#THIS HAS OCCUPIED MY MIND FOR THE ENTIRE DAY

[welcometoteyvat]

god shaped hole but diluven

[kamitv]

▷ Premature

Sypnosis . How they react to getting caught jerking off/How they jerk off when you’re not around. / Pairings . (Separate) Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Geto Suguru x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader, & Nanami Kento x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, masturbation, pervertedness, praise, needy men, filth, dirty talk, non-curse au, degrading, established relationships etc. / wc . 5.5k

A/N: not proofread in the slightest— I apologize in advance for the errors. This is a mix of two requests; one from my lovely 👍anon; If it's not too much trouble, would you take a request for how JJK men jack it to reader? To a picture, their thoughts, or maybe reader asks them perhaps? & jjk men getting caught jerking off [MDNI]

★ Toji Fushiguro

He’s the kinda guy that you could never be on the phone with past midnight. Why? Cause’ suddenly his voice is getting deeper, his comments are growing more suggestive, and he’s got a hand wrapped around his cock as he gets off to the sound of your voice.

What the hell are you even talking about? He’s got no idea, all he knows is that your soft tone, laced with such a faint sleepiness to it, has his cock aching within his hand.

You wouldn’t even notice he’s jerking off for a while either, not until he groans out your name.

The sound makes your entire body freeze and all you can do is stare at your phone, tipping your head to the side curiously before you tap on your phone to bring the ongoing phone call to the forefront of your screen.

You’d get quiet and he’d get louder, grunting out an all too deep, “Fuck,” That has you smiling to yourself a little. Especially when you hear him grunting as if he were trying to keep his sounds in.

But, your moment of confidence only lasts until the deep baritone of his voice snaps you out of it, “Keep fuckin’ talkin’, doll,” Toji orders and god does he sound sexy like this.

There’s the faintest hint of need in his voice that has you biting your lower lip to hold back the toothy smile trying to present itself on your face. Gulping, “Toji…” You murmur, and your ears don’t miss how he sighs heavily.

On his end, he’s got his legs sprawled out and his head tosses back at the sound of you calling his name, “What?” He’d huff, almost as if what he’s doing hasn’t become rather obvious to you.

Your voice is suddenly closer to the phone and it makes Toji grunt, “You okay over there? Y’sound… busy,” You utter teasingly.

“Mmmh… mhm, m’fine, jus’-, hahh, keep… keep talkin’,” His long pauses and heavy exhales were making you squirm on your end. You could only imagine how he looked right now— big hand wrapped around his cock as he gave himself quick tugs to the sound of your voice.

You start to shift around in your bed and almost forget to respond as you listen closely. Turning your volume up, you could hear almost everything. His sounds became vivid, a messy noise of spit heard as Toji wets his cock up in ways he’s known you to, his hand jerking his dick in quicker pulls due to the slickness of his saliva and precum mixing together.

“Hahhh, fuck,” Toji pants and starts slowing his hand down just so he can speak properly, “Why’d y’stop talkin’? Hm?”

“I uh… I thought I heard something, sorry,” You hum as you fake cluelessness. “Anywho, what was I saying again? Do you remember?”

Ah, you’d decided to test him thinking he wasn’t paying attention at all to what you were discussing earlier. Jokes on you, Toji knows how to multitask (sometimes), “Uh, you were tellin’ me about your day or somethin’,” He hums casually.

“Riight,” You chuckle. An idea pops into your mind and you decide to use his lack of full attention to what you were previously discussing to your advantage, “Well, me and my friends went to this new sweet spot today.”

“Yeah? ‘Nd what else, doll?” Toji sounded so clearly occupied but he was trying his best to just get you to keep talking. Every word that left your lips went straight to his cock.

You grin, “Well, it was pretty hot today so I got lucky they had popsicles! The one I got was suuper big, could’ hardly fit it in my mouth,” You explain.

Was this story true? Not exactly, but when else do you get the opportunity to tease your boyfriend like this?

Toji’s eyes flicker as he processes what the hell you just said to him, his cock twitching at the thought of your lips parting to take something large into your mouth— you knew what the hell you were doing to him and he was starting to pick up on it.

Swallowing thickly, Toji hums, “Oh yeah? Reminds me of a couple of other things that can’t really fit in your mouth…”

“Hm? Like what, Toji?” You murmur innocently.

Your voice had softened by a lot and it drove him crazy. Such a clear false innocence laced into your question had the man picturing your expression. The way you’re probably sitting there with your eyes all wide and curious, batting those pretty lashes of yours like you don’t know what the hell you’re asking him.

Scoffing, “Don’t play dumb, y’know what the hell m’talkin’ about.” Toji drawls out, voice a bit rougher with you.

You ignore his little attitude and let out a giggle, “Do I?”

“Yeah, y’do,” Your boyfriend huffs. His breathing is noticeably heavier and little did you know, he had his head resting back and his eyes on the ceiling as he fisted his cock rapidly, slick sounds masked by his voice every time he spoke.

As if to make his state worse, your voice dips into something more sultry, “I’m really not sure Toji… What else is too big to fit in my mouth? Hm?” You hum.

“Fuck-,” Toji lets out a slight gasp, his breath stuttering for a moment before he grunts, “My cock, baby. Y’know this.”

The way he gave up on getting you to say it first has you smiling, “Mmmh, I dunno Toji,” God you were saying his name too much and it was making his balls ache, “I had your cock down my throat perfectly fine the other day if I recall correctly.”

“Filthy fuckin’ girl,” Toji abruptly rasps out, making you gulp as you felt a throb in your core, “Where’d y’learn to talk like that, huh?”

You snicker, “From my boyfriend who enjoys jerking off to the sound of my voice.”

And just like that, Toji can feel his orgasm approaching— damn you and your slick remarks, you only ever acted like this over the phone. You knew better in person but, he didn’t mind right now.

“Hahh, fuck you,” Toji fires back.

“You want to right now, don’t you?” You were getting confident all of a sudden and he groans before shutting his mouth just to listen to you speak. “Wanna feel my tongue on your cock, huh?”

His hand squeezes onto his cock and a strangled grunt leaves the back of his throat, “Shit-,” Toji’s haw drops a little, “Don’t stop talkin’, m’close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum thinkin’ about fuckin’ my throat, right?” You murmur.

And he definitely was, it’s all he could think about right now. Especially with how bold you were being, how could he not picture you on your knees and taking his cock down your throat as he face fucks you just to teach you a lesson about talking to him like this?

Then you just kept going, “…Or jus’ from me talking? Y’like my voice that much, Toji?” You ask.

He’s on his end just nodding as his brows furrow— when the hell was he this damn needy for you? “Yes, fuck… fuckin’ hell, yes, I fuckin’ love your voice baby,” Toji tells you.

God you wish you could see him right now. You just know he’s sweating, cockhead angry and leaking at your every word, big thighs parted yet jittery as he gets closer and closer.

“C’mon then big guy, cum f’me so you can come over,” Suddenly your tone is aroused and Toji’s squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

“S’late, doll,” He argues.

You tut, “Yeah well listenin’ to you jerk off turned me on so now you’ve gotta come over ‘nd deal with it.”

Some nerve you had. As if you wouldn’t be the one all teary eyed and pouty after a few kisses from him…

Yet, Toji’s not thinking about that right now, mindlessly agreeing just because he needs you right now and his hand is starting not to cut it anymore, “Hahhh, alright-, shit. Whatever the fuck you want, doll. I’ll be over in ten.”

You snicker, “Make it five.”

He swears you’ll be the death of him.

Scoffing, “Needy ass girl… agh… can’t wait ten minutes?”

“You couldn’t wait til’ I got off the phone to jerk off?” You argue.

He’s smirking despite the slight irritation that creeps up on him due to how bratty you were being, “…Shut up.”

You smile, “Come shut me up.”

“Oh I’m about to.”

★ Geto Suguru

Moaning your name as if that’ll cause your hand to be wrapped around his cock instead of your panties— Suguru uses your clothes to get off when you’re not around.

He doesn’t bother to call you or text you. It’s usually late when he gets like this so he just uses the lace panties you “accidentally” left over at his place.

Sometimes he’s got the fabric wrapped around his cock as he jerks off and other times he’s got it pressed up to his nose, inhaling what little of your scent he could get as his hips fuck into the O-shape he’s created with his hand. If he inhales strong enough, he swears he can still smell your pussy and that alone makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fuuuck,” Geto moans unashamed into the air. What’s he gotta hold his voice back for? Even if you were to ever catch him like this, he knows you’re just as much of a perv as he is.

His hand has a strong grip on his base as he gets himself off with your panties. Just thinking about how the fabric clung to your cunt for hours on end has his cock dripping pre onto the floor.

“Fuckin’ miss you, agh,” Suguru would groan thoughtlessly into the air, recalling the last time he had your pussy on his tongue, how sweet how tasted, how addicting you are.

Within said imagination, he doesn’t even realize he’s moving your panties to his mouth, his tongue seeping out and pressing into the fabric as if that’ll give him a taste of you again. Is it the same as sucking on your cunt til’ your legs are shaking? No, of course not. Does it make Geto’s hand milk the fuck out of his cock? Well, yes.

Light and faint whines slip past his lips, “Ha-ahh… taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Geto groans like you’re right there with him.

Shit, he wants you on his tongue again. He can never get enough of it— the way your pussy sloshes all over his mouth every time he eats you out, how you whine his name and beg him for a break, or even the way you get greedy as your orgasm nears and you start bucking your hips against him.

Either way, it’s all he can think about right now. And it doesn’t get any better when his eyes open and looks down at himself, your panties clung tightly in between his teeth as he envisions you below him with a mouth wide and ready for him.

Oh the way you always take his cock down your throat never fails to make his eyes cross. You’d suck on him like your life depended on it, moaning against his shaft whenever he started thrusting into your mouth or whining when he forces your head down some more.

And he’s so close as he thinks about it more— picturing your wet lips parted around his flushed tip, drool slipping out the corner of your mouth, and your tongue slipping against him languidly-

“Suguru?” The sound of your voice makes him moan in surprise before he’s turning his head to look at you.

Even caught in the act, he only gets turned on even more. His brows tense and he pants heavily as his eyes meet yours, quickly noticing the way your gaze dropped down to his achingly hard cock.

You were supposed to be asleep out on his living room couch where he’d left you moments ago but yet, here you were— standing with your eyes all wide and curious, taking careful steps toward the man as you cross your arms, and giving him this look that drives him crazy.

You gulp loudly as you look up to your boyfriend’s face, “Are those my panties in your mouth?”

“M-Mmhm,” Geto hums with an impatient nod of his head.

Your lashes bat at the man before you find yourself standing right in front of him, placing but a single hand on his chest before taking the other and removing the lace from the man’s mouth.

“That’s filthy Sugu,” You whisper carefully.

The way his lips part and how his eyes lower on you, a groan slipping from him due to how close your body was and the way you’d touched him so softly. “Uhuh, I know, baby,” His voice has the faintest shake to it as he mumbles out an answer.

Smiling slightly, you keep your eyes directly up on his despite his hand not stopping on his cock for even a second, “You could’ve woken me up if you needed me, Suguru.” You utter.

He cracks a lazy grin for a moment, “I jus’ needed your panties.”

You frown and your brows tense a bit, “…Pervert.” You whisper, watching how his body twitches in reaction before he’s leaning his face down and closer to yours.

“Mhm,” Geto hums, “Yeahhh, tha’s me, princess. Keep tellin’ me how fuckin’ nasty I am.” Your boyfriend purrs, earning a wide eyed look from you as you gaze up at him in surprise.

You comply, trailing a single finger down along his chest as you tip your head to the side and speak, “You’re filthy Sugu, gettin’ off with my panties… Bet you wanted to get caught like this too.”

“Maybe,” Geto tells you with that awfully cocky grin on his face, “But you’re not any better. I caught you fingerin’ yourself to my voice last week.”

You gulp, “T-That was…”

He’s leaning down past your face and you flinch as his lips make sudden contact with your neck, “Different, huh?” He rasps out, hot breath tickling the side of your neck.

Tense, your hand stops moving along his body and you angle yourself to look down at how aggressively he’s fisting his cock right now, “Yeah…” You murmur, completely distracted by the sight below you.

His hand got faster on his cock, quicker tugs made the longer you stared down at him and cum leaking from his tip as he grunted against your neck.

“Sure it was,” Geto whispers, but his voice is a lot lighter than you expected it to be. “Now are you gonna just stand here and watch me jerk off or are y’gonna get on your knees ‘nd take care of me?” He asks, lifting his face a little to kiss the space below your ear.

You unconsciously lick your lips the longer you stare down at his cock, watching him drip onto the floor and make the slightest mess before you chuckle, “That’s no way to ask, Sugu.”

He scoffs against you but you don’t miss the quietest whine leaving his throat before he speaks, “Funny cause I wasn’t fuckin’ askin’.”

“Oh?” You snicker at your boyfriend before turning your head to meet his gaze, “You’re mean when you get caught in the act…”

He stares you down and resists every neuron in his body that’s telling him to press his lips into yours, “Am I?”

“Mhm, as if you’re not embarrassed,” You tease. God you were driving him crazy— looking at him so longingly, your lips nearly on his, your body warm with how close you were to him and your hand low and near his cock.

Fuck, one more touch from you and he’d be cumming in seconds. “I’m not.” Geto replies to you.

You pull your lower lip into your mouth for a second and his gaze drops, “You sure? Y’know how long I was watchin’ you before I said something?”

“Fuck, how long baby?” He practically mumbles. He needed your touch so badly, you were too close to not be all over him right now and his restraint was waning by the second.

“A few minutes, saw you puttin’ my panties to your nose ‘nd everything,” As you speak, your hands are lifting and his eyes are widening.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he’s forced to stop his hand on his cock before he blows his load too soon, “Yeah?” He breathes.

You nod and inch closer, “Mhm.”

“Bet that got you all hot ‘nd bothered, huh?” Geto whispers, cocking his head to the side before placing a hand to your waist and holding you tenderly, “That’s why you said somethin’ right? Cause y’like watchin’ me like this?”

Your eyes were on his lips now and you’d half-heard everything he just said, shrugging out a little, “Maybe…” In response before your lips are finally on his.

Geto can’t even control the groan that pours out of him while his lips move over yours, tongue slotting into your mouth and hand squeezing onto your waist as if to tell you not to move.

The kiss doesn’t even last that long before he’s letting out a whine as his cockhead brushes against your body, “Fuck-, enough of this teasin’, I need you princess.”

★ Gojo Satoru

You were going to take it upon yourself to ask your husband how he jerks off when you’re not around but instead of answering your text with an explanation like a normal person— he sends you a video.

Unfiltered, less than a second after clicking on the video, you’re met with his glistening cock on your screen. Slicked with spit and precum trailing along his veins, a pretty pink tip twitching for some attention, and a bright flash from his cellphone giving you the perfect view of his lower half.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t squeeze your legs together as soon as you started the video. Then there’s his voice that you hear about five seconds in.

“Wanted to see how I jerk off, huh? Dirty girl,” Oh his tone was low with you, the sound filling your ears as you bat your lashes and gulped. Thank god for your headphones, despite being home alone, because you could hear every little sound. “You’re lucky I was already in the middle of it when you texted, y’know.”

Although he can’t hear you, you scoff, “Slut.”

“Got’ this hard thinkin’ about you,” Gojo whispers suddenly, his slender fingers wrapping around his cock carefully, “I miss you, pretty girl,” His words and the way he’s slowly touching himself for you has your body hot and it’s only been a few seconds.

Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, your eyes narrow on his hand— how tenderly it slides up and up until he reaches his tip, the way his thumb runs in between the slit of his cockhead and he lets out a hiss.

Then his hand lowers and the sound that follows is so wet, “Fuuck, I wish it was you touchin’ me right now. You always make me feel s’good,” Gojo pants unintentionally, “Miss your lips on me too. How long’s it been? A week? Fuckin’ hate leavin’ you for work…”

You chuckle lightly at his moment of rambling but the way his hand picks up in speed ever so slightly has your smile fading and your focus returning. Sometimes you wonder how he even fits inside you— his cock is so long and from his base to his tip, he looks like he’d split you open (he does).

Your thighs are squeezing together again and you’re starting to miss him the more you watch, the vivid and deep sound of Gojo humming your name causing a chill to slip down your spine.

And you swear you were about to get to the best part of the video he’s sent because his hand was moving at a quickened pace but you’re interrupted by an incoming video call from the man in question.

You practically jump out of your skin due to your ringtone before you scramble to answer it.

Batting your eyelashes as the call connects, you swallow hard, “H-Hello-“

“Knowin’ you’re watchin’ that video isn’t enough f’me,” Gojo huffs out— now he’s got the camera propped up for you and you can see most of his body.

His shirt is long gone, same with his sweats, his legs are spread far and wide, hard and throbbing cock standing straight up as his hand tugs at it in needy little pulls. Gojo’s got his head tossed back and you have the clearest view of his sweaty Adam’s apple, a slip of sweat sliding down along his chest.

He’s panting like crazy and his hand is fucking his cock much more aggressively than he was in that video you’d been watching, “Show me somethin’ baby, I fuckin’ need you,” Gojo huffs impatiently as he shifts his head back into place to meet your gaze on his screen.

You gulp, “S-Satoru, I-“

“Please?” He whines so suddenly and it has your pussy throbbing, especially with how he lifts his hips into his hand because of simply looking at your face, “Wanna see somethin’ pretty, show me your pussy, please?”

It's almost embarrassing how fast you move for your needy husband, going to prop your own phone up similar to how he’s done his and then discarding your clothes in a heartbeat.

“Spread yourself apart f’me, baby,” Gojo groans out his instructions and you’re following his every word— parting your legs wider and moving two finds to your cunt to spread your pussy apart for him.

“Mmh, like this, ‘Toru?” You utter with a slightly shaky hand and an embarrassed expression.

You see the way Gojo’s jaw sinks a little and how his brows furrow as he fists his cock faster, almost eagerly, “Juus’ like that, sweetheart-, fuck. I miss bein’ inside you,” Gojo says before tilting his head to really study your cunt, “Look how wet y’re f’me ‘nd I’m not even there, shit.”

You’ve got your pointer and ring finger holding your cunt open and you shift your middle finger to give yourself the slightest bit of relief, “It’s cause of your video..”

“Yeah?” Gojo smiles, “Y’liked watchin’ me jerk off?”

His hand slows, palm steadily traveling down along his shaft as a whine leaves him. Your pretty pussy on full display for him and making his balls twitch. He wanted to be fucking you full of him so badly.

“Uhuh,” Your softer tone hits his ears and Gojo grunts.

“Shiiit,” He breathes out before biting his bottom lip. He’d started to drool without even realizing it and his cock was dripping in cum already, “Look at that pussy leak f’me-, holy fuck.” Your husband moans, “My voice get you like this too?”

You’ve started to tease yourself with merely one finger and you can’t move your eyes away from his needy cock, “M-Mhm…” You hum.

“Aww, baby…” Gojo coos. Then you were slipping two fingers into yourself and trying your best to get off along with him, “Look at your fingers tryin’ t’please you like how I do,” He cracks a smile, “Doesn’t feel the same, does it?”

Shaking your head, “N-No, ‘Toru. I need you.”

“Hahh, need you too baby,” Gojo moans, hand picking back up. The faintest plp plp plp followed his movements as bits of cum dripped from his cockhead and onto the floor, “Look at how fuckin’ hard I am cause of you.” He huffs just before glancing down to himself.

Ah, he was making a mess but he was a bit too dazed with arousal to pay any mind to it right now.

You bite your lip and hum before tipping your head back and shutting your eyes, “Mmmh…”

“M’gonna get home and fuck you til’ we both pass out, I swear.” Gojo huffs. His voice is airy and his hand is getting a bit messy now.

Your lips part and you exhale heavily, “Can’t wait.”

“Yeah? Y’can’t wait huh?” Your husband grunts, practically fucking his cock up into his hand at this point, “Maybe I’ll get ya' pregnant so I have an excuse not t’leave you like this.”

Your legs start to close a little and you moan, “Satoru, m-mgh…”

“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” He groans pornographically into the air, “Wish I was cummin’ inside you, fuckin’ you nice ‘nd full, watchin’ you make a mess on me-, hahh… agh…” His lips quiver a bit as he gets close and he’s panting so hard that the camera is starting to fog up a little.

“T-Toru,” You whine for him— missing him oh so desperately now that you’re nearing your own orgasm.

“Yeah, mhm, m’here baby,” Gojo chants, breath heavy and hand jolting up and down his cock fervently, “C’mon, cum with me. You can do it f’me pretty girl.”

You’re nodding, he’s nodding— both of you are getting there together and whining each other’s names. Gojo’s veins are popping up on his hand with how tightly his gripping onto his cock and his mouth hangs open, eyelids heavy and vision blurring while he moans your name.

“Miss you so fuckin’ much,” Gojo groans finally before he glances to his phone to see you releasing all over your fingers— the sight leads him to cum right then and there with his kegs trembling slightly.

Fuck, he needed to get home soon.

★ Nanami Kento

You were surprised to walk in on your boss jerking off.

“Oh fuck,” Echoed into the air, his voice thick with lust as he hadn’t even noticed you’d entered his office yet.

With the way his desk was, you could see everything. His muscular thighs parted like a damn slut, cock barely tugged out of his slacks, big veiny hand working to bring himself to an orgasm.

Truth be told, it’s your fault he’s like this— his cute lil’ assistant, walking around in those tight ass skirts he’s asked you not to wear thousands of times over again. And yet you do it anyway. Maybe because you know where it gets you with your boss or maybe because you wanted a situation exactly like this.

Sure, he’s your boss but he’s also the same man that fucks you til’ you can’t walk straight whenever you request him to do so.

But this? Well, you’ve never been so aroused by walking in on a man pleasing himself before. It had to be his deep groans of your name or even the size of his cock and how it exceeded the size of his hand, how you could picture your own hands around it and how you know your hands would be so pale in comparison.

Nanami’s got his eyes shut and he’s huffing and puffing through his nose, chest rising and falling rapidly the more he stokes his cock. All he can think about is you and the way you bent over in front of him less than thirty minutes ago.

He had half a mind to call you into his office and tell you to bend over his desk the same way— thinking of fucking your tight cunt til’ you’re making too much noise and he has to shove two thick fingers in your mouth to shut you up.

“Fuuck,” It’s rare you even hear him curse so to hear his mouth so vulgar now has you swallowing hard before you lock his office door with a slight click following.

His eyes bat open and he doesn’t bother stopping because he already knew it was you who’d walked in, you’re the only one who does so without knocking.

“Sir?” You utter gently, making his face twist up in arousal.

“Here, now.” Is all he can grunt out to you.

You’re moving toward him obediently with your panties soaking the closer you get. “Mr.-“

“Kento,“ He utters, “Please, fuck-, just… hahh, say my name, sweetheart.”

“Kento,” You correct in a sultry tone, “I didn’t know you were… occupied in here. What if someone else walked in-“

Nanami rolls his eyes at you and then lets off a scoff, “No one but you would,” He huffs, “Now get on my desk.”

You freeze as you find yourself standing right beside his desk, “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself-, just…” He trails off a little once his eyes meet yours and you watch his lashes flutter while his brows pinch together, “Oh fuck, I need… hah, fuuck.”

You chew on your bottom lip before smirking and stepping past his desk, closer to him, “Need what, Ken? Get it out…” You whisper.

“Damn vixen,” Nanami groans as he tosses his head back.

Glancing down at his cock, you watch as his tip grows a bit white— cum peeping out from his fat cockhead and making you swallow thickly.

You then look back up to his face and start leaning down, placing your hands on the armrests of his chair to keep yourself up before uttering, “Do you want me to touch you?”

His response is instant, “God, yes.”

“How?” You murmur with a smirk, shifting your legs so that they straddle one of his, “How do you want me to touch you?”

Nanami opens his eyes and yet again and he grunts at how ridiculously close you are to him, “Anywhere.”

You tease, “Anywhere?”

“Yes, hurry up,” Nanami pleads. His voice nearly went desperate for you and you swore you heard something needy underlining in his tone.

Playing off of that, “Needy are we?” You comment before seating yourself on his thigh.

“Yes,” He gulps and begins to stammer while your arms wrap around his neck, “J-Just-“

Oh he can’t even finish his request before your lips are pressing into his neck and he’s groaning loudly. Cock aching for you whilst your lips move along his tensed skin. Each kiss from you earned groan after groan from him, the sound vibrating against his throat and his hand squeezing his cock tighter.

“Fuck,” Nanami curses yet again as you kiss below his sharp jawline.

“You’re one naughty man, y’know. Did you want me to catch you like this?” You murmur against his warm skin, feeling the way he tenses up to your voice.

Nodding and humming a carefully little, “Mhm,” In response, Nanami’s completely at your mercy now, silently begging for you to continue down the path you’re on.

You smile and glance down to his hand still working his cock, cunt clenching around nothing the longer you stare, “Ken…”

“Y-Yes?” He stutters a bit and mentally curses himself for it— he knows you’ll tease him more about it later.

Planting another kiss beneath his jaw, you chuckle, “You’re drippin’ onto the floor,” You utter so seductively that he just groans and throws his head back again. “Makin’ suuch a big mess all because of… what? Hm?”

“You,” He huffs, “You and that… that fucking skirt,” Nanami says through gritted teeth.

“Well,” You whisper with a slight smile still on your face, “If you have a problem with it you can always take it off of me.”

His free hand is gripping onto your waist faster than you have time to react and you let out a slight noise in surprise. Nanami’s lifting his head and angling himself to your neck, lips latching onto you as he lets out a groan like a man starved.

“Yeah?” He hushes out.

Then he’s pushing you back slightly and releasing his cock, both of you soon shoved to your feet with how quick and swift his movements are. He has you stumbling backwards until you bump into his desk and then there’s a hand grabbing at the side of your neck, tugging you into a deep kiss.

It’s hot and heavy, even as he pulls away from you and pants, lifting a thumb to drag your lower lip down, “Lay back and spread your legs for me then,” Nanami murmurs in that deep tone of his.

You gulp, “Sir, I-“

He cuts you off by slipping his thumb into your mouth, “You said I could get that skirt off of you. Don’t go back on your word and do as I said.”

Gazing at him for a singular moment longer, you lift yourself onto his desk and start parting your legs for the man. His thumb leaves your mouth and his finger is slightly wet as he places his palms to your thighs, slipping his grasp up to your hips and beneath that skirt of yours.

The fabric starts bundling up at you hips and you let out a sigh as you lean your upper half back.

Then, Nanami moves to tug at his tie and sends you a look of warning, “And don’t be too loud like last time… You don’t want others to hear how much of a slut you are behind closed doors, right?”

You release a scoff, “Says the man who was jerking off in his office.”

He freezes before smiling slightly, “Touché.”

[fkitwebhaal]

Anyway, here are my thoughts about what each of the companions would present on if they had to give the rest of the party a PowerPoint presentation:

Gale: A completely accurate and detailed lecture regarding the theories of teleportation magic, how it works, and the differences between it and plane shift. There are multiple charts and graphs.

Wyll: “Choosing your hero name: an adventurer’s guide” He does have suggestions for the entire party.

Karlach: “Ranking bars in the gate based on how much they remind me of Avernus.” She has provided illustrations that she made herself. Anything in the Upper City is ranked “like Avernus” because “occupied entirely by pricks.”

Shadowheart: “So I was wrong about Shar: a reluctant apology.” It’s mostly a debunk of Shar’s lies but the entire time it does look like she is pulling teeth. However, she cheers up considerably when she presents on some of the church’s secrets, including the weird ass code names for things that she always thought were a little silly.

Lae’zel: a very educational and complete history of her people’s war against the mind flayers. It’s all rather academic until the last slide which says “AND THIS IS WHY WE DON’T EAT THE WORMS” in all caps.

Astarion: “Ranking you by whose blood I’d want to drink most.” In order, it is as follows Gale (rancid), Karlach (spicy), Minthara (probably is poisonous after all the poison she’s been exposed to), Jaheria (that story about what she did to one of the spawn was memorable), Shadowheart (does cleric blood taste radiant?), Lae’zel (curious how Gith taste, doesn’t want to die), Minsc (large and has extra blood to spare), Halsin (can turn into a bear, think of all that real estate), Wyll (canon verified snack)

Halsin: “Foraging: what’s edible and what isn’t” Gale takes very dutiful notes given someone gave him a mushroom two ten days ago that gave the entire camp food poisoning. Astarion, the only one who did not get food poisoning, who has completely forgotten what he foraged was the culprit, takes 0 notes.

Minthara: Battle orders and tactics. All of these fools need to get whipped into shape.

Jaheria: “Get it Fucking Together: Stop Doing this Shit.” What follows is a callout of everyone’s worst habits and decisions. One slide just says “stop snitching.”

Minsc: it’s just pictures of Boo.

[nottsangel]

Now hear me out, Stalker!Theo seeing y/n touch yourself in her dorm room for the first time?

it is so, so risky. one sound and he’s fucked. but he’s too entranced to even care as he stares at you with your delicate hand between your pretty legs, rubbing your aching clit at a slow pace, your head thrown back in pure ecstasy. he almost can’t believe it— you look so heavenly, and your moans sound like those of a sweet angel. he caught fleeting glimpses of your stunning body before, but this? you, blissfully unaware, fully naked on your soft bed, masturbating merely inches away from theo? this is more than he could ever wish for. how did he get so lucky to have ‘found’ an invisibility cloak? he will return it to its rightful owner, eventually. but right now, he has far more important things occupying his mind.

he can feel his entire body react instantly to the breathtaking scene unfolding before him— his breathing becomes rapid and shallow, his heart rate increases and the blood in his veins surges towards his cock, which grows fully erect in merely a matter of seconds. so fuckin’ beautiful. one day, you’ll be all mine. theo thinks to himself, his hand slowly wandering towards his hard, throbbing cock, begging to be touched as he palms himself over his tight pants. he attempts to mirror your rhythm, his hand moving in synchronisation with yours as if an invisible, irresistible connection binds you both.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, feels— feels so good.” you moan softly with your mouth agape as your fingers speed up, legs instinctively spreading even wider, giving theo an even better view of your glistening, dripping cunt. and that’s when he completely loses control— shattered, ragged breaths uncontrollably escape from his lips as a warm, wet patch starts forming on his pants.

“oh, fuck.” he mutters softly under his breath, for two reasons— first, he has just come in his fucking pants. but second, and far more alarming, your eyes snap wide open and lock in fear on the exact spot where theo’s standing. he anxiously holds his breath, but luckily for him, you quickly brush it off, thinking it must’ve been your mind playing tricks on you while you were too focused on nearing your release, so you move your hand back to your aching core, and continue where you left off. that’s my girl.

ੈ♡˳

[blkkizzat]

❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

PART 2

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (completed)

⋙ product description (summary): okay so you finally realized how badly you fucked up. but is it too late? will choso even talk to you now? has he moved on for good or is it that you now have to worry about someone else moving onto him? ⋙ side effects (tw): more drama. more angst. teasing. jealousy. thirsting. mentions of sex and oral sex. intoxication with drug & alcohol use. sending nudes. y/n is still a brat. bitchy sorority sisters. party culture. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 8.2k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. i appreciate y'all liking this sm hope you don't mind i split this up more, but the second part was getting too unruly in length lol

Plug!Choso who you thought forgetting about would be relatively easy. Overwhelmed with the sheer amount of new presidential duties, you had no shortage of various meetings to keep you occupied. Even so, Choso had a way of popping into your mind as the most routine things would remind you of him. 

You couldn’t go get a fresh set of nails without expecting to see his tinted blacked-out sedan parked outside waiting for you. Scrolling socials had also become annoying as you’d see a post and immediately want to send it to Choso— your sorority sisters would think you were gross if you sent them mukbang videos. You couldn’t even bake anything anymore, especially anything chocolate, without reminding yourself of how much Yuji hated nuts in his chocolate chip cookies. 

Or even now when you had been walking across campus with your sisters and chatting about the massive proposal plan of next year’s sorority activities. A daunting task on its own which you had to submit to your national chapter by the end of the month. In fact, there were a lot of tedious things you realized you’d now be responsible for as president. 

However, all of that flew out of your mind when a car sped by blasting a familiar rock song— one that Choso always played. 

Stopping in your tracks you whipped your head around but the music was coming from a completely different car. The disappointment in your chest felt like you were suffocating.

The song was the first one from Choso’s ‘stoner emo boy playlist’ that you’d actually admitted you liked so he made sure to play it whenever you came around. You didn’t think you were official enough to have a song, but it felt like you did when you’d heard it just now. 

Although what pained you more in the moment was the fact Choso hadn’t even bothered to text you since the day of the brunch. Your pride and guilt kept you from texting him initially but after the first week you caved and did what you once thought was unthinkable— texting a guy first. 

You’d thought he’d answer instantly, happy you’d finally forgiven him for nearly ruining your brunch and you did want to apologize for missing Yuji’s game. But when 20 minutes turned into an hour and an hour turned into the entire day you realized he was ignoring you.

Choso was a dealer. 

He always had his phone on him. In fact, Choso used to respond to you so fast you wondered if he’d always kept your messages up on his screen.

The seriousness hits home when more of your texts go unanswered as the days go by. 

You huffed. 

Two weeks had passed since you first reached out and apparently Choso was still giving you the cold shoulder. Unconsciously chewing on your manicured french tips, your intrusive thoughts paint the absolute worst scenarios. 

This was around the time of day he’d usually be on campus and you’d meet up in the empty garage. 

Would he be there now doing another deal? 

Or giving ‘discounts’ to another girl?

