#and difficult and humiliating recovering is

[just-rogi]

.

[written-in-flowers]

His Student: Demon!Yeosang x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubus!Yeosang x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairing: demonline x reader

Word Count: 11k

Genre: smut (lots), angst MINORS DNI

Summary: YN's animosity with Yeosang reaches a head after a cruel prank. Will the teacher be taught new things by his insolent student?

Tags: enemies to FWB, master/salve dynamic, enslavement, mentions of domestic abuse, sex fighting, sex wrestling, degradation, name calling, nipple play, breast play, breast slapping, spanking, humiliation, light cock and ball pain, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, oral sex, rough oral sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, slight blood play, tickling, tickling feet, self-lubrication, tit fucking, thigh fucking, exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, gangbang, cream pie (massive), belly bulging (slight), hate fucking, fight fucking,

@pirateeznet

Previously on Pretty Pet | > Next

***

Sunrises. Chittering birds. The warmth of a lover. The smell of a hot breakfast or dark coffee. There were many things you’d rather wake up to aside from the pallid, stern face of your handler, Yeosang. Blinking your eyes open, you let out a soft groan seeing him on the side of the bed. You wondered how long the weirdo had been watching you, since he said nothing to you. It unnerved you. You rolled on your side to turn your back on him. Could he not see you're recovering from San?

Two months of living with your new masters was exhausting, if nothing else. Being San’s housewife proved more difficult than expected. Lots of travels into the city, buying ingredients for dinners you don't make, having clothes he tore apart mended, and pretending to tidy up a house that is already clean was a lot. Hongjoong remained undecided about his “schedule”, so it changed regularly: you’d either be enduring sex training by him or one of the servants, sitting in a cage with kitten ears waiting for him, or whatever he felt like assigning for the day. Interchange that with lessons with Yeosang, who was not the most understanding or gentle of teachers. He was critical, bossy, and demanding. If you missed a note, he made you play the piece again. If your voice cracked on a high pitch, he rolled his eyes and told you to sing again. According to him, musical talents should come easily to someone, and you kept proving him wrong. 

“You’ve been in bed long enough,” you heard him say. “Time to get up. You’re going to miss your lessons.”

You’d never, ever, ever tell anyone how much you’d enjoyed taunting him that first day. Seeing the strict, austere demon crumble in your hand gave you a sense of triumph. It felt good getting back at him in the best way. 

“Boo-hoo,” you grumbled into your pillow. The toll the previous night took on your body showed in your sore muscles. Thankfully, the creams helped with the tender areas. “I’m sick.”

“You’re not sick.”

“Yes I am,” you gave several coughs, “See?”

“You can’t get sick in Hell, idiot,” he scolded. “You’re already dead. You only get sick if someone curses you with pestilence, which you’re tempting me with if you don’t get up right now.”

“Do it, Demon Boy,” you challenged. “Then you can tell Master Seonghwa why he can’t have sex with me tonight.”

Brown eyes rimmed with crimson glared at you. For a second, you saw him considering it before his loyalty to Seonghwa won over. 

“You were permitted to miss breakfast with Master Seonghwa, but you aren’t missing your lessons. The Masters are at work, Jongho is on his way to start your morning routine, and I have to prepare us for the day. Get up.”

“What if I don’t?” you shot at him. 

“I’ll have Mingi throw cold water on you and drag you out of that bed,” he threatened. “Then, you can walk around cold, naked and wet.”

“Bet you’d love that, huh?”

He didn’t answer you, but instead turned on his heel and left. Rolling onto your back again, you soaked yourself in San’s bed. The youngest brother worked you particularly hard the previous night. He’d gotten worked up from his day at the arena, so in usual fashion, he came home half naked and harder than a rock. It started in the living room, where he tore at your dress and panties before taking you in the hallway towards the bedroom. Heated passion drove the both of you last night. You simply couldn't get enough of one another. You knew you'd have a similar night with Seonghwa, if he wished.  

“Morning, sunshine!” Jongho poofed into existence as you slipped off the bed, holding the thin chemise he always put over you. “How’re you feeling? I heard Master San was pretty wild last night.”

“It was nothing unexpected,” you answered, sliding on the chemise. “That cream you made helped with the bruises.”

“Master San can get a bit rough when he’s in the heat of things,” he said, “So I knew you’d need it. I’ll bring you some tea while you’re bathing.”

“Thanks, Jongho.”

He let you walk into the bathroom alone while he disappeared to the kitchen. It took several minutes of convincing and reassuring your handlers that you can bathe yourself. You told them you weren’t a baby. Not that you hadn’t minded the extra-close attention, but the bathtub seemed the only place nobody disturbed you. Sliding into the water, you added a few drops of bath bubbles and watched them form in your hands. The calming scents wafted up from the surface, which you inhaled deeply. Bath time was always the best time. Wiping the cloth over your skin, you let yourself soak in the relaxing warmth. 

You’d grown to enjoy your life in the Black Keep. It was extremely more preferable than the House of Kisses. During San’s days, walking through the streets in your casual dresses and heels, you’d pass the brothel district to see the other slaves. You pitied their situation, even if Mingi insisted they deserved and chose this fate. He didn’t understand the reality of the circles. It’d been one of the realizations you made about the high-borns: they don’t visit the circles. Those places are for the damned to endure, not the demons. The farthest they’d gone, you’ve assumed, was to their different workplaces. You’d explained to Mingi that a life of servitude was more appealing than suffering a brutal punishment. Yes, they lived in poverty, subjected to vile sexual acts every night, and abused by their “owners”, but better than the circles. Much better. You in particular were especially lucky. 

“Fucking pet…” 

She’d been a skinny, unwashed thing. You’d walked back through the district from the merchants’ street when you came across her. Her body wrapped in a sheet of muslin fabric, the young woman stood outside a brothel peddling herself to passersby. You knew from experience that being put out was a form of punishment. They’d work, eat and sleep outside the brothel rather than in the comfort of the inside. She’d seen your fancy dress and lace collar, and glared at you. You couldn’t help glaring back. It’s not as if you asked to become their pet. It was fate. You don’t even know if they bought you legally. San only slit Rufus’s throat and they took you as theirs. 

“Are you planning on marinating in there like a chicken or are you going to get out? We’re on a schedule that you’re already late for.”

Where you’d expected Jongho, you received Yeosang instead. You huffed in annoyance, “Aren’t you supposed to be, like, preparing for the lesson? You know, tuning the piano or the cello or finding the right books to put my nose into?” 

“I already did,” he said stone-faced. He walked over to the shelf of toiletries and towels, grabbing one of them for you. “Sorry that I don’t dawdle. Unlike you, I understand schedules and adhere to them.”

“It’s not the end of the world if I don’t show up on time.” 

He came to the tub, extending the towel to embrace you. “Out. Now.”

You grumbled, standing from the comforting water into the cold air. He wrapped you in the towel, and began drying your body. “I can dry myself, you know.”

“I do,” he said, starting at your feet and working to your knees, then your hips. “But I have a job to do and I do it.”

As he dried you, you noticed he caressed certain spots. At first, you thought he was being careful with the areas San spanked in his heated moment. Yet, you couldn’t help seeing the heavy lidded eyes and longing stares. You rolled your eyes. He lingered over marks San left on parts of your body. Absent-mindedly, he traced the light bruising he found with delicate fingers regardless of location. His cold digits left goosebumps on your skin. 

“I thought we were on a tight schedule, Yeosang,” you interrupted his admiration. 

He coughed awkwardly, “Yes, we are.”

He hurriedly dried the rest of you, put you in your chemise again, then took you to your dressing room. Wooyoung stood there waiting with a Seonghwa-approved dress: a wrap-around pale pink dress with flowers painted onto the hems. Your hair done into a braid, he tied a matching ribbon to the end of it. In the mirror, you saw the angelic, innocent virgin Seonghwa wanted. You also spotted Yeosang looking at you in the mirror. The same lust-filled stare gazed over your body, no doubt undressing you piece-by-piece again. You ignored him, and walked out of the room first. 

“Morning, Mingi,” you said to your bodyguard who stood outside your doors. 

“Morning, YN,” he replied, nodding as you passed by him. “Have fun last night?”

“Loads,” you grinned. “Have fun listening to it?”

“You know I did.” You sensed him watching the ends of your dress swishing in each stride, and stifled a laugh. “You’re a demon’s weakness, you know that?”

“It’s becoming more obvious by the day.” 

Yeosang came into step with you, then walked ahead. You shook your head at him. Seeing his straight strides, his proper posture and head tilt, Yeosang showed his superiority even while walking. Even with his status as a “servant”, he thought himself above everyone around him. Mingi claimed they are cousins, sons of Satan, the Prince of Wrath. It explained Yeosang’s quickness of anger, even if subdued by his sophisticated manner. If he is so important, why was he content with servitude and not having his own lands?

“You’re a son of Satan, right?” you asked him from behind. 

“A grandson.”

“Then how come you don’t have your own lands like The Masters?”

“I’m not part of the direct bloodline,” he said stiffly. “I am a son-of-son. Only those with direct relation get the finer things.” 

“That still makes you his blood though. You’re his grandson.”

“And not directly from him. Direct bloodline implies it is someone right after him like Master Seonghwa, Asmodeus’s son from the 18th generation.”

“18th?”

“Those demons born between 1701 to 1800 obviously,” he said over his shoulder. “We won’t be covering the 18th generation for a while. We're still covering the 12th generation.”

“The medieval period, I know.”

“The High Middle Ages, YN.”

“Well, what generation are you, Mr. Know-It-All?”

“20th,” he said. “I was born in 1904. My mother was a demon of wrath and my father, Satan, took a liking to her. She was his mistress for many years. Same for Mingi’s mother. The Princes don’t take ‘wives’, if you couldn’t tell on your own.”

“What generations are Masters Hongjoong and San?”

“Master Seonghwa is from the 18th generation as well; he was born in 1754, while Master Hongjoong was born in 1755,” he said. “Master San is the youngest, being born in 1910.” 

“I guess I’d be a 20th generation, if I was a demon?”

“Yes.”

“Which would make you older than me?”

“Psh, I’m much, much older than you, but that doesn’t seem to matter to you. You’re generally disagreeable and insolent to anyone regardless of age.”

“No, Yeosang, I’m only disagreeable to you.”

He opened the doors to Seonghwa’s apartment without retort. You liked shutting him up even if briefly. Mingi stayed by the doors while you followed Yeosang into the music room. You’d missed the cello lesson according to the clock on the wall, so he took you over to the piano next. Sitting beside him on the bench, you watched him open the music book on the stand for you to read. 

“Let’s start with Chopin today,” he said, turning the page to one of the compositions. “He truly is one of the greats. Small children are able to play this, so let’s see just how much better a seven-year-old would be compared to your mediocrity.”

You wanted to kick him under the bench. It made you want to prove him wrong. You paid close attention to each note he played and repeated them back. He kept a distasteful expression every time you matched his notes. You remembered bits and pieces from those piano lessons your mother’s friend gave you. Mama hoped you’d become a famous musician one day; she said you had the talent if you practiced hard enough. Eight-year-old YN wanted to make her happy, and playing the piano and singing did that. That is, until He broke the small electric piano she’d saved up for your birthday. 

‘Nobody wants to listen to that shit!’ he’d shout, kicking it aside before sitting down. 

You never played again. 

“Well, I suppose you aren’t entirely useless after all,” Yeosang said when the lesson ended. You’d played the song perfectly, and you knew it bothered him. “Master Seonghwa will be pleased when he hears you after dinner. Try to remember it between now and then.” 

He stood up from the bench, and you stayed behind. You heard him gathering books in the next room, but you let your fingers trace the black keys. A melody came to you in particular. ‘Johnny Angel, Johnny Angel, Johnny Angel…You’re an angel to me.’ She always sang while she cleaned, even if under her breath. Her voice became your welcoming jingle. It was how you knew she was home. You'd learned how to play it by listening to the tune enough and working on it secretly in your room. Her face had lit up when you played it for her on her birthday. 

You missed her smile. 

“What song is that?” Yeosang’s voice cut through your memory. It irritated you. Are you not allowed even a few minutes to yourself? “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a song from home,” you answered. “You wouldn’t care.”

‘You’ve got natural born talent, baby girl.’

“Ugh, you humans are so sentimental. It’s-”

“-Fuck you, demon-boy,” you snapped over your shoulder, fingers slamming down the keys in emphasis. “Not everyone had parents who didn’t give a shit about them.” 

“I’d rather have no parents than one who smacked me around,” he remarked. “Come on, Master Seonghwa will be here soon and he’ll be cross if he sees you all weepy like that.”

You heard him leave, and anger boiled in your veins. It angered you because he was right. You would’ve rather not had a father than the one you lived with. 

“YN!” 

Leaving the bench, you walked through the apartment to the dining room. They’d already put down the fine china and utensils for lunch. You pushed your father from your head as you sat down. Putting the cloth napkin on your lap, you wondered what you’d be having for lunch. Mama used to make peanut butter and jelly, with fruit and juice on the side. She’d put a cookie and a note inside for you. She loved you, and you treated her so terribly. You remembered purposefully leaving the bag in your locker so your friends didn’t ridicule you. Having loving parents amongst your friends was embarrassing, even though now you wished you hadn’t cared. 

“YN? Yeosang?”

Yunho appeared in a puff of smoke, in his usual servant attire. “Morning, Yunho,” you said politely. 

“Sir,” Yeosang bowed. “What can I help you with?”

“I’ve come to inform YN that Master Seonghwa won’t be coming home for lunch,” he said. “He has a lunch meeting with his superiors, so he can’t stop by. You’ll be dining alone today. He sends his deepest apologies and hopes you enjoy lunch.” 

“That’s fine,” you said. “I understand. Thank you, Yunho.”

He nodded, disappearing once again. You sighed softly to yourself. Finally, a moment of peace. When the servant brought the first course, you thought you might scream. 

‘Sorry, Kitten. I hope you enjoy your day. I’ll see you tonight.’

The pink post-it note was attached to the tray cover. Inside, you found apple slices and a cup of caramel sauce. Mama added caramel because she knew how much you liked it with the apples. It was cruel. It was a sick joke. Seonghwa must have read your mind or learned or guessed and thought it’d be funny to taunt you. To spite your master, you ate them. He likely expected you to storm out and not eat for the day. You'd prove him wrong. You'd show him. You can be strong. You've been strong and tough your whole life. 

Main course hurt equally: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with barbecue chips. Your favorite brand specifically. Tears blurred your vision, but you held them back. You could feel Yeosang a few feet away; you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You ate the sandwich with a dry mouth. 

“You must be thirsty,” said Yeosang. “Here.”

A juice box. The cartoon apple beamed at you delightfully, the brand name over their head and another apple in their hands. Yeosang stuck the tiny plastic straw in the box for you and put it where your wine glass usually sat. It became apparent whose idea this had been.

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

He only laughed, walking away and back to his corner. You drank it anyway. It reminded you of the time fourteen-year-old YN brought lunch on her first day of high school. The kids, dressed in the popular fashion of the time, laughed when they saw the ham and cheese sandwich and loving note. You’d never felt more embarrassed than that moment. Was that when you stopped loving her? Or was it when she called you ‘sugar bear’ in front of your friends? Or when she wore a t-shirt with your face on it for your birthday? Your throat clogged up with sadness, and you stopped eating. She loved you and you were embarrassed by her. 

Dessert? Chocolate chip cookies. Her chocolate chip cookies. You knew by the texture and misshapen outlines. In a fit of rage, you grabbed the plate and tossed it across the table. The expensive plate bounced off the edge and shattered on the wooden floors. You glared at Yeosang, who’d gotten a kick out of your reaction. 

“What’s the matter, YN? You don’t like cookies?” 

The juice box in hand, you hurled it at him. The distance was quite impressive, and the stain it’d leave pleased you. Yeosang gave you a shocked expression that turned sour quickly. You threw your napkin onto the ground and stormed towards the doors. They slammed closed the second you reached the threshold. They might have hit you if you’d taken another step. 

