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#(and it's maybe not when she first comes back. it's maybe not for a long time.)
saetoru · 1 day
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。YEARS LATER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy au!)
contents. you and your rich husband, sitting and eating sushi years later on your wedding day. the end of one chapter, but the start of a new one. enjoy your happy rich boy gojo ending. with love, tee bee <3
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satoru’s eyes are pretty when the sun sets, almost green instead of that usual icy blue—you can’t help but stare. it’s shamelessly, even. you watch as he brings the sushi to his lips, pausing just before he can take the bite as he notices your eyes on him.
“if you’re so busy staring at me, you might not notice it when your food is gone,” he hums, grinning cheekily at you.
you snort, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “oh yeah? then i’ll just make you buy me more.”
“first day and you’re already admitting to marrying me for my wallet?”
you laugh—it’s a free, bright sound that he has memorized from plenty of experience. and it’s his turn to stare as the sun settles in the crinkles by your eyes, years and years of laughter and smiles evident in the lines of your skin. beautiful, he think, you’ve always been so, so painfully beautiful.
your wedding dress is expensive. a pretty, flattering little thing. you buy it yourself, despite his protests. some years ago, you’d have stared wistfully at the price tag and considered the purchase in another life. you’ve come a long way since then—satoru is proud. so proud, he feels an ache building in his chest from the way things have changed as time crept past the two of you.
not a bad ache, perhaps. a dull throb of nostalgia that settles under his heart, in that spot he has saved just for you.
“i don’t need your wallet, you idiot,” you grin, reaching over with your chopsticks to steal from his roll. he lets you, just like he always used to when you were younger.
satoru thinks now, if he could, he’d love to pat his younger self on the back. the version of himself that used to watch you walk out of class without sparing him a glance, the version of himself that ached so badly for a chance with you, he’d collect stars from the sky to trade for an ounce of your love. he’d tell his younger self that he made it—that he’s sitting here, years later with his grandmother’s ring on your hand, eating sushi go after your wedding.
for old times sake, you’d told him when you asked to stop by, we always celebrated with sushi go when we were younger, remember?
as if he’d forget, he wanted to laugh. but he drives over anyway, parking the car in the same old spot as he used to. this time, there’s newly wed! written on the back of the window—and the words miraculously enough crossed out underneath. (he thinks that’s courtesy of shoko, but she doesn’t fess up, and suguru insists it doesn’t matter. soon enough, he’ll get to the bottom of it.)
“are you sure?” he hums, “you’ll have a lot of fun with it, i promise.”
“i think i’d rather have fun with you,” you hum, giving him a small wink as you take a sip from your soda, making his lips curl into a wide grin.
“oh, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls, “i’m a lucky guy.”
“maybe if you’re on your best behavior, you’ll get extra lucky later tonight.”
“yeah?” he chuckles, folding his hands as he sits up straighter and nods seriously, “i’m a good boy.”
“you’re anything but that, toru,” you snort. and then you soften, staring at him as you reach over and grab his hand. he lets you, lacing his fingers with yours as your thumb brushes over his knuckles.
years and years worth of love resides in between your skin. the first time your hands touched him, you didn’t want him the way he needed you to. then one day, they touched him hesitantly, carefully, slowly exploring him with cautious gentleness. eventually they touched him like he was the world pressed in your palms, heavy with the weight of being your everything.
he likes being yours. more than he likes you being his—he’s always had more than enough. but there’s something about giving himself that feels better than taking, better than wanting, better than having.
satoru has always loved you. he thinks the first day you glared at him, he was doomed from the start. he thinks right now, as you stare at him with fondness, he’s even more doomed now.
he doesn’t mind it, not even a little.
“hey,” he murmurs, making you raise a brow for him to continue, “i’m your husband now.”
“i know,” you nod in amusement, “we just got married…like two hours ago. i didn’t forget that quickly.”
“good,” he wipes his forehead in faux relief, “i was getting worried for a second.”
“you’re too much,” you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand delicately.
“now that we’re officially married,” he starts, grinning cheekily as he bats his lashes, “we should list all the things we love about each other. in alphabetic order. you go first, of course.”
“i don’t have to alphabetize it.”
“why? you numbered it or something? is it organized by importance? i’ll accept that too, i suppose.”
“well, there’s only one thing,” you tease.
he huffs, grumbling a petulant, “so mean. all these years and you can only think of one thing? can’t you be a little nice to me in our wedding day?”
“i’ve worked smarter, not harder,” you shrug, “i’ve condensed all my reasons down to one thing.”
“and what would that be?” he pouts.
“everything.”
“that’s cheesy,” he snorts, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that makes you grin, snickering as you lean over and poke at his cheek.
“you’ll just have to deal with it. you’re my husband, after all.”
“did you ever think about it? when we were kids?” he asks softly, staring off at a young couple in the distance with a tiny grin. the boy pulls out the chair for the girl, pushing her in and tripping slightly on his way to his own seat. satoru chuckles softly at the sight.
“think about what?”
“us,” he mumbles, “getting married some day. before we got serious, at least.”
��i don’t know,” you admit, “i didn’t even think i’d date you, to be fair.”
“you hated me,” he pretends to sniffle, “you wanted me dead. you wanted me to blow up into smithereens and leave my poor mother a grieving mess, didn’t you?”
“maybe not then, but i might now,” you sigh tiredly.
“well, i knew i was going to marry you since the first time you insulted me,” he nods proudly, earning a loud chuckle from you.
“you were a little freak back in the day,” you laugh, “i believe it. only you’d be romanced by degradation.”
“baby,” he huffs, glaring at you (his eyes are soft, playful, even. so sweetly affectionate, your teeth could rot), “you should appreciate a man seeing the best at you. even when you put him through the ringer.”
he almost regrets saying it when your hand pulls away from his, but then one by one, your palms reach over to cradle his cheeks, brushing a thumb along his soft, familiar skin as you stare at him like he’s the only thing that matters.
he is, you make him believe. he’s the only thing that matters. the center of your universe. he fought tooth and nail to get there, of course, but he has no intentions of leaving.
ever.
“i will always appreciate you,” you say softly, eyes watering as you swallow thickly, chuckling when a small tear slips from your eyes. “thank you for loving me, satoru. even when it was hard. even when you had to fight to do it. no one has loved me like that.”
“aw don’t start with the waterworks now,” he mutters, looking away and blinking suspiciously enough that you suspect his own eyes are just as teary, “we can’t have you crying for me already—that’s for later.”
“never any decorum with you,” you huff out a breathless laugh.
his thumb reaches over to swipe at your tear, pinching your cheek affectionately as he grins. it’s toothy, boyish, hopelessly and completely in love. even back then, and even right now. he’s always so in love. it’s you—always, from the day you first rejected him to the day you said yes when he got in one knee, it’s been you.
“thanks for loving me too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his own voice choking a bit as he swallows, “it can’t be easy. i’m a handful.”
“at least you’re self aware,” you snicker.
satoru beams—and he’s yours. your rich, spoiled, beautiful boy. all yours to love for the rest of your rich, spoiled, beautiful days.
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i cried writing this. what a man he is truly
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luveline · 2 days
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Hi lovely!
I saw you’re looking for Hotch requests and I think I requested one before but I forgot what it is oops.
Could I please have one where Jack calls R mom for the first time and she feels super guilty about it but Hotch is super sweet.
Thanks!
ty for requesting 💞 fem (mom and stepmom!) reader, 1.4k
You’re obsessed with your little baby, but you’d loved Hotch’s son for a long time before you had your own, and you’ve continued to love Jack as your own regardless. If anything, having a baby only cemented that you love him. 
Though you’d never disrespect his mother or what she gave up for him, you’re a parent to Jack. When Hotch is home, Jack is home, and when he isn’t you have Jack four days out of the week anyways, splitting him lovingly with his Aunt Jess. You take care of him and you love to do it; being his stepmother is a gift. You love Jack. 
And he loves to cuddle. 
“Rub my hair,” he demands sleepily, crushed as far into your neck and chest as he can be without pushing his brother out of the way. 
“Say please,” you say, already bringing your hand up where it’s sandwiched behind him to stroke the hair from his eyes. “Like this?” 
“Thank you.” 
He’s pretty much always polite when he’s not tired. Which has little to do with you and everything to do with Haley and Hotch, you’re sure, he’d been a picture of a golden child the day you met him and besides the occasional tantrum or naughty spell, he’s a grateful child. He says thank you for things you want no thanks for, when you towel dry his hair at night for bed, or when you help him into his socks. He once said thank you for a kiss on the cheek, as if it wasn’t something you’d wanted to do. 
“You’re welcome,” you say softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his brow. “Can I have a little kiss?” 
You kiss his brow when he smiles, letting your eyes flutter closed, nose still pressed to his skin. 
“I love you, mommy,” he says, wrapping his arm around your neck with a sleepy snuffle. 
You struggle to answer. The baby gurgles against your chest.
There has been a lot of mommy talk lately. Hotch is calling you mommy often now that the baby’s born, cutesy stuff like, There’s mommy! when you come back from a shower, or How’s your mom? when he’s home from work and he wants to hold the baby, but he wants to check on you at the same time.
He’s never called you Jack’s mom, but Jack’s six. He was bound to get confused, or to feel new feelings, though you weren’t expecting him to do it right now. 
Eventually, you figure you’ll do what’s best for Jack even if that best isn’t something you deserve. “I love you too, baby.” 
“Are you falling to sleep?” he asks. 
You have arms full of children and Hotch will be home any minute if what he said on the phone is true, so you won’t. “Maybe not yet, but you can sleep if you want to. I’m sure dad will wake you up when he gets home.” 
Jack settles in with the baby. Your promise gives him the solace he needs to sleep.
…What if Hotch is angry? 
You’ll tell him what happened, of course, because you don’t have secrets with each other, and even if you did this is something he’s owed, right? He’s been completely candid with you about everything, how he loved Haley, how he feels he failed her in more ways than her death, and how he loves her still. 
You don’t feel like you’re competing for his loyalty or affection, it’s simply clear that he respects Haley’s memory very strongly. What if you tell him what Jack said, and what you hadn’t said, and he’s furious? 
The door opens downstairs. Hotch calls hello, but with Jack and the baby both sleeping, you stay quiet in fear of waking them. You listen to him do a familiar dance, the click of the safe where he retires his firearms, the rushing water of the faucet as he makes himself a glass of water, and then a second you assume to be for you. 
You shuffle Jack from your chest gently, pulling the baby into the curve of your arm and depositing him with an overabundance of caution into the crib. 
You hurry to the door, finger on your lips, startling your husband on the last stair. 
“I need to talk to you about something,” you whisper. 
He gestures for you to walk back down with him. He’s unperturbed by your worry, two glasses in one hand so he can use the other to feel at your shoulder as you take the stairs in front of him. “What happened?” he whispers. 
“It’s–” You wince, descending the stairs with a distinct sense of nausea. “Can we sit down? I’ll make you something to eat.” 
“I’m fine,” he says, following you to the kitchen, where you sit in adjacent chairs at the dinner table. 
You brace your hands on a placemat. 
He laughs and takes them into his own. “Nothing you tell me is worth all this worrying.” 
“It’s about Jack.” 
His smile fades. “What about him, honey?” 
“We were upstairs… You know how he is, he climbed on top of me and we were cuddling because Noah finally fell asleep, and,” —it’s best to just tell, even if you feel clammy and guilty before you’ve admitted to it— “he called me mommy. I’d never tell him to, I promise.” 
Hotch brings his hands up slowly, yours raising with them where he’s holding your wrists. “What did he say?” 
“He said he loved me. ‘I love you, mommy.’” 
“What did you say?” 
Your grimace is apologetic, eyebrows pinched. “I said I loved him too.” 
“And you’re worried that’s not okay?” You nod. “It sounds to me that he was just telling you how he feels. When you wake him up in the mornings and you tuck him in at night, and you’re the person he goes to when he needs a bandaid, you must feel like his mother.” 
“But I’m not.” 
“No.” His dark eyes are relaxed, his brow only a shade of its usual downturn. “Haley is his mother, and she’d love how you treat him. He will always, always know who his mother is. But if he wants to call you mom, a woman who loves him and looks after him with the same tenderness as you do your own, then I think that’s okay, especially with Noah getting older… How do you feel about it?” 
“I love him.” 
He does that silly smile where he’s more happy than he’ll admit to, leaning forward, pressing your hands to his arm and then his lips. “He loves you,” he says. 
Hotch stands and offers a hug. When you take it, he sways you from side to side. “She really would’ve liked you, honey. It was me who let her down.” 
“But her baby calling me mom…”
“I know. It’s a conflicting feeling.” 
You let out a big sigh and slouch in his arms. You’re warm butter under his touch. He reacts accordingly, bending and cupping the back of your neck. 
“It felt awesome,” you confess. He might as well know. After the remorse, you were happy. Jack must really love you. 
“You’re very, very good to him. Just let him love you however he wants to, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget who his mother was, and how much she loved him.” 
You wouldn’t let Jack forget her either. 
Hotch leans away to dot a kiss to your cheek before he hugs you again. “How are they? The boys?” 
“Sleeping. Waiting for you to come home and wake them up. Maybe please don’t wake up Noah, he might sleep through the night tonight if we leave him alone.” 
“I won’t. I’ll see him in the morning.” His smile is audible. “I’m a little jealous, I think. Jack hardly ever says he loves me first.” 
“You clearly don’t cuddle enough.” 
“That,” he says, giving your hip a squeeze, “is a low blow. But I’ll allow it.” 
“You’ll allow it?” 
Another adoring sweep of his arms on your back. “You can say what you want,” he amends. “Thank you for taking care of things while I was gone.” 
He doesn’t need to say thank you, you’re a family, but you appreciate the gesture. “You’re welcome, handsome.” 
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lovemomhatepolice · 3 days
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winner - lando norris
navigation taglist requests
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pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
warnings: cursing, official relationship, p in v, blowjob, handjob, fingering, unprotected sex! (protect yourself), alcohol mention, first time sex!, English is my second language!
type: fluff/smut at the end
word count: 5k+
summary: 2024 Miami Grand Prix, which ends with Lando Norris' first victory in his career and an unexpected end to the week for a new couple
more content: formula 1 masterlist, lando norris masterlist
To say that your heart was beating fast really you would have to use the most complex terms the world has ever seen. On that day, everything seemed somehow faster.
Ever since you said goodbye to Lando and let him go to prepare quietly for the race - you were not quiet at all. And this wasn't the first time you had to check your heart rate on your watch when your boyfriend was about to have a race. Oh, it was like that every time. However, you very often experienced it from home or from somewhere other than Mclaren's official garage, as your relationship was still fresh. But now you were especially afraid for him because of yesterday's incident that took place during the sprint.
You looked anxiously around the Mclaren garage in search of more familiar faces. At first you couldn't find anyone, but soon found yourself in the arms of your good friend Lily, Oscar's girlfriend. “God, how good you are here,” you said and looked at the girl with a smile of relief. “Well, it's good to see you too” She laughed and moved slightly away from you. “How do you feel?”
You adjusted the orange dress you were wearing today and smiled at her this time with a broader smile, although you continued to feel a slight uneasiness inside. “Well, this is only my second race where Lando and I can officially show up as a couple, so it's definitely still pretty damn new to me.” You replied sincerely, combing your hand through your hair. “But I'm positive, the guys did great in qualifying, so hopefully this will help something.”
“You're right. Well, who if not them?” She laughed and comfortingly touched your hand. “Come on, let's get something to drink so you don't fall here.”
Time passed inexorably slowly without Lando, but even so, you opened up even more to the rest of the people in the team. Everyone was very nice and tried to create a family atmosphere, which you could feel. You drank cocktails that had been prepared together earlier and ate delicacies that were decorated specially in the color of papaya.
Meanwhile, Bianca has also joined you. You were so damn grateful that she was there too - ever since you met her she was like a little sister to you.
From that moment on, you were in your own world. There were people next to you with whom you felt good and you knew that you would have a nice time racing, so you practically didn't stress about what was around you anymore.
You were in the middle of a conversation with your boyfriend's team, Lily and Bianca, when you felt strong arms around your waist. You didn't wonder for a long time who they belonged to.
“Hello,” you laughed and turned around, still remaining in his arms.
Lando was now standing in front of you, smiling from ear to ear, which was nothing new at all. This boy always had a smile on his face, maybe sometimes smaller, sometimes bigger, but it definitely never left him.
“Hi”, Lando smiled at you and hugged you. “Did I surprise you?”
You laughed under your breath. "A little bit, I'll admit it," You replied and reached out your hand towards his slightly wet hair. The weather was really harsh today, let alone during the race when they had to sit in hot cars. "I thought you were getting ready for the race. After all, they were…' You stopped and glanced at the clock on the wall behind Lando. "You have less than an hour until the race," You muttered, looking back at your boyfriend.
The people who were standing with you earlier went their separate ways, giving you a place for a moment of privacy. You were very happy about this because at least for a while you could be relatively alone. Locked in our own bubble that no one seemed to get over.
“I know, but I had to see you before it started. My nerves are giving out,” the British driver replied, pulling you closer to him.
At that moment, there was nothing better for him than the touch of his girlfriend. He enjoyed the contact with you, the smell of your perfume, the softness of your skin.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered in your ear. “In the color of our team I haven't seen you yet.”
You heard his giggle and you didn't stop it either. You moved slightly away from the boy, however, still remaining in his embrace, and looked at him with an infatuated look on your face.
"Lando, I know how this may sound, but I feel in my bones that today is your day," you said and before Lando had time to speak, you continued. "Don't jump out at me here with your pessimistic talk like you're in the habit of saying, but just focus on your task, yeah?”
He laughed, and a slight redness filled his cheeks. He knew you well and knew how much you believed in him, but this time he wasn't sure. Because of the situation at the sprint, his head was cluttered with many thoughts. His self-doubt was not going away and was consuming him all over. Just as it had many times before.
"You know me so well, it's scary," Lando muttered. "I'll try, I really will, but what if I crash? Or worse, what if my engine gives up? I'm nervous, what can I say."
He muttered more quietly, as if someone would hear you, and tucked his head in the hollow of your neck. There were a lot of people around you, but hardly anyone knew what you were really talking about and hardly anyone dared to interrupt it at all.
"That's okay. Things don't always work out the way we want them to, and it's not always our fault," you replied, stroking his back and neck.
Of course you were damn scared for him. Always, regardless of the degree of your acquaintance, you were afraid of what might happen on the track. Apparently, fatal or more severe accidents didn't happen as often as you might think, but the fear continued in your mind.
Lando nodded slowly as you stroked his back and neck, feeling his heart beat faster. The touch of your hands on his body was always pleasant, but now it was different.
He drew you to him again, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and bringing your foreheads together.
"I'm grateful to you," he said, and his voice was slightly strained. This was nothing new before the races, and it continued to break your heart terribly. Despite more than 100 races, Lando continued to have misgivings inside. "It was somehow harder without you, you know? You're like my angel here."
You smiled tightly at him and moved even closer to the boy, kissing him on the lips. Quite lightly, but enough for him to feel it. All the emotions you wanted to convey to him at that moment.
"I am and will be by your side for as long as possible," you replied, smiling from ear to ear, which your boyfriend reciprocated.
Lando pulled you even closer to him, his body practically melting into yours. He was breathing heavily and for a moment he couldn't focus on anything, he was so lost in the moment. For a moment he forgot about the race, and his thoughts revolved only around you.
His eyes wandered over your face, and one of his hands stroked your waist through the thin layer of your orange dress.
“I love you,” he muttered lightly, but it was enough to completely melt you. His words were sincere and you knew it well. You could see it by how tightly he embraced you and how soft his lips were, gently brushing against your mouth.
“I love you too, you can't even imagine how much,” you replied, looking into his bright eyes.
Your time together passed inexorably fast, and before you knew it, your conversation was interrupted by one of Lando's team members, already calling him to the race.
“I'll be here waiting for you and keeping my fingers crossed,” you said, hugging him tightly one last time. “You are the best.”
Your whisper reached the boy's ears, at which he smiled widely. Oh, how much he loved you!
Lando reciprocated the smile, then stepped back to look at you. A huge smile was still on his lips. The boy reached out and gently brushed your hair out of your eyes. He took a deep breath before saying:
“I'll make you proud of me, I promise.”
That was the last thing you heard from his lips before he gave you one last kiss and with a quick step walked out towards his car with the rest of the team. You weren't able to answer him anymore, but you knew perfectly well that no matter the outcome, you would still be proud of him.
The race could already be felt around the corner...
After several minutes, there was no sign of Lando's team in the Mclaren garage. Each of them was in their own place and getting ready for the race. The atmosphere around them thickened even more, but all this time was spent in good company. Next to you, Lily and Bianca reappeared, as well as Lando's friends who were visiting Miami today.
Through the screen, you saw each of the drivers line up and looked out carefully for the orange car. It didn't take you long to spot it, mainly because of the yellow element at the top, making it easy to recognize them with Oscar. You smiled under your breath as you watched Lando gracefully park in the seat with the number 5.
“3…2…1! And off they go!” The voice from the loudspeaker rang out and the race began. And in your heart was the thought that everything would be fine.
•••
For a long time, dominance continued on the side of Max Verstappen, who overtook his rivals with quite a large time difference. You weren't particularly surprised. Red Bull had been the front-runner with Max for a long time - this year the only person to win a race besides him was Carlos in Australia, when the world champion's car had a glitch.
Drivers passed each other lap after lap, and time dragged mercilessly. The list was quite repetitive, and there were few replacements in front of you. Max, Charles, Oskar in the top three. Behind them Carlos, Sergio Perez and finally in sixth place Lando.
Finally, things started to get busy on the track. More and more drivers had PIT stops, making the names on the list change dramatically. The initial top five were also swapping among themselves, when suddenly you saw on the screen that at lap 24 the race leader was Oscar.
“Oh god!” muttered Lily, grabbing your hand.
You smiled in her direction, supportively squeezing her hand. In her eyes you could see how proud she was of her boyfriend. You weren't surprised, you totally understood that, especially now that Lando was in third place and seemed to hold it for a long time.
There was a bloody buzz in the Mclaren sphere, as well as in his garage, and people rose from their seats in fact from the moment Oscar and now Lando took dominance of the race. It was definitely their day and no matter which of them was going to finish on the podium, you were all very excited and supportive.
“Lando, you can do it,” you whispered to yourself, continuing to squeeze your hand with Lily.
“God, I can't stand it,” muttered Bianca, and approached you from the other side, grabbing the other of your hands.
And that was the turning point. The yellow flag, Sargeant's accident and the safety car. And Lando, who was out of it all, making his leadership of the race reach even greater heights.
You were well aware that there were more than twenty laps left of the race, but the sight of Lando, who calmly led the entire race driving behind the safety car this time, while Verstappen and Leclerc were treading on his heels, triggered such strong feelings in you that you would not be able to describe them in any words.
You knew this was his day. And just as you had promised earlier, you kept your fingers crossed with your whole self. Your hands with the girls were clenched so tightly that you had to finally relax so as not to hurt each other.
“I think our boy is going to walk away with the gold!” You heard somewhere off to the side from one of Mclaren's employees, making you laugh under your breath.
Everyone believed in him. Everyone knew that this was his day. Finally, after so many races, it was finally his time to show that he was somebody. To let everyone know it, not just his team and those close to him. Lando didn't talk about it out loud, but you knew very well that it was something he wanted to achieve. To show every person who insulted him and didn't believe he could, that he was not at all a silly young man who doesn't win races.
You followed each lap almost breathlessly, clenching your fists tightly. Tears appeared in your eyes, but you didn't give them a chance to leave your eyes. Everyone sat quietly, awaiting the expected end of the race. Charles in third, Max in second. And Lando in first. His dream was coming true at the moment, and it was confirmed by the words that came across the room less than a second later.
“15 times Lando Norris has stood on the podium. But never on the top step - until now. It's a landmark day for Lando.”
You heard and closed your eyes for literally a second to give vent to your tears. A huge smile appeared on your lips and you quickly felt the strong embrace of your colleagues around you, who were also touched by the situation. The whole garage was there, everyone was hugging, shouting with joy, clapping.
“Lando Norris wins for the first time in Formula One! It's victory in Miami for Norris and Mclaren!” The commentator shouted over the loudspeakers, which gave the final vent to all the emotions you were suppressing inside.
“He did it!”, Bianca exclaimed, hugging you from the side.
"He did it" You whispered to yourself and hugged the girls tightly to your body.
There was no end to the smiles and congratulations, and you all looked impatiently at the screen, which continued to show the winners of today's race. You watched with a smile as Lando celebrated with his team, who were waiting for him outside, and as each of the drivers hugged him in turn offering their sincerest congratulations. You were most touched by Lando and Carlos' hug, which made you gently scrunch your nose, giggling softly.
And that's what you loved about the racing - despite the rivalry, everyone supported each other and in moments like this one - the first win - they were like brothers to each other.
You really wanted to join him at this point, but you were further unsure about your appearance in more public places like Mclaren's garage, so you waited bravely.
