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eddiesxangel · 1 day

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Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think— "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

#Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x virgin!reader #Eddie Munson imagine

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talaok · 1 day

Note

PostOutbreak!Joel likes reader but he tries to hide it because of the age gap. To try and put us off, he can be a bit standoffish/mean but Ellie can tell it’s a facade and tells him to drop it and the age thing doesn’t matter if you really like each other. Then a fluffy confession omggg

Pairing: PostOutbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: unspecified age gap, joel being a lil insecure and scared, and Ellie being a menace, but its mostly all fluff who am i kidding

a/n: this was the cutest fucking request ever, thank you anon

You know those books or movies where it's painfully clear to everyone but the two main characters that they love each other, and you keep reading or watching thinking "How could anyone not see that he likes her?" as you increasingly get more frustrated and annoyed?

Well, this is a bit like that,

not a bit actually, completely so.

And in this metaphor, you and Joel were the two oblivious main characters, while Ellie, poor Ellie, was the unfortunate witness of your blindness.

It was so incredibly clear to her that she sometimes struggled not to laugh at your interactions.

I mean the first time Joel saw you was the very first time she'd seen him blush and forget how to speak in the span of a second- it was hilarious.

And then when he'd catch him staring at you or pretend not to purposely take the longer route home just to catch a glimpse of you outside the bakery... it was hard to only chuckle underneath her breath, but she managed...

until today

Joel slammed the door as he got it, like really loud, not like his usual slam.

"what's wrong?" Ellie asked, her brows frowning in suspicion as he kicked his boots off his feet before halfheartedly dragging them to the kitchen where she was sitting.

"nothin'" he grumbled,

Now that made Ellie sigh with annoyance,

he was always the one to blab about how she could always confide in him, and if that was the truth, then that meant it went both ways.

"Y'know a grumpy old man once told me that it's good to share how you're feeling" She tilted her head to the side, raising her brow as Joel rolled his eyes, filling a glass with water "Would be real hypocritical of him to not take his own advice..."

Said old man, was now rolling his eyes even harder, drowning the full glass in a second

"'s nothing, don't worry 'bout it"

"Joel" Ellie only glared at him,

and as always when it was her,

he was convinced faster than he liked to admit

He sighed, before speaking "It's stupid" he said

"I don't care" Ellie shrugged, placing her elbows on the kitchen counter where she sat and using her hands to support her head, her whole focus on Joel,

who sighed, again.

"I just-" he placed the glass in the sink before turning back to her "I just saw y/n talking to I guy I-"

"Oh my god you're jealous!" she said it with such enthusiasm and with such a smile pulling at her lips that you would have guessed she'd just won the lottery

"no" Joel frowned, shaking his head "What are you on about? I'm not jealous, I just don't like the guy"

"yeah" Ellie snorted "I'm sure you just "don't like the guy"" she air quoted as she laughed

"Why would I be jealous?" Joel went on pretending,

perhaps lying to himself together with her, the jury was still out.

"I'm just worried for her-" he argued "she's too kind and too fucking nice and Jake's an asshole"

again, Ellie only smiled as she watched him lie so blatantly

"why would you be jealous?" she pondered his question with amusement "well I don't know... maybe 'cause you have the biggest fucking crush on her"

"What!?" he spat "I don't know what's going on with you today, where did you get all these ideas? I-"

"Oh my god please shut up Joel" she groaned, rolling her eyes "That rude asshole act you do around y/n may work with her, but you don't fool me, Miller"

Ellie could swear she saw a hint of panic in his eyes

"I know you like her, just like I know she likes you" She finally said, done with this little act "I honestly don't get why you two don't just declare your love to one another and live happily ever after or some shit"

It was like he froze,

and while Ellie thought it was because he'd just been busted by a 14-year-old, it was for a wholly different reason

"she doesn't like me" he stated

And at that, at that Ellie could just groan as her palm descended dramatically down the length of her face

God, she'd always known he wasn't the brightest, but this? This is a little too much even for him

"Are you blind or something?" she threw her hands out for emphasis "She's definitely better at hiding it than you, I'll give you that, but I mean, still... it's fucking obvious dude!"

"Ellie" Joel only shook his head "you 'don't know whatcha talkin' 'bout"

Ellie was now very close to yelling at him.

"Joel I'm serious, she likes likes you!" she argued, "why do you find that so hard to believe?"

But of course, Ellie couldn't have known what was going on in Joel's mind, how certain he was that it wasn't true,

about how he knew he didn't deserve someone like you, someone so kind and beautiful and smart,

how he had spent months trying to get the thought of you to leave his tainted mind,

how he'd decided to be mean, rough, rude to you in the hopes that you would stop being so nice to him, in the hopes that you would start to avoid him, to hate him, and he'd never have to see you or that gorgeous smile again.

And finally, Ellie didn't know about how he was too incredibly, terribly old for you, for such a pretty young woman.

Half his hair was gray for god's sake, he never had a chance

"I could be her father Ellie" he finally confessed what had been eating up at him for so long "I'm too fuckin' old"

Ellie didn't even need a moment to take that it, she listened, thought about it, and immediately rolled her eyes

"SO WHAT?"

You don't understand how long she had to pretend not to want to give the both of you a good shake,

it was only right for her to finally shout it out

"First of all, you're not that old" she started listing, "second of all, she obviously doesn't care" she continued "and finally Joel, if you really like her, and if she really likes you, then it doesn't matter!"

But Joel was not convinced, he'd spent too long telling himself the opposite, and he couldn't even fathom the possibility of what Ellie was saying

"you just have to tell her"

she said it like it was easy, like the mere thought of it didn't give Joel a minor heart attack, like he hadn't woken up from multiple dreams where he would confess his love and you would laugh at his face, or worse, tell him you felt the same, something Joel knew not to be the truth.

Also, Joel had no idea when exactly throughout this conversation he'd admitted to liking you, but I guess it didn't matter now, it made no sense to keep the farse on.

"I can't Ellie, I-"

"oh my god you're such a chicken" she moaned "You're the one that always tells me to be brave!"

"that's different"

"how!?" she bugged her eyes, holding her palms up in show of her frustration "I get that it's scary, but what's the worst thing that could happen?"

And that, for some reason, stuck with him,

He really had nothing to lose,

It's not like you were friends or you would talk often, it's not like he would be ruining a relationship, there wasn't one,

And yet... yet it still terrified him,

"Ellie... I don't know"

"c'mon man, but your big boy pants on" she groaned "I'm telling you, she fucking likes you"

__ __ __

Joel didn't do it.

He couldn't. He just-

You were perfect, you were perfect in a way that made him feel all the more dirty,

like being close to you, talking to you, touching you... would be like plucking a flower with torn-up hands,

And fuck him, but Joel was scared, like he'd gone back 40 years and become 16 all over again.

He couldn't do it, he couldn't, wouldn't do it, and he'd set his mind to that, made peace with his cowardness and dread.

Until of course, Ellie's twisted mind came up with a way to force his fears to life.

"Howdy"

The kid was smiling so broadly that she looked like a child with a brand-new toy,

but Joel's eyes were somewhere else,

he was looking at you

"Hi Joel" you smiled, punching a knife into his gut

You were at his front door with his kid, who was very clearly plotting something, and Joel wondered for a moment if this was what would finally make his heart give out.

"Hi," he said, his voice sounding distant

Why is she here?

"Aren't you gonna let us in?" Ellie urged,

Us?

"Uhm, I-"

but Ellie had already sneaked inside, dragging you behind

And now the awkward scene was even more awkward, just at the entrance of his home.

"All alright" Ellie clapped her hands, watching Joel stare at you as you tried to avoid his gaze "I'm gonna go to my room," she said, shouldering him not so subtly

"Cool down dude" she mumbled, before disappearing upstairs.

What the fuc-

"I'm sorry to barge in like this" you finally spoke, a gentle smile on your lips "Ellie said you needed to tell me something, so I just... came here I guess" you finished with an awkward laugh

Fuck-fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

"If it's too much trouble I'll just go-"

"no," Joel said, before he could stop himself, finally realizing he was still holding the door's knob, and in a spur of bravery, deciding to use it to close the door.

"Oh, ok" you mumbled, puzzled by his demeanor "so uhm, what is it you needed to tell me?"

God damn that fucking trick-playing kid of his

"do you- do you want something to drink?"

the question took you aback, but then you did something that stunned Joel even more, you laughed,

you laughed softly, quickly, like you were letting out all this stupid awkwardness in a simple gesture

because that's how you were: Magical

"Sure" you shrugged, grinning "some water would be nice"

If Joel had to watch your face for an instant more he feared he was gonna explode, so he did all he could think of, he walked to the kitchen, only glancing at you again when he handed you your drink,

to his dismay, finding a smile still drawn on your lips.

"thank you" you said, taking a sip

god, even the way your lips wrapped around the rim made him want to drop to his knees.