“Where do you think you’re going, slut?” Yeosang growled, fire in his voice. 

Anger normally burns like hot coals in one's belly. It scorches everything in its path through the blinding red rage. Yet, that rarely happened to you. Your rage stung. A real, hateful, borderline murderous rage pinched your nerves, and flowed through your chest like a bad heartburn. A biting pain started in your chest and rushed to your hands and your feet. This wrath never daunted your anger. It seemed to add it. 

“Away from you!”

The doors suddenly burst back open again, wood cracking the edges and a door knob flying off. You breathed deeply, fighting back the caustic acid in your throat.  You charged through to the front doors, pushing them open with force. The sudden burst startled a quiet Mingi, who sprung into action right away. 

“YN, what’s going on?” 

You didn’t answer him. Immediately, the Black Keep felt suffocating. The elegant white walls and carpeted floors smothered any air in your body. The sun glowing through the tall windows felt hotter on your skin. For the first time since you arrived, you resented this stupid house. This pretentious, obnoxiously wealthy home for horny demons. It sickened you. Mingi’s deep voice called after you, echoing in the high ceilings, but you kept moving. You never explored the mansion yourself because you’re so confined to your “schedules”. Fuck schedules. Fuck rules. Fuck everything. Fuck your snobby, self-serving bastard masters. 

You found your way outside after several turns and staircases. Glass doors led to a grand staircase down into the vast gardens of the Black Keep. Outside, you finally found a refuge to make your own. The faint sweet scent of flowers and fresh air filled your lungs and cooled your hot skin. Everything felt electric. A growl came through your throat that you didn’t think possible. In the seclusion of a maze, the scathing pains cooled down with each breath. Hot tears finally spilled from your eyes. You wished they’d killed you that night or sent you back to your brothel. That way you wouldn’t be wishing to see her again. 

Finally, you found yourself in an enclosed space. Gravel covered the walkway in and around the fountain and benches. The fountain, you saw, was three tiers of water and flowers spiraling and blooming from the top. Flowers in various shades of pink and white grew from the green leaves and vines. You plopped down on one of the benches and stared at it. Briefly, you thought about her again. She loved flowers. She claimed your father once liked them too; he owned a florist shop in town, but you found that hard to swallow. Flowers are delicate; he was anything but that. Your masters are exactly the same. They hide behind their pretty belongings and silly aesthetics. They dazzled you with good sex and pretty things to pacify you. Just like your bosses. Just like every other man in your life. 

But you turned their games back on them. You used them like how they used you. You stepped on them to reach the top. You’d been a college drop-out with no references or experience in anything. Jobs weren’t hard to find, but good paying ones were. A pretty girl working in an office full of men, you knew what you had to do. You destroyed long-standing careers, marriages, familial relationships and friendships to get what you wanted. No man or woman could say no to you. Your beauty rendered them powerless. A flash of a smile, a touch of a hand and a suggestion pulled them into you like fish on hooks. You heard the whispers around the office. You knew what people said behind your back. 

“YN’s a maneater.” 

“She’s a snake in the grass.” 

“A viper with pretty teeth.” 

“Who exactly do you think you are?” Yeosang came into the space, and you didn’t look at him. “Hello? Answer me, slut.”

“Leave me alone.”

“You lost that-”

“-I said leave me alone, slave,” you let the insult drip from your voice. 

“You don’t get to be alone anymore. You lost that-”

“-And I’m taking it back!” You fisted a few pebbles from the ground and launched them at his shiny, black shoes. “Go away! Now!”

Yeosang growled deep in his chest and charged at you. The moment he gripped your wrist, you slammed your fist into the center of his face. Your knuckles burned, but it felt worth it to see his nose bleed. The two of you scowled and snarled at one another. Like two animals in a cage, you clashed at once. Yeosang punched your cheek hard, bringing on a stinging you’d grown used to right away. You wrestled him to the ground, something you didn’t know how to do but did it anyway. Dirt and gravel shifted as the two of you slapped, punched and kicked one another. You saw the red in Yeosang’s eyes fill them completely, dark and angry as he bared sharp fangs. The brief second let you slam your fist into his jaw.

His body felt hard and hot against yours even under all the layers. You could tell he had a similar build to Mingi, albeit smaller and shorter. Grabbing at his arms, the hard muscles flexed under your hands. When your body collided with his, you took in the slight, strong frame. He'd be fuckable if you didn't hate him. The two of you paused for a moment, both of you panting heavily and bleeding. You stared up into his face, seeing his wide eyes and soft lips. He gazed down your own face as if really taking you in. Then Yeosang ripped the ties keeping your dress closed. 

“Fucking slum slut,” he grunted through his teeth, tearing the fabric with his sharp nails, “You think you have power here? You think you’re something special? Think again.”

“Like you’re any better!” you hit his kidney area, and rolled him over. You tore at his clean, white shirt. The buttons popped off when you opened it to reveal his smooth, chiseled chest and abdomen. Grinding your hips, you pinched and rubbed his nipples. “Look at you,” you growled, rolling his nipples while moving your hips, “You’re just as slutty as me. All of you are.”

“Fuck you!”

He slashed at your cheek and pushed you off him. Falling onto your back, you knelt upright as he went for you. His body flung in reverse, he pushed you onto your back and grabbed at your panties. You kicked your legs and bucked your hips as the arousal built up in your lower region. The sound of tearing fabric, and the cool air brushing your sex made it clear. He'd torn them off. You grabbed at his black hair, pulling at it while he resisted. Burying his face in your crotch, he wildly licked and sucked your clit. You didn’t dare let out the noises in your throat. His tongue slipped and slid over your hard clit. Two could play that game. Roughly removing his belt and unzipping him, you spat on his semi-hardon and stuck it in your mouth. The two of you laid on your sides, each one trying to coax a single moan from the other and resisting. 

“Fucking whore,” he seethed, rapidly rubbing your clit, “You never say no to dick, do you?”

You nearly ripped off his pants when you broke out of his grip. Dick hard and red, it pulsed in your hand as you grabbed his balls underneath. “And you don’t say no to my mouth,” you shot back, spitting on him more and wetting his delicious cock. “You act like you’re better than me, but I see how you look at me. You want to fuck the shit out of me every minute of the day.” You tugged at his ballsack, earning a loud hiss, “My pussy dripping in your mouth…My ass gripping your tiny cock.”

“It’s not tiny!” 

It really wasn’t, but you’d never tell him that. He rolled you onto the ground, straddling your hips and roughly tugging on your bra. Your tits filling his hands, he squeezed them as he placed harsh kisses on your neck. His dick, throbbing and wet, pressed right to your sex. You reached down to him, and continued stroking him while he bit and sucked your nipples. Heavy breathing, grunting and groaning came between you. You hungered for him. You hated that your body betrayed you so easily; it gave him a power you never gave up to anyone. His expert tongue teased the tips of your nipples, sucking the pebbles until they grew harder. His large cock leaking into your hand, so close to your sex, you thought you might go insane with need. 

You shoved him off you and started humping him. Focusing on your pussy rubbing the head, you smirked in pleasure at his whimpering. Yet, he refused to show any arousal.  Yeosang kept squeezing your tits, which sent you into a new whirl of pleasure. 

“Slut,” he slapped your breast hard, “Slut, slut, slut.” 

He emphasized each word with a slap to your tits, which had you pinning down his knees. You saw his dick standing straight up, and you smacked it hard. It wagged in the air, and you heard Yeosang give a painful hiss. 

“Slave, slave, slave,” you mocked him, slapping his dick and balls. You knew he liked it by how he grew even harder. “You’re a bigger whore than me. Each of you,” you lifted his dick to slap his testicles and make him jerk. “All of you are a bunch of whores. I only have to flash you and you all drool like fucking dogs.” You stroked him while smacking his balls, the combination of pleasure and pain making him leak in your hand. 

“Don’t make me laugh!”

He grabbed your hair and pulled you over again. His dick slipped into your throat, choking your airway with his girth. “We only have to touch you a little bit, and you get soaked! Look at you now,” he shoved himself in and out of your mouth, “Taking my dick like a champ as your little cunt gets wet for me. You slum sluts love cock. You crave dick all day.”

You started sucking him earnestly, humming around him in your throat and grabbing his pert ass cheeks. Yeosang groaned when you forced a finger into his asshole, the move making him fuck your throat faster. Snug walls sucked your finger further inside him, pulsing at this new intrusion. You felt his hole growing wetter, but not with what you expected. What appeared to be a thin, clear cum worked as a lube. Self-lubricating. You never found anything hotter. Yeosang grew louder, moaning against your pussy and pushing into your throat.

 “Going to make you my cum dump,” he said, eyes closed, “I’m going to make you swallow my whole load. You’d fucking love that.”

Sinking two fingers into you, you grabbed his arm and pushed him onto the ground. You continued sucking him off, straddling his head, and forcing his knees apart. Yeosang groaned and panted loudly as you fingered and sucked him. He hooked his arms around your thighs, and pulled your pussy onto his mouth. Neither of you spat any more insults. You’d make Yeosang cum like that whore he truly is. You’d get one over on him with your throat and fingers. Reaching deep inside, you found the spongy parts of his prostate. He moaned loudly on your clit, flicking the sensitive nub and sucking on it obscenely. His walls tightened around your fingers, and you matched your fingers' pace with your mouth. You grinded against his tongue, whimpering when it slipped inside you. He slapped your ass much harder than San ever could. You dug your nails into the fleshy part of his inner thigh before dragging them down. He bit the inside of your thigh. You smacked his balls hard. A primal hunger came out of each of you. Your body wished to give in, but your mind didn't let you. You tasted him leaking into your mouth, which you used to spit into your hand and shove back into his ass. 

“Too bad I don’t have a dildo to fill this pretty hole,” you taunted him, “Whores like being fucked in their ass.”

“You would know,” he said, mouth full of pussy. He grabbed your hair, holding you in place as he pushed up into your mouth. “You’d fucking know, wouldn’t you, bitch?”

You kept his legs open as you fingered him faster, spit making it easier to slide in and out. He was practically riding your hand after a time, and you started riding his long tongue. You wouldn’t cum first, even if the sensation started building behind your clit. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Cum for me, bitch,” he smacked your ass with both hands, “Cum like the fucking whore you are.”

“You first, asshole,” you used your hand to smack his balls while you throated him again. 

His tongue reached up to your g-spot, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head. You heard his moans grow louder, much like when you’d given him the handjob. The slick sounds of his wet cock and hole being used nearly sent you over the edge. The moment you taste thick salty cum, you begin sucking him harder and fingering him deeper. Once your thighs trembled, Yeosang kept the same pace and forced you to his face. It was too close to tell, but you both came. His cock stifled your feral groans and your pussy muffled his high moans. You hated to admit he tasted so damn good. You stroked and sucked each drop, loving the slightly sweet taste in the process. 

When you both finally came down, you moved away from him and wiped your mouth and fingers on the end of his coat. He did the same with your dress, the wetness clear against the cotton fabric. 

“Just couldn’t get through lunch without some dick, huh?” he spat with a smirk. “You slum sluts are unbelievable.”

“You didn’t complain when I was finger fucking your ass.”

“And you didn’t when I came down your throat. Cock-hungry, cum-eating skank.”

“Not as bad as being a desperate, small-dicked prick.” 

He spat in your direction, and stood up. “Get cleaned up and come to the library. We’re not done with your lessons today.”

You didn’t dare flop down into the ground. On jelly-legs, you used the fountain water to clean your hands and mouth before following him through the garden. Neither of you said anything on the way back to the library. Mingi spotted your limping and torn dress, and glared at Yeosang. 

“What did you do?” he said, hands clenching at his sides. “The Masters will whip you for this.”

“I didn’t put it in her,” Yeosang said, walking past him without stopping. “I know her cunt is theirs even though it should be everyone’s with how horny she is all the time.”

Mingi’s glare diminished when he saw you. Removing his jacket, he put it over your shoulders and buttoned it to cover your body. “Are you okay?” he touched your tender cheek, pulling away when you winced. “They’ll put him on the whipping post for this.”

“I’m fine, Mingi,” you assured him. “It was just a bit…rough, that’s all.” He tried hiding the intrigue in his eyes, but you caught it and stepped closer to him. “You know I like things a bit rough,” you said in a whisper, “Especially rough enough to make me cry.”

“I should’ve gone with you then,” he said, wiping underneath your lip. “I’d give you something to really cry about.”

“Sounds like fun.” 

You brushed yourself against his crotch as you turned in his arms and walked into the room. They make it so easy. It was amusing. Finding Yeosang in the library, you saw he’d pulled out several leather books. By their worn out spines and the corners, you guessed they must be several centuries old. The one scroll he’d taken out seemed delicate and frail as he carefully unrolled it on the table. 

“Lose the jacket,” Yeosang ordered, “If you insist on acting like a whore, Master Seonghwa should see it when he returns home.”

Rather than argue, you removed the jacket. 

And the dress. 

And your bra. 

In nothing but your heels, you sat in front of him and took one of the copies on the table. “What’s first in the curriculum?” you asked, pretending as if you sitting naked was entirely normal. 

“Oh, so you do know words with more than two syllables,” he said, acting surprised. “Look at you, little scholar.” He took his own copy of a book titled ‘Literature of the Kings: A Collection of the Middle Ages'. “We’ll start today with writings from the high middle ages. Master Seonghwa likes to talk about them, so try and keep up. Maybe you'll actually remember the time period.”

“The middle ages are all the same to me.”

While you both went over the first collection of old writing, you knew Yeosang kept looking at your body. You liked the attention and obvious struggle he faced. As he told you about something called The Cranberry Tales or whatever, you stretched to show off your chest to him. He’d finished with you in the garden, but here he was struggling to focus on his lesson plan. You wanted him to admit he was hornier than you and his masters combined. The men you used in the previous life liked to think themselves superior to everyone; they acted like the titans in their fields. You knocked them down a few notches with your pussy. It felt particularly good with men who acted above you, the secretary or office manager. Once you sat on them, they crumbled like broken cookies. 

Yeosang made it through the literature lesson, and you moved to History and Geography of Inferno. The map on the table detailed the various circles, inner and outer rims. Each part in different colors, it depicted which territory belonged to which prince. You'd seen the map before, since he brought it out every lesson. Seonghwa and Yeosang believed if you lived in Hell, you should know its lands. You decided to stand on his side of the table, hands on the edge as you moved in front of him. 

“Where are we on here?” you asked, rolling your hips into his groin casually. 

“In Prince Asmodeus’s domain, as I've told you before, the Lands of Depravity,” he pushed right back into you, arms going through yours to point to the light red space on the map. One hand casually grabbing your breast, he continued, “Everything from this end of the circle to this end is his. The whirling winds where you came from are on this side away from the main city. I understand why you were put there now…” he pressed his lips to your ear as he pinched your nipple, “You just had dick and now you want more. I guess you like my ‘tiny dick’.”

“I don’t know what you mean. You’re the one pushing your dick into my ass.”

“Because you make it so readily available to me.”

“Like you wouldn’t take it if I didn’t dangle it in front of you like a dog wanting a treat.”

“I’d fuck you like the bitch you are.”

“The only bitch is you.”

You squeaked when a hand smacked across your ass again. He went back to explaining the areas of the map, the others areas of Hell and which families owned them. The Rivers of Wrath belonged to Satan's clan, while the long mountain area called The Golden Range was Prince Mammon's domain. Prince Belphegor saw over the Forest of Agony above the seventh circle; Prince Beelzebub, Prince of Gluttony, owned the vast, fruitful food resource of Hell called The Meadow. Anyone related to Prince Leviathan lived in the cold, stormy seaside Port Envy. Every prince had an heir, someone who watched over their land for them. Some princes had more offspring than others. Yeosang mentioned Prince Belphegor having the least amount, since children do not interest him. Asmodeus had the most, understandably. He told you one of the biggest rules in Hell:

"You don't enter another prince's territory without permission."