Together with some of the team, you reached the place where the official trophy presentation was to take place. With a huge smile on your lips, you watched and recorded your boyfriend, who also, as was his custom, had a smile from ear to ear. You could well see a tear in his eye, however, no one could surprise him. It was definitely the best day of his life and everyone wanted to help him make it so he would never forget it.
And finally it came. Something you both had been waiting for a long time and finally could get. Yourselves in each other's embrace.
As soon as you saw each other after the boy entered the room where you stayed the whole race, you laughed. He, all sweaty and doused in champagne with tears of luck in his eyes, continuing in his racing outfit and with the prize in his hand, standing just like that in front of you, as if he had come home from his usual job. And you, laughing, also with tears in your eyes, in a dress in the shade of papaya, in which you supported him with your whole self. And not just today, you could do it to the end. You loved him in every possible form of the word.
You quickly shortened the distance that separated you, however, you didn't allow yourselves to touch yet. For now, you looked into each other's eyes, giggling under your breath like a pair of teenagers in love.
"Lando Norris, winner of the Miami GP race on May 5, 2024, huh?" you muttered, giggling under your breath, and looked straight into his eyes.
"[Y.N] [Y.L.N], the angel who stood over me the whole race and brought me luck and the most beautiful girl under the sun who is only mine, huh? he laughed and further reduced the distance between you, putting down the prize to one of the team members who suddenly appeared somewhere.
You were well aware that there were people around you, however, it didn't matter to you as before. However, now it was different - you were both drowning in even more happiness.
"Okay screw it, because I can't take it anymore." Purrs Lando and pulled you to him by the waist.
Your lips momentarily connected, but this time more firmly than usual. You felt all the emotions you had to offer the other person flowing between you and you were drowning in them.
You moved slightly away from Lando, placing your hands on his cheeks and combed lightly through his sticky curls. You smiled broadly in his direction, but it didn't take long and Lando quickly closed your lips in a kiss.
He pulled you even closer to him - if that was even possible and now you could perfectly feel the warmth of each other's bodies.
"I knew you would win," you whispered to him in a way that only he could hear.
Lando smiled broadly and stroked your hip with his large hand, leaning over you even more. This time his lips brushed the lobe of your ear, making you get goosebumps.
"You are my amulet of luck." he muttered, kissing your ear.
However, your moment could not last forever, and once again someone interrupted you. You moved slightly away from your boyfriend, but only a little - he didn't allow you to do more, but enough to make you feel comfortable.
"Lando, we have one more interview and then you can go wherever you want," Charles said, smiling in your direction. "Oh, hey [Y.N], I haven't seen you here in a long time."
You walked closer to the man and embraced him, smiling sincerely in his direction. It's true, it's been a long time since you've had a chance to see him, which you damn well regretted, because who like anyone, but Charles you adored. He was one of the drivers you liked better.
"Hello Charles, I hope we'll soon have the opportunity to spend time together somehow longer. I'm awfully excited to meet little Leo," you giggled, moving away from Leclerc to a comfortable distance.
"Oh god yes, she keeps talking about it," said Lando, jabbing you in the ribs with his finger. You smacked his hand lightly and stuck out your tongue in his direction.
"Okay good, go conduct the last interview star, and I will collect your stuff and what? I assume a moment at the hotel and celebrate?" You asked your boyfriend, but you didn't have to wait long for his answer.
Lando quickly nodded his head and kissed you one last time on the lips, then left together with Charles towards the right place. You, for your part, said goodbye to everyone in Mclaren's garage, in places stopping for a shorter or longer conversation. You said your last goodbyes to your friends, parting, in fact, only for a moment, as you were soon to end up at the same club. You grabbed all of Lando's things and waited for him on one of the couches, looking through your phone.
A slightly tired Lando sat down at the couch next to you after 20 minutes, quickly handing you his belongings so that you could help him. "The interview is hopefully finished," he muttered, leaning his head on your shoulder. His eyes were half-closed and it was clear that he was not far from falling into a deep sleep. But Lando also knew well that this moment would not last long. The whole team wanted to celebrate the victory, and the most important celebration was waiting for him. But for now, he was enjoying his peace and you.
"Come on, Lando. We are going to celebrate your victory." You said and jumped up from the couch, grabbing your boyfriend's hand and gently pulling him towards you.
•••
One of Miami's more popular clubs sparkled with all sorts of lights. It was packed with people - the more popular ones and those who just wanted to party that evening. There was a smell of alcohol and other substances, which you quickly picked up, paving your way behind Max, who had come with you to the place.
You were wearing a short black dress that glowed slightly, completing the atmosphere of the club. Lando walked behind you, holding your hand tightly so that you didn't escape his sight for a moment.
It didn't take long for him to be recognized. Immediately the moment you took your place at one of the higher walls, however, still in a good place between other people at your friends - Pierre with Kika and Max with Kelly, the drivers were recognized. To your eyes appeared a large led sign that loudly sang about Lando's win with the dancers, to which you burst out laughing seeing his embarrassment. You hugged him tightly to you, swaying to the rhythm of the song as people around you congratulated him on his first place, singing loudly.
You and your boyfriend celebrated with the others, but before long you found yourselves with only each other. You had already had one drink, so you were both giggling more than usual and were even more available to each other. Lando moved behind you, and you twirled your hips around his crotch, which made him moan right in your ear.
You shuddered and turned your head toward him. Lando didn't wait long, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your hands went to his neck, making the case that the distance between you was practically non-existent anymore. As you kissed, you felt Lando's hand slide down to your ass and clamp down hard on it, so the moan that came out of you went directly into his mouth.
"Lando," you whispered, bringing your lips together again.
Lando's hands roamed all over your body, but his attention was mainly focused on your hips and buttocks. He squeezed them tightly in his hand and smoothly rubbed his thumb over them. He leaned down slightly and whispered in your ear: "Damn, how much I love you."
"All mine" he moaned and squeezed you a little tighter, pushing you even closer together as much as possible.
Your kisses became more and more passionate, and his breathing became deeper. Your hands wandered over his unbuttoned shirt and light curls.
"Lando, I want to go back to the hotel," I said, looking straight into his beautiful bright eyes, signaling with my gaze that there is something I want more now than being in the middle of a crowded club with another people.
He noticed your gaze and nodded slowly. The heat rose in your faces and your bodies were pressed firmly against each other.
"We're leaving right away," Lando whispered in your ear, taking your hand and leading you away from the main crowd.
You did not have to wait long to get there. At Lando's request, a specially designated person from his team came to pick you up and brought you safely and quite quickly in front of the hotel.
You said goodbye to the driver and, without hesitation, headed for the elevator, holding hands and giggling under your breath. Oh, the giggles that evening were endless...
When you reached your floor, a door opened and Lando led you into your room. He closed the door behind you and quickly turned to you, pulling you close to him.
His lips landed on yours once again and he breathed loudly in your ear: "I want only you tonight."
"I want you too Lando." You responded by reciprocating his kiss. "I'm really ready today."
The boy's eyes flashed. On the one hand because of the excitement, on the other hand he himself didn't know how he could describe the excitement that was tugging at him. You wasted no time, and your lips never moved away from each other. Your hands nimbly unbuttoned the buttons of Lando's black shirt, which you helped him to throw off.
"Are you sure?" He asked, pulling slightly away from you to look into your eyes.
"I'm so sure. Lando, this is something I've wanted for a long time," you replied truthfully, waiting for his reaction.
For him, these words were the most important thing because he also wanted this moment with all his heart and now he could have it.
He pulled you even closer to him again, so that your bodies touched even tighter. One hand slipped underneath your dress, up your thigh, and he whispered. "Then we're not wasting anymore time here, my love."
He leaned down and kissed you again, pressing his lips even more warmly into yours. The kiss became more passionate, more intense. You couldn't control yourself, all your senses were in his hands. You moaned softly as his warm, large hands glided over your body, slowly exploring it.
Lando breathed deeply and groaned, tightening his grip on you and pulling your hips even closer to him. A minute later, Lando pulled you into him and laid you on the hotel bed on your back.
Lando leaned over you, his hands roaming all over your body, and pressed his lips to your neck, nibbling lightly on your skin. He stepped back slightly and began to remove your dress, one strap, then the other.
He breathed deeper, and his hands moved smoothly over your curves and hips. Finally, he took off your underwear and threw it behind you. He then tilted his head back, looking at you lustfully.
"[Y.N], you are so fucking beautiful." he replied, smiling to himself under his breath.
You reciprocated his smile, pulling him to you by the back of his neck. Without waiting long, you joined your lips in a passionate kiss, feeling your boyfriend's hand go lower and lower until it reached the place where you wanted him most. You moaned directly into his mouth as his fingers began to create a circles on your pussy.
"Fuck" you hissed.
Lando breathed heavily as he felt you react to his touch in such a delicate way. Your moans were the best sound in the world for him and he couldn't resist. His hand rubbed up and down slowly and gently, and he whispered in your ear.
"Oh, you're so sensitive, baby," he whispered, and then he rubbed your clit a little more quickly.
"Lando!" you moaned as you felt his finger inside you, moving nimbly inside you.
The boy brought your lips together again, adding another finger. He didn't move away from you for a moment, with his thumb still making sensual circles on your clit, and the other two moving inside you. His mouth quickly invaded your neck, making trails down until he reached your breasts. You moaned as he began to massage one of them with his free hand and took the other into his mouth, playing with your hard nipple.
"All right," he murmured, placing wet kisses all over your chest, giving equal attention to both breasts, which were even burning from his touch.
All that touch of his, which he now devoted to your satisfaction, soon induced a state of euphoria in you, which made itself perfectly known for quite a while. The boy continued to move his fingers inside you and over your clit with his thumb, allowing you to relax after the initial sensation.
"Lando, I need you inside me," you muttered as your body stopped shaking from the first orgasm of the evening.
"Your words are an order to me," he replied, helping you to rise slightly so that you were sitting up, but you had other plans for the moment. "However, first it is time to take care of my winner as he should be taken care of," you muttered in his ear, getting down on your knees in front of the bed on which he was sitting. You slid up slightly, letting him free of his pants and boxers, which looked downright painful on his erection.
Lando looked down at you with dreamy and infatuated eyes. He could have sworn he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. Even his win today didn't compete with what was happening and what was about to happen.
"How beautiful," you said, touching his entire length. You had to admit that the boy had something to boast about and you knew it well. More than once you had already seen each other naked and given each other oral pleasure.
Quickly his entire length was in your mouth. You moved nimbly, trying to give him as much pleasure as possible. And that's probably exactly what happened, looking at the fact that Lando quickly tilted his head back and made quiet but giving noises. Quickly with the faster movement of your lips around his dick, Lando began to make louder noises from himself.
"Fuck, how good," he muttered, looking at you with squinted eyes.
He didn't let you finish your work, however, but pulled you into his lap and joined your lips in a passionate kiss, while you grabbed his penis and directed it directly into your hole. Slowly you lowered yourself to his length, and your lips left each other with hot moans of pleasure. "God, how tight you are," howled Lando, placing his hands on your hips and helping you bounce on his lap.
Lando was in heaven. He felt your strong, warm hands and the touch of your sensitive lips as your lips pressed firmly into his. He groaned and clenched his hand around your hip, pulling you in even close as you pushed yourself forward and got him deep in you.
"I love you," he gasped, squeezing even harder and pulling you in even deeper.
“I love you so much,” you moaned, grabbing his jaw and connecting your lips in a heated kiss.
Due to his tighter grip, the boy was now moving inside you with greater speed and force, giving you sensations you had never experienced before, you felt as if you were going to faint. Additional pleasure came when Lando moved his hand between your bodies and touched your swollen pussy, giving her another dose of attention she was definitely crying out for.
"Mine, you're mine and only mine", Lando breathed under his breath and squeezed you even tighter, driving you wild.
"Yeah, only yours" you whispered against his lips, continuing to bounce in rhythm on his cock. "I am close"
"Look at me," he moaned softly and pulled you face up so that you were looking him in the eyes.
"I'm happy with my win today, you know?" he asked, waiting for your answer and you nodded. "But you know what makes me even happier? You. Just you, how close you were to me today, how close you really are all the time and that you showed how important I am to you and that now you have given yourself completely to me. Our bodies connected "I have never felt so good in my life. You are my best feeling."
He said and smiled at you. No matter how it may have sounded, these words brought you closer to the long-awaited moment of orgasm, which shook your bodies at practically the same time. You continued to move nimbly on his length, helping him come down from his orgasm. You felt all of your mixed juices slowly pouring out of you, but you didn't pay much attention to it. Your lips were as one again, as were your bodies, and you simply appreciated this moment of your first time together…
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A/N: well, there's a chapter dedicated to Lando's win in Miami! God, I'm so proud of our little Lando Norris, I don't even have words to describe it
I hope you liked the chapter and will leave something behind! I would like to gain 500 followers by the end of the month, so I will be happy if you stay longer :)
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
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barcaatthemoon · 10 hours
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sniffles || barcelona x teen!reader ||
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you try to hide your sickness from the team.
you weren't really sure what was wrong with you, but you felt awful. it was the kind of sick that would have gotten you off from school whenever you'd been living with your parents. things were a bit different in barcelona with alexia, but you knew that she'd make you miss practice if she found out. sometimes, you wanted nothing more than a break from everything, but there was a big game coming up and you wanted in the starting squad.
that was why you had woken up extra early to make sure that you looked healthy. alexia was none the wiser, even if she had given you weird looks for wearing makeup. luckily, she didn't quiestion it much since a few of the girls had been teasing you for your very obvious crush on another one of the younger players.
"don't take too long getting ready," alexia warned as she let you stop into the locker room. unlike her, you hadn't just worn a training kit in. but you also didn't like to literally start things off by running some laps. you thought alexia was crazy for warming up for her warm ups, but you suspected that was what she needed to stay in such good shape after her injury.
"oi, little chick, are you feeling alright?" ona asked as she stepped up beside you. the team liked to tease you for being wound up for certain things, and your posture was one of them. you were a stickler for perfect posture, unless you weren't feeling well.
"just a bit tired, ale woke up me up earlier than normal." it wasn't a complete lie. you reminded yourself to stay sitting and standing straight for the rest of practice. occasionally one of the other girls would come up and ask if you were alright, noticing that you did seem a little off. luckily, you could pass it off as being tired, but as the day dragged on, it was getting more and more difficult.
your cover had nearly been blown in the gym during the day's lifting session. since you were trying to build up a bit more muscle mass, you trained with the keepers. you had counted on sandra being protective in the motherly way that she always was, but you hadn't expected cata to be keeping such a close eye on you.
"drop the weight down and step away," cata ordered. she had been spotting you on the squat rack. you were still in the lighter part of things and definitely shouldn't have been making the wheezing sounds that you were. "you know the rules. are you trying to hurt yourself?"
"what's going on?" if it was just sandra or alexia, you could have gotten away with claiming that cata was just being mean to you, but when irene joined the group, you feared the jig was up.
"there's something wrong with (y/n), she's wheezing!" cata exclaimed. alexia reached out to feel your forehead, but you ducked out of the way. unfortunately, sandra was able to grab you and irene placed the back of her hand on your forehead.
"she's warm, but she was also going really hard today at practice," irene said. she glanced over at alexia to help decide what they should do with you.
"she's sick, probably with whatever bruna had last week," cata said. you sent her a nasty glare, but the older girl was unphased by it.
"how do you feel?" sandra asked as she turned towards you.
"i feel fine, maybe a little tired, but alexia woke me up this morning. i'd like to finish my workout please," you said sweetly. cata scoffed as sandra let you go. sandra, irene, and alexia all kissed the top of your head as they apologized for interrupting you. cata was obviously mad at you, so you walked over to finish your workout with lucy and the other defenders.
at irene's insistence, you kept things lighter. you didn't notice cata telling alexia to keep an eye on you, so you had no idea that alexia was watching your every move after your shower. she cursed herself as the two of you got home when you let the facade slip a bit. it was obvious with your makeup washed off that you were not well. she should have listened to cata the first time and made you go sit down.
"what game are we watching tonight?" you asked from where you had already curled up on the couch. alexia sighed as she glanced down at you. it was usually a hassle to get you to watch games, and as much as alexia wanted the win, she also wanted to instill good habits in you as well. there would come a day when you'd go somewhere that she couldn't keep an eye on you, and it terrified her a little bit.
"we can start watching a game later, i wanted to talk to you first. how have you been feeling today?" alexia asked you. she made sure to use her gentle voice, knowing that you didn't do well wtih being lectured otherwise.
"well, i've been a bit tired, but otherwise okay. did cata really get it in your head that i'm like, sick or something?" you tried to make it as believable as possible that you were feeling fine. one pointed look at alexia had you mumbling out the truth with tears in your eyes.
alexia sighed as she pulled you into a hug and reassured you, "you're not in trouble this time, but don't do it again." you nodded with your head against her chest. you did start crying, and soon the tears turned into a pretty nasty coughing fit. alexia was quick to get up and get you a glass of water and some medicine. she took your temperature and texted jona whenever it came back way too high.
"i don't want to miss the game," you whined. alexia didn't seem to care as she tucked you into the couch. "i've worked so hard to get to play. please, ale, i want to play."
"if you feel better by the end of the week, we'll see about you subbing on. that just means you need to rest up until then," alexia told you. you'd do anything that she told you to if it meant that you'd get to play in the game. alexia seemed to know that because she had you spending the week watching all of the game film and taking notes that you could manage. whenever she had to be away, she left you in the care of olga, who definitely slipped you more sweets than alexia would ever allow and watched tiktoks with you on the couch for hours at a time.
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wannab3-writer · 2 days
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Country Club Rivalry
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PATRICK ZWEIG X CHILDHOOD FRIEND READER (some Art x reader)
NOTES : GOD, how I tried to make this an Art x Reader because I'm an Art GIRLIE, but Pat just had to come out on top for this one, truly…"
WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread
wc: 5.3k
description:
When three friends work at the same country club, things are bound to get messy—especially when they have a bet about who can win over the reader first.
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The Oakridge Country Club was bustling with its usual summer energy. Guests lounged by the pool, chatting under the striped umbrellas, while golf carts zipped along the winding paths. The sun blazed overhead, casting sharp shadows on the clay tennis courts where Patrick and Art were finishing their morning lessons.
You stood at the server station near the patio, jotting down drink orders on your notepad. It wasn't your first summer at the country club, but you still enjoyed the easy rhythm of the job—the way the breeze rustled through the trees, the laughter of kids playing by the pool, and the familiar faces of the regulars.
Patrick waved at you from across the tennis courts, his hair tousled from teaching. He was grinning like he always did when he'd just finished a good session. Art stood beside him, spinning his racket in his hand, looking relaxed and effortlessly charming.
"Hey, how's your section?" Patrick called, jogging over with Art trailing behind. He was wearing his usual tennis gear, white shirt, and shorts, with a blue visor to keep the sun out of his eyes.
"Pretty good," you replied, glancing at your notepad. "Mrs. Anderson is on her third mimosa, so I'm expecting a big tip."
Art laughed. "Better watch out, she's got a mean backhand when she's tipsy. I saw her smack a golf ball into the pond last week. Her caddie still hasn't recovered."
Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic Mrs. Anderson. Did you know she was a tennis champion back in the day? She could probably still give us a run for our money."
Art leaned in, lowering his voice. "Speaking of giving people a run for their money, I heard you've been racking up the tips lately. What's your secret?"
You shrugged with a playful smile. "Just being nice to people, Art. You should try it sometime."
Patrick laughed and nudged Art's shoulder. "Yeah, Art, maybe if you focused less on flirting with every guest and more on your job, you'd make some tips, too."
Art feigned shock. "Me? Flirting? I don't know what you're talking about." He turned to you with a charming grin. "Do you think I'm a flirt?"
You raised an eyebrow. "A little, but that's your thing, right? I mean, it's not like you're betting on who can get the most milfs phone numbers or anything." Clearly sarcastic.
Patrick shot Art a look, then quickly turned to you with a smile. "Yeah, nothing like that. We just... like to keep things interesting."
Art nodded, but you noticed a brief flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was subtle, but it made you wonder if there was more to their competition than met the eye.
"Well, whatever it is, just don't bring any drama into my section, okay?" you said, playfully tapping your notepad against Art's chest. "I've got enough to deal with without you two causing trouble."
Patrick raised his hands in mock surrender. "No drama, I promise. We'll be on our best behavior."
Art winked. "Scout's honor."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. Despite the teasing and the occasional competitive streak, you knew they meant well. It was just another summer at the country club, where the days were long, the sun was hot, and anything could happen.
Anything.
---
The Club had settled into its evening rhythm by the time you reached the bar. Fairy lights twinkled overhead, casting soft glimmers on the stone patio. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass. A live band played classic rock covers, the gentle strum of guitars mingling with the murmur of patrons relaxing after a day of golf and tennis.
Patrick was at a corner table, nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He looked up from his phone and waved you over, a broad smile lighting up his face. He'd changed out of his tennis instructor uniform into a casual blue polo and jeans, his hair still damp from a quick shower.
"Hey, there you are!" he said, using his foot to pull out a chair for you. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."
You shook your head with a grin. "Please, I could hear your bad jokes all the way from the kitchen. Had to come and see what was so funny."
Patrick laughed, setting his phone aside. "You know I'm hilarious. You just pretend not to appreciate my sense of humor."
You took a seat and glanced around. The bar was lively but not overcrowded. A group of older couples was playing cards at a nearby table, and a few teenagers from the tennis program were playing darts in the corner. It felt like the perfect end to a busy day.
"So, what are we drinking tonight?" Patrick asked, gesturing to the menu. "I've got whiskey, but I hear the margaritas are pretty good."
You considered for a moment. "Let's go with the margaritas. I need something fruity after today."
Patrick flagged down the bartender, who quickly mixed up a pitcher of margaritas with a generous splash of tequila. He poured you a glass and handed it over with a mock bow. "Your drink, my liege. May it bring you all the fruitiness you desire."
You raised your glass with a chuckle. "Thank you, William,” you turn towards the brunet “To Patrick, who somehow managed not to break any tennis rackets today. It's a new record!"
Patrick clinked his whiskey against your glass. "And to you, for not spilling any drinks on Mrs. Anderson. She's still mad about last summer's 'mimosa incident.'"
You rolled your eyes, remembering the time you accidentally spilled a tray of drinks on Mrs. Anderson's white dress during a particularly hectic brunch. "Don't remind me. I had to run for cover like I was in a war zone. I thought she’d have my head.”
Patrick laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "You should've seen her face. It was like you'd ruined her entire day. But hey, at least you got to keep your job."
As the two of you shared stories and relived old memories, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the patio. The band transitioned to a slower song, adding a mellow vibe to the evening.
Art arrived a little later, his tennis gear replaced by a button-down snap back and jeans. He had a confident stride and a smile that seemed to draw attention wherever he went. He slid into the seat next to you, his presence bringing a shift in the energy at the table.
"What's up, party people?" he said, his voice smooth and inviting. "I hope you saved some margaritas for me."
Patrick handed him a glass. "Of course, wouldn't want our little Arty to feel left out.”  He added leaning into Art smirking. “What took you so long anyways,  Shelly needed some one-on-one time to work on her underhand? Or what. ”
You smirked. "You really think He’s that charming, huh?” she turns towards Art looking into his eyes “What’s your secret hmm? Is it the cologne?"
Art leaned in with a grin. "It's all about confidence. And maybe a little bit of cologne. But mostly confidence."
Patrick rolled his eyes. "Right, because confidence is what you exude. You should've seen Art on the tennis court today. He was so confident he almost hit a kid with a tennis ball."
Art raised an eyebrow. "Almost. That's the key word. No harm, no foul."
The banter continued, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm. Art's charm contrasted with Patrick's laid-back, cheeky style, and you found yourself enjoying the playful back-and-forth.
As the evening progressed, you noticed Patrick watching Art with a hint of unease. It was subtle, like a flicker in his eyes whenever Art made you laugh a little too hard or leaned in a little too close.
---
"All right, we're here. Try not to break anything, okay? Last time you were here, my mom couldn't find her favorite vase for a week."
Art smirked, stepping inside. "That wasn't my fault! How was I supposed to know it was on top of the fridge? Who puts a vase on the fridge, anyway?"
Art dropped his bag in his Patrick’s room and looked around. The place had an eclectic charm—walls lined with tennis trophies, faded concert posters, and family photos. A stack of video games sat beside the TV.
Patrick led the way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. He tossed one to Art, who caught it with ease. "So, what are you in the mood for? I was thinking pizza, but we can order something else if you're not into it."
Art popped open the bear and took a sip. "Pizza sounds good. Just no anchovies, okay? That stuff is nasty."
Patrick laughed, opening his own soda. "You're missing out, man. Anchovies are a delicacy." He grabbed the phone and dialed the pizza place, ordering a large with pepperoni and sausage. "There, something a bit more your speed. Happy now?"
Art nodded, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, that'll work. So, you ready for tomorrow? Two-on-two is serious business. We can't afford to slack off."
Patrick waved a hand dismissively. "Please, I'm always ready. Besides, we've got the advantage. I mean, have you seen the other teams? Half of them can't even hit a backhand."
