#OH AND I PAID FOR ALL YOUR FOOD THIS WEEKEND AGAIN TOO

[written-in-flowers]

His Obsession: Demon!Mingi x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubi!Mingi x Fem!reader | side pairings: demonline x fem, yunho x mingi

Word count: 17k

Genre: smut, fluff, and slight angst MINORS DNI

Summary: A startling realization has YN questioning everything she knew about herself. With help from Mingi and the mysterious "Dennis", she learns quickly that she's more than a mere slave.

Tags: master/slave dynamic, enslavement, bondage, poly relationship (mmmf), animal death (a mouse), monster fucking, tentacle sex, demon fucking, bisexual sex, foursome (m/m/m/f), threesome (m/f/m?), science experiments mentioned/implied, suspension, tit fucking, dirty talk, name calling, cream pie, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of violence/torture, very slight feederism, voyeurism, auralism (slight), double penetration, rough oral sex, oral sex.

Previously on Pretty Pet > Next

***

Must he be tortured this way? Mingi thought he might lose his mind at this rate. Standing outside Seonghwa’s bedroom, he overheard everything. From the “fight” with Yeosang to you accepting the loser's punishment, Mingi stood by as always and listened. He considered sneaking inside to watch from the shadows, but knew better. Part of being a bodyguard is remaining at his post unless called elsewhere. The young lords hired him for a reason; he won't give them an excuse to fire him. 

Instead, Mingi stood by the door and listened. He heard your loud moans and groans. The images your sounds created tortured him. He spent his entire day around you whether you knew it or not. Mingi stood watch as Jongho helped you bathe. He stayed outside the rooms you occupied. On the few times you went into the city, he walked right behind you. That was his place: five paces behind you. This meant he was subjected to your body. Your soft floral scent wafted over to him each time you moved; his eyes constantly landed on your ass, taking in the shape and curve of it from afar. The night he watched Hongjoong tie you up was the best thing he'd ever seen. Mingi couldn’t count how many times he stayed up late thinking of his dick in your throat. 

Mingi turned his head when the door latch clicked. Yeosang walked out of the room, dazed and exhausted from his time with you. He felt compelled to ask his cousin how things went. He died to know the details. Yet, all he said was:

“Rough fight?”

“Brutal, but I won.”

“As expected.”

“It got me the weekend off too.”

“Nice and well deserved.”

Yeosang bid him good night and walked towards the stairs. Mingi pictured himself in Yeosang’s position, floaty and giddy from the entanglement. You always sound so good. He yet to find a slum girl who fucks half as good as you. The ones he came across only did it because he paid them well. You sincerely enjoyed it and that alone aroused him. 

“Are they finished yet?” 

Yunho came around the corner with a tray of tea and biscuits. No doubt San or Seonghwa called for food to feed their pet. Yunho, handsome and tall, was the most devoted out of all the servants. He truly did not let his emotions get the better of him or let it interrupt his work. Though Mingi noticed that you tempted even the strongest of the staff. Cold serums and syrups became regular parts of his meals since you arrived. 

“I think so,” Mingi answered. “You're free to go in and attend to them.”

Yunho glanced down to his crotch to see the bump. Mingi’s cheeks flushed a light pink at the realization. He covered them with folded hands, acting natural and casual, but Yunho already saw. He stepped to him, eyes downcasted at the bulge, and he smirked. 

“Again, Mingi?’

“I can't help it,” he defended. “She's…”

“I know. She sounds so pretty,” he said. He then caressed the bulge with one hand, and Mingi crumbled. “She's not the only one. How about once they're asleep, you come to my room and we take care of our problems together?”

“Oh? You're a bit compromised, Mr. Jeong?” Mingi reached out for his groin, already feeling the length hidden in his pants. “I thought the house manager controlled his urges.”

“I can hold them off,” he said in a low voice, tracing the seam of Mingi’s pants. “Unlike some demons I know…”

“You'd get hardons too if you heard her getting fucked multiple times a day.”

“I bet I would. Too bad she's a slave,” he said, “I don't think I'd be able to control myself otherwise.”

“Then let's hope they throw her in the greenhouse. I don't mind getting a bit dirty.”

“I know you don't.”

Yunho grazed his lips over Mingi’s, then stepped away to open the door. The tightness Yunho created swelled inside his boxers. An image of having both you and Yunho made him internally whimper. He'd do anything to taste you again. He couldn't wait for tomorrow at least. It'd be a Hongjoong day, and the middle brother never refused a third partner. 