When he demanded you repeat the information back to him, he cupped both your breasts and squeezed them. It only mildly distracted you. As you described every prince and their heirs, Yeosang nibbled at your neck and slipped his hand between your legs. Your pussy, still wet from the garden, felt sensitive to his touches. 

“-And this is our family,” you pointed to the serpents around the thorny rose, “Master Seonghwa is the heir to the land, with Master Hongjoong and Master San right after him-”

“-Yes, I am the heir of this land.”

Yeosang and you jumped apart when Seonghwa stood in the doorway. Removing his tie, his dark eyes glinting with interest. “And the heir wishes to know why his Kitten is naked and grinding into his loyal servant?” 

“I was hot,” you said, standing straight and killing the desires inside you. 

“Very,” Seonghwa said, eyes gazing up your body. He stopped and gasped when he saw your split bottom lip. “Kitten, what happened?” He went straight to you, cupping your face to see it more closely. “Oh, Kitten…Yeosang, what-Wait, what happened to your face?” 

The redness on the bridge of his nose stood out against his porcelain skin, and so did the welt on his cheek. Even though he'd tried fixing himself up, he hadn't done a supreme job. 

“Did you two have a fist fight?” he asked him.

“Yes, Master,” Yeosang admitted. “She was being disobedient and having a temper tantrum.”

“After you pulled a mean prank on me at lunch.”

“You humans are so damn sensitive,” he remarked. “It was only a joke. It's not my fault you can’t take a joke.”

“Nobody was laughing but you-”

“-Enough,” Seonghwa intervened, “You two argue like children.” He straightened his jacket as he said, “And you decided to fight? Where? In the dining room?” 

“No,” you answered. 

“Then who blew the dining room doors?”

“Yeosang!”

“What?! It wasn’t me! It was you!”

“I’m a human. I couldn’t have.”

“You did it somehow!” He snapped. “You slammed them open or pushed them hard to frame me.”

“Shut it,” Seonghwa snapped. “Where did you do it?”

“In the garden,” you said. 

“She’d stormed away from me when I told her not to,” Yeosang explained quickly. “I only followed her to bring her back into the house.”

“And instead of bringing her back you decided to hate fuck her again?” he asked, hands on hips. “Yeah, I can smell it on both of you. What did you do?”

“Hit each other,” you answered. 

“I mean sex-wise,” he elaborated, “What did you do to one another?” Not getting an immediate response, he said, “Oh, now you’re both suddenly ashamed?”

“I finger fucked him,” you answered, “While I sucked him and slapped his balls.”

“And I…” Yeosang hesitated. “I tongue fucked her pussy and fucked her throat.”

“Oh yeah?” The small descriptions intrigued your master, a smirk spreading on his face. He lifted your chin and examined your other injuries. You winced at the thumb touching your jaw, and he placed a soft kiss on it. “How many times did you both cum?” he asked, licking the caked blood on your broken lip. 

“Only once,” you replied, your body warming to his hot tongue. 

“A quick one then?” a low rumble came from his chest, and you knew what ran through his mind. 

“Yes,” you answered in unison. 

He looked between the two of you, then said, “Come with me.” 

Nervousness killed the arousal Yeosang started up again. There’d been no specific rules against sex with the other servants. They only said nobody could have vaginal sex with you. Is he punishing you for the door? It was Yeosang, not you. Maybe for fighting him? You can imagine that. Seonghwa likely believed fighting wasn’t lady-like. Reaching Seonghwa’s bedroom, you took in the tall canopy bed with its white floral curtains and white bed covers. The sunlight dimming outside left the room in a golden glow, bringing out the bright colors in the room. Seonghwa removed his jacket, putting it behind a chair he brought closer to the bed. 

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, taking a seat and relaxing in his chair. On a table beside him, he poured himself a brandy. “And finish what you two started in the library.”

“Sir, really,” Yeosang huffed a laugh, “This isn’t necessary-”

“-Do you both need to be fighting for the sex to happen? Is that your foreplay?”

“It’s not my fault he gets hard berating me all the time,” you said, shooting him a glance. “He’s always calling me names and insulting my intelligence.”

“I’m not saying anything untrue,” he replied. “You’re a cock-starved slum slut. Is that not true?” 

“And you’re an uptight, snobby small-dicked bitch boy,” you spat. “That sounds pretty accurate to me.” 

Seonghwa laughed, sipping his brandy, “You two really can go at it, huh? Keep going. This is fun.”

“If my dick is so small, how could you gagged on it when I fucked your mouth?” he challenged, stepping to you. 

“Psh, you call what you did ‘gagging’? The only thing that made me gag is your gross tasting cum. I wouldn’t eat it even if it was the last edible source in the world.”

“Look who’s talking. Master Seonghwa says your pussy tastes like honey, but I think it tastes like rotten fruit.”

You pushed him, and he pushed back. That sharp feeling in your chest returned, pooling like saliva in your mouth. You swallowed it back even if it hurt. Showing any sign of desire would mean Yeosang won. You wouldn’t let him. 

“Slap her,” Seonghwa said, eyes trained on both of you. “You’re going to let a slum slut talk to you like that? She’s a filthy human, and you’re a grandson of Satan. How dare she disrespect you that way.”

Yeosang took his words to heart and smacked you again. “Ooh, that was hard,” Seonghwa laughed, “Kitten, don’t just stand there. Hit him back.”

So you did. Yeosang blocked the hit and slapped you. When he reached for you, you turned him onto his back on the bed. Once more, you tore at Yeosang’s clothes much more harshly this time. The broken buttons made it much easier, and it came off with his coat as well. Yeosang squirmed when you took his nipple between your teeth. As you teased his nipples, he reached down to your own to pinch them hard. 

“Come on,” Seonghwa drawled, “You two can do better than nipple stuff. Bite each-Haha, yes! Like that!”

Yeosang sunk his canines into your shoulder, making you yelp in pain as he drew blood. You did the same back, and the taste of his blood stirred your hunger. It tasted like a good rare steak. You supposed demon blood tasted that way. You’d started grinding into Yeosang as you bit across his collarbone. The sting of pain didn’t stop him from pushing you onto your back. He straddled your stomach and started slapping your tits again, using wide swings to add extra pain. You cried out as he did it to them at the same time, enjoying the stings of pain with your arousal. Trying to wriggle out from under him, you undid his pants to pull his cock out again. You held his hands on your tits as you slipped his length between them. 

“Oooh a nice tit fuck,” Seonghwa said, “How delightful. You’re not going to give in that easily, are you, Yeosang? I didn’t think the sons of Satan could be so weak.” 

“He is weak,” you confirmed, glaring at him as you pumped him with your breasts. “He’s already dripping on my tits. He loves my tits, don't you, Yeosang? Huh? My soft tits and hard nipples?” 

“You fucking bitch,” Yeosang growled. 

You laughed mockingly at him, and he slapped your face. Still laughing, you grappled with him as he tried getting you onto your front. 

“Pin her down,” Seonghwa cheered, “Get her ass in the air.” 

“What’s going on here?” a curious voice came from the door. San appeared, fresh from work, and he stopped next to Seonghwa when he saw you and Yeosang on the bed. “Are they wrestling?”

“Hate fucking. Care to watch?”

“Absolutely. I love a good hate fuck.” 

Forced onto your front, you tried lifting Yeosang off your back. Laying on your horizontally, he held you down while he began landing hard slaps to your ass. Your kicking and jerking amused the three demons. 

“Finger her,” Seonghwa called out, “Make her cum first.”

“Darling, just grab his dick. It’s right there.” 

You curved your body as much as possible to reach Yeosang’s hardening cock. Yeosang in return slipped two fingers into your aching pussy. Seonghwa cheered for Yeosang when he spotted the butler listening to his instructions. Yeosang spread your legs further, putting one hand under you and another over you and he fingered your pussy and rubbed your ass hole. Whining and whimpering, you spat on your hand and worked him up and down. You felt him pulse with each stroke. With a hard squeeze of his shaft, the brief pain distracted him enough to lose his grip on you. Sitting on his chest, you spat on his dick and stroked him with both hands. Yeosang’s fingers tickle the tops of your feet until you become ticklish. You kept jerking him off even as you fought the tickling sensation in your feet. He went further up your feet until he reached the center of your sole, which had you kicking to escape them. 

“Ticklish much, slut?” Yeosang teased before grabbing both ankles. 

He rolled you onto your front, pinning you down with his body and continuing to tickle your feet. Laughing from the tingling feeling, you tried moving your feet from him but when he turned around against you, using the empty space like a chair, it was over. Strong arms wrapped around your legs, he kept tickling your feet and backs of your legs. 

“Is it weird that I’m kind of into this?” San asked his brother. 

“Hongjoong’s into it, so let that be your answer.”

“Tickling isn’t that weird…”

You eventually kicked a foot out, and scrambled away from Yeosang. On the other side of the bed, you stood ready to tackle him. 

“Uh-oh, she got away, Yeosang,” Seonghwa jeered. “Just grab her!”

Yeosang lunged for you, managing to yank you onto the bed by the hair. Bent over, he brought you into the middle by an arm around your thighs. You struggled in his grasp. Your lower half in his lap, Yeosang resumed tickling your feet with one hand while holding your face into the bed with the other. Shimming your hips around, your pussy pressed to his cock easily. Yeosang let out a soft moan when you slipped him between your thighs. Grinding up and down, you fucked Yeosang with your thighs. 

“She’s thigh fucking him even in that weird position,” San chuckled. Finally seeing him, you saw he’d pulled up his own chair and drank from a brandy glass. “God, that’s hot.” 

The door opened again when you rolled off Yeosang. “Ah, so this is where everyone is!” Hongjoong walked into the room, and saw you and Yeosang on the bed. “Well, well, what is going on here?”

“Fight fuck,” San answered, “Pull up a chair.”

All three men groaned and laughed when you slammed a fist into Yeosang’s face. “Pet can really throw a punch!” Hongjoong laughed, shocked by the blood dripping from Yeosang’s mouth. 

“Put him inside you, Darling,” San suggested. “Milk him with that delicious pussy of yours.” 

“And he’d love it,” you growled at Yeosang, not hesitating to slide him inside you. Bouncing fast and hard, you pinned him by his shoulders and fucked him. “Who’s the fucking whore now, hm? Who’s the whore now?”

“It’s still you, bitch!”

Yeosang punched you this time. Teeth cutting into your cheek, he used the moment to force you onto your back. Blood tinged your mouth, which you gathered and spat on him. This only angered him more. 

“Fuck her, Yeosangie,” Hongjoong called, “Fuck her!”

The three brothers hooted when Yeosang curled you and shoved his dick into you hard. The bed bounced in every thrust. You refrained from moaning in each blissful push. Stars exploded in front of you whenever his dick went particularly deep. You swore the man was drawing out your sanity bit by bit. You clawed at his arms, his hands and back to distract him but he kept on going. The stabs of pain did not stop him at all. Even as blood peeked out of the hard scratches, Yeosang seemed unfazed. 

“You can tap out any time, Kitten,” Seonghwa said, “You can give in and let him fuck your pretty holes.”

“N-No,” you grunted, trying to slide out from under Yeosang even if his cock hit your g-spot perfectly. “Oh fuck, no. No, no, no, fuck you, no!”

Sensing your orgasm, Yeosang started pushing deeper. The brothers having a perfect view of Yeosang inside you, they started counting his thrusts. 

“Bet she cums in, like, ten more thrusts,” Hongjoong said. 

“I bet five,” Seonghwa replied. “She’s already curling her toes, look.” 

“Darling, come on, don’t give in that easily. You hold on so well for me in my bed.” 

You used all your strength to get Yeosang off you. Once separated from him, putting one arm on his throat, you squeezed his balls as you started sucking him. 

“That’s my girl,” San said approvingly. “That’s it. Give him a nice blowjob.”

“Fucking hell, Yeosang! You almost had her!” 

“Kang Yeosang,” Seonghwa scolded him, “If you don’t turn that bitch around and get back to fucking her, I’m going to put you in the greenhouse. You remember how stretched your ass hole got when Dennis finished with you, don’t you?”

This threat caused you and Yeosang to roll onto the hard floor. A shock of pain went from your head to your back, with you breaking Yeosang’s fall. Scrambling over you, he took advantage of your hard fall and lifted and spread your legs. Your head stuck against the bed frame, the awkward position nearly choked you. Keeping himself up on his hands, Yeosang fucked you in a reverse position that pleased your audience. 

“I bet you she passes out,” Hongjoong tapped San’s arm. “He’s got her in a rough position.”

“Darling, don’t give up,” San encouraged you. 

“No, do give up, Darling,” Hongjoong said, “I want to fuck you after Yeosang.”

“Hell no,” said Seonghwa, “It’s my day so I’m fucking the loser first.” 

Using Yeosang’s tactic against him, you started tickling Yeosang’s feet. He collapsed right at the first few brushes. To keep your audience happy, you managed to maneuver yourself on Yeosang so they could see you jerk him off with your soaked cunt. 

“She’s so fucking wet,” San moaned. You saw the bulges in each of their pants. San palmed his down to focus on you instead of his own pleasure. “How long have they been at this?”

Seonghwa told his brothers what you and Yeosang did in the garden. While he recounted the story, Yeosang knocked your elbows so you fell onto his chest. Locking his legs around yours, he stuck his hand to your pussy and started rubbing your sensitive pussy quickly. You managed to stick him between your thighs again, grinding into him. Both of you grunted and groaned, restraining your needy whimpers as you fucked on the ground. You refused to let him win. Even with your bloody mouth and aching muscles, you fought against him. 

“Holy shit, they did that?” Hongjoong laughed. “Sounds to me like they’re both whores. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“Neither do I,” said Seonghwa, “But it riles them up. I figured a one-on-one will settle things between them.”

“By how they’re fucking, I don’t think that’s going to happen.” 

Yeosang turned you into your front and stuck himself in your ass. Your sudden scream delighted the three men. “She loves it in her ass,” Hongjoong said, “Give it to her hard, Yeosang.”

“Fuck her ass,” Seonghwa chanted. 

The three brothers began chanting as you clawed at the hardwood floors. Pleasure pounded into you in every thrust. When your moans finally broke and became louder, the chanting ended and you heard clapping. 

“Make her cum,” Seonghwa said, “Get that slum slut to cum really hard. I want that pussy nice and sloppy for me.”

“Darling, stop being a wimp and fight back!”

“She’s too fucked out to care about fighting-Oh, oh, oh, I think it’s happening!”

You punched at Yeosang’s arms, hoping it might cause him to collapse, but he held strong. Your face pressed to the floor by his hand, you trembled and pounded the floor as you came. You felt humiliated and defeated. Yeosang laughed in triumph. Hongjoong and Seonghwa cheered at your quaking legs and stiff muscles. They encouraged him to keep going, but Yeosang pulled out and stood over you. He kicked you over onto your back, smugness on his blushing face as he put his foot on your chest. His muscles tensed and body rocked back and forth. Thick drops of cum fell right onto your face and neck. This time, you didn’t catch them in your mouth but instead turned your head. You hated how he laughed in the face of your defeat, humiliating you further by cumming all over you. 

“Oh, all of a sudden you don’t want cum in your mouth?” Seonghwa asked in disbelief. 

“Darling,” San moaned in disappointment, “You were doing so well. What happened?” 

“Yeosang’s cock happened, that’s what,” cackled Hongjoong, who stood to unbuckle his pants. “Now, it’s my turn.”

“No, it’s mine,” argued Seonghwa, taking off his shirt. “Like I said, it’s my day with her so I go first.”

“Then I’m going second. San goes last.”

“What? Why me?”

“You’re the youngest.”

“And the biggest,” he argued back.

“Oh give me a break. Don’t use that excuse again.”

“On the bed, bitch.”

Seonghwa took your ankles and Yeosang took your arms. In a single swing, they threw you onto the bed. “Fuck, look at that,” Seonghwa groaned, removing the rest of his clothes and climbing onto the bed, “Her pussy is so damn wet.”