Art chuckled. "You're so modest, Patrick. What would you do without me to keep you humble?"
Patrick shrugged with a grin. "Probably win more matches.”
Art threw a punch at Patrick's shoulder, and Patrick pretended to wince. They both laughed, the kind of easy camaraderie that came from years of friendship and shared jokes. But there was also a subtle tension in the air, like they were both aware of the unspoken rivalry that had been growing between them.
"So," Patrick said, leaning back against the kitchen island, biting his lip "you and […] seemed pretty chummy tonight. What's the story there? You trying to make a move, or what?" The familiar smirk making its way to his face.
Art raised an eyebrow, his expression guarded. "We're just talking. Nothing wrong with getting to know someone, right?" He finished wetting his lips.
Patrick smirked. "Sure, nothing wrong with that.” He shrugged.  “But you're not just getting to know her. You're flirting, and we both know it." He took a couple steps forward “Basically eye fucking her, to be honest” He only smiled.
Art shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Oh, come on Pat, maybe, She's just fun to be around, you know. No need to be gross." Art gave him a wry smile. "You know me. I just go with the flow. If she likes hanging out with me, who am I to complain?"
Patrick leaned in, lowering his voice. "Or maybe, you think she's interested in you. Is that what this is about? You think you've got a shot?" His eyes scanning arts face.
Art met his gaze, his expression calm but with a hint of challenge. "I don't know, man. Maybe I do. What does it matter to you huh? You think you've got the inside track because you've known her longer?"
Patrick grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I mean, it doesn't hurt. We've got a lot of history. I'm charming, good-looking, and I've got the best jokes. What's not to like?" he goes back to lean on the counter. “Besides, I’ve seen the real her, all of it, kinda gives me a little advantage don’t you think.”
Art halts, stops chewing his gum, straitening himself up. “What’s that supposed to mean Patrick.”
“Exactly what it you think.” He kissed his teeth, kicking off the counter and going back to looking inside the fridge.
Art chuckled, but there was a hint of envy in his laugh. "Well, if you're so confident, maybe we should make it interesting. How about a little bet? See who can win her over first?"
Patrick waved his hand dismissively. "Little Arty wants a bet he’ll lose?” He chuckles. “No games. Just a simple bet. May the best man win."
Art held out his hand, and Patrick shook it with a grin. The bet was sealed, but there was an underlying seriousness in Art's eyes. As they waited for the pizza, the two friends continued their banter, but there was a new edge to their jokes—like the stakes had just gotten a little higher.
---
A week after their doubles match, the annual Oakridge Country Club gala was in full swing, the ballroom bustling with elegantly dressed members and guests. The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting warm light onto the neatly set tables, while smooth jazz played in the background. You stood near the entrance, surveying the glamorous crowd, your fitted dress drawing approving glances from a few partygoers.
Art was the first to spot you, leaning against a wall with a cocktail in hand, chatting up club regulars. He was dressed in a sharp suit, but he carried himself with a boyish charm. His grin was wide as he motioned for you to come over, his eyes moving from your head to your heels in a way that felt like a visual undressing.
"Wow," he said, raising his glass, "you clean up nice. I was expecting you to show up in your waiter outfit or something. I'm glad you went with the dress, though. Much more... appealing."
You gave him a playful smirk, stepping up to the bar. "Thanks, Art. I do my best to impress." You glanced at his drink. "Are you trying to get a head start on the partying? We haven't even hit the dance floor yet."
He took a sip, his gaze lingering on your lips. "Hey, I like to loosen up a bit before the main event. Keeps things interesting. Besides, you can't blame a guy for wanting to enjoy himself, right? You gonna  help me enjoy my night and keep me company?"
Patrick, who was laughing with a group nearby, walked over just in time to catch Art’s comment. He gave Art a look of mild disapproval, then turned to you with a sly smile.
"Don't listen to him. He's just trying to get you alone so he can talk your ear off about his latest tennis game.” Patrick shrugged, looking at Art with a smirk. "So boring. I was thinking we could have some real fun; you know? A little adventure never hurt anyone." He leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the music. "Besides, I know all the best spots around here. Private spots. You'd love it."
Art shook his head, clearly not amused. "Come on, Patrick. We're here to enjoy the gala, not to sneak off like we're in high school. Why don't we all just enjoy the party and see what happens?"
Patrick grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Art. But if you change your mind,” he turn towards her. “You know where to find me. I'll be the one having a good time." He turned to you with a suggestive wink while walking backwards to god knows where.
Art rolled his eyes, then smiled at you in a more relaxed manner. "Sorry about him, he’s not really allowed to leave the house. He's a good guy, but he doesn't always know when to tone it down. If you want, I can keep him from getting too out of hand. I wouldn't want him to scare you off." He says mocking Patrick as he walked away.
You laugh full heartedly glancing at Patrick, who was already chatting with a couple of other guests, his flirtatious demeanor on full display. " Thanks so for watching out for me. It can get a little overwhelming with him around." You continued smiling.
Art nodded smiling, his expression kind. " I was thinking we could get some food, maybe hit the dance floor. What do you think?" Art suggested, leading the way. "I'm sure Patrick will join us once he's done charming the entire room."
Patrick shot Art a mischievous look but didn't follow immediately. You could tell he was reveling in the attention, his flirtatious behavior attracting more than a few curious glances from the other guests.
The band switched to a slow, romantic melody, and Art extended his hand to you with a charming smile. "Care to dance?" he asked, his eyes warm and inviting.
You nodded, accepting his offer, and he led you onto the dance floor. His touch was gentle yet confident as he pulled you close, swaying to the music with practiced ease.
As you danced with Art, you felt yourself relaxing into his embrace. His presence was comforting, his movements smooth and graceful. You couldn't help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling a somewhat new sense of closeness.
Halfway through the song, Patrick appeared out of nowhere, a cocky grin on his lips. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
Before you could respond, he swept you away from Art, taking you into his arms with a boldness that made you some type of way. His touch was hot, his body pressed close to yours as he guided you across the dance floor.
"So, you replacing your best friend with that ginger?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive. "Boring you to tears yet?" He raised a brow.
You laughed, unable to resist his playfulness. "Hmm maybe. He's actually a great dancer, unlike some people."
Patrick smirked, pulling you even closer. "Yeah, but can he do this?" With a sudden flourish, he spun you around, his movements fluid and confident. "Do I need to remind you why I’m better.” He paused.
“How, I’m better.”
You chuckled rolling your eyes, enjoying the thrill of dancing with Patrick. He was unpredictable, to say the least, his smile contagious. But as much as you were drawn to him, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for leaving Art behind.
Patrick reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering you one with a sly grin. "Care for a smoke?" he asked, lighting his own with practiced ease.
You just shook your head with hesitant smile. “I really shouldn’t, Pat. You know I’m trying to quit.”
He looks you up and down with a seductive look.  
“We’ve all got our guilty pleasures, darling.”
As the song came to an end, Patrick took your hand, leading you away from the dance floor and out onto the club’s private beach. The cool breeze off the ocean felt refreshing against your skin, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing.
You hesitated for a moment, then accepted the offer, taking the cigarette from him and inhaling deeply. The nicotine hit you like a rush of adrenaline, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.
"So, what do you think?" Patrick asked, his eyes searching yours. "Having fun yet?"
You nodded, feeling a sense of liberation wash over you. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for... you know, stealing me away." You added motioning to the cigarette.
Patrick grinned, leaning in closer. "Anytime, sweetheart. Just say the word, and I'll whisk you away to paradise."
You laughed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.
Patrick decided to sit down in the sand, his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. You sat beside him, savoring the familiar scent of his cologne.
He took a long drag from his cigarette, then shot you a sidelong glance. "You know, I was just thinking about that first summer at tennis camp," he said, his voice low and playful. "I mean, it's where it all started, right? Just a couple of kids swinging rackets and making trouble."
You smiled at the memory. "Yeah, it's crazy to think about how much has changed since then. Who would've thought you'd actually make it big in tennis? Meanwhile, I could barely keep the ball on the court."
Patrick laughed, a warm, hearty sound that cut through the night air. "Yeah, well, I guess I had a little more motivation to stick with it. You were off climbing trees and playing in the woods, and I was stuck with a bunch of coaches yelling at me to hit harder."
"Hey," you replied with a smirk, "it's not like I was useless. I remember showing you all the best spots to hide when you wanted to skip practice."
Patrick nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I remember. You were the queen of avoiding responsibility. If it weren't for you, I'd probably have become a strait-laced tennis prodigy. Instead, you dragged me into the wilderness to make forts and find weird bugs."
You both chuckled, reminiscing about those lazy summer days when tennis camp was more of a suggestion than a requirement. But then Patrick's expression turned sly, and he leaned in a bit closer.
"Speaking of weird things from our past," he said, his voice dripping with playful insinuation, he nudged you. "You remember that bet we made? The one about if we were both green by the time you turned 16, we'd, you know, be each other's first?"
Your face grew warm at the memory. It had been a silly bet between two best friends who figured they'd never find anyone else in their small circle. But the fact that you followed through with it made it more than just a joke.
"Yeah," you replied, pretending to be nonchalant, "I remember, Pat we’re not that old. It was a dumb bet, but I guess we kept our word, didn't we?"
Patrick nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his lips. "We sure did. And you know, I wasn't expecting it to be so... memorable. I thought we'd just laugh about it later, but it was kind of nice. You know, like a rite of passage or something."
You laughed, trying to deflect his innuendo. "A rite of passage? Yeah, right. More like a hilarious disaster. I mean, you had no idea what you were doing."
Patrick raised an eyebrow, his grin growing wider. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad. Besides, you were just as clueless. At least I managed to keep my cool, mostly."
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile at his cockiness. "Mostly, huh? If I remember correctly, you tripped over your own shoes and nearly fell face first."
Patrick groaned, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Okay, maybe I was a little clumsy. But you have to admit, it was an experience neither of us will forget. And hey, we did it together. That's gotta count for something, right?"
You nodded, feeling a mix of nostalgia and fondness. "Yeah, it does. I'm just glad it didn't ruin our friendship. It could've been awkward, but it wasn't."
Patrick leaned in, his gaze locking with yours. "Of course it wasn't. We were best friends. We still are. And besides, even if it was a bit awkward, it was worth it. You know, just to say we did it." He flicked the ash from his cigarette, then added with a wink, "And hey, I was your first. That's something not everyone can say."
You laughed, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head. You still have a long way to go before you become a pro. But if you need any advice on how to avoid tripping over your own shoes, I'm here for you."
Patrick grinned, taking a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the sand. " If you ever want to make another bet, I'm always up for it. " He Looks at you seductively, his eyes full of mischief. " I think if you were to give me another chance, you’d find that I’ve improved quite a bit. " He gives you his signature smirk.
You scan his face trying to find sincerity in his words, not sure how you’d feel if he was. “What are you trying to get at Patrick?”
“Nothing at all.” He raised his hands in a surrender, cigarette in mouth looking away. “I’m just saying, I feel like I deserve a redemption arc,” He takes his cigarette putting out in the sand. “I wasn’t the most…giving you can say.” He looks back at you, under his brows. “And I just want to show you that I’ve changed, for the better.” He offers a smile.
You just nod your head in fake agreement. “Uhh, how much have you had to drink tonight pat?  Is it time to call you a cab?” You questioned with a week smile.  
“Oh, shut up, I’m dead sober.”  He said leaning in.  He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Besides, what's life without a little adventure?"
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. It was a simple gesture, but there was something in the way he did it that made your heart skip a beat. Patrick had always had a way of pushing boundaries, but tonight, he seemed more deliberate, more intent.
"Adventure?" you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Are you planning something?"
Patrick's smile grew, his eyes locking with yours. "Maybe. But you know me—always full of surprises." He stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your waist. "But I promise, it'll be a good one."
You felt a rush of heat at his touch, the closeness between you stirring something deep within. Patrick leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. "So, do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.
You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "No I don’t, Patrick, because I know you. Why? What are you up to?"
Patrick's gaze grew more intense, his eyes fixed on yours. "I just wanted to try something." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through you.
The kiss deepened, the heat between you building as Patrick pulled you closer. His hand slid around your waist, holding you firmly as he kissed you with a newfound intensity. The sound of the waves seemed to fade away, replaced by the pounding of your own heart.
Patrick's other hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet assertive. His kiss was slow and deliberate, each movement a carefully orchestrated dance that left you breathless. As his lips moved against yours, you felt a rush of desire, a connection that seemed to transcend words.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with emotion. He looked at you, his lips slightly parted, as if he was trying to read your thoughts.
“Show me.” You said looking him deep in his eyes barley a millimetre away from his lips.
“Show you what darling?” He question with a smile gracing his lips
“How you’re better than Art.”
That’s not what he was expecting at all. Maybe a ‘show me how you’ve improved.’ But certainly not you using his own words against him, That’s for sure.
That didn’t stop Patrick's smile from getting bigger though, as he moved his hands all over you, bringing you in for another wet and sloppy kiss. He slowly laid you down into the sand using his teeth to slide up your dress around your waits.
He slowly kissed your stomach stopping at the hem of your thong. Moving it to the side, he slides one of his digits up and down your slit.
Looking up to you with a sly smile, he lets out a contented sigh. " Give me some of this sweet pussy." With the excited flattening of his tongue, he dives right in, right there, on the beach. Before you even having a chance to fully lay down, Patrick slides his arms beneath your legs and pulls you in. 
As you begin to grind into him and yearn for more of his tongue, you play with one of your tits. Suddenly too shy to look him in the eye, you reach down and tug on his hair. You can feel your cheeks getting hot with shame at how quickly you folded for him.   “Tongue fuck me, please, Pat. When did you get so good at this?”
 he consumes you. his hands are playing with your ass and thighs. He kneads the skin and spreading you out. He trust his tongue into your entrance and explores your pussy.  Less than a minute later, your walls start to twitch around his tongue. He takes in all your cum. When he looks up back at you, he just gives you a sly smirk. 
Patrick rolled onto his back beside you, his chest heaving slightly from the intensity of what just happened. You try to get your breathing back to normal when suddenly you let out a random laugh.
Patrick turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "What's so funny?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, but his face still wet from your essence.
You shrugged, trying to stifle your laughter. "I don't know, it just hit me—how did we end up here? One minute we're at the gala, and the next we're... well, doing this." You gestured at the beach, and your unruly appearance.
Patrick grinned, rolling onto his side to face you. "Maybe it's fate," he said, his voice soft and playful. "Or maybe it's just because I couldn't resist pulling you away for a little... private time." He winked, his cheeky grin only growing wider.
You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest. "Or maybe it’s because you and Art have a weird little bet going on, and for some reason, I’m in the middle of it." you replied, a teasing edge to your tone.
Patrick frowns sitting up to look at you properly. " You know about that?" He’s confused.
You let out a chuckle. "Patrick, I’m not a dumbass, like i said, i know you. And i know Art, you guys have been total try hards for the last week, sure, you’re just a whore and will flirt with anything that has a vagina, but even Art was over doing it." You swatted at his shoulder, trying to hide your smile. "Patrick, seriously," you said, though your tone lacked any real reprimand. "You always push your luck, you know that?  You leaned in a little closer, your eyes locking with his.
Patrick's grin softened, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Yeah, well, sometimes you need a little excitement," he replied, his hand resting on your hip, a gentle reminder of his presence. "And you can't deny that you like it when I take charge. Right?" His fingers traced a light pattern along your hipbone, his touch both playful and suggestive.
You sighed, the subtle tension between you becoming more palpable. "Maybe," you replied, your voice low and teasing. "But don't think I'll always let you get away with it. Sometimes, you need to earn it."
Patrick laughed, a deep, rich sound that seemed to carry on the breeze. "Oh, don't worry," he said, his eyes narrowing with that familiar mischievous look. "I'll work for it. You just let me know when you want me to turn on the charm." He leaned in again, his lips hovering near yours, the warmth of his breath a tantalizing invitation.
You closed the gap, letting his lips meet yours in a brief, soft kiss. It was playful but laced with an underlying intensity, a promise of more to come. When you pulled back, you saw the surprise in his eyes, followed by that trademark grin.
"Consider it a preview," you said, giving him a gentle nudge. "But don't get too cocky, or I’ll make sure you lose this bet."
------------------------
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clusterbuck · 2 days
Text
yo no puedo saber
7x07 coda
Buck is halfway through getting thoroughly trounced in Mario Kart for approximately the seventy-third time when his phone, resting on the coffee table, lights up with a text. He hits pause on the game, and Christopher turns to frown at him.
“Afraid you’re going to lose again?” he asks, and Buck laughs. 
“No, I just need to check my phone real quick,” he says. “You can finish destroying me in a second.” 
“Ooh,” Christopher says, a mocking edge to his voice. “Did you get a Tinder match?” 
Buck rolls his eyes. “I have a—”
Boyfriend, he was about to say, but the word can’t seem to make it out of his mouth. He can’t quite tell whether it’s because it feels unfamiliar, like he’s not sure it really belongs to him, or just because he and Tommy haven’t actually discussed it. 
But this doesn’t really feel like the time for that particular existential crisis.
“I’m not on Tinder,” he says instead, reaching for his phone. He would just ignore it, wait until Christopher finally agrees to go to bed before scrolling mindlessly through his phone, but the preview that flashed on the screen looked long. Like it might be serious. 
Several possibilities race through his mind, but none even come close to what he sees when the screen lights up again. 
Hiii, Marisol has texted, and he can practically hear the nervous laughter in those repeated letters. Sorry if this is weird, I know we haven’t really talked! But Eddie gave me your number in case of emergency, and I’m kind of having one. Not a real emergency! Don’t want to trigger any first responder panic, ha ha. But Eddie’s birthday is coming up soon, and I can’t decide what to get him! You know him well, so I thought maybe you could help me…?
Buck stares at the screen. 
He’s not always great on dates, but he’s pretty sure texting someone else about your date is generally frowned upon. Texting in general, really, unless—maybe Eddie’s in the bathroom?
Still, it doesn’t seem like a good—
“Buck,” Christopher says, forcefully, like it’s not the first time he’s tried to get his attention. “Can we play?” 
Buck blinks. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, setting his phone back on the coffee table. “Yeah, sorry.” He restarts the game, and immediately falls far behind Christopher’s Yoshi.
“Who was it?” Christopher asks, and Buck laughs.
“You’re not going to distract me that easily,” he says and gains some ground, only to immediately get hit with ink to the face and lose it all again.
“I don’t need to distract you,” Christopher says just as he crosses the finish line. Buck makes a mental note to ask Eddie where the hell the kid got his comedic timing, because it wasn’t from either of his parents.
“Yeah, yeah,” Buck says. “New round?” They pick a course, and as they’re waiting for the countdown to start, Buck’s phone lights up again with what looks like a link, presumably to something Marisol wants his opinion on. Another one comes through when they’re one lap into the course, then another, and another. Almost like Marisol is sending them to him as she finds them.
Which… really doesn’t sound like date behaviour.
so how was your date? Buck texts Eddie when Christopher goes to the bathroom an hour later.
anything you want to tell me? he types, then hits the back button and watches the words disappear letter by letter. There could be a reason. There could be all kinds of reasons. 
But later, when Christopher goes to bed and Buck checks his phone again, Eddie hasn’t even opened the message. 
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oneforthemunny · 2 days
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YAY MY FIRST TIME DOING THIS GAME!!!
Rockstar!eddie, rehab, angst (because I have been think of this concept all day)
starting the day off strong with some angst! tw bc it does mention drug abuse and some darker kinda themes.
"Eddie Munson," Eddie looked up from the guitar he'd been strumming towards the nurse- no, the holistic helper at the door. They didn't use words like that here, not at this rehab.
"You have a visitor here." She nodded, giving a soft smile.
Eddie set the guitar down, tucking the pick back between the strings, following the woman down the long hallway of the center. The music room was where he spent most of his time these days. He'd tried hiking and the spa once he'd finished detox, but always came back there- his own oasis in his own personal hell.
"We're going to go back to your room for this meeting, if that's alright with you, Eddie." The nurse smiled gently.
"Fine with me." Eddie grumbled, his shoulders feeling heavier and heavier with each passing step.
Ninety days, it's what he agreed to. He felt better after twenty, but he'd finish it out- for you, for your girls, his family that he'd fucked selfishly. His stomach turned at the thought.
"And, there's no limit on this visit today." The nurse stopped before she opened the door. "So no need to feel pressured to rush."
Eddie's brows furrowed. It was Gareth, maybe Jeff, he knew it was. They were the only ones who came to visit him anyways. Still, he grumbled in response, turning the knob to his room. It was nice, a private suite that felt more like a hotel room than the prison cell it'd become.
"Hey, man, didn't know you were coming by today. I've been working on some stuf-" Eddie's breath hitched, falling flat in the air when he turned.
It felt nearly like a mirage, like he might have been dreaming, hallucinating that you were here. Here, on his bed, sitting too rigidly to be comfortable, arms wrapped around yourself.
"Working on stuff?" You hummed, eyes barely meeting his and he didn't miss the way you swallowed. "What kind of stuff?"
"Y-You're here?" Eddie croaked, shutting the door with a harsh snap. "Wha-What are you doin' here, baby?" Every bit of his being screamed to hug you, hands tingling and twitching- itching to feel you, to hold you.
You shifted uncomfortably, finger running over your ring finger out of habit. Eddie nearly threw up when he saw you'd gone without your ring, he wondered how long ago you'd stopped wearing it.
"Um, Gareth came by the other day to see the girls." Your eyes cut to Eddie at the mention of them, how his face nearly crumbled at the thought. "He told me you'd been doing much better. Told me you were scared straight."
"Yeah." Eddie nodded. He was frozen, unable to move, so he stood in the doorway. "I am. I-I..." There was a million things Eddie wanted to say. He wanted to drop to his knees, beg for your forgiveness, for mercy, for anything.
"He," Your voice cracked, turning your head politely to the side to compose yourself. So prim and proper, Eddie's heart leapt at the action- he'd missed it so fucking much.
"He also brought me your letter." Your lip wobbled at the mention, pressing them tightly together to keep yourself from bursting into tears. Ten pages, front to back, with scribbling, tear soaked, inked ramblings about his feelings- poured his heart out onto those pages. Everything he'd ever wanted to say in his entire life, there on those pages, his whole bleeding heart.
"He did." Eddie sounded relieved, shoulders slumping, rounding with the weight of everything he'd kept in for so long.
You nodded slowly, watching him carefully from your own perch. "The girls made you some things." Your voice shook with your hands when you reached in your bag, piles of drawing and scribbles they'd made for Eddie.
Eddie looked at the colorful papers, just a glimpse in your hand, choking on a sob that was tearing mercilessly through his chest. "I, um, I didn't bring them today." You barely met Eddie's eyes, hand smoothing over the construction paper. "I didn't think you'd want them to see you like this."
"No," Eddie shook his head, tears falling down his stubbled cheeks. "No, I-I don't. Thank you."
The air was thick between the two of you, an unsure uncomfortable feeling that left you both on ease. Eddie finally sobbed when your hand brushed his, passing the drawings to him.
"I'm-I'm so sorry." Eddie broke, teeth gritted, trying to swallow back his own cries, hand holding yours tightly. "I don't-I don't know why I-I fucking did that. Why I did it to you, a-and to the girls, and fuck- I don't know why-" Eddie's sobs choked his words.
You knew you shouldn't have, that you should have stood strong, colder and meaner. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but you couldn't- not when your own heart was shattering all over again. So you held him, arms wrapped around his torso, body moving towards his in that familiar way. Your puzzle piece, you two fit so well. His arms hugging you tightly, nearly crushing you into his chest like he wanted you to fuse to him. Eddie's face pressed to your head, wetting your scalp with his tears, nose rubbing into your skin babbling apologies over and over again, promises that he would keep, that you hoped he would.
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shanastoryteller · 3 days
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Happy birthday!! Can we please get a continuation of Sacrifice is Free, or anything Untamed or Naruto? Thank youuuu
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
Obviously keeping Lee from being squashed like a bug is a higher priority than her secrets, but right now she’s really cursing Gaara for putting her in this position. Specifically, in her father’s office with her parents and the three saanin. It really feels like Orochimaru shouldn’t be here, at least, but he followed Jiraiya and no one had stopped him.
“It’s not a big deal,” she says, arms crossed. “I’ve seen you do it a million times.”
“It’s an intense burden on your chakra coils,” her father says, frowning.
She stares, biting back the retort she can feel on the tip of her tongue.
“I think she knows,” Orochimaru says dryly. “Seeing as she’s done it.”
“You be quiet,” Minato orders. Orochimaru rolls his eyes.
Kushina grabs onto her arm, tugging on it in a way that makes her want to pull it out of her grip and escape out the window, but she knows better. Her father knows she can do the Flash now, but obviously he can to. She’s pretty sure she can’t outrun him. “Honey, why did you – you can’t, it’s dangerous, you really shouldn’t strain yourself like this-”
“It’s fine,” she says. “Mom, relax. It’s not like I do it all the time.”