He needed to get a grip.

"so... are you gonna tell me or do I have to guess?" you joked, your fingers drawing patterns on the glass

Was this really happening?

Was this hell?

"I..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he glanced from the counter to you on repeat "I wanted to tell you that..."

"that?"

"that- the uhm-" he shut his eyes for a second, searching for words "the...bread you gave us this week was real good"

Goddamnit

"oh"

Even you couldn't hide your disappointment

I mean, you certainly didn't expect it. A compliment from Joel Miller? What universe were you in?

Just like you didn't expect any of this... him actually letting you in his house or offering you water...

You had half expected him to shut the door in your face,

The most he had ever given you was a half smile at a joke you told him while he was picking up bread, the rest were all rude grumbles or just a bunch of stoic looks...

and yet... yet a part of you couldn't help but have set expectations a little higher.

What a silly fool you'd been,

hoping for a love confession from a man who has made it very clear he despises you,

but still- a girl can dream, right?

"thank you" you mumbled, as Joel cursed himself over and over in his head "that's very nice of you," you smiled, stalling a second to see if he was gonna say something else, interrupt you at some point,

but he remained silent

"well if that's all, I'm gonna go then, thank you for the water I-"

Until he wasn't

"no-stop- I-"

Ellie was right.

He had to do this, he had to win his fear and try at least, or he was gonna regret it for the rest of his life, and he already had too many of those.

The problem was that you looked really beautiful today, and he'd never been good with words

Fuck it- if he was gonna make a fool of himself so be it,

He had nothing to lose and everything to win,

he had you to win.

"Yes?" you asked, trying to tame your hopes down

Think Joel, think

how the fuck do you tell a woman you like her?

"There's one other thing I've been meaning to tell ya" he cleared his throat, standing up straighter as he took a step closer to you.

"'m not great at doing this type of thing" he admitted, shaking his head slightly "but Ellie... she's right, I'm always tellin' her to be brave and everythin', so... I guess it's my turn now," he said, letting out a short, anxious laugh "I don't even know- I guess what I'm tryna say is that I'm gonna be honest now, but I want you to know that- that I know what you're gonna say and it's ok" he swallowed thickly, preparing himself from your inevitable rejection "I understand, really, I just- I thought I should try at least"

What was going on?

What the fuck was he saying?

"Joel, what are you talking about?"

This was it.

It was now or never.

"Y/n I-"

his heart was beating out of his chest, and his legs felt like jelly, but he had to do it, he had to take a leap of faith-

"Y/n I like you" he breathed like the words longed to be out of his mouth "I like you a lot, I have for a while now"

he watched your mouth part, your whole face filling with shock as you blinked over and over, trying to make sure this was really happening.

"Y-you like me?"

"yes" he nodded "And as I said, I know you don't feel the same, I know I'm old, and I've been an asshole to you all this time, so it's ok, really I-"

"stop talking Joel" you huffed a laugh, stepping closer, and then closer again, until your hand was on his arm "please just-" you bit down a smile, and he was so confused, so fucking confused, "say it again," you asked

"I like you y/n" he murmured, trying to get his mind to start working again,

but you were leaning closer,

and who cared what his name was anyway

"you were rude to me"

"I was, I'm sorry I-"

You pretended to be thinking about it, glancing upwards as you pursed your lips together

But who were you kidding?

"you're forgiven" you smiled, looking up at him as you slowly raised yourself on your tiptoes to gently, oh so gently, press your lips to his.

Joel was certain he had just died.

But then he opened his eyes again, and you were still there, beaming up at him, and he felt such a wave of happiness that he could have started crying right there,

only he took on a different route and grabbed each side of your face with his hands, crashing his lips with yours and kissing you, kissing you like he'd been dreaming of for months

exactly how you imagined he would,

better than you imagined, actually

so much better.

"Ha! I told you, Joel!"

He groaned as he leaned away, shooting Ellie an annoyed glance

"What are you doin' here?"

"just came here to gloat" she shrugged, watching you two with a grin plastered on her face

"I think you've done enough of that" he muttered, but you could only smile

"thank you, Ellie," you grinned "Thank you for doing this"

She raised her brows, looking at Joel as if saying "See, she's thanking me, why aren't you?", but then her expression got more genuine as she shot you a smile

"you're welcome" she smiled "Better having to see you kiss than having to put up with Joel being all sad 'cause you're talking to Jack or any other guy"

You gasped with amusement as Joel shut his eyes in embarrassment, his cheeks tainting with red

"Ellie-" Joel grumbled,

A soft giggle flowed through the room as Ellie turned away and went back up to her room, seemingly satisfied with her work

"You were jealous?" you teased him, your hands on his chest, while he'd moved one of his from your face to your waist.

"maybe I was" he fessed up

You smiled even brighter

"And you like me?" you asked for the thousandth time

"yes, sweetheart, I really fuckin' like you" he smiled too now, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that made time stand still and the world spin around

"I like you too Joel" you finally said, giving the man an actual mini-stroke.

"say it again"

537 notes · View notes

teddynottss · 21 hours

Text

• - FUCK ME IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER • -

PAIRING(S): theodore not x fem. reader

WARNING(S): smutt

SUMMARY: after winning his quidditch, you realize that your bf wasnt as happy as he usually is, and when you ask him about it, his jealousy is to be revealed

A/N: sorry this is a bit short im a bit unmotivated rn!

——————————————————

You were at your bf’s quidditch game, watching as theodore leads his team to victory, him being captain. Throughout the game, your eyes never leave your bf, you loved watching him play, he looked so good.

Then, you notice your boyfriend clench his jaw as Cormac, flies around where you’re standing. He manages to push the Gryffindor boy hence making him fall to the floor. The game ends with slytherin winning and so the team decides to celebrate the night with champagne in the common room.

Later that night, you get to the common room, ready to meet him since you haven’t talked since the game. He was sat on the couch with a cigarette in his hand, an expression on his face you could read, he’s pissed.

Astoria who also just arrived meets her partner Mattheo and sits on his lap beside Blaise and Enzo. On another couch Regulus and Tom were sat next to the fireplace whispering something inaudible.

You get on your bf’s lap and greet him with a kiss on his cheek. He kisses your forehead sliding his hand down your hair to play with it. “You did so good today baby” you speak. He replies with a quick hmm, his jaw clenched. He was lost in thought, although, you weren’t sure what it is that he’s thinking about.

“Is something wrong teddy?” you hesitate. He looks at you, then says, “Cormac, he was looking at you and flying around you the whole time today, and i got jealous so i pushed him off and hurt him.. bad. And now i’m kicked out of the team for the rest of the season.”

A big wave of guilt hit you as you shuffled on his lap, “theo i am so sorry.. i promise i wasn’t looking anywhere near Cormac, i mean why would i? you were perfect baby, you looked so handsome playing and you were so good at it.”

Theo smiled at you, kissing your temple. “Dont blame yourself for this, i know you would never even glance at him i trust you, but i got so mad and.. yeah.” “what can i do to help you?” you question. “Let me fuck you real hard please” he says, gulping.

“uhh.. theo are you sure-“ “yes yes” he nodded. “okay then fuck me if it makes you feel better”. At your mark, theo removes you carefully off him and stands up before taking your hand in his and leading the both of you to his dorm.

“Please no loud sounds, im tryna sleep soon” Blaise joked. Once you got to his dorm, he began kissing you hungrily and desperately while removing your clothes. Remaining in your matching set of lingerie, he pushed you to the bed and got on top of you. Still kissing you, you helped him get out of his clothes, shirt, pants, then boxers.

He then began leaving trails of kisses down your stomach, his finger-trip trailing the curves of your body until it reached your panties. He slid your panties down, flipping you over so that you’re on top. He removed your bra and then used his hands to slowly lower you on top of him.

You moaned as he entered you, adjusting to his size before you began riding him. Your hands on his stomach, you ride him increasing your pace a bit every now and then. Your hair wrapped around his fingers, as whimpers leave his mouth. He grabs your neck, lowering you to him so he kisses you. He bites your lip making you feel your orgasm near.

Then, he flips you over, making the position deeper, and starts thrusting in an out of you. His pace quick, he kisses you, your tongues intertwining, he then moves to your neck and starts biting on your skin.

Thats sends you releasing your cum without a warning instead a scream which makes theo throw his head back “come inside me” you ask him to which he does. You both come down from your highs as he slumps next to you on the bed.

“If i get to fuck you like this i might as well never play on the team again” he joked. “oh shut up theo,” you slapped his arm. he chuckled picking you up bridal style “come lets get you cleaned up principessa”.

#harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #smut #theodore nott #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 days

Note

( 🟦 🎞️ 🟦 )

AITA for telling my coworker that he’s stupid for liking an objectively TERRIBLE film?