“She’s a whore,” Yeosang said, tapping his dick on your mouth, “They’re always wet.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” 

He swiftly slid inside, and immediately began pounding into you. They both laughed at your instant moaning. Hearing you moaning, Seonghwa shook his head and slapped your cheek. “Losers don’t get orgasms,” he said, “They get their slutty hole fucked and pumped with cum. They don’t get to finish.”

“You should’ve considered that before fighting me,” Yeosang said, swiping his dick on your face. “Unless you lost on purpose, which is just pathetic. So, so pathetic.”

When you wiggled, Yeosang grabbed your arms to hold you down. San and Hongjoong appeared to keep your legs spread wide as their older brother quickly finished inside you. You quivered feeling hot cum shoot all over your walls. Being held down made it hard to escape the overstimulation each one brought. Hongjoong and Seonghwa switched places, and he swished his hard tip over your gushing sex. He chuckled when you whined, doing it even more to hear you cry out. He fucked you exactly how you expected, hard and fast. His hips snapped into yours while he rubbed your nipples. You nearly came again until he did first, adding his milky cum to Seonghwa’s load. 

“Oh fuck, look at this.”

They all groaned at the cum oozing out of your pussy. “Let’s see how much it gushes when I fill her up,” San said, sticking himself in you next. “I thought for sure you’d win, Darling,” he said, fucking into you hard. “I thought my wife was a winner.”

“Ma-Mas-t-er…”

“Shut up, whore,” Yeosang said, smacking one tit until you cried. “Keep talking and I’ll shut you up myself.”

“She’d probably like that,” said Hongjoong, tweaking your nipple hard. “She’d suck dick all day if we let her.” 

“I wouldn’t complain!” Seonghwa whimpered, on the verge of an orgasm. “I’d take her to work with me too. Let her suck me under the desk.”

“We should do that,” Hongjoong said, eyes brightening at the new idea. “It’d make my work day so much more fun.”

The thought set San off. He came in several deep thrusts, bulging your belly like always, and pushed back all the cum that leaked out of you. Yeosang, hard from watching them use you, finally took his turn. Your masters laughed and beckoned him to go faster inside you. 

“I’ll pay you fifty-gold if you make her cum again,” Hongjoong told Yeosang. 

“Fifty-gold and a weekend off,” added Seonghwa. 

“And your choice of a brothel whore,” said San. 

Playing with your clit and pounding your sweet spot, you saw stars as you came. Your high-pitched squeals and quaking body amused them, but angered you. Yeosang forced himself as deep as possible as his cum joined the mess already inside you. Your masters finally released you, watching you cry from the overwhelming sensations running through your body. When you moved to close up, they held you apart. 

“I want to see it,” Hongjoong said, looking to see their combined fluids seep out of you. “Haha, it’s so full. If she were even half a demon, we might’ve just knocked her up.” 

“If only,” said San with a pout. “She’d look so pretty pregnant.”

“I’ve never fucked a pregnant chick, surprisingly.”

"Are you okay, Kitten?” asked Seonghwa, cupping your face and kissing you. “Sensitive? Any pain?”

“Yes.”

“Here, lay back against the pillows.” 

“I’ll call Yunho. Yunho!” San called into the room, the butler appearing when summoned. 

You hardly paid attention to anything else. You glared at them, “You’re a bunch of whores too. If there’s a House of Kisses, then this is the Palace of Whores.” 

They laughed at your frowning face, and Seonghwa cooed. “Don’t be a sore loser,” he said, smiling and kissing you again, “You did well too. You’ll get him next time.” 

“If you want,” San came up next to you with a wet cloth, beginning to clean your face, “We can practice together. I’m quite good at fight fucking, I’ve been told.” 

“He really is,” agreed Seonghwa. 

“I’m more of a spectator.” Hongjoong knelt in front of you, another damp cloth in his hand. He went to touch your sex, and you clammed up, shaking your head. “I’m not going to do anything. We need to clean you, baby.” He gently moved your legs apart and cleaned the sticky mess coming out of you. “We can’t have you walking around dripping like this.” 

“Just get some rest, Darling,” San pecked your lips, “We’ll be here when you wake up.”��

“You promise?” you asked softly. 

“I promise,” he said, nuzzling your nose gently. “Be a good pet and sleep.” 

The last words you heard as you drifted to sleep were Hongjoong’s: 

“Dude, what happened to your doors?”

****

Yes, what had happened to the doors? Yeosang wondered about this as the masters converged on you. His body slumped into a nearby chair, sweat sticking to his skin and matting his hair. The grappling and fighting took a lot out of him, leaving his body sore and bruised in places. All the adrenaline in his veins died out after his third orgasm of the day. Surely, he’ll be needing that weekend off. The smell of apples clung to his nostrils even with the sweat and sex in the air. Your fruity fragrance always stuck with him after being around you too long. He wondered which perfume you owned had such potency. It usually wears off after a short amount of time, but yours always stuck around. 

“Yeosang,” Master Seonghwa approached him, pouring a brandy for him, “Here. For you.”

“Thank you, sir,” he nodded, mustering energy to grab the glass and sip from it. 

“She’s something, huh?” he asked, leaning in his own chair and finishing his brandy. “I’ve never had a human who can take such a pounding like that. They usually give up in the first few minutes.”

“She’s a whore, Master. It’s what she’s made for.”

“Humans are made to be blank slates for the world to fill up as they grow,” he said. He saw his master staring at you intently. Yeosang only saw that stare in one situation: when his mind was turning. “They’re meant to be given choices, leading them one way or another, and they’re given free will to choose. Kitten chose herself each time…”

“I suppose so, sir.”

“What does she smell like to you, Yeosang?”

“Master?”

“When you are near her, what does she smell like?”

“Apples,” he answered, “Apples covered in cinnamon.”

“Are you fond of cinnamon-apples?”

“I do enjoy them on occasion.”

“Hm, interesting.” He poured himself another brandy, “She smells like honey to me.” He smiled softly, “Golden honey spread over fresh, warm bread.”

“I am aware, sir.”

“Hongjoong tells me she smells like strawberry ice cream,” he said. “You know how partial he is to strawberries in general, but he says she’s like the ice cream specifically.”

“Huh,” Yeosang said, leaning in his chair. “That is interesting.”

“San says he smells orange slices.”

“So fruit based scents,” Yeosang concluded. “What does that tell you?”

“Remember when I kissed her?” he said, “Licked her bloody lip and all?”

“I do.” He’d found it a pleasurable sight. 

“My throat stung.” The silence that followed the words left many things unsaid. “It stung as if I had acid reflux. At the time, I thought it was something I ate but now…”

“Do you believe otherwise?”

“I do. You tasted her blood. How do you feel?”

Yeosang took a moment to think about it. In the heat of passion, he’d owned the stinging in his throat to his low growls and snarls. He thought it might’ve been the deep breathing drying out his mouth. Yet, as he took a purposeful swallow, he realized it stung slightly. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach might have been his tensed abdomen or another thing entirely. 

“The same.”

“Huh…And the doors-”

“-I would never damage your property, sir,” Yeosang interrupted. “Not even in the hottest of rages would I do that.”

“Then who did it?”

“I’m not sure. She might have touched it without realizing and pushed them hard. This house is very old, Master. It is possible.”

Seonghwa chuckled, “Yeosang, you are not so blind.”

“Then what do you believe happened?”

“I think Kitten hasn’t been entirely honest with us,” he said. “I must think about this more.” 

Yeosang felt a pit of worry break through him. “Master, what happened between-”

“-Dennis…” the name came from Seonghwa without realizing. 

Yeosang’s blood went cold. “What about him?”

“Let’s put her before him,” he suggested. “I’d like to see what happens.”

“What happens? Sir, I don’t believe that is the best idea. Dennis will drain her, then rip her apart. You’ll have lost-”

“-Let me worry about that. You go and enjoy your weekend off. I recommend that brothel in the high street. It’s called Scarlet Silk. They truly have a nice selection there.” 

“Master, the greenhouse is meant for disobedient slaves and for the maids,” he said, not letting it go so easily. “YN might be a bit untamed, but she doesn’t deserve such a harsh and cruel end. What happened between me and her was nothing. It was a spat between rivals. I would never truly harm her or wish her to be harmed. I could’ve easily have crushed her if I-”

“-I said I will worry about it, Yeosang,” he said with finality. “Clean yourself up and get some rest. Jongho can see after Kitten tomorrow.” 

“Yes, Master.” 

Regret tore his insides as he left the room in nothing but a sheet. Walking through the quiet palace, he worried about what he’d just done. He’d played the prank in hopes of heating you up for sex. Yeosang enjoyed the small spats and insults you threw at one another. He knew if you figured that out, he’d never have a peaceful moment. He’d struggled to keep himself together in the library, where you left yourself bare for him. He might have taken you right there if Master Seonghwa had not intervened. The two of you could always have an amicable relationship like you and Jongho. 

But, where was the fun in that? 

***

Y/N: hmm, interesting, no? We might start learning a few new things about YN now. As always, thanks for reading, and please reblog and like <3

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hiii, I have been thinking about Levi so much recently

The way I wanna take Levi down and make him a crying mess and shut him up and have him know that he isn’t aloud to touch the mc… and ofc using a strap on I wanna make that man cry below me and know that he isn’t in control anymore and all his pleasure is up to the mc and if he wants something he better start begging. Sorry I just…I love that man and I wanna see him on his knees begging whimpering and crying, knowing that no one else he’s been with would ever dare treat him like this. Anyways…. :) I wanna call him a pretty boy and a good boy and I wanna kiss his head and give him back hugs and treat him so gently. :) :) how are you Nini?

- 🐼

Hey hey, my Levi loving anon. I’m pretty alright, finally recovered from my cold, but I’ll be a tad more busy the next few months to I’m worried about having to time to write. So I might take a few breaks in the near future

Anyway, hope this suits your taste :D

Dom!reader x sub!leviathan

Warning: pegging (or can be read as a dick), a little breath play, collar, very gentle honestly

“…and stop.” You said, an amused expression on your face. Basically grinning from ear to ear as you sat on the bed, staring at the dirty blond hair of the devil. Levi straddled your lap, his legs spread and on the sides of yours. His back was facing you, and his hands bound in front of him. The male also wore a collar, one of leather and in purple, with a leash attached to it. And you held the leash firmly in your dominant hand.

Right after hearing your words, he sat down still. Gritting his teeth with a hint of defiance, feeling the humiliation take over his body. Your eyes wandered lower, staring at his tense muscles. All the way from his shoulder blades, to his hips and waists, then his bottom. He could feel your stare, how your eyes were scanning him up and down, especially when your gaze lingered around his butt. It didn’t take a genius to guess why you were staring. Lube was dripping down from his entrance onto your lap, and, though it was more difficult to see because he was sitting down entirely, the sight of your dick buried deep inside him.

Levi glanced at your over his shoulder, he bore rebellious intent and frustration. Every time you’d tell him to stop right when he starts getting into it, and it was getting under his skin. With a threatening tone, he voiced his thoughts, “isn’t it boring for you, keep on annoying me like this.” He was still so bold after being forced in such a situation. This was fine with you, teasing him is half the fun after all.

“How could it be boring when I get to tease you like this? Your reactions are cute, you keep trying to threaten me. Shouldn’t it click by now that it doesn’t work?” The glare he gave you just got deadlier, and the blush covering his face also got redder. A bright crimson spreading all the way to his ears while sweat rolled down his forehead. “You are a handful.” Levi mumbled, quickly breaking eye contact out of nowhere.

“The same can be said about you.” You answered, then leaned forward against him, hugging him gently. “A pretty boy like you shouldn’t frown so much.” He heard you whisper, and a shiver ran down his spine. The sudden closeness of you made him feel hot, and how he craved the pleasure you held in your hands. There were other things among those he wished to do, like touching you, holding you in his arms, …kissing you…

“…can I move?” A hesitant voice could be heard admits the gasps, his body felt like he was on fire. Without thinking about it you replied, “no.” His eyebrows twitched at your statement, “what.. why.” You chuckled, and that irritated him, how were you having so much fun when he feels so desperate?

“Levi, that’s not how to ask for something.” Were you implying he has to beg? You? Him? No matter how you looked at him, he was like a defiant kid throwing tantrums left and right. His hips moved slightly, going up a little, then sitting down completely again. You yanked on the leash, causing him to arch his back violently. The collar squeezed around his neck, and he moaned, “..ah-Aahh..”

“I thought I told you not to move?” His shoulders were raised to his ears, and he slumped forwards. It was embarrassing, yet he felt arousal with every of your touch. Why was it like this? Your length inside him only added more fuel to the fire, he wanted to move so badly. His own dick twitched when he felt that chocking sensation, body shuddering from the aftermath.

He didn’t have anything to say to your question, choosing to stay silent. After another minute where he was forced to basically cockwarm you, he looked over his shoulder again. Levi tried to read your expression, hoping he didn’t need to do what he speculated. But reality seems to suggest exactly that. The devil swallowed, taking a deep breath before whispering something inaudible.

“What was that?” You asked, and he pulled a grimace. He pouted, thinking you were messing with him again, and whispered a single word, “please.” Now a smile was tattering your features, hands wrapped around his waist while his back was pressed against your body. “My answer is still no.” You uttered with a teasing tone, your fingertips caressing his back and spine, tracing a line from the top to the bottom.

The sensations overwhelmed him, causing him to yearn for more. Shudders and tingles coursed through his veins, and he frowned out of habit. “You… stop the teasing.. please, i-” he had to take a break, the shame was too much to bear, then he continued, “I want more… please?” You didn’t saw much of his face, but you could imagine what kind of expression he must have pulled. The need and vulnerability could be heard in his voice, a layer of sweat covered his skin.

Once again you hugged him, muttering against his back, “so you can beg if you want to.” He bit his bottom lip at your comment, his heart pounding loudly. Then you praised him, “good boy, you look beautiful when you are obedient.” The male stayed silent, face burning now. Was it pleasure or embarrassment? But he knew he felt good. Everything felt hot and bubbly, he asked you again with a shaking voice, “..can I move, please..?”

You let go of the leash for a moment, hugging him with both hands as you said, “yes.” Watching his muscles relax in your touch, and his breathing becoming more heretic with each passing second. Slowly, he started riding you again, and more sounds of pleasure spilled from his lips. But he stopped abruptly again when he heard you whisper a single sentence, kissing his neck gently as you said, “I love you, Levi.”

[seethesin]

vampires everywhere!

pairing: Vampire!Hazel Callahan x F!Monster Hunter!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, hazel & reader are 18+, supernatural/vampire au, blood kink, heavy petting, biting, cunnilingus, teasing (18+, mdni)

a/n: based on the request by anonymous found here. i know i said i'd wait until we got closer to halloween, but this idea had a chokehold on me. gif pack/gif credit.

click here for part two!

"You came."

There's genuine relief in your target's disembodied voice as you enter the mausoleum. You look around frantically, squinting to try and adjust to the darkness. It's impossible though and suddenly, your hostess drops from the ceiling. She lands neatly on her feet, looming over you as she rocks gleefully on her heels. Startled, you back into the door.

She stands at average height with unkempt brown hair. Her skin is translucent; even in the dark, the blue plume of her veins crawls up her neck. A broad, boyish smile plays on her lips, revealing a pristine pair of fangs.

"I'm Hazel."

On instinct, you draw your silver stake. The tip presses precisely into her chest and she smirks.

"Feels like someone's happy to see me tonight."

You dig the stake deeper, watching as it tears a hole through her shirt and pierces her skin. Moments later, the scent of rotting, burning flesh fills your lungs and you cough. Droplets of blood drip from the wound and carefully, Hazel uses her middle finger to clean up the excess. She slips the digit in her mouth, sucking it clean as her skin sizzles against the silver. Her cheeks hollow sinfully and you gulp, your mouth watering.

You were disgusted with yourself. You were supposed to kill her, not fuck her.

"I'm thrilled," you respond blankly, gripping the hilt of your weapon steady. "Thrilled to dispose of another leech."