You shook your head. Choso wasn’t like that. 

You knew he wasn’t.

Then again he had stuffed your guts in less than 10 minutes of knowing each other.

But you were the exception right? Choso wouldn’t move on just like that, would he? 

Rejection wasn’t something you had dealt with often in your life or well, ever. 

You’d gotten everything you wanted since you were little whether it was something you worked for or something given to you. 

So what if you didn’t have Choso?

You should be content with life. 

You had everything you’d ever wanted right now. 

You were pretty, got damn near perfect grades and now had the title of sorority president for fuckssake! 

Meeting someone like Choso was never part of your plans and didn’t fit into them either, so you had never really considered what the both of you were to be anything long-term. 

Nor did you ever stop to consider what he thought of your relationship. 

You thought he’d lick his wounds for a few days and forgive you. However with each passing day the thought he might really be done with you sinks in more and more.

Regardless of the legion of frat guys who would jump at the chance to date you, the only guy you really wanted right now apparently wanted fuck all to do with you. 

Ok so maybe you deserve the silent treatment. 

A lot. 

You never been that big of a bitch to him before. But you really had panicked when he showed up out of the blue with your parents on the way! Also if he didn’t go and threaten the DJ like he did???

You sighed. 

No, even under more peaceful circumstances the end result was you weren’t going to leave to go to Yuji’s game. You couldn’t blame him for being furious with you as you knew how protective he was of his younger brother but you at least wish he’d hear you out.

Just for one last time and maybe you could make it up to Yuji too? 

Get him a nice gift for missing his little league game and bake him chocolate chip cookies—without the nuts. You wanted to hear him adorably ramble on which would always be accompanied by animated hand movements while he gave you the rundown. Yuji often roped in Choso as well, who would be all too happy to play whatever role or prop Yuji needed him for. 

Their identical grins, goofy and filled with joy never failed to put a smile on your face. A smile which came easy as there was never any demands put on you when you were with them. No pretending for the sake of appearances, no worrying about social standing and no expectations for favors. 

With them you were just you and they had accepted you.

But had you accepted them? 

Shit. 

Yeah you had fucked up big. 

You knew you needed to talk to Choso and if you weren’t all but certain Choso would slam the door in your face, you’d have half a mind to go pop up at his house. 

Although maybe if Yuji ans—

“—Like HELLO!? Earth to Prez!”

Your train of thought abruptly comes to an end when one of your sorority sisters—Brianna—rudely snaps their fingers in your face. 

Bitch. 

She’d been bitter ever since she’d lost the presidency to you. 

Elections were over so you didn't have to worry about staying on everyone's good side like you had been doing for the last 3 years of being super sweet and non confrontational. Even so, snatching up a fellow sister certainly wouldn’t make a good impression for a newly appointed president.

“What IS it Brie!?” 

Turning to face her you had no choice but to keep your cool.

“Don’t give me attitude! You’re the one not paying attention, space case.”  

Brianna huffed accusingly. 

“Yeah, Brie’s kinda right Prez, you’ve been a little bit distracted lately.” 

Another one of your sisters chimed in—immediately looking down when your eyes narrowed on her.

“Don't tell me the pressure is already getting to ‘Little Miss Legacy'? Or—”

Brianna flips her hair with a sly smile before continuing.

“—is it just that you miss your burnout stalker boy?” 

“E-Excuse me!?”

Extremely disarmed by the allegation, you were not expecting in a million years the very person you were thinking of to be brought up like this by Brianna of all people. 

“You know—you’ve been acting off since the brunch a few weeks ago and we used to be practically swimming in za—way more o’s than we paid for. You must have been doing something to get all that from that future convict and he must be pretty pissed with you if you haven’t been able to get anymore since.”

The rest of your sisters were gagged at the accusations Brianna was tossing your way as it was true that your supply had been dwindling. Their eyes darted between the two of you but mostly focused on you waiting for your response. 

You ignore them though as all your ire was on Brianna.

This whore had some fucking nerve speaking about Choso like that. 

The thought of knocking the smug look off Brianna’s face is almost too tempting —presidency be damned. 

Yet your own guilt stops you.

Too little, much too late for you to be standing up for Choso now the way you had dismissed him so harshly in front of Brianna and the rest of your sisters just a few weeks ago. You could only be mad at yourself, your own actions showed them how to treat Choso.

That didn’t mean you were going to let her get away with it without a proper lashing though. 

“Listen—Brie, Little Miss Legacy is busy juggling the presidency, a 3.8 gpa, volunteer work and planning every goddamn sorority event worth attending. As for you? Well I heard you’d been pretty busy these days juggling your creepy ass T.A. Noaya’s balls because you were going to fail Biology again for the third time—so do you really want to talk about pressure or whose fucking whom for what?”

Standing up for yourself wasn’t something you ever did in an effort to be likable and so Briana, as well as the rest of your sisters, were stunned into silence. 

Even if her fucking for grades had been no secret, it wasn’t something anyone talked about out loud and yet you’d gladly air her out again for insulting Choso.

“Urgh, whatever! Anyways while you were daydreaming we were planning Jeremy's birthday party on Saturday.”

You rolled your eyes at the inattention to some random frat guy’s bday being the reason for this whole confrontation.  

“Oookay and—?”

“—and we need you to get some more za from your stalk— er um, I mean your plug...” 

Brianna quickly corrects herself seeing your eyes flare.  

“Jermey wants a joint filled pinata and we don’t have nearly enough right now to roll all those joints.”

You suck your teeth in annoyance. 

Of course it all had to come back around to Choso.

“I’m not talking to him right now. We’ll find someone else.” 

Well it was half true, more like he wasn’t talking to you. 

You tried not to pout and completely give yourself away at how much it really was affecting you.

“Well start again, Prez! You know his stuff is the best!”

“We already promised everyone we’d have it!” 

“Please Prez!”

The rest of your sorority sisters chimed in.  

“Yeah Prez it shouldn’t be a problem. Send him an ass pic or something, I bet he would respond to that.” 

The rest of your sisters giggled in agreement. 

Little did they know you had already sent Choso nudes 8 days ago, which when you checked Snap last just 10 minutes ago he still hadn’t opened yet. 

You’d die before admitting that though.

“Fine. I’ll figure it out.” 

“Knew you would Prez!” 

Brianna tossed you a fake smile as she turned around and your sisters followed suit walking back towards the sorority house. The chatter now moves on to drink options as the previous conversation is instantly forgotten. 

You still flip the bitch off behind her back though before you catch up to join the conversation lest these dumb bitches skimp out on drinks for more decorations and have you all drinking Monarch vodka again—gross, much more so than a mukbang video.

Plug!Choso who later that night has you laying on your bed staring at your phone suspended over you, your finger hovering over the send button. 

What if he ignored you this time too? 

Worse—what if he had finally blocked you?

Well all your messages had gone through so far even though his read receipts were off. 

Choso hadn’t blocked you yet. 

Only two days had passed since you last texted him but scrolling through your history the wall of blue taking over the entire screen had you feeling vexed.

Hadn’t Choso punished you enough? 

Biting your lip in apprehension you hit send. 

You almost dropped your phone on your face. Sitting up in your bed you stare at his text incredulously as the sticker shock of Choso jacking up the price by $150 hits you.

You deserved that, you supposed. 

But fuck you knew you’d have to come up out of pocket yourself for the extra and you couldn’t admit to your sisters why the price had gone up so much again.

At least he was answering you though. 

You threw your phone across your bed. 

Well that went super. 

You’d hope you’d have the chance to talk about things while he was responding to you, maybe get him to video call you? You knew he still wouldn’t be thrilled with you but you didn’t expect his responses to be that short once he finally answered. 

Choso always over texted you if anything, sending paragraphs at times so these clipped messages were like tiny daggers pricking you with each one you received.  

You didn’t think you could handle him being mean to you like this for much longer. 

Getting a taste of your own medicine fucking sucked.

With a sigh you had decided to push it to the back of your mind. It was Tuesday and he wasn’t even coming until Friday.

That’s when you realized Choso implied he was coming to you. 

As in your sorority house. 

On Friday. 

The night of the Barbie’s Dreamhouse Kegger. 

Goddamnit.

Plug!Choso who shows up to your sorority house on Friday night just before midnight when the kegger is at its peak. Choso doesn’t give a single fuck this time around that he sticks out like a sore thumb with his dark tattered jeans, matching leather jacket, heavy eyeliner and metal piercings amongst all the colorful and peppy pastel attired party-goers. 

Choso waltzes right through the front door like he owns the place.

“Oh! It's you! Finally!” 

Flipping her hair behind her to show off her ample cleavage, your sorority sister Brianna bounces over to Choso who continues to look past her as his eyes scan the foyer.

To be honest he wasn’t even sure she was talking to him until she mentioned you.

“You’re the plug, right? Choso? Here for Prez, hmm?” 

Brianna appraised Choso with a flirty glance and a smile. 

“I’m Brianna, but everyone calls me Brie. She’s outside with her boys! I’ll take you there, kay?”

Her boys?

Brianna batts her eyes sweetly to complement her peppy demeanor. 

Choso simply nods, appearing unphased as Brianna grabs him by the arm of his jacket to lead him through the sea of people crowding the hall and out to the backyard. The very same backyard where you had rejected and humiliated him to save your own superficial social standing just a few weeks ago. 

Of course he hadn’t forgotten. 

Choso noted this time though the expansive yard had a completely different vibe from the pretentious scene he’d walked into before. The backyard was now filled with pink inflatable decorations and rose gold plastered party supplies, trading the expensive crystal for matching pink solo cups and decorative flower displays for shotskis. 

Yet Choso’s comparisons end once he finally spots you in the crowd. 

Playing beer pong with some frat fucks, carefree like you had zero concerns (or thoughts of him) in the world as you taunted your opponents. 

Choso’s eyes narrow when you—clad in a scandalously small pink sparkly tube top—brought a dainty manicured nail to your chest and seductively dragged it down your cleavage to tug at the hem of the fabric. The tops of your tits swell over the edge of the material provocatively as you tease the chance they might altogether spill out onto the table if you pulled any lower.

The plan worked and your opponents thoroughly distracted missed their shots much to your amused squeals and Choso’s growing irritation. His brow twitched as he noticed the rest of your outfit which barely provided any more coverage. 

The matching mini skirt you wore rested low enough on your curvy hips to show the very edges of your thong but high enough on your thighs that your cheeks were nearly peeking out just from the slight bend you took as you aimed to take your next shot. Your pink jeweled belly ring (that he’d bought you) and gem adorned nude fishnets lead down to chunky hot pink glitter pumps only calling more attention to your lower half as they were illuminated by the outdoor tiki lights.

Why were you dressed like such a slut and letting those greasy shitheads drool all over you? 

Your beer pong partner was clearly exaggerating his drunkenness for an excuse to feel you up as his hand rested dangerously close to the top of your ass as you took your next shot. 

Were you that clueless?

Choso’s jaw clenches as you allow yourself to be pulled in by the shoulder tits first into a celebratory hug after landing a cup off a bounce, thus removing two. The way you’d casually let those assholes gawk and grab at you when you wouldn’t even make eye contact with him in public pisses him off like none other and reminds him why he had decided to cut you off after all.

This time though Choso doesn’t march over, masking his resentment with nonchalance as he considers leaving altogether. 

Sure he needed the money—but it wouldn’t make or break him in the long run. 

Keeping the big picture in mind, Choso had Yuji to think of and he couldn’t afford to catch a case over your slutty ass if he actually gave into the urge to knock some random frat fucker’s teeth out.

Yet Choso switches his attention back to Brianna when she returns with a beer filled cup for him and her sheer top unbuttoned even lower. 

Oh? 

Choso grins. 

Plug!Choso who you finally notice standing near the back door of your sorority house next to—Brianna?!…urgh! 

Her obnoxious high-pitched laughter loudly cut through the music and party chatter to draw your attention over. 

What the hell was Choso even doing with her?! 

You grit your teeth as Choso takes the drink. You watch as he reclines against the house and cheers cups together. Brianna is twirling her hair innocently as she flirts with him, giggling like an idiot. 

One without an ounce of shame at that. 

You seethe as she clutches onto his bicep pulling herself closer and resting her tits on his arm when she pretends to momentarily lose her balance. 

Stupid cunt ass bitch. 

You know it's just to spite you too. 

Of course Brianna still didn’t know of the true nature of your relationship with Choso for certain but a backstabbing whore like her would try to fuck him solely off an inkling. 

If anything just so she could say your ‘stalker’ was now hers.

She was just using him! Did Choso not see that?! 

Your beer pong partner slides his arm around you to tell you it’s your turn again but you don’t even spare him a backwards glance as you shrug him off. Abandoning the game and ignoring his puzzled calls after you. 

Truthfully it doesn’t even register as you are on your warpath with Choso and Brianna in your sights, stomping directly towards them like you were on a mission. You were too, as far as you were concerned, determined to break that shit up expeditiously. 

Especially now as you see Brianna airdropping her contact info to Choso.

Stopping directly in front of them you’re far too tipsy to prevent your souring mood from spreading all over your face when they both seem to not notice you right away.  

You loudly clear your throat.

“AHEM!”

Staring at Choso expectantly your lip curls when it's Brianna who greets you first instead.

“Oh Prez, my B girly! We didn’t notice you there!” 

“Whatever, Brie.”

You sneer at her. 

Although Brianna only giggles again, feigning innocence and leaning into Choso a bit more. 

The whore was still touching up on him.

“I was just keeping Cho here company until we found you.”

Bullshit, they were searching fo– Hol’ the fuck up—CHO?! 

Did this whore just call him Cho?! 

That was your fucking nickname for him! Only you and Yuji were allowed to call him that!

Oh Brianna was just begging for that ass whooping, dying for it even. 

Swaying on your feet, your buzz only intensifies your anger and folding your arms in front of you serves two purposes at the moment: 

To keep your balance as you try to prevent your heels from sinking into the grass— but more importantly— because the urge to yank a bitch was escalating to the point your hands were now twitching. 

You had drank way too much in your nervousness waiting for Choso.  

You thought a quick round of beer pong would settle your anxieties as you’d been hanging out near the front door all day and night not knowing when he’d show up. However time had slipped away from you and one game had turned into three. 

You didn’t even really know the guys you were playing with, just some random freshman!

Of course once you finally let your guard down Choso would not only show up but be hanging out with your biggest opp!

But what really had you about to crack—Choso was taking his sweet time in acknowledging you as he appeared to be more concerned with checking Brianna’s contact info than speaking to you right in front of him. “Ight, got it.” 

Choso confirmed and slid his phone back into his jacket before pulling out a joint as he finally made eye contact with you.

THE FUCK!? HE ACTUALLY SAVED IT?! 

Plug!Choso who stares at you with a condescending smirk as his eyes twinkled with sadistic amusement before exhaling smoke towards the sky.

You bite your cheek to hold back your angry tears, you weren’t about to give Brianna the satisfaction. She could fuck right the hell off as far as you were concerned, only wanting to speak to Choso who was currently looking at you like you were the one interrupting something.

“W-Why didn't you text me you were here?! I would have come outside!” 

Your words fumble out of you drunkenly, not sounding one bit as smooth and unbothered as you hoped.

“For why tho? Don’t you have me silenced anyway, Prez?”

You stiffened. 

Even if he wasn’t silenced right now you couldn’t deny you had previously silenced him before the last few weeks of trying to get him to talk to you. 

“Yea figured—so thought it’d be best to come inside…”

Choso exhales smoke through his nose this time, leering down at you as he passes the joint to Brianna who eagerly takes it.

“You really think I’m still tryna wait for you?”

Choso’s words are crushing as the double meaning behind them is not lost on you. Parting your glossed lips you couldn’t even form a sentence as your mouth had gone completely dry.

Brows raised Choso is practically daring you to challenge him. 

But you’re frozen. 

Ironic, because his eyes are all but intensely burning into yours as his accusingly cruel question penetrated you like a hot knife to butter. 

However, bringing you back, Brianna interrupts the moment—because of course she does—not being able to read the damn room nor handle the attention being away from her for 5 fucking seconds.

“You know Prez… You’re going to be pretty busy with all your responsibilities soon...”

Brianna taps her stiletto shaped nail to her lips in faux contemplation. Her smarmy expression gives away her true intentions resembling every bit of the evil bitch she is. 

“...Annnnnd it won’t look good for our lovely new president to put herself at risk by getting us drugs, right? Sooooo, I was telling Cho here how I’m going to be the one taking over for you now.”

Brianna coyly tucks a few loose strands of her long tawny locks behind her ear. 

“Who knows? I might be able to get a better discount than you too.”

Passing the blunt back to Choso she winks at him. Choso merely chuckles, shaking his head at the implications before taking another hit.

And yeah that’s what fucking did it alright.

More than ready to give Brianna exactly what the fuck she’d been asking for you wordlessly lunge forward to snatch her up by those raggedy ass microlink extensions she couldn’t stop touching.

However your trajectory is thrown when you feel Choso grab you by your wrist. Pulling you in towards him, the action confused both you and Brianna—who didn’t know how close she was to actually kissing dirt.

Choso passes the joint back to Brianna, telling her to keep it as a ‘sample’ he turns his attention back towards you.

“Come on Prez, I got places to be. Get me my money now before I charge your ass the full stack.”

You both leave Brianna standing there dumbfounded as Choso drags you back into the house. 

Plug!Choso guides you through the crowd of your sisters that are all now much too drunk and self-involved in their own good time to care about the pierced n’ scary dark haired man towing their president behind him. 

Reaching the staircase Choso motions for you to go ahead of him and you nod dumbly as you obediently climb the stairs trying not to trip. 

Urging you along, Choso is right on your tail— quite literally, as he tries to simultaneously avoid staring at your ass cheeks jiggling out from under your skirt—but more importantly tries to keep any other wandering eyes below from getting a peek as well. 

Choso places a hand on your waist, both to keep you from falling and to move you along quicker. Warm tingles radiate out from where his hands touch your bare skin yet he instantly releases you once you reach the top.

You can’t help but to pout at the loss of contact.

“Which one?”

Choso still feels all business though as he walks ahead of you like he can’t wait to wrap this up and get you the fuck out of his life again.

Plug!Choso who you usher into your room before closing the door. The party seems distant as only the faint sounds of the base bumping against the walls reach the sanctuary of your room. Still holding the knob you’re leaning with your back against the doorframe as your body is still pumping insane amounts of adrenaline through you. 

Nearly fighting Brianna, Choso finally touching you, on top of being drunk had your mind going into overdrive especially since it seemed like Choso would leave as soon as the deal was over.

Would he really take the money and go just like that?

Choso’s face is unreadable as he strolls deeper into your room and casually looks around. You had always come over to his place and he would have never in a million years dreamed of being able to see your room in your actual sorority house. 

It was so you though. 

Tidy and adorned in your favorite colors, your walls are decorated with pictures of celebrities, friends and various moodboards. Not to mention it smelled like you. The scent of your sugary perfume with notes of vanilla and saffron assaulted Choso's senses making it seem a bit warmer in the room than it actually was.

“Yo Prez, the money.” 

His patience for the situation is dwindling. He has to get out and fast. 

Choso doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t leave soon.

Yet you were plotting the exact opposite and you couldn’t let him leave so easily now that you finally had him alone after all this time. 

Armed with a plan you nod as you scoot by him and over to your vanity to retrieve the cash. Acting clueless as to which drawer you put it in, you search them all as you bend over to check one of the drawers at the very bottom. 

Choso swallows hard.

Your ass–with plenty of curves to spare–is on display for him as well as your sheer pink thong that teasingly pokes out between your crystal studded fishnets. 

You had to be doing this on purpose. 

Swishing side to side your skirt raises up a bit higher with every shift of your hips while your thong strains tighter across the print of your fat pussy lips threatening to snap altogether.

Akin to a seductive pendulum as you sway before Choso completely entrancing him. 

Only you could ever affect him in this way.

After what feels like years do you finally locate the money, a sizable stack of cash composed of 20 dollar bills.

“Found it! In the top drawer all along, imagine that!”

Smirking you plop down in your vanity chair crossing your legs not missing how Choso’s gaze lingered, even if just the tiniest moment, on your thighs.

“Took ya long enough…” 

Choso mumbles. There's no real bite to his words this time though. He’s holding his backpack close to hide his half chub while he removes 3 hefty bags of kush from his backpack to toss on the desk beside you.

Reaching for the cash his annoyance is evident on his face when you jerk away from him. Leaning back and fanning the bills across your chest, you wave them tauntingly in the air.

“Stop playin’ around. Not in the fuckin mood, I swear.”

“Playing?”

You question acting coy.

“This is just business right Choso?”

You sat up as if you were taking this seriously at all and Choso is unamused as he reaches for the money again. 

And you snatch it back yet again like a fucking brat. 

“I’m practically dropping a stack on this–thanks to your new “tax” and all. How do I know if it's any good?”

Clearly your plan is working as you continue to push Choso’s buttons pretending you aren’t excited from him towering over you now.

“Cut the games, Prez. Ya know my shit is always pressure.”

You act contemplative as your eyes lazily travel up his tense muscular form appreciating the view after not seeing him for so long.

“Hmmm, do I though?”

Choso scoffs, growing tired of your games. 

That’s all he ever was to you, a game.

“Like I said, just business. Or are you telling me you weren’t going to count the cash to make sure it's all there before you left?”

Damn. Well you got 'em there. 

Choso rubs the back of his neck before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Tch—let’s make this quick then, Prez.”

Plug!Choso who after grabbing one of the bags of weed off your vanity takes a seat on your bed. He shrugs off his jacket to retrieve a pipe from the inner pocket and impatiently extends his hand hurrying you with a quick beckoning gesture.

“Gimme your grinder.”

Rolling your eyes you haphazardly toss it over to him. However, unbeknownst to you, the top was loose and crumbles of kush spilled out of it and onto your bed when he failed to catch it.

“Nice looking out Cho, great catch.”

Even though the poor throw and loose top had been your fault, the fact he apparently couldn’t wait to fucking leave along with you still pissed with how he flirted with Brianna makes you lash out. 

“You fucking serious right now? I’m always lookin’ out for your ungrateful ass.”

Obnoxiously you huff, crossing your arms and turning your head away from him.

Ungrateful? For what!? 

He hadn’t been ‘looking out’ for the last month, he’d been completely ignoring you! 

“Heh, like I didn't just stop you from turning that gouda chick into actual cheese from the way you went at her?”

You press your lips together firmly to keep from cracking a smile at his play on Brianna’s nickname. You’re honestly still salty he had even been around her at all getting so chummy. He’d always talked about how stupid your sorority sisters were, it didn’t make sense why he let her flirt with him like that.

You’re also mad he didn’t at least let you pop her one good time.

“The bitches name is Brie. You should know, you were ‘oh so concerned’ about saving her number and giving her a discount.”

Choso looks at you like you’re an idiot as he shakes his head. He stops packing the bowl to throw you his phone.

“Whose number?”

Frowning, you already know the passcode so you unlock it right away. 

Sure enough there was no Brie nor Brianna in his contact lists. Not even her number showed up when you searched his phone for it in case it was under a completely different alias. 

He’d never even saved it. 

The smug smirk on Choso’s face tells you he knew what she was doing all along and got you all riled up on purpose.

In fact, Choso had recognized Brianna’s ploy immediately. You had previously mentioned something about an annoying n’ bitchy rival. 

Besides, there was no other plausible reason for a dumb sorority bitch like her to be talking to him at all—much less throwing herself at him so aggressively.

“Doesn’t feel good now does it, Prez?”

Your face is on fire and you turn away from Choso totally humiliated. You had played right into his hands.

“Hmph! Don’t get cocky, I wanted a reason to beat her ass anyway.”

You puff your cheeks into a pout that Choso can’t help but to chuckle at, shaking his head at you again. 

You were a huge brat that's for damn sure.

“Well, it certainly looks like you found one.”

You’re quiet finally as you rake over his words in your mind. 

‘I’ve always been looking out for you.’

Not only did he not save Brianna’s number there’s a high probability he just kept you from being kicked out of the entire sorority and maybe school too. Fighting was a huge no-no and you could have gotten expelled. Apparently jealous with rage you were ready to risk it all at that moment without even thinking of the consequences. 

Fuck.

Choso had in fact still been looking out for you—even when you didn’t deserve it. 

Plug!Choso who accepts your silence is a sign of your defeat and after a few minutes you move from your desk to sit next to him on your bed as he finishes grinding and packing the bowl. 

“Brats get greens this time.”

I’m paying a premium for all this shit, I better get greens. 

But you hold in that thought, not wanting to give him any more lip in the moment as you’re the one left licking your wounds this time.

Like a gentleman Choso holds the bowl for you and lights it as you take a hit. He tries not to notice how well your glossed lips are wrapping around the phallic mouthpiece as searingly thick smoke flows into your lungs. 

Damn, this shit was dank as hell. 

You’re doing your best to hold it in but your lungs are burning as you watch Choso take a hit himself. Not being able to keep in your coughs for a second more you’re left signaling at Choso to ‘wait a sec’ when he holds the pipe out back to you.

Fuck, it was even stronger than what you remembered.

“See Prez? True pressure.”

You shrug at him trying to save face although your eyes are watering, already tinting a bright shade of red.

“Uhh duh, I always cough Choso. I’ll still need a few more hits to know for certain.”

Choso rolls his eyes.

You take another hit—a smaller one this time—before slowly falling back onto your bed.  

Your eyes close as your high settles in and you debate on what to say next without fucking things up even more with your slick ass mouth. 

However your concentration is diminishing quickly as your buzz makes your senses overly aware of Choso’s intense body heat radiating off him, your thighs practically touching. 

The weed swirling together with the alcohol in your system makes you all the more sensitive. Your mind floats away as your gaze is hyper focused on how the lean muscles of Choso’s toned back and broad shoulders ripple under the thin black tee he wears.

God, Choso is so sexy. 

Your legs squeeze together to calm the burning in your core just from the thought. You want nothing more than to drag him down to bed with you and melt into his embrace—but there's an invisible force field around him that you can’t reach. 

You’re almost certain he would recoil from you if you tried now. 

There’s a conversation you needed to have first but you didn’t know how to start it without fucking things up even more. 

The result is an awkward silence that uncomfortably settles in the room as Choso finishes the bowl off himself. 

Never one to smoke too much of his own product he’s only indulging now to temper his mood. 

Choso doesn’t know why he’s still here, all good sense in him telling him to take the money and get the hell out. Yet he knows he’s hoping for something–anything–to show him you’ve changed even though all signs so far tonight have been showing him you haven’t.

You’re still cowering away from any accountability and he is determined not to give you an easy out this time. 

And it’s for that exact reason Choso can’t look over at you right now.

Otherwise he’s sure to see your tiny pink top that had started to roll up exposing the glitter adorned skin of your underboob. Or how your slow exhales cause your soft stomach to dip temptingly showing off the pink crystal belly button ring he gave you. 

The sight of your fishnets brushing against one another out of the corner of his eye alone is enough to know he wouldn’t be able resist grasping onto your supple thighs. God how he would relish the way his fingers would indent into them. He wanted to rip those slutty fishnets right off of you so his head could push your skirt up even further on your hips while he drowned himself in your wet cunt—not even stopping when you would cry from overstimulation.

Plug!Choso, who is thankful his distraction at long last comes in the form of the faded gray blue fabric by your pillow. 

“Yo!..is that my shit?”

Eyes opening wide, you pale upon seeing Choso reach for the crumpled up shirt. Choso unravels the tee to confirm it is in fact his shirt—one of his favorite band tees at that. 

“Oh, is that yours?”

Choso deadpans.

“So you listen to RHCP now?”

“Maybe…” 

You grab it from him and toss it to the side less you break down and confess to him you had slept in it most nights. Not only have you slept in it but you do in fact listen to RHCP now, especially when you workout.

However with this Choso has hit his limit. 

To him you hadn’t changed. 

Could you not even own up to the tiniest of things?

He couldn’t let himself get sucked back into your toxic web, not anymore. The longer he stayed the more likely that was.

“S’all good, Prez. Keep it.”

Choso grabs his jacket.

“Listen, I gotta g–”

“—w-wait!” 

You grab the other end of his jacket. You still find it difficult to find the right words but you had to say something. 

It was now or never.

“W-Wait… ah, at least before you go…l-let me know how Yuji’s game went?”

You meekly ease into the question but see Choso go ridgid at the mention regardless. 

For now he relents and stays seated. Although a few minutes pass before he speaks.

“He won, of course. MVP of the season.”

You smile genuinely at that but Choso isn’t looking at you— too pained by the memories that began to bubble up again like bile in his throat.

“Awe, that's so great! I knew he would! I’m so happy for him.”

Choso grits his teeth as he turns back to you, his anger evident in his entire being as every muscle in him flexes.

“Are you? So that’s how you treat someone you’re happy for? Really?!”

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond.

“Yuji’s a strong kid— much stronger than me. Honestly, I didn’t even think he minded you weren’t there as he was all focus and excitement to play that day—”

You let out a quiet exhale in relief though any consolation you felt was instantly shattered as Choso continued. 

“But when I put him to bed that night. H-He..He’d asked why you weren’t there…He asked if you were gone now like our parents. Yuji wouldn’t believe you’d miss it otherwise.”

Choso struggles to say the last bit and maintain eye contact with you. 

Every moment you gaze into his eyes though was pure torture as you’re racked with even more guilt.

“Choso I–”

“I’m so fuckin’ tired of all your fuckin’ excuses!”

You’re silent. It’s so strange to see him this upset you don’t know what to say.

“I’d ask you if you’d even considered the abandonment issues that kid already carries but you don’t. You don’t fill that fuckin’ superficial lil’ head of yours with anything beyond yourself!”

Finishing what he had to say, Choso gathers up his jacket and backpack, stuffing it full with the stack of cash on the vanity—not even bothering to count it.

Momentarily dumbfounded, you're scrambling from the bed to block his path. 

“C-Come on, Choso! I didn’t want to abandon him or you! I tried to call you and I texted you so much these past few weeks to talk!”

Choso isn’t impressed.

“And not one text actually had the words ‘I’m sorry’ in it. Not that it would have cut it this time.”

You're reduced to silence for the umpteenth time tonight. 

You wreck your brain knowing most of your texts had been focused on baiting him to respond to you but fuck—did you really not even apologize? 

“But I am sorry!”

Choso’s gaze is cold and distant, so foreign in comparison to the warmth you’d taken for granted before.

“Whatever you say, Prez.”

There it is again. You’ve grown to resent the title, the job, everything about it.

“Just stop calling me that, okay?!”

You’re trying hard to fight back the tears that threateningly pool in the corners of your eyes.

“What...Prez? Why, it aint all that they cracked it up to be?”

“N-No… it’s n-not… I actually hate it and I hate being here.”

Your voice is hardly above a whisper as you direct your words towards the ground. You didn't want Choso to see your glassy eyes even if he’d noticed the cracks in your voice. 

Plug!Choso who regards you with skepticism but curiosity nonetheless. So at long last you decided to be honest with both him and yourself aloud for the first time.

But it didn’t mean shit if you wouldn’t do something about it.

“Then quit.”

Choso says to you like it’s the most obvious answer in the world as your head snaps up incredulously.

“H-huh? W-What?!”

“You heard me princess— quit.”

Could you really just quit? 

Truthfully, you had never considered it an option. The expectations put on you by your sorority sisters, your parents and the plans you had made for yourself had all led you to the commitments and responsibilities you had now. 

How could you just let them all down by walking away from it all?  

“Choso— I heard you..b-but I can’t, you don’t understand I–”

“—No, I understand better than you do, princess. You spent so much time with me and Yuji because you hate this sorority bullshit, you can’t stand any of these bitches and now you just agreed to be president of your own goddamn misery!”

Reading you for filth, Choso stares at you expectantly but you avoid his gaze.

Your nails suddenly becoming all the more interesting as you fumble with them.  

“–Ight then.”

Choso doesn’t want to argue with you any longer. 

You’re still full of excuses to his disappointment. If you wanted to be something you weren't that badly, then that was your own prerogative he decided as he brushed past you.

“N-No! P-Please, don’t leave Cho!”

There's clear desperation in your voice. You cling to him, burying your head into the middle of his back as your shaky hands weave their way around his midsection. 

Choso is mid-twist on the doorknob. 

He had all intentions of leaving if you still weren't being honest with yourself about things.

Still does. 

Yet his determination is wavering from your hot tears begin to seep through his shirt and trickle down his spine. The warmth of your body—now flattened against his—causes your pert nipples to poke into his back while your delicate fingers wretchedly grasp onto his taunt abs like a lifeline. 

Like you actually needed him in your life.

Fucking hell, you didn’t play fair at all.

But he couldn’t forgive you just to hurt him again and especially not Yuji.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“I said let go!”

“NO!”

Choso easily pries you off of him, spinning you around as your back slams against the door pinning you in place. His hands encircle your arms and extend out fully so he could put some distance between the two of you. 

He couldn’t think straight when you were all over him. 

Your world is a blur and in your crossfaded state you are left with vertigo at the sudden shift of positions. Both you and Choso are left panting at the intensity of it all.

“You don’t listen to anyone do you?! You just do whatever the fuck you want…”

Choso’s face is red with anger and your eyes—already reddened from your high—take on a deeper shade as you are now openly bawling in front of him.

“Tch, why are you the one crying? This is how you want things, right?!”

You shake your head, unable to communicate beyond your pitiful sobs. 

Choso grows more and more frustrated as the guilt he is feeling battles with his more rational mind prompting him to still be angry with you despite your tears. Back and forth his mind races until it all bubbles over and—

“—You don’t think I know I’m not good enough for you!?”

