of attraction; the pull of chemistry just being near him. Sipping your wine you try to clear your head. His dark eyes catch yours; there is a silent pause for a moment. 

“The contract we made is a powerful one. Not something I have experienced before…which is saying something. Perhaps planning out the approach to begin our trade is in order. Do you agree?” His voice had a sultry edge to it which was making your mind foggy.

“How would you suggest we start?” 

“Why not start by simply touching? See where it goes.”

Jk sets down his glass; taking yours from your hands to place next to his. Lightly grasping your wrist to draw you closer to him. Flush againt his side he releases your wrist to caress your cheek; you can’t help but lean into it, his skin warm and inviting. Leaning closer to you his lips tease at your ear. 

“You like this feeling don’t you? Your trembling.” 

Shivers roll down your spine, you can hear the smirk in his voice. He doesn’t back away as you expect instead he uses his hand on your cheek to trap your chin and tilt your head so he can have access to your neck. A light touch to just under your ear has goosebumps running along your skin, he kisses your neck delicately…following his own path down the column of your throat, to the junction of your neck and shoulder only to lightly nip you there. Your body cannot help but respond pressing further still against him, a gasp leaving your lips. 

Jungkook is fighting a growing fire within; the pull to touch, devour, seduce & ruin you is building at an alarming rate. He had intended to be a bit more cautious; not a very easy thing for a demon his misceviousness got the better of him. The taste of your skin already had his senses reeling, your soft skin like silk in his hands and the moment you let a gasp escape your lips is when he lost control. Releasing your chin he leans forward only to grab your hips and pull you on to his lap where he could lock you in his arms against his chest. 

“J-JK!” is all you could manage. 

The devilish smirk on his face with his dark eyes had your core tensing; feeling him under you was magical in its own right. His thick powerful thighs supporting you like you were made of air; his heat radiating sturdy chest thumping under your fingertips. He was eager; that you could atleast gather. You should be surprised right? Sitting on the lap of a stranger? But where is that fear? Where is the uncomfortable feeling of being near this stranger? It wasn’t there if anything you felt the need to touch, the need to taste, the need to savor the being under your hands. Was this the appeal of an incubus? Thats right Incubi have powers of seduction or control over their phermones? Who cares that can a problem to solve later. Grabbing his shirt you unbutton it down to just above his jeans, your hands splay across his chest feeling the honey colored skin yourself, digging your nails in slightly as instinct tells you too, a rich deep groan radiates from his chest. Its addicting you need to hear it again. Locking eyes with him you watch as he holds your couch hostage; one hand still on your hip as you venture a hand up to his jaw, tracing it back until your fingers can lace into his hair and pull his head back. Seeing his throat bared; his eyes watching you in anticipation made you feel so powerful you could feel it in the air. 

“Go on little witch.” Jk encourages.

Sure you wanted to get primal and bite his neck, the urge was pretty prevalent but instead you wanted to taste him. Sitting up on your knees you lean above him to bring his lips to yours…it was like falling into the abyss of the sun. Power surged through you both making all the light bulbs shatter in your home, a shock wave emanates from you sending furniture across the room. Your mind was out in the galaxy you were in such a euphoric state; Jk shook under your body, the one hand holding your couch shredding through the fabric, the hand on your hip in a death grip to keep himself grounded. Pulling back for air you can see he is struggling to regain his composure, chest heaving for breath, eyes heavily lidded, eyebrows pinched as he tries to focus on you. 

“What was that?” You ask just as breathless.

“E-Euphoria.”

“Do you feel that everytime?” You question.

“No. That is…the first time.”

“Do you want to stop?” You ask concerned his features hadn’t relaxed yet. 

“I just need a moment. That was unexpected…I’m trying to process it.”

“Then…touch me.” 

Bringing one of his hands up to your cheek you lean into it watching him come down from his high. Which was good; it allowed him to ground himself…he didn’t know how to explain how he felt. The level of euphoria he consumed could feed him for decades; he could feel the magic in the air and as much as he hated how his body was reacting like this was his first meal, feeling you on his lap and touching his skin was torturous in the best way. He was really playing with fire; if he kept going surely he would go insane with an euphoria overdose…should he stop here? No there is more to explore.