Where people can see her, anyway.
“You could be hurting yourself,” she insists. “Tsunade, come here, take a look at her.”
Naruto takes a step back, but her mother doesn’t let go of her arm. “No thanks. I’m fine. I didn’t even get hurt in my preliminary match.”
A ninja from Grass that she almost felt bad for. It was more effort to not make it look so easy than it was to defeat him.
“Pull up your shirt, Naruto,” her father says. “We should take a look at your seal. Just in case.”
Her blood goes cold. Before she can think up an excuse, Kushina is yanking up the hem her orange long sleeve to just below her chest. “Mom!”
“Is it bothering you? Are you feeling okay?” she asks, not even looking at her, instead staring at her stomach. She almost asks if her mother is asking the Kyuubi or her, but that would be a bad idea for several reasons.
She feels bad about this, but she pulls away from her mother, prying her hand off of her arm. “The seal is fine.”
“Here, this will only take a moment,” Jiraiya says, hand outstretched.
She’s debating using the Flash to get away, even though she knows that will just make everything worse in the long term, when Orochimaru flash steps to directly in front of her, blocking them all from getting to her, and presses his cool hand against her abdomen. She feels chakra moving against her skin and she’s about to shove a kunai in either his hand or his skull when he steps back and says, “The seal is fine. You’re all over reacting. Can we move on now?”
Naruto can hear her pulse pounding in her hears, fear and confusion swirling inside of her.
“Orochimaru!” Minato snaps.
Jiraiya puts an arm on her father’s shoulder. “I’ll just take a look-”
“As if you know more than I do,” Orochimaru scoffs.
Jiraiya’s mouth drops open. “I’m a seal master!”
Orochimaru raises an eyebrow. “Everyone in this room is a seal master. You’re not special.”
Naruto doesn’t move a muscle. He’s obviously not talking about her. Right?
“You can’t just put your hands on my daughter!” Kushina shouts, as if that’s not exactly what she’d been asking Jiraiya and Tsunade to do.
It quickly devolves into an all out shouting match between them. Naruto edges towards the window then slips down, quickly darting between buildings. Anyone looking for her will expect her to take the roofs.
Orochimaru couldn’t have created that distraction for her on purpose, could he? Why would he? He doesn’t even know her. Maybe he’s not as a good a seal master as he thinks he is and he really hadn’t noticed anything off about her seal.
Everyone always looks for her at the Uchiha compound first, and recently the second place they look is the Harunos. Any of her friends are too obvious and she doesn’t really feel like giving some ANBU the slip right now.
She heads to the apartments near the academy and knocks on a small apartment on the third floor. The door opens and she takes a step forward, resting her forehead against his chest. “Hi. Can I hide here?”
They’ll forget about it or get too distracted to care after a couple hours. At most a day.
Iruka sighs and curls his arm around her back, tugging her into a hug that settles almost all her irritation at once. “Of course, Naruto.”
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softspiderling · 6 hours
Text
god, it's brutal out here | r.c.
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summary:
“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”
“She doesn’t want me.”
“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”
OR; 5 times your friends share their unsolicited opinions about your and Rafe’s break up.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: mention of c*caine
word count: 5,4k
author’s note: the long awaited sequel of so obsessed with your ex! this can be read as a standalone fic, but there are little easter eggs hidden all over, which will be more fun if you read the first part! it's a little bit longer than I had planned, but there was no way around it. I hope you enjoy it so so much!!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
I Wheezie
“Hey Wheeze.”
You had accepted the facetime without looking at your phone, keeping it rested on a shelf while you were halfway into your closet, trying to find a dress.
“Does Rafe have a new girlfriend??”
Pausing, you shut your eyes, letting out a silent exhale before you picked up the phone, giving Wheezie a wry smile through the camera.
“Nice to see you too.”
The girl only looked at you, unimpressed and her arms crossed. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, knowing you didn’t have a way out of this conversation. Grabbing your phone, you sat down on your bed.
“Yes, Rafe has a new girlfriend.”
“I knew it!” Wheezie shrieked, throwing her arms up, and you only shook your head in exasperation. The tendency for drama clearly was in the Cameron genes. Wheezie frowned, getting closer to your phone as she looked at you.
“Why am I more upset about this than you are?”
You bit back another sigh. “Because Rafe and I are broken up, Wheeze. He’s allowed to date other people, matter of fact, I’m really glad that he has moved on.”
“Bullshit!”
“Wheezie!”
Wheezie rolled her eyes, but she sat back down, crossing her arms over her chest again. “I don’t like her.”
“You don’t even know her,” you sighed, rubbing your temple, feeling a migraine coming on.
“This is crazy!” Wheezie exclaimed. “You and Rafe never should’ve broken up in the first place! Rafe is probably only dating her to make you jealous so you’ll take him back.”
You couldn’t help but snort at that, Wheezie clearly watched way too many rom-coms. She frowned at you.
“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny, this is, like, super un-funny.”
“Because, Wheeze,” you started, plucking a feather out of your pillow. “This isn’t some 90’s rom-com where I see Rafe with Rebecca and suddenly a sad song is playing. This is real life. We are broken up.”
“I still don’t understand why.”
“Remember when we used to fight all the time? And I was just always sad?”
Wheezie was quiet, her lips still pursed. “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. Couples fight all the time, doesn’t mean you just have to break up.”
“Yes, couples fight all the time and they don’t have to break up, but it was the right decision for me and Rafe,” you said, your tone final. Wheezie looked at you, her frown slowly smoothing down.
“If you say so,” she muttered, not quite convinced. She stared down at her chipped finger nails, before she looked up again. “Can we still talk?”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course we can still talk, why wouldn’t we?”
“I don’t know… I mean, you’re gonna find a new boyfriend and maybe he has a younger sister as well and then I’ll just be your ex’s younger sister.”
“Wheeze,” you said, fondly, knowing where she was coming from. You had been in her life for most of her teenage years, it must be weird not having you around anymore. “We’ll still talk, no matter if I get a new boyfriend or not, even if he has a cool younger sister, or even three.”
Wheezie smiled, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re so dumb.”
“Yet you still want me around,” you teased. “How about you, Sar and I go get some ice cream and then to the movies this weekend?”
“Sounds good,” Wheezie replied with a big smile. She paused when someone called her name from somewhere in the house, before she turned back to her phone. “I gotta go, Rose needs me. I’ll text you later.”
“Alright, Wheeze. Talk to you later, be good.”
Wheezie waved into the camera, before the facetime ended. Your smile dropped and you tossed your phone on your bed with a sigh, letting yourself fall back on your bed. Even six months after the break up it was still hard to talk about Rafe, and now that he had a new girlfriend, you thought it’d be easier to get over him, but all it did was hurt more. It didn’t help that Rafe was still texting you every now and then. Nothing scandalous, just small texts, but you never replied. You both agreed on no contact after the break up, because you thought it’d give you a better opportunity to heal. You should’ve known he’d break it. Picking up your phone, you unlocked it, swiping to your messages.
Rafe [11/30/23: 1:43 am]: couldn’t sleep. remember when we took out the boat at two am bc we both drank a red bull at ten?
Rafe [11/30/23: 11:22 am]: sorry, i was drinking. didn’t mean to text you. hope you’re doing good
Rafe [12/25/23: 2:44 pm]: merry christmas. it’s weird without you.
Rafe [01/01/24: 01:02 am]: happy new year’s.
**Rafe [01/05/23: 9:56 pm]: **are you really not gonna text me back?
Rafe [01/27/24: 3:07 am]: i miss you
Rafe [02/12/24: 12:05 pm]: saw you at the party last night. you looked so fucking pretty. took everything in me not to talk to you.
Rafe [03/01/24: 7:12 pm]: idk if you care or not, but i still wanted to let you know. i’m seeing someone
You never replied to any of the texts, knowing it was for the better. You could block him, but you never brought it over your heart to do so, telling yourself you wanted him to reach you in case of emergency, but deep down, you didn’t want to block him.
Just incase.
II Barry
“Want some C?” Barry asked as greeting, presenting Rafe a small baggie with white powder in it as soon as he walked onto the lot.
“Nah,” Rafe declined, already feeling jittery enough without it, “Won’t say no to a beer though.”
Barry let out a grunt, tossing the baggie on the table, disappearing inside the trailer. Rafe took a seat in one of the chairs, running his hand over his buzzed head, bouncing his leg nervously. He had needed to get out of the house for a while. Ever since Rebecca pulled the picture out of the drawer, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Again.
Which is fucked up, really. He thought he got over you, he didn’t want to be the guy who thought about his ex while having a whole ass girlfriend. The door to the trailer opened with a slam, Barry exiting with two beer cans, handing Rafe one of them. The can was ice cold in his hands, and the cold liquid helped with his racing heart. He let out a sigh, rubbing a thumb over his eye brow. Rafe took another gulp of the beer, almost drinking the entire can in one go, while Barry watched him, assessing.
“You good?”
Rafe nodded, setting the can on the table.
“Yeah, jus’ stressed.”
“Work, or…?”
Barry trailed off without finishing his sentence and Rafe didn’t answer, wiping a finger over his jaw, which was clenched to the max.
Barry eyed him skeptically, leaning back in his chair. “How’s Mrs. Country Club?”
Rafe let out a loud sigh, tipping his head back, like he always did when he was annoyed with Barry.
“Barry, I don’t know if all the drugs you’re taking are starting to get to your memory, but we broke up.”
“Don’t be fucking rude,” he said, kicking Rafe’s chair. Not hard enough for it to tip over, but hard enough for Rafe to grip onto the arm rests, glaring at his friend. “How’d you know I wasn’t talking ‘bout your new girl?”
“Because you always call her Becky,” Rafe pointed out, giving him a look.
Barry shrugged, taking a sip from his beer. “You still know who ‘m talking about, so what’s the problem?”
“Problem is, it’s disrespectful. You know that’s not her name.”
“You’re still hung up on your ex while dating Becky, so who’s really disrespecting her?”
Rafe’s head shot up and the glare he sent Barry was deadly.
“Fuck this shit, and fuck you,” he snapped, pushing himself up from the chair, but Barry grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“Boy, sit down.”
Rafe scowled at him, before sitting back down, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. He did not come all the way out to the cut to get called out like this.
“If you came here to be coddled, you went to the wrong person.”
“I don’t need to be coddled,” Rafe muttered with an eyeroll. “Just wanted to let off some steam.”
“So?” Barry snorted, waving his hands around. “Steam away.”
Rafe scoffed, scooting down in his chair, shaking his head. “Do you think I want to think of her? I fucking hate feeling like this. Bex is nice, and she’s hot. And yet-”
“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”
“She doesn’t want me.”
“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”
“Nah, you don’t fucking get it, “ Rafe sneered, leaning his head in his hands. And he didn’t, not really. Which really wasn’t his fault. Rafe just didn’t want to talk about the break up with his friends. Physically couldn’t. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t told anyone why you broke up. Just made it feel all to real, he guessed.
“Nah, you’re right, I don’t,” Barry said, shaking his head. “All I know is, one day you’re all fucking sunshine and the next you’re more emo than that Friday girl.”
“What?” Rafe asked, lifting his head to stare at Barry in confusion.
Barry waved him off. “You know, that freaky girl from Netflix with the black lipstick.”
“Do you mean Wednesday?”
“Yeah, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, all the same to me,” Barry huffed. “Point is, life’s too fucking short to do things that don’t make you happy.”
“Bex makes me happy.”
Barry gave him a long, hard look, squinting his eyes at him. “Yeah, right. Whatever makes you sleep at night.”
Rafe stared back at him before shaking his head, finishing the last of his beer before crushing the empty can in his hand, declining to answer, because he knew he couldn’t convince Barry.
He wasn’t even convinced himself.
III Topper
top [05/03/24: 4:06 pm]: gonna be at alex’s later tonight with rafe and rebecca just fyi if you wanted to come
mrs. rafe [05/03/24: 4:57 pm]: k, thanks for letting me know
—— NEW MESSAGE ——
top [05/04/24: 1:37 am]: can you pick me up?
It was Saturday night, a little past your bedtime for a night in. You were getting ready for bed, exiting the bathroom when your phone buzzed in your hand. Lifting it, you read the new text, not quite believing he’d make you do this. What the fuck was he thinking asking you to pick him up? Shaking your head in disbelief, you typed out an answer.
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: topper no
Before you could put the phone away, your phone already buzzed with an answer, and you nearly didn’t want to read whatever lame ass excuse he came up with, your hand stilling when your eyes flit over his text.
top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: please, i don’t want to get a ride with rafe and rebecca
top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: she asked me so many questions about you and i can’t be around rafe rn or i’ll tell him
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:45 am]: … fine
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:47 am]: you’re so annoying
Cursing Topper and yourself for not going to bed sooner, you put on a sweatshirt and grabbed your keys and purse, typing out another text before you headed out of the house, getting into your car.
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:49 am]: be there in ten
top [05/04/24: 1:50 am]: omg i owe you <3
Barely ten minutes later, you pulled up in front of Alex’ house, looking out for Topper, before you spotted him underneath a tree. You rolled to a stop next to him, giving him the most unimpressed look.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Topper groaned, getting into the car, shutting the door behind him.
You rolled your eyes, pulling off the curb without another word, driving towards Topper’s house.
“I’m really sorry for asking you to come get me, but Rafe was looking for me and I had too much to drink already to lie in his face,” Topper said, leaning his back against the headrest, shutting his eyes.
You desperately wanted to know what Rebecca had asked but you didn’t want to come off as the nosy ex, even if this was Topper. So as nonchalantly as you could, you asked: “What did you talk about?”
“Jesus,” Topper said, running a hand through his hair. “She asked me how you guys broke up and wanted details, too. Was super insistent, I was kinda scared actually.”
Okay, so just normal sussing out the ex, you could deal with that.
“What did you say?”
“That it was a mutual break up and I didn’t know why you broke up, just that you suddenly disappeared from each other’s lives.”
You sighed. That was the vaguest answer you’d ever heard.
“Why didn’t you just tell her why we broke up?”
Topper glanced at you, his brows knitted together.
“How can I tell her something I don’t know?”
“What?”
You slammed on the breaks, nearly sending Topper flying through the windshield because the idiot hadn’t buckled up, while you stared at him.
“What do you mean you don’t know why we broke up?”
“I don’t!” Topper exclaimed. “Rafe refuses to talk about it and you never told me either.”
“Because I assumed Rafe has told you! It’s been like six months!”
Blinking at Topper, it took you a few seconds to process, jumping when someone honked their horn at you, when you remembered you had stopped in the middle of the street.
“Shit,” you muttered, shifting gears to keep on driving, eyes flitting to Topper repeatedly.
“So…” he started. “Why did you guys break up?”
You gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, letting out a deep breath. When you had left to come pick Topper up, you hadn’t expected having to tell him why you and his best friend had broken up.
“I was getting so worried about him. He was so stressed about the company every day, took home so much work and Ward was breathing down his neck to keep the numbers up. I told him that I thought he should take a step back, maybe take a break or something, tried to convince him of going on a trip or something, but the more I said, the more he seemed to be pushing himself into work. It got so bad that we were fighting basically every day, and it just wasn’t working anymore. It felt like we were going in circles.”
You cleared your throat when you felt yourself getting choked up, vision turning a little blurry from the tears in your eyes.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Topper exclaimed, patting himself down, looking for some tissues.
“Don’t worry about it,” you snorted, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You were so wrapped up in trying to retell the break up, you hadn’t even noticed that you already reached Topper’s house. “I shouldn’t even still be getting so worked up over this after all this time,” you sniffed, turning your car off.
Topper looked at you, with that typical look on his face and you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe Rafe hasn’t told you.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I think he might be in denial about it.”
You scoffed at him, shaking your head. Why was everyone so hung up over your break up?
“It’s been six months.”
Topper didn’t reply, his hand on the car door and you expected him to bid you good bye, but that was too easy.
“… Do you think you guys will get back together?”
“He has a girlfriend, Top.”
“Still. I don’t think that Rafe and Rebecca are gonna last very long.” Topper looked at you, pressing his lips together, before shaking his head. “Sorry. Thanks for coming and for getting me home. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
You nodded, giving him a small wave, and waited until he got out of the car, shutting the door behind him, before you turned your car on, pulling off.
“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the rest of the tears off as you drove home.
IV Kelce
“Kelce!”
Kelce looked up from the pool table, a smile growing on his face when he saw Rafe come down the basement, his friend wrapping an arm around him for a brief hug.
“Happy birthday, man,” Rafe said, handing Kelce a bottle of the expensive whiskey he always drank when he was at Rafe’s but too stingy to buy it for himself.
“Ah shit, you didn’t have to,” Kelce uttered, though his eyes were sparkling as he looked at the bottle in his hands. He handed the pool stick to one of the guys next to him, leading Rafe to the bar. He grabbed two glasses from the shelves, pouring Rafe and himself a good amount, offering one of the glasses to him.
“Cheers to you.”
The two clinked their glasses, before sipping on the whiskey. Kelce really enjoyed it, too, with the way he closed his eyes, and Rafe only snorted in his glass. Kelce peaked his eye open, shoving his friend fondly with a grin.
“Rebecca here?”
“Yeah, upstairs.”
Kelce hummed in thoughts, nodding absentmindedly. He stared into his glass, swishing the amber liquid around before he spoke up again.
“You know she’s here, too, right?”
Rafe tensed, knowing exactly that Kelce was talking about you, but he had expected it. Firstly, because you and Kelce had always been friends, and secondly because he had heard Sarah making plans with you to go together. Didn’t mean this felt any less of a punch to the gut. He really hoped he wouldn’t run into you, because he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do; all he knew was, that Bex wasn’t gonna like it. Rafe cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.
“I figured, yeah.”
“That okay?” Kelce asked, and Rafe was starting to get annoyed, rolling his eyes. Why was Kelce questioning him about you on his damn birthday? He tried to dampen his anger though, not wanting to ruin the night.
“Yes. It’s your birthday, man.”
As soon as those words left his mouth, Rafe knew he did a shit job of hiding his emotions, and Kelce eyed him suspiciously.
“I don’t get you guys,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got a new girl, but you still haven’t gotten over your ex, clearly, but every time I mention her, you act like it’s the worst thing in the world, but neither of you have said a bad word about the other.
Rafe scoffed, though his heart started to race at the thought of you talking about him. He wondered what you had said, if you cared enough to ask about him, or if you had long moved on.
“Are you ever gonna tell me why you guys broke up?”
“Maybe next time.”
Kelce gave him a wry smile, knowing this was Rafe avoiding the topic again. He lifted his head when more people starting coming down the basement, curling his hand around Rafe’s shoulder to give him a squeeze.
“I really hope you figure it out bro, because this right now is not it.”
He then excused himself to welcome the new arrivals and Rafe gripped his glass, before downing it in one go.
“Alright, who wants to get destroyed in a round of pool?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he approached the pool table. Anything to stop himself from going upstairs to look for you.
V Sarah
“Oh my god, I thought you were gonna keep talking to her forever!”
You gave Sarah a look. She hadn’t even waited a minute after you left Rebecca on the couch before she started talking about her.
“I don’t have a problem with her.”
Sarah groaned, linking her arm with yours as to not lose you in the crowd that has formed in Kelce’s house. You were glancing around, hyper aware that you could run into Rafe any second, but you didn’t want Sarah to notice.
“I don’t understand how you can be so chill. Did you not see the picture she had in her purse?”
You sighed, brushing your hair back over your shoulder. Was this ever going to stop? “Sar, please.”
“Hello?? That was super freaky.”
“Maybe she was just cleaning up and wanted to throw it in the trash and forgot it in her purse.”
Sarah laughed dryly, shaking her head. “Bullshit! Admit that you find it weird.”
“Okay, maybe it is a little weird,” you admitted. “But don’t you do things that are a little weird sometimes? Maybe she’s just a little insecure. Which I wouldn’t blame her for, you’re so mean. Shouldn’t you try and be her friend or something?”
“Why? She’s not gonna be around much longer anyways, and I already have a friend.”
You rolled your eyes, fishing your keys out of your purse to unlock your car. Again with the sentiment that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t gonna last much longer. You decided against deeming that statement with an answer and got into your car, with Sarah getting into the passenger seat.
“Do you want to grab some burgers?” She asked, buckling up, like you hadn’t just told you that your ex and his new girlfriend weren’t gonna last.
You gave her a look as you tossed your purse to the back.
“What do you mean do I want to grab burgers? I thought you wanted to leave because you’re meeting John B early in the morning.”
Sarah blinked at you, before she reached out to give you a shove on the forehead. “I was lying so we could get away, stupid.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, starting your car as Sarah protested.
“What? I was getting weirded out by you being all besties with Rafe’s new girlfriend. I don’t even understand how you can be so nice to her knowing she’s all up on your man.”
“Pray tell, who’s my man again?”
“Don’t even,” Sarah huffed. “You guys dated forever, I know you still love each other. And let me tell you one thing,” she said, raising her eyebrows at you. “If you got a new boyfriend? Rafe would not be this nice to him like you were to Rebecca.” With that, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, settling back against her seat.
You only sighed, starting your car in silence.
“Do you want to get burgers now or not?” you asked, extending a peace offer while looking over at Sarah. She glowered at you, before nodding with an eyeroll.
“Yes.”
BONUS + I Rafe
“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”
Rafe pushed the pasta on his plate around with his fork, too engrossed in his thoughts to even think about eating. He didn’t even notice how Dennis had stopped talking. Rafe looked up from his plate, only to see Dennis look at him intently, an amused grin on his face.
“Sorry, were you saying something?”
“I was saying a lot, but you seemed like you were on a completely different planet,” Dennis noted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Rafe winced, putting his fork down.
“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”
“I can tell,” Dennis mused. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Something like that.”
Rafe sighed, leaning back in his chair. Ever since you broke up, Rafe has been assuming that you didn’t care about him anymore, that you had long moved on from him and your relationship. He thought that you resented him, blamed him for the break up, which was honestly the main reason why he went back to the dating scene so quickly; to get over you. But hearing that you still cared about him? Enough to be nice to his new girlfriend and even ask about him? He wondered if there was still a chance for him and you to be together again.
If it weren’t for the fact that he already had a girlfriend.
“Can I give you some unsolicited advice, son?”
“Do I have a choice?” Rafe asked with a wry grin and Dennis only let out a belly laugh, shaking his head.
“Rafe, most relationships these days end because of your own ego, from both parties. No matter how big the fight or problem seems, will it really be that important in hindsight?” Dennis asked him. “How long have you an your girl been together? Almost 5 years, no?”
Rafe nodded, not daring to correct Dennis. He had never outright told him that you had broken up in the first place.
“See, that’s half a decade. I can assure you, in another half, you’re not even gonna remember this fight.”
Yeah, I don’t know about that, Rafe thought.
“Do you love her?”
Turning his ring on his finger, Rafe let out a soft exhale, before nodding. “Yeah, I do.”
“See. Problem solved.”
Rafe lifted his head to grin at Dennis.
“Thanks. Is it okay if we cut today short?”
“Sure,” Dennis said, waving Rafe off when he reached for his wallet. “Lunch is on me. Go get your girl.”
“I will,” Rafe promised, pushing his chair back to stand up. “I just gotta take care of something else first.”
BONUS + II You
You were staring at your phone, text thread with Rafe open. It was Saturday night; you and Sarah had went out to a small beach party. Sarah had gone to fill her drink back up and you had used that time of solace to overthink. About Rafe.
For the past few week, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And you blamed your friends for it, really. First Wheezie, then Topper and then Sarah? Somehow all of them said that the break up was the worst idea, and even though you had always second guessed the choice to break up, this was the first time you actually actively regretted it.
The way Sarah seemed so sure that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t going to last long. Maybe you were wrong and they weren’t as happy as you thought. But then again, it wasn’t any of your business, was it? Who were you to put your nose into their relationship?
God, you shouldn’t be doing this.
“How long does Sarah need to fill her drink back up?” You muttered to yourself, finishing your vodka soda and burying the cup in the sand next to you, when you heard foot steps approaching.
“Finally! I was about to send a search group out for you!” you exclaimed, standing up and dusting the sand off your lap. “Seriously, how long does it take for-”
You froze when you turned around just to see Rafe standing in front of you, instead of Sarah. Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him, caught off guard.
“Rafe, hey,” you said, opting for casual. “Sorry. I thought you were Sarah.”
The corners of Rafe’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, I could tell.”
You looked at him, sighing a bit wistfully (mostly) internally, before you shifted on your feet nervously. “It was nice to see you,” you said, and it was true. “But um… I think I’ll go look for Sarah.” You gave him a small smile, before walking towards, and then past him.
“You’re still worried about me.”
You let out a startled laugh, pausing mid-step to turn back to him. “What?”
“You told Rebecca that you were glad that I had her and that you worried I work too much.”
“Of course I’m still worried about you,” you huffed, brushing your hair back. “You can’t be surprised about that.”
Rafe looked at you, and you could tell that this was news to him.
“Rafe.”
Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “You didn’t reply to any of my texts. I thought you were mad at me or somethin’.”