I (27M) and my coworker (25M) usually have “movie nights” on our days off. We find time to sit down and watch a movie together. He’s usually agreeable on what movie I want to watch, but sometimes I do let him choose the movie, as long as I don’t find it too unbearable. (His taste in cinema is below average.)

Earlier today, he reminded me that neither of us were scheduled on Friday or Saturday, and he asked me if I wanted to do a movie night. I agreed, and asked him if he wanted to watch anything in particular. (This is more of a pleasantry. He usually never suggests anything specific when I ask this.)

Surprisingly, he said that he did have a movie in mind! Unfortunately, the movie he had in mind was the 2009 movie, Avatar. The one with the blue people.

After he said this to me, I laughed at him, because no one actually LIKES that movie. The best anyone can say is that it’s visually appealing! The plot is drawn out, bland, and not worth nearly three hours of my time. I asked him if he was serious about wanting to watch it, because I never took him for the type to enjoy something so dull.

He frowned at me and said that he'd watched it a few times with his ex-girlfriend when they were still dating, and that he’d really liked it… and not just for the visual aspect? He said that he wanted to watch it with me too. He continued to justify it by bringing up the fact that I like other sci-fi movies and shows, and that he didn’t see how this was any different from those.

I told him that it was different because there was no reason for a movie to go for so LONG and to give so LITTLE, and he started whining about the first Lord of the Rings movie (which we’d watched a few months ago) and how it was longer than Avatar.

I told him that there was a HUGE difference: LotR is actually good! This only seemed to upset him more. He scoffed at me, saying that I couldn’t see a good movie if it was right in front of me. He said this jokingly, but I could tell he was upset. I glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

After a few seconds of tense silence, he asked AGAIN if we could watch it on Friday, because I’m the one who always picks the movies, and that it was unfair that he never got to pick any. I told him no, because Avatar is an awful film, and that he was really stupid for liking it.

I don’t think I’m wrong for telling him that Avatar sucks, considering it’s common knowledge, but calling him stupid might’ve crossed the line for him. I’m pretty sure that this comment is what made him mad, because it sparked a bigger argument, which eventually led to him sleeping on the couch for the night. I’ve called him stupid in other situations before, so I’m not sure why he’s making such a big deal about it now.

I don’t think I’m the asshole… If I am, I’m definitely justified. The only reason I’m asking is because a close friend of mine (28X) said that I was too harsh about it, so now I'm second-guessing myself. AITA for telling my coworker that he’s stupid for liking an objectively TERRIBLE film?

#aita #am i the asshole

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iholdwhatican · 2 days

Text

reunions

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.8k

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension

summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?

author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3

originally posted by iholdwhatican

You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband’s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross.

You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore.

So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?

Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin.

He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all.

And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work.

You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it.

The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right?

Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband.

The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him.

God, what the hell was wrong with you?

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five.

Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted.

You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage?

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.”

You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.”

Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same.

The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.”

You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?”

“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door.

You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning.

The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated.

He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed?

God, you needed a cigarette.

You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot.

Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into.

You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.”

He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him.

The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart.

Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air.

The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you?

You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter.

“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment.

You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.”

Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you?

“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.”

You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area.

“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why.

“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually.

“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.”

Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend?

You needed another drink. Or ten.

“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to.

“More than anything else in this world.”

Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed.

It made something flip in your stomach.

“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.”

You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.”

You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men.

Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like.

You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone.

“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.

The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation.

“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.”

The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive.

You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?”

His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.”

You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.”

“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.”

You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it.

“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?”

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it.

“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands.

Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was.

“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-”

“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.”

You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-”

“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that.

The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?”

The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look.

The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait.

You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire.

“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.”

You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind.

“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.”

He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.”

Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?”

You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-”

But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his.

You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it.

You really, really fucking liked this.

When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff.

It was unbelievably hot.

As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you.

You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband.

#challengers #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #challengers fic #challengers fanfic #art donaldson x patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers x you #art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig #tashi duncan #charly writes!!

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ktgoodmorning · 2 days

Text

Bored

Mapi Leon x reader

Mapi gets bored while you're gone on international duty and finds a new way to keep herself busy.

I kinda love the ending of this one, I really just need me a girl to do this with. If you don’t like the first half, I promise the ending is worth it (imo)

Masterlist

“But bebita, what am I supposed to do for two whole weeks while you’re gone?”

“Maybe you could do some more drawing while I’m gone? Draw something for me or for the apartment or something?”

To say Mapi was not happy about you leaving was an understatement. You were going home for almost two weeks for international break and Mapi was still stuck in the gym doing rehab, not even getting to fully partake in training yet. Many of your friends from the team would be gone as well so she certainly wasn’t looking forward to it. Throughout her injury she had been bored enough; without you to keep her company, she’d be absolutely losing her mind.

“I’ve literally drawn everything. I have nothing left.” she gave you a pout and shrugged in defiance, automatically turning herself into a toddler. She had flopped across your bed dramatically while you made sure you had everything you needed to go.

“Mapi, I’m sure you will find something. Maybe there’s another project of some kind that you can get into?”

“No, there’s none. I’ve done everything. And I will die of boredom. And you don’t even care.”

You rolled your eyes at how childish your girlfriend was being while you finished zipping your suitcase. “I’m quite sure you won’t die. And I will be sure to give you a call when I get some free time, okay?”

“Well hopefully I’m still alive by then.”

“You’re ridiculous, María.”

“But you love me!”

“Yes, I do. But I’m also gonna be late if I don’t head out, so please sit up and give me a kiss.”

“Fine,” she mumbled, but still sat up to comply, not willing to turn down an opportunity to kiss you, especially when it would be her last one for a while. “I love you, please text me when you get there.”

“That I can do. I love you too, I’ll miss you.”

“Apparently not enough to bring me with you, though.” She grumbled once again while she carried your bag to the door for you.

With one last hug and kiss, you were sent on your way, getting in your Uber and going straight to the airport. Of course Mapi continued texting you the entire way in an attempt to keep herself occupied until you had to board your plane and she was forced to face her boredom.

Normally you wouldn’t have much reason to worry about your girlfriend when you were gone. Sure, you missed her, but that was about the extent of it. She’d be busy in Barça trainings or sometimes tagging along with Patri and Pina on mini vacations if they had time off during the break, so she was always kept entertained. But Mapi’s injury had taken its toll on her and she was far past the point of being kept busy by a book or sketchpad. She was antsy to get back in the field and it was killing her to still not be in full training with all her friends. Your mind was busy with thoughts of her as you put your phone away and your plane took off.

…

Hours later when your plane touched down, you took your phone off airplane mode and had a flood of texts streaming in that Mapi had sent throughout your flight. Nothing was wrong or anything like that, just a full stream of consciousness sharing every thought she had with you over the past few hours. Through her messages, you could easily piece together that she was, of course, bored, hated the new book she had started and decided not to finish it, tried to watch a movie but didn’t like it, complained a lot, and then decided on taking a nap. You assumed that she was still asleep as the nap was the last text you received from her, making a mental note to call her once you were on the way to your hotel. As you sat waiting to get off the plane, it hit you that these two weeks might go a lot worse than you thought.

You realized once you got in the car to your hotel that calling your girlfriend, and therefore waking her from her nap, would be a bad idea, so instead you sent her a text to let her know you made it. In hopes of keeping your girlfriend company, you also texted Patri and Pina to see if they could check in on her and invite her to tag along with them while you were gone. You wouldn’t ever tell Mapi you asked but you knew that it would help her pass the time if she wasn’t moping around, alone the entire time, and Patri and Pina would always be glad to have her join them.

…

Later that night when you were settled into your hotel room, your girlfriend must have woken up, as you suddenly got a flood of texts from her.

“Hola, bebita”

“I just woke up”

“I’m glad you made it”

“How was the flight”

“I slept so long”

“Why didn’t you call me on your way to the hotel? You could have woken me up, I wouldn’t have cared” (not true)

“I love you”

“I miss you”

“Can you come home yet”

That’s about how every text looked- just continuously coming in as she thought of it. Immediately you decided to just Facetime her instead of forcing her to type it all out.

She didn’t have much to say other than that she was still bored, and that her nap helped pass the time. You took the opportunity to fill her in on all the details from the flight and how your day had gone, knowing that she would appreciate it the longer you talked. The two of you talked and talked until you started drifting off, making hardly any sense as you tried your best to continue the conversation.

“Baby, you’re falling asleep, I should let you go. You need to rest up for training tomorrow, especially after your flight.” you could see in her eyes that she was disappointed to have to say goodbye.

“It’s alright, you can keep talking. I like listening to you while I fall asleep, just know I’m gonna stop responding soon so don’t say anything important.”

“Are you sure, I-”

“I’m positive, Mapi,” you leaned over to turn off the lights and get comfortable in your hotel bed. “I love you. And I have a hard time sleeping when you’re not here to cuddle with me, so at least your voice is better than nothing.” Your girlfriend’s face broke into a sad smile when she realized that you missed her just as much as she did.