“I’m fine…thank you.” He smiles boyishly.

“What happened there?” 

“Lets just say I took on more than I could chew…figuratively.”

A playful smirk played on your lips; you could tell he wasn’t done the dangerous feeling seeping back into his voice, his body. It was exciting feeling his muscles move under you, stuck in his gaze like prey, troubling your lip as you waited for his next move. Only slightly roughly since you seemed to like it that way did Jk pull you against his chest, taking your lips with his and trapping you in a chaotic spiral of lust & need. Losing your grip on what was happening you did know you needed him, grinding against him to translate so. He growled through his chest, bucking his hips against yours making you mewl. Breaking from his grip only for a moment to catch your breath. 

“Not here…room.” You vaguely motion passed the sofa. 

Jungkook takes control of your legs around his waist; hoisting you up with little to no effort, walking through your house in search of your room, your nails digging into his back as his pheromones reak havoc on your senses. Finding your room he all but fell with you onto the bed caging you to the mattress. 

“Last chance little witch…if we go on I cannot promise control. If we stop here I will respect your decision. What will it be?” Seriousness dripped from his voice that commanded your attention. 

Focusing on him in a moment of clarity you give your consent with intention, this was what you wanted to do. Satisfied with your answer; Jk took pleasure in using his brute strength to rip the clothes away from your body like paper. The pure power only building the fire in your core that already threatened to become a whirlwind of primal lust any moment. Jk growled at your body before him served up on the bed just like he had imagined only better, your neediness making your body dance before him searching for release. His hunger to consume and ruin you returned in full force. A snap of his fingers and his clothes disappear before your eyes, leaving you in awe with the sight of his honeyed skin unrestricted down to the hardness you had felt while on his lap. A moan leaves your lips; he was not average at all you nearly worried if he would even fit inside you, yet the temptation to find out won that argument. 

Falling on his knees; Jk crawls up your body until he reaches your core, grabbing your legs only to toss them over his shoulders, locking gazes with you as he sinks down to your core to swipe his tongue from your core to clit enjoying the squeal of want that soared out of your mouth. You had figured he would be skilled he is an incubus after all but even that didn’t prepare you for it. Languid swipes of his tongue teased, while his thumbs spread you open for him to devour. Sucking on your clit until you nearly lost your mind only to pull away and tease your core with his tongue that was suspiciously long. Your fingers had long ago tangled in his hair unsure weather to pull him closer or push him away, his groans only sent vibrations up your spine pushing you closer and closer to the precipice of orgasm. Your toes were curling before you could fathom the momentum of what was to come, screaming his name you came undone on his tongue and he seemed only too eager to devour it. 

Feeling like you were floating on air you watch as Jk sits up wiping his lips with the back of his hand in triumph. You were no fool and could tell he was getting cocky. But who cares when you saw him swipe his fingers through your folds to collect some of your essence to use on his length as he gripped it, stroking it to prepare further for his main course. With butterflies rocketing in your stomach you got ready for what he would want; expecting him to have you move to a certain position or something you were surprised when he instead grabbed one leg to balance on his shoulder. Positioning your other leg to the side while he fit inbetween them. 

“Now that I have you tight as hell lets go.” He smirks. 

He lines up and sinks into you; the stretch around his girth nearly painful but it felt so good, you could feel the ridge around his head sink farther and farther inside you as his length thickened further once you reached the base. He was so far up against your cervix you were surprised he didn’t sink into that too if there was room. The growl that fell from his lips as he bottomed out made you clench so hard on him it neary knocked the breath out of him. Unable to stay still you play with your breasts to get some kind of stimulation going. 

“JK…Move” you plead.