“I didn’t reply to any of your texts because we said we’d do no contact for a while.
“Still,” Rafe muttered, kicking a rock. “I didn’t think it would be so easy for you-”
“And because you were happy with Rebecca, do you think it’s easy for me to see you with someone else?”
“I broke up with Rebecca last week.”
“What?!”
Mouth agape, you stared at him and Rafe only rubbed the back of his neck. “She… Wasn’t what I wanted.”
“Oh,” you only said, letting out a soft exhale. “I’m sorry about that.”
Rafe sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His gaze was trained on the floor for a bit, before he lifted his head to look at you.
“I want to try again… I want us to try again.”
“Rafe��”
You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide and you didn’t move as Rafe took a step towards you, reaching for your hand. Your fingers were cold in his but they quickly warmed to his touch, and the way he laced his fingers with yours, felt all to familiar.
“I love you. I never should have agreed to breaking up. It was arguably the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
“And what’s the stupidest?” you asked, corners of your mouth lifting.
“Not listening to you when you were just trying to help,” he answered, looking down at you, so vulnerable like you hadn’t seen him in a long time. “I rearranged my schedule at the company so I could take on less work, take more time off and relax. Take the time to get us to where we were before it all went shitty.”
Your heart was in your throat as you listened to him talk, unsure what to say.
“Rafe, I don’t know… “
“Baby, please,” he begged, squeezing your hand. “Do you love me, still?”
You scoffed. “That’s not fair.”
“Why? Because you do?”
“Of course I still love you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you know how hard it was for me to ignore your texts? To see you with another girl, so happy?”
Rafe shook his head, lifting his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wasn’t. Not really.”
You let out another sigh, looking at the way your hands were intertwined, how your heart had stopped racing, before you nodded, looking up at him. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
A smile spread across Rafe’s face, so big it was so uncharacteristic for him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
It was like that word switched a flip inside of him, as he grabbed you by your nape gently, to kiss you, slotting his lips against your, and as your lips touched, it felt like you were finally home again. You only pulled away to breathe, both of you staring at each other like you couldn’t quite realize this was happening.
Sarah [05/11/2024: 10:45 pm]: (sent to 4 contacts) [picture attached: blurry photograph of you and Rafe kissing at the beach]
Topper [05/11/2024: 10:46 pm]: thank god.
Kelce [05/11/2024: 10:51 pm]: FINALLY!
Wheezie [05/11/2024: 10:59 pm]: !!!!!!
Barry [05/11/2024: 11:02 pm]: read at 11:02 pm
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author's note: sooo.... what are we thinking?
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it hurts me. the chaggie hurts me s o good
Vaggie having been such a great murder soldier (one of the best exorcists) (battalions worth of dead souls piled under her lost wings)
but Protect Charlie and Support Charlie became so important to her (the revelation of reaching out to strangers to heal hurts instead of causing them) she for real got out of practice with actual physical fighting bc she was busy helping Charlie with the emotional battles instead-
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it feels so good.
it's such a big and happy difference, from vaggie the exorcist
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she's fighting for her girl every time she holds Charlie's hand and it's NOT what she's trained for or is always good at, solving people problems without just stabbing anyone who hurts Charlie or gets in Charlie's way- soldier life bleeding through even when Vaggie tries so hard- (a life lived with the kind of people who would use cutting out someone's eye and ripping off their wings as a solution to a problem)
but she says herself she wants to be Charlie's ARMOR. she could have said spear, could have said she wants to be the blade that cuts through all Charlie's problems-
she doesn't want that. Amor, something that stays close, something not meant to hurt, something that isn't a weapon. not anymore
even if it (she) isn't used to that yet
and you know what. maybe that's what getting saved by Charlie actually meant.
Charlie didn't pull her down from heaven- she wasn't the reason that Vaggie looked at a kid in hell and couldn't go through with sticking a spear in them
but without Charlie, Vaggie could still have been a spear raised and redirected towards heaven. even after years in a peaceful life Vaggie still reaches for her spear so quick, how fast on the draw would she've been if Charlie wasn't there? hadn't been there?
(if kindness hadn't pulled her out of that alleyway, would the chance for revenge at the next extermination day have gotten Vaggie moving instead? would the first dead angel have been found years earlier- or would it have been her- a loose end that didn't unravel quietly getting neatly cut away?)
that didn't happen. Charlie was out looking to help people on extermination day. she did find Vaggie
and with Charlie, the spear is a prop more than anything else. part of Vaggie yes, probably forever- not a NEEDED one though. an old instinct always at the ready while not having to be used much anymore.
life with Charlie is Vaggie carrying a spear, sure.... and also growing out her hair. not being used to fighting with it long, because she hasn't had to be fighting
she's still been able to fight for girlfriend anyway
Charlie isn't asking power or wins from her. that's not what the princess of hells needs.
Charlie needs the hand that holds hers during a hard call with her dad, the hug waiting for her when she comes back after a bad day, the soft smile not judging her for telling herself stories when she's sad- likes that side of her, actually-
the woman who knows every embarrassing personal thing about Charlie because Charlie trusted her not to make fun of it, trusted that Vaggie loved her
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Charlie needs the push of Vaggie's words telling her it's time to make that hard call to her dad in the first place, the later unshakable reassurance from Vaggie when Charlie breaks down crying before the battle (breaking down over not being able give Angel Dust the better life she promised, everyone in even more danger now instead)
and Vaggie (pragmatic, realistic, honest Vaggie) does not tell her that things will be okay and they'll win their upcoming fight- but that Charlie has already done so much.
if for no one else, then at the very least for Vaggie
Charlie really has, hasn't she. 'just' by seeing Vaggie as a person she saved her from being nothing but a soldier, a weapon, the hair trigger response of someone who learned trust on a battle field and had her body torn and scarred by the people she trusted-
but now Vaggie does the worst damage to the people who hurt her when she holds her girlfriend's hand. she grumbles but gives people chances, often stressed but just as often smiling in her new life with Charlie. she goes back up to HEAVEN (even though she really really doesn't want to) because her girlfriend takes her hand and askes her with big soft eyes and says they're partners- it's such a change from being a soldier following orders.
partnership is all Charlie's asking for
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and fucking HELL if Vaggie hasn't answered by being there in the darkest moments, tugging Charlie gently back into the light of their shared dreams and the reality of having someone there to share them with
and uh, also getting charlie to call her dad
....and.... yeeting random lit bombs out the nearest new hole in their hotel, when someone hands it to her gf and charlie gets sidetracked trying to politely juggle the thing...
.....
how DID charlie manage before she equipped the smol spear gf??
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Text
His Pet: Demon!Hongjoong x Fem!Reader
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Pairing: Incubs!Hongjoong x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairing: demon!wooyoung x Fem!reader, demon!Mingi x fem!reader
Word Count: 13k
Genre: hella smut, some angst MINORS DNI
Summary: at the end of her first day, YN spends her night with Master Hongjoong. It's only then she realizes just how different he is from his demon brothers.
Tags: master slave/realationship, bondage, BDSM, mentions of tabbo kinks (watersports/beastiality but it isn't graphic), restraints, sex machines, sex toys, anal sex, anal toys, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, edging, exhibitionism, dracyphilia, nipple play, nipple clamps, vaginal fingering, handjobs, quickies, dirty talk, pussy slapping, spanking with paddles and whips, whipped, humiliation, degradation, throat fucking, rough oral sex, double penetration, gagging, choking, cockslapping,
Previously on Pretty Pet > Next
***
The grogginess of sleep made you unaware of his presence. You rolled onto your other side, relishing in the cooler half of the bed without noticing him. Your mind clung to the dreamworld, reaching out for a mother you'd lost. Standing in your old bedroom, you saw the old toys and games. The movie and band posters you’d hung still remained on the walls. But, you only saw Her. She stood in the doorway with her warm smile and a glass of milk in her hand. 
‘Having trouble sleeping, angel?’ 
You crumbled onto the shaggy carpet. Every single regret poured out in tears. You begged her for forgiveness; for leaving her alone, for abandoning her, and cutting her out of your life. You knew how much she loved you, and you resented her anyway. You reached out for her, moving to touch her before long black claws pulled you away. The pain they left in your skin felt so real. The last few wisps of fruity perfume and trickles of warmth brushed off you as they drew you into the darkness.  
“Mama…” you groaned, slipping between your new bedroom and your childhood room. She was right there in the doorway, her hair and skin so much similar to yours. Maybe that was why he hit her. She reminded him of you, his biggest mistake. 
“Ma…”
“Is that another kink of yours?”
Instantly pulled from your dreams, you bolted upright to see Hongjoong standing by your bed. Arms crossed, he greeted you with an amused smile. After your bath in Seonghwa’s apartment, you came back to your room for a nap. You hadn’t seen the point in putting on clothes, so you’d fallen asleep naked. Yet, to Hongjoong, you might as well be wearing a sweater and pants for all the notice he took. Sitting up, you forced yourself out of sleep to fully take him in. 
“I personally prefer ‘Daddy’ when the mood strikes me,” he continued, “But Mama can be fun. Would you like me to wear a dress for that or-”
“-What do you mean?” You stammered, pushing hair aside. 
“You called me ‘Mama’,” he said, “Unless you're having dreams about someone else?”
“No, of course not.”
Hongjoong giggled, “Liar.” 
He flopped down on the bed beside you, groaning in relief as he sunk into it. You noticed he wore a regular black t-shirt and jeans, far removed from the sleek, polished look he'd sported before. The distinct smell of sweat and blood came from him, mixed with his sweet pheromone. You guessed he’d come straight from work. It equally disgusted but fascinated you.  
“Do you always have dreams about your mother?” He asked, eyes closed.
“Not always. Just sometimes.”
“Was it because of San? He says he's always wanted his own family, you know, outside of Seonghwa and me.” He scoffed, “It's boring and dumb.”
“I guess it was. Do you have those?”
“No. I don't even remember what my mother looks like. She popped me out and then walked away.”
“She did?”
“Yup,” he nodded, hands behind his head. “I saw her perhaps two or three times in childhood, but that was a long time ago. I have no idea where she is anymore. She stays up in the human world, corrupting and possessing souls.” 
“Do you miss her?”
“Can't miss someone you never knew. I suppose you knew yours?”
“I did, but I wasn't very kind to her when I grew up. I stopped talking to her after I moved out.”
“Is that why you asked her to forgive you?”
“Yes.”
“Hm, sad,” he said, but he didn't sound very sad to you. “You're here, so there isn't anything you can do for her. We're your new family now,” he put his hand on your thigh, gently brushing his thumb back and forth. “You be a good pet and do what we ask,” he yawned, “And we'll take care of you.” He laid in your bed a minute before he said, “And you'll obviously take care of us. Since, you know, you made both your handlers cum in minutes.”
“Master Seonghwa told me to-”
“-To give Yeosang a handjob, I know,” he said, hand sliding up your thigh. “But, did you have to torture poor Jongho? He's the youngest and sweetest of us and you tortured him with your beautiful body.”
“I didn't do anything he didn't want already. I turned around and there he was,” you shrugged. “I would've felt bad sending him away when he was already so hard.”
“So,” Hongjoong began, unbuckling his pants, “If I ever start jerking off in front of you, you'll let me watch?”
“Would I have a choice?”
“Not really, but,” he put his hand between your thighs, fingers grazing your sex, “It's not as if you'd say no. I have a feeling you like demon dick quite a lot.” He withdrew himself from his trousers, and you saw him already semi-hard in his hand. “Is it because they're longer or thicker or both?” 
“I'm not wholly sure, honestly,” you admitted, holding your breath as he began tracing circles on your pussy. You laid back on the bed beside him, so he had more access to you. “It just feels better.”
“You're not wrong there,” he chuckled, stroking himself in time with his touches on you. “I love it more than anything, personally. I used to fuck humans in the living world, but nothing quite beats demons. But, don't take that to heart,” he said, “I still love human pussy just as much. Particularly yours.”
You rolled onto your side, resting against him for a better feel of his hand. “And why is that?” You took him in your hand, earning a low groan. 
“Because you take my dick so well,” he said, sliding two fingers inside you. The both of you kept slow paces on each other, neither of you in a hurry, “Most human slaves have trouble the first time, but this right here fits around me perfectly. It's almost as if this pussy was made for me,” he pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, “Always wet and ready to be fucked. Is that why you slept naked? Were you hoping one of us would come here and take advantage of you?”
“I don't know what you mean,” you said, stroking him languidly. “This is when I'm most comfortable.”
“Good to know,” he said, keeping his fingers inside and rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Because this is how I want you when you're with me.”
“Nude and aching for you?”
He laughed, “The aching is optional. I want you naked all the time. Less layers means less to worry about.” He pulled fingers from you and did slow circles around your clit. “I can get to this right away.”
He captured your lips with his, the both of you moaning together. Hooking his hand around your knee, he pulled you up onto him. The sudden crash of his dick to your cunt added more pressure between your thighs. Carnivals. Fairs. Candy shops. 
The faint scent of cotton candy had you rutting against him. Hongjoong carried the sweet aroma that brought you back to childhood. It seeped into your pores and became one with your natural scents. You might as well feel drugged with how it added to your desires. You moaned each time the bulb of his cock pushed into your clit. A hand in your hair, and another on your thigh, Hongjoong kept you still as he grinded against you. Each time you tried moving, he laid a hard smack to your ass. 
“Stay still,” he ordered with a harsh slap, lips against yours, “Stay fucking still.”
“Yes, Master,” you whined, feeling his cock nearly press into your entrance. 
He continued kissing you deeply. Your fingers clenched around the pillow underneath him, you took every bit of strength to not hump him like a dog. Hongjoong, while smaller and skinnier than his brothers, carried the same strength as them. He kept you firmly pressed to him without a problem, and his smacks burned your skin each time. You whined and moaned into his mouth whenever his length slid over you. His mere grinding couldn’t scratch the itch inside you. Your walls clenched for him, trying to grab the head that constantly brushed close to it. Your hand slid up his neck to his cherry red hair, and you tugged in a way that made him growl. Hongjoong returned this by keeping you dangling over that frustrating barrier of denial and relief. You could feel the thin ridges brushing your clit, making you gyrate into him involuntarily. 
“I said ‘stay still’,” he said between kisses, switching cheeks and slapping the left side. “Impatient whore,” he groaned, “Can’t even wait for cock.”
“I want it so badly, Master,” you whined in a kiss. “Please, let me have it. Please, please. I promise I’ll be good for you all night. Please.”
“You’re not being very good right now,” he noted, “With you grinding against me when I told you not to.” He made a few hard slaps on either cheeks, causing you to cry out in pain. “How do I know you’ll be good for me tonight?”
“I promise I will,” you said, forcing yourself to be still as he started grinding faster, “I promise, I promise.”
He laughed at your whimpering, “I don't think so. You're going to have to prove it. Lay down for me.”
You moved to lay on your back, lips crashing with his right away, when the door opened. Jongho appeared by the corner of the bed, doing his best not to notice your body or your position. 
“Master Hongjoong,” he said stiffly, “Dinner will be served soon. Wooyoung is here to dress YN for dinner.”
A bit of aggravation reached the pit of your stomach. You saw annoyance flicker in Hongjoong’s eyes before he turned to look down at you. 
“I suppose we will have to finish this later, Pet,” he said with a defeated sigh. 
“But, Master,” you pouted, “Can you relieve me at least a little bit?”
“I'm afraid not now,” he kissed you one final time. It was passionate and slow, tongues sliding and bodies molding together for a few brief seconds. “But, if Wooyoung or Jongho wish to help you get there, I won’t be opposed to it. A little finger or tongue action is just what my pet needs,” he pushed hair from your face and kissed you again. “You can tell me all about it when we’re alone tonight,” he whispered. 
You kept him close to you by his forearms, “But I only want you tonight, Master.”
He grinned, “You’ll have me, but I think I have an idea of how slutty our pet can get. I told Seonghwa it’s ridiculous to make you deny your own desires. You’re a pleasure slave. Seeking out pleasure is what you do best.” He pushed into you a few times, smiling in your next kiss. “So, do what comes naturally to you, slut, and enjoy whoever you like. My only rule is,” he squeezed both your breasts, “Nobody goes inside your cunt but us. Your holes belong to us, understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Tell me, why can't the others be in your pussy?” 
“Because my holes belong to my masters,” you said, knowing what he wanted to hear. 
He beamed, “You listen well. Good.” 
Hongjoong gave you another kiss while he put himself together again. Even when he finished zipping up, he kept kissing you. You suspected if Jongho did not insist, he would have given into his desires for you sooner. 
“It’ll be equally hard for me too,” he confessed, briefly kissing you, “But Seonghwa will bitch if we’re not at dinner.” 
He finally lifted himself off the bed, fixing his shirt and taking deep breaths. Jongho bowed his head as Hongjoong exited the room. The two of you alone, Jongho addressed you. 
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, “But dinner is an important thing around here. Master Seonghwa and Master San insist you be there and look your best.” 
“I figured,” you grunted, your arousal radiating between your thighs. You swore you could almost feel him still there; his thickness spreading you apart in each thrust before sticking it inside you. “But, did you have to come in right now?”
“I was ordered to,” he said, “You know how it is. Besides, it isn’t like he won’t do it later anyways. Come on. Bath time, little pet.” 
You slid off the bed, shaking Hongjoong from your system as you waited on Jongho to prepare your bath. Someone walked in right as you stepped into the water. 
“There she is,” Wooyoung beamed, two of his purple-clad assistants entering the bathroom, “I heard through the grapevine you had quite a time with San and Seonghwa. You must be something special for them to be so weak for you.” He looked in a mirror, nearly seducing himself as he fixed his hair around his upturned horns. “I’ve never seen them so excited by a human before.”
“She is special,” Jongho smiled knowingly. He’ll never forget your moment in the bathroom, which pleased you. 
“I hope I should be so lucky one day,” Wooyoung winked at you. “I’ve never had a human before.”
“Wooyoung, do not say such things,” Jongho said. “The Masters might hear you.”
“Ugh,” he rolled his eyes, “As if they haven’t thought about it. Everyone knows what a horndog Hongjoong is, and his brothers aren’t saints either. Sungmi, Kyla,” he called to the two assistants setting up a nail station in the bathroom, “Black stilleto shape with black rhinestones for tonight.” He looked down at you, putting you into a frame with his hands, “Yes, I have the perfect vision. You are going to be drop dead gorgeous when I’m done with you. The Masters won’t be able to control themselves.”
“Hopefully they’ll manage to keep it in through dinner,” Jongho said, running a thin, mint-scented oil in your hair. “Cook worked so hard on Master Seonghwa’s menu. It’d be a shame to see it wasted.”
Wooyoung came around the tub, and took over your hair from Jongho. Smooth fingers ran from the nape of your neck to the very ends, spreading the oil as much as your hair let him. Something sensual laid in these delicate touches. Wooyoung’s fingers continued briefly touching your neck, and you felt him staring down into the murky waters. You couldn’t help sensing that Wooyoung did not normally aid in the bathing portion of the process. When the both of them finally finished, your suspicions were proven true. 
“Wow,” he breathed, gazing down at your wet body, “Yeosang has every right to hope you're put in the greenhouse. Dennis can always use a few helping hands.”
“Wooyoung!” Jongho snapped, “She’s not for you.”
“Who's Dennis?”
“I know that,” he retorted, ignoring your question. “I’m only saying she looks good. I wouldn’t bother dressing her at all if I had her walking around my house.” 
“Ugh, you’re so obscene,” Jongho rolled his eyes. 
He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, drying you off quickly before sliding you to the nail station where one of the assistants sat. You rested back on the chair as the two assistants began cleaning, shaping, and painting your nails as instructed. The beaded patterns glittered whenever you wiggled your fingers. You never painted your nails black because of the rumors that it damages your nails. Yet, you admitted this had a nice effect. 
When they finished your nails, Jongho led you into the dressing room where Wooyoung stood. You saw more assistants plucking things off shelves and racks to present to their employer. Wooyoung stood by the vanity table, arranging makeup for you. He came over, lifting up your nails to examine them. 
“Well done,” he told the nail artists, “You may go.” They bowed and left the room. “Jongho,” he called to him, “Yeosang was in here a few minutes ago asking for you. He seemed a bit more heated than usual.”
Jongho groaned, “It’s probably about her bedtime routine. He’s so damn picky. I swear I wanna…Ugh!”
He disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Wooyoung waited for his assistants to finish putting an outfit together, then he dismissed them as well. Your body clenched when you heard him close the dressing room doors. The sounds in the room became stifled by the surrounding shelves and items absorbing them. He walked over to the vanity where he started working on your hair. You caught him giving you glances as he fixed your hair into his preferred style. He came around, picking up a bottle of foundation. You didn’t know how he got your exact shade, but you assumed ‘magic’. 
“You sure you’re not part demon?” he asked, applying foundation to your face with a brush. 
“I am.”
“You look like it,” he said. He added concealer next, dabbing it where needed. “You’re way too pretty to be a normal human. If you’re not a cambion, a half-demon, then somebody took a little more time with you for sure.” He lightly dusted a finishing powder on the base, then grabbed blush. “I don’t know if you noticed,” he put down the blush, and put his hands on your shoulders, “I’m quite fond of beautiful things.” 
Light fingers pulled at the opening of your robe. You had the urge to close it back up, but something about his touch stopped you. Like so many other human-presenting demons you’d met, a pheromone released from him in scents you liked. Wooyoung’s was the expensive Chanel perfume you once wore. You found it drastically unfair. He let your robe fall off your shoulders, and sighed at the sight of you. Goosebumps covered your arms as he dragged his fingers down your neck to your shoulders. 
“It must benefit you in so many ways,” he said in a mesmerized voice. He picked up a tube of lipstick, and applied it smoothly. “The power that beauty and sex appeal wield is astounding. Nobody likes to admit that pretty privilege is real, even in the underworld. The slaves with the prettiest faces and the nicest holes get better treatment over the plain faces. The succubi with the most delicious bodies make ten times more than any regular demon or human ever could,” He finished his work and observed you in the mirror. “Those who have a special preference for humans only pay top-price for the pretty ones…The ones,” his fingers traced your collarbone as he bent down to your ear, “Who can’t get enough of it earn the most and are the most expensive.” Finally, he reached your breasts, which he gently cupped. Your body instantly warmed at his touch.
“I learned a little bit about you from the slavers in the city. I casually mentioned that three of Prince Asmodeus’s sons recently acquired a human pleasure slave by your name. Some of them knew you from auctions where they’d been outbid, and other claimed they’d fucked each of your lovely holes…” he grazed your nipples, watching them harden against his fingers, “They say you’re perfectly broken. You don’t resist or refuse demon cock anymore, they said. Is that true?” he rolled your nipples in his fingers until you whimpered, “Do you prefer big demon dick over pathetic human ones now?”
“I do enjoy them,” you admitted, your sex starting to throb. 
“Gods…” he breathed against your neck, “I’d kill to fuck you right now. The most I’m allowed is the other holes and your pretty hands.” He smiled when you moaned, watching his hands grope your chest in the mirror. “Turn around for me. I want to look at you again before I have to dress you.”
On shaky legs, you faced him. Your standing position caused your robe to fall to your wrists on the table. Wooyoung drank in the sight of your body, licking his lips as he started playing with your breasts again. This new feeling reignited the stirring in your loins. Wooyoung’s hot tongue slid over your hardening nipples, the slippery tongue rapidly swirling around each one. When you reached for his groin, feeling him hot and hard in your hand, he moved closer to you. 
“You can take it out,” he whispered, “See what you could have with me some time.” 
You unbuckled and unzipped him, gasping at the large bulge poking through his underwear. “This is why I love demons so much,” you said, rubbing him with his own boxers, “They’re always so big.” 
“I saw how well you can take them,” he said, teasing your nipples. “I’d love to experience it myself one night.”
Wooyoung pulled down his boxers to free himself, and you started stroking him with both hands. He let out a long, drawn out groan as you worked him. He bent down to your breasts, and took one in his mouth. The tip of his tongue flicked over the peaks each time you reached his thick head. You let out a giggle when he started pushing into your stationary hands, grunting against your tits. 
“You really wish you could fuck me, huh?” you asked, putting his hand to your heat and smiling when he felt how wet he’d made you. “How often have you thought of wrecking my tight human holes, hm?”
“Ever since I watched you fuck them,” he groaned, holding your tits in his hands and pushing upwards. “You sounded so sweet taking dick until you couldn’t think straight. I wanted to run there and get a turn or two. But, I’ll settle for this right now.”
You gasped when two fingers slipped into you. Like Wooyoung, you began riding his hand and grinding your clit into his palm every so often. The two of you stayed by the table, grunting and moaning as you pleasured one another. He was right, of course. If you had no power on your own, your looks and sexual expertise can get you anything. Why should you not indulge in what makes you happy? As long as nobody stuck their dick in you, your masters did not seem to mind. At least, Hongjoong does not and you’re running on his schedule now.
“Keep going,” Wooyoung breathed, pushing his fingers to your hips while fucking into your hands, “Fuck yes, just like that. Keep fucking my hand like that.”