Your teary eyes widen at the sudden admission. 

Choso even startles himself with his own confession he’d been holding in all this time. 

“But not Yuji...He’s already so much better than me! He’s gonna actually be something one day. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Your lip quivers and your pleas are almost unintelligible.

“I-I know…m’s-sorry…m-m’so sorry C-Choso!”

Choso exhales deeply and shoulders slump forward as he releases you, running a hand over his face and back through his raven locks.

You couldn't read his expression but you didn't want him to attempt to leave you again as you close the gap between you, arms encircling him once more.

Choso doesn’t push you away, yet to his credit he doesn't return your embrace either as he’s still torn.

“I-I missed y-you so m-much.”

Cursing the hold you have over him Choso can’t deny he still wants to be with you—but you both were at an impasse.

Nothing good would come from repeating the same cycle again. 

There is no resolution if you still want to keep up a front. 

“P-Please forgive me Cho—I-I love you.”

The sweet proclamation is accentuated by your pillowy lips spreading kisses over his chest while the tips of your fingers slip up his shirt to place feather light scratches at the small of his back. 

Love, eh?

An unexpected revelation dawns on Choso and he is now resolved in what he has to do. 

“Yeah princess, you really love me?” 

Oblivious to the danger edging in his voice, you nod as you continue to coo affectionate words and affirmations into his chest. One of your legs hitches around his as you mold yourself deeper into him thinking he’d finally forgiven you. 

Had he forgiven you though? 

Well, not exactly. 

A devious smirk appears across Choso’s features.

Choso had come to the conclusion that at the end of the day you were simply a terrible people pleaser. 

Your stuck up bratty nature was merely a front of false confidence. 

You tried so hard to become whatever anyone else wanted you to be, you'd lie to yourself and become utterly miserable in your efforts to appease those around you. 

However, Choso knew the version of you he’d gotten when you’d been with him and Yuji had been the real you. 

And he actually did believe you loved him— even if you had just forced yourself to say it in the moment so you could manipulate him into staying.

Sympathetic to your pitiful nature, Choso wouldn’t just abandon you. 

But if you couldn’t do what was best for you, he would make sure you would himself.

PART 3

⋙ ©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⋙ I'm about halfway through P3, its 5.5k already lol. stick with me though cause pt 3 is the nasty brat taming smut we all are waiting for! if i tagged you here i will tag you again for p3 but im still adding new people to tag list so lmk in comments or reblogs if you'd like to be added. trying to focus to finish this but my adhd might distract me into writing a quick gojo fic but if i do i will finish this right after!

⋙tags: (ps ty for all the sweet comments for those who joined my overall writing tag list yall legit had me in tears ilysm!) @nkogneatho @toji-girl-main @RoyaltyAndRoses @aydene @slowlyshycomputer @bontensbabygirl @yoonjinhusbands @anxious-chick @kashxyou @halosdiary @littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @buttercupblu @tonycries @lowkeyremi @strawberrygirl0 @crybaby-herbalist @rintcrous @bomboclakkk @anubisisthebomb @alwaysfreakingout @oeanonyme @chrys23 @spltbtch @uranometrias @officialsimpp @crispycatt @purple-obsidian my-jukebox @peachyharts111 @thedorklingqueen @sugurusprettygirl @scarasw1f3 @kgorethz @c1truswh4re @madaqueue

[girltomboy]

Taking better care of myself

I am a bit disappointed with how I've been treating myself lately. Like, I care for myself and everything in terms of hygiene, nutrition, rest, etc., but I honestly could be more responsible and conscious. For example, I'm very very behind on my chores, and they keep piling up and I'm extremely overwhelmed because I don't know where to start now. There's something to pick up and fix in every single corner of my apartment, but after I finish work I just want to savor my few hours of freedom and I start doing something else or I go out. I could maybe ask my bf to help me clean one weekend, but then again... the number of hours we have together is actually not so large, etc. Plus I'm bad at chore distribution because I'm too used to doing everything myself. But I should perhaps not overthink this.

Another issue is MY BODY! I'm staying up late, my posture is abysmal while I work, I don't stretch and other than trying to take a walk every evening I don't move much either. I try to eat balanced and healthy but I feel I've been overdoing fast food; I used to have it like once a week and lately I've been having it more often than that. I also eat snacks and sweets, and I'm noticing some weight gain that's not significant but to me it's noticeable because I'm not used to it and it's kind of throwing me off. I'm trying not to make a thing out of it and slip back into my old habits. And smoking is another enemy I'm making, although I'm trying to be aware of that and not let it grow. I used to smoke 🍃 only on weekends and maybe days off last year, but I've started to do it on weekdays now and then, and I really don't like how it's making me feel. I've been cutting back on that. Other than that there's the occasional social cigarette which I guess existed in the past too, but now that I go out more and everyone I hang out with smokes, I've started to feel the need to do it just to have something to do with my hands, or if I have a drink. AND I've also been drinking which I never do. Nothing wild, like once a week 1-2 glasses of wine, or a beer, or 1-2 shots. I only have my coworkers to blame for this because they're really heavy on the pressure, and I used to be adamant about my boundaries, but recently I feel like I won't have fun if I don't drink. Which is completely asinine. I think I need to get back into having stronger boundaries and discipline.

Some more poison I torture my body with is constant screen time. If I'm not working in front of the laptop I'm on my phone, and if I'm not on my phone I'm on my personal laptop, like right now (it's so nice to type on lol). I miss those days where I'm so caught up in stuff that I forget or don't need to check my phone all day. I haven't had one of those in a long time, but I'm planning to. Being with my boyfriend helps too. I also want to get back into reading, I've even managed to arrange all of the books I have here on a shelf on my balcony. Very soon it's going to be a whole year since I started reading a book and never finished it lmao. That saddens me a lot, but I'm determined to finish it before its 1 year anniversary.

On the positive side, the weather is getting nicer and warmer everyday, days are getting longer and I wish I could be outside all day long! I try to avoid thinking about that because I get extremely hopeless at having zero time for myself because of my job. I seriously believe it's at the root of most of the issues I described here. But I live for the warm evenings, the weekends, and summer plans!

[entitled-fangirl]

A good father.

Gwayne Hightower x wife!reader

Summary: fatherhood is different than what Gwayne expected. Daeron worries that it will be the same as Otto and Gwayne's relationship.

A/n: so I saw that this was the most voted for the poll so far, so I just decided to write it today! Surprise!

Masterlist

.........................................................

Otto Hightower had returned to Old Town only days ago, and things could not have been more awkward.

Well, not for Gwayne.

That cocky little shit just said everything that came to mind.

It seemed he liked to battle his father.

…

"Daeron?" Her soft voice came over the yard.

Young Daeron sat in the garden of Old Town, a frown upon his face. But at the sound of her voice, he turned and his eyes brightened.

Y/n Hightower slowly walked to him. Five months had passed and finally, she was beginning to show the child that was growing inside her. And she seemed to glow all the more for it.

Daeron moved to the side of make room for her on the bench, as well as hold his hand out to her to help her sit.

"Something is bothering you." She stated and pushed his blonde hair behind his ear. 

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Daeron," she tried again softly.

She had a way with him. She never had to raise her voice to get her way, for everyone that heard the meek tone of her voice still listened and obeyed. 

"It's Grandsire," Daemon explained. "More… it's the constant bickering."

She nodded, running a hand through his hair affectionately. "Gwayne and his father have never seen eye to eye, not since Alicent became queen. They are just two very different men."

"Is that how all fathers and sons talk?"

She pulled his chin up to make his eyes meet hers, "No. Not all fathers and sons speak in ill regard of one another."

"What if he does it to his own son?"

Her brows furrowed, "What?"

"What if Gwayne speaks like that to the babe?" 

She just realized how his eyes glazed over with tears. "Oh, sweet boy." She pulled him to her. "Gwayne is a man with a temper, but he would not do that. There is a barrier between Gwayne and his father. One that cannot be fixed now, and only because of that do they fight."

Daeron considered her words for a while, "So, because there is no barrier with the babe-"

"-Gwayne will love this child with his entire being, I promise you."

She held him for a while, promising to talk to her husband about it later.

…

"Might I speak with you?" Her voice echoed out.

Gwayne turned slowly, his face lighting up at her sudden appearance. "You and I both know that you may."

A soft smile came to her lips as she walked to him, "I've missed you as of late."

His head tilted, "I've been here."

She rested her hands on his chest, "Yes, but your mind has been elsewhere."

One of his hands moved to her swollen stomach, "Very much so. My father has been occupying my attention." He scoffed thinking about it, "He's a foolish man."

Her hands rubbed soothingly across his chest. "Even now, you only think of him." She leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, "Don't neglect your wife and future child to argue with your father."

He let out a soft sigh as her words broke his angered facade. "Forgive me."

"No." She leaned against him. "You need to apologize to Daeron."

"Daeron?" He asked in surprise. "Why Daeron?"

"He's worried for you. Well… for the child."

His eyes moved to her to stomach. "I don't understand. He has no reason to worry."

"He's seen the way you bicker with your father."

His hand rubbed up and down, "I'm still rather confused. What does my relationship with my father have to do with the child? Are you alright? Is the babe alright?"

She placed her hand over his, "I am fine."

He tilted his head in worry, "You're sure?"

"I am. Daeron is frightened that you'll speak to our child the way your father speaks to you."

A worried look came over his face, "I would never."

"I know that."

"I did not realize he noticed that."

"I told him I'd speak to you to reassure his worries."

He nodded and looked to her face. "Let me talk to him."

She nodded, "Alright. He should still be outdoors."

Gwayne placed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll go now. Wait for me?"

She hummed a questioning noise, "What? Why?"

He grinned, "I want to make up for lost time when I return."

A blush came to her cheeks, "Do make it quick then."

He smoothed down her hair, "I shall."

…

"Come here, nephew."

Daeron looked up and saw his uncle. He stood and smoothed out his shirt. "Yes, uncle?"

He ruffled the boy's hair and smirked, "I've been told that you're worried about something."

A guilty look crossed the boy's face, "Aunt Y/n told you that?"

"She did. But I want to hear it from you." He pointed to the bench, "Sit." Gwayne sat next to him. "I understand that you worry about the way your grandsire and I speak to one another."

Daeron nodded, "You fight often."

"We do." He wanted to fully explain it all, but his nephew was still a child. "We do not… agree often. That is all."

"You and Aunt Y/n disagree often," he pointed out.

He realized the direction that the boy was going, and was earnestly trying to make him see his side. "I'd never speak negatively to that woman."

"But why is that different to Grandsire?"

"Well, I love my wife," he said immediately.

Daeron's eyes watered, "Do you not love Grandsire?"

"I…" he looked away in thought. "He is my father. Do you love your father, Daeron?"

"I believe I do," he answered. "But I do not know. I've lived here for almost my whole life. I don't know father well at all."

"May I tell you a secret? I do not know my father at all, either." Gwayne leaned back against the bench. "My father has always been in King's Landing with your father. Seems we're the same."

Daeron nodded, "I didn't… I didn't think about that."

Gwayne put a hand on Daeron's shoulder, "I will always stay by the babe's side. I will not part from my family."

The boy relaxed at that. He stared in thought, something clearly bothering him. "What is my mother like?"

Gwayne frowned, "W…What?"

"The queen. What is she like? Surely you know."

"Why not ask your Grandsire?"

"I don't know him well enough. I try to avoid him in all honestly. Is that wrong of me?"

Gwayne considered the thought. "I don't think so. I was very frustrated to see him return too."

The Targaryen prince stared up at his uncle, "Did he treat his wife poorly?"

Gwayne felt a smile come to his face at the mention of his mother. "No. No, he loved her very dearly, as I love my wife." He looked out over the garden. "And Alicent is much like your grandmother. Very headstrong but very kind, and as fiery as the Hightower hair. Or, at least… I think she is. She was." He turned to look at Daeron, "Do you wish to visit your mother at some point?"

"No. I'm content here."

"Are you?" A soft voice interrupted. 

Y/n approached the two, a slight waddle to her step due to her condition.

Gwayne stood up and held his arms out to her. When she was close enough, he helped her sit on the bench. 

She still looked to Daeron. "You're happy here?"

He nodded.

"I'm very glad," she smiled.

Gwayne knelt in front of the boy, "I promise to you that I will love my child unconditionally. Now, I want you to stop worrying. Will you do that?"

Daeron nodded again.

Y/n reached up to smooth the boy's hair, "And you'll still be loved the same when you have a cousin."

"You'll be an excellent cousin," Gwayne chipped in.

"I don't know how to do so. I… I am hardly a brother."

"Do not fret, Daeron. It will come to you naturally," she cooed.

…

A few months later, Daeron entered the couple's chambers in nervousness, eager to meet his cousin.

Gwayne sat against the headboard of the bed, his exhausted wife leaning against his chest. "Daeron?"

He looked up at his uncle, "Is she alright?"

Gwayne nodded and pulled her just a little closer. "She's perfect."

"And the babe?"

Gwayne looked across the room. 

Otto Hightower sat on the sofa across the room, the babe held securely in his arms. 

It was clear that there was a little tension between the two men.

Otto looked to Daeron, "C'mere."

Daeron walked to his grandsire curiously.

Otto lowered one shoulder to let Daeron see the babe. "A boy."

Daeron's eyes widened, "A boy?"

Gwayne spoke up, "Are you happy?"

He nodded immediately.

Y/n's eyes opened and she let out a groan.

Gwayne shifted her, getting her more comfortable. "Need something?"

"Wanna get up," she whispered. 

Gwayne looked at the others in the room, "Leave us."

Daeron nodded, leaving with the maester.

Otto wanted to be annoyed, but he couldn't. He stood and went to put the babe down, but Gwayne spoke up, "Bring him here."

Y/n's eager arms took the child from Otto. 

Lord Hightower smiled softly, "You'll be a wonderful mother."

She grinned. "I hope so."

Otto then looked to Gwayne. He stared at him for a while. Gwayne was expecting an insult. 

"I was so scared the day you were born."

Gwayne was confused by the sudden confession. "What?"

"The day you were born. I remember the way my hands shook." He looked between the two, "Your mother was so confident."

"I heard she was wonderful," Y/n chirped in softly.

Otto nodded, "She was."

"Gwayne, I need to feed the babe."

Gwayne nodded. "I'll fetch the midwife to help you." He stood and led his father out.

The two walked down the corridor in silence. Finally, Otto spoke. "Your son will be a strong warrior."

"He will be. I'll be here to ensure it," Gwayne said bitterly.

Otto sighed. "We've never gotten along, I understand-"

"-No, you just weren't here."

"I was leading the realm," Otto tried to reason.

"You left," he grunted.

"I am still your father."

"No. Only by blood."

Otto scoffed, "Do not be weak."

"I will raise my son properly. I won't leave my child. And I won't leave my wife." Gwayne grunted. "Something you didn't do."

"Do you believe that I returned here only because I wished to?"

Gwayne stared at him for a while, "I… I do not pretend to understand your choices."

Otto took a step forward, "I was terrified the day you were born. I did not know how to be a father. I didn't have one long enough to learn from him."

Gwayne's head tilted, "And?"

"And…" Otto sighed as his frustration grew. "The king granted me a few months leave. Do you believe I just so happened to time out my arrival with end of your wife's condition and the months after?"

He crossed his arms in annoyance, "What are you saying? You wanted to be here? You wanted to see the child?"

"I WANTED TO SEE YOU!" Otto yelled. "YOU AND YOUR FOOLISH PRIDE!" He brought a hand to his forehead, "I remember the feeling of holding your first child. It is not easy to be a new father and to lead. I only wish to help you in the ways I know how."

"You came back for me?" He asked incredulously.

"Entirely," he admitted. "I see your mother in you. In every word, in every deed. Even in death, she haunts my narrative."

"Would you change your choices if you could restart?"

"Very much."

That was all Gwayne needed to hear. "We are both too stubborn for our own good."

"I want the best for you, Gwayne. I am sorry if I have never stated that. Your wife lives, as does your child. That is the greatest blessing that a man can receive."

"I am well aware," Gwayne smiled lightly. "I… I had to rule Old Town in your absence. I suppose it has been hard to step aside now that you've returned."

Otto smiled. "For now, I wish for you to tend to your family. Leave the rest to me."

Gwayne nodded, "I will." He turned to leave, but hesitated. "Father."

Otto's brows lifted.

Gwayne forced the words out, the feeling new. "Thank you."

Daeron had hidden around the corner, listening to the entire exchange.

…

"Do promise to write often," Y/n smiled as she held the small infant in her arms.

Otto strapped the last bag onto the horse, "I shall try."

She shifted the babe in her arms, "Gwayne has… spoken well of you, as of late." She smiled teasingly, "Do you know why?"

Otto faked a confused look. "Has he? Haven't the faintest idea."

"Well, know that he does. Perhaps he's only now respecting the challenge that fatherhood brings."

He grinned, "I will pray that your son is only half of the battle that Gwayne is."

She laughed, "He is a Hightower. We both know that a prayer like that is worthless. He will be a fighter until his dying day."

Gwayne walked to the pair, pulling his wife to his side, "When will you return?"

Otto shrugged, "When I am granted leave next. I am uncertain. Care for Daeron for me still."

The red head nodded, "You know I always will."

Y/n stepped forward and kissed Otto's cheek, "We shall await the day you return."

He looked at the two. The love they shared was obvious. "As do I."

He mounted his horse. 

Y/n muttered something about feeding the babe and excused herself, leaving Otto and Gwayne.

"And Gwayne? You're a good father."

He felt a small twist in his gut.

...............................................................

[obae-me]

Would He Peel The Orange?

(I hope this hasn't been done too much already, but I really wanted to do it) So, if you've been in the same internet circle as I've been in, you probably know about this trend that's going around right now where people ask their partner to peel an orange for them. It's supposed to kind of signify your partner's willingness to do something important to you, even if it seems mundane or even inconvenient for them. So of course, I wanted to imagine what our favorite boys would do in this scenario.

Note: This is just for silly goofy times. A little ha-ha funny jape, if you will. Meaning not serious. If I think a character would not peel an orange, I don't think they're suddenly toxic or would not love the MC or anything.

"Could you peel an orange for me?"

Lucifer

To those of you who say he is too prideful to peel an orange for you, do I need to point out that he is the eldest sibling? Not only that, but he's practically a single mom. He has Sloth as the baby brother of the family. Do you think Belphie peels his own oranges? No! Lucifer probably cuts the crusts off of his brother's sandwiches for heaven sakes.

Is it heaven sakes or heaven's sake?... I actually don't know

However, I do think he would get suspicious, especially if you're trying to film his reaction. He would raise an eyebrow and know that there's something more to you just wanting an orange. Is this orange cursed? Is this a prank? You'll have to convince him it's perfectly normal before he straight up refuses.

Is he going to get up from his desk or move away from work to go grab you an orange? Probably not. But if you bring it to him, he will peel it for you, giving you a weird- and maybe slightly judging- look the entire time.

He will peel it very nicely, but you would have to take the peel back to toss yourself all while demanding to know why you have such a smirk on your face.

If you explain it to him, he'll definitely get a bit smug. "Who knew all it would take to prove my love to you was peeling an orange? If you needed some assurance, I would've gladly provided more for you."

He wins this one. He peeled the orange.

But...he might be asking his own favor from you later. So, minus one point for that, but they do say the devil dances in dealings, so...

7/10

Mammon

"Huh? Why do you need me to peel it for you, your hands broken or somethin'? I'm not your damn maid."

He is already peeling the orange. He is somehow managing to grumble and act like he's not doing it while he is in the process of doing it.

And if you don't have oranges on hand? Just give him any excuse to go shopping and he will take it. And not only will he peel those oranges, he'll buy them for you too.

And sure maybe he's a little ditsy and might not know what the difference between an orange, a tangerine, and a clementine is (they're all orange, dammit), but he will be buying you ALL of them just in case.

Listen, he's a man with impulse problems and an intense desire to be your number one demon.

Did he probably spend the next few hours in the store getting himself stuff as well? Probably, yeah. He see shiny, he get shiny.

But don't worry. He will peel you that orange.

And you will be eating an assortment of orange colored fruits for the next few days.

Is...this a peach?

9/10

Levi

If he's gaming, probably not. Some games can't be paused. And it's not even that he doesn't want to, he'll probably be glad to do so, but he'll do it once this round is over.

And then he'll probably forget. Which, fair, I do it too. You get into the zone and then six hours have passed. Sometimes the measure of love can't always be held behind an orange.

However!

If a controller is not in his hand and his mind is not occupied by several random colorful flashes, he might peel the orange.

BUT

If too many other people are around, he might get anxiety.

You know when you somehow manage to fumble peeling an orange? You can't manage to break the peel properly or you end up dropping it and looking like a fool?

If you've never had performance anxiety over peeling an orange, you... well that's actually really good, you must have a much more peaceful mind-- but it exists for us anxious people, okay?! It's too much pressure!

In the end, he's very situational! But that doesn't mean he refuses to peel you an orange! It would actually make him very happy to do that for you...

5/10

Satan

Very confused. Will ask too many questions before he does anything.

Are you hurt? Is the peel too tough for human fingers? If you're having a hard time using your fingers, why not get a knife or a tool to assist you? Why are you in his room rather than the kitchen? Is that not a waste of energy? What if he'd not been here, would you have wandered around?

He doesn't get it. He means well though.

He might get a little irritated, not so much at you as at himself. He feels like he's missing something.

Is this some form of human bonding? Are you afraid of the orange? What secrets does it hold?

He will peel it for you. He'll even put his book down to do so.

But please answer his questions, he can't find the logic in seeking him out just to peel a fruit for you. He can list off several other more efficient methods.

If you explain it to him, you'll see him visibly relax. So there was some deeper meaning.

Although now he might think that this form of act is some sort of love declaration. Prepare to have him peel and/or cut all your fruits from now on. Which... is actually kind of sweet. What a gentleman.

8/10

Asmo

No... with his nails?! Please. I've only worn fake nails like twice in my entire life, and doing anything like that with those little suckers hurts like hell. Why?? Tried to open a can once and thought my real nail would peel right off.

And even if he's not wearing fake nails, getting that pulpy orange peel underneath your fingernails?! Having the juice make your fingers all sticky? No. Awful. Bad texture. I've always headcanoned Asmo with texture issues, and if his are even close to being like mine, it's gonna be a no.

BUT

If you want an orange so badly, I can guarantee he knows all these cute little places around town that make delicious fruit selections! He'd probably go out and get you one of those beautiful and decorative edible fruit arrangements and make sure they somehow include lots of orange.

Or, if you don't want that and you just want a normal orange right NOW, he'll charm someone else to peel it for you, hon. Don't even worry.

And once it's peeled, to make up for not doing it himself, he'll be all to happy to feed it to you if you want him to. ~

Never underestimate the lengths he'll go to provide for you and himself at the same time.

6.5/10 I appreciate the hustle.

Beel

I... I mean... he's gonna eat it.

Love the man to death, but if you hand him an orange before you fully preface that it's yours and you just want it peeled, it's gone. He probably didn't even peel it before he ate it too. Probably just eats it like an apple.

But, but, but, he'll get you a new one. So please don't look so sad...

It might be best if you accompany him just in case, but he'll absolutely get you another one. Besides, he wants more himself now, that first one was delicious.

He'll gather a whole basket of oranges and you can share them together.

One slice for you...five for him. Another slice for you...

It make take a minute to get a full orange's worth, but it's about the attempt and the time spent. And he's technically actually peeling SO many oranges for you.

I'd also like to point out that I have actually written out a scene in one of my stories where Beel actually EXACTLY peels an orange FOR MC. WAY before this trend was a thing.

--Eventually he came across an orange, peeling off the wax shell meant to serve as extra preservation. Citrus flooded your nose. Your mouth actually watered at the scent, watching Beel strip the fruit before peeling it apart. A sniff, and then it was actually handed to you.

So he would! 100 times over! Even in my silly little side story where everyone is nearly on the brink of death and in a freezing wasteland, he would still peel an orange for you!

10/10 Minus one point for eating your orange first, plus one point for peeling you an orange in another universe.

Belphie

Y...yeah, no. No, he won't.

Or there's at least a very slim chance he will. He does get in weird moods sometimes where he wants to pamper you, but that's on his own terms and his own time.

He doesn't even peel his own oranges, as I previously stated in Lucifer's section.

If you just waltz up to him and ask him to peel it for you...there's a 95% chance he will not. Most of it being due to him being asleep. You would probably have a better chance trying to train him to peel an orange while sleepwalking. That might work. Would also probably make a good party trick.

But, he's weird at remembering details like this. Even if he doesn't act on it right now, it will be logged in his memory. You could mention something briefly once seven months ago and he'll bring it up to you and remember the conversation completely like it happened yesterday.

So, even if he doesn't peel the orange now, when he's in the mood, maybe after his nap, maybe the next day, maybe two weeks after in which you had forgotten it, he will bring you a peeled orange.

Either that or he'll do what Asmo does and make someone else peel it for you.

3/10

Diavolo

You want him to peel your orange for you? You mean... he gets to treat someone like that for once?! ABSOLUTELY.

He is all too happy to peel you an orange! This is like, groundbreaking for him. He gets to provide! Gets to hand you a tiny fruit, broken and prepared with his own two hands! Is this how Barbatos feels when he cooks?

How does one exactly peel an orange, though?... He's seen them whole like this before, but they're typically already in strips when he gets around to eating them.

Break the skin? What, like an egg?

Well...there goes your orange.

On the bright side, it seems he's very good at making orange juice.

But fear not! He'll have Barbatos bring another one!

Wait...look, see, they come pre-peeled. Oh...you mean Barbatos has been peeling all his fruits for him this entire time? He's never known the joyful luxury of unveiling and working for the literal fruits of his labor?! This will change today.

Get another orange, unpeeled, and he will do it himself this time!

It might take some personal discovery and some patience before he peels you an orange, but it will get done, he swears it!

11/10 Plus one point for wholesome life lessons and sheer determination.

Barbatos

An orange? Just a plain orange? If you wait just a moment, he could have an orange chiffon cake, or would you perhaps prefer some orange panna cotta? Orange Merengue pie? Pound cake? Made into a buttercream? A pudding? A sorbet? A sherbet? Served as a juice? Main flavor or just as a zest? Would you like a meal before dessert? Or he could always find healthier options for oranges? Would you like him to list of those options as well?

Okay, so... he overcorrects a little bit.

Bottom line is, he'd peel you an orange. He'd make an entire seven course meal based around oranges. Make it all the color orange if you'd prefer.

Like I said though, he tends to overdo it.

He falls into his royal butlery habits and misses the fact that this is supposed to be so important to you because it's so simple. Although it's cute the way an ever powerful ever perfect being can miss such a detail.

You might have to put your foot down a bit and not let yourself get carried away in the splendor. You just want this orange. This one orange, and if he could just peel it for you, that's all you want.

So he'll take his gloves off and peel it for you. He'll make sure all the extra little white strands are plucked off as well. And he double checks it for seeds.

Are you sure this is all you want? "I guess something so simple can often be taken for granted. I forget that sometimes."

12/10 He'll probably still end up making you several other orange treats and he learned a valuable lesson today. It's a win for everyone.

Simeon

Are you kidding me?

This man probably brought the orange with him. You probably didn't even need to bring it up! He's single dad with two one kid and a sorcerer. He's like that sweet mom who always has certain things on hand. Medicine? Bandages? Spare cash? Candy? Gum? He's got it. He puts the Guardian in guardian angel.

You want that orange? He'll peel that orange, you just hold on. Let's make sure your hands are clean. Use this hand sanitizer he brought with him. Here, have a granola bar while you're at it. Are you hungry? You didn't skip lunch, did you? Here, take this water bottle, you look a bit dehydrated.

Oh dear, and your hands feel so dry! Here, he brought some lotion.

This angel is 100% fully here for you. You are about to be so taken care of.

Not even oranges. You want your apples fully peeled and sliced? Got it. Want something pitted? He can do that too. He'd be willing to stain his fingers and clothes on a pomegranate for you. How is he doing this even outside of the house? Magic or something probably.

He'd pack you an orange in a cute little bag with a hand written note and a short poem.

This man is a real one.

100/10 He definitely thinks that LOL means lots of love.

Solomon

Are...you sure you know what you're doing? He will absolutely peel you an orange, but at what cost?

If you're not careful, not only will he peel you an orange, but he'll add some of his Special Solomon Spices to make your experience all the more... thrilling.

Quite like how thrilling bungee jumping in the dark could be...

Also, he might just try to peel it with magic, which, while nice of him, defeats the purpose of the entire test.

You'll have to specify he's to do it by hand, and keep an unblinking, ever-careful eye on him to make sure he doesn't 'enhance' the flavor.

But, all in all, he does it. Quite happily too, one might add.

Are you sure you just want an orange? He'd be glad to whip something up for you if you're feeling peckish!

You kind of... tempt fate with this one.

2/10 One point for wanting to peel the orange, one point for trying to go the extra mile. But... well... Will you survive is the thing? You might want to try to measure his love for you using different non-edible methods.

[captainfern]

omg omg cap please i’m begging you to write this (if you have time)

HAVE YOU SEEN that specific scene of “Six” with Barry Sloane where him and his wife are trying fertility treatments and he basically has to j off and fill a cup and then his wife comes and calls him “my big bear” and man’s already busting with just that??? WELL-

can we get smth like this with Price? Like it doesn’t have to be that specific scenario just smth where his s/o is jerking him off and calls him a name, and he immediately comes, but that’s exactly not the end of it? YOU GET IT

i’ve been thinking about it an unhealthy amount these past days… I’m literally foaming at the mouth.

Anonymous asked: Been seeing a lot of Bear appreciation on here, so what about... C. Price and reader trying to (naturally, of course) conceive? Maybe he's on injury leave or something! He gets hurt and now is the perfect time to tell him she wants him to retire and put a baby in her >:) I just see that scene from SIX and go feral every time. Breeding kink go wild 🙏

Anonymous asked: Dbf!price x reader mating press? Or or or price taking her somewhere nice for dinner and they go back to his place and he leads her through it while doin the nasty….

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In Utero

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“In Utero” Album by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - you and price are trying for a baby lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.9k • warnings - fem!reader, civilian!reader, some possessive!price, handjobs, unprotected piv (obviously), praise, breeding kink, creampies, mating press, talks of pregnancy n babies blah blah blah, body worship, breeding kink (again cause i'm being so fr), price calls you mama at one point (*whispering* is this a mommy kink? i don't know. i don't think so? but idk take this how you will), strong language

the amount of breeding kink related requests i get for this man is crazy 😭 some of you should be studied cause oh my god (i am not complaining)

killing three birds with one stone with this one. changed it a little but hope you all enjoy :)

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It had been a long few days on base, and Price had been looking forward to coming home to you.

He loved nothing more than returning home to you after work. You'd greet him, looking absolutely fucking stunning, and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and cradle him to you. He'd breath you in, absorb your presence, his mind running a million miles an hour as he hugged you back.

You were his. And he was so happy.

Price never considered himself a very possessive person. But when it came to you, his wife, he felt an overwhelming urge to ensure everyone knew you were his.

He was so, so proud of you. He's always show you off, worship the ground you walked on. He'd hold your hand, or guide you with a hand to the base of your spine in public. He wasn't afraid to pin your body next to his in a crowd, either.

It was much the same in the bedroom.

Price would worship your entire body. He'd kiss up and down the length of it, from head to toe. He'd take extra care in massaging different parts of you that he loved– your tits, your waist, your hips, your arse, your thighs. He'd smooth his fingers over your skin, trailing kisses in their wake, whispering sweet praise and affirmations as he did so.

When he'd finally reach your face, he'd kiss you with as much passion and force as the sea. Cradling your head, holding your face, moving his lips warmly against yours, probing your mouth with his tongue, deepening the kiss so he could be closer to you.

He loved you.

You were his, and he was yours.

•º•

You had gone for a night out with your friends, leaving Price alone at home.

To keep him occupied in the silence of the house, he cleaned and cooked, listening to his music. He cooked up a meal that he stored in the fridge for later, then he proceeded to clean what he could of the house. He wanted to ensure you got home from having fun and didn't have to lift a finger.

And so Price could have you all to himself for the night.

You returned home hours later, the sun sinking past the horizon. You entered your home, your social battery ticking downwards, and Price was in front of you as soon as the front door was closed and locked.

He wrapped you in his arms, your face to his chest, and you returned the hug as he placed his chin on the top of your head.

"You had fun, sweetheart?" Price asked, taking a deep breath after pressing his nose to the crown of your head.

You hummed into his chest. "Yeah, it was nice."

You pulled out of the hug, and Price held your hand as you walked him into the living room. The both of your flopped down onto the couch. You couldn't help but admire the way he spread his legs when he sat, and the expansion of his thighs beneath his sweatpants as they made contact with the couch cushions.

You squeezed your thighs together, heat blooming in your core. A giddy, almost nervous feeling swelled in your chest as you locked eyes with your husband. You chewed on your bottom lip, fighting a flustered smile.

He looked so good.

Annnndddd you were ovulating.

Yep.

Evident by the fact that at just one look from your husband, one smile, your underwear was completely fucking soaked.

Price released a breathy laugh. "What?"

You whined, still biting your lip and smiling. "You look so handsomeeeee." You said, dragging out the final word.

He laughed again, eyes twinkling. Your eyes scanned his face, then you were crawling across the couch. He shifted, leaning back so you could crawl onto his lap, arse across his thick thighs. You ran your hands up and down his torso, feeling the smooth ridges of his muscle beneath his shirt. He hummed in the back of his throat, eyes closing, as you dragged your nails down the soft bumps of his abs.