That seemed to motivate the demon; he pulls back his hips and snaps them against you impaling you on his length in the most delicious sense. The feeling of him ramming against the confines of your core had you seeing stars, calling his name and babbling nonsense. You just wanted more and then some using your free leg to push his ass to go deeper, harder until you were starting to see white bursts. Jk was on a high he had never felt before; the power of your walls squeezing down on him making him nearly explode he wanted to feel that with you…feel you fall apart on his dick, screaming his name, he wanted to fill you up to the brim just destroy you on the inside marking you as his. He wanted it so badly he immediately used his thumb to rub your clit in cirlcles enticing a delicious scream of his name from you, pumping into you harder and faster until he could feel your walls start to twitch and your body shudder as you got closer. He lost it when he saw your back bow off the mattress crushing him with your walls a groan of your name falling from his lips as a tidal wave of euphoria crashed over him drowning him in darkness. Who knows how long he was there time was meaningless in this abyss of euphoria, it was only when the soft thumping heartbeat caught his attention did he return to reality. 

Opening his eyes he was laying on your chest confused on how he got there. Trying to move; his limbs felt numb. Never had he felt like this, it was concerning yet you seemed fine and didn’t mind his weight atop you. Your fingers were combing through his hair, it felt nice, comforting even so he continued to lay there until feeling would return to his limbs. 

“What happened?” He croaks. 

“You blacked out.” a slight chuckle mixes in with your statement.

“Well that’s not very impressive for a demon.” He groans. 

You laugh lightly as you adjust the pillow better under your head. Amused at a demon being embarrassed from passing out from an orgasm…an orgasm you gave him by the way. You were expecting to feel awkward after sleeping with this demon yet you were comfortable in your skin, perhaps it was from his pheromones still in your system. Feeling his weight on you felt calming and comfortable. Jk finally regained enough feeling in his body to roll off yours on to his back to stare at the ceiling fan which was giving off a slight breeze. 

“I think I almost died.” Jk deadpans. 

“What?” You burst in laughter.

“The overload of euphoria…I was so lost in my headspace that I was sure I was going to go insane.” He confesses.

“Is that possible?” You grow concerned.

“In humans yes absolutely. In demons? Theoretically its possible. I have never been that far before to find out. But it was worth it…im stuffed.” Jk explains rubbing his stomach.

Again you laugh; shaking your head you roll to the edge of the bed and with wobbly legs that made you feel like bambi you venture to your bathroom to clean up. Stepping under the hot water to wash away your activities you relaxed into the stream. Once you were starting to shampoo did you feel his warm body behind you; the touch of a loofah caressing your skin washing away the filth yet stirring up another fire inside you. The strong chest that pressed against your back as he helped to clean your body from head to toe. Nipping the shell of your ear you feel Jk push you forward against the shower wall. 

“I need dessert.” He demands.

Using his foot to widen your stance he pulls your hips back to him only so he could line up and push up into you again. The friction making both of you hiss; his approach this time was softer, slower but just as deep as before. Building the fire between you both slowly until you were clawing at the tile on the wall asking, begging for release. The pleading in your voice the last straw needed for Jk to ram into you harshly running toward that edge to fall over in euphoria again. You can feel the coil within you getting tighter and tighter until you scream. 

“There! Right there! JUNGKOOOK!”

All Jk could do was release a roar that rumbled the walls around you as he came undone. Spent yet again he leans against the wall with you ragged breath passing by you ear. The cool tile the only thing keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. 

“You are going to be the death of me,” Jk confesses.

[ghiblisprite88]

Masterlist

Ecstasy - Demon JKxY/N Young Witch

1, 2, 3, 4

[ghiblisprite88]

Ecstasy 2

Jungkook was buzzing as he walked out of the portal back into the house he shared with his six kin. Namjoon walking by with a book was the first to notice his dazed condition, curiosity got the best of him. What could have been the summons?

“Jk? What happened?” his deep voice bringing the younger out of his thoughts.

“I signed a contract and I think I fucked up royaly.” 

“Explain?”

Jungkook walked with Namjoon to their sitting room. Their home wasn’t in “Hell” more like a parallel dimension running along earth’s. There dimension was kind of a mirror of earth’s more like the colors are inverted but the rest is normal looking things like grass, trees, houses, streets, even their house had the normal amenities. Jungkook plops down on to the couch as Namjoon takes an adjacent chair. 