The two of you came together, hard and trembling in each other’s hands as you did. Spurts of white shot over your lower belly while you drenched his hand. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, while you leaned back onto the table. Finally getting the relief you needed, you did not mind when Wooyoung removed his fingers.
“Good,” he breathed, looking at your makeup, “I didn’t mess anything up. Let’s clean this and get you dressed, yeah?”
Business as usual. To Wooyoung, you might have not even given him a handjob. You cleaned yourself well enough to avoid discomfort later, while he started sliding you into a lace and satin lingerie set. Then, you pulled on a black silk dress that went to your feet. The backless, spaghetti strap number resembled the gowns you used to wear at fancier parties. It shimmered in black sequins, and gave a nice contrasting color to the silver snakes dangling from your earlobes. 
Jongho reappeared right as you slid your feet into matching heels. You knew right away he sensed something, but he refrained from saying anything.
“She’s ready,” Wooyoung said, spraying perfume around you. “They’re going to love her.”
Jongho led you out of the dressing room right away, “Mingi, take YN to the dining room. I have to talk to our resident stylist.”
Mingi nodded in understanding, then walked you into the hallway. Still recovering from your quick one with Wooyoung, you forced yourself to gain the energy to be around your masters. You imagined Jongho giving the stylist a harsh scolding for indulging his desires and making you late for dinner. If you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve wondered what the big deal about being a little bit late was, but you did know better. 
As you walked, you noticed Mingi. Long and broad, you expected him to make loud thumps when he walked, but instead he moved quieter than a shadow. You also saw he did not wear the armor or weapons most demonic bodyguards wore in palaces like the Black Keep.
“Where are your weapons?” you asked inquisitively. “Don’t big bad warriors wear loads of them?” 
“They do, but I got these.” He flicked his right wrist as a sharp blade poked out of his cuff. “I don’t carry heavy stuff. It slows me down and gets in the way. My job is to protect you inside the keep, so I don’t need anything but these.”
“So, if somebody breaks into my room-”
“-I’ll be prepared for that. I’ve been fighting most of my life, YN. Children of Satan are trained in combat from the time we’re very small.”
“Satan?”
“Prince of Wrath. He’s one of the seven princes of Inferno,” he explained. “You didn’t know that?”
“I’ll admit I don’t know much about this place. I sort of landed here and that was it.”
“Ignorance keeps the human population under control,” he said. “But, I’m sure Master Seonghwa will teach you.” 
“With the college schedule he’s giving me, I’m sure I will.” You both walked past the open windows, and you saw how in the darkness between each window, Mingi seemed to disappear. “What the…”
“I’m a shadow demon,” he said, answering the question you didn’t ask. “We blend into darkness pretty well. I got it from my mother.”
“Did you know her or are you like The Masters?”
“She was my mentor in school. She wasn’t very maternal, but she was at least there to teach me valuable skills.”
“Like how to blend into the dark?”
“Yes.” You then heard the smugness as he said, “I guess you can say shadow demons are born in the darkness.” 
“And what about the others? Do you know anything about them?”
“Yeosang is my half-brother through my father,” he said, “And Jongho isn’t royalty at all. His parents were trickster demons, which is how he’s able to sort of appear and disappear like he does. Yunho is a grandson of Prince Mammon, Prince of Greed, which makes him the perfect person to run a household’s finances,” he chuckled. “Wooyoung’s somebody’s great-great-great-great offspring of one of King Lucifer’s half-breed children, but I don’t believe that. I think he’s just another vain demon, focused on his looks all the time. I wasn’t surprised when I heard he screws people in a room of mirrors.”
“Huh, interesting.”
“And, you probably already know, but The Masters are sons of Asmodeus, Prince of Lust. Their mother was a succubi, hence why she’s not interested in being a mother to her sons,” he said, guiding you closer to the dining room.
You pitied the three brothers. Your father might have been a mean bastard, but you had your mother, the nicest woman you’d ever known. If she’d left, you’d face your father’s rage all alone. As you reached the dining room, you recalled your dream. Even with a battered face, your mother took care of you. She was the shield between you and your father. She sacrificed for you, and you called her pathetic and weak, promising to never be like her. You wondered where she was, as you sat in your seat at the table, and if she was okay. Your father died years before you did, which left her alone.
God, you’re a cruel bitch. 
All three masters sat at the dining table. Clearly, they’d changed from their work clothes into dinner clothes. You’ll say that your masters showed dedication to their aesthetics. Seonghwa wore a ruffled shirt with a red-wine cravat pinned with a dark ruby brooch; San kept his button down shirt and tie neat and crisp, while Hongjoong wore a satin black shirt unbuttoned halfway with black pants. A hearty spread laid out on the table, with wine cups being regularly filled by nearby maids. 
Jongho served you himself, placing a piece of salmon with an apple and kale salad; he added a bread roll before pouring you white wine. You noticed your masters feasted on different meals: San had a protein packed plate of steak and eggs, while Seonghwa ate from a light pasta dish. Hongjoong had nothing on his plate, but instead drank red wine. 
“-Hongjoong, you must eat,” said Seonghwa, twirling pasta on his fork. 
“I am,” said Hongjoong. “I’m eating grapes.”
“I mean food, Hongjoong. You’ll need energy for tonight. At least some bread and butter if you won’t-oh, Hongjoong, you are such a child.”
Hongjoong produced a bag of chips from nowhere, and munched on them pointedly. “Anyways,” Hongjoong continued, “As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me-”
“-Hmpf-”
“-I told him if he wanted to escape Inferno, he should have stayed a regular mayor instead of becoming a dictator,” Hongjoong shrugged. “The man ordered the deaths of millions of people, tortured political prisoners, stole and cheated his allies and is surprised he is in Hell?”
Seonghwa snorted, “They don't think it's real until they're dead and sitting in your chair.” He quietly ate more pasta, then dabbed at his mouth. 
“What did you do to him?” San asked curiously before chewing a piece of steak. 
“The same things he used to have done to the people he imprisoned,” Hongjoong replied. “I figure he has a day or two more until he's broken. Then he'll be shipped to wherever he's supposed to go.”
“We had a similar guy in the arena today,” San said. “A murderer who killed dozens of women for years. He said he was sorry and wanted to earn his way out.” San snickered, “Nayeon took him out in seconds. She takes enjoyment in the men, I've noticed.”
“Likely because they're scumbags,” Hongjoong suggested. “Anybody win today?”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “Not a single one. But, the crowds don't like it when they win, so it works out.”
You chewed quietly on your dinner as they continued discussing work. It was when Hongjoong shifted in his seat casually that you felt his hand on your knee. A piece of salad nearly caught in your throat, but you concealed it with a gulp of wine. 
“How was your first day, Darling?” San asked. 
“It was…fine.” Hongjoong’s fingers gradually pulled your dress up to your knees, bunching the skirt above them. You sat entirely still, and continued eating. He’d be excited to know this wasn’t your first under-the-table act. 
“Just fine? I like to think I made it a little bit better than ‘fine’,” he scoffed. “Especially with how I fucked you into the table.” 
“It has to be because of you,” said Seonghwa. “I know when I had her, she loved every second of it. Yeosang even helped.”
“Did he?”
“He cleaned her up for me, since I had to go back to work,” he said. “She worked him afterwards, and from what Jongho told me,” he smirked over a fork of pasta, “It was interesting, to say the least.” 
“How so?” Hongjoong asked, hand brushing your inner thigh. 
“He said the two of them berated each other the entire time,” he replied. 
“Ah, hate sex,” Hongjoong nodded in understanding. He glanced over at you, “Sounds like our pet has a range of different interests. I can’t wait to try them all,” he slid his hand back down your thigh, creating a warmth in your panties. “I bet it’s like one of those swirl lollipops. Every lick and bite has a different flavor to it,” he licked his lips and drank from his wine cup. 
Seonghwa finished a bite of pasta when he noticed the position. He caught your eyes, raised his eyebrows, and then smirked. 
“Can’t you at least get through dinner, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asked him. 
“I have no idea what you mean, Brother,” he said as he delicately pressed your panties into your sex. 
“Oh, I almost forgot!” San snapped his fingers, drawing Seonghwa’s attention from you. “Your collar. It came earlier today.”
“Ooh, yes!” Hongjoong said, giving you a quick rub before pulling away completely. “I saw Yeosang bringing it in.”
“My collar?” you recalled Jongho mentioning it to you, but you hadn't expected it so soon. 
San clicked his fingers, and Yeosang appeared in the corner in a puff of smoke. He held a black box between his hands, which he walked around and placed in front of you. You stared at the box in surprise. You gazed up to the three demons sitting in front of you. 
“Go on,” San beckoned, “Open it.”
You flipped open the clasp to find it sitting on velvet layers. Black lace with a rose pattern, three singular onyx gems hung from black chains. It was far more expensive than any collar you previously wore. When you examined it further, you saw a large onyx in the middle. On it, you saw they'd engraved a sigil of a snake wrapped around a thorny rose. 
“In case you get lost,” Seonghwa explained when you lifted the choker by the middle gem. “Everyone will know where to bring you.”
In case you got lost…
Or if you ran away?
“Here, let me.” 
Hongjoong stood up, took the choker from you, and clasped it comfortably on you. It was then that you saw it. Hanging from his belt was a black whip. A cat-o-nine tails whip reached from his waist to his knee. That whip likely welted and spliced lots of skin in its time. You wondered when he’d use it on you. Hongjoong ignored your staring and crouched beside you. He straightened the lace, and gems before admiring you. Soft fingers sent goosebumps down your arms as they traced the lace and tugged it gently. 
“Good thing it's elastic,” he said, thumb touching your jaw, “That way it won't break when I tug on it.”
“We will get you more as time goes on,” Seonghwa said. “But we wanted your first collar to be nice.” 
“How about dessert?” San asked, snapping his fingers for a maid to take his plate from the table. “Then maybe watch an arena fight. They broadcast them now.”
“Pet and I already have plans” Hongjoong said, looking you up and down, “So we'll pass tonight. Won't we, Pet?”
“Yes, Master,” you replied with the same seductive drip in your voice. He reached a hand to your throat, thumb ring cold on your warm skin, as he touched the collar again. “Does it look nice on me?”
“Very,” he said, sliding his thumb under it for a moment. “It’ll look better when you’re wearing nothing but this.” He inhaled your scent, and grinned, “Did someone have a little fun before dinner?”
“Maybe,” you said, turning to face him. “You did say I could enjoy myself.”
“I did,” he confirmed, still touching your neck, “With who?”
“Wooyoung. He couldn’t seem to resist me.”
He laughed softly, “Not many people can. I’m tempted to throw you on the table and pound you right here myself.” He brought you closer to him by the chin, thumb tracing your lower lip, “But then my brothers might join and I want you to myself.”
“As if she’d want just you after what I did to her today,” said Seonghwa. 
“And what did you do to her?”
“I made her squirt,” he taunted him, smiling cockily at him. “I don’t think she’s ever cummed so hard until she had my tongue and fingers. Imagine what my dick could do if I tried hard enough.”
“Pet,” Hongjoong pouted, “Why didn’t you tell me you could do that? Where was that last night? I think we did plenty to make you do that.”
“I don't know,” you answered, touching the wrist near your neck and rubbing gently, “It just happened. Don’t be angry with me.”
“I’m not,” he insisted, hand sliding across your jaw and bringing you to his lips. “The thought of it alone makes me hard,” he groaned. “That's my mission tonight. No matter how long we go at it, I'm making you squirt again.”
“I look forward to it,” you assured him, kissing him again. 
“I don't see the big deal,” San shrugged, sipping from his wine glass. “If you do it with me, that's great, but it's fine if you don't either.”
“Would you like me to do it for you, Master San?” you looked over at him, batting your lashes. 
“Absolutely,” he said, scooting his chair over to you. Like his older brother, he ran his fingers over your collar before kissing you. “I only mean if you didn’t, I won’t be a baby about it like Hongjoong.”
“I wouldn’t be a baby about it,” Hongjoong retorted. 
“You so would,” he remarked. “I only care about making you cum around me when I’m deep inside,” he said to you in a low voice. “I love bulging your tummy whenever I go deep enough.”
“I’ve noticed,” you said, “And I love you cumming inside me.” You pecked his lips. This. This is what you started enjoying: keeping them hanging on your words and giving into the natural instincts. You kissed him again before saying, “I love feeling full of you.” 
“Is that so?” Seonghwa stood behind your chair, hands on your shoulders as he kissed your ear, “I will admit it is hard to not be tempted by you, Kitten. I’ve never had a slave who so eagerly comes to me before,” he kissed your neck, “Honestly come to me, not because she was paid to do it.”
“How can I refuse when you treat me so well?” you asked, turning your head to look at him. “I can be a pain in the ass and end up back in a brothel, where I’m nobody. I can be defiant and get whipped every day-”
“-You say that like it’s a bad thing-” interrupted Hongjoong.
“-Or I can be a good girl,” you said to Seonghwa, locking eyes with him so he didn’t look away, “And be put in pretty clothes, eat good food, drink wine and have as much sex as my masters want. Mingi says you’re all pretty important people. I spent most of my previous life injecting myself into the lives of important, powerful people to get what I want. It’s really nothing I haven’t done before.” You touched the jewel pin of his cravat, lightly brushing under his chin. “As the saying goes, you get more bees with honey than with vinegar.” 
“And you certainly taste like honey.”
He kissed you first, cupping your jaw and opening your mouth slowly. San and Hongjoong looked on as Seonghwa’s tongue slid against yours, brushing your lower lip from time to time. 
“Too bad you’re with Hongjoong tonight,” he said, breaking away from you. “I’d love to make you cum like that again in my own bed.”
“As if you can’t do that any other time.”
The two of you laughed before Hongjoong interrupted with his own kiss. “You’re mine tonight,” he said, lifting you by the chin as he continued kissing you, “All mine.” He turned to his brothers, “You two enjoy the rest of your evening.” 
Turning with you in his arms, his lips went right back to yours. His hunger for you showed in the harsh kisses and soft grunts. He clawed at pieces of clothing until they nearly ripped, tossing them aside in the hallway. Fire ignited inside the both of you. You drowned yourself in his warmth and scent, as you’d done with his brothers. Being in his arms reminded you of all the random encounters you’d have in your previous life. The hot guys you met at bars or clubs often ended up in your bed late at night. This was the same except the man holding you up against the staircase landing was a demon. A demon who owned you now. He could do whatever he liked with you, and you couldn’t resist him. 
Not that you wanted to, anyway.
His thigh between your legs, he tugged down your bra and sucked your nipples firmly. He unclasped the garment, then flung it to a corner of the staircase before guiding you up the stairs to the second floor. Once there, against the railing, Hongjoong licked down to your panties and tore them off. By the time you reached the bedroom door, you were completely naked. 
San preferred bright, vintage colors. Seonghwa favored the decadence and refinement of old money. Hongjoong, on the other hand, embraced his demonic side. Crimson walls with black bat motifs flying around blooming roses covered the room from black border to border. Red cushions were upholstered by black wood, and black furry rugs covered the hardwood floors. On the walls, Hongjoong hung paintings of various erotic scenes and displayed statues of half naked figures in suggestive poses. You also couldn't help noticing the armoire pressed against a wall.
“Stay here,” he placed a few more kisses on your lips before leaving you for the tall wardrobe. He opened the top drawer, sliding on a pair of black latex gloves as he perused the contents inside. The aching he left behind felt cold and empty. “From the moment you step into my apartment, I want you naked the entire time. It makes things easier in the long run, you know?”
“Yes, Master.”
Standing in the cold room, you wished he'd let you stand by the crackling fireplace. The sudden heat he’d fanned died the longer he made you wait. You thought about touching yourself to keep it going, but that might upset Hongjoong. You looked him over once more. His whip hung from his belt loop casually, like a piece of jewelry or a fashion accessory. He likely wore it to scare the other servants in the house. It certainly sent shivers up your spine. When he finally made his decision, he brought out a wrist and ankle cuff set to you. Black with furry edges, you saw the loops on the inner parts of the cuffs. 
“Hold out your wrists.”
You held them out and he placed one on each wrist. Tightening the belt, he asked you, “Is it too tight?”
“No.”
“Alright, good. Your ankles.”
He put similar cuffs around both ankles, and he withdrew a matching leash from his back pocket. He clasped it to your collar. You worried the slightest tug might break the fine lace, but Hongjoong tested this with a few light pulls. Deciding it was durable enough, he wrapped the end of the leash around his hand. 
“This way,” he said. 
You went with him to the middle of the room where he could admire you in the firelight. Round eyes scanned over your face and body, as if truly seeing you for the first time. 
“You really are the most beautiful human I've seen,” he concluded, eyes clouded by lust as he continued eyeing your body. He removed his whip from his belt and walked towards you. He trailed the end of the whip from your cleavage to the middle of your thighs lightly, the touch making you shudder. “And so responsive too,” he sneered, “I like that.” He stepped closer to you, “I like the loud ones. Whimpering and whining always turns me on, but screaming? Crying? Pleading? That…” he huffed a laugh, “That gets me going.” He let the fringes of his whip swing over your thighs ominously. Hongjoong drew closer, lips pressed to your ear, “Will you scream for me, Pet?”
“If you…wish, Master.”
He chuckled darkly, sending more nerves up your spine. He waved his leather whip over your nipples next, pleased as they slowly hardened. 
“Don’t you have a schedule for me?” you asked, knowing it’d come sooner or later.
“Schedule?” he asked, confused. 
“Yeah, your brothers had these schedules for me to follow on my days with them. I thought you had one too?”
“Do you want one?”
“What else would I do on your days otherwise?”
“Me,” he said slyly, pecking your lips. “But, I suppose you should have some kind of structure. Seonghwa is always saying stuff like ‘idle hands make idle minds’ or something dumb like that,” he shook his head, “I didn’t really want much from you other than you submitting to me, which clearly isn’t going to be a problem.” He thought about it while he traced your curves with his whip, “Training could be a thing.”
“Training?”
“Anal training, throat training, pain resistance training, and something else,” he waved it off, “I don’t know yet.”
“You don’t have to give me one, if you’d rather not.”
“No, no, I’ll think of something eventually. You do need a proper routine,” he said. “All pets need good training. How else are you going to serve me properly?” An idea then came to him, “I can ask Yunho! He’s good at discipline and he’d love to teach you. Perhaps Mingi? But he might get caught up in the pleasure of it, and Yunho is bigger than him so he can train your holes properly.” He thought about it quietly, idly brushing you with his whip. “Eh, I’ll consider it. Sit with me for a bit,” he said, bringing you over to the loveseat in front of the fire. 
Pulling you onto his lap, he gently ran his fingers up and down your bare legs lazily. Coming up to your thighs, he gave the outer one a tender squeeze. His touch kindled the burning embers within you. You leaned to kiss him softly, tasting the leftover wine and feeling his tongue on yours. Kissing your masters quickly became your favorite thing.
“I feel like I’ve hardly scratched the surface with you,” he said, breaking away from you, “While my brothers find out all kinds of stuff about you.”
“What would you like to know?” you asked, already sensing the question. 
“Kinkiest thing you’ve ever done. Go.” 
“Ugh,” you thought about it with distaste, “You’d think it’s tame.”
“Tell me anyways,” he encouraged. 
“I had sex in my office in front of the big windows looking at the building across the street.”
“Hm,” he considered it, then said, “That is incredibly tame.”
“Told you. What about you?”
“Huh, I’m not sure,” he mused. “I haven’t really thought about it before…”
“Grossest thing then.”
“Golden shower?” he guessed. “We pissed on her.”
“Did you like that?” You hoped not. 
“Not really, no,” he shook his head. “I realized then I’m not into watersports like that. I don’t rag on people who do, but it’s not for me really.” He then thought for a moment, “I did jerk off to one of the maids trying to hold her pee in until she couldn’t hold it anymore and pissed on herself.”
“Gross,” you said with disgust. 
“I’m just saying I did it. I wouldn’t do it again, since the smell started bugging me, but I did it. Would you…Are you into that?”
“No,” you said right away. 
“You wouldn’t even want to try it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It’s gross, that’s why.”
“Huh…That’s a shame.”
“You said you wouldn’t do it again!”
“With her!” he elaborated. “I wouldn’t mind watching you do that. I’ll let you wear underwear for it, if you want-”
“-Ew, gross.” 
“You’re lucky you’re even getting a choice in that.”
“Anything you don’t like in particular?” when he did not answer immediately, you giggled, “That few things, huh?”
“Yeah,” he laughed, nodding as he continued thinking. You couldn’t help laughing with him. “Yeah, I think so!” The two of you laughed together until he said, “Animals, I suppose, if I have to pick something.”
“Really?”
“Why do you say ‘really’ like that?” He said, “Do you like animals like that?”
“Of course not!” you laughed. “I thought you’d be an animal guy.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Because you get turned on by the most vile things,” you said. “You seem like the kind of guy who tries everything at least once. I assumed animals were on that list.”
“I have,” he admitted. “Not personally, but I watched some people and it grossed me out too so I stole the horse and set their house on fire.”
“What did you do with the horse?”
“Set it free. This was in the living world, so I don’t know. He went wherever horses go, I guess.” He watched you laugh as he said, “I like to try new things. Sometimes those things are a bit ‘out there’. When you’ve been around as long as me, you get bored of stuff really easily.”
“So, you’re saying you’ll get bored of me?” you pouted cutely.
“Not at all,” he said, pecking your lips softly. “I finally have someone to test out new kinks with. We can explore things together and see what we like.” He felt up your side to your chest, brushing a thumb over your nipple, “There are so many things I’d love to do with you, pet.”
“Like what?” you moved from your sitting position to straddling his lap. You felt the seam of his zipper pushing to your pussy, and it reignited the flames. “I’d like to know unless you’d rather keep me in suspense.”
“I’d start off gentle, of course,” he said. “But, I’ve always wanted to try aquaphilia.”
“Aqua-what?”
“It usually involves like swimming or posing underwater, but I’ve always wanted to have sex in water, but we’re in Hell and there’s no fucking bodies of water in Hell!” he said sharply. “Explain how we have water for drinking and bathing, but there are no lakes or oceans or anything. How can I live out my dreams if my world is holding me back?!” 
“Can’t you go to the living world, though?”
“Every hundred years.”
“How long has it been since you last went?”
“Fifty!” he lamented sulkily. 
“You might be able to eventually…” you slowly ran your hands down his arms, letting him enjoy your soft touch. “It sounds fun.”
“It probably is!” He put his hands on your hips, his latex gloves smooth on your skin. Thumbs rubbing back and forth, he continued, “I'd like to fuck in a coffin one day.”
“A coffin?”
“Or a small closet,” he added. “You know, a confined space where we're trapped together? It'd be hot.” He moved closer to peck at your shoulder. “Have you ever done BDSM before?” He asked, kissing up your neck to your ear. 
“Not the way you likely do, Master.”
He chuckled, “I bet not. I imagine it was a little bit of rope or some light spanking?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like that?”
“At the time.”
“Do you think you’ll like it with me?”
“I know I will, sir.”
“Oh? How?”
“You sound like you'd know what you're doing,” you said, leaning closer to him. “And do I honestly have a choice?”
“Not really no,” he said, leaning to meet you. Inches from you, you saw the swirls of crimson in his brown eyes. Demon blood. A pure blooded demon. “But, doesn't that make it more fun? Knowing you can't say no to me?”
“For you, perhaps. I am your slave, sir. I can only do my best to please you.”
“Spoken like a broken slut,” he said proudly. 
“Do you like that?” You asked, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. “Or would you prefer I was the high-spirited sinner you like to break?”
“How about tonight,” he took your hand to hold and kiss, “You be a good slut and let me have my way?” 
“If that's what pleases you,” you said.��
“Oh, it'd please me greatly.” He gave your thigh a slight tap, “Come, let me show you around.”
He led you by your leash into a brightly lit room. Seeing the various bondage equipment and walls of sex toys and instruments, you saw the dungeon Hongjoong built. Long chains and ropes hung from hooks on the ceiling, and you gulped at the clasps hanging from the ends. Hongjoong loosened the leash to let you roam and observe the various pieces: the wooden horse, the chair, the x-cross, the stockade, and the tall cage with a smaller counterpart. Certain pieces of furniture had hooks nailed to them for sexual and practical use. You examined the wall of sex toys. Hanging from a bar, he displayed all manner of whips, chains, paddles and belts alongside a case of toys in various shapes and colors. Hongjoong no doubt planned on using all of these on you at some point. 
“What do you think?” He asked, playing with your leash around his hand. 
“It's extensive,” you answered honestly. You took out a long wooden switch he kept inside a vase in the corner. You bent it slightly just because you could. This would definitely hurt. 
“I like variety,” he answered.
You put the switch back. “Have you used all of these before?”
“At one time or another,” he said. “My brothers don't like it as much as me, but they enjoy my toy collection. San thought I didn't know that he’d steal my dildos and vibrators. I told him if he ever wanted to use one, he could ask and I'd gladly help.” You heard him walk up behind you, lips softly pecking your neck, “We can use them on him together sometime. If you're a good girl, I'll even let you use them on your own.” His whip sailed down your spine to the crack of your ass. He let it swish over the backs of your thighs, so you trembled. “San told me Yunho watched you two fuck this morning. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you fuck him too?”