"John, can I touch you?" You asked, hands coming to rest on the waistband of his sweatpants, toying with the ridges of the elastic.

"You are touching me." Price joked, opening his eyes. He settled his hands on your hips and squeezed gently.

You rolled your eyes. "I want your cock."

Price couldn't help but laugh through his moan as you shimmied his sweatpants and boxers down, pulling out his hardening cock. He groaned deeply as you pumped him a couple of times to full stiffness, before swiping your thumb across the head.

His hips bucked, twitching against the couch. You continued to fist him tightly while leaning over and letting a string of saliva fall from your mouth. It dripped across the tip of his cock, and Price let out a throaty moan, the grip on your hips tightening.

You used your saliva to make your hand glide, pumping him quickly. Usually, your stokes would be languid, seductive, as you prepped to either take him in your mouth or in your cunt. But this time, your movements were purposely fast, and the grunts in Price's quick breathing was an indicator that he liked it.

The wet clicks were consecutive as you stroked his cock from base to tip– squeezing tighter near the base, twisting near the tip. Price grumbled contentedly as you did so, beads of pre-cum leaking from his slit. He watched you with hooded eyes, a fucked out smile on his face as you jerked him off.

"Haven't even been home five minutes and you were so desperate for my cock, huh, sweetheart?" Price mused, hips jerking and cock twitching as you sped up the movement of your hand. He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. He forced them open, watching your hand for a second, before finding your face. He smiled, leaning forward to try and kiss you. "Mmm this is your cock, isn't it, baby? You can have it whenever you want..."

He kissed you, and you let him. You let his tongue lick along the seam of your lips, and you allowed him to coax your mouth open, a moan passing from his to yours. You continued fisting his cock, heating up against your palm, the tip flushed and glistening.

You pulled out of the kiss and with his eyes closed, Price rested his forehead against yours, mouth agape. He opened his eyes eventually, looking down at where you rapidly stroked his throbbing cock. He let out a quiet groan, flecks of pre-cum splattering onto his shirt at the pace at which you jerked him off.

He was close, his release building higher with each stroke of your hand. He held your hips tighter, grinding you onto his lap, and you moaned quietly, sweetly. He groaned in response, lifting his mouth to try and kiss you. You backed up a bit, enough so his lips were just brushing yours.

"John?" You whispered, and he released a quiet groan at that.

"Mmm?" He didn't have the cognitive ability to reply with words at his point, solely focussed on the way you were stroking his cock, and his looming orgasm.

You pressed a brief kiss to his lips, then pulled back. He watched you, eyelids drooping, eyes glassy, and you couldn't help but smile. You leaned back in, and whispered, "I want you to put a baby in me."

Price let out a loud, guttural groan. "Holy fuck."

He came abruptly, thick ropes painting your hand and his shirt. He moaned your name, cock twitching as strings of white dribbled down your fingers and across his now semi-hard length. Price pressed forward, kissing you, and you pumped him a couple more times before you were retracting your hand. You moved your head away, and licked his cum off your fingers. His eyes rolled, and he slumped back against the couch with a groan.

"You liked that, huh?" You teased, creeping your fingers beneath his shirt and slowly pushing it up, revealing the dark happy trail that led from his navel to his pelvis.

He hummed his agreement as you pulled his shirt further, and he sat up, lifting his arms so you could pull it off all the way. You tossed it aside before running the flat of your hands up and down his body. He hummed again, this time in content as you massaged the flesh of his pectorals, running your thumbs over his nipples and making him jerk against the couch.

"D'you mean what you said?" Price suddenly asked as you dragged your nails down the grooves in his abs. Goosebumps raised along his skin.

"What, about putting a baby in me?" You smiled, and he groaned, head flopping backwards again. You ran your fingers through the hair of his happy trail, following it down to his cock, still sticky with his release. You took hold of it again, and you felt it slowly hardening. Your smile grew. "Oh, I'm serious, John."

You pumped him slowly, gently, until he was fully hard in your hand once more. Price's breathing was laboured as he kept his head tossed back, eyes screwed shut. His chest rose and fell.

You stripped yourself of your own shirt and bra while he was occupied, managing to do so while still gently stroking his cock. Then, you raised yourself, and wiggled your skirt off– you had to use both hands to do this.

With your hand gone from his cock, Price pulled his head forward to see what you were doing. He released a breathy moan, immediately bringing his hands to your waist. You laughed as he dragged you forward and buried his face between your tits. You threaded your hands into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp as he kissed the soft skin of your chest.

His hands rubbed your waist, your lower back. Then, one hand still on your lower back, the other came to rest on your tummy, and he rubbed it gently.

"Wanna get you pregnant," he whispered into your sternum. "Mhm... mhm... wanna put a baby in you."

You felt your core throb red-hot at his words, your entire body thrumming with sexual energy that really, really needed to be released. You still had your underwear on, and you could feel your arousal dripping into the soft cotton fabric.

Face still in between the mounds of your breasts, Price dragged his hands away from your stomach and back and hooked his fingers beneath the waistline of your underwear. He slowly pulled them down until they were mid-thigh and couldn't go any further with the way you were sprawled across his lap.

Price shifted his head to the side, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he took two fingers and ran them up and down your wet slit. You keened, looking down at him with a whimper of his name. He looked up at you, mouth suctioned around your tit, as he dragged two fingers through your folds.

He retracted, moving to repeat his actions on your other nipple as he gently pushed his two fingers inside of you. You released a moan from low in your throat, holding yourself steady on your husbands shoulders as he fingered you open. He continued to watch you, tongue and teeth against your sensitive flesh, revelling in the way your tight walls clutched at his fingers.

Drops of arousal pooled past his knuckles and through the lines in his palm. He angled his hand so the drops dripped onto his lap, and the heel of his palm ground against your puffy clit. You gasped, hand shooting upwards to tug on Price's hair, his teeth scraping the bud of your nipple at the same time.

"John, I need you." You whined, trying desperately to grind yourself onto the heel of his palm. He let you, the pressure on your swollen clit making your eyes drop closed and your mouth drop open.

"What do you want from me?" He asked in a whisper, curling his fingers inside you and making your body alight with pleasure. The base of your tummy drew tight as the pads of his fingers worked that spot inside you.

"Need your cock," you whined impatiently, your climax just inches away from you. "Please, please, need you to fill me up."

You clenched around his fingers as he continued to hit that spot inside you. He applied more pressure to your clit, throbbing in tandem with the heartbeat in your chest. Price changed the angle of your sitting arrangement, so he could now comfortably kiss up the column of your neck.

"Need my cock, eh? Just need me to fill you up?" He murmured into your ear as he fucked his fingers into you. "I'll fill you up, sweetheart, I will. Fill you up niceeee and full. Fill this pretty tummy with my kids, eh, baby?"

His words made you come around his fingers without much warning. You pushed yourself against him, orgasm knocking you off balance as it wracked through you. Price fingered you through it, his other hand on your lower back and keeping your body close to his. He kissed you and although you struggled to kiss him back, you were still moaning his name into his mouth.

Price kissed you again, and then peppered kisses across your face as he took his fingers out of you. He grabbed your hips in both hands and helped you off his lap, standing you on your feet as he followed. Your underwear dropped the rest of the way down your thighs, and you quickly kicked them across the room as you grabbed Price by the shoulders and pulled him back into you.

Price's sweatpants and boxers fell and he kicked them away too as he kissed you, wrapping his arms around you. Still kissing, he led you out of the living room and eventually, the two of you made it to your bedroom, breathless.

He pushed you down onto your bed, and you giggled as he immediately followed after you, pinning your body beneath his. The weight of him made your cunt throb, arousal sticky against your inner thighs. The warm, solid form of his cock against your inner thigh made you moan, scratching your nails down his back.

"Can't wait for you to have my kids... our kids..." Price drawled between lazy kisses as he notched the head of his cock at your dripping cunt, smearing your arousal around your hole. "You're gonna look so pretty as a mum, aren't you, baby? Gonna be such a good mama."

Price pushed into you in one solid thrust, knocking the air from your lungs. You arched your back, meshing closer to him, as the tip of his cock knocked up against your cervix. You mewled, grasping at his back, as he dragged his cock out. The sensation was slow and heavy and sparked something deep in your stomach. When he was all the way out, he playfully tapped the head of his cock to your clit a couple of times. You choked on your moan, before he was filling you up again.

"John–" You moaned outwardly, sickly sweet and making him grunt above you. He doubled his efforts, slamming into you, the rhythm rocking the bed against the wall.

His fat cock split you open, stretching your wet hole around him and pushing up into your womb. You could feel him in your stomach. You felt so full.

Price pressed a hand to your lower stomach, admiring the subtle outline of his cock beneath the soft mound of your belly. He moaned loudly, pressing harder, and the feeling made you moan as well.

"John, fuck, oh my god." You whimpered as he thrust into you, heavy and rough, dragging along the tight, wet walls of your cunt. You clenched around him, your hands desperately trying to bring him closer to you. His chest hair against your tits, his hands on your stomach and hip– you wanted, no, needed him close.

He removed his hand from your stomach, instead gripping your hips as he fucked you into the mattress. He was grunting and groaning above you, eyes never leaving the way your body and face were reacting.

"That's a good girl, taking it so well... Always take it so well, sweetheart, don't you?" Price murmured, eyes on your face. "Such a good girl taking my cock. S'like this pretty cunt was made for it, eh, baby?"

For emphasis, he increased his pace. The tip of his cock slammed into your sweet spot, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. His thrusts were drawing wet sounds from you, and you could feel your arousal being spread across your lower arse and inner thighs as he moved.

Your second orgasm approached quickly. Price fucked you hard, his noises of pleasure above you making you flutter around him. Your clit throbbed with a heartbeat, a thin layer of sweat settling over your naked body.

"John, John–" You tried to warn him, but failed when your orgasm slammed through you mid-sentence, rendering you speechless. You gushed around him, and he moaned, hips stuttering as your cunt squeezed around his cock, your orgasm dribbling out of you with each timed thrust.

He moaned your name. "Mmm there you go, there you go. My perfect girl, that's it. Feels good, sweetheart?"

You nodded, dizzy. "Yeah, y-yeah, fuck, so good, John, so good."

Price hummed, pleased. As you babbled, he shifted off of you for a second so he could hook his hands beneath your knees. Cock still stuffed inside you, he bent your legs and pressed them up against your chest, making you release a series of airy whimpers. He pressed his body heavily against you, holding the backs of your knees and literally folding you in half.

He began his thrusts again, and your eyes rolled at the new angle– his cock hit further, deeper inside you. The remnants of your orgasm were loud and wet as he rutted into you desperately, deep grunts falling from his mouth.

"Gotta fuck you deep, baby," he whispered, voice low. "Gotta stuff you full of my cock so it takes. Want it to take... want it to fucking take..." He punctuated each sentence with an extra heavy thrust, cock dragging against your slick walls. He groaned. "Gonna get you pregnant, sweetheart. Gonna get you fat with my kids. That's what you want, yeah? Want me to breed this pretty cunt?"

You hummed a yes. His words were making you even dizzier than you already were. You moaned and moaned, pleasure poisoning your veins as he fucked you towards a third orgasm. Your body was hot, damp with sweat. Price was warm too, strands of wet hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at you.

"Fuck, fuck," Price whispered. "You're my good girl, baby, you're my good girl. Want you to come one more time for me, okay? One more time n' then I'm gonna–" He cut himself off with a moan, but you understood.

Your body shook beneath him, your legs tightening in his grasp. Then, with a shattering moan of his name, you came around his cock. Your third orgasm fizzed through you, and it took a while to fizzle out as he rutted into you nonstop. The feeling of static pleasure lingered as he chased his high, and you whimpered quietly in his ear as he fucked your sopping cunt.

Your husband was cursing under his breath, moaning your name too. His balls slapped against the curve of your arse, sticky with your arousal, and the hands on the backs of your knees gripped tighter as his orgasm loomed. He imagined the future– you, round with his baby and looking so fucking pretty. He moaned at the thought, cock throbbing inside you.

"Oh, fuck– fuck, m'gonna come, mama," it slipped out through a moan. "M'gonna breed this pretty cunt nice and full. M'gonna give you my kids–"

Buried to the hilt inside you, Price came. A lot.

He filled you, just like he promised, and you felt the thick, hot ropes flood past your cervix. You moaned his name, and he slammed his mouth onto yours, shushing you with his tongue. He continued thrusting gently, stuffing his seed further inside you, plugging it up against your womb with the head of his cock. He groaned when you squeezed around him, gently dropping your legs from him.

Price pulled out of the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "Fuck, I love you."

"I love you too." You replied breathlessly, and the both of you lay in silence for a moment, panting like dogs in heat.

Fitting, really. The thought made you smile.

Price groaned into your neck, sucking a kiss to the skin. You pet his head gently.

"What's the matter?" You asked him, soothing the crown of his head as he bit and sucked at the curve of your shoulder.

"I just imagined you pregnant again," he uttered against you. "And now I'm hard again."

You laughed. "John, oh my god."

•º•

Several months of... trying... later, you sat in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hands. Happy tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked at the two lines.

Outside, Price knocked on the door. "You alright, sweetheart?"

You sniffled. "Yeah, m'fine."

"You sure?" Price asked as soon as he heard the slight waver in your voice. "If you're not feeling well, we can tell the boys we can reschedule dinner–"

You opened the door of the bathroom with the test behind your back. Price noticed the tears, cupping your face.

"What's wrong?"

You had always planned on revealing your future pregnancy to your husband in an elaborate way. You'd dreamed of it, actually. But, overwhelmed with excitement and relief, you simply took his hands off your face, and placed the pregnancy test in his palm. He took it, confused for a moment, eyeing it skeptically.

Then, his eyes widened, tears immediately springing to his waterline as he looked down at you.

"You're pregnant?" He was crying.

"Yeah." You were crying too.

He wrapped you in his arms, pressing you gently to him and burying his face in your hair, sobbing with happiness. Your heart clenched, the excitement rolling off of him. After a long moment, he pulled back, placing a sweet kiss to your lips.

"Told you I'd get you pregnant." He smiled, winking.

You rolled your eyes.

He laughed, then looked at the test again. He beamed, eyes twinkling. Then, he looked down at you again, eyes shining with mischief. You narrowed your eyes jokingly at him.

"What?" You fought a smile.

"Are we sure this is accurate?" He smiled. "We might, you know, have to try a couple more times, just to be sure."

"John!" You laughed.

And the two of you did have to reschedule dinner with the boys. You both got distracted.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

[mrs-weasley-reid]

TRICKY BLUNDER

Spencer Reid x exbau!reader ↳ part 1 here

Synopsis: Mistakes always reveal what the heart really craves. And Spencer wasn't an exception as he desperately makes things right with you. Word Count: almost 4k WARNING: a sprinkle of angst and a cup of fluff. a few curse words. A/N: had two drafts, but this made the most sense in my head. not my gif ctto :)

You gave Spencer a curt nod, "Hey."

Spencer's chest tinged at the sight of your smile. The kind of smile that gave him the impression that you two were absolutely fine and back to normal.

Hotch invited you to assist on the case that's been keeping the entire BAU team stressed out for the past three days. He thought you'd be a great help in increasing the team's morale and, of course, on the case.

Spencer took your arrival as a good sign. It has only been a month since you left the BAU. Maybe you'd change your mind and come back to the team. Besides, you wouldn't have joined them if you were still mad at him, right?

He thought he was getting ahead of himself. He knew he was getting ahead of himself. Taking the tiniest detail of your simple nod and civil smile into a desperate hope.

Your last exchange has been eating Spencer alive. The fallout repeatedly played out inside his head over and over in hopes that he could change the ending. He couldn't. Even an average person knew that they could never change what's been done.

You, on the other hand, did not dwell on your interaction with Spencer. In fact, as soon as you gave him some sort of acknowledgment, you immediately jumped in on a conversation with Emily. You were only being polite. It was in your nature.

If you were given the chance to boast, you would've said Hotch was almost begging you to help with the case. But you kept the idea to yourself and arrived with fresh sets of eyes. After all, the case specifically needed your specialty: human trafficking and victimology.

And fresh sets of eyes, you did bring.

While the others were occupied giving you a warm welcome, an arm suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, taking everyone by surprise, Spencer the most.

"I barely found parking," A man said to you in almost a whisper but loud enough for everyone to hear and gawk about.

Your eyebrows narrowed, "You're an FBI agent. How hard could it be to show your badge and get a spot?" You queried, forgetting about an entire team right in front of you.

The man grinned, "I wanted to prove I could find a spot without my toy." He spoke with you with such ease, as if you've known each other for years.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. If you only weren't in public, you would've smacked your forehead from the utter disbelief you felt. That's when you remembered that it wasn't just the two of you.

"Oh, shoot! I mean…" You gestured at the man next to you, "Guys, meet Agent Ezekiel." You went on to briefly explain that you offered Hotch another pair of hands to help with the case, thus the agent's appearance.

Although you were clear about Ezekiel's purpose, everyone couldn't help but take note of his arm around you. The only man they saw wrap their arm around your shoulders was Emily during an undercover operation, where she pretended to be a guy.

Spencer was not a fan.

"And Zeke, meet the behavioral analysis unit. Agents Hotchner, Rossi, Jareau, Prentiss, Morgan, and… Dr. Reid." You introduced them accordingly, paying attention to each one of the agents.

"Mr. Genius! Nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you." Ezekiel exclaimed, stretching a hand out to Spencer.

Spencer stared at the hand in front of him, "Clearly not enough." He lifted his hands out of his back pockets only to transfer them to the front pockets. "And it's Dr. Reid."

He couldn't help but shift his focus between you and the obnoxious arm on your shoulders. He wasn't exactly certain why he was feeling that way. He guessed it had something to do with the fact that he didn't get the chance to speak with you.

Ezekiel looked at his hand and retracted it with a shrug. He leaned against you, "You said he was fun." His face was of pure confusion.

You lightly shoved his face away from you, removing his arm on your shoulders in the process. "I promise, he's more helpful than he looks." You had the mistake of looking at Spencer as you spoke with a playful smile, immediately diverting your gaze to anyone else but him.

The reflexive habit was still present. You always had a knack for aiming for Spencer's approval of your humor. After years of trying to make him laugh in spite of feeling depressed about Maeve, adjusting your humor to align with his became second nature.

Spencer found himself smiling a bit at the millisecond of attention you gave him. He missed it. He missed you.

If the universe was giving him a sign, you standing in front of him was one big slap of a sign. This was his chance to make things right with you.

He'd do anything to make it up to you.

His first attempt was to join any conversation you had with anyone on the team. He tried. He really tried to get your attention, but somehow, before he could even breathe a word out, Ezekiel pops out of nowhere and takes up all your attention.

"Why can't you do it yourself?" You groaned yet stood up from your seat. Spencer wished you didn't.

Ezekiel ruffled your hair, "Less complaining, more doing. You lost the bet, remember?" He laughed, leaning against his seat.

Derek swore he saw Spencer's eye twitch inside out after seeing Ezekiel ruffle your hair.

You stomped out of the conference room, mumbling, "Stupid bet," under your throat.

"You would've beaten Morgan up if he asked you the same thing."

You jumped out of shock, spilling a bit of the hot water on the counter. Spencer followed you out, standing awkwardly next to you. You silently wiped the water off the counter and quickly stirred the cup.

With one last tap of the spoon on the edge of the cup, you turned to Spencer, "Just be glad it wasn't you." You deadpanned, walking away without giving him the chance to say a word.

First attempt: failed.

You clearly weren't in the mood to speak with him, especially when you hadn't gotten your usual coffee. You hated precinct coffee to the bone. Thus, you tortured yourself from lack of caffeine and exhaustion.

This sparked Spencer's second attempt to gain your friendship back: offer you coffee. Your coffee order has been in the back of his mind for the past month. It turns out he liked your odd coffee concoction after finding himself with two cups of coffee every morning the first two weeks you were gone.

The first two days were purely out of habit. The rest were out of the delusion that you'd be sitting on your old desk when he gets in the office.

So, he could only imagine the dejection when you arrived the next morning with an unfamiliar coffee order and bright laughter as you told Ezekiel how his coffee order had changed your life for the better.

Spencer constantly expressed his disapproval. Of course, you weren't happy about it. What was worse was you didn't know why. And worse than that, he couldn't figure out why.

Or so he thought.

As soon as he found an opening, Spencer pulled you into the side. He brought the two of you into an empty interrogation room.

"What are you doing?" You snatched your arm from his grip. You weren't stupid. You noticed Spencer's fixation for your attention. You did your best to be civil, but he was making it very difficult for you.

"You've barely been in the ViCAP unit, and you're already smitten with your superior. I think it's safe to say it does not look good on you. You don't even know whether he's a decent guy." Spencer gulped. He knew exactly how stupid he sounded.

You blinked loudly and chuckled, "So?"

Spencer straightened his back and averted his eyes away from yours, "So… I suggest you…" He trailed off. He didn't plan this far. He should've planned farther than this. It wasn't exactly very clever of him, and your glare made him dumb.

"Suggest me what?" You crossed your arms on your chest. When Spencer didn't speak for fifteen seconds, you continued, "You have no right to tell me what looks good for me. Or anything about me. You made that pretty clear, Reid. Stick with it."

You purposely bumped into his shoulder on your way out, leaving him dumbfounded and dry-mouthed.

His chest felt tight as if a hand was clenching it into the tiniest crumple of paper. He closed his eyes in agony as he whispered, "Damn it," running his fingers through his hair.

With the 187 IQ he's been bragging about, he couldn't imagine his own disappointment when he failed to realize his feelings for you.

You have been nothing but kind to him. When he was grieving, you were the only one he wanted to confide in. You were the only one who could make him smile. The only one who could make him laugh with an average humor. The one that made painful things less miserable.

And without him knowing, he fell for your kind smiles and warm company.

He became addicted to you.

Spencer did his best to avoid it, but he couldn't help himself. How could someone not fall for someone amazing like you? Clearly not him.

Your friendship felt more important to him, though. It always was. It was too important that he spent his time finding a fix for his infatuation. Shoving his growing feelings for you as if it were a crime.

But you just couldn't let him not fall for you. You didn't even try. You were just you, and he was just one of your willing victims. It was inevitable.

The deeper he fell for you, the more he wanted not to.

He was a weakling, a stupid coward, and irrevocably in love with you.

So, was he disappointed that you fell for the genius prodigy? Or was he disappointed that he never realized how deep he'd fallen for you until you left?

The next day was Spencer's worst nightmare.

You were at gunpoint.

Close and yet so far.

"Come any closer, and I'll shoot her!" The unsub shouted, holding you by the neck with his arm wrapped around it.

Spencer felt his hands clammy. You were too close to the unsub for him to find an opening. Backup was still a few minutes away. He didn't know what to do.

He took a deep breath, "No one needs to get hurt. Just let her go, and we can talk this out." He kept his gun pointed at the unsub.

He made sure you knew that. He never wanted you to think that he'd ever point a gun at you, even if you weren't already.

The unsub's grip tightened around your neck, and you could barely manage to let out a gasp. Tears began to spill from your eyes as air dissipated from your lungs. Your consciousness was hanging by a thread.

"Shut the hell up!" The unsub shifted the tip of his gun towards Spencer. He glanced at you and at Spencer's pleading face. He laughed, "If you let me go, I'll make sure someone rich buys her. You don't have to worry. I'll make sure they treat her well."

"Don't!" You choked, "Don't listen to him, Spence!" You were stammering, almost unable to form words.

Hearing you call him by his first name for the first time in a while gave Spencer a concussion. A string of déjà vu coursed through his body. Spencer was more terrified than he already was. He couldn't lose you again. He couldn't go through it again.

You could see it in his eyes. You knew that look from miles away. You've seen the same look etched in the deepest vault in your mind. The only thing was, you never imagined that you'd ever be the reason for it.

And just as you always have… you chose him.

You focused on his brown eyes. You took a deep breath and met Spencer's gaze, "Take the blunder."

His eyes widened. He felt his heart quicken. Spencer vigorously shook his head, tightening his grip on his gun.

After spending time together in his gloomy apartment, you and Spencer found enjoyment in playing chess. A few phrases stuck to heart, inside jokes that filled both of you with mindless giggles.

What used to be a funny term turned into something Spencer feared the most at that moment.

You were asking him to shoot you.

"No! I won't do that!" Spencer shouted, shaking his head to the point of dizziness. There must be another way. He needed to find another way to save you.

"What the fuck are you two talking about?!" The unsub pointed the gun back at your temple. This time, he made sure you felt the cold metal on your skin.

Both you and Spencer knew that the unsub was too far gone to be reasonable. Your plan was the only plan that'd work. He had to shoot you and let the bullet through to hit the unsub down. Of course, it wasn't a perfect one.

But it'd save many lives and his, and you were content with that idea alone. Except Spencer wasn't.

You closed your eyes, "Spencer, do it!" You begged, suffocating. "Take the fucking blunder! Now!"

Spencer didn't notice his watery eyes, fixing his vision solely on you. His hands were shaking. His body was ice cold. He could hear you and your fading breath. He aimed his gun at your shoulder, steadying his stance.

A bright flash and two loud strikes prompted you and the unsub to fall to the floor.

Hotch came into view across Spencer, pointing his gun to where the unsub used to chokehold you.

Spencer flew to your side, taking you in his arms as sobs spilled out of his lips. "No, no, no, no. Not again, no. Please, no." He brushed the hair off your face, holding your cheek.

A chuckle curved the ends of your lips, "You're a horrible shot." Your eyes were still closed as you felt a small sting on your shoulder grow as it bled out.

His breath hitched. Spencer chuckled a cry as he pulled you into a hug. It was so tight and yet gentle enough to let you catch your breath. "I thought I was going to lose you," He whispered. You never thought Spencer would ever hug you tighter than he already was. "I didn't— I don't want to lose you."

Soon, Spencer had to let you go as the paramedics came to your aid. They dragged you out where everyone waited in anticipation.

Ezekiel was the first to run to you, "You alright?" He replaced Spencer's spot on your side.

"I'll live," you shrugged, regretting it immediately as you felt a painful shock travel from your shoulder. You cursed under your breath.

"Stop moving, dumbass." Ezekiel scolded, turning to the paramedics and asking them if there was any way he could help.

Spencer felt empty at the sight. His heart shattered at the sight of someone else taking care of you. But compared to Ezekiel, he had no chance. And it broke Spencer even more.

But that didn't mean he couldn't try to befriend you.

So he chose friendship. He always did, after all.

He visited you the next morning, the first one to arrive as soon as visiting hours began.

"Hey," Spencer flashed a thin smile.

You placed the book you were reading down on your lap, returning his smile, "Hey."

This time, Spencer knew you weren't just being polite. It made his heart swell from relief. He still had a chance to make things right.

He walked inside the room, placing a small bouquet of white daisies on the bedside table. Spencer pointed at your book, "I have a book just like that." He started, attempting to make casual conversation.

"It's actually yours," You flipped the pages, revealing thousands of annotations. You only knew one person who did that. "It was my favorite. I couldn't let it go…" You gently wiped the cover.

George Orwell's 1984 novel was the first book Spencer ever lent you. As you packed your stuff from your old desk, you couldn't help but pick up one book to keep.

Spencer looked around, "Where's Agent Ezekiel?" He wondered out loud. Maybe too loud. The name rolled off his tongue with subtle disgust. He felt conflicted about the guy's absence from your side but was also relieved that he got to have you to himself.

"He's talking to my aunt," You replied nonchalantly, refraining yourself from shrugging.

His eyebrows furrowed, "Your aunt? Don't you mean your mom?"

You shook your head, looking at him oddly. "Last I heard, Zeke's my cousin, not my brother."

Spencer's eyebrows lifted over his forehead, "Ah, right. Yeah, that'd be weird…" He gave his best to sound casual while he internally screamed in his head. If only he could do a somersault without breaking every bone in his body and looking stupid, he would.

"Imagine the horror," You scoffed, bringing the book up to continue reading.

He watched you silently for a moment. He never knew why he thought a friend was all he was ever going to see you as. It must be the stupidest idea he's ever had.

Spencer bit his lower lip, his hands clenched on the side of your bed, "I—" He bit his tongue, unsure how to continue or how to start.

You turned to him with raised eyebrows, "Hmm? D'you say something?" You closed the book, giving him all the attention he has been dying to get for the past week.

"I—uh…" He swallowed the lump in his throat, "I know it's way too late to say this, but," Spencer wet his lips and met your gaze, "I'm sorry for being a jerk and—"

"It's okay, Spence," You smiled, cutting him off. "I did throw my feelings at you out of nowhere, so I kind of understand—"

Spencer cut you off, "Still doesn't it make it right for me to be an asshole. It's not like you—"

You shook your head, "But I was being unreasonable. I had no right to stop you from—"

It was like a game. Both of you kept cutting each other off like an indecisive scale.

Spencer couldn't take it anymore and grabbed your face, giving you a quick, soft kiss on your lips. "Just shut up for a second…" His breath fanned on your face, "Please…" He rested his forehead on yours and began to speak as soon as he felt you nod. "I'm sorry for being a jerk. I'm sorry for reacting like a coward. And I'm sorry for being stupid." He spoke in a rush as if he knew you'd talk over him as soon as you had the chance to.

"I'm sorry I said I was disappointed in you. I made a blunder…" You laughed at his joke. "I thought if I turned you down, I'd never have to worry about losing you. I was obviously wrong." He playfully rolled his eyes, only widening your grin. "I was falling for you, and I chickened out—"

You felt giddy. You couldn't stop the grin on your face. Your eyes couldn't help but stare at his lips. You did your best to listen to his sweet words, but damn were you easily distracted by him.

Apologies after apologies, sweet words after sappy sentiments. You grew too impatient. He was talking too much.

"Spencer, just say you love me and kiss me," You interjected, pulling his shirt to get him closer.

He laughed softly. A sound that made your heart skip a beat. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, tilting your head higher.

"I love you… I'm in love with you."

Spencer felt so good to finally admit it: to you and to himself. He pulled you in once more and kissed you again, longer this time.

He couldn't get enough of it, enough of you. He only pulled away when a nurse came in to check on you, blushing like a red beet.

Not a second after, his phone rang. The team was looking for him and wondering where he was, emphasizing the fact that they were to fly in forty minutes.

Spencer went back into the room, low-spirited. He didn't want to leave you just yet. You had barely forgiven him, and he barely knocked some sense into his stubborn head. He wanted to stay and make up for the month he'd missed.

But duty calls, so he sat silently as the jet took off the runway, fiddling with the loose string on his cuff. A snapping sound pulled him out of his trance.

"Reid," Derek called out as he sat on the left seat across Spencer. "How'd it go?" Derek queried.

"How'd what go?" Spencer's eyebrows raised. What could Derek possibly mean?

Derek looked at him as if Spencer was crazy, "You said you'd go to the hospital to get your migraine checked out. Is everything alright?"

JJ heard their conversation, turning on her seat, "Didn't you get checked out last week? Is it getting worse?" She worriedly asked, joining the discussion.

Spencer's ears turned pink as he quickly glanced at JJ, "Y-yeah... I mean, no. I'm fine." He stuttered, clearing his throat.

Emily squinted at the boy genius' stutter. She wasn't as smart as him, but she knew him well enough to know when he was lying. "Which hospital did you go to?" She raised her eyebrows.

"The... one on..." Spencer wasn't prepared to take the hot seat. His mind was still clouded by the thought of you. It was like he was under the influence, unable to get his head straight.

"The one where she's staying?" Emily prompted.

"Yeah, the one where she's staying—wait who?" Spencer was taken aback.

Emily grinned, catching a glimpse of a purple hue on Spencer's skin hiding behind his collar. "I think he's fine," She told JJ and Derek. He looked at Spencer, "You're fine, right?"

Spencer hesitantly nodded his head.

Derek's eyebrows knitted, "What are you on about?" He turned to Emily, who was sitting next to him.

"When you're stressed out, what do you usually do?" Emily raised her hand before letting Derek answer, "With Savannah." She smirked.

"Damn, Prentiss. I didn't know you were that curious about my sex life." Derek replied sarcastically.

"No," Emily smacked her forehead. She decided not to explain herself any further. She looked at the genius across him, "So, how is she?" When Spencer gave her a confused look, she rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. Stop acting like you didn't just make out with her."

Spencer looked down and giggled silently. Busted. It was your fault, really. Before he left, you made sure to turn his frown upside down and did it so well that his mind was malfunctioning from the memory of your lips, leaving marks on his chest.

"She's fine. The doctor said she'd be able to fly home in a few days." Spencer replied giddily.

Emily smirked, "Yeah, I bet she's fine, alright." She pointed at Spencer's tie, enough hint for Derek and JJ to catch up in the conversation.

"My man," Derek's grinned.

JJ's eyes widened, and her mouth was slightly agape. "So, are you two made up?"

Spencer nodded, "Yeah... just a tricky blunder."

reid masterlist | masterlist

[midnightwriter21]

jjk hcs: the jjk boys as boyfriends

characters: yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu

warnings: none (i think?)