But Yunho’s body is equally delightful. 

****

His lips always felt so good on your skin. His plush mouth started at your shoulder before making its way to the curve of your neck. His thin arms always encompass you entirely to keep you close as he kisses you. You could hear him faintly inhale your scent, taking in your aroma amongst the mess around you. He didn't care if his brothers happened to be right beside you. To Hongjoong, for those few minutes of daybreak, in the silence of the bedchamber, you are his and only his. 

“Morning,” he said sleepily in your ear, kissing you just underneath the lobe. It'd become his favorite spot to kiss. 

“Morning,” you croaked, your voice hoarse and body aching. 

“Sleep well?”

“Like a baby.”

You slid from San’s arms and into Hongjoong’s completely. His smooth creamy skin glowed in the rays of light breaking through the curtains. Out of all the brothers, Hongjoong continued to be the enigma. Spending time with the brothers one at a time gave you an idea of their expectations. San expected hot meals and a clean apartment. Seonghwa liked intelligent conversation and listening to you play the piano. Hongjoong left you guessing and wondering. His schedule remained ambiguous, his preferences and kinks changed daily, and he never did the same thing twice. At times, he acted like a child, but you learned he mostly did it to annoy Seonghwa. He kept you on your toes, and you liked that. You snuggled against his chest when he pulled you in, and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Laying in Seonghwa’s bed, underneath the warm blankets, you could sleep in his arms forever. 

“Do you still feel any pain?” he asked, his hand gently rubbing your back. 

“Nothing out of the usual,” you said, shutting your eyes and washing yourself in his touch. “Your hands are rough,” you pointed out suddenly. 

“Do you not like that?”

“I do,” you assured him. The hand on your back slid down to your ass, tenderly cupping before coming upwards again. You put your hand on his chest, idly swirling patterns into the soft flesh. “It feels good on my skin.”

“I work with my hands often,” he told you, brushing hair from your face. “It comes from handling weapons and other things all day.”

You refused to learn what ‘other things’ are. “Gloves are a thing, you know.”

“I use them,” he said with a soft laugh, “But I sometimes like using my tools with bare hands. Something about breaking someone with nothing between me and them but my knives just…” you felt him shudder against you, “It gives a rush. It is the only time I feel anything, to be truthful.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve done every drug and drank every drink known to man,” he began, fingers gently tracing your spine. “I have tried every stimulant possible. Nothing has yet to beat torturing the people who end up in my chair. There’s a specific type of high you get when you’re slicing someone apart, and there’s nothing they can do but scream.” 

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because you’ve seen my dungeon,” he replied in a soft laugh. 

“I’ve also been on the receiving end of your whip. Many times, I might add.”

“I’ve never done it to an extent you don’t like,” he added. 

“And I imagine your victims don’t get that luxury.”

“They were terrible people in life, and it’s what they deserve now. I mean,” he scoffed, “You’re telling me that I should’ve let Hitler live out his afterlife in peace?”

“Hitler?!” your eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all,” he shook his head. “I’m not killing single moms that I stalked in the park or beating up old people. The people who end up in the lower dungeons deserve to be there. It makes what I do a million times more enjoyable than it already is.” 

“Still, it’s…”

“Gruesome? Gory? Psychopathic?”

“Sociopathic. You know what you’re doing is wrong.”

“Eh, is it, though? I’m only doing to them what they did to people in life,” he defended. 

“It really is a fine line.”

“Very fine.” He then gave you a sly smirk, “Just like you.”

You giggled, letting him lean in for another kiss. Tenderness laid in every caress of his lips on yours. A hand squeezed your breast, a rough thumb passing over your nipple softly. He drew it out of you so easily. Each of them coaxed your need from you like a milkshake through a straw. You loved and hated it. Rolling onto his back, Hongjoong swung your thigh over his groin and let you straddle him. He’d remained naked throughout the night, which brought on more torture for you. Hands falling to your thighs, he gently squeezed them and grinded into you. You rested your arms on either side of his head, somewhat trapping him underneath you as you kissed. 

“Grind into me,” he said in a breathy moan, encouraging you with a push of his own. “I want you to get wet for me again.” 

The both of you laughed softly and you did as asked. You really took in the length and width of him underneath you. Some people noted that your ability to handle a demon’s cock was impressive. Your body must be accustomed to them, you supposed. You certainly did not complain. His mouth finding your nipple, he sucked firmly while you rolled your hips over his hardening tip. This added a sprinkle of pleasure to top what was already built within you. Soon, needy whimpers and low grunts became muffled by your kisses. 