Hazel sneers, leaning back so that the tip of your stake unsheathes itself from her flesh. Moments later, the wound begins to heal itself.

"We both know that's not the reason," she singsongs, glacier-blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

Okay, maybe it's not the entire reason.

Through the monster hunter grapevine, you heard of a nightclub that hosted some high-profile fiends—The Last Drop. Many of the frequent flyers had bounties on their heads and you were eager to cash in.

As you spent your nights staking the place out, there was one person that you always noticed. It was the girl currently hovering over you, wearing her smile like a gold star on her chest. Like clockwork, Hazel left every time by four in the morning. Where she went after that you didn't know. But you would be lying if you said she didn't distract you from your main mission.

Hence why you were currently in this predicament. Curiosity got the best of you tonight and you followed Hazel back to whatever this was. Her lair? Her home? Her timeshare?

A snarky comment is readied on your tongue, but it dissolves as soon as you feel her mouth on yours. Your eyes go wide as saucers and your grip on your weapon falters. The stake hits the floor with a clatter that echoes throughout the high ceiling. Hazel's tongue slips between your parted lips and you taste the iron of her blood. Her fangs graze against your lower lip, drawing blood that she laps up eagerly.

Regaining control, you rip your face away from hers. Your breathing is shallow as you stare at her, bewildered. Hazel cackles in delight, drinking the sight of your swollen and bloody lips.

"I can read your thoughts, sweetheart. Don't they teach you that in Van Helsing school?"

Blush crawls up your neck and you lean into the door, defeated. This was beyond humiliating. To be completely bested by your enemy like this was difficult to recover from. You refuse to look at her willingly, but she closes the distance between you again. Her fingers pinch your chin, tugging it up so that you're forced to look at her.

Suddenly, you're dragged up the door, caged in between Hazel's arms. Her palms are planted at each side of your head and her thigh slips in between your legs.

"Guess not," she mutters, clearly amused.

The pressure of her thigh against your cunt makes you gasp. The rough denim of her jeans brushes against pussy, making you cant your hips. You refuse to admit it out loud, but you want more.

Thankfully, Hazel doesn't need to hear you say it.

Her hands grip your hips, holding you steady as she drags you down the length of her thigh.

"Oh god," you whisper, eyes screwed shut as you dig half moons into your palms. The sensation felt too good.

"Like that?"

You go mute. Hazel huffs, pushing you back up the length of her thigh.

"Gotta use your words," she urges and your eyes shoot open into a glare. Hazel's stupid grin does not falter as she leers predatorily at you. "If you don't, you're not cumming."

You whine.

It comes out before you can filter your thoughts. Your hands fly to your mouth, glancing up at Hazel as her intimidating stare melts into something mirthful.

She begins to laugh, adding to your embarrassment.

"There she is."

Her knee remains pressed into the wall, watching you expectantly. Defeated, you roll your hips, stealing friction between the fabric of your clothing. Eagerly, Hazel leans in. Her mouth is on your skin, kissing across your jawline and down the slope of your neck. You feel her teeth graze your flesh before quickly, her fangs pierce into your skin.

You moan, reflexively jerking away before leaning back into Hazel's unnaturally cool touch. Her tongue pokes out from her mouth, lapping the blood that drools from your fresh wound. Her hands slide into yours, pinning them against the door. She removes her thigh from between your legs and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"If your blood tastes this good," she begins, removing one hand from your wrist, only for the other hand to gather them both between her fingers. She presses your wrists back into the wall as her free hand sinks down your abdomen. Her hand slides to your pants, fingers sliding up the length of your clothed cunt. Your blood roars in your ears.

"I can't imagine what your pussy tastes like."

"Then do it."

Your statement is so immediate it makes Hazel flinch. She blinks in shock, looking up at you with the same surprise you experienced minutes ago.

"Yeah?" she asks and you nod curtly.

"Don't make me change my mind, leech."

Hazel beams.

Quickly, she brings you back onto the floor. Your fingers are at your pants, unzipping and unbuttoning the fly before shoving them down your thighs. You shimmy out of them, discarding them onto the floor. Your underwear follows soon after.

Hazel stares unabashedly, pupils dilated wide as her hands are on your waist. She hoists you back up against the door, positioning you so that she's between your legs, knees hanging over her shoulders as she stands eye level with your weeping pussy.

You feel Hazel's lips on your skin, her warm breath sharply contrasting the cold grip her fingers have on your body. A string of moans pushes from your throat as you feel her kiss across your inner thighs. Her fangs pierce the soft skin, drawing blood as her tongue cleans up the mess they leave. Your fingers thread into her dark hair, tugging firmly to guide her closer to where you need her most.

She chuckles and the vibrations go straight to your throbbing clit.

"So impatient," she tuts, but concedes and follows your somatic demand.

Her tongue darts out from her lips, kitten licking the length of your slit to your clit. You sigh out, rutting your hips toward Hazel's face as she envelops her lips around your clit. She sucks sharply and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your skull. You're not going to last long and Hazel doesn't need to read your mind to know that too.

It's when she fucks you with her tongue that you that you finally cum. The dam in your gut shatters and a wave of pleasure washes over you. Your nails claw at Hazel's scalp, shoving her in place as you grind your cunt into her eager tongue. Her hold does not falter, keeping you steady until your labored breathing evens out. After a few moments, her head darts out from between your legs. Even in the darkness, the shine of spittle and slick glows on her chin.

"How was that?" It was your turn to be cocky and you relished every moment of it.

Hazel lowers you back onto the floor, allowing you to locate your discarded clothing. She wipes her chin, the flat of her tongue licking off the remnants on her palm.

"You tell me." She tosses the question back to you as you pull your underwear over your hips.

"Well," you start, stepping in and pulling up your pants. You meet Hazel's inquisitive gaze as you fasten the button and pull the zipper up. A shit-eating grin cracks across your face.

"You're still alive, right?"

[cumikering]

Possessive best friend Soap x reader

1.6k | angst, bullying Soap crashed your date (Part 2) Idea from @ceilidho

Johnny stepped into the quiet restaurant with an easy smile. He didn’t take long to spot you - even with your back to him, he could recognise you anywhere. His smile turned into a cocky grin as he approached the table of two, his boots thudding.

Your date’s gaze floated over behind you at his figure approaching as his words trailed off. You frowned at his sudden withdrawal. When you turned to see what had stolen his attention, you were met with the sight of Johnny.

He dragged a chair from the next table, sitting next to you and your date. “Hey, you.” He nodded, flashing his signature boyish smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You tried to not roll your eyes, knowing what was to come already. “Johnny,” you said through gritted teeth, gesturing at the man across you. “I’m in the middle of a date.”

“I’m sure the lad wouldn’t mind,” he dismissed. “Oh, sorry, where are my manners? I’m Johnny. What’s your name again?”

“Daniel.” He let out a nervous chuckle, shifting his gaze to you.

“Nice to meet ya, pal.” He didn’t even try to mask the smack as a pat on the back.

You sighed. “Johnny, don’t you have other things to do?”

“Not at the moment, just want to catch up with my buddy here.” He shrugged, turning to Daniel. “So what were you guys talking about?”

Daniel seemed to have recovered from the interruption, going back to his easy-going self. “I was talking about my time in uni,” he said and took another bite of his pasta.

You stopped listening, severely distracted by Johnny’s uninvited presence as you moved your food around your plate.

It was better to shut down so you wouldn’t overreact and a fool of yourself. That, and Johnny lived off of your reactions. If you kept it cool, he would eventually get bored and leave you be.

He nudged you, pulling you back into reality.

“Hey, I thought you didn’t like guys who bounce their legs?”

Daniel paused his chewing. The table cloth finally stopped swaying against your thigh.

“That’s none of your business, Johnny.” You stabbed your fork onto your food with too much force, not lifting your gaze.

“But you told me it really irked you. Just like when people eat with their mouth open,” he replied, feigning innocence.

Daniel let out a cough at the comment, the blush creeping to his cheeks.

You let your fork drop to your plate. You didn’t mean to make it ring that loudly in the room. “Sorry, I need to go to the loo,” you announced to no one, avoiding eye contact. Your seat dragged across the carpeted floor.

You were glad the bathroom was empty. You leaned it over the sink, looking at your own figure in the large mirror as you huffed.

How dare he.

Yes, Daniel bounced his leg – it was one of the first things you noticed of him. Yes, he chewed with his mouth open, even spoke with his mouth full. Yes, these things peeved - no, vexed you. But he was funny and smart, handsome enough with a light stubble, and from what you could tell, handled difficult situations well (like keeping his composure while getting humiliated by a third-wheel on his first date).

You tried to give the man a chance, clutching onto his redeeming qualities, but with each flaw called out, it was hard for any sliver of attraction towards him to not diffuse.

It was embarrassing to even be in this situation, but you had to be realistic. After months of online dating, you’d met no one you were genuinely interested in. It was frustrating, near hopeless. No one was perfect, you reminded yourself. Yet at this rate, you’d find nobody, not when you couldn’t stop holding every potential partner up to Johnny.

No one would be as lively and funny as him, as loyal and strong, and you’d accepted that. But after all these years, why couldn’t you let go of the fantasy of being with him, or even someone like him?

Johnny flung a heavy arm around Daniel’s shoulder. “Mate,” he said.

Daniel jumped and turned to the Scot, tearing his gaze away from you rounding the corner.

“Did I mention I’m Special Forces? I’m a Sergeant.” He grinned at the way Daniel held his breath. ”We bench press recruits to warm up, usually about your size,” he added, nodding to himself.

“That’s wonderful,” he said, eyes darting away.

He retraced his arm. “Och, I didn’t mean to scare you, pal! I thought we were getting to know each other. Daniel Harris, was it?”

Another uncomfortable chuckle. He hadn’t mentioned his last name.

“Hey, you still live in Brentford, right? On Clifden and Brooks Road?”

This time, his façade dropped as colour drained out of his face.

“Any plans yet for your wedding anniversary? October is fast approaching.”

He scrambled from his seat, the force rattling the utensils against the tableware. “I think I better go,” he croaked.

“Aww,” Johnny cooed, the smug smile wider. “The very least you can do is pay for the meal, no?”

With a shaky hand, he tossed a few notes onto the table.

“Och, away an bile ye heaid, pal!” Johnny snapped, shooing him away. “Yer a fockin’ disgrace, ya prick!”

With that, Daniel quite literally bolted out of the restaurant.

You took a few more deep breaths before opening your eyes. You exited the bathroom with your head held high, determined to tell Johnny to piss off as rudely as he’d interrupted your evening.

But he was the only one at the table, in Daniel’s seat, leaning back onto the booth. He smirked, brow cocked. As you approached, you noticed the wad of cash in the middle of the table.

“Where’s Daniel?” you asked, alarmed.

“Sorry, lass. He said something came up.” He shrugged. “He paid for the meal though. Good lad.”

You took in a sharp breath as you balled your fists, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Just before the first tear fell, you stormed out the restaurant, ignoring his calls for you.

Clouded with anger, your feet took you far enough up the empty street until it occurred that you were not even heading in the right direction. Daniel had picked you up for the dinner. After what had unfolded, you weren’t even left with the satisfaction of slamming your own car door shut and screaming to your heart’s content in private.

You stopped, recognising the distinct thud of Johnny’s boots close behind.

“Hey,” he muttered. He reached for your shoulder, but decided against it.

You wiped your tears with the backs of your hands before whipping to him. “What’s your bloody problem, Johnny! This is not the first time you’ve ruined my date!”

He softened. “Lass, I’m just looking out for you.”

“I told you, if you have anything to say, say it after the date. You keep embarrassing me!” You couldn’t help raising your voice, more tears flowing out. “You don’t want to see me happy, do you? I’m trying fucking hard here, Johnny! Just because you don’t want a relationship, doesn’t mean you get to ruin my chances.”

He blinked, the air still between the both of you.

“I’m sorry, lass.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “You know that’s not true,” he mumbled.

You hated how pretty his lashes looked. “No, you’re not fucking sorry,” you spat, wiping at your tears again. “What’s your problem, Johnny? Are you scared we won’t be friends anymore? I’m royally sick of this – sick of you. You’re making me fucking miserable.”

His gaze snapped to you, equally fervent now. “Me? I make you miserable?” he repeated in disbelief. ”Ye know wha ma’ problem is?” His head cocked to the side. “Ma’ problem is tha I fockin hate hearin those Tinder pings an knowin it’s nae me who’s makin ye smile at yer phone!”

John’s accent always got thicker whenever he got fired up. You never had a problem understanding him, but this time you frowned. What you heard was so outrageous, you second guessed your hearing.

“Am fockin sick of seein the lot of arseholes ye meetin, when am right here!” He jabbed at his chest. “Wha the bloody hell do all these blokes hav tha I daen’t?”

“Johnny,” you said tentatively, taken aback by the sudden change of demeanour. “What are you on about?”

“Why are you so blind to me? I thought I made myself clear,” he softened. “All these years I’ve been trying to get you to notice me, to see me as more than a friend.”

Your breath stalled, eyes transfixed on how his lips parted slightly as he heaved, the way his crisp white button down stretched over his broad chest. You couldn’t believe what tumbled out of his mouth.

For the longest time, you had wanted him to wrap his strong arms around you, pull you close against his chest. Well, he often did, but with a teasing smile as he crushed you in his embrace. Friendly – not the way it was supposed to be. Not the way you wanted.

And here you finally were, hearing the words you previously could only imagine from him.

You leaned onto him, clutching the sides of his shirt. “I like you too, Johnny,” you said against his shoulder.

Johnny’s sigh carried a smile.

First fanfic. Would appreciate feedback and constructive criticism. Thanks :)

@sofasoap

[redladypaige]

With Mr. Beast's downfall, I think people are waking up to the idea that most of these kinds of competitions are unethical in of themselves.

Which is why it's a great time to revisit Dropout's Total Forgiveness, which is a Prank Wars type show that kinda condemns the whole genre. Which is a a bit wild because one of the first CollegeHumor viral moments was a prank war thing.

The idea is that Ally and Grant challenge each other to increasingly difficult challenges, where if they succeed they get money to reduce their college debt, and if they fail the money goes to the other person.

The show already breaks genre's conventions by discussion how the prize money will be taxed in the second episodes, and offering to increase the prizes to compensate for it.

You can be cynical and say that it's just for good publicity, but also they could have just said nothing at all. Now "treating your employees well" is almost Dropout's brand.

The first episode has Grant getting a leech treatment while listening to lecture on student debt, while Ally has to eat extremely spicy food while having an uncomfortable talk with an ex.

It is meant to be read as a condemnation of American Capitalism - getting people on debt they could never pay off, and the only way out is to humiliate and betray your values.

The end of the first episode shows it perfectly with its ending montage - Ally and Grant are recovering physically and mentally from their challenges, while facts about student debt appear on screen.

From there the show gets only crazier, with one of my favorite endings to anything.

I won't go into it in this post, I want to avoid spoilers for people who haven't watched it and it's already pretty long.

I do think this show is the essence of what Dropout is today. It's easy to forget that when dropout launched, it was an "extra" service to CollegeHumor, and most of the new content was expansive scripted shows.

Which were kinda mid if we're being honest.

But Total Forgiveness, along with Dimension 20, showed that just letting the cast be themselves and improvise makes for much better content.

This show has a deep place in my heart, please give it a watch if you haven't yet.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

University Romance

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish x fem!Reader

part four; three, two, one

!MDNI!

wc: 2.1 K

summary: You and Johnny are two professors at a university, and he often catches you working late in your office. Also, you're just really good friends and there's probably more to it.

warnings: 'crazy' chemistry professor Soap, no y/n used, Johnny and Reader are about the same age, hickeys, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: welcome to the final part of it! decided to spoil you guys a little bit with smut, I'm tired from their constant pining, so here you go. Enjoy!