“I love you too, amor. You get comfy, and I’ll keep going then.” And that was exactly what she did, continuing to go on quietly about whatever random thing she could think of so that her voice could lull you to sleep. You meant what you said when you had a hard time sleeping without her near so her voice was exactly what you needed to help you drift into a gentle sleep.

…

The next few days went exactly as the first had. Plenty of complaints and texts from Mapi that you responded to whenever you caught a spare minute. She didn’t necessarily expect a response, she understood you were busy and wasn’t trying to interrupt, it was more of a way for her to stay somewhat occupied. When she wasn’t in the gym, continuing to work on her recovery, she was often napping with Bagheera, or sometimes tagging along with Patri and Pina.

After about three days in this routine, she decided that third wheeling with the two of them only made her miss you more. She’d see them get all cuddly together and suddenly feel more alone than ever, only wanting you.

Unbeknownst to you, on your fourth day being gone, Mapi decided to follow your advice of finding some kind of new project to keep her busy. It was becoming more and more clear to her that she couldn’t go on like this for the next two weeks so she was willing to try almost anything. She had suddenly delved into her newfound hobby with such conviction that her texts to you began to lessen. You still had your nightly phone call and she was still just as chatty as usual, but you no longer received her entire stream of consciousness throughout the day.

On day seven, now three days without her constant texts, you finally decided to ask her about it. You assumed she just got used to you being gone and had found something to do.

“What have you been up to the past few days? You must have found something to keep you busy, si?”

“Si, si, si. But I cannot tell you, it’s a surprise.” She was smiling from ear to ear, almost suspiciously excited, given her attitude just a few days prior.

“Not that I don’t like seeing you happy, Maps, but I feel like you’re far too happy right now.” You giggled at her lightly, glad to see her doing so well, but also knowing it wasn’t unusual for her to get herself into trouble when you were gone.

Her mouth dropped open, giving you a playful look of shock at what you were implying. “Don’t you trust me, amor?”

“Yeah, but I feel like I shouldn’t…” Her mouth dropped even further as you laughed at her. Your girlfriend just smiled at your laughter, happy to see one of her favorite things after a week apart.

As your laughter died down, she turned more serious, realizing, once again, how much she missed having you home and hearing your laughter around the house. “Would you please just come back to me, I miss you?”

“I know, Maps, I miss you too. One week from today, I’ll be back home to you, though.”

“One week can’t come soon enough. Why don’t you get into bed and I’ll keep talking? You’ve got a game tomorrow and I can’t be the reason you’re up too late.” And that’s exactly what you did. You both shared your final goodnights and I love you's before letting her talk you to sleep, just as you had done every day that week.

…

The rest of international break continued with the same routine. You wouldn’t hear much from Mapi during the day but still always ended your nights with a phone call where she talked until you fell asleep. She still refused to tell you how she was filling her time, just telling you that she found a new project, just like you told her to. As you boarded your plane to go home to her, you were itching with excitement, both to see her as well as to see what she had been up to.

Mapi had been suspiciously quiet that morning, nothing but a “can’t wait to see you” and “I love you” text from her. Based on her odd behavior, you figured she had either destroyed your apartment and didn’t want you to know, or had some kind gift for you and wanted it to remain a surprise. Either way, you knew you were anxious to see what she had up her sleeve. Your contemplation made it hard to focus on your book during the flight, eventually just giving up and letting your mind wander for the hour you had left in the air.

When your plane landed, your excitement only grew as you made your way through customs, knowing your girlfriend was waiting for you on the other side. You had shared some texts since you landed, her letting you know that she was in the lobby, waiting to greet you the second you emerged. She still was yet to share any details of her last two weeks which was increasingly unusual for her.

“Bebita!!” You heard the familiar voice calling to you the second you stepped off the escalator into the main lobby. She lightly jogged her way over to greet you with a hug just as she always did, throwing her arms around your neck and going up on her tippy toes to meet you.

“María, mi amor!” you let your hands go around her waist to squeeze her into you tightly while you mumbled into her hair. “I missed you.”

“At least you were actually doing stuff! I was just stuck at home! All alone, and injured, and bored, and alone.” She was back to her playful teasing, no different than she was before you had left for break, still just as dramatic as always.

“Well I’m back now! So maybe you should quit grumbling and take me home, yes?”

“Si, yes, I’d love to take you home.” this time she was more serious, mumbling against your lips as she left you a series of soft kisses.

With that, your girlfriend finally separated from you, taking all your bags (even though you insisted you could do it just fine yourself), and leading you to her car with her free hand linked with yours. She refused to let you put your bags in her car yourself, even when you reminded her that she was still technically injured.

When she sat down in the driver’s seat next to you, she held your hand in yours once again, holding them both in her lap, sometimes placing soft kisses on your knuckles. “María, are you gonna tell me what you’ve been up to for the past two weeks?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” she flashed you a cheeky smile before turning back to face the road. You figured it couldn’t be anything too bad because if she was really trying to hide it and keep herself out of trouble she wouldn’t be all smiley like this. It had to be more of a good surprise than anything else. “Tell me about your day, baby. How was your flight?” You scoffed at her obvious change of subject but still obliged, having nothing better to talk about at the moment as she finished her drive to your shared apartment.

When she unlocked your front door, you were a little surprised to see nothing out of place. Your apartment appeared to have everything in its place, just as clean as when you left it two weeks ago. You gave Mapi a questioning look, trying to figure out what she had been so secretive about while she just smirked at you.

“Okay, Maps, give it up. What have you been hiding from me?”

“Close your eyes, amor.” She could tell you were slightly unsure by the way your eyebrows shot up on your forehead, immediately coming over to reassure you. She took both your hands in hers gently, looking directly in your eyes. “Just trust me. I just have to run in the other room to grab something and I’ll be right back. It’s nothing bad, I promise.” She leaned up to you to punctuate her sentence with a kiss.

“Fine, but if you’re pranking me, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight. I’m serious!”

You watched her roll her eyes at you but you both knew the warning was warranted given her past attempts to play jokes on you. When she didn’t react further, you finally gave in and shut your eyes, listening to her footsteps run into your bedroom for a minute before returning. You fought to suppress your smile. Just from the sound of her footsteps you could perfectly picture the way she was running, much like a child, going as fast as she could to excitedly show you what she was hiding.

Just a few seconds later, you felt her presence in front of you before she spoke up again. “Give me your hand.” You tentatively did as she asked, keeping your eyes closed while carefully holding your hand out to her, allowing her to hold it in her own. Her hand raised yours up to her lips to place a kiss on your palm before she slid something onto your wrist. Your eyes shot open at the feeling, taking a minute to adjust to the light before settling on the mass of bracelets that she had slid onto your arm.

You felt the tension leave your shoulders as soon as you saw her surprise, relaxed that it was something so small yet so sweet. There were at least five on your wrist already, and a pile more in her hands that she hadn’t given you yet.

“They’re friendship bracelets!” Your girlfriend was basically bouncing up and down, smiling up at you, completely giddy over her creation. Each one was full of plastic beads along with some white letter beads, all spelling out something different. Some were chunky, childlike, beads in a mix of neon colors while others were small little ones in intricate patterns. Each one clearly had a significant amount of thought put into it.

“Is this what you’ve been working on all week?” You smiled brightly at her, touched by how excited she was to make you these.

“Si, si, let me show you all of them.” She still had a hold of your hand as she dragged you over to the couch to tell you her thoughts behind every single bracelet she made you.

“So this one is for Barcelona, obviously.” The bracelet was full of alternating red and blue beads with a number four in the middle. “I made one with your number and then I thought, ‘would it be too cliche if we matched?’ and I decided no, so then I made one for me with my number. But then I liked yours better so I figured we could trade and just have each other’s number.” You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched her ramble, continuing to talk through all of them, barely keeping up with the speed she was speaking at.

“So this one is a mix of both of our favorite colors, plus green because I think if Bagheera had a favorite color it would be green, and then it has each of our initials plus BL for-”

“For Bagheera León.” You finished her sentence for her as you both giggled.

“Si, si, for Bagheera. So we both have that one matching and also I made one for Bagheera but she doesn’t really like it very much but we can make her wear it if you want a picture of us all matching.”

She pulled at another one. “This one’s your national team colors and number but I also made one that’s those colors mixed with Barça colors cause that seemed like something you would like cause that’s all of the colors then. I figure maybe when you play I’ll wear that one for good luck. As long as you let me borrow it of course. This one says ‘I heart Mapi’ because we can’t have you forgetting that. But this one says ‘I heart you’ cause I do, and I don’t want you forgetting that either.”

“I love you so much, María.” She looked up for the first time since she started her rambling, needing to catch her breath all of the sudden, as you left a kiss on her nose. “Thank you. For all of these. They are really sweet, I love them.”

“Well I was bored and you told me to find a project, so I did. And it was fun! It kept me busy. And I like making things for you.”