Excitement boiled in your stomach when he aligned himself with your entrance. You didn’t hesitate to slide down to the very hilt. Your body froze with the fullness he brought, only able to move because of your need for him took over. Hongjoong laid underneath you, hands on your thighs as he watched you rock your hips back and forth. Dark eyes rolled back, his head tilting into the pillow as your walls snuggly gripped him. When you started riding him up and down, you noticed another hand reach up to tease your nipple. 

“Now this,” San said, voice hoarse from sleep, “I love waking up every morning.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Hongjoong groaned, teasing the other nipple. “She makes me hard without even trying all that much.”

“You started it,” you smiled, taking a particularly slow and shallow bounce. Leaning over him, you brought him in for another kiss, “I was fine laying here and talking until Yeosang came.”

“Yeosang won’t be taking you for today.” Seonghwa wrapped himself around San from behind, and you couldn’t help noticing the hand hidden under the sheet. “I gave him the weekend off. Jongho will be taking care of you for a while.”

“Though, I doubt you’ll be complaining, huh?” Hongjoong, taking both your hands, started pushing up into you. You freely let out your moans, his tip pressing into the sensitive core. “Or did you like hate fucking him?”

“I lo-loved it,” you admitted. “I loved it so much.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” said San, eyes dropping as Seonghwa’s hand worked him slowly. He reached down to your clit, and you whimpered when his thumb started teasing it. “I’d love to man handle you that way. If you can't fight off skinny little Yeosang, you’ll definitely have trouble with me.”

“I think I’d lose on purpose.” 

Seeing you eyeing both him and San, Seonghwa removed the covers for you to see them pressed together. His narrow hips snapped up into San’s pert, firm ass, as he jerked him with the other hand. Hardly anything turned you on as much as watching your masters with one another. Something about their hard bodies pushed together, and strong hands roaming each other aroused you. San whimpered meekly when Seonghwa languidly stroked him in time with his thrusts. Nothing seemed off limits with your masters. Incubi, you’d learned, engaged in sexual acts regardless of gender or sex. It appeared to energize and fuel them rather than slow them down. 

Soon, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had you and San on your backs and knees in the air. Your hand snaked its way to San’s raging hardon, and he did the same to you. The slow build up quickened into a dire need that all four of you shared. In that moment, in the privacy of Seonghwa’s curtained bed, it was only you and them. Nothing could penetrate through the fine velvet curtains and interrupt you. With San’s fingers teasing your clit, his cock throbbing in your hand, Hongjoong’s dick filling you and Seonghwa pounding away at San, sent you over the edge sooner than you’d liked. But, this didn’t upset your masters at all. In a few quick pushes, Hongjoong spilled his thick hot seed inside you. This heightened your climax, and you pushed down to meet him. 

“You really do love being cummed in, huh?” he teased, holding you close and keeping himself deep inside you. 

“Yes,” you breathed, the last few drops of arousal disappearing in your orgasm. 

“Fuck, thaT’s so hot.”

You both gave breathy laughs before kissing. Next to you, San’s back arched as Seonghwa prodded his prostate dead center. You continued stroking him until  the tiniest of drops reached up to his chest. His stomach tensed and covered in white streaks, he never looked better. The four of you laid in silence, your collective breathing being the only sound in the room. Any minute, you expected the curtains to open and shatter the peaceful bliss floating around. You didn't want to leave the bed, not when you had your masters with you. Their arms kept you safe even if sticky and sweaty. But, Hongjoong left you first. 

“I'm starving,” he said, kissing you. “I'll see you at breakfast.”

You whined when he rolled away and left the bed. “I'm going to wash up,” San told you, “I'll be in the dining room later. You get some more sleep, if you want.”

It left you and Seonghwa alone. Even in your sleepy haze, you sensed the tension building. Not the passionate, sexual urge that usually boiled over between you, but something much more serious. Nervousness fumbled your insides, and you didn't know how to diffuse it. 

“YN,” Seonghwa said softly. Not your pet name. He said your true name; you thought you imagined it at first. When you didn't respond, he turned his head, “YN.”

“Master?”

“I am giving you one chance and only one,” he said. All tenderness from before left his voice and you wondered what you'd done. “I want an honest answer. If you answer honestly, I won't be upset with you.”