“No. He only watched.”
“Hm, good to know.” He slid the handle of his whip over your ass and right to your sex again. “I'd love to fuck you in front of all of them sometime. They already go through peepholes around the house, but I mean doing it in front of them.” The ridges of the handle brushed over your slit once or twice, having you gasp when he pulled it back. “I'll let you pick tonight: where would you like it?”
“Your bed?” You asked, hoping it was an option.
“Then my bed it is. You go ahead,” he said, “I'll pick out fun things for us to use.”
You walked back into his bedroom, taking a seat on the corner of the bed. The soft crimson sheets and covers molded to your position, the fabric lightly pressed to your wet sex. You started grinding against the bed, eager for relief in the gradual motions. Hands cupping your breasts, you played with your nipples as you quietly humped the bed. It was then that someone appeared from the shadows. 
“-Master Hongjoong, I thought you should know…Oh, wow…” 
Mingi stood in the corner of the room, hidden halfway in the shadows before he stepped out of them. His eyes glued themselves to your naked body, illuminated by the fire near the bed. You stopped moving right away, removing your hands and keeping them at your sides. 
“Where’s Ma-Master Hongjoong?” he asked, gulping. 
“In the other room,” you answered, “Getting some things for me.”
“Is he?” he breathed, biting the inside of his cheek. “That’s…I will be going then. I’ll come back, um, later. You know, when you’re not…like this.”
“Does her nakedness bother you, Mingi?” 
Hongjoong entered the room, a black bag in one hand and a small wooden paddle in the other. Eyes twinkling with delight, he kept them on Mingi while he placed the items on the bed. He cupped your chin and kissed you, flicking your bottom lip and capturing it with his mouth. 
“Um, sir?” Mingi said bewildered, confused by the question. 
“The naked form is one of the most natural things in the world,” he said. He reached into the bag and withdrew a pair of small nipple clamps. “Just like sex. It’s part of who we are. Whether you’re a demon, a human, or something else, sexual desire is inherent. Our society wouldn’t exist without it.” 
He put one of the clamps on each of your nipples, creating a never ending whirl of pleasure. He guided you over to the headboard on your back. There, he attached your handcuffs to the middle where he'd nailed a small hook. He used belts to keep your knees attached to a harness he put around your waist. This made your lower half completely vulnerable to him. Mingi’s mouth opened at the sight of you. His eyes raked over you, seeing your tight ass and soaked pussy splayed out for his viewing pleasure. 
“Being naked is how we’re meant to be,” Hongjoong said, sliding his hand across your breasts to squeeze one of them. “It’s how pleasure slaves are meant to be,” he pushed back your hair, admiring your face as he pushed a thumb past your lips. He exhaled deeply at the lips sucking his thumb so willingly. “See? She has only been here a day, and she’s already giving into her natural instincts. She’s fucked both her masters, let Jongho and Yunho jerk off to her, and gave Yeosang and Wooyoung handjobs. She’s so eager,” his mouth opened when you stuck your tongue out for him to slide over, “And horny. So, I’ll ask you again, soldier: Does her nakedness bother you?”
“Not…Not at all, sir.”
Being tied added to the tension from your arousal. A bout of excitement hit you as you dreamed up his plans. You had your fair share of BDSM sessions, so you weren't a complete novice. Yet, something about Hongjoong's casual tone and the way he secured you comfortably told you you're in the hands of an expert. With you settled, Hongjoong's hand went down from your knee to your inner thigh. 
Hongjoong laughed, moving from your mouth to your center. “Don’t act like such a saint, Mingi. She isn’t the first slave you’ve helped me with before.” The smooth gloves kept a thin layer between the two of you, your wetness making it easier for him to slide around. You gave a soft whine, feeling his fingers trace your slit. “I know how much you like tying up those leftovers the servants get, and using them however you wish. I’ve seen what they look like afterwards.”
“That’s different, sir. Those are pleasure slaves from brothels,” he said. “She’s yours. I wouldn’t dare touch something that is yours.” 
“I’ve never been one to deny someone their most basic want,” Hongjoong grinned when you pushed your hips to his light fingers. “See? Pet isn’t afraid to give in to what she wants. Why do you hesitate?”
“As I said, she is your property. If it were a case of her being a leftover or a brothel girl, I wouldn’t.”
“Would you be content with watching, perhaps? I love an audience,” he rubbed his hand over your pussy a few times before giving it a sharp smack, “And so does Pet. You can even use the vibrator sleeves I have.”
“That would be delightful, sir,” he said, slowly moving to a chair and bringing it to the bed. He angled himself to sit across from you, “She is nice to watch.”
“Very. Now, what should I use first?”
“I think something simple,” Mingi suggested, “It is her first time.”
“Right you are.”
He withdrew a silver anal plug, and a bottle of lubricant. “I want you to stay put for me,” he said when he poured small droplets onto your pussy, then spread them further down. “Don’t move a single muscle, understand?”
He smiled when you nodded. You knew that would be almost impossible for you. He worked you up too much for you to hold it off. Using the plug, Hongjoong spread the lube from your sensitive clit to your clenching asshole. Breathing heavily, chest rising and falling, you anticipated the rush of pleasure coming your way. The pointed tip ran around your hole, smearing more lubricant before starting to penetrate you. A thumb rubbing your clit, it added to the mounting pleasure. You had the urge to move up into it, but your position made that difficult. 
“No moving,” Hongjoong said, giving your pussy a hard spank that only served to arouse you further. 
Hongjoong moved the plug little by little: he'd stick it halfway in before pulling it back out. Whether he did it out of caution or torture, either way you died for him to do more. He continued pushing the plug in and out, sometimes sinking it fully inside and other times halfway. You couldn’t keep still for him this time. The desperation flowed through you each time the toy filled you. 
“What did I say?” he asked, smacking your pussy two more times. “Huh? What did I say?”
“Not to move,” you sniffled. 
“Then don’t move. I won’t hesitate to flip you over and spank you. Do it again and I stop.”
“No, no,” you shook your head, “Don’t stop.”
“Then behave and do what I say.” He went back to the plug, groaning when he sunk it inside you. You nearly writhed in his hold, but you stayed firm against the bed. “She looks pretty like this, huh?”
“Very, sir.”
“Mingi, sit closer. You can't see how wet she is from there.”
Mingi sat at the edge of the bed. He stayed focused on your center, marveling at the anal plug nestled in you. You breathed heavily through your nose when you heard the buzzing of a vibrator nearby. An average size and the color of emeralds, the vibrator started where the plug sat. This turned the stable plug into its own vibrator, sending subtle sparks to your pussy. Your thighs quaked at the low humming, feeling it rumble up into your body from the small toy. Lifting your legs higher out of habit, the toy suddenly turned off. 
“Roll over, slut.”
“Master, wait-”
“-It seems I’m going to have to teach you how to follow orders.”
With impressive strength, Hongjoong rolled you onto your front. The position kept your face halfway buried in his pillows and your ass in the air. You gasped once something hard and cold made circles on your left buttock. Heartbeat pounding in your ears, your body tensed at the first soft hit. Fingernails pressing into your palms, you cried out as he landed a second spank to your right cheek. After three more hits, Hongjoong increased the harshness. The paddle, likely thin and long, covered both cheeks easily. You could feel its length in every spank. Some smacks later, he went harder. The repeated slaps left a stinging burn on your skin. They reach down to your thighs at some points. The pain only radiated your arousal more. Each time the hard wood hit your center, you received a little pleasure with the sting. Every spank rocked through your body, displeasing Hongjoong. 
“I told you not to move,” he said as he spanked you again, “And you’re still doing it. You slum sluts really are empty headed, huh?” You screamed as he made several hard hits, shaking in place. “I’m only going to keep going. I can do this all night.” 
You planted yourself firmly on the bed. Tears filled your eyes from the pain, streaming onto the satin pillow. You could feel your orgasm building from the continued hitting. He must have known the effect, since he occasionally slid the paddle up your dripping pussy before spanking it. Gripping the headboard chains tightly, you channeled the pain into your hands instead, holding them tightly to keep yourself steady. 
“And to think you told me you’d be a good girl,” Hongjoong scolded. “I’m not sure if you know this, but good girls do what they’re told.” He spanked you again, so hard it vibrated everywhere. “Bad girls get spanked and teased to the edge. Isn’t that right, Mingi?”
“Too right.” 
“So, what are we going to do, whore?”
“Be a good girl,” you whimpered, crying when he slapped your ass again. “I’ll be good. I promise, Master.”
“That’s what you said when you humped me like a damn dog,” he laid more spanks that had you screaming into the pillow. Sobbing, you held onto the chains until your knuckles whitened. “Promise me you’ll stay still. I can’t fuck you if you’re moving around like this.”
“I-I promise.”
The vibrator returned, the round head swishing lightly over your clit. The mixture of pain and pleasure worked deep in your core, having you moaning into the pillow. When a hand pulled at your hair, lifting your face from the bed, Hongjoong pressed the vibrator fully against you. He chuckled at the constant cries coming through your throat. He and Mingi listened as the volume and pressure had you either giving low hums or loud groaning. You screamed from the sparks the vibrator created when directly on your clit. Yet, the entire time, you kept yourself from moving even an inch. You still ached from the spanking, and the now position buried the plug deeper into your ass. When he rapidly moved the vibrator around, you wept openly at the overwhelming pleasure. 
Then, you heard the rough pulling of tape from behind you. Shaking your head, you knew exactly what your master had planned. The vibrator, likely an egg shaped bullet toy, stayed firmly inside you. Then, you felt the presence of paper tape across your thighs. The tape kept the egg nestled between your folds and created a new sensation. 
Hongjoong then whipped at your thighs and calves. You heard the crack of his personal whip on your skin, the tips slapping your tender flesh. Behind you, deep low moans started faintly reaching you. 
“You enjoy watching me hurt them, don’t you?” Hongjoong asked, amused by Mingi’s reaction. 
“I love…I love to hear them cry. Seeing them tear up as I’m spanking or whipping them just…Fuck, it gets me so hard so fast.”
“You hear that?” he bent down to your ear, tapping the egg with his whip, “Mingi likes watching pretty girls cry. Are you going to cry for him?” When you didn’t answer, he dug the bullet further inside you. “Are you?”
“Yes, yes!”
Quickly, Hongjoong unchained you from the headboard, and chained your wrists close together instead. Bringing you towards Mingi, he lifted your head so the bodyguard saw your tear streaked face. He pumped himself faster, moaning in every stroke as he looked at you. Hongjoong straddled your knees, removed your plug and filled your ass with something larger. Mingi groaned when he realized what Hongjoong had done. 
“Oh,” he breathed, “The tentacle one.”
Hongjoong cackled, “One of the longer ones I have. Her ass was so tight last night, it milked every drop out of me.” 
“Green-Gr-Greenho-house,” Mingi managed to get out, “You should take her there. She’d love it.”
“A very good idea,” he agreed, pushing the dildo in and out of you to create more pleasure. “I'll keep that in mind.”
You clung to the edge of the bed as the two toys worked together to bring you to the edge. Right when you thought you might combust, Hongjoong withdrew the dildo and shut off the vibrator. The squeal of frustration you let out amused both men. Mingi kept stroking himself and Hongjoong spanked your ass lightly. 
“You didn’t think you’d get to cum that easily, did you?” he mocked you, cackling at your shivering body. “No, no, no, pet,” he ran his hands up your back and into your hair, tugging at the roots on your scalp, “I’m having way too much fun to stop now. You’re cumming when I want you to.” 
He chained you to the bars above the bed, leaving you dangling from the middle bar in a kneeling position. From the bag, he withdrew a dildo attached to a small machine. Hongjoong slipped the flesh colored dildo between your thighs and pushed it up into you. Mingi and him moaned together when the small machine began thrusting the toy inside you at a steady pace. The absolute euphoria of it blinded you to all sense. The cooldown of your orgasm slowly heated back up as the toy pushed into your g-spot repeatedly. Hongjoong allowed you to quake and tremble above the machine, and enjoyed the effect the vibrating egg had when he turned it on. Tears came down your cheeks, and you wriggled around with hopes of being allowed an orgasm. 
It didn’t happen. Hongjoong raised the speed and he laughed when you pathetically begged for him to let you cum. 
“I don’t want to yet,” he said, grabbing his whip out of habit. Swinging it across your lower stomach, a few strips caught between your legs. When you jerked at the slight sting, he continued doing it. “It’s fun watching you scream for me,” he said, laughing through clenched jaws as he turned up the speed on both toys. “Scream,” he whipped you, “Scream for me!”
You tugged at your chains as an orgasm hurled its way towards you. Shaking and crying, you sobbed when he turned off your stimulants right at the last moment. “Master! Please!” you wept, your pussy feeling empty and painful from the fierce edging. 
He lowered your chains to bend you forward, your arms now behind you and suspending your top half from the bed. “Suck Mingi’s cock,” he said, “And I’ll think about it.”
Mingi did not hesitate to yank down his pants and kneel in front of you. Grabbing the back of your head, he sunk deep into your mouth until he reached your throat. The dildo began pumping in and out from this new angle, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning around the dick in your mouth. Mingi proved merciless like his master. Holding your hair back, he held you in place as he fucked your throat. He didn’t care about the constant gagging, the strings of drool or your throaty moans. He pushed in and out like any other hole in your body. This had you groaning and whimpering. You loved the feeling of being used. It felt nice to not think for a while. Being at the mercy of horny incubi brought you close to an orgasm again. Hongjoong tapping his own cock against your gaped ass hole nearly made you cum. 
You let out a yelp when he plunged into it, fists keeping him propped up as he took you. Having Mingi filling your mouth, the toy filling your pussy and Hongjoong in your ass left you a whining, mewling mess. This pleased both men, causing them to pick up their pace. When Mingi withdrew to let you breathe, he slapped his wet dick against your cheeks hard. The thick muscle burned your jaw and throat, but you wanted more. 
“Spit on it, slut.”
You spat on it, thick drool and precum sliding onto his head. You stuck your tongue out to receive it, but instead Mingi slapped you again on the opposite cheek. The sticky mess smeared on your cheeks, mouth and nose as Mingi whacked your face. Their shared laughter at your expense left you shivering. 
“Just another dirty hole,” Hongjoong grunted, holding you by the waist as he thrusted into you. “That’s all you fucking are at the end of the day: a pretty set of holes for us to use. You’re going to have a lot of fun here…So much fun…Would you like that?” he slapped your ass hard, “Huh?”
“Yes,” you said, the answer muffled by Mingi sticking himself back into your mouth. “Yes, Master.”
“She sounds cute when she’s being gagged,” Mingi moaned, returning to fucking your face. “It almost makes me wish she were another slum slut from the city. Then I could…I could fuck her however I wanted.”
“And how would you do that, Mingi?” Hongjoong pulled out of you, but turned on the vibrator still taped to your clit. Unable to push into the sex machine, you hung there and let it keep going. 
“Lock her in a cage,” he said, “And use her holes whenever I feel like it. Whip her. Shock her. Bring her to the edge over and over. Take her to the greenhouse…watch Dennis fuck her until she’s nothing but a broken bitch for me. That’s what I like, sir: broken whores who don’t know anything other than how to take cock.”
“We really are kindred spirits,” Hongjoong smiled. 
You don’t know how long they went at you. You only knew the two demons did whatever they could to keep you on edge, crying and screaming for mercy. When Hongjoong finally filled your pussy himself, he kept the vibrator going the entire time. Cradled in his lap, he pushed up into you while Mingi used your limp hand to jerk himself with. Both men knew exactly how to keep you hanging on. It’s as if they could each see inside your deepest desires, and twist them to their advantage. You thought the torture might never end. You thought you might simply be forced to near orgasm over and over until the end of time. Body gleaming with sweat, hair frizzy and messy, and the scent of semen and sex on you made you a pitiful sight. You could hardly stay up long enough to ride Hongjoong after a while. 
You never thought they’d let you cum until Hongjoong had you pounded into the mattress. Mingi, close to orgasm, toyed with the bullet attached to you as he stroked his wet cock. You almost did not want to for fear of them denying you again. Sobbing out of desperation, you laid there with your legs chained to the bars, your hand being used like a toy and let Hongjoong work himself out on you. 
“You can cum now, pet,” he said, bending down to finally kiss you. “I promise you can.” He lifted your hips and slammed directly into you. “You can cum, I swear. I want to hear you cum for me, baby. My sweet, slutty, empty-headed baby,” he kissed down your neck comfortingly, palming your sore breasts and playing with your clamped nipples. 
“N-N-No,” you wept. “You’ll take it away.”
“I won’t, baby,” he kissed down to your nipples. He removed one clamp to replace it with his mouth. “Cum for me.” 
Reluctantly, you allowed your climax to wash over you. Shaking, trembling, burning and aching, your moans could be heard from down the hall. That same strange shooting feeling from before happened. Clear cum shot and around Hongjoong's cock. You squirted again and this took Hongjoong to a new plane of bliss. Keeping himself balanced on one arm, he grabbed your tit and thrusted deep into you. You would’ve thought he wanted to ensure his semen rooted inside you. That alone prolonged your climax. Mingi, you saw, came with both of you, white streaks falling onto his exposed stomach. 
When the desire finally passed, Hongjoong unchained you. “Yun…Yunho,” he breathed out tiredly, “Yunho!”
In a single puff of smoke, Yunho appeared beside the bed. “You called, Master?”
“Bring water, a sponge, some healing cream,” he laid beside you, sweaty and exhausted, “Honeyed tea, and a snack for Pet. She’s…had a rough night.”
“As you wish.”
“You can go with him, Mingi,” Hongjoong said, eyes shutting. “You did well.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, Master.”
Mingi slowly slid off the bed, straightening himself up as he followed Yunho from the room. Alone with Hongjoong, you laid in the bed while he carefully removed the taped bullet. Lazily, he pushed all the devices to the side to be collected later, and used a hand cloth to wipe excess fluids from you. 
“Are you alright, Pet?” he asked, kissing your forehead before wiping it with the damp cloth. 
“Ye-yes,” you croaked, allowing yourself to give in to your exhaustion. 
“Yunho’s bringing a few things to take care of you,” he said. “I’m so proud of my sweet girl.” He brought you close to him, pecking your forehead again, “I thought for sure you’d cum before I asked. I didn’t know you’d hold it for so long like that.”
“It hurts,” you pouted, rolling onto your side and feeling the soreness in the front and back. 
“I’ll take care of that for you. Just stay up a bit longer so we can get some tea for your throat. Don’t talk too much or you’ll strain it more. Gosh, Mingi went quite hard,” he said, massaging your throat for you. “Perhaps I’ll let him just watch next time. My horny side gets caught in the heat of the moment sometimes. My poor pet,” he sighed, hugging you to him. “Did you like it?”
You only nodded, not wanting to make your throat worse. You truly had enjoyed it, edging and all. You’d never done anything like it, and it left you floating on clouds. Shutting your eyes, you didn’t notice Yunho reappearing with the items his master requested. You opened your mouth to sip the hot tea, and nibbled on the apple slices and almonds at Hongjoong’s insistence. The real relief came when Hongjoong began sponge cleaning you. His gentle hands held you so delicately, like you might break if he handled you too roughly. Applying a cold lotion to your more tender parts you melted with ease. It tingled your entrances, and soothed the heat radiating from your ass and thighs. 
“Sleep now, pet,” he said, pecking your shoulder blades and bringing you to him again. “You can sleep in as long as you want tomorrow. Seonghwa can start his morning without you for a bit.” 
“Thank you, Master.”
You turned to snuggle into him, finally falling asleep in his arms. 
***
Y/N: woo that was intense! I think it's one of my more intense smut scenes to be honest. I'm so glad you guys are liking this series of mine! remember to like and reblog (leave a comment if you want). <3
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eupheme · 1 day
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— drinkin’ in sunshine
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 1.8k
Tags: softer!cooper, love-at-first-sight, bounty hunting, alcohol, brief sexual harassment, seduction with ulterior motives, manual restraints, semi-public PiV
Request: a sweet request by @victoria-grimesss - ‘the theme of the song “Orange Colored Sky” like love at first sight maybe she’s a bounty hunter too?’
A/N: based on an idea where Cooper would like to visit old bars, a small habit left from the man he used to be
You find yourself having to rethink your strategy, when you’re suddenly struck with feeling for the man you’re supposed to be hunting down.
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The bar you find yourself in might be one of least favorite you’ve been in. A dingy sign marking the entrance, cast in shades of orange with the dip of the evening sun.
It's dark inside - flickering bulbs and oil lamps. Near the fringes of town, the murmur of voices and low jazz notes slipping through what remained of the glass-cracked windows.
Floors stained by god knows what, the bartop sticky against your elbow as your chin props on your palm. Full of all kinds of folk that would like to sink their teeth into you. Tear you from limb to limb.
But, they said you'd find him here. The him still undetermined, but for the amount of caps they're paying you, you were willing to take a leap of faith.
“Know 'em when you seem 'em," The man grunted. Giving you an appraising once-over, arms crossing over his chest, "Hard to miss. Black hat and a long coat. Five hundred caps for 'im dead. Boss don't want him alive."
You pick apart that detail in your head.
Reading between the lines. Either your target pissed someone off real bad, or he was too dangerous to be brought in.
Neither bode well for you, but you've been in this game long enough that you have a few tricks up your sleeve.
The scattering of tables look like campfires out on the open plains. Pockets of light, your eyes squinting - trying to find your quarry. Trying not to look too interested, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. No good could come from a gunfight here.
Eventually you catch him, from the corner of an eye. A tipped-down hat, a hint of that black coat and a leather vest from the bit of light from the table next to him. The dregs of something dark left swimming in a dull glass, the cut edges worn down from years of use.
You send another his way, a sweet smile for the bartender and a couple extra caps to make sure it makes it there.
Easier to get the job done at close range.
A drink paired with another doe-eyed smile. A murmured, well-placed “let’s get out of here” - and he’d be yours. Always worked like a charm, in a place like this.
Nursing your own drink as your legs cross, the collar of your jacket turned up. Shielding your face, as you do a quick check - loosening the snap on your holster. The sheath hidden at the small of your back.
When you look again, a jolt rings through you when you realize his eyes are already on you.
Almost as if he’d noticed you first - his gaze dark under the brim of his hat. The flip of his hand on the table - palm upright, two fingers crooking.
Beckoning you to him.
There’s something about him that you can sense from even here. Hairs on the back of your neck standing up, a stutter of your heartbeat.
You could still run. Cut ties and pass on through to the next town. Tell them it didn't shake out, if you ever have to take a bounty here again.
But you're drawn to him. Curious. It's been a while since a bounty has piqued your interest. It was always the same-old.
Raider with a chem problem. Man who stole something. A no-good scoundrel who ran off with a rich man's wife.
It has you moving. Slipping from the stool. Making your way through the dim room, to where a lean leg extends, kicking out the chair in front of them.
Three tables away and suddenly there's a hand darting out, pinching hard at your elbow. Sending you off balance as you grasp at their hand, nails sinking into their wrist. Your lip curling in a snarl, as you're tugged towards the man that sits, thighs spread wide.
"Been a while since somethin’ as pretty as you's been here." You can smell the sweat that clings to him, layered with the stench of watered-down beer, "What say you spend some time with us?"
His companion leers, and your pulse spikes. A hand drifting carefully towards your gun, the grit of your jaw as your mind races through your options.
There's a shadow behind you. Catching you in it, as the man’s eyes flicker to something above your shoulder.
"This one's mine, " The stranger drawls, “Why don’t you fellas find another toy to play with?”
A flash of something silver at his hip that has the man letting go.
Their eyes shifting away uneasily as you snatch your arm back. Turning to face the stranger, the grateful “thank you” already on the tip of your tongue.
But as you free it, his head tilts. Face catching the light, and you realize your savior isn't a stranger after all.
He's your target.
And... he's a ghoul.
The Ghoul, to be precise. He has to be - no one else talks like him, that old-world drawl. His reputation preceding him, you had heard time again just how efficient and ruthless he could be.
For a moment, you’re transfixed. Stuck staring up at him - across the cut of his cheekbones and the hollow of his eyes. A low flip in your stomach, for more than one reason. Something going soft, and then low and warm inside you.
Oh. You might just be over your head.
“Huh.” His eyes narrow, as he regards you. Doing their own slow sweep, from the top of your head down to the dust on your boots.
Something must have piqued his interest as well - there’s a slow jerk of his head towards the table, though he does not move.
Making you squeeze past him - your hips brushing up against his to pass by.
The drink still sits, untouched. An arm slung across the back of the booth that lines the back wall, as you fold into the chair opposite.
It’s only here that you get a real good look at him. The pulled-tight skin, reddened with radiation. The dark cavern of his nose.
His eyes are pretty. A shade that makes you think of the weather when things grow cool, late in the year. The lingering green before the earth turns brown for the colder winter months.