“I was summoned by a young witch. We agreed on a contract where I help her channel her magic and I get euphoria from her.”

“Ok so where is the problem?”

“I sealed the deal with a kiss as you do and about got knocked on my ass. It didn’t stay just a peck or rather we got carried away and the first taste of her euphoria felt like 50 women just from a kiss! I’m gunna go insane if I go any further.” Jungkook let his head fall back against the couch in defeat.

“So what I hear is that her magic is horrible but her sensuality is immense?”

“YES!”

“Have you even tested if what you have done for her works yet? Alot of the time what you put in is also what you get out perhaps you are giving a lot thus she returns in kind. You should check in with your witch to see how the deal is balanced between you both. Is she atleast worth the summons?” 

“Yes…that makes it even harder to pace myself because of the chemistry. What if I over do it and go insane. I’m used to women going insane not incubui. It’s an indefinite deal too.”

“Oh…yea you messed up.”

It did not take long for the others to come along and inquire about it as well and Namjoon took a sick joy in telling them all about it. The jabs and teasing battered his ego a bit but Jungkook was used to it being the youngest out of the seven. When the jabs triggered his temper he left his hyena laughing brothers to storm to his room. Once in his solace he stripped off his attire only to slip into the hottest shower he could tolerate. Attempting to use the water to clear his mind but it didn’t last long; replaying the events in his head Jungkook got lost in the thought of how you smelled…like a faint fragrance of vanilla, how soft your skin was under his finger tips, how your shorts and t-shirt were the biggest tease to his senses he’s had in ages, the kiss…his stomach knotted just thinking about it. The first taste of euphoria as the kiss deepened blew his mind, ribbons of if it engulfing his mind turning his body into a primal machine starved to dive in to you, he had never had something so strong yet smooth in his life. If he wasn’t careful he would get addicted and would not be able to recover. His mind wandered; what would your skin feel like against his? What would your moans sound like as he coaxed them out of you? How would your body torture his own? What kind of lover were you? Groaning at his own body betraying him he had little control over the need to feel something. 

Water pouring down over his head and shoulders, rivelets cascading down his honey colored skin over toned muscles down to the angry length of his begging to be stroked. Biting his bottom lip to keep his moan contained as best he could; Jungkook took hold of length hissing at the touch, sensitivity a bit much still buzzing from your sensuality. Eyes clenched shut he pictured you splayed out for him on his bed, your body bare to his hunger, your curves and beautiful skin nearly enough to invoke envy from Aphrodite. To see you squirm on his sheets waiting for him, begging for him had Jungkook groaning as he stroked his length chasing a high he could only hope compared to your euphoria. To hear you call his name, to watch your body move as he would sink into you slowly before primal needs took over and he would pound into you until you were screaming his name for the gods to hear. He could only imagine how your body would feel, how your walls would strangle and milk him for all he was worth… the thought of filling you with his seed only fueled his needs. Stroking his length just the way he needed, sometimes fast, sometimes focused just on his head or tighter at the base, all pulled growls and moans from him. Feeling the release building, Jungkook could barely hold on as it erupted hitting the wall.

"Fuck!"

Breathing heavily using the wall to hold his body up; the high tingling over his skin and down his spine. Sighing and staring at his mess; embarrassment tinged his cheeks. Using the shower head to clean off the wall before finishing and stepping out to wrap a towel around his hips. Steam filled his bathroom; wiping a hand over the mirror to remove the fog he could only stare at his reflection. What was he going to do? Your touch was like a brand on him; he was still affected even now. Shaking his head he finished his routine only to fall on his bed face first. He was screwed. Already he was thinking of how he was going to approach you during this contract, would he be able to control himself? Half demon or not the need incubi have for sensuality is insatiable, never in a million years did he think he would be overwhelmed by one woman. Sure he had done some shady acts with eros mostly orgy parties with nymphs but that was still not even close to this feeling. Frustrated with himself he growled and forced himself to sleep, the events of everything left a wave of exhaustion on him. For now, it can be tomorrow Jungkook's problem. 