“Yes, Master?” 

“Are you a cambion?”

The question made you pause. “Why would you think that?”

“Answer my question.”

“I'm…I'm not, obviously. I'm human. I've always been human. I would know if I wasn’t, wouldn't I?”

Seonghwa stared at you intently. Even in the dimness of the curtained bed, you saw the crimson rimming his eyes. 

“I'd have eyes like yours, wouldn't I?” you continued, “I'd have horns and a tail-”

“-Not necessarily,” he said. “You can easily take more after your human parent than your demon one.”

“Master,” a trickle of fear started down your throat to your lungs, “I'm not. I can't be. If I was, they would have known when I came here.” 

“If your demon parent didn’t register you, then no, they wouldn’t. What were your parents’ names?”

“Jimmy and Andi.”

“What was Andi short for?”

“Andromeda,” you answered. “It's actually my middle name in my previous life. Relatives liked calling her ‘Big Andi’, and me ‘Little Andi’. They still did it even when I grew up-” you stopped when you saw his eyes widen. “What…Master?”

“Andromeda? Are you sure?” 

“Yes.”

He sprung out of the bed, wrapping himself in his satin bathrobe. You saw a realization come to him, and right when you sat up, he looked to the door. 

“Mingi!” 

Your bodyguard came from out of the shadows, giving a head nod. “Master Seonghwa?”

“Make sure Kitten gets her bath and breakfast,” he said distractedly, tying his robe. You could tell his mind ran ahead of his body. “Tell Yunho I'll be having my breakfast in the library today.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Master,” you crawled to the foot of the bed, “What's going on?”

He left you confused on the bed. You stared at the doorway in hopes he may return and explain himself. Yet, he never did. Why did your mother's name bother him? Why did he think you weren't human? You are. You can't be anything else. Rufus tried passing you off as a demon before, and they'd seen right through that. Everything he listed could be coincidence. The thought stayed with you as you slipped off the bed. Mingi made to grab your chemise for you, but you walked past him to the bathroom. As you moved around preparing your own bath, you wondered what brought up the question. You thought back to last night. Nothing appeared too out of the ordinary other than you wrestling with Yeosang, a demon. He must be mistaken, you realized sliding into the tub. 

“Here.”

Mingi came up beside the tub with a small glass bottle. You recognized the bubble bath mixture Jongho usually put in the water. Looking at the water, you realized you'd forgotten to put it in. 

“Oh, thanks,” you said, watching him pour a few drops into the water. Long fingers moved through the water to create small trails of bubbles for you. 

“What's going on?” he asked, shaking water off his hand. “He had that determined look in his eyes.”

“He thinks I'm a cambion.”

Mingi paused, as bewildered as you felt. “He's not serious?” he finally said. 

“He is,” you replied. You started cleaning yourself off, feeling the grime of last night coming off with each stroke. “He freaked when I told him my parents’ names. I don’t see the big deal. It's not like he'll find anything. I'm not a half-demon. If I was, I wouldn't be a slave. I wouldn’t have gone into a circle. I'd be living here like a normal demon, not like this.”

“You must have done something that caught his attention,” he said, taking a seat on the stool beside you. “Like, the door. Whoever did that nearly broke it off the hinges.”

“It was Yeosang,” you told him. “He's the demon, not me. He obviously got pissed at me, and blew them open without meaning to.”

“Yeosang might be a grandson of Satan, but he's an expert at controlling his emotions,” Mingi said. “Yesterday was one of the few times he’d broken it. When I saw you all torn up and limping, I thought he'd hurt you, but you said you'd both fucked instead. Yeosang can usually hold himself back; he only indulges when permitted, but there he was, forcing you into submission and making you cum like crazy.” He hesitated, watching you clean up, then he said, “I can see why Master Seonghwa might think you're not human.”

“What?”

“You…Most humans, normal ones, can't handle demon dick like you do. I know it's a weak excuse, but it's a start.”

“I've been a pleasure slave for a long time. My body is used to it.”

“Humans don't get used to it. You get trains run through you, and all you get is a bit of soreness the next morning. Come to think of it…” He let his fingers aimlessly move though the water. “Master Hongjoong’s whip doesn't leave lasting marks on you.”

“I heal quickly.”

“Your body isn't supposed to heal quickly here. Any injury you get is supposed to last much longer, getting infected or possibly worse instead of better. It's part of anybody’s punishment.”

“Then…” you found it hard to counter his point. “Then, I don't know.”