“Well they’re perfect. Maybe I need to leave more often so I keep coming home to things like this.” You gave her a smirk, knowing exactly the reaction you’d get as you watched her jaw drop, ready to start complaining about her potential boredom once again.

“You better be joking cause that was too long for me. Next time if I still can’t play, you’re bringing me with you.” She pulled you in for a long, hard, kiss, much deeper than the ones she’d left you so far.

“Deal,” you mumbled into her lips, before she pulled you impossibly closer, knowing you were both in for a fun night.

Would love some requests to get the inspo flowing :)

Masterlist

#mapi leon #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon x reader #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #barca femeni #woso #woso one shot #woso x reader #espwnt #mapi león #wosoreadingmapi #wosoreading24/7

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sometimesliterate · 1 day

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progression | aventurine blurb

loving aventurine was as easy as breathing to you, something incredibly hard for him to grasp. he didn't get it at all. when he first walked into your life, he had this arrogant mask up, another one of his well preserved fabrications to protect himself. he was snarky to you. not necessarily rude, but he wasn't afraid to bare his fangs and show you that he was capable of hurting you if he needed to. he wasn't afraid of hurting anyone. another gamble he was putting his faith in, that he wouldn't be put in a situation where he would have to hurt you.

you loved him during that stage. every sarcastic 'friend' he tacked on to every sentence like it was more of an insult than anything else, every boundary that he crossed of yours, every little lie he spun to keep you at arms length, trying to protect you from his teeth. words hurt less than his bite. and yet, you were there for him even when he was sure he would have pushed you away, and it unnerved him.

" aventurine ~ " you called out from behind him to get his attention, before lightly jogging up to him, standing by his side. not in front of him, but beside him. " i know you might be busy today with business as usual, but i was hoping that you were free this afternoon ? there's this new coffee shop that opened up, and i though- "

" coffee ? sorry to disappoint you, friend, but i am busy this afternoon, " he shook his head, as if dismissing the idea outright entirely.

" oh, that's okay ! i'm still able to say hi right now while we're walking, so that's enough, " you chirped, but he could hear the unmistakable sound of disappointment and sadness in your tone, making the guilt inside of him at being the one who caused your unhappiness eat him alive. but the look on his face didn't change, his walls too big to penetrate.

he did find you at that coffee shop, though. " oh, hello, friend- " he had called out, approaching your table, sitting next to you without even asking. he saw your eyes light up, and for a second he felt the warmth in his chest burst forward, his heart beating against his ribcage. " what good fortune that i was able to finish my tasks a little while ago. i didn't think you would actually come here alone. " there was a hint of confusion in his voice, but it was masked just as quickly as it came.

after this interaction, aventurine got a little awkward with you. what was he expected to say ? what did he do if he wasn't trying to push you away ? he was clumsy with his words, often just silently nodding along as you talked, and sometimes bringing up tiny points. he wasn't good at conversation when it wasn't to serve an agenda. being in survival mode his entire life, he had no idea how to be social, much less to someone as kind as you.

no matter how much he stumbled and fell over his own words, you treated him the same. he approached you cautiously, as if he was afraid that one day you would get sick of him and throw him out of your life permanently. was his personality too much for you to handle ? was he doing something wrong ? he wasn't sure, this was uncharted territory for him. all he could do was throw his dice and hope for the best outcome, something that was so comforting now unnerving. he could bet every single one of his chips, every possession he owned, including his own life, but you ? betting on you felt like one risk he wasn't willing to take.

" hey- i was at this shop a while ago, and i was hoping that you'd want to visit ? with me, of course, " aventurine asked, trying very hard not to look how pretty you looked right now, how your smile made his heart flutter every single time without fail. " i saw something i thought you might like. i wanted to get it for you but i don't know your size. "

" oh ? yeah, i'd love to go with you ! " you agreed immediately, as if everything that you were doing before this was suddenly unimportant. " but you really don't have to pay for me, honestly. i can take care of myself. "

this through him for a loop, and he hid it well, but aventurine had no idea what that meant. did you not want him to pay for you ? or were you just trying to be modest ? it wasn't like he was hungry for money, it was fine on his pockets, and he didn't mind spending if it meant spending on you, of course. besides, what did you want from accompanying him if it wasn't to buy things ? that's what friends were for, right ? it was a mutual beneficial agreement between two people to be friendly with each other to gain something from another, right ?

he was pretty sure that was how it was to be friends, but you challenged all of that. especially when you bought him a drink from a shop. he'd just mentioned it offhanded that he could go for some boba tea, and you had agreed, saying that it would be really good right now. and then you bought him his ? that's not how that was supposed to work, he was sure of it. why would you go out of your way to pay for something for him that you yourself wouldn't even get to enjoy ? he was willing to buy you things to keep you around him, but you didn't need to buy him anything to keep him around.

the possibility that you didn't want anything from him other than his time and himself was confusion, but refreshing.

eventually late night outs became late nights inside, and aventurine found himself in a precarious position, on your couch, your body on the other side, cuddling up against a pillow. the intimacy of the situation felt like it was choking him. and he finally got the courage to ask you the question that plagued him - why ? why did you care ? why did you try so hard ? what was in it for you ? putting your bets on him was a foolish decision that he couldn't rationalize. even he didn't bet on himself.

" because you're worth it, " you shrugged a little, the answer's simplicity wiping everything from him. all of his fears, his confusion, his doubts, just for this moment. right now, he understood. you never pushed him out of his comfort zone, and let your companionship evolve naturally. he didn't even realize he had let you inside of his shell before it was too late. " because you deserve it. "

he thought you were worth it, too. trusting you, putting his faith in you even though you had the ability to hurt him. it was worth it. you were worth it.

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #honkai sr #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine #honkai star rail aventurine #star rail aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine fluff #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr imagines

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pinkiemachine · 1 day

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I’ve only done some light reading on Selina, but even so, details on her past seem few and far between. Maybe there’s a reason, maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough, whatever. Someone can enlighten me in the comments. What I do know, however, is that she’s eluded to have experienced some form of abuse as a child. Now, this research came on the heels of brushing up on the rest of Batman’s rogues’ gallery and I gotta say, abuse as a backstory comes up a lot. And I’m just sitting here, like, “There are so many unique people in this world with unique traumas and hurts that this feels almost cookie cutter.” Am I wrong? I just wanna be more specific and explore problems more intimately. So… Selina Kyle. What to write for her backstory? I thought a lot about who she is as a character present day—her playful aloofness, her decision to become a cat burglar, breaking rules as if they don’t exist, always on the run, never settling down with anyone long term, stealing nice things for herself—it led me to this backstory: When Selina was a child, she was horribly neglected. Her father was almost never around and her mother was depressed, anxious, under the influence of alcohol quite often, and wished she never had a daughter. Selina found that it was always easier to live as though she were invisible. If she never got caught making a mess or being noisy or causing problems, her mother would never get mad at her, or even a acknowledge her, and neither would her father if he ever showed his face. She never received birthday gifts—or if she did, they were pitiful—and all of her attempts of reaching out via gifts to her mother and father were rejected. She was never loved and grew to believe that the only way she would ever feel cared for is if she just took care of herself and only herself. She was good at being invisible, and so she became good at stealing. She treated herself to nice things whenever she felt like it, and she rarely ever got caught. She never made close friends. She never really fell in love. She built up walls so high that no one could ever break them down… until she met Bruce. Suddenly, here was a guy who could consistently catch her red-handed. Who told her she needed to stop robbing people. Who believed she could be better. Who saw her. And even though she kept double-crossing him, escaping his grasp, and escaping justice, she found that it was a little bit harder to return to crime every time. She had always found him attractive… but the longer they chased each other around Gotham, and the longer he showed that he wasn’t going to ignore her or give up on her, the more that attraction turned into a deep feeling that Selina had never felt before. True love. She was scared of it. She didn’t know what to do with it. It was completely the opposite of everything she had ever known, and she secretly didn’t think she deserved it. After all, she was a criminal. She was a “bad guy.” Someone who stole from others for pleasure and profit. And yet Bruce believed she was a good person deep down. He believed she had the capacity for change. And in time, he would find himself falling in love with her too. By the end of their story, naturally, those walls had come crumbling down and they had each learned how to love again, something they both thought would never happen to them. 💜

#fan art #art #dc #dc comics #batman #Bruce wayne #Selina Kyle #Catwoman #batxcat

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adriennebarnes · 2 days

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That’s That Me Espresso

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles and Y/N have been dating for a few weeks, they met after the Suzuka Grand Prix. Even though their relationship has been short lived, there’s something about her that has Charles down bad. They are living proof of how the boyfriend should always like the girlfriend more.

Warning: Grammatical and spelling errors

A/N: For those who voted for idea 2, about Charles being auctioned off for charity? Yeah, I'm not vibing with that idea anymore. But i am working on the fanfic where Charles thinks Y/N likes Lando.