[ghiblisprite88]

Ecstasy

It's spooky season!

Incubus jk x witch y/n

Dirtiness bound to be abundant so if under 18...scram.

*Poof* 

“Dammit! Why can’t I get this!” 

To say your day was not going your way was an understatement. As a young witch you were doing your best to strengthen your skills and build your intentions. You just passed your studying of one year and a day; but to say you were full fledged was well…you’ll get there surely you will. Potions were the absolute bain to your practice. Should be simple right? You read the ingredients needed and in what amounts, follow the instructions on how to combine them and boom your done right? No your’s go poof and smoke instead of changing color as they should or glisten like they should. You have the right intentions as you do these potions so why won’t it work? Groaning in disappointment you slump down into your chair by the table you were using. 

Flipping through your grimiore; you thumbed through all your notes giving up on trying to complete your potion. You have notes from other witches who had spells they had completed and shared. Some were daily things like spells to apply glamour to your face, protect your clothing from stains or tears when worn. The more difficult ones were for finding familiars or darker things. Would having a familiar or creature help you improve your magic? You had entertained the idea of like a cute little black cat to keep you company or a gorgeous owl to keep an eye on the house from ill intentions. Although you had entertained the idea of working with something darker…your magic did have tendencies that were dark in nature but you never crossed that line of going into dark magic nor did you plan to. Your magic was strictly for helping people and doing good. But you were looking at the spell to call a familiar or creature to you; that didn’t mean you got to choose what appeared. You got what you got.

No...not right now. You closed the book and continued on with your day doing your best not to give too much thought to summoning something. Your spirit guides seemed to think it wasn’t a bad idea they would know better than you if it were too dangerous for you to handle. Out in your garden you said hello to the spirits in the plants enjoying their company. Picking some herbs you needed to restock, snacking on some of the vegetables as you went before going back in to start dinner. It was when you were sipping on wine relaxing that your mind circled back to the spell. Honestly it wouldn’t hurt to have help with your magic right? Plus living on your own it got quiet and lonely, you can’t exactly hug your spirit guides now could you? 

“Eh hell why not! What could go wrong? I get stuck with a frog?” you laugh to yourself. 

Setting up your cauldron over the fire place you started to grab the ingredients you would need; you were pretty surprised you had everything it called for right in your kitchen. Once the cauldron was hot enough you set it on it’s stand and started to drop in your ingredients one by one carefully keeping and eye on the color. So far so good. When you got down to the last ingredient you raised a brow…hair? Your hair? Mmmmk so you grabbed your scissors and took a lock from your lower layers so it wouldnt be noticeable. Clipping off a good chuck you dropped it in to the cauldron. Dark purple smoke floated out of it followed by a new energy flowing through your house…the air was buzzing with it. All the candles you had for light snuffed out at once even the fire in the hearth. Billowing smoke filled the darkness you were sure you failed again…rubbing an annoyed hand down your face you were about to groan until you could hear steps on the wooden floors heavy steps. Peeking between your fingers you looked into the darkness. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you could see a form walked towards you a very tall form definitely not a cat or owl. Wine colored red eyes glowed as they approached you; goosebumps ran down your body as the creature got closer and closer. 

“Well if it isn’t a little witch.” A sultry voice spoke out of the darkness.

Instinctively you backed up until your back met the countertop of your kitchen; what have you done! Who is this? What is this? Your spirit guides were oddly vacant you couldn't ask for help at all. Fear started to crawl up your throat. The creature walked out of the smoke stepping into a single beam of moon light coming in from the window and you were not prepared. Before you stood a man, rounded eyes still glowing, rather attractive features with small imperfections here and there and a scar on his left cheek. He stood but a foot away from you now, his energy nearly smothering your own, he was so tall you had to tilt your head back to see his face properly. He wore normal clothing like humans would, actually it was a rather sleek shirt, vest, dress pants and leather shoes. Much better than your shorts and t-shirt you were lounging in for the evening. He had piercings! Silver actually; one ring in his eyebrow and one in his bottom lip, you watched as he chuckled to himself and pushed his hair back revealing tattoos all over his hand disappearing into the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Cat got your tongue witch?” his voice teased.