The restaurant looked actually really cosy from the outside as you‘re waiting for Johnny to arrive. After not even a minute, he shows up and looks absolutely handsome. You don‘t remember the last time you‘ve seen him in more formal clothing, the formal yet casual attire brings out his well-sculpted muscles. Trying not to stare, you pretend to check your phone for any messages before he is right in front of you, tapping your shoulder with a small smile.

»You there? Please don‘t tell me you‘re gonna spend the entire time looking at your phone. You‘re gonna miss out on the view.«

What is he doing to you? Is this on purpose? Is he still standing in front of you? Judging from the way his subtle cologne still wavers in the air, he is still standing right in front of you. With a small sigh to ease your nerves, you put your phone away into your purse, mustering your eyes at him.

»Relax, I‘m not missing out on our hangout.« You answer back with a small smile and notice his expression falter for a moment at your words. He recovers quick though, and you both get inside the new restaurant, being greeted by dim lights that create a warm and cosy atmosphere around. The waiter leads you both to a table for two in a far corner, glad you can have some sort of privacy in that corner.

You were about to sit down when he gets behind you, pulling the chair out for you, doing the overly cheesy gentleman move. It forces a small chuckle out of you, trying to tell him that you can do this yourself, but he doesn‘t care. You really try not to think too much about it and just see it as a friendly way of messing with each other, but he seems completely serious about it.

Okay, you are confused. He is claiming he will pay for everything tonight, so don‘t bother taking your purse out at all. What is this about? Did he do something and is trying to cover it up by being so sweet? There‘s no way, he is doing too much.

»Sorry, did I miss something? What is this all about?«

You finally manage to ask during the dinner, the food on the table being the only thing actually calming your nerves and making it seem like a normal hangout to you.

»What? Nothing, what do you mean? I‘m just treating you tonight.«

Obviously, you don‘t buy it and tilt your head at him, making him purse his lips almost sheepishly.

»Okay, be honest, Johnny. You‘re being too sweet right now.«

Your table falls into a brief moment of silence; the background noises from the other guests eating and talking fill the silence softly.

»I‘m.. I am bad at this, but I actually tried to ask you out. Back then, at your dad after the grill. This was supposed to be a date, but I guess I didn‘t express myself correctly.«

Processing his words is difficult. He tried to ask you out, and you were too stupid to realise. This is your love life, wow. It could also very well be a very bad romcom. It‘s humiliating, really.

»We don‘t need to pretend this is a date though, I probably overstepped with being… so overbearing.«

»No! No, don‘t apologise, I should be the one to apologise. Actually, now that I think about it, I missed so many signs...«

Johnny‘s heart beats probably faster than a racing car drives as he listens to you, trying to focus on the words you say instead of focussing on how gorgeous you look in the dim light right now. Finally, he snaps back and tries to reassure you, a sheepish and dorky smile threatening to form on his face.

»It‘s totally fine, I‘m a patient man after all.« His audacity to throw a little tease into this is unmatched. But it helps to ease the tension and bring a small smile onto your face, looking down to your lap for a moment.

»So, this was a date all along?«

He nods slowly at your question, watching your reaction closely as he does so. You‘re not sure who is more nervous at the moment, feeling like a high school couple right now.

»Well, if you‘re not comfortable- «

»No, no, I‘m okay with that! Promise.«

Johnny smile brightens, and for a moment, he is unsure of what to do or say next. The silence doesn‘t last long though, as you get to talk more freely with each other once it‘s settled, feeling butterlies across your whole body the entire time. It‘s such a nice feeling to know someone you certainly cherish and care for feels the same about you and probably even more. The rest of the dinner is spent with more loving looks and soft gazes, lingering touches on each other‘s hands over the table, resulting in following him back to his home.

----

Big hands cup your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you to his bedroom, not wasting any time on exploring your soft lips with his own. He doesn‘t care that he is being a little messy with you, it feels perfect and right to be with you like this. With a soft thud, you land on the cushions of his bed, enveloping you in the faint scent of his cologne and the distinct smell of the musky but inviting smell of him. It‘s enough to get you going even more, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck to keep him as close as possible while making out. Your lips move against the other in a rather frantic rhythm, subtle sounds of lips smacking echoing in the dark room.

With a small sigh, he breaks the kiss and trails his lips down your throat; leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on your delicate skin. You loose your grip around his neck, trailing your hands down his arms, all the way to his shoulder blades. It leaves goosebumps and electrifying shockwaves through him, resulting in him groaning lowly against your neck. That, however, only caused for you to shiver lightly and attempt not to hum back in response.

His kisses trail down to your collabones, gently gracing his teeth against the sensitive skin before tugging at your collar and works on unbuttoning your shirt. Of course you let him, helping him with the process, starting to get impatient and wanting more from him. His touch is addicting, his scent is intoxicating and the way he feels against your body… you can‘t get enough.

Soon, you are both almost fully exposed, Johnny hovering over you again, and trying to keep at least a little of his sanity under control.

»Tell me, how bad do you want me?«

»Johnny, not now...« You sigh out, hands trailing up his well-built chest, sounding way more needy than you wanted to be.

»Impatient, hm? Just tell me you need me. Please.« He also sounds more desperate than you‘ve ever heard him speak, especially to you. What he demands only makes your cheeks grow even more rosy, putting on a darker tint of pink across your face. Thankfully the room is fairly dark, even though you wish you could see more of him.

»Need you, Johnny...now.«

It seems like he crumbles at your words, resting his forehead against your shoulder before he collects himself and moves down your body.

»Fuck, always wanted to hear tha‘ from you.« He mutters as he traces his hands down your bare sides, settling down between your legs and gently pries them apart. You lean up on your elbows to watch, feeling another rush of adrenaline at him being right in between your legs, feeling his hot breath against your legs and aching core.

His fingers tease at the seam of your panties, eyes focused on your whole form. The material of your panties are more than soaked after all the making out and hot touches across your body, not sure how long you will last with him like this.

Your thighs are being pushed back with his hands after discarding your last piece of clothing, laying down flat on your back for him. He wants as much access as possible on you, humming lowly at the sight of your dripping cunt. A sharp gasp leaves you as soon as his tongue meets the sweet and messy bundle of nerves, bucking your hips into him without meaning to. More gasps and pants leave you as he gets more intense, his tongue pushing and putting more pressure against you, making you a breathless mess underneath him. You grip tightly onto his sheets, thighs trembling around his head.

He seems like a madman, thirsty for any amount of slick he can slurp from you, the sounds becoming more obscene and embarrassing for you. Johnny doesn‘t mind one bit, in fact he seems to be enjoying this more than you. Finally getting to taste you, smell you, please you as he dreamed of.

His big hands tighten their grip around your thighs, making sure you don‘t clamp your legs around his head and suffocate him. Even when he would be more than happy to die that way…

It feels like you are growing closer to edge, moans getting high-pitched while one hand finds his head, urging him to keep going.

Johnny groans against you, nose nudging against your clit as his tongue works on you and brings you over the edge. With a final thrust of his tongue, you gasp and clamp around nothing, your grip around the sheets being even stronger than before. You become a babbling mess, thanking him and saying something about feeling good while you bask in the shockwaves of the climax, moaning and shaking under him.

Johnny lets you ride out your high on his tongue, probably as satisfied as you, if not more. He cleans up any cum that drips from you, making sure there is nothing left, even when he still wants to lap at you even then.

»You okay?« He asks more softly and massages your thighs gently, watching your fucked out expression as come down from your high. You can‘t respond verbally, but you give him a thumbs up, receiving an amused snort from him. He moves off from between your legs and settles on the bed beside you, brushing out some hair sticking to your forehead.

Once he lays down beside you, you realise that only you received pleasure. You want to make him feel good too.

»We can… go on. If you want.« Johnny snaps out of his stare, his hand still resting by your stomach as he traces small circles into it.

»No need to. I don‘t have any protection with me anyway.«

You‘re not sure why, but you feel slightly disappointed at his words. But that he is responsible enough and neglects his own pleasure for both of your safety is enough to warm your heart again in a strange way.

You end up falling asleep after he cleans the mess up from between your legs, cuddling up in each other‘s arms, under the comfort of his blanket. And that was probably the best sleep you‘ve ever had, safe in his warm embrace after he took such good care of you.

----

The next morning, you wake up to Johnny sleeping over your whole body, legs entangled with yours, and arms trapping you underneath him. You trail your hands up and down his back, nails lightly scratching against his bare skin, which causes him to stirr lightly.

After some longer moments, he seems to finally wake up and shift on top of you to get comfortable again.

»You are heavy.« You mumble out from underneath him, making him let out a groggy groan as he rolls off you but keeps his arm over your middle. The room is quiet again, save for the slow and gentle breathing from both of you.

»What time is it?« Johnny huffs out as you crawl over him to his nightstand, taking a look at the digital clock on it.

9:53 AM

No way. You overslept. Both, for that matter.

»John- Johnny, c‘mon, we need to get ready.«

You urge hushed, shaking his shoulder with your hand as you sit up beside him. He doesn‘t move as much though and only grumbles something under his breath before he searches his hand for you. He manages to grip your thigh gently, squeezing softly in a lazy attempt to calm you.

»Relax… no one cares anyway, and you never missed a day before.«

He mumbles softly, still laying on his stomach, but eyes on you. ----

Redcrest High University, Monday 9:53 AM

»Seems like those two won‘t appear today, huh?«

»Finally. I was getting sick just from watching Mctavish‘s puppy eyes. Good thing they are catching a break.«

Professor Garrick answers to the biology prof, earning a nod from the other. ----

Johnny‘s bed, Moday 9:54 AM

You soften at his touch and words, sighing out and finally settle down beside him once more.

»Don‘t tell me you wouldn‘t want to spend more time with me and instead go to work.« He shifts to get closer, pulling you close to his chest. His words make you shake your head, nuzzling into him in return.

»Wouldn‘t dream of it.«

You mumble back softly to him, making him smile and squeeze your waist with his arms.

a/n: I really hope you enjoyed this very small series, I didn't plan on writing some smut, but decided it would only be fair and also wanted to try out how well I can write that (it was really hard typing with one hand okay). thanks for reading!

[flwerzye]

Real Madrid pedri x gavi, he humiliates gavi after la liga win with RM

at your service, sweetie

TW:Dub-Con, Dirty Talk, Degrading, Humiliation, Rough Sex, Real Madrid Pedri, Lightly Public Sex, Bottom Gavi x Top Pedri

The Spanish team's accommodation in Germany had a slightly tense atmosphere. Not much between players, but tense between two specific players.

Gavi, FC Barcelona's golden boy, who has just recovered from injury and Pedri, Real Madrid's rising midfielder.

Pedri was loved by everyone, the media and the world of football were in his favor, being a Real Madrid player things were easier for him and that's why he was a little arrogant

Pedri never really liked Gavi, but after he won this La Liga and saw his rival's failed season, he wanted more than anything to make jokes and irritate the younger man.

Pedri didn't know but Gavi was a very sensitive boy and after the injury, he became increasingly emotional with the things people said about him and having a vote of confidence from Luis de La Fuente to play the Euros in Germany, he couldn't disappoint.

But it was difficult when every day Pedri made some annoying joke at him, making fun of his club for being a failure and having lost to him in everything. This made Gavi angry but above all he was sad, and that's why he went to the bathroom after a joke that Gavi thinks went beyond his limits, making fun of an insecurity of his, one of his biggest insecurities was too much

Gavi was in the empty bathroom, tears were coming out of his eyes and he felt so useless and alone, he hated feeling this way and wanted it all to end.

"Are you really crying?" Gavi was scared when he heard Pedri's voice, who came to him and that's why Gavi flinched. "Are you crying just because I told you the truth?" Pedri approached, loving the boy's tears

"Crying because your team is a fucking failure? Or because you were completely useless?" Pedri asked with a smile on his face, a mischievous, almost evil smile. Pedro held the face of the boy who was brave on the field but strangely didn't defend himself when Pedro insulted him and because of that Pedro easily managed to bend him over the big, chic hotel sink

"P-Pedri, what are you doing?" Gavi asked, his wrists were tied behind his back and he got more scared when he felt the older man's erection in his ass "P-Pedri, what..."

"You crying makes me so hard" Pedri said, quickly he let go of Gavi's wrists to pull down his pants. Gavi tried to escape but Pedri managed to quickly arrest him "You useless whore, you have such a beautiful body that maybe football isn't for you"

"P-Pedri let me go, please" Gavi asked, he couldn't stop crying and felt very dirty because his body reacted to what Pedri said to him "P-Pedri..."

"Shut the fuck up, if you don't stay quiet it'll be worse for you" Pedri said, squeezing Gavi's wrists tighter, and the boy shivered when he felt the tip of Pedri's dick in his hole "Relax, I'll show you that you are nothing more than a prostitute"

Pedri thrust himself in without preparing Gavi, he only used his saliva and it hurt and burned so much that Gavi screamed before Pedri shut his mouth with his hand "I told you to shut the fuck up" Pedri was angry, he thrust hard and quickly without caring about Gavi crying beneath him "That's it, I want you to just cry"

The abuse on his prostate made Gavi roll his eyes, mentally beating himself up for enjoying this, for being forced by his rival and for being fucked hard like he was nothing but a useless hole that was only good for cock. Pedri laughed when he saw Gavi's hips move, wanting to fuck himself on his rival's cock. "You bitch, addicted to cock, useless as hell who only serves to be a fucking slut. Maybe I should call them all here to fuck you too."

Gavi was crying, moaning and drooling on Pedri's hand. His body hurt from being in that uncomfortable position but Pedri definitely didn't care about that. Gavi wanted to masturbate, his dick was wetting the floor with his pre-cum, it was good and torturous at the same time

"P-Pedri" He spoke under his hand. Pedri, understanding what he wanted, held Gavi's dick and instead of stopping him, he made him cum hard. The smaller body weakened, the legs were soft like jelly and its only support was the sink and Pedri's body supporting it. Pedri came inside him, the situation was so intense that they had forgotten about protection

Pedri withdrew and adjusted his clothes before turning away from Gavi, their bodies were almost glued together and Gavi couldn't stop crying. Pedri smiled, kissed Gavi's cheek and licked a tear that fell from his face and fell onto his soft cheek "I told you you were a whore, if you want to feel useful again just go to my room"

[yuesya]

Sorry if you've answered this already but what's Ayase's relationship with Ayaka/Ayato like?

Ayase had always been quiet and reserved.

… Perhaps it was only natural. His older sister had been born with a frail constitution, one that resulted in her being secluded and withdrawn from the rest of the world for the sake of her own health. In his childhood, Ayato remembers his parents gently telling him to be mindful of her body and her wellbeing. To make sure not to disturb Ayase. It’s important for Ayase to rest properly, and not overexert herself.

Ayato does as his parents bid him. He hopes that the medicines are working, and he prays that his sister’s body will recover fully one day.

Perhaps it’s due to the isolation, but his sister is… difficult to interact with, in the beginning. Sometimes, the way she looks at Ayato –it’s like her gaze slides right over him. And it’s…

It’s…

…

There’s a vivid image that he remembers, even now: Ayase sitting on the engawa, wearing nothing more than a threadbare yukata despite the chill of the autumn wind. Pale white hair cascades down her back, long strands thrown up into the air by the passing wind, and she turns around at the call of her name–

His sister had looked at him, and her gaze had been detached, empty. Ayato hadn’t recognized it at the time, but it had sent a distinct chill down his back nonetheless.

… Things change, as the seasons pass. Ayato persists in visiting his sister as often as he can, and eventually Ayase loses the distant look in her eyes. One day, Ayase stands up and starts walking around the house like a perfectly normal person, as if she hadn’t been bedridden for years–

Their mother had burst into tears that day, clutching at Ayase. Ayase had looked at her with a faintly befuddled look, as if she didn’t understand what was happening. Then, slowly reached out to return their mother’s warm embrace.