AN: if there’s anymore boyfriend hcs that you’d like to see lmk!! read gojo & nanami as boyfriends HERE

YUJI ITADORI

oh girl i am JEALOUS

he can be a little air headed at times but he’s the sweetest bf ever

i say he’s air headed but he’s actually very attentive

you get half an inch trimmed off your hair?

he notices immediately

“babe your hair looks great!”

notices everything about you actually

from your favorite color

to the brand of PENS you prefer to use

who tf notices the brand of pens people use?!?

yuji does

yk the tiktoks of boys picking entire BUSHES of flowers for their girlfriends

that’s him.

he straight up rips a whole bush out of the ground from the front of jujutsu high to give to you

principal yaga was not amused

gojo was tho

HE PRINTS OUT YOUR INSTAGRAM PICTURES TO REPLACE THE POSTERS OF MODELS ON HIS WALL

he’s so proud that your his girl fr

oh and he’s gotta hella pet names for you too

they’re all super basic

babe, sweetheart, cutie, etc.

he flirts w u like y’all aren’t together

awful pickup lines and everything

“do you have a mirror in ur pants? cause i can see myself in them.”

if u don’t think he’s the cutest then u can go argue with the wall bye

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

he has me in a chokehold

anyways

at the beginning of y’all’s relationship he’s awkward as fuck

but he eases up pretty quickly

veryyyyyy private with y’all’s relationship

if you somehow get him to hold your hand in public let alone give you a kiss?!?

girl count ur blessings fr

and it’s not bc he’s embarrassed of your relationship or anything no ma’am

it’s bc he would NEVER hear the end of it from gojo, nobara, and yuji

valid excuse

but when you two are alone?

oh girl it’s like he’s glued to you

when i say clingy? i mean it

also

king of nap time!!

he’s kidnapping u, bring you to his dorm room, dropping u on the bed, and laying completely on top of you

swear it’s his solution to everything

ur tired? it’s nap time

sad abt something? it’s nap time

a curse beat ur ass? it’s nap time

gojo is being annoying? it’s nap time

nap time cures everything ong

he’s not too crazy w the pet names

in private he’ll call you babe

in public you’re lucky if he adds a -chan to ur name lol

he’s so pretty boy

also can we appreciate his gorgeous luscious eyelashes?

no? okay

YUTA OKKOTSU

i would give my first born to make him feel happy, safe, and loved

KING OF MY HEART

he’s so baby

he’s the type of bf that no matter how long y’all have been dating he still gets flustered over you

y’all been together for an hour? he’s blushing when you give him a kiss on the cheek

y’all been together for a week? he’s blushing when you give him a kiss on the cheek

y’all been together for a year? he’s BLUSHING WHEN YOU GIVE HIM A KISS ON THE CHEEK

HE. IS. BLUSHING.

which is so incredibly endearing and innocent

but don’t get me wrong

mess with this man too much?

oh he’ll snap

he has the patience of a saint. but when it runs out?

oh ur in for it miss gurl

period.

teasing him a lil too much tryna make him flustered

when he finally snaps he is switching that dynamic up real quick

now he’s the one smirking and feeling all smug while you’re the one with the bright red face

ahem…

anyways

yuta’s love for you is very intense

now don’t start thinking HE is intense cause no

i mean yuta loves you so much that he might just crawl up inside ur body and live there

that type of intense

you occupy his mind 99.9% of the time

he’s on a mission and has time to stroll through the mall

“oh y/n would like that” aND HE’S BUYING IT

he’s chit chatting with inumaki and panda

best believe he finds a way to bring you up in conversation

“oh! that reminds me y/n said something the other day about…”

he is the softest ever when it comes to pet names

sweetheart, my love, princess, etc.

i’m so soft for him he deserve the world

[batterygarden]

trapped in a bomb shelter with your big bro naoya

cw: big bro! naoya x fem & afab! reader, dead dove do not eat, misogyny! (and it's my kink so it's not like.. refuted), mild degradation (naoya calls u dumb), but naoya's sweet too, depression and nihilism, masturbation (both of u), sorta dubcon (tagged), fingering, and light mentions of: p in v, somno, cunnilingus, bondage, cowgirl, humiliation kink (on you), naoya being possessive, 1.7 k words

18+, minors don't interact

It’s surprising when the attack is announced how quickly Naoya moves to grab you. The gears in your mind haven’t even processed the news—that doomsday is upon you—by the time your brother has you snatched up in his arms and he’s running. 

Most of the clan’s away at a local festival—a whole kilometer’s walk from the great zenin estate and the bomb shelter your esteemed (and wealthy) clan head installed. You and Naoya are the only ones to make it in time. 

Naoya has never been the warmest big brother. In fact, there have been plenty of times where you thought you hated him. But at the end of the day you know he cares for you—even if it’s in his twisted, roundabout way. Still, enough that you were his first and only priority to shove into the little bunker beneath your estate surprised you a bit. 

You aren’t sure Naoya thought his decision out—you know he didn’t have time to properly. The way he rushed to your room and scooped you in his arms, no pit stops before locking the thick bunker door closed behind him—before anyone else had the chance to join. It ended up being for the best, explosions outside were heard only too shortly after—still, you hope he doesn’t regret it.

You’re nearing day 10 inside your small shelter, and if the shaking ground and dire radio warnings Naoya managed to pick up are any indicator—the world outside isn’t going to be inhabitable again for a while. 

Naoya is handling things better than expected. He’s thrown himself to small tasks—keeping the mind sharp he calls it. He’s less grumpy than he could be—resilient. Honestly the one lacking in mental fortitude is you.

“You can’t just sit there watching me do push ups. You need to move around too, dummy.” 

“Nii-san im starting to lose the point.”

“The point?”

“I don’t understand why anything matters anymore if we’re all that’s left.” 

He wipes sweat from his brow, glaring at you while he drinks some water. 

“You just said it. Things still matter because we are still here. Eventually outside will be safe again and we’ll get out and start over. Don’t get all stupid and weepy in the meantime.” 

You try to stay occupied, you try to do as Naoya says, but still, you struggle. Spending day after monotonous day trapped in here, you can’t help but start to get depressed.

Then one day Naoya says he needs to touch himself. 

And there’s no room for you to avoid him while he does. You’re uncomfortable—-giving him a look that conveys it. But he insists he has to. 

“I’m a man. Don’t be dense.” 

Before you know it his cock is out and he’s fisting it at a leisurely pace, leaning back on the bed with his other hand. You face away from him, trying and failing to focus on rereading your book. But then he says your name, and when you look he’s still exposed and hard, but he beckons for you to come closer. He isn’t satisfied with your closeness till you’re sitting beside him on the bed. 

He’s still stroking himself slowly when he says: “You need this, too. Touch yourself.” 

You freeze for a minute then shake your head. Is this some kind of test? It’s shameful…

“Saving yourself for marriage doesn’t matter anymore if we’re all that’s left. You’re practically mine now anyways, since our entire clan is obliterated. It’s just me ‘n you.”

...You need to collect your thoughts. In the first place… you’re unsure how far you could get away with disobeying your big brother. He’s been somewhat softer in the shelter, better behaved than he was outside, at least. But you haven’t forgotten the way he used to act when he didn’t get his way… conniving and nasty—you’ve witnessed his wrath more times than you can count. Notably, though, It wasn’t ever pointed at you—his attitude towards his little sister has only ever been mischievous at worst. He’d simply mock and pick apart, invade your personal space and mess up your hair—though you’re sure he’d have been much worse if you didn’t go out of your way to be inoffensive. All in all, a hard no from you now would be a first inside the shelter. 

Then there’s the honest truth of the matter: he’s right. Naoya may as well be the last person on earth for all you know, and you have been going crazy with hormones and neediness—but too afraid to touch yourself with no alone time. It’s a week after your period so you’re pretty sure you’re ovulating, and Naoya’s been walking around shirtless, acting just as touchy as always, but kinder than usual—and it’s not like he’s unattractive. 

It’s sick that you’re even considering it. Touching yourself at your brother’s command—you’re a daughter of a distinguished clan! Maybe this little bunker truly is making you crazy…

In the end, the same idea that’s been infecting your mind constantly post doomsday wins out: nothing matters anymore anyways. 

That thought is how you justify laying back on the bed beside your brother, stripped of your robes and spread-legged, two fingers pumping in and out of your pussy while you buck against your palm. 

Naoya’s sharp eyes watch from beside you, never missing a thing while he continues stroking his cock. You’re so relieved to be giving your pussy attention after so long, you don’t even dwell on how messed up it all is. 

After a while of trying to cum but barely reaching that special spot inside you to do so, Naoya can’t take watching anymore. 

“My sweet sister, how old are you, again? You can’t even make yourself cum?” Naoya tucks his hard-on in the waistband of his pants, focusing entirely on you. 

The mattress squeaks as he scoots closer, large hand around your ankle to spread you wider for his gaze. 

You stop pumping your fingers, giving him a slow stare. He frowns. “No, no, keep trying. Let me see what’s the matter.” 

So you do, working yourself up while you and Naoya watch each other, humping your palm when you get close again. You whine, biting your lip while you brush against the part inside you that feels best. Still, it’s not enough. You’re on the edge of tears searching for that release when—

“Okay, stop, sweet thing. You clearly need a man to do this.” 

You pant while you look up at him, remembering what exactly is going on here when you pull your messy fingers away. It only makes you wetter when you think of the nastiness of it all.

“Nii-san?” 

It shouldn’t surprise you when his fingers replace yours, but it does, Naoya’s warm touch with no warning earning a little jump. 

He doesn’t comment, only sets to work with his middle and ring finger sinking deep into your hole, curling right where you need them but couldn’t reach yourself, pressing his thumb to your clit at the same time. 

It feels heavenly. So good you almost close your eyes, but you can’t somehow. You wouldn’t want to lose a glimpse of Naoya—his eyes are transfixing. 

And, like always, Naoya watches you back.

His expression while he does is patient and relaxed in a way that reminds you of when he helped you with homework or something as a kid. Patient and bored if you ever struggled or needed help—like he always had low expectations for you. You suppose that’s why he had so much more patience for you than he did for other family members—your shortcomings were at times endearing while those he thought were supposed to be strong had stricter standards. 

Ultimately, an inability to make yourself cum seems like something Naoya expected of you. 

And he wasn’t lying about his ability to help—his bigger fingers fit inside you just where you need them, and it takes your brother only minutes to earn your release, clamping down on him while you make a mess on the bed, crying out and arching—after edging for so long the orgasm lasts what feels like forever. 

Noaya fucks you after that. He may as well, he tells you—he still needs to get off and it’ll feel good for you this way too. And he’s right, he may as well. It’s the end of the world and your brother may as well fuck you. And of course his cock feels amazing—it manages to feel like a solace in this bunker where nothing matters. 

After that day, miraculously, you start to perk up. Naoya figured out the key to your depression, the key to keeping you occupied—it’s sex. Everyday your big brother fucks you and every day you get better. 

Things stay interesting because when you’re fucking every day—you experiment. Or at least, Naoya does—he’s the creative one between the two of you, you’re just along for the ride. 

You wake up in knots of rope one morning with Naoya’s tongue between your legs—you’re in the middle of an orgasm. He splits you open on his cock afterwards for good measure. He lets you ride him another day, something you’re fairly sure he’s never let a woman do. You cockwarm him while the two of you read a book at the same time—it’s silly. He’s kept you tied up almost an entire day before, doing whatever he wanted, exposed and embarrassed. You’re his little cock sleeve of a sister, he says. 

“You know I’m actually glad that at least this way, stuck in here, no other clan can have you. They wouldn’t deserve you as a wife, not one of them. It’s a silver lining—this way, you’re all mine.” 

[starmocha]

Relentless Conqueror Sylus/Reader | 1790 words | Masterlist | AO3 To be wedded to the strongest warrior in the village was an honor and a blessing. A/N: I saw someone specified that Sylus is dressed as a Mongolian wrestler in the new memory. I am so excited for it, but um…this fic has absolutely nothing to do with that. My mind just swerved completely off-course the moment I saw this man manhandling us again lmao And…yeah…this is based on this post I made earlier. Still in my ✨shameful Sylus posting era✨ 😔 MDNI.

In the wide-open plane of the grassland, everything could be heard for miles all around. Stretched across the vast expanse, one area was occupied by numerous huts making up a small but thriving village.

Within the village, everyone had a role. The elders guided and led the villagers with their years of wisdom. The men were providers, hunters, and warriors while the women sustained the community and reared the children who would one day take over, thus continuing this cycle of life.

You were no exception. It was time for you to take your place among others with the new role you were about to take.

Fortune had smiled down upon you. Hushed whispers wove through the village, going from mouth to mouth, passing loose lips after loose lips, before the news finally reached you.

Sylus had chosen you to be his bride.

To be chosen by the strongest warrior in the village to be his bride was an honor bestowed only on you. He would provide you with a life of comfort and in turn, you were to bear him strong children. Many of the other maidens envied you, wanting to covet your place, to steal him away from you.

However, Sylus was truly the epitome of the ideal warrior: Large, strong, and imposing. He was unyielding on the battlefield, and he was unyielding in his decisions.

Of all the maidens who had crossed his path, only one had managed to ensnare him, to captivate him like no others.

You.

It was a prosperous union witnessed in a lavish ceremony by the entire village, cheered to be blessed by the gods themselves. A true match made in Heaven, many declared, as the wedding ceremony ended and the celebration began.

Arm linked with your new husband, you greeted and thanked the well-wishers, watching with wonders as everyone feasted and drank to your marriage. The merriment started from morning and continuing well into the late night. After nightfall had descended, Sylus led you away from the celebration. No one noticed the absence of the bride and groom, too drunk on alcohol and the festivities to even be aware of their surroundings.

Sylus whisked you away to his quiet hut, far from the music, laughter, and cheers. He towered over you, holding aside the curtain at the entryway to allow you entrance. As you entered, you could see the hut had been prepped for the wedding night.

It was a very comfortable living space, more extravagant than many of the other villagers’ homes. You barely had a moment to fully take in the sight of your new home before Sylus swept you off your feet, cradled in his arms as he carried you to his bed. He laid you down on fur, your beauty illuminated by the lamps within the hut. You could still hear the residual laughter and chatters outside as the rest of the villagers continued in their merriment celebrating this union.

“Pay them no heed,” Sylus ordered, grasping your chin firmly and forcing your sight on him. “Tonight, and for the rest of our lives, you are mine.”

He kissed you roughly, not minding your inexperience. It pleased him that your chasteness meant you were untouched, meant that he would have the sole honor of claiming you.

He disrobed his blushing bride, guiding your nimble hands to his toned body, letting you touched upon his firm muscles, feel the heat from his body. One by one, accessories fell, clinking and clanking on the ground. Then, his own ceremonial garments were discarded, tossed carelessly to the side and leaving him bare and nude, your eyes feasting on the wonderous sight of your new husband.

You swallowed slowly, feeling the gentle flutters of butterflies in your belly. He smirked at your nervousness. One hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer to him. You whimpered when he claimed your lips again, his large body overpowering you in seconds. He had you spread beneath him, his own body looming over yours and keeping you trapped under him. He cupped your sex, startling you as his long, slender fingers worked into your folds.

You let out a sharp gasp, fingers finding their way into his hair, and tugging at him nervously.

“Relax,” he ordered, “You’re not ready for me yet.”

He was well-endowed, his size intimidating, and you unconsciously clenched, only realizing when you heard Sylus’ deep chuckle. You blushed crimson, but your embarrassment soon passed the moment you felt Sylus working his fingers in and out of you.

“Ah—” Your hips moved on their own, desperately meeting his thrusts, wanting more, just a bit more. Your toes curled, body tensing up when you felt his thumb brushing against something that was causing you to jolt in pleasure. “M-more…Sylus…please…”

“You like that, sweetie?”

You nodded numbly, your voice coming out breathless. “Yes…please…my husband.”

You didn’t see the way Sylus’ eyes gleamed in satisfaction, didn’t hear his quick intake of breath over your own helpless moans. He smirked.

He seized your mouth again, taking in your startled cries, his fingers slipping in and out of your wet folds faster and faster. “My bride—my wife…” he murmured back, nipping and sucking greedily, “You’re so wet now, sweetie…Do you feel good?”

You sobbed and cried as his fingers curled inside. There was a tightening in your belly. You called out to him, scared. “Sy—Sylus…”

He shushed you gently. “Come for me.”

You clenched around his fingers, your cries filling the room. Sylus’ smirk widened as he watched you come undone by his fingers alone. He kissed your lips, praising you softly as you panted and sobbed. You barely recovered when he withdrew his fingers, his length taking place.

You bucked in surprise, eyes widening. “Sy-Sylus, no…”

“You are ready for me, my bride,” he assured. He pressed forward and you gripped a handful of the fur throw beneath you, your sensitive body feeling suddenly overstimulated by the massive intrusion taking place. Impossibly big, you thought, as your walls stretched around his thick length, taking him in slowly through much pain. He barely comforted you, seemingly enjoying the sight of you gasping and moaning as you were getting stuffed by him. His soft pants grew shallower, his eyes darkened with desire as he watched his beloved new bride taking him in inch by inch.

He praised you over and over once he was fully sheathed inside you, his deep voice comforting you in that moment. “You’re doing so well,” he said, voice thick with desire, “I have chosen the perfect wife.”

You felt a warmth in your belly, his praise filling you with unexpected joy. “Sylus…”

He smirked.

He took you brutally, riding you as rough and hard like his faithful steed. You wept and sobbed as his powerful thrusts reached that euphoric spot that had you writhing and moaning, begging him for more and more of this sweet, agonizing pleasure. You had never known the touch of a man before this night, and from this moment onwards, Sylus made sure you never will. He was going to make sure your body learned that you were his, craved only him, and only satisfied by him.

He was wrecking you, ruining you. You moaned as his large hand covered your flat belly. “You better prepare yourself, my bride,” he husked, “the women in my family only bear large children.”

You trembled, unsure if what you were feeling was fear or otherwise. He slipped his hands under you, groping and grabbing your buttocks and lifting you off the bed, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Immediately, your head lolled to the side, your moans resounded within the private space as you felt him penetrating you deeply, his pacing still unrelenting and unforgiving. This new angle had you calling out to him needily, feeling the second climax approaching fast.

Closer…and closer…and closer—

“Dear gods…” he groaned as you came undone again, your walls squeezing tightly around his cock. He pressed you back into the bed, letting you ride out your high as he chased after his. His hand grasped yours, pressing them deeper into the bedding.

“Gonna fuck my child into you,” he grunted, his hips slapping against yours, “Gonna breed you, have you heavy with my baby in your womb.”

He fondled your breast, massaging it roughly under his calloused hand. His mouth was close to yours, his hot, humid breath fanned over your lips. “Gonna have you swell, gonna have you bear me sons and daughters over and over again…”

Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him in closer to his surprise. He smirked. His hand reached out to brush your hair out of your sweat-slicked face. He leaned in closer, kissing you briefly, and then he asked, “Did you like the sound of that, my bride? Do you like what I am saying? Do you like knowing this is your role from now on? To bear my children over and over again?”

“Y—” you bit down on your bottom lip, embarrassed.

“Say it,” he demanded, thrusting in harder, eliciting more of your sweet cries.

He held you close and you sobbed into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck as you felt him still pounding into your pussy. “Yes…Yes…!” you cried out, clinging to him, “I want your baby…I want to have all of your babies, Sylus!”

“Fuck’s sake…” His eyes squeezed shut, feeling you come again already. This time, he also felt his own climax, felt himself pumping hot into you. He groaned again, “Take every last drop, sweetie.”

You felt so impossibly full, his seed flooding your womb. There was not a doubt in your head that this union wouldn’t be fruitful. You were going to carry his baby, bear him large, strong sons—future warriors to carry on his legacy.

“My bride, my beautiful bride,” he murmured, lavishing you in his sweet kisses as he pulled out. He gazed down at you, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and doe eyes staring back at him. He hummed softly, his lips finding yours again, his large hand interlocking with yours.

“Mine.”

Beyond the hut, the celebration continued. Laughter and singing continued well into the late night, but within this hut, there was only the labored breathing, desperate gasps and pleased moans filling the space for hours on end. Time seemed to have slowed down, the world quieting.

He took you, claimed you over and over again. Your body was his, and his was yours. From this day and onwards, in this life and all of the lifetimes to come, you were his bride, the only one capable of stealing the heart of the feared conqueror of the grassland.

[sturnioz]

fratboy!chris has no reason to hang out with girls if there's no fucking involved — but it's a little different with shy!reader.

the subway car is fairly quiet, the faint hum of the train along the tracks the only sound breaking the stillness. a few strangers occupy random seats, each absorbed in their own world — some listen to music through plugged-on earphones and bluetooth headphones, some are busy reading their books, turning their pages softly, and others have surrendered to their tiredness, their eyes closed, heads leaning against the cool metal poles or the windows.

you're sitting on one of the wall seats beside chris, your anxiety bubbling beneath the surface as your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip, a nervous habit. your leg bounces restlessly, tapping against the hard floor as you glance up at the digital clock on the train's schedule, the late hour staring back at you.

now, you don't have a curfew at all — but you've always been mindful of getting home at a reasonable hour to avoid worrying your parents, and with your phone dead and unable to call them about your whereabouts, a wave of unease washes over you at the thought of getting into some sort of trouble.

chris is calm and relaxed beside you, his legs comfortably spread, knee bumping against yours as the train ways. his head rests back on the wall, eyes closed, while he chews on a stick of a lollipop that he devoured minutes ago, the muscles in his jaw twitch with each chew.

spending the entire day together was a little odd. you were originally heading to the city alone (after mustering up the courage when your friends had told you they all had plans) and you had bumped into chris on the way into the station. he was straightforward with his questioning, wondering why someone as shy as you would go to the big city alone, before announcing that he was coming with you.

the two of you spent the day walking the busy streets of the city, going into your favourite little thrift stores — which you felt embarrassed with when chris followed you inside instead of heading to a different store, making small comments under his breath and snorting at the little trinkets he came across. when he had led you towards the large stores, the price tags that made you squirm, you trailed behind like a little puppy, feeling out of place.

and when you went to go eat, that's when time had seemed to go by so quickly. you were enjoying yourself in the markets, eating delicious foods at stalls that left your stomach full — although you definitely made some room when chris brought you to one of his favourite dessert stalls, sharing a chocolate fudge and cherry sundae.

"will you fuckin' stop, kid?" chris grumbles suddenly, interrupting you from your memories of today, and your eyes flit to him. his hand lands firmly on your knee to stop your restless bouncing. "you're pissin' me the fuck off with your thumpin'... like a fuckin' rabbit, jesus christ."

"sorry." you whisper an apology, warmth riding to your cheeks as you try to steady your nerves, but it only spikes when you realise chris' hand remains on your knee.

"you need to relax, a'ight? because you on edge right now is.. well, it's makin' me all fidgety 'n shit. just relax... breathe," he tells you as he shifts, his head rolling to the side to meet your gaze, his eyebrows scrunched. "seriously, kid, what's got you all jumpy? huh?"

"it's late," you murmur quietly, glancing at the digital clock once again.

"late?" chris echoes, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement. "what? don't tell me that you got a curfew or some shit?"

"no, no," you shake your head. "it's just that... i always make it home at a certain time so my parents don't have to worry about me, and not only did i go into the city today, but my phone is dead too. i'm really worried that they've been trying to call me and—"

"okay, okay, okay," chris interrupts your rambling, a huff escaping his lips as he shifts his hips, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "you know your parents' number, yeah? jus' call from my phone, kid. tell 'em you got busy and your phone died — it's easy."

you nod slowly, taking a much more relaxed breath as you accept his phone to do just that. chris scoffs quietly, resuming his chewing on the lollipop stick while squeezing your knee, before slumping his head down nonchalantly on your shoulder, listening as you speak to your parents — completely unaware of you trying to keep your voice steady and ignoring the flurry of butterflies through your stomach at the close proximity.

© STURNIOZ

[written-in-flowers]

His Obsession: Demon!Mingi x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubi!Mingi x Fem!reader | side pairings: demonline x fem, yunho x mingi

Word count: 17k

Genre: smut, fluff, and slight angst MINORS DNI

Summary: A startling realization has YN questioning everything she knew about herself. With help from Mingi and the mysterious "Dennis", she learns quickly that she's more than a mere slave.

Tags: master/slave dynamic, enslavement, bondage, poly relationship (mmmf), animal death (a mouse), monster fucking, tentacle sex, demon fucking, bisexual sex, foursome (m/m/m/f), threesome (m/f/m?), science experiments mentioned/implied, suspension, tit fucking, dirty talk, name calling, cream pie, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of violence/torture, very slight feederism, voyeurism, auralism (slight), double penetration, rough oral sex, oral sex.

Previously on Pretty Pet > Next

***

Must he be tortured this way? Mingi thought he might lose his mind at this rate. Standing outside Seonghwa’s bedroom, he overheard everything. From the “fight” with Yeosang to you accepting the loser's punishment, Mingi stood by as always and listened. He considered sneaking inside to watch from the shadows, but knew better. Part of being a bodyguard is remaining at his post unless called elsewhere. The young lords hired him for a reason; he won't give them an excuse to fire him. 

Instead, Mingi stood by the door and listened. He heard your loud moans and groans. The images your sounds created tortured him. He spent his entire day around you whether you knew it or not. Mingi stood watch as Jongho helped you bathe. He stayed outside the rooms you occupied. On the few times you went into the city, he walked right behind you. That was his place: five paces behind you. This meant he was subjected to your body. Your soft floral scent wafted over to him each time you moved; his eyes constantly landed on your ass, taking in the shape and curve of it from afar. The night he watched Hongjoong tie you up was the best thing he'd ever seen. Mingi couldn’t count how many times he stayed up late thinking of his dick in your throat. 

Mingi turned his head when the door latch clicked. Yeosang walked out of the room, dazed and exhausted from his time with you. He felt compelled to ask his cousin how things went. He died to know the details. Yet, all he said was:

“Rough fight?”

“Brutal, but I won.”

“As expected.”

“It got me the weekend off too.”

“Nice and well deserved.”

Yeosang bid him good night and walked towards the stairs. Mingi pictured himself in Yeosang’s position, floaty and giddy from the entanglement. You always sound so good. He yet to find a slum girl who fucks half as good as you. The ones he came across only did it because he paid them well. You sincerely enjoyed it and that alone aroused him. 

“Are they finished yet?” 

Yunho came around the corner with a tray of tea and biscuits. No doubt San or Seonghwa called for food to feed their pet. Yunho, handsome and tall, was the most devoted out of all the servants. He truly did not let his emotions get the better of him or let it interrupt his work. Though Mingi noticed that you tempted even the strongest of the staff. Cold serums and syrups became regular parts of his meals since you arrived. 

“I think so,” Mingi answered. “You're free to go in and attend to them.”

Yunho glanced down to his crotch to see the bump. Mingi’s cheeks flushed a light pink at the realization. He covered them with folded hands, acting natural and casual, but Yunho already saw. He stepped to him, eyes downcasted at the bulge, and he smirked. 

“Again, Mingi?’

“I can't help it,” he defended. “She's…”

“I know. She sounds so pretty,” he said. He then caressed the bulge with one hand, and Mingi crumbled. “She's not the only one. How about once they're asleep, you come to my room and we take care of our problems together?”

“Oh? You're a bit compromised, Mr. Jeong?” Mingi reached out for his groin, already feeling the length hidden in his pants. “I thought the house manager controlled his urges.”

“I can hold them off,” he said in a low voice, tracing the seam of Mingi’s pants. “Unlike some demons I know…”

“You'd get hardons too if you heard her getting fucked multiple times a day.”

“I bet I would. Too bad she's a slave,” he said, “I don't think I'd be able to control myself otherwise.”

“Then let's hope they throw her in the greenhouse. I don't mind getting a bit dirty.”

“I know you don't.”

Yunho grazed his lips over Mingi’s, then stepped away to open the door. The tightness Yunho created swelled inside his boxers. An image of having both you and Yunho made him internally whimper. He'd do anything to taste you again. He couldn't wait for tomorrow at least. It'd be a Hongjoong day, and the middle brother never refused a third partner. 

But Yunho’s body is equally delightful. 

****

His lips always felt so good on your skin. His plush mouth started at your shoulder before making its way to the curve of your neck. His thin arms always encompass you entirely to keep you close as he kisses you. You could hear him faintly inhale your scent, taking in your aroma amongst the mess around you. He didn't care if his brothers happened to be right beside you. To Hongjoong, for those few minutes of daybreak, in the silence of the bedchamber, you are his and only his. 

“Morning,” he said sleepily in your ear, kissing you just underneath the lobe. It'd become his favorite spot to kiss. 

“Morning,” you croaked, your voice hoarse and body aching. 

“Sleep well?”

“Like a baby.”

You slid from San’s arms and into Hongjoong’s completely. His smooth creamy skin glowed in the rays of light breaking through the curtains. Out of all the brothers, Hongjoong continued to be the enigma. Spending time with the brothers one at a time gave you an idea of their expectations. San expected hot meals and a clean apartment. Seonghwa liked intelligent conversation and listening to you play the piano. Hongjoong left you guessing and wondering. His schedule remained ambiguous, his preferences and kinks changed daily, and he never did the same thing twice. At times, he acted like a child, but you learned he mostly did it to annoy Seonghwa. He kept you on your toes, and you liked that. You snuggled against his chest when he pulled you in, and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Laying in Seonghwa’s bed, underneath the warm blankets, you could sleep in his arms forever. 

“Do you still feel any pain?” he asked, his hand gently rubbing your back. 

“Nothing out of the usual,” you said, shutting your eyes and washing yourself in his touch. “Your hands are rough,” you pointed out suddenly. 

“Do you not like that?”

“I do,” you assured him. The hand on your back slid down to your ass, tenderly cupping before coming upwards again. You put your hand on his chest, idly swirling patterns into the soft flesh. “It feels good on my skin.”

“I work with my hands often,” he told you, brushing hair from your face. “It comes from handling weapons and other things all day.”

You refused to learn what ‘other things’ are. “Gloves are a thing, you know.”

“I use them,” he said with a soft laugh, “But I sometimes like using my tools with bare hands. Something about breaking someone with nothing between me and them but my knives just…” you felt him shudder against you, “It gives a rush. It is the only time I feel anything, to be truthful.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve done every drug and drank every drink known to man,” he began, fingers gently tracing your spine. “I have tried every stimulant possible. Nothing has yet to beat torturing the people who end up in my chair. There’s a specific type of high you get when you’re slicing someone apart, and there’s nothing they can do but scream.” 

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because you’ve seen my dungeon,” he replied in a soft laugh. 

“I’ve also been on the receiving end of your whip. Many times, I might add.”

“I’ve never done it to an extent you don’t like,” he added. 

“And I imagine your victims don’t get that luxury.”

“They were terrible people in life, and it’s what they deserve now. I mean,” he scoffed, “You’re telling me that I should’ve let Hitler live out his afterlife in peace?”

“Hitler?!” your eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all,” he shook his head. “I’m not killing single moms that I stalked in the park or beating up old people. The people who end up in the lower dungeons deserve to be there. It makes what I do a million times more enjoyable than it already is.” 

“Still, it’s…”

“Gruesome? Gory? Psychopathic?”

“Sociopathic. You know what you’re doing is wrong.”

“Eh, is it, though? I’m only doing to them what they did to people in life,” he defended. 

“It really is a fine line.”

“Very fine.” He then gave you a sly smirk, “Just like you.”

You giggled, letting him lean in for another kiss. Tenderness laid in every caress of his lips on yours. A hand squeezed your breast, a rough thumb passing over your nipple softly. He drew it out of you so easily. Each of them coaxed your need from you like a milkshake through a straw. You loved and hated it. Rolling onto his back, Hongjoong swung your thigh over his groin and let you straddle him. He’d remained naked throughout the night, which brought on more torture for you. Hands falling to your thighs, he gently squeezed them and grinded into you. You rested your arms on either side of his head, somewhat trapping him underneath you as you kissed. 

“Grind into me,” he said in a breathy moan, encouraging you with a push of his own. “I want you to get wet for me again.” 

The both of you laughed softly and you did as asked. You really took in the length and width of him underneath you. Some people noted that your ability to handle a demon’s cock was impressive. Your body must be accustomed to them, you supposed. You certainly did not complain. His mouth finding your nipple, he sucked firmly while you rolled your hips over his hardening tip. This added a sprinkle of pleasure to top what was already built within you. Soon, needy whimpers and low grunts became muffled by your kisses. 

Excitement boiled in your stomach when he aligned himself with your entrance. You didn’t hesitate to slide down to the very hilt. Your body froze with the fullness he brought, only able to move because of your need for him took over. Hongjoong laid underneath you, hands on your thighs as he watched you rock your hips back and forth. Dark eyes rolled back, his head tilting into the pillow as your walls snuggly gripped him. When you started riding him up and down, you noticed another hand reach up to tease your nipple. 

“Now this,” San said, voice hoarse from sleep, “I love waking up every morning.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Hongjoong groaned, teasing the other nipple. “She makes me hard without even trying all that much.”

“You started it,” you smiled, taking a particularly slow and shallow bounce. Leaning over him, you brought him in for another kiss, “I was fine laying here and talking until Yeosang came.”

“Yeosang won’t be taking you for today.” Seonghwa wrapped himself around San from behind, and you couldn’t help noticing the hand hidden under the sheet. “I gave him the weekend off. Jongho will be taking care of you for a while.”

“Though, I doubt you’ll be complaining, huh?” Hongjoong, taking both your hands, started pushing up into you. You freely let out your moans, his tip pressing into the sensitive core. “Or did you like hate fucking him?”

“I lo-loved it,” you admitted. “I loved it so much.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” said San, eyes dropping as Seonghwa’s hand worked him slowly. He reached down to your clit, and you whimpered when his thumb started teasing it. “I’d love to man handle you that way. If you can't fight off skinny little Yeosang, you’ll definitely have trouble with me.”

“I think I’d lose on purpose.” 