Charles was never one to chase girls. Sure, in every relationship he was in, he was the best boyfriend he could be, he would be so devoted to them. But in his current relationship, he has never felt this way before. He was away for the Imola Grand prix and he couldn't sleep so he decided to call Y/N. After a few rings, she answered.

"Bueno?" Y/N asked sleepily.

"Hello, mon ange, did I wake you?" Charles asked.

"Sort of, is something wrong, Charlie?" Y/N asked.

"Oh nothing, I'm just having trouble sleeping without you here, you know?" Charles said.

"I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to this Grand Prix, cariño, i just have a lot of in-person meetings. Plus, you've been to countless races before, you would think you'd be used to sleeping alone." Y/N said.

"Yes, but that was before i met you. Now when i'm in bed alone, it feels like I'm missing something.” Charles confessed.

“You’re so sweet. But seriously, muñeco, you have media day in the morning, and I can’t have you be sleepy during the interviews, Fred would kill you.” Y/N said.

“No he wouldn’t, I’m il predestinato, the prince of Ferrari.” Charles said.

“Muñeco.” Y/N warned.

“Alright Mon ange, I’ll go to sleep, but please FaceTime me before you go to work.” Charles said.

“Of course, Charlie. Te quiero mucho, Goodnight.” Y/N said.

“Yo también te quiero, Goodnight.” Charles tried his best to say in Spanish and he hung up.

The next morning, Y/N woke up, showered, did her after shower routine, got dressed and she was about to make breakfast when Charles decided to FaceTime her. She answered.

“Muñeco, how are you? Did you get some sleep?” Y/N asked.

“I did actually, it took a while though.” Charles said.

“Well when you’re back in Monaco, I’ll be sleeping by your side.” Y/N said, she set her phone against something in the kitchen so she can make pancakes.

“Sounds perfect, I’ll be counting down the days.” Charles said.

“You think you’ll make podium?” Y/N asked.

“I’ll dedicate my podium to you, Mon ange.” Charles said. They kept talking while Y/N made her breakfast, Charles also took his phone with him to eat when his room service came so they had breakfast together,

“Charlie, baby, i need to go to work, okay, I’ll talk to you soon, te quiero.” Y/N said.

“Yo más.” Charles replied and hung up the call. There was a knock on his hotel room door and he opened it to see Carlos. “Good morning, Carlos.”

“Morning. Were you talking with Y/N?” Carlos asked

“Yes i was.” Charles replied smiling.

“Ay, I should have known, she has you completely smitten.” Carlos says.

“I know, mate, there’s just something about her.” Charles said, sighing like a person in love.

“You are whipped, it’s entertaining to see you like that. We need to head to paddock now for the interviews.” Carlos said before him and Charles left the hotel room.

Meanwhile, Y/N was finishing up her third meeting of the day when she got w FaceTime call from Y/N so she excused herself.

“Charlie querido, what is it? I’m technically still in a meeting.” Y/N said.

“Sorry Mon ange, I just wanted to see how you are, I am on break right now and then I have more interviews before the race,” Charles said.

“I’m fine, just a little tired, I call you later tonight okay? Then you can tell me all about your day. Te quiero.” Y/N said, blowing him a kiss.

“Yo más” Charles said, doing the same thing before hanging up. Y/N was about to enter the conference room again but she was stopped by her assistant.

“You got that man wrapped around your finger.” Monica commented,

“Well i wouldn’t necessarily say that I have him wrapped around my finger. Pero es si, lo tengo mal (But Yeah, i got him down bad).” Y/N said.

“How? Like what’s your secret?” Monica asked.

“There’s no secret, it’s just that me espresso.” Y/N said.

“Ha ha, no go, you have a meeting to run.” Monica said. Y/N entered the conference room to continue the meeting.

Her workday was done and she got a text from Charles and it was a link to one of his interviews. She clicked on it and she was watching it but there was a question that Charles answered that surprised her.

“Charles Leclerc, what is your favorite saying?” The interviewer asked.

“I Don’t know if it’s a popular saying or an actual saying in general, but my girlfriend says ‘that’s that me espresso’. When she was younger, her mom would say she was like a shot so espresso because of how hyper and energetic she was as a child, basically bouncing off the walls. So now when I ask her a question about anything she does, she’ll say that’s that me espresso or it’s just that me espresso, meaning that’s just how she is. How do I get crying babies to stop? That’s that me espresso, I have no idea but I guess I just have a calming presence.” Charles said laughing. Y/N stopped the video and FaceTimed Charles,

“Hey Muñeco.” Y/N said.

“Hello, ma Belle, did you see that interview?” Charles asked.

“I did, you used my phrase.” Y/N said.

“Of course I did, it’s my favorite saying in the world, it perfectly describes you. You are a shot of espresso, a moment with you has me smiling for hours, I can’t get enough of you.” Charles said,

“Eres tan cursi (you are so cheesy) but i love that about you.” Y/N said.

They continued talking until it was time for bed.

Race Weekend was done and Y/N can continue working from her home office, she didn’t didn’t have any meetings to attend to in person, she was free. She was finishing up some files when the doorbell rang. Y/N got up and answered the door and she saw a huge bouquet of her favorite flowers (mine are peonies because of Blair Waldorf).

“Whats this?” Y/N asked and the bouquet of flowers were lowered to reveal a smiling Charles Leclerc. “Muñeco!”

“Mon ange!” Charles exclaimed, they entered her apartment and they hugged as soon as charles put the bouquet on the kitchen counter, he spun her around and out her back on the ground to leave her kisses all over her face. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow, did you come here straight from the airport?” Y/N asked, taking in Charles’s hoodie and baggy jeans,

“Yes I did. I stopped by the florist first, obviously.” Charles said, gesturing to the bouquet,

“They’re beautiful.” Y/N said. “What brings you here?”

“Because I wanted to tell you up something important. I know we haven’t been dating for a long time but I have never felt this strongly about someone, I love you, te amo, estoy enamorado de ti (i am in love with you).” Charles said. Y/N starts tearing up,

“Ay muñeco, yo también te amo.” Y/N said, hugging him. “Je suis amoureux de toi.” Now it was Charles’s turn to tear up, she just told him she was in love with him too. They kissed.

“I fall in love with you more and more each day, I can’t get enough of you, how do you do that?” Charles asked, brushing Y/N’s hair back. Y/N just shrugged.

“That’s that me espresso.” Y/N said and both of them laughed, Charles pulled Y/N onto the couch and started talking about where to go out today,

The End

I had no idea where I was going with this short imagine but I hope y’all like it!

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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sleep-deprived-loki · 1 day

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RULES OF BEING OTHERKIN #1

Being authentic and true to yourself is the only way you are 'supposed to be/act like' (insert entity). If anyone else disagrees it only tells you about them.

#going to start a small 'series' where I document stuff I learn that is otherkin specific. This is for myself as well as anyone who might #be struggling with things I used to/am working on(otherkin specific). hopefully this will reduce any mental pitfalls other otherkin may #fall into as they explore their identity and help out someone.#this 'rule' took a LONG time to fully understand and grasp. for the longest time I would consciously or subconsciously #think I was less Loki if I did or was something 'Loki would never do. until i realized I do exactly and experience exactly what Loki does #and experiences because...Im literally Loki. (talking about incarnations here). I felt pressured to be a certain way because 'Loki would #never (insert). being aroace is on of them. i tried to convince myself I wasn't aroace #and when I finally ran out of reasons i felt i was 'less Loki' because mythologically hes like the opposite. but Loki IS aroace. because #Im Loki. and Im aroace. so loki is SUPPOSED to be aroace because Im loki and im being exactly how loki is being. because im loki. being #myself. therefore being exactly like Loki. again - incarnation.#anyway....if anyone else struggles with this I hope this helps someone. its a really sucky place to be in honestly.#godkin #deitykin #alterhuman #otherkin #divinekin #nonhuman #alterbeing #therian #I think I will be learning a LOT more as I keep exploring and I will note down any 'rules' I learn - more like lessons but rules personally #sound more right for me. rules i will live by (yknow unless i find out im wrong but...im going to trust myself more and right now i feel #like this rule is true. so im using it as such unless i find out im wrong in future.

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rrei1 · 3 days

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❥# — 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘰 fluff, softie!bakugo, kissing

☆ — 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 bakugo can’t sleep without your touches

❣︎ — 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 heyoooo, I had this idea to write a cute lil fic about bakugo :). I’m slowly starting to write for different anime so if you have any in mind let me know!. enjoy the story.