“And not to mention, if you were human, I wouldn't want to fuck your brains out every time I'm around you.” He saw you laugh at his lewd confession, and he grinned, “I mean it. There’s something that…” he let out a deep breath, eyes free to scan your naked chest, “Makes it hard to resist you.”

“It’s not me. It’s your preference for humans over other demons. I don’t get why you like us anyways,” you said. “Humans aren’t as beautiful or sexual as succubi or incubi. We’re not, you know, sex personified.”

“They might not be, but you are,” he replied. “The humans that have come through here aren’t able to handle living here. Children born from Prince Asmodeus have incredibly high sex drives,” he laughed softly, “They can fuck multiple times a day and feel nothing. You might get a bit weary, but that must be the human in you. I’ve heard you, YN,” he let his fingers linger over towards you, “You love dick…” you gasped when his fingers grazed up your collarbone to your neck. “You seek it out sometimes.”

“I do not,” you laughed, letting him bring you closer by the back of your neck. “It seeks me out.”

“But you take it,” he said, voice low between you. His eyes fell down to your lips, a longing filling his eyes, “Hard and long and as many times as you could get. You have one orgasm, and you want more.”

“Orgasms are great,” you said simply. “They’re like cookies. You eat one, and you want a second.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Giving him a smirk, you stood up from the water. Your body soaking wet, you let Mingi take a good look at you before stepping out of the tub. “Do you mind getting me a towel? I always forget to keep it near me.”

Mingi went to the shelves of towels and toiletries, and brought you a large fluffy towel. Rather than hand it to you, he wrapped you in it snugly. You let him dry you himself, enjoying his hands on your body. The arousal he stirred became nearly intoxicating. It wasn’t your fault you lived in a house full of horny incubi. If they didn’t want to sleep with you, they wouldn’t. If you didn’t want it, you’d push them away when they tried. Being with one of the servants or one of your masters was  a regular part of your routine. It became your favorite part of the day. You knew you should have a little bit of self-control, but that didn’t exist here. Not when Mingi slowly moved down your body, thorough with his drying. Biting the inside of your lip, you held back a whimper when he brushed lightly over your sex. 

Alright, you loved sex, so what? That didn’t make you a cambion. Loads of people had copious amounts of sex every day. You knew you’d done it plenty in your previous life and in your new afterlife. You simply had more stamina and energy. It didn’t mean anything. 

Mingi delicately moved the towel down your thighs to your legs and feet. He didn’t spend much time there, since he easily came back up. Your pussy clenched when his thumbs pressed against your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart. You reached down to your sex, and rubbed it in circles inches from his face. Mingi’s mouth hung open when two fingers pushed your lips apart to reveal your hard clit. 

“See?” he said, looking up at you, “A regular human wouldn’t be so eager to fuck again.”

“You started it,” you accused, wetting two fingers with your mouth and returning to your touching. 

“And you have to finish it, right?”

“Unless you’d rather I didn’t?” you stopped touching yourself, despite your body’s protest. “I can go about my day just as easily,” you picked up a bathrobe hanging by the door, “Without a single care.”

“Tease,” he hissed, eyes focused on your body. 

You laughed at his disappointment, and walked out of the bathroom. Hongjoong didn’t like you dressed, so you walked right to his personal dining room down the hall in his own quarters. He sat on a high backed chair at the head of the table. He looked up from his plate when you approached. Without a word, you untied your robe and hung it by the door. Hongjoong’s eyes scanned over your body walking over to him. Before you could reach your seat, Hongjoong pulled you onto his lap and wrapped an arm around you. 

“You're sitting here,” he declared, snapping his fingers for a maid. “I have great plans for us today.”

“Such as?”

The maid placed a rice bowl with an egg and sliced beef on top. Hongjoong mixed it with a pair of chopsticks, then held it to your mouth. You ate the mixture, enjoying something more filling than the light meals Seonghwa and San serve. Hongjoong watched you eat, eyeing your mouth and seeing you swallow. Everything. Anything. Despite what he told you, there appeared to be very few limits to your master's kinks. He fed you again, and you ate normally rather than put a seductive spin on it. 

“Firstly, I'd like to take you to work with me,” he began. He poured you coffee, adding your preferred cream and sugar, “I think it'd be good for you to see where I work. You'll get a better sense of what I do, and its importance.”

“Do I have to? I'd rather keep my food in my stomach today.”