Seeing you eyeing both him and San, Seonghwa removed the covers for you to see them pressed together. His narrow hips snapped up into San’s pert, firm ass, as he jerked him with the other hand. Hardly anything turned you on as much as watching your masters with one another. Something about their hard bodies pushed together, and strong hands roaming each other aroused you. San whimpered meekly when Seonghwa languidly stroked him in time with his thrusts. Nothing seemed off limits with your masters. Incubi, you’d learned, engaged in sexual acts regardless of gender or sex. It appeared to energize and fuel them rather than slow them down. 

Soon, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had you and San on your backs and knees in the air. Your hand snaked its way to San’s raging hardon, and he did the same to you. The slow build up quickened into a dire need that all four of you shared. In that moment, in the privacy of Seonghwa’s curtained bed, it was only you and them. Nothing could penetrate through the fine velvet curtains and interrupt you. With San’s fingers teasing your clit, his cock throbbing in your hand, Hongjoong’s dick filling you and Seonghwa pounding away at San, sent you over the edge sooner than you’d liked. But, this didn’t upset your masters at all. In a few quick pushes, Hongjoong spilled his thick hot seed inside you. This heightened your climax, and you pushed down to meet him. 

“You really do love being cummed in, huh?” he teased, holding you close and keeping himself deep inside you. 

“Yes,” you breathed, the last few drops of arousal disappearing in your orgasm. 

“Fuck, thaT’s so hot.”

You both gave breathy laughs before kissing. Next to you, San’s back arched as Seonghwa prodded his prostate dead center. You continued stroking him until  the tiniest of drops reached up to his chest. His stomach tensed and covered in white streaks, he never looked better. The four of you laid in silence, your collective breathing being the only sound in the room. Any minute, you expected the curtains to open and shatter the peaceful bliss floating around. You didn't want to leave the bed, not when you had your masters with you. Their arms kept you safe even if sticky and sweaty. But, Hongjoong left you first. 

“I'm starving,” he said, kissing you. “I'll see you at breakfast.”

You whined when he rolled away and left the bed. “I'm going to wash up,” San told you, “I'll be in the dining room later. You get some more sleep, if you want.”

It left you and Seonghwa alone. Even in your sleepy haze, you sensed the tension building. Not the passionate, sexual urge that usually boiled over between you, but something much more serious. Nervousness fumbled your insides, and you didn't know how to diffuse it. 

“YN,” Seonghwa said softly. Not your pet name. He said your true name; you thought you imagined it at first. When you didn't respond, he turned his head, “YN.”

“Master?”

“I am giving you one chance and only one,” he said. All tenderness from before left his voice and you wondered what you'd done. “I want an honest answer. If you answer honestly, I won't be upset with you.”

“Yes, Master?” 

“Are you a cambion?”

The question made you pause. “Why would you think that?”

“Answer my question.”

“I'm…I'm not, obviously. I'm human. I've always been human. I would know if I wasn’t, wouldn't I?”

Seonghwa stared at you intently. Even in the dimness of the curtained bed, you saw the crimson rimming his eyes. 

“I'd have eyes like yours, wouldn't I?” you continued, “I'd have horns and a tail-”

“-Not necessarily,” he said. “You can easily take more after your human parent than your demon one.”

“Master,” a trickle of fear started down your throat to your lungs, “I'm not. I can't be. If I was, they would have known when I came here.” 

“If your demon parent didn’t register you, then no, they wouldn’t. What were your parents’ names?”

“Jimmy and Andi.”

“What was Andi short for?”

“Andromeda,” you answered. “It's actually my middle name in my previous life. Relatives liked calling her ‘Big Andi’, and me ‘Little Andi’. They still did it even when I grew up-” you stopped when you saw his eyes widen. “What…Master?”

“Andromeda? Are you sure?” 

“Yes.”

He sprung out of the bed, wrapping himself in his satin bathrobe. You saw a realization come to him, and right when you sat up, he looked to the door. 

“Mingi!” 

Your bodyguard came from out of the shadows, giving a head nod. “Master Seonghwa?”

“Make sure Kitten gets her bath and breakfast,” he said distractedly, tying his robe. You could tell his mind ran ahead of his body. “Tell Yunho I'll be having my breakfast in the library today.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Master,” you crawled to the foot of the bed, “What's going on?”

He left you confused on the bed. You stared at the doorway in hopes he may return and explain himself. Yet, he never did. Why did your mother's name bother him? Why did he think you weren't human? You are. You can't be anything else. Rufus tried passing you off as a demon before, and they'd seen right through that. Everything he listed could be coincidence. The thought stayed with you as you slipped off the bed. Mingi made to grab your chemise for you, but you walked past him to the bathroom. As you moved around preparing your own bath, you wondered what brought up the question. You thought back to last night. Nothing appeared too out of the ordinary other than you wrestling with Yeosang, a demon. He must be mistaken, you realized sliding into the tub. 

“Here.”

Mingi came up beside the tub with a small glass bottle. You recognized the bubble bath mixture Jongho usually put in the water. Looking at the water, you realized you'd forgotten to put it in. 

“Oh, thanks,” you said, watching him pour a few drops into the water. Long fingers moved through the water to create small trails of bubbles for you. 

“What's going on?” he asked, shaking water off his hand. “He had that determined look in his eyes.”

“He thinks I'm a cambion.”

Mingi paused, as bewildered as you felt. “He's not serious?” he finally said. 

“He is,” you replied. You started cleaning yourself off, feeling the grime of last night coming off with each stroke. “He freaked when I told him my parents’ names. I don’t see the big deal. It's not like he'll find anything. I'm not a half-demon. If I was, I wouldn't be a slave. I wouldn’t have gone into a circle. I'd be living here like a normal demon, not like this.”

“You must have done something that caught his attention,” he said, taking a seat on the stool beside you. “Like, the door. Whoever did that nearly broke it off the hinges.”

“It was Yeosang,” you told him. “He's the demon, not me. He obviously got pissed at me, and blew them open without meaning to.”

“Yeosang might be a grandson of Satan, but he's an expert at controlling his emotions,” Mingi said. “Yesterday was one of the few times he’d broken it. When I saw you all torn up and limping, I thought he'd hurt you, but you said you'd both fucked instead. Yeosang can usually hold himself back; he only indulges when permitted, but there he was, forcing you into submission and making you cum like crazy.” He hesitated, watching you clean up, then he said, “I can see why Master Seonghwa might think you're not human.”

“What?”

“You…Most humans, normal ones, can't handle demon dick like you do. I know it's a weak excuse, but it's a start.”

“I've been a pleasure slave for a long time. My body is used to it.”

“Humans don't get used to it. You get trains run through you, and all you get is a bit of soreness the next morning. Come to think of it…” He let his fingers aimlessly move though the water. “Master Hongjoong’s whip doesn't leave lasting marks on you.”

“I heal quickly.”

“Your body isn't supposed to heal quickly here. Any injury you get is supposed to last much longer, getting infected or possibly worse instead of better. It's part of anybody’s punishment.”

“Then…” you found it hard to counter his point. “Then, I don't know.”

“And not to mention, if you were human, I wouldn't want to fuck your brains out every time I'm around you.” He saw you laugh at his lewd confession, and he grinned, “I mean it. There’s something that…” he let out a deep breath, eyes free to scan your naked chest, “Makes it hard to resist you.”

“It’s not me. It’s your preference for humans over other demons. I don’t get why you like us anyways,” you said. “Humans aren’t as beautiful or sexual as succubi or incubi. We’re not, you know, sex personified.”

“They might not be, but you are,” he replied. “The humans that have come through here aren’t able to handle living here. Children born from Prince Asmodeus have incredibly high sex drives,” he laughed softly, “They can fuck multiple times a day and feel nothing. You might get a bit weary, but that must be the human in you. I’ve heard you, YN,” he let his fingers linger over towards you, “You love dick…” you gasped when his fingers grazed up your collarbone to your neck. “You seek it out sometimes.”

“I do not,” you laughed, letting him bring you closer by the back of your neck. “It seeks me out.”

“But you take it,” he said, voice low between you. His eyes fell down to your lips, a longing filling his eyes, “Hard and long and as many times as you could get. You have one orgasm, and you want more.”

“Orgasms are great,” you said simply. “They’re like cookies. You eat one, and you want a second.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Giving him a smirk, you stood up from the water. Your body soaking wet, you let Mingi take a good look at you before stepping out of the tub. “Do you mind getting me a towel? I always forget to keep it near me.”

Mingi went to the shelves of towels and toiletries, and brought you a large fluffy towel. Rather than hand it to you, he wrapped you in it snugly. You let him dry you himself, enjoying his hands on your body. The arousal he stirred became nearly intoxicating. It wasn’t your fault you lived in a house full of horny incubi. If they didn’t want to sleep with you, they wouldn’t. If you didn’t want it, you’d push them away when they tried. Being with one of the servants or one of your masters was  a regular part of your routine. It became your favorite part of the day. You knew you should have a little bit of self-control, but that didn’t exist here. Not when Mingi slowly moved down your body, thorough with his drying. Biting the inside of your lip, you held back a whimper when he brushed lightly over your sex. 

Alright, you loved sex, so what? That didn’t make you a cambion. Loads of people had copious amounts of sex every day. You knew you’d done it plenty in your previous life and in your new afterlife. You simply had more stamina and energy. It didn’t mean anything. 

Mingi delicately moved the towel down your thighs to your legs and feet. He didn’t spend much time there, since he easily came back up. Your pussy clenched when his thumbs pressed against your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart. You reached down to your sex, and rubbed it in circles inches from his face. Mingi’s mouth hung open when two fingers pushed your lips apart to reveal your hard clit. 

“See?” he said, looking up at you, “A regular human wouldn’t be so eager to fuck again.”

“You started it,” you accused, wetting two fingers with your mouth and returning to your touching. 

“And you have to finish it, right?”

“Unless you’d rather I didn’t?” you stopped touching yourself, despite your body’s protest. “I can go about my day just as easily,” you picked up a bathrobe hanging by the door, “Without a single care.”

“Tease,” he hissed, eyes focused on your body. 

You laughed at his disappointment, and walked out of the bathroom. Hongjoong didn’t like you dressed, so you walked right to his personal dining room down the hall in his own quarters. He sat on a high backed chair at the head of the table. He looked up from his plate when you approached. Without a word, you untied your robe and hung it by the door. Hongjoong’s eyes scanned over your body walking over to him. Before you could reach your seat, Hongjoong pulled you onto his lap and wrapped an arm around you. 

“You're sitting here,” he declared, snapping his fingers for a maid. “I have great plans for us today.”

“Such as?”

The maid placed a rice bowl with an egg and sliced beef on top. Hongjoong mixed it with a pair of chopsticks, then held it to your mouth. You ate the mixture, enjoying something more filling than the light meals Seonghwa and San serve. Hongjoong watched you eat, eyeing your mouth and seeing you swallow. Everything. Anything. Despite what he told you, there appeared to be very few limits to your master's kinks. He fed you again, and you ate normally rather than put a seductive spin on it. 

“Firstly, I'd like to take you to work with me,” he began. He poured you coffee, adding your preferred cream and sugar, “I think it'd be good for you to see where I work. You'll get a better sense of what I do, and its importance.”

“Do I have to? I'd rather keep my food in my stomach today.”

He laughed, dabbing your mouth, “Yes, sweetheart. I feel I hardly spend any time with you because I'm always working. I don't want you to think I'm avoiding you.”

“I don't think so. I know you're busy.” 

“But I still want to be with you,” he said. He held your coffee cup as you drank, “And then I thought we would go into the city together. The nicer part, not the slum areas, of course.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is. I told Seonghwa you need to stretch your legs outside the house. You should see the world outside the little errands San has you do. There's so much more out there.” He fed you another mouthful of rice, and watched you eat. Unlike others, even when aroused, Hongjoong kept himself together. “Besides, I want to fuck you in other places too.” 

You kissed the tip of his nose, “Of course, you do.”

He laughed, “I've told you how irresistible you are. It's pure torture. You're the slave, but here I am completely enthralled by you.” He kissed along your jawline, “It's vastly unfair. I want my money back.”

“You didn't pay for me,” you laughed. 

“Then I want a replacement,” he joked, kissing down your neck. “How am I supposed to focus on my work when I have you in the back of my mind, hm?”

“Prioritize?”

The two of you laughed before kissing again. He gave an audible sniff that curved a smile on his face. “You're wet,” he said, hunger lacing into his voice. “I can smell it. Who?”

“Mingi.”

“What did you two do?”

“Nothing. I may have teased him a bit.”

“You're so mean,” he chuckled, kissing you again. “Maybe I should leave you naked in a room with him? Let him take out that frustration you're always leaving him with.”

“As long as you watch…”

He breathed deeply before bringing you in for a kiss. He'd just snaked his tongue into your mouth when the doors opened. 

Seonghwa marched into the dining room with purpose. Fear jumped into your throat at the sight of his eyes trained on you. He still wore his satin robe from the bedroom, his hair messily pushed back from his face and you're sure he hadn't bathed yet either. You gasped when you saw a knife and a small mouse in his hands. You heard its hysterical squeaking, wriggling in Seonghwa’s fist trying to escape. 

“Morning to you too, Brother,” Hongjoong drawled. “Please, join us…” 

“Give me your hand,” he said to you, roughly taking your wrist. 

“Master!”

“Hwa! What the hell are you-Hwa!”

You yelped in pain as the blade slipped down the pad of your thumb. Seonghwa squeezed it until thick droplets of blood started spilling. He brought the mouse up to your thumb, and you saw the pure white coat stained with red. The creature wriggling in his hand, Seonghwa placed it on the table. Your stomach turned seeing the suffering animal. Reaching forward for water, you moved to relieve and clean the animal before Seonghwa snatched the glass from you. Manic squeaks and squeals slowly faded, its tiny limbs eventually coming still as the mouse fell limp. A few final breaths became very still in seconds. 

“Oh no,” you frowned, allowed to draw closer. “Why would you do that?” you snapped at Seonghwa, forgetting yourself. “He was an innocent little mouse-”

“-He did exactly what I expected. He drank your blood, YN,” he cut you off. “He drank your blood and died.”

“What? That's…” 

But he was right. Looking down at the table, your blood still stained its mouth. You never heard of mice dying from drinking blood. Your mind tried pulling an explanation to counter Seonghwa's theory but nothing came. The mouse sat dead next to your breakfast, eyes still open and mouth gaped. You rubbed the dried blood between your thumb and forefinger in thought. Something inside you refused to believe it. Seonghwa and Hongjoong must be playing some sort of trick on you. 

“Um, okay, wow,” said Hongjoong uncomfortably. “That's interesting. Care to explain what this is all about, Seonghwa?”

“Andromeda.”

“What about her?”

“YN is her daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. Pet is a cambion, sure,” Hongjoong laughed in disbelief. 

“She is.” 

He withdrew a piece of paper from his robe pocket and placed it in front of you. By the frailty and faded ink, it came from one of his older books. Your mouth dropped when you saw the portrait of a young woman wearing the medieval garb of a lady. Her face so similar to yours, she kept her hair underneath a cloth held with a golden circlet. Mama. It reminded you of that one Halloween party from your childhood. You'd dressed as a fairytale princess, and you requested your mother be a queen. She'd worn something similar then too. Your head started shaking. Underneath it, Seonghwa had written over the name. 

“Andromeda, daughter of Princess Lilith, botanical sorceress, Lady of Eden, 1st generation.” 

Hongjoong said what you'd been thinking. “Andromeda? Our half-cousin Andromeda?” he scoffed. “No way.”

“Nobody knows what Andromeda got up to when she left. She didn't contact anyone down here,” he said. “She very easily could have married a human and had a child with them.”

“Then why didn't she register her?”

“She might not have wanted Lilith to know about her,” he replied. He turned to you, “Your mother was a demon. She was a half cousin through Lilith, our aunt. Her blood was poisonous; so poisonous it killed people in seconds. You can do that too.”

“No, I can't.”

“Then explain what just happened,” he challenged, nodding to the dead mouse. “Did the mouse eat some bad cheese? Maybe it passed out due to shock? Got sleepy? YN, so many things are strange about you. Other people around here might not have noticed, but I am starting to.”

“I'm human. I have to be,” you disagreed again. “I can't be anything else. If my mother was a demon, she wouldn't have let my dad beat her. She'd fight back. She could've killed him. My mom…” you looked down at the picture, “She was an angel. I was the bad one. Sh-She liked baking cookies and knitting. She read me bedtime stories, looked after me when I was sick, made me lunch, watched movies with me and took me everywhere with her. My mama wasn't a demon. Demons are cruel and mean. My mama was a sweetheart, the nicest woman you'd ever meet. If she were a demon, she wouldn't have…” 

Your throat closed up and you stopped speaking. You tried finding the lie in your memories. You might have missed it in a passing moment; she may have tried telling you and you ignored her. Mama never kept secrets from you. You held her photo in your hands. Her face bloomed in the forefront of your mind. Not the face of a demon, but of an angel. You pictured that face with a busted lip, or a black eye, sitting by your bed to check your temperature. You saw her in the backyard garden, gently touching the flowers as they bloomed. She’d admire them on her fingertips. You remembered one daisy blooming right in her palm. 

“She was,” said Seonghwa, breaking into your thoughts. “There are too many similarities to ignore.”

Hongjoong touched your braid, letting it wrap around one of his fingers. “I’ve never fucked a second-cousin before…” he said lustfully, “Sounds hot.”

“Hongjoong, please,” Seonghwa said sharply. “Kitten, there is one more thing I’d like to test.”

“Because using my blood to kill a little mouse isn’t good enough?”

“A real scientist doesn’t base their hypothesis on a single test,” he said. He stood up straight and said, “I want to take you to the greenhouse.” 

“What? No!” Hongjoong protested, “The greenhouse is for the other servants and slaves, not Pet.”

“Dennis is the only thing that can prove the other part of my theory.”

“No,” Hongjoong said more strongly. “Dennis will devour her.”

“No, he won’t. She has demon blood. She has Andromeda’s blood in her veins. If anything, he’ll love her.” 

“Seonghwa, no,” he shook his head. “It's my day with her and we already have plans.”

“Your plans will have to wait. This is important.”

“And who exactly are you to be ordering her around on my day?” 

“The eldest son of Prince Asmodeus, The Duke of Lust, a Lord of Depravity and Master of this house,” he retorted firmly, anger flaring in his eyes. “You can skip work and go with her if you want. You can be the heroic knight to her damsel in distress.” Seonghwa looked down at you, cupping your chin gently, “This is really important. If you’re an unregistered cambion, we need to fix it before anyone else finds out.”

“Why does that matter?”

“It matters because it means you’re not a slave.”

The words took you by surprise. “But, I’ve seen cambion slaves before?”

“They’re there by choice or circumstance,” he shrugged. “Cambions live freely here, and can live well depending on how high they are in the food chain. If someone found out you lived here, we'd all be in serious trouble.”

“Pfft, what kind of trouble? You guys are nobility. It's not like you'd get thrown into prison or anything.”

“We would,” said Hongjoong, serious as he gazed at Seonghwa. “Having an unregistered cambion in your house is almost like having kidnapped someone. Since we stole you rather than paid for you, they'll think we kidnapped you.”

“Obviously with a little look in my head, they'll see that's not true.”

“They won't care. San…” he sighed defeatedly, rubbing a temple. “He shouldn't have killed him.”

“Is murder illegal around here?”

“If it's demon on demon crime, yes,” he said. “Just because we're in Hell doesn't mean there aren't rules or laws in place. How else would our society keep going without it?”

“A lot of things would come out if the wrong person found out about you,” Seonghwa said. “I have to fix this. If I get down to the registration office now, I can head this off.”

“They'll ask about her.”

“Jackson is there,” he said. “He's head of the registration department. He'll help me out with a bit of money.” He quickly pecked your lips. “I'll see you tonight, Kitten.”

“This greenhouse sounds pretty unsafe,” you said anxiously. 

“Nonsense. You’ll have me, Hongjoong and Mingi with you.”

“No, you’re not going to inject yourself into my day with Pet,” Hongjoong said firmly, putting his arms around you. “You go sit in someone’s head and learn all the terrible things they’ve done. Pet and I will be going to the dungeons like I’ve planned.”

“Hongjoong-”

“-You can do your little experiment on your own day with her. I honestly do not care either way if she is a cambion or not. She’s still going to be my sweet pet,” he said, taking a drink of wine. “It only seems to matter to you, so do it on your own time.”

“As the eldest-”

“-Take your age and shove it up your ass, Hwa.”

“Don’t make me drill a hole in your head. We’d hate for you to lose any brain cells still left to you-”

“-Try it then, pretty boy-”

“-Hey, have you guys seen the mouse I had in this trap?” San came through the door holding a small metal box. Too distracted by trying to peek inside, he didn’t notice his brothers glaring at one another. “I was going to give it to the hellcat that keeps sniffing around the scullery door.” He looked up and saw you first. He gave a soft smile, “Well, don’t you look pretty like that? Maybe we should keep you naked all the time.” Then he saw the mouse next to your plate and frowned, “Aw, man. Who killed it?”

“YN did, technically,” said Seonghwa, still staring at Hongjoong. “She has poisonous blood.”

San let out a soft laugh, “Ridiculous. If that were true, we’d all be dead by now.”

“We never drank enough. This mouse, however, drank plenty.”

San came over to poke the dead animal. “I guess that hellcat will have to eat scraps again.” He looked at Seonghwa again, then at Hongjoong, “Have you two been arguing again?”

“Seonghwa wants YN to go to the greenhouse and see if Dennis will eat her.”

“What?” San’s eyes opened wide, “Seonghwa, we can’t do that. She’s a human. Dennis will devour her.”

“He won’t,” Seonghwa said confidently. “If she’s anything like her mother, and if this mouse isn’t already an indication, Dennis won’t do anything to seriously harm her.”

“Okay, yes, the mouse thing is weird,” San agreed, “But taking her there? Damnit, Seonghwa, even I don’t want to go there and I’m the best with swords.”

“And I prefer to keep my head in tact, thank you very much,” added Hongjoong. “Pet is coming with me to the dungeons. You can go with her another time.”

“If anyone should go, it should be Seonghwa,” said San. “They won’t harm him. He made them.”

“No, they won’t,” said Seonghwa, “Which is why she is safe if she goes with me.”

“And you can do that on your own day with Pet. I am taking her with me, and that’s final,” Hongjoong concluded.

“He does have a point, Brother,” San leaned towards Seonghwa, who stewed in his resentment, “Whatever weird experiment you have planned can always wait. Hongjoong doesn’t get to be around Darling all that much. He does work a lot more than either of us.”

“Thank you, Sannie,” said Hongjoong.

“Besides, you'll need to register her as soon as possible. Any experiments will keep you from getting there before they close,” San added. 

Seonghwa looked at the three of you in defeat. He'd have to wait, and he hated that. “Alright, fine. I'll go to the office.” 

Seonghwa turned from Hongjoong to you. Normally, his eyes would be drinking in the sight of you, but not today. He examined your face. You almost heard the wheels in his mind turning as he considered his options. The dead mouse will stay with him the rest of the day. A mind like his does not simply let things go. You gazed back at him innocently. Yes, what happened concerned you; the possibility of facing a higher punishment for it definitely worried you. Your mother’s portrait on the table burned its eyes into you from afar; her name and birth year bold and black against the worn out page. You couldn’t find a proper explanation, no matter how hard you tried. It only raised more questions for you.

“You’re not going to take her to the dungeons like that, are you?” asked San with concern.

“Of course not,” Hongjoong scoffed. “Wooyoung is waiting in her dressing room. I want her to look extra special for today. Mingi!” 

When Mingi came out of the shadows, you wondered how much he'd heard. He thought you didn't know he liked creeping in the dark corners of the keep to watch over you. Your bodyguard claimed he did it as part of his job, but today is proving it's more than only work. 

“Yes, sir?”

“Take Pet to Wooyoung. She needs to get ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

The three brothers each gave you a soft kiss and farewell before you left the room. Out in the hallway, underneath the morning sunlight, you started thinking. You pictured every time you found your mother in her workroom in the flower shop or in her personal garden. Plants commonly grow in their seasons. Daffodils thrived in the spring; marigolds bloomed brighter in the summer; petunias grow best in the fall, and primrose was a winter flower. Yet, in your mother's garden, they grew regardless of the season. The herbs she used in cooking sat on the kitchen window, always bright and never wilting. You always thought she must've had an extraordinary green thumb. It never occurred to you that perhaps she might be able to control them. But, if she had poisoned blood, why did your father live so long?

“Morning, sunshine,” Wooyoung greeted you when you entered the dressing room. One of the assistants put you in your usual robe, “What’s the occasion today?”

“I’m going to the lower dungeons,” you said, not really acknowledging him as you sat at the vanity table.

“Oof, that’ll be an experience,” he laughed, moving over to a rack of winter clothes, “You’ll need to bundle up then. I’ll keep makeup minimal today.”

“He’s taking you there?” asked Mingi with surprise. “Is he insane? You shouldn’t go there.”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you told him in the mirror.

“After everything going on, he wants to prance you out into the world as a slave?” Mingi continued incredulously. “He can't beat any possible allegations if he is flaunting you in front of people.”

“Allegations?” Wooyoung’s head perked up at this. Sensing gossip, he turned from the closet, “What allegations?”

“The Masters think I'm a cambion,” you answered. 

Wooyoung gasped. “Shut up, no they don't!” 

“They do.”

“What makes them think that?”

You told him about the dead mouse as he worked your hair into a plait. Wooyoung’s jaw dropped when you explained the portrait and her name. 

“I don’t get it though,” you said when you finished. “If I had special traits or whatever, wouldn’t they have shown themselves by now?”

“I’m sure the only reason they’re revealing themselves now is because you’re around us so much,” said Mingi. “In the human world, you didn’t have any other demon relatives and your mother didn’t nurture that side of you. She might have thought you didn’t have them anyways, which would be incredibly stupid of her to believe.” 

“I never showed it, so why would she think that?” you defended her. “I didn’t have anything particularly interesting about me like that. It wasn’t until I started high school and began working.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“Getting what I wanted out of people was my superpower, not plants,” you stated. “I can see that my charm or manipulation of people could be a trait, but nothing else. I stopped going to my family’s flower shop when I started high school, and I lost interest in gardening with my mom. I don’t have any connection to plants like Seonghwa thinks. That’s dumb, and weird.”

“Not really,” said Wooyoung. 

And untrue. Your mother let you help her a lot of the time. Being surrounded by the various flora, it became a home away from home. The only time you avoided it was when your father ran the store. He always disturbed your peace by forcing you to work the front counter or stock other merchandise. Mama let you handle the plants. It felt therapeutic. You only stopped going because you wanted to be cool. Cool people didn’t work. 

That must have killed her. 

You were such an asshole. 

“Damnit,” Wooyoung’s sharp curse cut through your thoughts, “They didn’t leave the makeup kit. How could they forget that? It’s the most important part! How can I make you glow when you’re lifeless and dull?”

“Um, wow.”

“Hush, you know what I mean. I can’t make you sparkle without the right tools,” he sighed irritably to himself. “I’ll be back. You stay here.”

Alone with Mingi, you continued staring at yourself in the mirror. ’Botanical Sorceress’ the paper had read. The longer you thought about it, the harder ignoring it became. You pictured your mother sitting in a room full of plant life. She’d feed off them while they fed off her. But, you couldn’t wrap your head around your father. Did he know and that’s why he hated her? Your mother claimed he loved her, but you found that hard to believe. You couldn’t recall a single time your father showed her any softness. You recalled a time he chastised her for not bringing him take out at work; a thing he could’ve easily have done himself. When she walked away in tears, you decided then you’d never be her. If she had demonic abilities, why did she let that happen? 

“You really do look like her though,” Mingi cut through your thoughts. “I can see the family resemblance.”

“I think that’s why he hated me.”

“Who?”

“My dad.”

“You think he hated you because you looked like her?”

“Or maybe because he knew what I was, and never said anything. I can’t imagine him being okay with marrying a demon,” you said, playing with the end of your braid. “If she never told me, I doubt she told him.” 

“Maybe if she had, he would have run away and she would've raised you on her own. That's what happened with my parents. My father found out about me and ran tail to the living world."

“Seems demons aren’t so different from humans after all.”

“I’ll be one of the few to admit that,” he nodded. “A lot of our society down here mimics the human world. Your currency and class systems; your government, your culture, languages, clothes, and forms of entertainment. My mother used to tell me how much different Inferno used to be before humans. You’d think we were primitive.” 

“I’ve noticed it before, especially with the masters’ different styles. It’s so…”

“Exaggerated?”

“A bit.”

He walked over to you, hands on your shoulders. “Now that you’re a cambion,” he said, “You won’t be forced to wear and live how they want. You could have all this crap thrown out,” he gestured to the different closets around the room, “And have your own clothes made. You’d get to do what you wanted…” his eyes looked down to your exposed chest, “And who you wanted.”

You giggled at his sudden change in tone. “Oh, what, Mingi? You’d be my pleasure slave instead of my bodyguard?”

“I wouldn’t mind the demotion,” he smirked, hands sliding down your shoulders. Your body tensed when he kissed your neck. “It’d be worth it if I get to fuck you as often as possible.”

You turned in your seat to face him, seeing the lust filling his eyes. Tracing his sharp jawline with your fingers, you stopped at his chin to run your thumb under his lower lip. Bringing him in for a kiss, you kept it light with your lips hardly touching his own. He hummed when your tongue flicked over his lips, and darted his tongue out to meet yours. Standing up, you guided him backwards to a couch where you stood between his knees. Mingi’s hands ran up and down your hips and thighs as you slowly began swaying and whirling your hips. Seeing his mesmerized stare, you felt your sex tightening from arousal. He made it too easy to tease him. 

“Fuck…” he breathed when you sat right on his crotch. 

His bulge pressing to your pussy, you let out soft moans that made him throb. You felt his hand slide up your spine to your shoulder while the other went down to your ass. A light tap to your cheek brought forth a whine. Right as he grew comfortable with your grinding, you stood up to straddle facing him. You leaned forward to kiss him, the both of you moaning as you grinded into one another. Mingi’s large hands felt rough against your soft skin, much like Hongjoong’s. His full lips kissing down your neck to your breast raised the heat between you. A sudden flare of need burned between your thighs. The outline of his dick grew against his slacks, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into it. 

“Where do you want it, Mistress?” he moaned into your neck, smacking your ass the way you liked. 

“My pussy,” you answered breathily. “I want your dick stretching my tight pussy.”

Mingi had just laid you down when a cough interrupted you. Yunho stood in the doorway, doing his best to ignore your position as he spoke. 

“Wooyoung had to rush back to his shop,” he said, “So, you’ll have to get dressed on your own.”

“She can do that later,” huffed Mingi, who went back to grinding into you as he massaged your breasts. “She’s busy.”

“Master Hongjoong is almost finished getting dressed. He’ll be waiting for her in the car.”

“It won’t take long.” 

“Mingi,” Yunho said his name sternly. 

You saw the frustration pent up in Mingi’s clenched jaw. You kissed him briefly, putting your hand over his, “We can always do this later.”

“But, I want you now,” he groaned, kissing you deeply. “I want to fuck you, Mistress. Please, tell him to leave so I can pound you into the couch.”

“Mingi,” you giggled, “Go.”

“Can I have a taste at least?” he pouted, brown eyes big and pleading. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Mingi.”

“Fine,” he huffed, kneeling up and taking a deep breath. “Yunho’s right-”

“-Yes, I am-”

“-Master Hongjoong will throw a fit if you’re late,” he said, sliding off the couch. “I suggest bundling up for the lower dungeons. The ninth circle is the coldest point in Hell.”

“Okay.”

His eyes traveled down your body to your bare sex. You couldn’t help yourself from spreading your thighs to show him your wetness. Teasing Mingi became amusing. He gulped thickly at the sight of you gently rolling your fingers around your clit. The snap of fingers broke his concentration, and you saw that Yunho conjured a silver platter with two small crystal vials. He brought them over to you and Mingi. 

“Cold serum,” he answered your questionable faces, “None of us has time for sex. There’s more important things going on. Drink.”

Mingi begrudgingly opened one and let the drops touch his tongue. You copied him, shuddering at the chilly, clear liquid dropping into your mouth. It reminded you of cough medicine with its bitter, sharp taste. The heat in your cheeks immediately cooled down. You almost felt steam coming out of your ears, and the thumping of your heart slowing down. The juices covering your sex dried up almost instantly, turning into an uncomfortable crust that you couldn't ignore. Any arousal you had disappeared in seconds. 

“Good. Mingi, get some breakfast,” Yunho ordered, “And YN, you should finish getting dressed. You both have a long day ahead of you, so there's no time for delay.” 

Mingi, palming his softening bulge, gave you another longing glance before going out the doors. Alone once more, you moved to clean the mess between your legs. 

“Mistress…Come to me, please. I suffer through this hunger alone.”

You whipped around, expecting Wooyoung or Mingi to have returned. Except, you only saw the open doorway. Your throat closed up on the words you tried to say. 

“I must feed….I need your essence….”

The low hiss sound from somewhere outside the dressing room. Picking up your robe, you walked back into your bedroom. You stared around for the source of the voice, but didn't see anyone. 

“Mingi?” 

“Mistress….”

You followed the voice out into the hallway. Hongjoong waited for you downstairs, so you knew you shouldn't take long. But, your feet continued moving as curiosity got the better of you. The voice continued whispering, and you swore it sounded from inside your head. You hesitated at the top landing of the stairs. Staring down into the carpeted staircase, your ears strained to locate the sound. A part of you said you should go back. You should wait for Wooyoung, and then go to work with Hongjoong. He’ll be extremely upset if you make him late. He’ll use it as an excuse to “punish” you. But, that strange desire pulled you down the stairs. Instinct led you through the house  into the garden. Here, the voice became louder. Walking past flower beds and grassy hedges, the strange voice came out amongst the leaves and petals. You almost thought it might be coming from the plants themselves. 