Gulping you tried to gather your wits. You did this now you gotta deal with it. Taking a deep breath you stared into the eyes of this creature; he most certainly was not human but you couldn’t pinpoint what he was at the moment. 

“Um…hello.” You clear your throat. “I’m am y/n and you are?”

“Hmm y/n.” His voice rolled your name making shivers crawl up your spine. “My name is a bit complicated although I have gone by Jungkook before or rather JK your choice. I assume I was summoned for a purpose?” He smirked.

Purpose? Oh right! You felt kind of stupid now that he was standing there because well you were expecting an animal not a man! Ok chill out you got this. 

“Correct…I had used a summoning spell to call for a familiar or creature to help me with my magic. So here you are?”

“Ah a contract then. That seems interesting. What help do you need for your magic?”

“Ok I won’t lie to you…I suck. I can do just about everything kind of but not confidently. I need a familiar to help channel my magic so I can gain better skills and not suck. You said contract? What does that mean? Actually can I ask what are you?”

“JK” stepped back to lean against your table as he thought about how to answer your questions. It was entertaining to him that you didn’t even mean to and summoned him…a demon. When the summons came he had expected something far different not a freshly made witch. It’s not like you were nothing nice to look at, he did appreciate the creamy smooth skin that was exposed on your legs, shorts that fit your curves quite well might he add, the shirt you wore was short enough to show a sliver of your stomach teasing him with glimpses of skin. He did crave the touch of skin after so long. When was his last contract? 1,000 or 2,000 years ago? He was surely out of practice.

“Honesty is appreciated little witch. I must admit I am no familiar…you my dear summoned a demon. So yes a contract is needed in order to work together. I can help you with your magic that is no problem however the price for my assistance may not be what you are looking for. I am an incubus.” He smiles slight fangs flashing in the light of the moon.

I-incubus? Like sex addict demon incubus? What did you do? If you form a contract with him then you are surely to die no? If you remember right the more a incubus feeds from the same victim their health deteroriates and eventually the woman dies. You didn’t want that you just wanted some help with your magic. 

“Your thoughts are on your face.” The demon chuckles. “Rest easy I am only part incubus; a child of an incubus & human. I do not consume life force rather something far more delicious…euphoria. That is the best meal for a demon like me.” His eyes darken as he speaks.

Euphoria like…from…oh. Well that doesn’t sound life threatening for starters and you were not appreciating how the idea had images flashing through your mind of different scenarios doing the deed. Your skin felt like it was heating up. 

“So to clarify I would not end up dead?” You inquire.

“Physically no. Although I cannot guarantee your mind some women get locked in a headspace caused by euphoria and struggle to return. You being a fresh witch…perhaps starting slow would be better. I do not appreciate fast food.” 

“Before I agree to anything I would like to determine limits.”

“That seems fair enough…what do you desire?”

“I have never done this before obviously so patience would be appreciated. If I agree to a contract how long would that contract last?”

“Technically it can last as long as you wish. To sever the contract both parties need to agree however. I can promise I will not cause you harm, what I do will entirely be your choice, I cannot force euphoria out of you it must be real for me to consume. One thing you will need to know…I will have to mark you to bind this contract. If any other demon attacks you or any creature for that matter they will know you are my witch and will suffer aggression as I see fit.”

“Mark me how?” You raise a brow.

“A demon’s mark is much like human’s tattoos. I small incantation and its done no pain.” 

“Ok that seems easy enough. What are your limits with this?”

“I have yet to reach a limit young witch, demons are rather depraved beings. For now i have none.” 

“Mmmmk noted. What about…the term of this contract I mean do you even age? I can’t imagine being an old lady while you get to stay well…like this.” 

Jk laughed heartily. “That is not a problem, the contract is a binding one that includes the term so if it is indefinite then neither of us will age. If that is far too long for you than you can set a specific time frame. Although I doubt you have much to worry about witches live hundreds to thousands of years on their own.”

“Call me vain but I don’t want to be an old bag. Can you really help me with my magic?”