“ 𝖳𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖢𝗎𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌 “ 𝖪𝖠𝖳𝖲𝖴𝖪𝖨 𝖡𝖠𝖪𝖴𝖦𝖮 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

❤︎︎︎# — 𝖡𝖠𝖪𝖴𝖦𝖮 It was strange that katsuki suddenly texted you, there was something probably going on but you didn't wanna assume, so you got up from bed to walk to the boys side of the dorm. it was dark and quiet considering everyone was sleep, making it to his door. you softly knocked against the wood, not even a minute he swings It open, he looked grumpy. "you know I can get in trouble right?." he rolled his eyes, "shut up stupid and come in." you gave a small chuckled, walking into his door leaning up to peck his lips, shutting the door behind you both. "you look grumpy. what's wrong?." he groaned, "I already told you nothing is wrong." — "then why am I here?." you raised a brow going to sit on his bed who looked away, he was quiet. "kat?." again he grumbled. was there something he didn't wanna say?. "katsuki bakugo." you squinted your eyes towards him who groaned finally looking back up to you, "I jus missed you.." he mumbled but you heard him, smiling softly. when he didn't get an answer, he just seen you pat the spot on the bed, he didn't complain, getting into his bed cuddling with you.

he looked flustered. "you miss me?." he snarled, "I'm not repeating myself you idiot." — "never told you to." you teased with a chuckle kissing his nose, you always loved moments like this, katsuki letting his guard down and being calm as you both cuddle with eachother in bed.. though he is a hot head he was yours. in reality, he didn't want to admit that your touches and warmth gave him comfort— comfortable enough to sleep peacefully, he was a fool for affection— but just from you. you were surprised at first that katsuki let you touch him going beyond playing his hair and kissing him considering he hates being touched but it's different when you're the one touching him. your hands are so warm and soft against his skin, the way you would play with his hair, or cuddle him, kiss him. it showed a complete different side of him. he sighed softly feeling your fingers in his hair messaging his scalp as he held you close, "you're such a baby." you scoffed hearing him mumble a small shut up with a pinch to the waist, "If you wanted to cuddle you could've said that~." again he pinched you but on your stomach, a bit harder this time, flinching from the stinging pain."shut up and sleep." he's one to talk. you got woken up from your sleep.

you rolled your eyes snickering, "you're one to talk tough guy. you woke me up." you pouted, was having a good ole dream. katsuki mumbled a small, "sorry." something that was rarely ever said but you could tell he was he getting sleepy, his breaths were going shallow as his body relaxed more into your arms, but before he could let his eyes betray him. he lifted his head to look up at you, your beautiful face..he leaned a bit with a small grin. “you look pretty." you tilted your head with a small smile feeling your heart flutter, "I do?." he hummed, "yeah.." he whispered back before leaning in close to take your lips with his. it was a small and gentle kiss, sighing in relief that his night can finally end. after a few seconds he broke apart the kiss cuddling against your neck finally letting sleep take over. seeing this side of bakugo really made your love for him grow stronger, he wasn't the same kid you knew since middle. he's grown. and you're proud of him for that. for a few minutes that went by of playing with his hair and listening to his soft snores sleep soon took over you as well.

#black reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #{ 🖋️} writings #fluff #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x black reader #black y/n #mha x reader #mha x black reader

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burnthoneydrops · 3 days

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Language of Flowers (b.b. x fem!reader)

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: classism, use of "miss" and "y/n", stubborn mc

a/n: class differences in historical fiction have my heart and what better man to write them for than benedict! hope you enjoy and requests are open!

For all your years helping run your family’s flower shop, you could not remember a day as memorable as this. You were in the back of the shop, cutting stems and bunching bundles of similar flowers together when you heard your little sister gasp from her spot in the doorway. Though gentlemen callers were not entirely uncommon, as flowers were a typical house gift when men went to call on their chosen lady, this one seemed to have caught her by surprise.

“Who’s there Abigail?” you asked without turning around. “Abigail?” you asked again when she did not respond. It only took one look at the familiar chestnut head of hair to understand why your sister had gone as silent as Mayfair during the ton’s visits to the country. There stood a Bridgerton. Abigail had been obsessed with them ever since she got one of the printer apprentices to give her a copy of the gossip column the ton had been infatuated with. Anything that was ever written about them, Abigail had saved and regaled you when you were both in bed after a day’s work.

“Y/N! I believe your expertise might be required,” your father called from the front of the shop, where he stood with parchment and a pencil, jotting down people’s requests.

Abigail had not moved from her spot in the doorway, effectively blocking you out. “Abigail, I need to get through,” you waved a hand in front of her face but she did not move. She was utterly and entirely captivated, so you resorted to picking her up by her waist and moving her to the side. The perks of her being your little sister meant that moving her came easier to you than moving you did to her.

“I was summoned?” You looked at your father who nodded at the man standing in front of him. “Yes sir, how can I help you today?”

“I am here to buy flowers for a lady-”

“What a novelty,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at the sheet your father had been working on moments before.

“Pardon?” The man asked, clearly not expecting to be cut off in such a manner.

“Apologies, good sir, you were saying?”

“I am buying flowers for a lady. You see, my brother has crossed his wife and wants to apologise, but has no time for such an errand so he has sent me-” “He has truly no space to make time for apologising to his wife?” You interrupted again.

“Do you interrupt every customer in this manner?”

“Only the ones with ridiculous stories,” you countered.

“I can assure you, despite how ridiculous it might sound, I speak nothing but the truth,” he looked at you, hoping you would change your mind. When you said nothing, he continued, “Now, I mentioned to your father earlier that I would like to gather flowers that mean an apology or makes it clear that the sender knows they have done some wrong-” “Ah, so you are keen on the language of flowers? I take it this has happened before then?” You interrupted yet again, raising a brow.

“Apologies for my sister, my lord, she has been working long hours lately,” your older sister Jeanine stepped in. She gave you a harsh look as she finished her sentence, nonverbally telling you to scoot out of the way. You huffed and pushed the sheet of paper with the man’s order on it towards her before making your way to the back of the shop to finish the arrangements from before.

It took Abigail no time at all to meet you back there, desperate to know how your interaction went. When you disappointed her with the fact that you had absolutely no thrilling news to report back, she smacked your arm and grabbed some flowers from the vases in the corner, complaining that you should have done a better job.

“Well perhaps if he was not exactly like all other men who enter this shop then I would have something interesting to share with you,” you responded, grabbing some baby’s breath to add in.

Jeanine came to greet you both with the sheet of parchment in hand, “something with an apology and sorrow but also suggesting forgiveness,” she muttered, looking at the selection in front of her.

“White roses, forget-me-nots, and pink tulips,” you commented without looking at her.

“If only you could do your job that easily in front of the customers”.

“If the customers were not all so alike and insufferable perhaps I could”.

“That poor Bridgerton did nothing to you and you know it,” Jeanine tried.

“He irked me, is that not enough?”

“Not when we are trying to keep a business afloat, no,” Jeanine replied as she stepped back onto the main floor to have Mr. Bridgerton pick the colour of ribbon with which the bouquet would be tied together. “Now there you are Mr. Bridgerton, and if I could grab a first name to keep our records in order and for possible future transactions?” Jeanine asked as she handed over the bouquet.

“Do I truly look so similar to my brothers that you cannot tell us apart?” Mr. Bridgerton jested, at least you hoped he was jesting.

“It is that arrogance that irritates me to be sure,” you muttered to Abigail.

“It is merely a formality my lord,” Jeanine laughed lightly as she looked at him expectantly.

“Benedict then, Benedict Bridgerton,” he placed the pound notes on the counter and picked up the bouquet, wishing Jeanine a pleasant day before scurrying away.

So the annoyance finally had a name.

A few days had passed, and it felt like you had pushed the interaction successfully out of your mind, when the universe decided to spite you once again. You had already been at the front of the shop this morning, but you wished to do nothing other than sink to the floor or send one of your sisters in your place.

“So we meet again,” Benedict announced, overly joyful.

“Well you did just walk into the shop my family happens to own-”

“I was hoping to make your acquaintance once again-” “At least one of us seems happy about it,” you conversed over each other, making it appear as if the dialogue had no point of breath.

“I firstly wished to inform you that the flowers worked wonders and greatly aided my brother in his apology-” “Wonderful, now if that is all there is quite the queue forming behind you-”

“And that I have a plan to get you to change your mind,” Benedict finished his thought and it struck you silent. You must have done two or three big, slow blinks before what he said fully sank in, leaving you only more confused. “I must say, it is much easier to think when you are not constantly fighting back at me,” he smiled and you wanted to reach over the counter and smack that smile clean off his face.

“Change my mind? On the flowers? I thought you said they were a great success?”

“Oh no, not about the flowers,” he waved his finger back and forth in front of you, “about me”.

“About you?” You questioned with raised brows, a scoff of disbelief escaping past your lips.

“Yes. I noticed the other day we left off on quite the wrong foot and I would like to change your mind”.

“And why do you think that is Mr. Bridgerton?” you bent your elbows a little and leaned closer into him from your spot over the counter.

“Well I was not entirely sure, but I figured if I could get 10 minutes alone with you, your opinion of me would be much improved”.