You think you wouldn’t mind them on you.
Not at all.
The Ghoul's knuckles tap the glass, nudging it towards you - bringing you back from your swirl of thoughts. His gaze fixed on yours, with the rasp of his voice.
"Ladies first."
You blink at him, "I got this for you."
A way to distract him. To open a window of opportunity, a way to get close enough to slip a knife between his ribs.
Or, that had been the plan.
There's the ghost of a smile. The peek of teeth as his tongue runs across them, as his head cocks to the side. Those eyes narrowing.
"Only a few reasons why a lady like yourself would get a fella a drink."
The lightness of his tone is betrayed by the careful way he watches you, down to the minute furrow of your brow - how your tongue peeks out to wet your own lips, “Here for a job, or for something else.”
The mention of a job makes your stomach clench, until you realize he must think you’re there to strike one with him.
"Either way, be in my best interest to ensure it hasn't been... tampered with.”
Perhaps not.
Perhaps you’d have to work harder… though the tight tether you have on your plan has started to slip through your fingers.
"You think I'd be capable of something like that?" Your eyes go wide with feigned innocence. Only half-acting, now.
Elbows propped on the table - a lean that does wonders for the hint of cleavage hidden in the loosened buttons of your shirt.
"Still workin' that out," His eyes sweep over yours, before dipping down to your mouth. And then, lower, "But, I think I got a good idea."
His voice lowers then. "Drink."
And so, you do.
The liquor is harsh when it hits your tongue. Strong and bitter - his eyes trained on the column of your throat as you swallow. A hand extended as you pass the glass to him. Fingers brushing, your bare ones against his worn leather gloves.
It's lifted to his lips after. His tongue dragging over the rim, where your lips had been - before he's tipping the glass back. Taking half of the rest with a long swallow.
"Maybe I just wanted to show my appreciation." You coo, "Heard all about you, after all."
"Is that right?" There’s another smirk - before his head is tipping, appraising, “This the only way you show your… appreciation?”
Your heart races, as you give him your best winning smile.
"Well, let's say you and I find out?"
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Your moan is ragged, teeth biting hard into your arm in an attempt to muffle the sound. Never making it further than the back-alley of the bar.
His voice had been low, as he followed you out the side door. A growled out, “We doin’ this?”
Eyes watching the twitch of your hands, his own tensed at his sides. Twin wires, strung tight.
Your mouth had tipped up to meet his, instead of your blade. Teeth and tongue and the wandering press of hands as he backed you against the building, your shoulders scraping against the worn brick in the darkness.
Would be a shame, you had thought. Not to find out what this was.
This something that almost had a physical weight - that dulled the sharp edge of your senses. Never expecting to feel this way, as desire crashes soundly over you.
You could always find him again after.
Tomorrow, maybe.
Finish the job then.
But that was before.
Before the bottom of your resolve fell out, with the press of his thigh, when it rocked against your core. His hip digging into yours, so you can feel how hard he is for you.
A whine in your throat, a knowing tone in his rough answer.
“’ve got you. Know just what you need.”
He had spun you around - your wrists caught in his hand, the brick biting into your skin where he pinned them.
Legs kicked wide with his boots, the soft clink of belts and spurs and the solid press of his chest into your back as you rocked back needily against him.
You let him take you apart.
Split you open on his cock, as he does nothing to quiet your sounds. Teeth bared - his own moan bitten back as he feels the way you clench down, wet and warm around him as his hips pound into you. Breath hot where it fans against your neck.
“And whose did I say you were?”
It has your eyes fluttering shut, as his hand curls around your hip - slipping between your thighs.
“Yours.” You gasp.
His breath is ragged in your ear, “That’s right.”
You keen when he circles your clit, his fingers slick with your arousal. Everything else fading, expect for how he buries himself deep with each thrust, the way he has you winding higher and higher.
That last grip of the tether inside you loosening, when you finally let go.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” The Ghoul rasps, when he feels how you tremble in his arms, “Don’t you worry, ‘cause when I’m through with you...”
“You’re gonna forget all about why you’re here.”
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how I imagine the cooper pov: “you’re either here to fight or fuck… and for you darlin’, I might just be down for either.”
thank you so much for the request!! I hope you liked this! 💖
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sarawritestories · 1 day
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You're On Your Own Kid, You Always Have Been
Cassian X Fem Reader
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Summary: Starting off your relationship when you were young, you and Cassian lived for centuries, in a happy, loving, relationship, that is until Nesta Archeron swept the General off his feet and left you abandoned his friends you thought were yours, following the new mated couple. You were utterly alone with nothing but a shattered heart to show for it.
Dedicated to @thelov3lybookworm, who encouraged me to write this! Buckle up! You're in for a treat!
Content Warning: Disordered eating, the IC being absolutely terrible, abandonment, feelings of worthlessness, feeling alone and lost, no happy ending for mentioned pairing. Let me know if I missed any.
If you see mistakes... no you didn't.
ACOTAR MASTERLIST
🖤🖤🖤
You looked at your reflection for the first time in months. You barely recognized yourself anymore. Your cheeks and eyes were sunken, your ribs were protruding, and your skin held an ashy undertone that wasn't there before.
This is what abandonment looked like.
Longing stares never returned, his hand adjusting to evade your touch. A bed is left cold on one side. Friends who once joined you in joyous laughter barely acknowledge you at dinner. You had become a disease that no one knew how to handle but would be relieved if you disappeared.
It hadn't always been this way.
Warm calloused hands holding you close the scent of leather and sandalwood surrounding you. Cassian nibbling your ear, or stealing you away during meetings to steal a kiss, maybe two. Dinners at the rainbow, watching a storm roll through Velaris in the comfort of your balcony and his arms.
The early days of your relationship consisted of stolen kisses, discussions of hopes and dreams, that as centuries went by, morphed into talks of building a future a family. He was your person, and you were his, and life seemed bright.
Until you weren't.
Nesta Archeron was not a female to compete with. And how could you? She was elegant and sharp, and she was beautiful. She also challenged Cassian, fighting back with that quick, sharp tongue of hers, ways you never did. Then you felt it before he did, the shift, the snap. He had found his mate.
It wasn't you.
And the heartbreak of that fact would have been fine had Cassian consoled you in any way. When you needed his comfort and touch most. He was gone. He first stopped coming to bed, and when he did, he turned and faced away from you. The action alone made you feel like he was doing it as a chore, not because he found comfort in your warmth. Maybe he even thought he was being kind. It just deepened the wound festering in your soul.
Next was his things, books went missing, then his weapons. It was when you walked in on the Illyrian packing his things that he confronted you. "She needs me, sweetheart. I can not abandon my mate."
But I can abandon you.
A hand on your shoulder was the only comfort you received. His face held no remorse for the pain he was putting you through. You cried in your bathroom it wasn't until the next morning when you were in the same position the cool tile kissing your skin that you realized you had fallen asleep. You didn't leave your room for days, and no one came in to check on you. Not a single knock. Turns out you were only worth loving so long as Cassian did.
And he didn't. He had Nesta.
You had no one.
You were beginning to sink to a dark, inky place, the wound in your heart growing with infection, and your heartbreak was turning into rage. The feeling scared you. You ran to the one person you thought would be able to help you.
The High Lord of the Night Court.
You knocked lightly on his door. "Come in." His tone short. You walked in, not letting yourself think too hard about how busy he must be. He didn't even raise his head when he said, "I've been wondering when you would come visit." He leaned back in his chair, violet eyes, meeting yours. "Please sit."
You sat at the seat in front of him and took a deep breath. "So you know why I'm here?"
"Cassian and Nesta?" He quirked a brow, and you nodded he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. As if you were a hindrance in his life. Kind, loving, Rhysand, even found your presence as an inconvenience. "What would you like me to say, Darling? They are mates they are allowed to be together."
You dug your nails into your palms, trying to reign in the rage. "So you're okay with him not even saying two words to me since they met?" Your voice began to rise in volume, "He tried packing his things in times I wouldn't be home so he could avoid talking to me." Your rose from your seat and Rhysand stilled as lights flickered around you that you failed to notice. "You all act like I'm not apart of this family anymore. I could dissappear tomorrow and no one would care if you even noticed at all."
"So leave." The lights snuffed out completely. You thought it was Rhysand's power never once, considering it might be your own that had laid dormant for centuries. Or that said power stirred something deep in the realm where a manor resides on a lake. You could only focus on Rhysand's words and the cold tone he said them.
He was no longer your friend. He was your High Lord. Nothing more.
"Well. I won't stay where I'm not wanted. I would have thought a relationship that had lasted centuries deserved him, at least telling me he wanted to try with Nesta." Tears were falling and you didn't stop them, "I wouldn't have fucking stopped him. I would have been happy for him. He didn't say a word. He took the cowards way out. You all did."
"I'm sorry, Darling." Rhysand didn't mean it. The smirk on his face said it all.
You turned and walked away, pausing at the door. "No. You're not. But one day you will be." And you stormed out. Not bothering to grab your belongings, you didn't need the reminder of the court of dreamers casting you aside as if you were their personal nightmare. Not interested in speaking with anyone. They weren't interested in stopping you from leaving.
You. Were. Done.
🖤🖤🖤
You walked for hours, your feet were sore, back drenched in sweat the most you had done in months, since Cassian didn't care if you had shown up for training or not. Needing rest, you found a tree to lean against. The sun began to set, and you were ready to give up. Let the beast of the forest consume you whole. If you died, then maybe the ache in your chest would cease and you could be free again. Whole again.
You again.
You sipped from your canteen when you heard humming. Your pointed ears perked as a hunched over woman approached you. You recognized her from Rhysand, projecting Nesta's memories into your head. For extra torture, he had "accidentally sent a memory of Cassian pleasuring Nesta," You had sobbed profusely that night. "Briallyn." You whispered.
The crone stopped in her tracks. She turned to you, your eyes locked on one another, and you couldn't help but relate to her. She wanted a better life for herself, only to be thrown in the cauldron and spat back out. Both of you former shells of what you used to be. "My my, you look positively dreadful."
You snorted, "So do you."
She laughed, "What brings you out here alone? That brute finally get sick of you?"
You sharply inhaled a breath at the question. "He did, actually. I am doomed to wander these lands courtless," If you even lasted the night.
Briallyn waved her hand in dismissal, her now aged hand grabbing your too frail hand. "Not all who wander are lost, dear. I was asked by a friend to retrieve you."
"Who is your friend?"
"Someone who has a special interest in you my dear." And the Human Queen turned Crone led you from the forest further from the town you once called home and the only thing on your mind?
It was nice to be holding someone's hand.
🖤🖤🖤
The throne room was dark and cold, as if death itself resided here. The only vibrant color here was the Phoenix that was in her cage, pulling to break free.
Vassa was here.
Briallyn squeezed your hand, and you felt comfort by the warmth of her touch. As you approached the male on the dais. He looked young, and you gasped as his beauty was beyond compare. The most beautiful male you have ever seen. And then he grinned, and your heart fluttered. The General of the Night Court long forgotten as you stared in the males cold eyes. Briallyn bowed, tugging your hand as you made to do so too.
"No, need to bow, Pet." You paused, straightening your posture once more. "Do you know who I am?"
You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat. "You go by many names. Old god, death lord, most call you Koschei." Your voice held a tremor as you were in the presence of a powerful being. A being whose brother once went toe to toe with the Lord of Bloodshed and almost killed him.
Koschei nodded, "Come closer, let me take a look at you." You looked to the former Human Queen in panic, afraid to lose her touch. "I promise I don't bite." You approached the dais and couldn't help the trembling convulsing through your body. The death of the Lord's dark eyes roamed your body. He rubbed his angular jaw, and your eyes met his lips as he tucked the lower one behind his teeth.
Beautiful, he was absolutely breathtaking.
His voice broke you from the trance like state. "My dear, someone has hurt you? What did they do to you?" He leaned forward, grabbing your hand and placing a light kiss on your knuckles. Tears brimmed your eyes. When was the last time someone harbored any affection toward you. "Tell me, sweet girl." Another kiss and your composure broke. You fell to your knees, and a matter of hours went into painstaking detail of how the Night Court had abandoned you. When you finished, there was a lightness in your chest.
Maybe there was hope.
"Oh, you poor thing." Koschei cooed, tilting your chin to meet his cold eyes, "If I had you, I wouldn't let you go so easily." He wiped the stray tears from your face. "Be mine, and never feel that pain again."
You lip wobbled as the cries of the Phoenix caged beside the old god broke your attention, the shrieks louder than before. Koschei gripped your chin and had you facing him once more, his face inching forward. His lips pressed yours, gentle and promised warmth, love, power. You felt as though he was breathing life back into you, and you relished in his lips touching yours. He pulled away, "What do you say, Little One?" A voice in the back of your mind screamed:
Right
Right
Right
You smiled for the first time in well over a year,"I want to be yours, Koschei." Magic thrummed around you as his smile turned sinister, gold chains clamping to your wrist, a collar latched around your neck. Scantily clad in a black sheer tip, only covering your breast and a skirt that barely covered your ass.
Koschei smirked as he gripped your waist and placed you on his lap. "What a formidable pair we shall be, my pet." Making a onyx crown and a matching ring appear, he gently placed the crown atop of your head, sliding the ring on your finger. You admired the ring, a small smile on your face, and something pulled at your chest at the thought:
He was claiming you. And you loved it.
Looking at the beautiful face of death and pressing your lips to his, ignoring the rattling of the former human queen beside you. You adjusted yourself, so you were straddling his lap. You opened your mouth for him, and he accepted. His hand gripped your ass as your kisses became tongues and teeth clashing. You forgot what this felt like. To be held to be kissed with such passion.
To simply be wanted.
"My Queen of Darkness." He murmured, threading his fingers through your hair, "You don't even know how powerful you are." He yanked your hair, and you moaned. "I'll show you." He bit down on the tender flesh connecting your collar bone to your neck, and you moan as his hand gripped your breast. "You magnificent creature." You smiled at the sky.
This is what being worshipped felt like.
Snap
Koschei paused, removing his hand from your pert nipple he slide his hand to the back of your neck. Love and adoration in his eyes, lips swollen, "Tell me, as you are to me my bride. What gift shall I get you for our ceremony?"
What did you want?
You smiled Koschei, noticing the mischievous glint in your eye. "The General of the Night Court's Armies and his Little Lady of Death here chained like the dogs they are."
Koschei brought your face down to his. His mouth lingering over yours, "Anything for my Cruel, Beautiful, Mate." The gold thread wrapped around your heart tying you to him as he crashed your lips onto him.
Not even caring that Vassa had broken free from her cage and soared to the Human Realms.
To be continued?
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exactlyyoungchaos · 2 days
Text
Loss of my Life.
Husband Simon X Reader.
My first time writing here!!! Please don't mind the mistakes as I'm writing this at 5 in the morning. enjoy!!!
TW: loss of a relationship, hurt, angst, little comfort, cursing, trauma(loss of family, mention of miscarriage), "its not you, its me bullshit" let me know if i missed something!
You used be a medic working with TF141 for years before you retired. that's how you met your now husband Simon Riley. he was the most loving, attentive and responsible partner you could've asked for, he was ghost to everyone but not you, never you. But something's changed recently.
ever since his last mission eight months ago, he's been detached, not talking to you properly, coming home extremely late and drunk. he hasn't even touched you since he came back and its saying something for a guy who used to be attached to your hips whenever he could.
you tried talking to him, tried asking what's wrong but you always got the same answer, " you're thinkin too much lovie, nothings wrong."
but you know your husband so you start digging, and that's the biggest mistake you have made.
you found a note in his vest pocket, where he keeps his wedding ring during missions that read " be safe and come back to me" in a handwriting you knew by heart but it wasn't yours.
it was of his childhood best friend. she was in the special forces as well, and recently worked with Simon's team on the last mission.
you knew then and there, the reason of the detachment, the curt responses. your husband was in love with the woman he told you not to worry about.
your eyes blur with the realization that the life you once knew is soon going to come to an end, the man you're in love with , who's ring you have been wearing for years is not yours anymore or maybe he never was.
you sat there in your closet, tears streaming down your face, gut wrenching sobs coming out of you mouth. he isn't home, like usual so there is no one to witness the loss of your life.
your brain conjure up all the good times you had with him but now all of it is tainted by the realization that none of it was true.
you remember every time you caught both of them looking at each other, the friendly adoration in Simon's eyes now looked like longing, with his hands still around your waist.
every time he said to you "you're the love of my life" with his lips on yours, was he wishing it was her? all these years, you were so in love, so blinded by the rose tinted glasses you had over your eyes that you never saw it?
you sat there for hours, mulling over your whole life. how the one person you thought was yours forever was never yours. so you got up, eyes hollow, bloodshot and puffy, your form trembling. you put the note back where it was and go lay on your bed.
you stare at the wall for hours, around three am, your front door opened and closed. you felt him as he walked in the bedroom and slipped under the sheets next to you.
for the first time in weeks, he put his arms around your waist and pulled you towards himself, " you awake love?" he murmured in your neck.
all that came out of your mouth was, " Am I not enough?" in a rough whisper.
his arms tense around you, he knows that you know. before he could say something, you turn to face him, still in his arms.
you look at his face, and trace his scars with your fingers as tears fell from your eyes on your pillow.
his expression is tortured, " Its not what you-" but you cut him off with a soft shush and a finger on his lips. the lips you called home for as long as you remember.
you don't want him to lie to you anymore so you smile, the same smile Simon has witnessed when you lost your whole family in an accident as he stood next to your shaking form during the funeral, the same smile you gave him when you had a miscarriage as he stood next to you on the hospital bed holding your hand, grieving with you.
his heart was breaking, he was cursing himself for doing this to you. but you don't blame him, you haven't said anything to him except "will you hold me for the last time? please?" and you bury your face in his chest, taking in his scent for the last time. feeling his erratic heartbeat for the last time.
Simon's hand tightened around you, he doesn't want to let you go. the only good thing that happened to him. he destroyed you, like he always does to anything he touches.
he knows he cant fix this, nothing he could say would fix this. so he held you, with all his might, for the last time.
part 2?
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Text
Prewar!Cooper told Barb that one of his favorite things about her was the fact that she always tries to do the right thing. The Ghoul is entertained by Lucy's "goody two-shoes" thing, at first, but is clearly very deeply impacted by the kindness that she shows him outside the Super Duper Mart.
Cooper Howard obviously likes good girls...corruption kink, anyone?
Prewar!Cooper would be sweet about it, even gentlemanly. He'd be respectful, slowly warming you up to all these ideas that you've never even heard of before. Of course, you trust him implicitly, and you're happy to go where he guides you. He would get a sense of the things you're into, what your boundaries are, but once he knew you well enough, he might start to nudge you in certain directions.
Taking you for a drive, his hand on your thigh slowly slipping higher until he's rubbing you through your underwear as you go along, working you up to an orgasm at a red light in full public view, completely aware that everyone can tell what's happening. Going for a long walk in a nice park and pulling you into the bushes for "a few smooches" that turn into you deep-throating his cock until you almost pass out. Pushing you into poorly soundproofed closets at fancy parties to turn you into a squealing mess on the end of his cock, too loud for others to not hear. It's all so addictive and you're powerless to stop yourself from giving into him wherever and whenever, slowly turning you into a little exhibitionist because he thinks it's hot.
"Oh, I know how much you like this, sweetheart...what if I tried this? Does that feel good? Sure seems like it does. You don't have to be embarrassed. I'll take care of you. You trust me, right, baby doll?"
The Ghoul would be...meaner. He's more the "don't ask for permission; beg for forgiveness" type, but without the begging part. He'd just go for things, watching in almost sadistic glee as your face would morph from shock to disgust to ashamed arousal. You would be able to sense something different in the air, but you never see his dirty tricks coming. Does this stop you from continuing to sleep with him as you trek the West together? Of course not. As much as you might hate him a little (or a lot) for it, he knows exactly what makes you tremble and beg for more, even as your face reddens and you struggle to look at him.
Sliding his tongue back to tease your asshole when he's eating you out like a man starved, laughing wickedly and holding your hands away when you try to stop him because 'That's so gross!', but soon your protests turn to wanton moans. Hell, sliding his thumb into your ass as he fucks you from behind, using the leverage to bounce you harder on his hips, the sensation amazing despite how humiliating it feels. The next time he fucks you that way, you whimper out a little plea for him to do it again. Making you beg him to spit in your mouth as you near your orgasm until he no longer has to prompt you, you simply open your mouth. He gets off on getting you to request (or even beg for) disgusting treatment.
"Oh, did you not like that? With the way this greedy little cunt is reacting, I'd say you liked it. I mean...if you didn't, I suppose I can quit. Hmm? You want me to keep doing it? What a nasty little freak, gettin' off on this. Maybe if you ask pretty, darlin'..."
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calliopesdiary · 11 hours
Text
“mini-me”
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synopsis; your little sister captures the hearts of your boyfriends, you may even say she has a little crush on james.
contents; sexual activity mentioned, fem!reader, reader has a cute lil sister, poly!marauders, james has baby fever, you have baby fever, i have baby fever, everyone has baby fever
warnings; none! just a brief mention of sex but nothing bad (;
a/n; i’ve been daydreaming about this fic for so long
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“NESSIE! FINALLY MY BEST FRIEND IS BACK!"
roared a thunderous James Potter who’d spotted your little sister— Vanessa.
Nessie was all over the boys, and they were all over her. she was a first-year hufflepuff and a true sweetheart.
Sirius silently adored how similar you two looked, it was like looking at twins— except one of them happened to be five years older than the other.
He was too afraid and stubborn to admit it, but Nessie gave him a heavy dose of baby fever.
was she a baby? no, not even close. but something about her cheeky smile, the way her robes hung over her like how a child pretending to be an adult’s would, and how her hand (which was considerably smaller than his) slid into yours lovingly at any given time.
maybe it was just that he wanted to see you as a mom, or that he longed for a family that was warm and loving.
“y/n, dear.” Sirius caught your attention quickly, even though you were watching James ramble on to Nessie like it was an oscar award winning film.
“hm—?” you hummed, attempting to pry your eyes away from the sweet scene.
“what do you think i’d-be like?”
“what do i think what would be like?”
“you know, having kids.” he could tell from your flustered expression that to were certainly not expecting that.
“o-oh… w-well…”
luckily the conversation had been interrupted by one Nessie.
Nessie ended her conversation with James, earning a “hey!” when she walked away from him.
“Siri.” she tugged in his sleeve.
“yes, darling?”
she blushed at the pet name, and started twirling her hair.
“um.. will you guys take me to Hogsmeade…?”
“Hogsmeade? Ness, only third years and over can go to Hogsmeade—“
“Professor Mcgonagall said if i went with you then it would be alright!”
She tugged on Sirius’ slightly oversized leather jacket once more, as he stumbles from the unexpected tug.
“whats going on in here— AGH!”
Remus stumbled backwards as Nessie pounced on top of him like some wild animal who was about to feed on him.
“hi— oof— hi Nessie.”
Remus was taken aback by the little first year jumping around in him in a circle chanting;
“i’m going to Hogsmeade!”
“Ness, he gets it.” You groaned from your position on James’ lap.
“Get off!!” Nessie shoved you with all of her pre-puberty force.
“N-Nessie!” you ‘gently’ hit the bedpost as Nessie locked herself onto James.
“What candy is she on? Pixi Stix?”
“Oh, suck my dick, Moony.”
“Gladly—“
“Oi!” Barked James.”
“whats a dick?”
“Nessie—..”
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HOGSMEADE was beautiful in summer time.
obviously— it wasn’t summer yet, but with April coming to a close and blossoming like a flower, you could basically say it was summertime.
you walked along with Remus and Sirius, as Nessie was hanging around with James as they skipped ahead down the alleys and walkways of Hogsmeade.
you adored James, and how sweet he was to your sister, she was such a sweet kid and deserved the love.
"James?" Nessie stopped skipping for a moment, keeping a steady walking pace instead.
"Hm?"
"Do you love my sister?"
"I do."
"so why don't you marry her?" Sirius burst into a quiet laughter, and Remus tucked the hysterical boy into his chest.
"i- marry her? i'd love too, but we're a bit young."
“but Snow White was 14 when she got married.”
“Oh.” James was clearly a bit flustered, his cheeks turned to a shade of pink.
Remus watched his lovers interact with Nessie, and it sparked something deep inside him.
Remus (until now) had ruled out a happy ending for himself.
being a lycanthrope, he never wanted to pass that burden to his child. so he couldn’t— no, wouldn’t have kids.
but somehow, someway, as he watched you with your little sister. he realized how badly he wanted you to be a mom.
for the first time, Remus realized that he could live happily.
“Remus? are you alright?” You tapped his shoulder rapidly, and he snapped out of his trance.
“Y-yes, sorry I got distracted.”
“you don’t have to apologize.” you smiled brightly up to him, the smile he was so in love with.
the smile he wanted his kids to have.
*
you four dropped Nessie off back at her common room, and Sirius immediately sprung onto you, nuzzling his face into your neck.
“Siri?” you asked through soft giggles.
“I can’t wait to have a kid with you.”
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