Ayaka doesn’t remember a period of time when her sister was a distant, detached figure in their family. But Ayato does. So when a glimmer of that same something returns to her eyes as she stands before the downed form of their uncle, blade raised high in her hand–

She’ll really do it, Ayato realizes, before anyone else in the room catches on to what’s about to happen. Their uncle is still seething, too focused on his own anger and humiliation at his defeat to notice anything amiss. The onlookers are still stunned by Ayase’s victory, the unexpected triumph of a delicate seventeen year old girl over her uncle more than two decades her senior in a trial by combat. None of them see it–!

Which is why it falls to Ayato to do something, here and now before Ayase kills their uncle in cold blood front of the entire Kamisato Clan. Ayato shoots to his feet before he even realizes it, his body moving instinctively before his mind catches up with his body.

“Sister!”

Ayase tilts her head, a clear indication that she’s listening to him despite the fact that she hasn’t turned to look at him.

Good.

“Sister,” Ayato continues, more calmly now that he knows he has her attention. “Our uncle challenged your right to headship of the clan in a trial by combat, and lost. You’ve proven your strength.”

An overwhelming victory. So you don’t need to kill him.

“It’s not enough,” his sister says. Ayase’s voice is calm, indifferent.

… Ayato needs to change her mind. Because their uncle might be an opportunistic schemer, but he still plays an important role in the Kamisato Clan. And right now, with the death of their parents and the pressure that their clan is facing from external forces, they really don’t need to add internal issues to the situation. Such issues would most definitely arise, if Ayase killed their uncle.

“But it will suffice,” Ayato tells her. Then, “Please.”

Please listen to me.

You are head of the Kamisato Clan, now. Ayase, please…

For a moment, his sister is silent.

Then, she lifts her blade from where it’s pointed at their uncle, and finally turns away. But their uncle takes this as opportunity, his hands closing around his own sword as he raises it and lunges at her back–!

“Sister!”

A deafening thunderclap resounds through the room, like a lightning strike –no, there is lightning. Coils of electric energy dance over the wooden flooring in wild, erratic arcs, and Ayato forces himself to look despite the blinding light, heart heavy in his throat–

Their uncle lies on the ground in eight different pieces, and Ayase’s sword is red with blood. Lightning crackles around his sister, and there is a glowing purple orb that floats atop her hand.

A Vision.

[rickybaby]

"I was definitely optimistic coming into the race. I knew where we've been suffering this weekend. I knew the start would be difficult, but then once everything start to settle, I felt we would be able to get into a rhythm and show a little more pace, but wasn't the case. With the restarts as well, we suffered so much more than the others with warm-up. I was getting overtaken on the outside of turn 3 and the outside is very slippery, and for them to have more grip on the outside, I was just like oh man. It was pretty humiliating.

We need to find out the reason for that because that's what obviously held us back. A bit of painful weekend.

[Abu Dhabi] is a more medium downforce circuit, so optimistic coming into that weekend. For now, its just about resting recovering for the next two days and get out to some warmth. Even if I had a good result tonight, you wouldn't see me out clubbing. We're all pretty knackered."

[bonniebird]

Isabelle Lightwood x Fem!Reader

Requested by Anon

Make a request

Request: Anonymous asked: Could I please have an imagine where the reader is the younger half-sister (warlock) of Magnus Bane and when she meets Isabelle Lightwood she is obviously smitten (as is Isabelle). Alec and Magnus then try to play matchmaker for their sisters?

Read on Wattpad

Read on AO3

“Hurry!” Izzy yelled and turned around. Grabbing your hand she pulled you up a ledge and away from the demon that was chasing you. Jace emerged from the shadows and cornered it while Magnus came from another direction. Once it was dealt with, Izzy led the way out of the building and up onto the rooftops.

You stumbled out of the building and took a deep breath as you followed her. The tops of the buildings caught the wind and it allowed you to slowly take in cold air and calm yourself. “Not used to this kind of fun?” “Fun!” You snapped and looked at Izzy who winked at you. Clearing your throat you recovered yourself and gave a flirty smile. “I have more fun to attend to elsewhere.” Snapping your fingers you vanished. Izzy smiled to herself until she spotted Magnus watching her. Turning away she started to walk off not liking the knowing look that your brother was giving her. “I think it’s time for a push.” Magnus said. Alec groaned and glanced at Magnus who was watching Jace hurry after Izzy. “No. Don’t push them. It’ll just make Izzy difficult.” Alec pleaded. Magnus smiled as he vanished the same way you had and was gone from view. Alec groaned knowing that the next few weeks were going to be rather dramatic. At least on his sister's part.

************

“What are we going to do?” Magnus said. You had been walking through Pandemonium looking for something to do as you sipped a colourful drink in your hand. “Do about what?” You asked and he smiled. “Your infatuation with the shadowhunter." He started to walk away and you quickly followed him. "What are you talking about?" You asked sharply and frowned at him. "I see it all you know. The sly glances, the way you smile to yourself and the lack of lovers all of a sudden. It's pretty obvious. Just because they miss the signs doesn't mean that I do." He was satisfied with what he said until you shrugged dismissively. Deciding that it wouldn't do to just push you towards Izzy, Magnus left you alone for the rest of the evening. He called Alex early the next day and welcomed him into his living room. "What're you planning, Magnus?" He asked when he saw the look on the warlock's face. "Why must everyone insist I am always up to something?" Magnus grumbled. "Well. Are you?" Alec asked. He smiled when Magnus' face fell. "Yes. But that's beside the point. What are we going to do about our respective sisters?" Magnus asked. Alec stared at him for a moment and huffed. “Nothing. I’m not going to get in between the two of them.” Alec said quickly. Magnus chuckled and gestured for Alec to sit with him. “They won't like us meddling.” “Who says they have to know?” Magnus asked and produced a small bottle of silvery blue liquid from thin air. “I’m not using any kind of potion or magic.” Alec said reluctantly. “All it is is a truth potion. One drop each and for the next few seconds, they will be helpless to say anything other than what they truly want to say. We could even make sure that it’s just the two of them together.” Magnus offered. Alec stared at the bottle. All his sister talked about was you. Which was fine at first but frankly he had begun to wonder if he had ever been so infuriating when he used to talk about Jace, before meeting Magnus. “Fine. But only if it’s just the two of them alone. I won't let them be humiliated.” Alec said. He pointed a finger at Magnus and found, deep down, he assumed Magnus wouldn’t mind embarrassing you a little. They put the plan into motion at the weekend. Inviting you over for dinner and hoping that the two of you might happen to confess your feelings before they got the potion part of the plan. “They’re just awkwardly looking at each other over the table.” Alec whispered loudly to Magnus who tutted and joined him at the kitchen door, peeking through and watching the pair of you. “Oh. they are.” He muttered. Alec frowned and glanced at Magnus. “Did you think I was joking?” Alec asked and Magnus pulled him away when Izzy spotted the pair of them watching. “No. I was just hoping there was something telepathic going on but nothing. We have no choice but the potion.” Magnus said as he headed over to the drinks he’d been making. Alec helped him measure out the drops into the drinks. “Thirty seconds. That’s all and it wears off. Any longer than that and I feel rude.” “Rude doesn’t quite describe it.” Alec said mostly to himself and followed Magnus out with their drinks. The two of you happily took them and drank while talking. You started to feel strangely warm and relaxed. When you realised what Magnus had done it was too late to do anything about it. “I was wondering how you felt about Izzy.” Magnus said before you could argue with him and waste the time you had under the effects of the drink. “I-I like her.” You said before you could think of a way to stop your body from betraying you. You glared at your brother while Izzy’s eyes widened. “Oh good because I like you too.” Izzy said quickly. The potion wore off before anyone else could say anything. “I. Don’t know what just happened.” Izzy said. Then she started to look upset and stormed off. Alec hurried after her. “That was a cruel thing to do!” You snapped at Magnus. He gestured as if he agreed and then shrugged. “Perhaps. But these mortals don’t live long and you might as well have a great love instead of pining and moping around here. You bring the mood down.” Magnus said quickly. He knew it would make you angry and that you’d go after Izzy.

“Why would you do that to me Alec?” Izzy asked. He sighed and scratched at his chin nervously as she hurried to the door. “I just wanted to help.” He said lamely. She turned back, planning on yelling but saw you behind him. “Help.” You said coldly. Alec jumped and turned, looking guilty and then retreated back into the apartment. You stayed with Izzy who was rooted to the spot. “Perhaps we should start over. Without a spell.” You offered. Izzy nodded and smiled. “I do like you.” she said with a flirty smile. “I like you too.” You answered. “We gathered that!” Magnus yelled from inside. “Why don’t we go somewhere without these two?” You offered and Izzy agreed, happily following you out into the street. “I hope them being mad at us was worth it.” Alec said once you’d both left. Magnus tutted and sipped his drink. “(Y/N) only holds grudges for a few hundred years, we’ll be fine.” He said casually. Alec gave him a withering look before nursing his own drink.

Izzy tags:

@gillybear17 @ravennoore14 @the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn @geekyandgay98 @savagemickey03 @evattude @kaitieskidmore1 @darklyndivinely @sashawalker2

[simplynotcapable]

i’ve had someone counter my “aegon loves his brother” argument with a reminder about aegon arranging the whore when aemond is thirteen, and i am SO GLAD you brought this up and let me explain why i think this proves my point even more

first, as a preface: aemond was, inarguably, assaulted. i’ve seen people who theorize he was forced, i’ve seen people who think aegon convinced him, i’ve seen people argue that he probably just went along to look cool to his big brother. that’s irrelevant. he was a thirteen year old child, the whore was a grown woman, it was arranged by his older brother who should have been protecting him. he was a child. this was assault. aegon is 100% in the wrong here, what he did to his brother is horrific and twisted.

now, moving on: i do not think aegon did this to aemond with any intention of malice. i do not think he considers what he did wrong, i do not think he saw it as a prank (not in the same way the pink dread was, anyway) or a cruelty.

i think it’s more proof that aegon has a twisted relationship with love and so, in trying to show his love, it comes out cruel.

now, aemond loses his eye at ten in the book. in the show, it’s a little more ambiguous? we don’t have numbers really, so it’s difficult to say. but if we’re going off leo ashton’s age and the appearances of the characters, aemond is around 12-13 when he loses his eye.

you could argue the brothel happened BEFORE driftmark, but based off aegon and aemond’s interactions at the funeral and the prostitute’s lack of reaction to aemond’s missing eye, i would definitely say it happened afterwards.

which means, when aegon takes aemond to the brothel, he has just freshly lost his eye.

aegon takes his freshly mutilated baby brother into the depths of the city and buys him a night with a whore, though aemond is a child and (we can assume from the severity of his reaction when seeing her again) was not fucking on board with this plan at all. he says “time to get it wet”, which can easily be read as a mocking “lol ur a virgin” type insult.

that is not how i see it, and i do not think that’s how aegon sees it (unless we ever see him address this i doubt we’ll ever know, so granted this is also mostly my interpretation of his character)

aegon turned to debauchery at a very young age to escape his world: the pressure from his mother, the fear of rhaenyra, the lack of control over his own life, his absent father. his coping mechanism for everything bad in his life is pumping himself full of alcohol and engaging in risky sexual behaviors.

aemond just had his eye torn out by boys that he and aegon have been raised to believe are bastards whose mother will have them killed. they watched their mother go apeshit, and they watched their father not punish luke. rhaenyra called for aemond to be tortured. aemond is never going to get his eye back and recovering from losing an eye is HELL.

and so aegon sees all these terrible things and offers aemond a coping mechanism. his coping mechnism. “this terrible thing happened to you, and i avoid terrible things with this, so here. here, you can use this, too. here, it doesn’t take it away but you forget it for awhile. here, here, here, look, see, isn’t this better than letting yourself feel it?”

now, none of this is to say it didn’t BECOME one of aegon’s intentional cruelties once they got there. i’m sure if aemond let himself be visibly uncomfortable or tried to argue, aegon very quickly fell back into bullying asshole mode—maybe even worse than usual because he feels aemond is slighting him. but i don’t think any of it was initially rooted in a desire to hurt aemond or humiliate him in any way.

aegon was a little boy who grew up too quickly in some ways and never grew up at all in others, and he tried to drag aemond down that same path because he truly, genuinely sees nothing wrong with the choices he’s made and who he’s become. he started having sex and drinking at a young age, why shouldn’t aemond do the same? it makes him feel better, so why wouldn’t it help aemond?

aegon loves his brother. i think he did this BECAUSE he loves his brother.

i just also think that aegon’s idea of love is so warped that the consequences of him trying to show it are almost always disastrous, and he doesn’t seem to think of how his actions will endanger those around him.

case in point: his little brother being deeply affected/traumatized by an assault that he is not likely to ever truly get over—but aemond’s feelings about this entire thing and how i genuinely believe it’s the partial cause of his later proclivities is an entirely separate conversation.

[all-things-ghostly]

I was joking about how people in some cartoons stop villains by singing songs and I thought “well is there actually a passive way to defeat a villain?” And thought of this. So take a spontaneous silly little short drabble on me :)

“I’ve got you now, little mortal.”

You were fast, but unfortunately, Alistair was faster. In a flash you went from running down what felt like a seemingly endless hallway to being thrown up against the wall by the dark spirit. As he loomed over you, you could feel his claws digging into your shoulders through his gloves.

“You put up a good fight, I’ll say. Well, not really. But I at least want you to die with just a little bit of your dignity left,” he chuckles cruelly at his own little joke and then tightens his grip on you.

This is it. In a last ditch attempt to save yourself, you wave your arms out in front of you like you’re trying to hit or scratch him or… something, but the way he’s holding you makes it difficult to do much of anything. It’s honestly pathetic and the most you can do is barely brush against his ribs.

But somehow… that works?

Immediately Alistair flinches and freezes up like he just got hit with an electric shock. It provides enough time for you to wiggle free and scamper off a solid distance away.

“Don’t… don’t do that!” He shouts in a voice that almost sounds like it’s a little on the edge of flustered. Finding himself even angrier, Alistair starts stomping over to you again. But once he gets close you just swipe at that same spot once more. “I SAID STOP!”

Okay, now this is just getting confusing. You find that every time you touch him there, he freaks out. Eventually he just flat out stumbles over onto the floor and you take the opportunity to hold him down before he tries anything else.

You see the panicked look in his yellow eyes as your hands rest on his stomach, and then it all becomes clear…

He’s… ticklish?

You raise an eyebrow and start gently wiggling your fingers across his torso to prove your point. You start at the center of his belly and skitter around, trying to find all of his worst spots. Which honestly seems to just be everywhere.

“YOU CUT THAT OUT!” Alistair shouts, trying to push you off, but cannot since he’s too busy focusing all his energy on not laughing. His ego would never fully recover.

That effort fails as soon as you touch his ribs again, though. Alistair starts giggling uncontrollably in that supposed-to-be-creepy-but-is-honestly-just-goofy way of his and starts wriggling around a little, feeling very ashamed. He even goes so far as to take his hat off his head and hold it over his face so you can’t see him smiling. It’s honestly a little… cute? Which is not something you thought you’d be saying about someone who just tried to kill you two minutes ago, but oh well.

When you start using more pressure and make your tickles a little rougher, those giggles just turn into flat out hysterical cackling that makes his whole body shake. It’s safe to say that this was a very unexpected turn of events, but who are you to complain? You’re still alive, aren’t you?

After you rake your nails up and down his sides a couple of times he can’t take it anymore and fumbles around to grab your wrists.

“Okay! Stop! Just… stop,” he says, and you can hear him struggling for breath. He puts his hat back on and sits up, panting heavily.

“Listen to me. This is extremely humiliating and I cannot have anyone finding out about this. So…” he pauses to sigh dramatically, looking defeated. “I’ll let you go if you swear not to tell another soul that this happened, alright? We’ll just forget you ever came here at all, yada yada yada, all of that mess. Just… don’t tell anyone.”

That was easier than expected. Rushing to get back up on your feet, you look back down at the ghost who looks like he’s seriously regretting his existence.

“Uh… thanks,” you awkwardly wave goodbye.

“Whatever, just keep your mouth shut and skedaddle.”

(Yeah I know he’d probably punt someone before this could ever happen. But just suspend your disbelief for the sake of the silly cuteness, okay?)