“That I most certainly can do. You may be giving me euphoria for my needs and in return I will work much like your crystals to help you regulate your magic output. Question is are we going to make a deal or not?” His sultry voice was making your hair stand up. 

His presence was rather large you could feel it press against your own everywhere. But if he is actually able to help you hone in on your magic would it really be that bad to give in? If it has to be real euphoria it would mean he would have to produce it out of you with his actions right? The ideas running through your mind made your ears and cheeks burn. Ugh fine you have had enough of being a crappy witch you needed to be better and you needed to be more.

“Alright Jungkook? I agree to be in a contract with you until we both decided to sever it how does that sound? I agree to provide you with Euphoria if you can provide me with regulating my magic.” You spoke calmly even though you weren’t.

“Deal y/n. I too agree to be in a contract with you until we both decide to sever it. I will provide you with my skills to regulate your magic as long as you provide me with authentic euphoria.” Jungkook grinned. 

His smile was so boyish it threw you off guard for a moment. A document appeared out of smoke he created; he signed his name before passing it to you for your signature. Grabbing a pen you signed it with bated breath you were actually doing this. Handing the document back to him it disappeared into smoke just like it appeared. 

“Now that the tedious part is done lets move to the far more interesting part of sealing our contract.” He smirked.

All you could do was watch him move it was like you were transfixed or just nervous out of your mind. As he stepped back up to you he watched you carefully as his hands slid along your jaw cradling your face as he leaned in your eyes closing on instinct. His lips upon yours were way softer than you were expecting, It was just a simple kiss that morphed in to a deeper one taking you into a storm of emotions it was better than you anticipated making your body press against his gripping his vest making a groan surface out of him that only fueled you to return in kind. Jungkook pulled back out of breath his eyes glowing as he tried to calm himself. You put of euphoria and although that is normal he was not prepared for the strength of it even the small amount it was. You looked dazed as you stared at him.

“That does it.We are sealed together.” Jungkook spoke softly as he pulled your hands from his vest. 

Still holding your hands he showed you a mark now decorating your right hand on the space between your thumb and forefinger a signia of circling smoke. He was right it did look like a tattoo. His left hand had a matching signia like yours.

“ I promised to go slow. As we work together & get to know one another we will work on my needs. Until then witch when you need me kiss the mark I will be there. Have a good night.” His teasing tone returned. 

Before your eyes he disappeared. Your hands still tingling from his touch, your lips still tingling from his…your stomach was doing flips did you really just do that? He kissed you…you kissed him and damn it was good addicting even. The way he looked when he pulled back his eyes hooded, his breaths slightly labored as he collected himself. He was affected too not just you. Your hands shot up to your cheeks as exhilerating panic took over…he was very attractive you couldn’t lie and the reality that your contract would involve him pulling euphoria from you made you jittery. Your mind was taken up by images of what that would entail, would it be more kissing like now or more advanced physical methods. Yes you squealed like a school girl for a moment before grabbing your wine and downing it to calm down. Holy shit you were in for it now. 

An idea popped in your head…your eyes fell on the failed potion you started earlier in the day. Would it be possible? Carefully you started a new one…precise just like before. Just as you added the last ingredient instead of smoke it turned blue like it was supposed to. Holy fuck! You sat in your chair stunned. It was just a kiss…how?

[ghiblisprite88]

I miss lmlam yoongs like i would a friend

This is the cutest ask I’ve ever received and made me smile in these dark times

[ghiblisprite88]

Some one restrain me

This new album has been an incredible listen! Every new track immediately showcased new methods and tones. I am just in awe and couldn’t be more proud of these kings it was well worth the wait. That is all. 

[ghiblisprite88]

Bring it I'm friends for you not your preferences

Reblog if you’d be okay if your friend came out as transgender

let’s see how many transphobics we can weed out

[ghiblisprite88]

#darkblue #pisces #spring

Reblog with your eye color, zodiac sign and favorite season.

green, gemini, winter

[ghiblisprite88]

This is for everyone follower or not.

if you read this you should tag someone you love, to let them know you love them! And too make their day better