“Has anyone ever told you they do not like you Mr. Bridgerton? Has anyone, especially someone below your status, been honest enough with you to display how they truly feel about you? You might consider that notion and find the root of our problem there. I know you do not care much for your high society Mr. Bridgerton,” you noticed his ears prick up, so to quickly shut him down, “and do not think too deeply about my knowing of you for Lady Whistledown has printed much more than I cared to know, but as soon as someone is off with you, you suddenly become interested. Your ego is much too inflated to reason with the fact that some people just might not like you, present company included, and you cannot stand it”.

Now it was Benedict’s turn to blink slowly, as your speech had halted all his energy to a standstill. “Good day, Mr. Bridgerton,” you shooed him out of the shop with your hand, waving forward the next customer who had been waiting very awkwardly a few paces behind this encounter. You sighed deeply, mentally resetting yourself back to your more demure customer service appearance.

Mr. Bridgerton had not been back for at least two weeks, not that you were counting of course, and though you claimed you were not thinking about him, you hated to admit how much that man had taken of your mental space. It did not help that Abigail was insistent that you two were fated to meet again somehow, even though you had explicitly told her you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Jeanine was upset that you had lost a valuable customer, but the money that he could have possibly brought in was the last thing on your mind. The season was usually a high reward time for your family’s shop anyway, you were sure one lord would not be such a loss.

On an afternoon that felt uncomfortably reminiscent of your first meeting, the bell above the front door rang as you were arranging a bouquet in the back. Abigail gasped from her spot in the doorway, and you did not even want to turn around and guess what caught her breath this time. “Oh my god,” Jeanine muttered, joining Abigail in the doorway as a pair of frantic feet made their way to your father at the counter. “Good afternoon, I should like to ask for a moment alone with Miss Y/N”.

You nearly dropped the flowers in your hands and stood staring at the wall while the heads of both your sisters whipped around to look at you, mouths dropped and eyes wide. Your father did not really know how to comprehend the situation, to be honest none of you did, but one nod from him and Abigail was grabbing the flowers out of your hands while Jeanine pushed you forward through the entryway. Your feet were cement, standing in front of the man that definitely had not been occupying your mind for days on end, his arms stuffed with different boxes and trinkets.

As if taking advantage of the silence, Benedict started, “I come bearing gifts. It occurred to me that I had no idea what your preferences were and with the safe answer of flowers obviously gone I got,” he dropped some of the goods on the counter, “these”. There were chocolates and pieces of jewellery and perfumes and accessories. You stared in awe at the collection before you, admiring the beauty of them all before you snapped back into reality. Benedict Bridgerton had come to spoil you in an attempt to win you over and you could not stand for it.

“If you think gifts are going to magically change my mind then you are-”

“Oh they are not for you. Well not exclusively anyway, I believed some of them to be for your family”.

It took your sisters absolutely no time at all to rush over to the counter, rummaging through all the items present and claiming their picks before your mother and father came to join you on either side. With a quick scolding from your mother and a muttered thank you to Benedict, your sisters were off, resuming their position in the doorway. “I hope I am not interrupting any major, I just wished to spend the afternoon with your daughter,” Benedict glanced between your parents, silently asking for permission.

“Well I do not see why not,” your mother replied, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Mother!” You hissed, surprised she would respond in the affirmative so quickly.

“What? It is not like you get out of here much anyway!” Your father piped up, making you tilt your chin down in embarrassment and kick his shin under the counter. Benedict stifled a laugh, and you could sense his eyes on you as you kept your head down. “The pleasure is all yours,” your father looked at Benedict as he and your mother stepped back, laughing between themselves.

“I figured a walk would do us both some good,” Benedict put his hands behind his back as you looked up at him, suddenly very aware of how much he towered over you.

“What makes you think I have the time to just step out and walk around with you? In case you were not aware, I am currently working-”

“Oh for god’s sake! Just go!” Jeanine yelled from the back, her and Abigail having given the two of you some privacy. You huffed, crossing your arms in front of you and mentally squaring up Benedict before rolling your eyes. “I suppose one afternoon wouldn’t hurt, but if you try anything I swear-” His hands shot up in defence, “You have my word, nothing nefarious will take place. I simply want to walk”.

“A walk it is then,” you nodded, making your way around the counter and into the main section of the shop.

“I promise, you will not regret this,” Benedict commented, clearly happy with himself as he opened the door for you to walk through.

“Let’s not go making promises we’re not certain we can keep”.

“I feel pretty certain about this one”.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction

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written-in-flowers · 3 days

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His Student: Demon!Yeosang x Fem!Reader

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

Word Count: 11k

Genre: smut (lots), angst MINORS DNI

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

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

@pirateeznet

Previously on Pretty Pet | > Next

***

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not sick.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I don’t?” you shot at him.

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

“Bet you’d love that, huh?”

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Jongho.”

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

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

“Fucking pet…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He coughed awkwardly, “Yes, we are.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A grandson.”

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

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

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

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

“19th?”

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

“The medieval period, I know.”

“The High Middle Ages, YN.”

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

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

“What generations are Masters Hongjoong and San?”

“Master Hongjoong is from the 18th generation as well; he was born in 1755, while Master Seonghwa was born in 1754,” he said. “Master San is the youngest in the 20th generation, being born in 1910”

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

“Yes.”

“Which would make you older than me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never played again.

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

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

You missed her smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“YN!”

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

“YN? Yeosang?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Away from you!”

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

“YN, what’s going on?”

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

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

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

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

“YN’s a maneater.”

“She’s a snake in the grass.”

“A viper with pretty teeth.”

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

“Leave me alone.”

“You lost that-”

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

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

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

Yeosang growled deep in his chest and charged at you. The moment he gripped your wrist, you slammed your fist into the center of his face. Your knuckles burned, but it felt worth it to see his nose bleed. The two of you scowled and snarled at one another. Like two animals in a cage, you clashed at once. Yeosang punched your cheek hard, bringing a stinging you’d grown used to right away. You wrestled him to the ground, something you didn’t know how to do but did it anyway. Dirt and gravel shifted as the two of you slapped, punched and kicked one another. You saw the red in Yeosang’s eyes fill them completely, dark and angry as he bared sharp fangs. The brief second let you slam your fist into his jaw. His body felt hard and hot against yours even under all the layers. You could tell he had a similar build to Mingi, albeit smaller and shorter. Grabbing at his arms, the hard muscles flexed under your hands. When your body collided with his, you took in the slight, strong frame. He'd be fuckable if you didn't hate him. The two of you paused for a moment, both of you panting heavily and bleeding. You stared up into his face, seeing his wide eyes and soft lips. He gazed down your own face as if really taking you in. Then Yeosang ripped the ties keeping your dress closed.

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

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

“Fuck you!”

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

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

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

“It’s not tiny!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t make me laugh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like fun.”

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

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

Rather than argue, you removed the jacket.

And the dress.

And your bra.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The only bitch is you.”

You squeaked when a hand smacked across your ass again. He went back to explaining the areas of the map, where the inner cities were and which families lived in them. When he demanded you repeat the information back to him, he cupped both your breasts and squeezed them. It only mildly distracted you. As you described every prince and their heirs, Yeosang nibbled at your neck and slipped his hand between your legs. Your pussy, still wet from the garden, felt sensitive to his touches.

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

“-Yes, I am the heir of this land.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nobody was laughing but you-”

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

“No,” you answered.

“Then who blew the dining room doors?”

“Yeosang!”

“What?! It wasn’t me! It was you!”

“I’m a human. I couldn’t have.”

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

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

“In the garden,” you said.

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

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

“Hit each other,” you answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you answered in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You fucking bitch,” Yeosang growled.

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

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

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

“Hate fucking. Care to watch?”

“Absolutely. I love a good hate fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tickling isn’t that weird…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s still you, bitch!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck her ass,” Seonghwa chanted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Why me?”

“You’re the youngest.”

“And the biggest,” he argued back.

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

“On the bed, bitch.”

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

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

“Isn’t that the truth?”

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

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

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

“Oh fuck, look at this.”

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

“Ma-Mas-t-er…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Here, lay back against the pillows.”

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

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

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

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

“He really is,” agreed Seonghwa.

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

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

“You promise?” you asked softly.

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

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

“Dude, what happened to your doors?”

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose so, sir.”

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

“Master?”

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

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

“Are you fond of cinnamon-apples?”

“I do enjoy them on occasion.”

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

“I am aware, sir.”

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

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

“San says he smells orange slices.”

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

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

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

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

“Do you believe otherwise?”

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

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

“The same.”

“Huh…And the doors-”

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

“Then who did it?”

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

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

“Then what do you believe happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Master.”

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

But, where was the fun in that?

***

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

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #kang yeosang #yeosang ateez #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #yeosang x yn #ateez smut #ateez x reader #yeosang smut #kang yeosang smut

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