Walking through the garden, your body relaxed to the sunshine. The cold serum you'd drunk melted away from your bones. Something pulled you further down the winding paths, and towards an archway leading off from the garden. Apprehension kept you by the entrance. Down the long footpath, you saw glimpses of a building in the distance. The greenhouse. The voice, like a call in the wind, stayed firmly in your head. You must go further. You took tentative steps across the cool earth underneath you. Your robe felt stifling in the humid air, but you didn’t dare take it off in the woodland area. The sounds of birds came from somewhere above you, with other animals likely hiding in the bushes and shrubs. Last thing you wanted were bug bites. 

A tall structure made of iron and glass stood at the end in a circular clearing. Stained glass windows lined the wide dome ceiling, with iron details weaving intricate patterns on the frosted glass walls. The plants lining the bottom seemed healthier than those of the natural woods. You found their bright citrus colors strange for the current season. Their stems grew against the outer walls, blossoms on the vines covering the front door. You wondered how you could get through when the withered branches slid aside. Taking a deep breath, you turned the knob. 

The place came alive the moment you entered. Every lungful breathed life back into you. Being amongst the lush greenery and the hard packed dirt brought you back to a simpler time. You gazed around to see the place covered from top to bottom in varieties of plants. Without saying anything, you walked over to a pink and purple hibiscus hanging out of its pot. Melancholy came over you seeing its withering petals and drooping stem. It looked so alone and sad. Holding it up by your fingertips, you imagined it bright and blossoming as it should. 

And then it did. The hibiscus’s lank, wrinkled petals gradually became colorful and healthy; its limp stems and leaves turned into a strong dark green. It might as well have always been this way. A certain kind of strength radiated from the delicate plants. You gasped and let go of it, but you couldn’t let go of the strangeness. 

“Mistress…”

You turned your head to find the voice, but didn’t see anyone there. Walking to a planter of yellow flowers, you noticed their strange petal formation. They resembled Canterbury bells, only these had their petals upright. When you took a closer look, they resembled lips. 

“You're cute,” you grinned, finding the strange flower more endearing than off putting. 

Leaning down, you tried getting a sniff before one of them tilted towards you. You’d moved back, seeing the bright yellow petals opening and closing like puckering lips. The others around it began doing the same, all of them vying for your attention. You heard their cooing and sniffing, and you closely examined one of them. They smelled like honeysuckle, or some relation to it. The most curious one brushed itself to your cheek, humming delightfully as you let it “kiss” you. 

“Must feed…”

“Is that you guys?” you stupidly asked the sentient flowers. 

They shook their heads. Flowers do not shake their heads. You gasped when something soft bumped into your leg. Looking down, you saw a few of the lip-flowers poking through your robe. You giggled, their soft petals akin to real human mouths. They bumped your robe enough to open it, their petals touching your warm thighs. It sent tingles up your spine, and you let out a soft giggle. This should shock or scare you, yet it didn’t. It felt playful. Flirty. Fun. 

“Naughty,” you said coyly. You bent down to cup one in your hand, seeing it giving you smooching motions, “Do you know where that voice is coming from?” you asked sweetly. 

The yellow mouth slipped from your hand and turned towards the other end of the walkway. “Thank you.” 

You actually gave it a small kiss, causing the flower to shudder with delight. Walking where the yellow-mouth indicated, you reached a wall of four leaf flowers with bright white, yellow and pink petals. Getting within a few feet of them, they ruffled and hummed. Your gut told you to keep your distance, but you couldn’t help it. Gently, you traced a finger over one of the arrow-shaped petals. The inner parts were magenta with yellow and white gradient towards the tips. The flower vibrated against your fingertips, and you giggled from the sudden shock. The sound of rustling leaves made you turn around. 

“Ah!” you screamed. 

Dragging its way over to you was a plant about half your height. Orange and purple petals fanned out like a lion’s mane, a long slit baring sharp teeth startled you. Thick leaves acted like arms, billowing slightly as it moved to you; it hissed through its teeth as it moved closer. Your heart thumped in your chest, and your feet went backwards to escape it. Your back hitting the wall, the other flowers vibrated. Immediately, they hummed against your skin like a body massager. Your fear shot through your throat and down into your stomach, twisting it in circles. A quick flash of what this plant might do came across you, and you nearly screamed. The sluggish plant came right up to you, its head pointed up as it reached out. 

“Mistress…”

“Huh?”

The plant moved away to let you step from the wall. Then, it started moving towards an archway of flowers. The foreboding darkness beyond should have been a clue to stay behind to anyone normal. But, you are not ‘normal’, are you? 

Walking away from the floral wall, you followed the walking plant. The sheltered archway ran down into the darkness, where the vegetation was thickest. As you walked through, engulfed in the muggy atmosphere, your nerves began settling down. It felt like home. Your hands went to the tie of your robe, and the smooth fabric slid off your shoulders. Your bare skin exposed to the elements, you felt rejuvenated. Your skin absorbed whatever floated in the air, basking in it. 

In a secluded part of the greenhouse, you saw several orange and white flowers growing from the walls. Their petals opened up upon your arrival, their stigmas resembling darts. You saw their heads turning as you walked by, like snipers following their target. 

“Mistress…”

It sat against the back wall. Thick vines kept it stuck to the walls and floors around it, with large petals as big as small beds underneath it. Its petals resembled those of a lotus, pointed but deep shades of orange instead of pink. It had no visible eye sockets, but you still felt it watching you. Vines sticking from behind the petals stayed upright, curved as if waiting to reach out and grab you. In the center of the petals, you saw a vertical slit with pointed teeth like your guide. A Venus Flytrap mixed with a lotus flower. Dennis. The creature everyone in The Black Keep feared beyond anything else. Seeing his massive size, you understood. Dennis could likely eat an entire horse in one swallow. 

“Hello, Dennis,” you said. Your greenhouse guide slumped away to a corner, where it became one with the vegetation against the wall. A child of Dennis, you guessed. 

"Mistress,” Dennis said in a low hiss, “Please, I must feed. These demons and their slaves do not fulfill me.”

“And what is it you need?”

You heard more soft hissing, and out of the corner of your eye you saw something creeping along the floor. “Your essence,” he said, vines starting to coil and extend. “Your sighs and sweat. It is the only thing that sustains me. My creator gives me scraps. I wish for full meals. Please, Mistress, let me drink from you. Let me absorb you. It has been too long.”

A soft vine wrapped itself around one ankle, and your entire body froze. 

****

“Whoever invented cold serum should be burned at the stake.”

Mingi leaned against the kitchen wall. With you safely sitting in the dressing room, he’d gone into the kitchen for a quick breakfast. Chewing into a breakfast wrap, he watched Yunho polishing silverware by a sideboard. The tall greed demon insisted that nobody polished Master Seonghwa’s utensils better than him. Mingi agreed. The gold forks, knives and spoons shined in the half-light. All around them, servants washed, cooked, and cleaned. He saw maids taking baskets of laundry into the scullery, and footmen walking out into the car garage with car-washing equipment. Cook, a portly demon with big horns and dark crimson skin, mumbled to himself as he prepared ingredients for lunch. The servants’ quarters and the kitchen were the busiest places in the entire keep.

“If you'd fucked her,” Yunho said, “Master Hongjoong would be late for work. He's already irritated because he has been waiting ten minutes.” 

“But…” he sighed, “She feels so good.”

He laughed, “I bet.” 

“I was so close, and you snatched it from me,” he grunted and threw a napkin at him. Yunho and him both shared a laugh, before the elder spoke. 

“So, she's a cambion, huh?”

“Master Seonghwa says that her blood poisoned the mouse. I don’t know of any humans who can do that, do you?”

“Is that what happened?” Yunho whipped his head over to him, “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” he nodded. “I heard the whole thing from outside the doors. Master Seonghwa wanted to take her to the greenhouse, but Master Hongjoong was against it.”

“For obvious reasons. That creature devours anything and anyone who crosses its path. I remember finding Linette stumbling through the garden dazed and delirious.”

“Did she tell you what happened?” he asked with interest.

“She said she’d gone in there to water the plants, and she got too close to the archway,” he said, going back to polishing a fork. “She told me he fucked her senselessly. She couldn’t sit down for days.”

“How delicious.”

Mingi couldn’t help picturing you the same way. His mind went back to your first night with Hongjoong. Tears streaked down your soft cheeks, each hit causing a sob or whimper that made him incredibly hard. He had you right in his arms. He’d been minutes from having his cock deep in your throat. Then, Yunho took it away. Mingi internally groaned thinking about it. Your soft gagging, choking and sobbing would have him cumming in minutes. You’re big enough of a slut to orgasm from that alone.

“He almost ate her afterwards,” said Yunho. “She managed to get away somehow; she says she doesn’t remember.”

“Gosh, could you imagine if she really is one? She wouldn’t be a slave anymore.”

“Maybe that’s why Master Seonghwa is so worried about it,” he guessed. “If she is a cambion, then they can all be in serious trouble. Harboring an unregistered cambion is illegal.”

“I think they’re more worried about her having freedom.” Jongho stood nearby with a tray of dirty dishes. He dumped them in the sink as he said, “If she has freedom, she’s not under their control anymore; they won’t have a pleasure slave.”

“They’d have to treat her like a person,” Yunho snorted. 

“Who’re we talking about?” Yeosang walked across the kitchen, munching an apple. Mingi noticed he wore a plain shirt and pajama bottoms. A day off for your main handler. 

“YN. She’s a cambion,” Jongho told him, turning on the water to start rinsing dishes. 

“Psh, ridiculous,” Yeosang jeered. “YN? No, they must be mistaken.”

“It’s true,” Yunho said, polishing the knives. “Master Seonghwa found evidence to prove it. He’s on his way to the registration office right now.”

“Who’s her demon parent?”

“Andromeda,” Mingi answered. “She was one of Lilith’s daughters.”

“Ah, so a cousin to our masters,” Yeosang bit into his apple, chewing it before he said, “They must be mistaken. YN is a human. She’s shown no signs of any sort of demonic ability.”

“Apparently, she killed a mouse,” said Yunho.

“How?”

“With her blood.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s true,” Mingi chimed in, “I saw the mouse myself. It had blood all over its mouth.” 

Yeosang took the information quietly. He munched on his apple, leaning against one of the counters. “Hm…So, she did break the doors last night…How interesting. How could she have gotten away with this for so long? Somebody before now must’ve realized it.”

“She must’ve not been around demons,” said Yunho. “And those slum brothels are not exactly training grounds. My guess is since she’s in close quarters with multiple demons, her abilities are beginning to flourish.”

“Perhaps,” Yeosang nodded. “If her mother kept it a secret…then no, she wouldn’t have known. Master Seonghwa must be delighted,” he chuckled through his apple. Biting off a piece, he then said, “Imagine the experiments he’ll put her through. It’ll be intriguing to see. I hope he lets me sit in on them.”

“He’s taking her to the greenhouse,” said Mingi. 

Yeosang’s eyes widened, “Is he now? Is that safe? Dennis can be quite ferocious if he’s hungry enough.”

“I’ll be with her,” Mingi said, “So, yes, it'll be safe.” 

“When was he last fed?” asked Jongho out of curiosity. “Who was there last?”

“Charlotte,” answered Yunho, “She went last week, I believe. She still has those little marks from the yellow-mouths.”

“I quite like those,” he said. “They’re cute.” 

“Yeah, if they’re just kissing your cheeks and you’re not trapped in their garden bed.” 

“I like it,” Jongho shrugged. “I fell in it one time by accident, and it was a unique experience. They got my pants open and started doing that kissing thing all over my dick,” he chuckled softly, washing a dish in the soapy water. “Psh, trust me, boys. If you like overstimulation, the yellow-mouths are the way to go.”

“Sorry, I’m not very eager to fuck plants,” Yeosang rolled his eyes and bit his apple. 

“Imagine YN fucking them,” Mingi sighed, finishing his wrap and tossing the paper aside. “She’d look so pretty in the dirt with them all over her.”

“Please, don’t start,” laughed Jongho. “I already have to watch the woman bathe and dress all the time. Don’t give me any more wet dreams.”

“All she gives me are wet dreams,” sighed Mingi. 

He thought about the possibilities. If you no longer wore a collar, that meant he could have you. You’d be a Mistress, and they’d all be at your mercy. He’d gladly give up his blades and armor to be your personal pleasure slave. 

“Very. I somewhat hope Master Seonghwa is right,” Yunho admitted, picking up a wine glass next. He started wiping the metal stem, “If they take away her slave status and she’s given a title, she wouldn’t have to bind herself to anyone.”

Mingi snorted, “And you could keep watching her through your little peepholes.”

“Don’t act as if you don’t listen at the doors,” Yunho smirked knowingly. “I’ve seen the boners you get standing there just listening.” 

“You should see the ones I get helping her bathe,” Jongho said, putting the last dish on the drying rack. Grabbing a dish towel, he wiped his hands and arms as he said, “I’m just saying: if she becomes a Mistress to the house, I’ll turn in my gloves and put on a collar for her.”

The rest of them laughed. Yunho moved to speak before the nearby door burst open. They all looked to see Wooyoung, eyes widened and terror in his face. 

“Mingi, Mingi!” Wooyoung hurried over to him, “YN’s missing.”

“What?” he stood up straight, his body going into work-mode. “How? When?”

“I left her in the dressing room to grab my makeup kit from my shop, right? When I came back, she was not there!”

That did not sound like you. Mingi admitted you certainly understood your place in the house. You knew leaving your room would hold everything up; it’d hold up Hongjoong, who was not the patient brother. Mingi turned to the window beside him. The kitchen and scullery had a small courtyard that led out into the gardens beyond. 

The outskirts of Inferno were lush and full of life, albeit a little hot at night. But, the picturesque landscape hid all kinds of ferocious beasts meant to stalk and attack lost souls. From what he always understood, people who land in Hell are met with a dense forest. They have to survive the everchanging elements, the predators in the trees and bushes, and try to avoid any sentient carnivorous flora. If they reach Inferno’s gates, they’re led into a whole new level of terror. Mingi knew he personally avoided going into the woods if he could help it. You’d begun embracing the seclusion and tranquility of the family gardens. If you’re anywhere, the garden is a good start.

“You all search the house and the grounds,” he said. “I’ll look in the gardens. She likes going there.”

“But why go there now?”

“Beats me,” he shrugged. “I’ll ask when I find her.”

He hurriedly walked out of the kitchen, faintly hearing Yunho call attention to the others. You knew better than to wander off on your own. Not only did his masters worry you might run away, but the woods were dangerous. Your safety is his sole responsibility. He is your bodyguard. If something happened to you under his watch, the masters would make him regret it. Walking through the straw-ladened courtyard, he saw servants already rushing to commence their search. He went past them to the garden doors, cutting through hedges and bushes. 

“YN!” he called out in the thick of the garden hedges. “YN, where are you?!”

No response. He wouldn’t forgive himself if you’d been attacked. He hated the idea of some vicious predator springing out of the bushes. Humans do not heal in Hell. Your injuries would fester and bleed out; being unable to really “die”, you’ll suffer until a demon takes mercy on you. Mingi pushed through bushes and hedges. He peeked over stone walls, checked inside the various enclosures and fountain areas. He didn’t see you anywhere. A terrible thought then occurred to him: the greenhouse. Maybe you stupidly decided to test Seonghwa’s theory on your own. A sickening feeling filled his insides, and injected more adrenaline into his veins. Mingi snapped his fingers, and teleported all the way across to the forest exit. There, he caught a whiff of cherry blossoms. 

Your sweet scent carried downwind from the dark path. Mingi unsheathed a knife from his belt and cautiously stepped inside. More sweet blossoms caught in his nose, and usually it made him dizzy. There’d been times where that floral fragrance lured him to you. Whenever he walked behind you, your hips swished it over to him. It’d make him long for closeness. He’d think about kneeling before you, kissing your thighs and hips as he groped you. Then, he’d slide his tongue over your sweet sex. Mingi shook his head when he reached the greenhouse door. The vines normally cutting people off remained to the side, allowing him to open the door with ease.

The plants always made him uneasy. Erotic creations of Seonghwa’s, each flower had its own purpose. The little yellow-mouths sucked and kissed to madness. The vibrating flowers, he knew, tickled someone until they pissed themselves or passed out from laughter. He saw a large orange and blue flower sitting amongst a bunch of smaller bulbous flowers. The plant wiggled a stamen from the center when he passed, asking for him to sit on it. He knew if he did, he’d never get out. 

Mingi hoped you hadn’t gone near the darker parts of the conservatory. There, Seonghwa created the deadlier plants: snake-like vines that trapped someone to a wall while they violated them; several purple flowers with vines that could entrap and suffocate their prey. He shuddered thinking of you becoming one of the cocooned victims of the Seonghwa’s spider-like plants. 

“Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes! Just like that! Fuck!”

He recognized your moans right away. It came from the darkened archway, and his stomach dropped. Dennis’s lair. Mingi held his knife tightly, then made his way into the darkness. He heard your heavy breathing, occasionally muffled or disrupted in between groans. Mingi gulped thickly imagining what he might find. A soft pressure under his boots made Mingi look down. Your robe, pure white with floral stitching, laid on the ground. His entire body shuddered. His palms started sweating, and he swallowed the thickness of his throat when he finally found you. 

Lifted off the ground by four vines, two of them kept your legs open as a fifth and sixth focused on your center. Your back contorted to the pleasure the vines created, writhing in their grasp as they “fed” off you. Mingi tucked away his knife, his jaw dropping when a thick vine snaked its way between your parted lips. The sensual sounds you made told him you’d sucked it plenty of times already. He took in the shape of your lips and the hollowness of your cheeks. By the lewd gagging, he knew Dennis sunk himself deep in your throat. That familiar warmth the serum froze off slowly returned. Mingi moved further into the room, staying on the fringes and keeping his eyes on you. When he got a look at the front, he salivated. 

One yellow-mouthed flower focused on your hard clit, no doubt kissing and sucking the erect nub. Two tendrils, about as thick as any demon, shoved in and out of your wet holes with ease. A creamy white substance oozed each time one of them withdrew, and Mingi audibly groaned. He loved picturing your pussy after the masters finished with you. He thought of them smearing their seeds all over your tight walls; he pictured himself filling you until his cum gushed back out. When one tentacle pulled out, it smeared your throbbing clit with more fluids for the yellow-mouth to feed off. He groaned again, eager to taste it himself. 

Unbuckling himself, Mingi stuck his hand in his pants. He watched two thin vines wrap around your breasts. They bounced in the plant’s grasp, your nipples hardening when the tips teased them. Mingi breathed deeply seeing another slide between your tits, up your throat and into your mouth again. The one that it replaced slipped behind you, and Mingi groaned, picturing what might be happening. Your stifled moans went in time with the two inside you; you stayed helpless and limp in their grasp, surrendering yourself to them. Taking hold of himself, Mingi started in slow strokes. He wanted to be deep in your mouth; your tongue tracing the thick veins. He’d give anything to have at least that pleasure. 

“Mingi?” 

His name came out in a surprised pant, and he looked to see you staring at him. Dennis, however, did not stop. He only slowed down enough for you to speak properly. 

“YN…I was looking for you…” he said, still idly pumping and focused on the drool on your chin. “I was…Wow…”

“You enjoy watching, don’t you?” you asked lustfully, whirling your hips around to get more inside you.

“I do,” he moaned, “But you know that. You’re such a fucking…”

“A what?” 

The vines holding pushed you upright, almost into a sitting position, and helped you bounce on the vines instead. You pushed your chest out for him, making sure they moved each time you did. Your moans became louder; you whimpered and pleaded with him. He loved seeing you like this. He loved seeing you completely bare, writhing from pleasure and needing more of it. Mingi thought of every time he listened to his masters bed you; he constantly wished it were him making you cum that way. San’s comment of keeping you naked all the time haunted him. He wouldn’t be able to do his job if you walked naked freely. He suffered from his visions enough. 

“A tease,” he growled, tugging down his pants to pull himself out. Mingi gritted his teeth when you stuck out your tongue for another vine to fill it. “God, you’re a fucking tease. You know how badly I want to fuck you, and you constantly dangle yourself in front of me.”

“I thought you liked that?” you played dumb, letting him see you drool over the quivering vine. 

“I do,” he said, “If I’m the one who gets to fuck you.” 

“And it’s sad when you can’t, huh?” you licked up the throbbing vine, keeping your eyes on him. 

“It is. That's all I think about when I see you.”

“What do you think about?” you grabbed it with both hands and stroked it while you sucked the tip. 

“Get the fuck over here and I'll show you.”

He stormed over and nearly yanked you out of the plant’s grasp. Falling into his arms, Mingi put you on the soft-packed earth, straddled your middle, and forced your face to his cock. A rush of relief came over him the moment your tongue touched his thick head. Your scent captivated him. He forgot all reason and sense as he sunk further. He didn’t start slow. His primal instincts took over, and he held you by the hair. Every dirty thought he had about you sprung to life before his eyes. Each time he thought of sneaking into your bed came to his head. You’d teased him far too long. When creepers pushed your breasts together, he stuck himself between them. 

“Keep your tongue out,” he ordered, pumping himself with your tits, “Keep it out.”

You did for a moment, but you only flicked him. Mingi trembled each time his head reached your tongue. The gentle brushes along with your supple tits had him aching for a release. It grew even higher when more yellow-mouth flowers sprung up through the vines. Mingi quickened his pace when their airy kisses touched along his pelvis and inner thighs. He groaned deeply once they reached his balls. Unlike a human mouth, they lightly tickled him in every stroke. When he heard your own moans grow louder, he figured Dennis’s tentacles went back inside you.  

“Fuck…YN,” he breathed your name, watching you work him so easily. The intense pleasure built up in his balls, which only became more sensitive. He started pinching your nipples, making you moan on his cock. “Such a pretty slut,” he growled, pushing his hips forward into your face, “I guess we know the truth now, huh? Maybe you’re not a weak little human after all.”

He chuckled through gritted teeth when he felt tiny creepers slide up his torso to his buttoned shirt. The thin ivy popped off his buttons to flick his nipples. For some reason, he thought you might be making them do that. Mingi didn’t complain. He straddled your chest more, shoving himself in your greedy mouth. Streams of controlled moans came out as you sucked him more firmly, letting him dip into your throat every other thrust. When he withdrew, tapping his cock on your pretty face, you stuck out your tongue to lick his wet length. The vines inside you had you whining pathetically beneath him. He saw your hips moving up and down as you chased down more pleasure. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight before now. 

“You’re going to pay for it,” he grunted, “Pay for every time you flaunted yourself in front of me…For every time you made me hard and walked away…You’re a fucking slut, and you’re going to be treated like one.” 

What you said when he pulled out fueled him:

“Then do it.”

Releasing you, Mingi and Dennis let you roll onto your front. The fact that you so eagerly spread yourself and lifted your hips amused and pleased him. He watched the fat vine refill your gaped ass while a thinner one teased your clit slightly. That left your pussy all for him. He didn’t care if his master whipped him for it. He didn’t care if they slit his throat. He’d fuck your cunt like it was his. Your body sinking into the dirt, he knew any sweat or fluids replenished the ever-hungry plant behind you. It was how he fed, after all. 

“How many times has he made you cum, huh?” he said in your ear, sliding off his pants completely before burying himself deep in you. “One? Two?”

“Two!” you gasped when he suddenly filled you. He saw your fingers curl up in the soil, and tiny sprouts grow around them. “Just two!”

“Only two?” he slapped your ass, watching it ripple each time he met it. He watched Dennis fuck your ass in time with his thrusts. When he concentrated, Mingi could almost feel them touching inside you. “Just two? No, no,” he smacked your ass again, “We need you to cum way more than that. That’s barely enough to keep him properly fed.” 

He already felt your walls gripping him, and he nearly lost his mind. Mingi held onto your waist as he bottomed into you. He knew he’d eventually have his chance with you, since nearly all of them have, but he never imagined this. In the greenhouse, he could do whatever he liked with you. Cambion or not, he can ravage you as long as he wishes here. Nothing ever aroused him as much as that thought alone. Except perhaps the vine forcing itself into your mouth. 

In a couple of more thrusts, he felt you tighten around his cock as another orgasm approached. Mingi kept the same pace throughout, listening to your gargled moans. He knelt there behind you to watch you unravel in front of him. He took in the constricting muscles spasming in every wave; he saw it bring out this animalistic need that had you pushing into him. Mingi loved it.

When he felt the beginnings of your orgasm start, his own followed. Pent up frustration came out in each stroke, hungry and numb to anything around him. Your pussy pulsed in time with him, exactly as he always imagined, as you both came together. It was everything he’d wanted and more. Mingi didn’t let up for even a second. He couldn’t stop. Even as waves of pleasure came over him, he simply did not feel satisfied. When he withdrew from you, his cum stayed just at the brim of your entrance. He bent to lick it, but something got there before him. 

A flower, dark orange like Dennis’s petals, spring from the earth to your oozing sex. You whined as it hummed against your pussy. The same type of flowers grew around him, pulling his cock further down to suck up whatever remained on his skin. Their pistils and stamens gathered up the translucent fluids leaking from him; their tickling teased another hard on. 

“Get on top, baby,” he said, voice slightly hoarse from his heaving breaths. “Come here. On top of me, now.” 

He pulled you onto him this time. Vines kept your hands behind your back, and wrapped around your torso. Dennis clearly had no problem helping you properly fuck him. Mingi did not complain. He slapped your bouncing tits, giving your nipples hard pinches every so often; he pushed up into you whenever Dennis held you in place. He knew the plant went back into your ass by your breathy moans. The sentient plant did anything in its power to make its victims cum endlessly. He swore something in the air kept his victims going until they simply could not. 

But something about you did the same thing.

****

You don't know how long it went, but the sky nearly darkened by the time it ended. The muggy atmosphere, the humid air and the nutrient soils blinded you to reason and reality. As your body constantly rolled and moved around in the dirt, you slowly became one with the beings around you. Mingi's presence only heightened the experience. The soft soil and residues left on you entered your pores. You felt yourself ascending into a higher form, a higher being. As Dennis absorbed you and Mingi one final time, you did not feel like YN YLN anymore. Your body became electric. A strange feeling ran through your bones, spreading all over until it became a part of you. After the final orgasm, your body flopped onto the dirt patch Dennis initially created for you. The smell of the trees above you became your constant aroma. The flowers that had participated or spectated became more dear to you than anything else. Is this how your mother felt in her garden? 

“That was intense,” Mingi laughed, laying in the dirt with you. He lifted his head to see Dennis quiet and still, “He seems satisfied.”

You could hardly speak. You gazed up at the colorful glass above you. The growth covered most of it, but you caught the gist of the scene. A group of young maidens appeared to be occupying different spots of a garden similar to the one outside. Peacefulness came out through the art and onto you. It sounded sappy, but you finally felt at home. Of all the places you've ever been, in your before and afterlife, this greenhouse was home. Here, you feared nothing and nobody. Here, you are accepted and loved. Truly loved. You wore no collars in the greenhouse.

“Are you okay?” Mingi asked, though you hardly heard him. “I'm sorry I was a bit rough towards the end. I couldn't help myself. I promise next time I'll be gentler.”

Your fingers slipped into the dirt underneath you. Parts of it turned warm after you were on top of it for so long, yet others remained cool. You subconsciously made spirals in the ground, soaking in the euphoria of this new stage. A butterfly in the painting caught your eye. A beautiful monarch with orange and black wings fluttered from one panel to another. A butterfly. That is how you felt. Your human form was the cocoon you shed as Dennis took you. He guided you out of that existence and into another level. Turning your head, you saw white and blue flowers grow around your fingertips. 

“It's beautiful here,” you said softly, watching one flower coil around your finger. It became a piece of you as you brought it out of the dirt. “Don't you think?”

“Yeah, it is. Look, we definitely need to head out now. Hongjoong is probably furious with us right now. We've been here way too long,” you heard the panic come as his senses cleared, “He'll kill us for this-”

“-You go,” you interrupted him. The blossom grew across your fingers. It embedded itself in your skin, turning brown as it became a hardened vine. You watched it wrap itself around your arm, and gradually stop around your shoulder. “I want to stay here.”

“YN, you might be something new or whatever, but Hongjoong likely went to work without you. If we clean you up, and get you there asap, then he might spare us both.”

“I don't care.”

“You don't care? Did Dennis rob you of your senses completely? The Masters do not handle disobedience lightly.”

“Let them try,” you said, more flowers blooming on your arm and shoulder. 

Yes, let them try to punish you now. Punishments up until now have been sexual, but you knew your “masters” could easily become violent. Let them. Your vines will strangle them and anyone else who tries. 

“YN,” he stood up from the ground, though with difficulty, “Please, come with me. If I show up without you-”

“-Tell them where I am and that I didn't come with you. That way, they'll at least know where I am.”

You truly didn't know what the masters might have in store for you. Cambions could be slaves, but that's usually by choice or necessity. You wouldn't want to be a slave anymore. You wanted to live as you'd done so in life: freely and carelessly. 

“Do not heed his warnings, Mistress,” Dennis said in your head. “I will be your new protector.”

A smile came across your face. “I don't like the name ‘Dennis’. It sounds so childish and lame. A creature of your magnificence should have a powerful name that strikes fear into people.”

“What shall I be called then?”

You thought about it deeply. Mingi spoke up again, “YN, I'm not joking.”

“Caesar,” you said, holding your hand up to admire your work. “No, that's a salad dressing.”

“YN!”

“Alastair? Octavius?”

“I quite like Octavius.”

“Then it's settled. You're now Octavius.”

“You can't give Master Seonghwa's plant a new name.”

“I just did.”

“YN, you have to come with me right now.”

“You must go, Mistress. The young masters will not take your absence well. They may see it as disobedience.”

“They would,” you scoffed. “Anytime I do anything that doesn't directly involve them or their dumb schedules, they get upset. They're like children. Why do I have to pretend to be a housewife? I don't cook or clean or do anything meaningful. I'm not so stupid that I can't learn things at my own pace and in my own way. Why do I have to be restricted to their empty lives?”

"Because they believed you to be a lesser being than themselves. You have now nor have ever been less than anything but a goddess."

"Hm, I like the sound of that."

“You better hope they never hear you say that,” warned Mingi. “I don't have time for your shit. Let's go.”

“Hey!”

Mingi lifted you off the ground with ease. You struggled out of his grasp, but being thrown over his shoulder made that harder. You looked at the vines covering the ceiling. The urge to have them trap Mingi came strongly, but nothing happened. The plants stayed stationary and silent. Mingi carried you out of the greenhouse, where the nightly air blew through your matted hair. Outside the greenhouse, you felt empty once more. Mingi might as well have ripped you out of your home. He carried you back to that suffocating house and your masters. The lace collar you wore became more apparent than ever. 

Inside the house, Mingi took you all the way to the sitting room. Your body tensed at the presence of others in the room. 

“Darling! There you are!” 

Mingi placed you before them. All three brothers must have been alerted about your disappearance and came home early. You couldn't help resenting them. For the first time in a while, you hated your slave status. While being treated more like a princess than a slave was preferable, being confined to the keep made you start hating them. After experiencing the freedom and comfort of the greenhouse, you didn't want to be in the house. You wanted freedom. 

The sight of you stunned all three into silence. Smeared and caked with mud and leaves, you never felt more at home in your own skin. They eyed the branch wrapped around your right arm, the blossoms softly hissing and rattling in this new environment. Clearly, whatever ideas they'd created of you proved to be true. Your appearance concerned them, and it was refreshing. 

“It seems I was correct after all,” Seonghwa said, staring at the blue and white blossoms on your arm. “YN inherited her mother's ability.”

“Wow,” San stood up first, coming over to you cautiously. You saw him considering the best way to approach you. “You look…different, Darling.”

“Is that bad?”

“Not at all,” he assured you. “Maybe a little cleaning up, but other than that, I…” his eyes turned from shocked to fondness, “Still think you're the most beautiful being in existence.”

You smiled at him. 

“How do you feel, Kitten?” Seonghwa asked, getting up from his couch. He closely examined your face and hair, seeing all the mud and tiny twigs stuck to it. “Any pain or bruising anywhere?”

“No,” you shook your head. 

“And what did Dennis do exactly when you saw him? How did you end up there?”

“He called me.”

“He called you?”

You told them about the greenhouse. All of them listened intently to your story, not distracted by the dirtier details of it this time. Seonghwa already anticipated your response, but San and Hongjoong sat in silence. He continued examining you while you talked, closely observing the flowers on your shoulder and feeling your skin. By the time you got to Mingi, he turned to the bodyguard. You expected him to snap, and demand to know where Mingi went. 

“It wasn't Mingi’s fau-”

“-What did you find when you got there?” he asked him, cool and collected. 

“Dennis-”

“-Octavius-”

“-The plant was feeding off her,” Mingi continued. 

“And how did you end up involved?”

“I….Um, well…I suppose in the heat of the moment and her teasing me, I let myself get swept up in the moment. I couldn't control myself. She's so,” he took a deep breath, “Intoxicating.”

“Intoxicating?” Seonghwa glanced over at him once, then said, “Did you kiss her at any point?”

“I don't think so.”

“Taste her blood?”

“No, sir. I'm not really into that.”

“Good, then you're less likely to die.” 

“We can't kiss her anymore?” said San. 