[alexanders-pokemon-adventure]

Foster island summer camp

Arrival

I should have teleported was all Alex could think as they limped off the boat to foster island. The many hours plane ride hadn’t been that bad from the Endless mountain region to the Hoenn . It was mostly sitting but… there had been more… walking than they had anticipated even with the taxi to the docks. Alex had not thought about how difficult and tiring it would be every time they stood to stay upright on the ever shifting ship. Since waking from their coma, there had been a heaviness to their body that Alexander had been unable to shake, even knowing that they had actually lost weight during there more than a month long slumber. Alex has started to become agitated by their bodies. Lack of ability to keep up with them. Even after all these weeks it felt to them they had not recovered as quickly as they hoped. Beyond Alexander‘s body, they had started to become agitated by how much help they needed and the constant mother Henning of their family and friends. So when the most diligent of Alexander’s loved ones, Derek had needed to return to Unova for two weeks to deal with work in their own life and Pokémon Alexander hatch a plan. Convince Derek that they would stay with their sister while they were gone all while in reality Alexander planned a trip to Foster Island. Logically they appreciated all the help that their friends and loved ones gave them but they hoped for a a few days were people were not poking and prodding at them. So Alex paid the sitter they usually hired to watch their house and the majority of their Pokémon and drove to the airport the same day Derek left.

The indignant and prideful part of Alexander did not want to admit the possibility that they had made a mistake. Two hours after arriving on Foster Island, they still sat on a wooden bench on the dock, unable to muster the strength to walk the path to the main building. They had not anticipated how much of the heat and humidity would have affected them, sapping more of their strength. Their claydol, Juegette drifted in the air above them, casting a shadow over Alexander and Nimbus their Castform in their hail form circled them in particles of snow, both Pokémon trying to alleviate their trainers discomfort. it was appreciated.

A part of Alexander was glad that the class they had agreed to teach for the summer camp did not start the first day if they ever managed to make it to their room, the rest of the day would be a sitting day. Alex was glad the ranger panel. They agreed to be a part of head seats.

As Alexander consider the humiliation of maybe having Juegette carry them to the main building when Alex saw two familiar figures approaching, and immediately told his Pokémon to knock it off. As a Nimbus settled in Alexander‘s lap, and juegette many eyes looked in many directions. Lynn fallowed by Ellisa( @adventures-on-foster-island ) reached them. The greetings began quickly and so did the questions. Why were you still at the dock? Why are you still here? How are you feeling? Alexander knew that Lynn and Ellisa saw the cane Alexander had it taken to carrying, knew they saw how bad they had blocked only a few short weeks ago and did their best to put them at ease.

With a grandiose jester, Alexander spread their arms wide towards the ocean and the skyline, and said in the voice more jovial, then Alex felt” you don’t gets view like this from the Endless Mountains, forgive me for indulging, perhaps a bit longer than I should have” they made their aching, heavy, stiff body rise from the bench, refusing to allow it to buckle or flinch in front of their friends” I do think I need to get ready for that ranger panel” Alex gesture down the path” walk with me?” They said grinning and made their body move

[xviiper-rents-houses]

Chapter One. Metallic blood.

(Name) was already wide awake by the time the aircraft reached its destination. Startled awake by the hooded man in question.

He had merely tapped (Name) on the shoulder. That had been enough to shoot (pronoun) out of (pronoun) loose sleep.

The hooded man stumbled back in surprise, eyes widened. His hand shot up, almost to grab at his heart.

But, he quickly shot it down; perhaps self conscious about appearing "weak." (Name) stood up awkwardly, looking up at the male.

Glaciers found in the Antarctic seemed to swirl about inside, with captivating beauty. The sniper's hood provided darkness over them, almost haunting.

The stranger quirked his head to the right, signalling for (Name) to group up with the others. He followed behind (pronoun), frame hunched forward.

(Name)'s heart thundered with anticipation as the captain called out the close arrival to the location. Guns' safety were checked and any last mess was cleaned up.

When the hangar door creaked open, it was expected for the soldiers to jump out almost immediately. (Name) fastened (pronoun) gloved hands to the hanging rope and propelled downward.

The night sky was dark and foreboding. Swallowing a lump in (pronoun) throat,(Name) would watch the task force captain hand out orders.

(Pronoun) stood rigid in the group, placing input when needed. Once given instructions, (Name) was left to work with the icy-eyed man now known as König.

(Name) wasn't sure if he liked the idea of working with (pronoun). Maybe a friendly wave could help ease tensions? (Name) directed (pronoun) hand through the air, trying (pronoun) best to be inviting.

König simply blinked, staring down at (Name). It was awkward. “(Your response, ignore if you do not say anything).”Slowly, however, with index and middle finger pressed together, König returned the gesture in a small movement.

He walked forward, looking over his shoulder to be sure (Name) followed. Both disappeared into the hedge, swallowed by the grass blades.

A brisk pace would have to be made for a chance to set a plan. König crouched down in the grass, (Name) doing the same.

(Pronoun) pulled out (pronoun) binoculars. About ten yards was a base target. (Name) and König were tasked with removing assailents from the outside for safe access to the inside.

König waved for (Name) to follow him. (Pronoun) let out a brief sigh, trying to calm (pronoun) nerves.

It had come to (Name)'s attention that König used waves and points to direct what he wanted (pronoun) to do.

Albeit it was difficult to see what he was trying to communicate at times, (Name) would do (pronoun) absolute best. It poured rain in the area, soaking through (Name)'s clothes.

In the low light, (Name) could see König’s muscles well defined in detail. (Pronoun) did the best (pronoun) could to avoid looking at his immaculate physique.

Ahead, was a building. Multiple guards surrounding it. There was no doubt that there would have to be a fight to get inside.

(Name) swallowed a growing lump in (pronoun) throat. König made the first move. (Name) had no choice but to follow.

The terror ensued. Seeing a horde of soldiers easily overcome by one man alone. Precise punches and excellent lacerations made quick work of the enemy.

The exploding sound of guns filled the night. Fear choked (Name)'s throat. (Pronoun) felt horrible.

(Name) felt even worse when (pronoun) could only take out a few guards. One had approached (Name) and had managed to get the upper hand on (pronoun).

Fighting like a lion, (Name) felt humiliated when König had to stop what he was doing to simply snap the opponent’s neck right in front of (pronoun).

It was a silent warning. Get a hold of yourself and stay out of my way if you can’t pull your own weight. With a brief “thank you,” (Name) recovered quickly and followed König.

(Name) snatched one last glance at the dead body. With the targets neutralised, (Name) felt like now (pronoun) could finally do something right and be helpful.

Breathing a sigh of short relief, (Name) approached the door and began (pronoun) work on undoing the lock. There was no chance of a silent entrance anymore.

The heavy breathing over (Name)’s shoulder only made (pronoun) anxiety even worse. König stood impatiently, his bloodlust not quenched.

Gunshots resounded inside of the building, reminding König how much he was missing out on.

(Name) felt even worse now. Another screw up. (Pronoun) hands clammed with sweat induced nerves. König balled his fists, pulling in a breath and reaching for his gun.

He prepared to go inside. (Name) squinted (pronoun) eyes at a certain cranny in the lock. “Faster,” König demanded.

(Name) panicked, finally undoing the lock clumsily and jumping aside as the bulking soldier practically shoved past (pronoun).

(Name) was certain he had gotten very irritated with (pronoun). (Name) could only watch as the seasoned soldier moved smartly though the surroundings.

(Name) entered the building slowly and carefully, eyes flitting around the surroundings. It was damp and cold.

The air smelled musty. (Name)’s eyes watered at the stench in the building and how quick everything was happening.

Ahead, (Name) heard the groaning of a chair. Curiosity piqued, (Name) did a quick check of (pronoun) surroundings and proceeded forward.

In the chair, was a rather beaten up and gagged male. (Name) approached and snapped (pronoun) fingers in front of his face.

Bleary, tear-filled eyes gazed back at the shocked (ethnicity) (gender preference/orientation). His head lulled forward and (Name) had to catch him.

(Name) pulled (pronoun) blade out and cut the bonds. (Pronoun) kept sharp ears on (pronoun) surroundings, worrying about being attacked without warning.

(Name) managed to help the sickly male up by forcing much of his weight on (pronoun). The two sauntered over to a sheltered area, (Name) pulling out what (pronoun) had to help clean up some of the wounds.

Having a medical background was something (Name) was not the most proud of. (Pronoun) could have been anything else in life. It was both a blessing and a curse.

To save lives was something important to any human. But, the toll it took on the mind was the curse. Especially peer judgement. Sharp and cruel words said to jab at the worker themself.

Then the expectation to please everyone with your handiwork. To be the servant. (Pronoun) never wanted that stress. Yes, (Name) wanted to help people in (pronoun) life.

But, sometimes, (Name) wished (pronoun) did not have the gifts that (pronoun) had. A few stray gunshots zoomed by (Name’s) head, casting a wave of sharp wind.

Wide (eye preference) optics gawked at the shining, swiftly spinning silver whizzing right on by. Everything moved in slow motion.

(Name) brought a shaking hand to (pronoun) cheek, gulping. Bright, red blood trickled glistened in the low lit room.

A tight grip of the stranger snapped (Name) out of (pronoun) thoughts. (Pronoun) pulled the man backward into (pronoun) chest, holding the significantly malnourished male in (pronoun) arms.

(Name) looked around wildly. A yell in the distance caught (Name)’s adrenaline heightened senses. (Name) began to question parts of (pronoun) sanity when (pronoun) saw König hit the ground hard.

(Name) leaned the hostage against a crate and made the move to help König. A gust of wind and a blast cracked in the night.

König convulsed, limbs flailing as he let out a cry. Crashing on top of him was assumed to be his assailant. Without thinking to use (pronoun) gun, (Name) launched (pronoun)self forward, barrelling into the opponent.

“Wretched whore-” (Name) threw a punch without warning, reeling (pronoun) non-dominant hand back for another.

The foe caught it, smirking. With a buck of his hips and a kick in the stomach, the adversary launched (Name) into the air, swinging (pronoun) to land on (pronoun) back.

(Name) yelped, coughing and out of breath. Quickly, (Name) pulled out (pronoun) knife. Blood splattered through the air and sprayed (Name).

Running out of fresh air, (Name) choked on the flood of gushing lifeline. (Name) rolled over, twisting the knife cruelly in the divot of the opponent’s throat.

(Name) wiped off (pronoun) face, coughing harshly. He was dead. (Name) stood up, staggering. (Pronoun) took deep ragged breaths.

“ (Call name), do you copy?” (Name) blinked, trying to grasp a handle of the situation (pronoun) was in.

Glinting in the distance was the rest of (Name)’s team, guns raised and moving about. Inspecting each corner and making their way to the trio.

(Pronoun) looked to the malnourished male laid against the wall. Bending down to do a quick inspection, (Name) breathed a sigh of relief to see him still alive.

(Name) stayed low to the ground, eyes flitting around. “ (Call name), do you copy?” Spurred into a reaction, (Name) pulled out (pronoun) communicator and replied.

Exasperated, (Name) caught (pronoun) breath as (pronoun) spoke. “Yes, yes I copy. Two of our own are down near the front entrance, waiting for arrival,” (Name) answered.

Looking down at the puddle of blood around (pronoun), (Name) took a deep breath and prepared to check over König.

(Name) watched as other members of (pronoun) task force moved to assist the hostage (pronoun) had leaned against the crate.

“König, are you with us?” (Name) asked as (pronoun) looked down at the winded male. He lifted his arm, groaning in pain.

With a quick movement, (Name) gently pushed his arm down. “Tell me where you were shot, and just stay still.”

“Right arm,” König obliged, groaning as he closed his eyes. Nodding in recognition, (Name) fished into (pronoun) bag to pull out a rope.

From (pronoun) surroundings, (Name) grabbed a stick. König watched (Name)’s every movement, eyes wide behind the veil of his sniper’s hood.

(Name) worked to create a makeshift tourniquet. (Pronoun) turned to König, making direct eye contact. König’s spectacles shifted away in what could be seen as shyness.

“You’re going to feel a tight pressure on your shoulder. I’m twisting this until it’s tight enough to cut off blood. You won’t lose anymore when I do this,” (Name) formally explained.

König’s cold eyes flashed into (Name)’s own doubt and curiosity flashing in them. (Name) offered a small smile, looking to (pronoun) work.

(Name) began (pronoun) work with the tool, cutting off the blood. A light hiss was heard as (Name) tightened the rope around his shoulder.

(Name) looked up to see other teammates approaching to help (pronoun) with lifting the mass of a man. (Name) gladly accepted, moving after with a quick pace.

Everyone got on the ship with a successful mission. (Name) moved to (pronoun) original corner in which (pronoun) sat in at the start of the mission.

(Pronoun) looked at the others sitting in their seats. (Name) blinked. With efficacious thoughts running in (pronoun) mind, (Name) tried to relax. The low hum, the scent of sweat and dried blood in the air.

What a wonderful end to (pronoun) day.

[neonbrutalism]

Spider-Gabe write up...

Mostly for ref since I don't think I'll ever be writing a whole fic of this.

So the first year of Spider-Man is going great for Gabriel. He has a difficult relationship with his mother and his brother, Miguel, is weird and distant since he started working at Alchemax as the head of the bio-engineering genetics lab. However, after spending the last 12 months running circles around Alchemax and the Public Eye, somebody new is put in charge of catching Spider-Man - Dr. Miguel O'Hara, under the orders of Tyler Stone.

Miguel, being much smarter than most of the morons at Alchemax who were trying to catch Spider-Man gets a lot closer, but ultimately keeps getting foiled and occasionally humiliated by Spider-Man. His brother, Gabriel, keeps trying to talk him into leaving Alchemax and lecturing him about it, which doesn't really convince Miguel so much as annoy him and further drive a wedge between them.

And Spider-Man is even more annoying and all the quips and jokes from this Creamsicle-Suit Asshole are started to make Miguel kinda twitchy and lose sleep from the stress - After enough failures, the board gives Miguel an ultimatum to "motivate" him - either you catch Spider-Man or we're turning YOU over to the genetic experiments team as a test subject, because if you're not useful to us like this, you'll be useful in another way. So his options are "catch Spider-Man" or "Become a brainwashed mutate thrall to Alchemax" or "Get turned into a pile of goo if the mutation experiment fails".

And so, with his life on the line and having nothing else left because he's not talking to his brother and his fiancee left him over his increasing obsession with catching Spider-Man, Miguel becomes even more erratic and violent in his methods to catch Spider-Man finally culminating in some incident that leads to the destruction of somewhere downtown.

When he's dragged before the Alchemax board, even Tyler Stone can't talk them out of the punishment and they let Aaron Delgado and his goons drag Miguel away.

Then blah blah lab explosion, talons, fangs, red eyes, you know. Miguel jumps from the building and doesn't catch himself. He has lost everything, his family, his livelihood and his basic humanity.

Gabriel takes it hard. He blames himself for not being able to save his brother, for not being able to talk him into leaving Alchemax, for not telling him that he was Spider-Man and for taunting and humiliating Miguel for fun every step of the way, because it definitely didn't help his sanity.

Gabriel has no idea his brother survived.

Miguel awakens downtown, disgusted to have awaken as a monster. He stumbles around downtown and, finally being confronted with what Alchemax has done to the people here and the consequences of his own actions, he stays to wreak havoc on Alchemax and drive their presence out of Downtown entirely. They wanted a Corporate Raider? Well they fucking got one.

Gabriel never really recovers from losing his brother. He inherits Miguel's apartment and LYLA, since Miguel was in good enough standing as an employee at the time of his "death" to be able to will his living space to a non-Alchemax employee.

With LYLA, Gabriel builds a device to allow multiversal travel. At some point, he finds a universe where he CAN save Miguel - he finds that this universe's Gabriel died some time ago and so, (explaining the situation with some wild lie) stays with him and his daughter and it's all great. Until it isn't.

He couldn't save his brother.