“I'm not sure,” he said. “I don't know how potent it is. Yeosang and I tasted her blood last night and had mild discomfort but nothing dangerous. Kissing her hasn't appeared to affect us physically…” 

He then pulled you to him for a kiss. Deep and slow, Seonghwa cupped your jaw as he worked your mouth open. His hot tongue slithered past your lips, running over teeth and tongue to savor you. A slow inhale went through his nostrils, as if taking in the scent of you. This brought on a hunger that came out in soft grunts. You giggled at his reaction, amused by how easy he made it. 

“Intoxicating for sure,” he said between kisses, forcing himself to pull away but unable to. “Your kisses can be deadly in their own way.” 

“Let me try.”

San pushed him aside and brought you into his arms. He pecked your lips a few times, tasting you tentatively before his eyes darkened. He moaned the moment your tongues touched. Hands wandering down your body, San did not seem to care about the state of you. He grabbed the back of your thighs and you jumped into his embrace. Legs locked behind him, he'd started moving you to the mantle behind you.

“Deadly for sure,” San chuckled between kisses, pressing you to the column. “We might have to hang a warning from your neck,” he joked, nuzzling your nose, “‘Caution: Kiss At Your Own Risk’.”

“In that case,” you replied, hands going through his hair, “You are all very big risk takers.”

“For you? Absolutely.” 

Right as you started kissing Hongjoong appeared. 

“You had your turn,” He remarked, taking you from San. “It's my day, after all.”

His kiss, heated with passion, became equally enthralled. Taking your hands, Hongjoong let the natural aphrodisiac overcome his senses.  

“Now I know why you're so irresistible,” he moaned, bringing you to his couch to straddle him. “Your kisses are better than drugs,” he chuckled drunkenly, kissing and grinding into you. “I know I’d do anything you wanted for more of these kisses.”

“Anything?’ you smirked. 

“Anything,” he replied. “No safeword needed either.”

“I wouldn’t be so cruel, Hongjoong,” you said, happy to use his real name. Pushing cherry locks from his face, you kissed him again. “But, it’d be a nice change of pace to have you crying from overstimulation.”

“I think I like cambion YN,” he sneered, leaning in to kiss you. 

“Not now, Hongjoong,” said Seonghwa, pulling you from his brother's lap. 

The eldest demon took deep breaths to fight off the toxins inside him. San and Hongjoong moved to you, but kept their distance. The three hovered around you like carrion crows, eager to feast on your flesh. The intense attention reminded you of happier days. You touched Seonghwa’s chest, fingers tracing the buttons of his clean shirt. The light specks of dirt stood out against the white material and you knew it’d irritate him. Yet, at that moment, he hardly noticed it. 

“What do we do now?” you asked him. “You registered me with those people, right?”

“I did,” Seonghwa answered, nodding. “Jackson told me he’ll slip in your name and erase you from the human records. It’ll be like you never went to the circles.” He eyed the collar around your neck. He hooked it with his forefinger, and you saw the sadness in his eyes, “You’re not a slave anymore.”

The words carried weight inside you. “I’m not?”

“No,” he said, letting go of your collar. “Since you’re Lilith’s granddaughter, you get the title of ‘Lady’.”

“Lady, huh?” you grinned, “Sounds cool.” 

“Yes. You’re a Lady of Eden now.”

“Eden? Like, Adam and Eve’s Eden?”

“Yes, that eden.”

“Do I have to go there?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Hongjoong said, “But it’d be good of you to present yourself to them. You know, make it known that you’re here.”

The idea of going to another unknown place in Hell made you uneasy. San noticed your discomfort and said, “Lilith is always happy to greet one of her blood. She won’t turn you away if, you know, you decided to live there with them.”

“Would that bother you?”

“A bit, but I would understand,” Seonghwa said, but you didn’t believe him. Dejected, Seonghwa kept looking at the lace collar on your neck. “I don’t want to lose you.” He touched one of the white flowers, not bothered when it hissed at his touch. “I like having you around. It feels nice having someone who shares my interests, and whom I can spend time with comfortably. Yes, the sex is always nice, but I speak for myself and my brothers when I say we enjoy having you here. You being a cambion doesn't bother me. It worries me because, yes, we can receive serious punishment for that, but you leaving me upsets me more.” 

“I like having someone who enjoys the same things as me,” Hongjoong said. “You aren’t afraid. You like experiencing new things with me. I don’t have many people to do things like that with me.”

“It feels nice having someone to come home to,” San added. He turned you around, and caressed your cheek. “If the schedules bothered you, you could have told me. They were Seonghwa’s idea in the first place. He said having you hanging about all day without stimulation might dull your brain. I wanted to keep you happy. You…You were at least a little bit happy?”

Looking at his angular, handsome face, you thought about it. “It’s nice living here,” you said. “It’s the closest I’ve gotten to my old life since I arrived in Hell. It has been kind of constricting and suffocating here and the schedules are complete bullshit, but I went through worse.” 

His shoulders slumped at this answer. “Then clearly, I haven’t been doing my job right.” He kissed you softly, “We can change anything you want. Anything at all.”

“It isn’t like we chained you up in a basement and mistreated you,” Hongjoong scoffed, clearly becoming irritated with the tedious conversation. “We don’t have to decide everything tonight,” he clicked his fingers and Yunho came in a puff of smoke, “A drink, Yunho.” Yunho started pouring drinks from the bar cart in the corner, and Hongjoong returned to his couch. Flopping down on it, he sighed deeply. Even with his carefree response, you saw the hurt in his eyes. “You’re free now. You can do what you want. Whether that be here with us or be somewhere else, then fine.” It was not fine. Not to Hongjoong.

“I never said I wanted to leave,” you assured him, not liking the pain he tried hiding. “I…This has all happened super fast, and I’m not sure what I want right now.”

“And that’s fine,” San assured you. “You don’t need to figure it all out right now. You can go up to your room or the greenhouse or wherever. Dennis-Sorry, Octavius-likely put you through the wringer, so you must be so exhausted and hungry.” 

“Aftercare is important no matter whether with your bodyguard or with a tentacle plant,” said Hongjoong. “You can clean up, and we’ll have dinner.”

“I’m fine like this,” you said, looking at the branch clinging to your arm. “It feels strangely natural to me. I think I’ll stay like this for a little bit longer.”

“Whatever you say, love,” he said, taking the drink Yunho passed to him. He took a drink, then said, “You’re still having dinner with me. I had to go an entire day without you again. I’m suffering immensely.”

“I’m sure you were devastated,” you cooed, pinching his cheek. “I can watch you torture people another time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You kissed his cheek, then stood up from the couch. You knew you should bathe, but that alone felt so exhausting. Out of the room, you slumped your shoulders and shuffled your feet. The exertion with Octavius, formerly Dennis, and Mingi finally started hitting you up the stairs. Mingi chuckled. 

“Not as tough as you pretend, huh?”

“I am half-human,” you emphasized. You turned around, “Carry me?”

Mingi laughed, and scooped you off the floor. You’d nearly drifted to sleep cradled in his arms. Your bodyguard tended to have a comforting effect on you. His constant hovering from the shadows gave you a peace of mind. When you felt the softness of your mattress, you lifted the branch to one of the canopy beams. Like water, the hard vine slid off your arm to the natural wood. Through sleepy eyes, you watched it attach itself to the pole. It rooted into cracks in the smooth wood, starting in the middle before it extended itself all over the frames of your bed. A tiny greenhouse, you thought. 

“Wow,” Mingi rested on the bed beside you, “That’s amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“Just imagine what else you could do.”

“I hope to find out.” A thought came to you as you came closer to sleep, “Do you think my mother’s in Eden?”

“Maybe. If she died, yes, she should be there.”

“Hm…good to know…”

You yawned, slowly falling asleep at last. She came to mind again. She loved planting peonies. She said they symbolized love, honor, and beauty. She always added them to bouquets meant for best wishes and joy. You recalled the small potted peonies she put in your bedroom. Despite what friends thought, you kept them growing and healthy. As you drifted, you saw the pink, multi-layered peonies starting to blossom in the nooks and crannies of your four-poster bed. You missed her so damn bad. 

You wanted to see her again. 

***

A/N: Ooooh things are changing in the Black Keep. Don't we love a little development? I hope you guys liked this chapter! Don't forget to reblog and like <3

[annwrites]

a call to arms. part three.

— pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: jace takes you on your first flying lesson.

— word count: 5,645

— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea @daisyhxsh

He'd already woken up in a sour mood at the prospect of having to waste his day at your side, yet again, while he teaches you how to ride something you've no business having in the first place.

He'd swallowed it down, however, with specific plans in mind for this afternoon.

He would show you first how it's done, soaring through the skies with ease atop Vermax. His dragon would breathe great plumes of fire, which he'd then swoop directly through without an ounce of fear.

Once he landed, you would look at him with awe and reverence, begging him to take you up next.

He'd intended for today to be less of a headache. The two of you would not spend it arguing.

It would, instead, be similar in nature to how you'd ended the night last: calmly, Jacaerys kindly teaching you Valyrian terms he assumes you may have interest in knowing, and with a gentle touch. Or mayhaps a few...

Instead, when he'd sent for you, you'd not been in your chambers.

You'd, apparently, gone out to walk along the beach with your guard, as if this is all some sort of holiday away from home.

His ire had been promptly stoked, and had turned to seething rage as he watched from the castle's walkway as the two of you conversed and touched one another.

You, placing a hand upon the man's chest, and he upon your arm, your lower back, your waist. You merely smiled like an empty-headed idiot all the while.

As if you are unfamiliar with the ways of wanton men.

He should have the knight's hands cut off for such an offense. For touching that which he is not meant to have.

Not that you are spoken for—Jace has had few words with his own betrothed the last few days, always claiming to be otherwise occupied—but your priorities lie elsewhere now. Not in taking long walks on beaches with...rough-handed men.

He shall begin the day by teaching both of you a lesson then.

Jacaerys clenches his jaw, tightening his grip around the pommel of his sword as he comes ever-closer, gritting his teeth at the sound of you laughing contentedly at what he's sure is an ignorant joke the knight has just told you to earn your approval.

And then he does it again: touches your back, sliding his palm along it, keeping you somewhat close to his side.

Too close.

Jacaerys plants his booted feet firmly in damp sand, settles his arms behind his back, and clears his throat.

You jump in surprise.

"Ser Myles," he says, glancing to the knight's arm, before meeting his eyes once more. "Is that any way to treat the young woman you've been tasked with the protection of?"

His hand suddenly falls away, and your brows furrow.

"Forgive me, My Prince, I meant no harm by the gesture."

Jacaerys takes a step forward. "No, I think you meant something entirely different."

Your eyes flit between the two men, while your heart begins to pound in your chest at the boy's insinuation.

Myles remains silent, so Jacaerys shrugs dramatically. "What? Nothing to say for yourself, then? You are given the duty of keeping her safe, and she's here not even a week, and already you are being untoward. How should I see such an action? Hm?"

You step in front of Myles, putting yourself between the two of them. "He was merely keeping me company while I collected shells. He's done nothing wrong."

Jacaerys stares you down. "You will address me properly, and you will hold your tongue. You speak only when spoken to, is that understood?"

You ball your hands into fists before crossing your arms.

Jacaerys settles his gaze upon Myles then, loathing him all the more for his handsome smattering of dark facial hair, his tanned face, his broad form.

As if he'd not already felt insecure enough, day-by-day he wishes more and more to crawl out of his own skin. This one is no different, and he'd so prayed it would be.

Myles speaks. "I assure you, My Prince, no disrespect was intended toward Y/N. We were only—"

Jace raises his brows incredulously.

"You seem on quite comfortable terms with my—" He pauses, but only for the briefest of moments. "One of my mother's dragonseeds."

"How else is he meant to address me?" You ask, interrupting once again.

Jacaerys steps closer to you, forcing you to lean your head back to meet his eyes. "You will be silent."

He looks to Ser Myles, jerking his head toward Dragonstone. "You are dismissed."

The man bows his head, glancing to you for but a moment while you give him a sympathetic look in return, before he steps away.

Your eyes are full of fire when they meet Jacaerys' once more. "That was entirely uncalled for."

He grabs you roughly by the arm, glaring at you.

"My Prince," he hisses.

You yank your arm from his grip, sneering at him—and, as you've finally had it with his insufferable ways; his condescending, haughty attitude, you tell him what you really think.

"Royal arsehole!" You shout, stomping away.

His jaw drops, his mind going blank at your display of sheer disrespect.

"W—What did you just call me?!" He yells shrilly.

He races to catch up to you, repeating himself.

"What did you just call me?!" He shouts, his voice echoing across the water.

You pay him no mind as you throw a lock of hair over your shoulder, holding your head high as you continue swiftly walking away in the other direction.

His patience now at its end, he grabs you by the wrist, and begins pulling you back toward the castle. "You insolent little harlot! You'll pay for that! I could have your tongue for such—"

You try to yank yourself away again, but he holds firm, turning back to you with flared nostrils and a set jaw.

"You want to know what I think?!"

"No! I don't think I particularly do! But what I know—" he says, stalking toward you while you shuffle your feet to get away, desperate for him to release you. "Is that this behavior ceases—today!"

He shoves you into a narrow alcove, putting the two of you out-of-sight.

He pushes you into the side of the cavern, and you dare to push him back—shoving against his chest, once, twice—before finally raising a hand to him, which he quickly catches in his strong grip.

He pins you against a damp stone wall, his face mere inches from your own as his warm breath fans over you—combating the cold of the sea while he holds your hands above your head.

"If you ever raise a hand to me again," he says lowly—quietly—his body now flush against your own. "I will take it. What you just did is treason."

He positions his lips next to your ear. "Go on, then. Try me. See how far I let you get after such a stunt. You think me weak? Easy to strong-arm?"

He squeezes your wrists painfully.

"I doubt it. You've no idea who you're testing. I am your future king," he spits. "And you will obey me, you little bitch."

He pulls back, his brown eyes boring into your own. "You think your comely looks make you special? Think they're all you need, so as to easily fool and take advantage of men? To get your way?"

He leans in closer. "I am not so easily corrupted."

Your lip twitches and he curls his own in response.

"What do you think are laughing at?" He barks.

You glance down, to where his erection is firmly pressed against your stomach, then back into his eyes. "I was going to tell you that I think you jealous."

You glower at him. "And merely a green boy who has no idea what in Seven Hells he's doing."

He looks down then as well, and his face goes starch-white.

He stutters, desperately grasping for words, for explanation, for any feeling that isn't utter mortification, before he looks at you again.

You raise a brow, a bored expression now having overtaken your features as you wait for him to decide what he wants to do with you.

You're sure you already know.

Finally, he growls. slamming your arms against stone one last time before releasing you, adjusting himself, then stalking away, leaving you alone...and trembling.

It's some time before you return to the castle.

You'd wished to cool down first, so you'd waded through the sea for awhile—only up to your ankles in the cool saltwater—as you gathered further shells for your sister. But no pearls, quite expectantly.

You're unsure that you regret what occurred with the prince this morn.

Regret for his sake? Never. For your own? Were you not a dragonrider...you would already be dead by now.

You need be far more careful in the future. Your pride is not worth more than your life. Not when you have others depending upon you to make it home to them. To look after them once you have.

Wish that you could remain out here all evening, but, before long, you catch a chill and begin heading inside so as to get warm again in front of the fire.

What had the royal pain in your arse even wanted in the first place, anyway? Had he really come all the way outside and across the beach just to chastise another man for touching you?

You throw yourself back on your bed, not much caring.

He is a child playing at being a man. Nothing more.

Even if those same...manly parts had stirred something inside of you.

As if he is your usual type.

No. He is insufferable.

Jacaerys rubs feverishly at his throbbing erection, his eyes closed—free hand firmly gripping the wall as he works desperately toward his release.

He imagines you bent over his lap as he wails against your backside until it is lovely shades of blood-red and purple, while you beg either for more, or for his mercy.

My Prince, Gods, My Prince...

His lip twitches, turning into a pleased grin as you beg for him.

I will obey, I swear it by the Seven, you whine.

None else shall touch me, you whisper.

Only you, you moan, making him a solemn vow.

He struggles to picture what the rest of you might look like. Your breasts are not much of a quandary for him—he has seen wet-nurses tending to his younger brothers—but rather between your legs.

He is still yet...unaware.

And you had read him like a book on that, hadn't you? More than once. It is humiliating: for you, a girl, to know more than he. About anything.

He imagines you pinned to that wall again, your dress—one of soft grey and pearlescent white he'd chosen for you—in tatters at your feet as you stroke and please him...with your mouth.

That is certainly one way to earn your silence, he muses.

And he much enjoys it.

"Gods, Y/N," he whispers heatedly, wanting you in here with him instead.

He—fuck—he needs you. Needs you on your back, on your knees, on your belly, in every which way. Wants...wants you to teach him. To pleasure him. To allow him to pleasure you. To—to...

"Oh, Gods, yeeees," he drawls, his hot, thick cum spurting out of the tip of his weeping, purple cock as he fills with relief.

His strokes eventually slow, before ceasing altogether, a long tendril of cum hanging from his erection, which he rubs his thumb over.

His body feels hot all over, his cheeks are flushed, and his heart is hammering away in his chest, but Gods, could he use yet another round.

Apparently three had not been nearly enough...

But he knows the day is still young, and you still need him to teach you how to ride Silverwing.

That is what he needs, he thinks, as he cleans himself up. To ride the skies. It will get him out of his head. Will cool him down. Will distract him.

He knows what he truly wants, however...

Something which he will never admit.

Even if the evidence lies plainly before him on an old rag...

There is a knock at your door, interrupting you from your current task of washing off your sister's shells.

You pad toward the door, then blank when you open it, to find Prince Jacaerys standing on the other side.

He tosses you a bundle of clothes, which you barely manage to catch within your arms.

"Put these on," he commands, shoving past you, shutting the door firmly behind himself.

You turn, watching as he pours himself a glass of water, which he drinks down greedily before pouring another, seating himself at your dining table.

"W—what?"

He looks at you with a bored expression. "Are you deaf?"

You look at the clothes—which are all leather and thick velvet, with light fur—then back to him. "What're these for?"

He shrugs a shoulder lightly. "You'll see."

He nods toward your changing screen. "Now, put them on. I won't ask again. We don't have all day."

You briefly consider telling him that, without his little outburst, perhaps whatever new lessons you're about to be given could've been started sooner, but refrain.

You'll need bite your tongue more often from now own, lest you lose it altogether. And then how will you command Silverwing in battle?

In truth, you'd rather not think on the issue too long.

Every day that passes where you are not forced back into the dragonpit to finally learn how to ride her is a great relief. Even if it leaves you on the edge of your seat, waiting with dread for when you're finally summoned to do so.

You shift on your feet, clutching the clothing to your chest. "I need privacy."

He rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his water. "There is a screen, and I hardly intend to look. Now, do as your prince commands."

Royal prick, you think, walking behind the sheer screen, setting your new garments down.

You know looking is precisely what he means to do. Elsewise, he would not still be in here.

Boys.

Jacaerys, to his credit, tries to look out the window instead, but staring at a pane of glass is not why he'd come. It's like he can't fucking help himself. And he feels shameful for it. Nevertheless, he does it anyway.

He watches.

Watches as a candle casts your form in a soft shadow against the screen.

Watches as you remove your gown, and then your smallclothes, leaving you bare—Jace only having his imagination to picture what is on the other side.

There is the soft swell of your breasts, a tuft of hair above your pelvis, your round backside that he'd pictured in his mind's eye but a few minutes earlier as he spanked it raw. Your supple thighs, the feminine curve of your waist.

He glances nervously to the doorway.

If he were to be caught with you like this... He does not want to imagine the fallout that would ensue between not just he and Baela, but between his mother and her father.

And he knows he's enough of a coward that he would place the blame entirely at your feet.

He wants to convince himself he would do otherwise, but doubt clouds such convictions.

He looks back, watching as you pull on your new riding pants, and he adjusts himself over his own, his cock filling with blood...again.

He shakes his head, standing, stepping across the room to stare outside.

He needs to throw himself into the sea for awhile. A long while.

Finally, you clear your throat, interrupting the silence.

Jacaerys turns back to you, pleased that it all seems to fit. It'd been a measure his mother had ordered from their servants: to have you fit for new garments once you'd claimed Silverwing.

He comes toward you. "How does it feel? Are the boots too snug?"

You walk in a few small circles and his lip twitches at the sight, before you come to a stop, looking at him.

You shake your head. "I think they're fine."

He gently tugs against the hem of your tunic before circling you, looking you over—every inch.

When he's standing before you once more, he gives you a small nod. "Follow me."

Your eyes widen in terror as Jacaerys leads you toward the dragonpit.

"W—where're we—what're we—going—doing?"

Jacaerys keeps on, growing nearer and nearer to that familiar set of large double-doors. "Today, you will learn how to fly your new mount. You needn't worry, I will be on Vermax and—"

You stop in your tracks, fighting back tears. "I—I don't want to."

He barely looks at you as he grabs you by the forearm, dragging you forward, closer to those doors.

Doors you thought you'd never walk out of. Doors that had trapped you and dozens of others inside a dark room while two blood-thirsty beasts feasted upon them.

You can still hear the screams.

Can smell the fire—the thick, black plumes of smoke which had threatened to choke the life from you.

You see their flesh falling from their bones.

Can hear one man crying for his mother.

Another girl crying for her baby.

When those same doors close behind you, you panic.

You wrench your arm away from him and run in the opposite direction. You're not thinking. Or you are, but only of survival.

He yells after you, but you hardly hear it. All you do is the screams. The roars of the dragons. Death rattles.

You hide yourself away in a dark corner, clamping your hands over your ears, rocking back and forth, willing it to be over.

It will all be over soon...

You squeeze your eyes shut, making yourself as small as possible.

You want your father.

Your mother.

Your little girl. You want to hold her one last time. Please, Gods, please.

"Look at me!"

It is only once he has pulled your hands away from your ears that you realize you're screaming.

Jacaerys takes your tear-stricken face between his palms, his eyes searching your own. "You're safe! She won't hurt you, you have my word!"

"Please!" You beg him as you choke on your tears. "P—Please, My Prince, I beg of you! Gods, I'm so sorry! Y—You're right: I'll be obedient! A good little girl—your whore—whatever you wish! I'll obey you, I swear it! Please, please, I have to leave!"

His heart breaks at the sight of your crumpled face—your violently shaking body—the words you offer him. You'd do anything he says in this moment, you're that frightened of what his mother had subjected you to.

And to think that he'd sniggered at the idea of feeding you to Vermax...

How could he have?

"My little girl! I want my little girl!" You cry, trying to push past him, your eyes set on those large doors, until he pulls you against his chest—the two of you collapsing in a tangle of limbs as he holds onto you with all his might.

He shooshes you, smooths your hair with his hand, rocks you gently.

"You're safe, you're safe," he repeats so many times that he quickly loses count of just how many.

"She is your dragon now," he tells you with wide eyes, "She will obey you. She means you no harm. She chose you. Wants you to be her rider, the sole body who commands her. You can trust her, I swear this to you."

You shake your head, not wishing to listen.

"I am here!" He shouts. "I won't allow any harm to befall you, you have my word, Y/N! As long as you are with me, you are safe!"

You break into a fit of sobs, clutching at his chest.

"So sorry, so sorry, so—"

He cradles the back of your head, tears stinging his own eyes.

His mother had stood there and watched. Had watched like it was some marvelous spectacle, instead of dozens of people fighting for their lives after coming to offer her their aid.

And he had been grateful for their deaths. All those people. They'd...they'd had families, too. They'd been unaware of what they were walking into.

He is a monster, he realizes, feeling ill.

After some time, you begin to quiet, your sobs turning into quiet hiccups, your body drained.

"I don't..." You trail off, unsure what you even want to say.

He tightens his arms around you.

"You...you did not say... That you have children."

He is not pleased by it, but also not entirely surprised. So, you've a bastard child with a man who chose to leave you both behind. He is not sure if that says more about you, or he.

Your brows furrow.

"What?" You ask quietly.

"You kept begging...for your little girl."

You slump against him.

"My little sister," you explain.

"My father died when I was young. And after...my mother became a ghost of herself. It became my responsibly to look after us all. No matter that I was still a child myself. There was this night..."

You grow quiet for a moment before continuing.

"I was reading to my sister in bed. She...she called me 'mama'. I didn't...know what to do with that. So, I let it go. Until she did it again. My mother didn't even care. I tried, gently, to explain to her not to refer to me by that term, but she didn't seem to grasp the things I was telling her. Why she shouldn't."

Jace rests his cheek against the crown of your head.

"Somewhere along the way, I began to think of her as my daughter. Maybe she is now. I don't know. I just... I miss her more than I can bear. I feel like a piece of my chest is missing now. I want to be back with her."

Jace swallows down the lump in his throat. "My younger brother, Luke... Aemond killed him. I did not...act as a father to him, necessarily, but I looked after him. Tried to teach him. I miss him every day."

You gingerly take one of his hands in your own.

"I heard about that... Storm's End?"

He nods.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

He presses a kiss to your hair. "Me as well."

A beat of silence.

"I know you do not wish to, but you have to learn."

You stir in his arms, so he holds you close yet still.

"I will ride with you. On Silverwing. I promise you—I swear to you—that she will bring you no harm. Dragons bond with their riders. You'll feel it before long. It's...difficult to explain. But if the day came when she needed give her life for yours," he says, pulling away, cupping your cheek. "She will. That is what you mean to her now."

Your chin wobbles. "I don't want her."

"She wants you. Has chosen you."

"How...how do we let someone else claim her instead?"

He shakes his head. "That isn't how it works. A dragon may only take a new rider once its previous one has passed. That is the only way the bond is broken."

Your heart sinks. "Oh."

A tear slips from your eye, sliding down your cheek. "I don't want to die."

He frowns.

"I know. None do. But..." What is he supposed to tell you? A dragon was never what you'd come here for. He has no words of comfort for you, and it makes him feel all the worse for it.

"I wonder if Maisily would like her."

You smile slightly.

"I'd like to think she'd be braver than I."

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "After what you endured...you're not a coward. I'm...sorry. That you must live with it now. Truly."

Your eyes meet his again. "Do we truly have to?"

He nods slowly. "I'm afraid so. But, as I said, I will be with you the entire time."

You clutch at the material of his soft tunic. "Were you scared...the first time?"

He tips your chin up with his index finger, grinning. "Terrified."

That makes you feel somewhat better.

Finally, he stands, taking your hand within his own, lacing your fingers together. "Come, I think it is time for a proper introduction."

You practically cling to Jace's side as the two of you stand at the edge of the platform which overlooks the dragonpit.

Your body shakes violently, while tears well in your eyes. You fear you may vomit all over him.

"Call her," he tells you gently.

You stare up at him, your nose red and eyes bloodshot, and shake your head.

He slides his hand down your arm, lacing his fingers between your own for comfort. He squeezes your hand securely.

"Call to her. I'm right here. No harm will come to you, I promise."

Reluctantly, you tear your gaze away from him, looking out at that black, bottomless pit, afraid of what is to be found in the looming darkness.

You hide yourself half-behind his arm.

"Silverwing," you call quietly.

He frowns. "Tell her 'Māzīs, Silverwing'."

You grip his sleeve tightly.

"It means come," he explains.

"M—" You shut your mouth, humming with fear.

"Try again," he encourages.

In truth, he doesn't entirely mind you taking so long to accomplish this one simple task. The more time it takes you, the longer you'll cling to him for safety.

He much likes that you do in the first place.

That you see him as a protector in this way.

"Māzīs, Silverwing," you call, a few octaves louder, to no response.

"With conviction," he explains.

You squeeze his hand so tightly it hurts, but he says nothing of it.

"Māzīs, Silverwing!" You shout.

And then there is a deep rumbling, and something shifting in the dark.

You squeak, stepping behind Jace entirely, fisting the material of his tunic in your hands as you hold yourself against him.

You shut your eyes, burying your face in the middle of his back.

His lip twitches, eventually turning into a full-blown contented smirk at the feel of you so very close to him.

"Tell her to sit."

"You do it," you mumble.

He rolls his eyes. "She is your mount, not mine. She needs answer to you alone. Elsewise, she will grow confused. It would not do well to have her responding to other riders while in battle."

"Then we won't go to battle. We'll stay here. Where it's safe."

He nearly snorts.

"Demās," he whispers. "Sit."

You peak out from behind him, then blanch when you see your dragon already staring at you.

Her blue and silver scales shimmer against the light of the lit braziers which surround you. At least she's pretty to look at... If not also terrifying.

"She's waiting for you," he presses.

"Demās, Silverwing."

There is a resounding thump, and then a soft clicking coming from her.

"Good, now you may mount her."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

He turns, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "I will show you how it's done."

You watch nervously as Jacaerys climbs onto your dragon with ease, seating himself comfortably before looking down to you, beckoning you up with his hand.

You shift on your feet, glancing to the doorway, then back to him.

"I will be with you the entire time. Just come. Please."

You take a small step forward, and then another and another, shoving down the urge to run screaming in the other direction all the while as you plant your feet against her side, your hands gripping her slippery scales while you stare up at him.

Jacaerys gives you an encouraging smile. "Good, just like that. Now climb."

You frown, but obey nonetheless, knowing you've no other choice.

You struggle—losing your footing every few steps, but you hold firm, eventually taking Jacaery's outstretched hand, and he pulls you up, and you fall into his chest.

You flush. "Sorry."

He shakes his head, smoothing hair away from your face.

"No harm done. Now," he nods toward the saddle. "Sit, so I can adjust your restraints."

"What...what about you?"

He grins. "I've been at this for some time. I'll be perfectly well."

"You're not...you're not afraid of falling off?"

"Not at all."

You wait patiently—silently—as Jacaerys pulls tight a large leather strap across your waist.

"How does that feel?"

You tug against it, and are pleased to find it doesn't budge. "Good. It feels secure. I think..."

He nods, sliding closer until his chest is flush against your back. He wraps an arm around your waist while his other hand comes to rest atop your thigh.

"Tell her to stand."

You stare ahead dumbly, your mind blank. You don't want her to stand. Don't want her to fly. You want to go back to your room.

"Maybe...maybe tomorrow we could—"

"No, today."

You swallow thickly.

He pulls a lock of hair away from your shoulder, bringing his lips close to your ear. "I won't allow any harm to come to you. Neither will she. She is your protector now."

He pauses. "As am I. For...for today, that is."

Tears fills your eyes.

You want to get down.

You want your little girl.

"Can you hold my hand again?" You whisper.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, twining his fingers between yours once more.

"Now, stand."

You chew your lip. "That's the one you were mean to me over, right? You said..."

You trail off. You can't remember the word now. Only that he called you a simpleton when he told you to say it, and you'd not known what word to supply him with in return.

"Iōrātās."

You nod. "Silverwing, iōrātās!"

She begins to rise and your eyes go wide, your heart jumping into your throat.

"Oh—oh Gods. I don't—"

The two of you rock from side to side before leveling again.

"Tell her to go forward."

A beat of silence.

"Naejot, Silverwing!"

 She begins heading toward a doorway, which begins to slowly open.

Jacaerys had arranged for the dragonkeepers to at least do that much.

He was irritable enough when he went to them to make arrangements for this afternoon. If they'd refused his orders...

It is once Jacaerys can see clearly outside that he speaks again. "Tell her to fly."

"I—I can't do that. We need to get down now, I think."

He cups your cheek, leaning in close to your ear. "All is well, I promise. Trust me. Just this once."

You keep your mouth shut, refusing to give her the order.

"Sōvēs," he tells you.

You remain silent.

He sighs. "Do you think she enjoys being trapped in here all hours of the day? Do you know how long it's been since someone has ridden her? Let her show you the skies. Allow her that privilege."

You fill with guilt then.

You drag your fingertips lightly along her scales.

You've a dragon... What a ridiculous thing for someone like you to possess.

It will not last.

It does not matter if Jacaerys believes otherwise. She chose wrong. And you will prove it to him.

"Silverwing, sōvēs!" You shout with confidence.

And immediately fill with regret, your dragon instead proving you wrong.

She takes off, practically running toward the open doors, flapping her wings, and you shriek in terror, doubling over and hiding your face in your hands.

Jace holds you tightly, encouraging you to look, but you refuse, instead waiting for it to all be over.

You know you are airborne when everything becomes weightless and she steadies beneath you.

"Look, Y/N. Open your eyes!"

You shake your head. "No! We—You should tell her to land. I got her to fly like you said!"

He reaches forward, prying your hands away from your eyes—finding you to be stronger than you look, but you are, nevertheless, no match for him.

You keep your eyelids closed tight, refusing to give him what he wants.

"Open! That is an order from your prince!"

He says it with a grin, and with a playful tone, so as not to frighten you further, but you still whimper in fear.

He gives you another soft kiss upon your silver hair—loose strands of which lash against his face, tickling him.

"I want us to experience this together," he tells you lowly, his hand sliding along your stomach, fingers curling inward.

"You are a dragonrider now, you should see...what sorts of pleasure it may bring you."

Just then, you feel something long and hard pressing into your lower back and your eyes pop open in surprise. You turn back to him, only to find him smirking in contentment. "I see you've finally chosen to properly join me."

You give him a look of disbelief before turning back round.

And then you gasp in amazement—at the large, endless expanse of clear blue sky that surrounds you. It, and a handful of fluffy white clouds are all which remain in all the world from up here.

"I'm—"

He wraps his arms around your upper body, pulling you back against him.

"I'm flying!"

His eyes flutter closed, a smile settling upon his lips to hear you so pleased.

"I'm flying, Jace!"

He beams at you addressing him by a shortened, more familiar version of his name; that you did not so much as hesitate to do so.

"We're flying," he replies as you soar through the skies together.