He laughed, dabbing your mouth, “Yes, sweetheart. I feel I hardly spend any time with you because I'm always working. I don't want you to think I'm avoiding you.”

“I don't think so. I know you're busy.” 

“But I still want to be with you,” he said. He held your coffee cup as you drank, “And then I thought we would go into the city together. The nicer part, not the slum areas, of course.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is. I told Seonghwa you need to stretch your legs outside the house. You should see the world outside the little errands San has you do. There's so much more out there.” He fed you another mouthful of rice, and watched you eat. Unlike others, even when aroused, Hongjoong kept himself together. “Besides, I want to fuck you in other places too.” 

You kissed the tip of his nose, “Of course, you do.”

He laughed, “I've told you how irresistible you are. It's pure torture. You're the slave, but here I am completely enthralled by you.” He kissed along your jawline, “It's vastly unfair. I want my money back.”

“You didn't pay for me,” you laughed. 

“Then I want a replacement,” he joked, kissing down your neck. “How am I supposed to focus on my work when I have you in the back of my mind, hm?”

“Prioritize?”

The two of you laughed before kissing again. He gave an audible sniff that curved a smile on his face. “You're wet,” he said, hunger lacing into his voice. “I can smell it. Who?”

“Mingi.”

“What did you two do?”

“Nothing. I may have teased him a bit.”

“You're so mean,” he chuckled, kissing you again. “Maybe I should leave you naked in a room with him? Let him take out that frustration you're always leaving him with.”

“As long as you watch…”

He breathed deeply before bringing you in for a kiss. He'd just snaked his tongue into your mouth when the doors opened. 

Seonghwa marched into the dining room with purpose. Fear jumped into your throat at the sight of his eyes trained on you. He still wore his satin robe from the bedroom, his hair messily pushed back from his face and you're sure he hadn't bathed yet either. You gasped when you saw a knife and a small mouse in his hands. You heard its hysterical squeaking, wriggling in Seonghwa’s fist trying to escape. 

“Morning to you too, Brother,” Hongjoong drawled. “Please, join us…” 

“Give me your hand,” he said to you, roughly taking your wrist. 

“Master!”

“Hwa! What the hell are you-Hwa!”

You yelped in pain as the blade slipped down the pad of your thumb. Seonghwa squeezed it until thick droplets of blood started spilling. He brought the mouse up to your thumb, and you saw the pure white coat stained with red. The creature wriggling in his hand, Seonghwa placed it on the table. Your stomach turned seeing the suffering animal. Reaching forward for water, you moved to relieve and clean the animal before Seonghwa snatched the glass from you. Manic squeaks and squeals slowly faded, its tiny limbs eventually coming still as the mouse fell limp. A few final breaths became very still in seconds. 

“Oh no,” you frowned, allowed to draw closer. “Why would you do that?” you snapped at Seonghwa, forgetting yourself. “He was an innocent little mouse-”

“-He did exactly what I expected. He drank your blood, YN,” he cut you off. “He drank your blood and died.”

“What? That's…” 

But he was right. Looking down at the table, your blood still stained its mouth. You never heard of mice dying from drinking blood. Your mind tried pulling an explanation to counter Seonghwa's theory but nothing came. The mouse sat dead next to your breakfast, eyes still open and mouth gaped. You rubbed the dried blood between your thumb and forefinger in thought. Something inside you refused to believe it. Seonghwa and Hongjoong must be playing some sort of trick on you. 

“Um, okay, wow,” said Hongjoong uncomfortably. “That's interesting. Care to explain what this is all about, Seonghwa?”

“Andromeda.”

“What about her?”

“YN is her daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. Pet is a cambion, sure,” Hongjoong laughed in disbelief. 

“She is.” 

He withdrew a piece of paper from his robe pocket and placed it in front of you. By the frailty and faded ink, it came from one of his older books. Your mouth dropped when you saw the portrait of a young woman wearing the medieval garb of a lady. Her face so similar to yours, she kept her hair underneath a cloth held with a golden circlet. Mama. It reminded you of that one Halloween party from your childhood. You'd dressed as a fairytale princess, and you requested your mother be a queen. She'd worn something similar then too. Your head started shaking. Underneath it, Seonghwa had written over the name. 

“Andromeda, daughter of Princess Lilith, botanical sorceress, Lady of Eden, 1st generation.” 

Hongjoong said what you'd been thinking. “Andromeda? Our half-cousin Andromeda?” he scoffed. “No way.”

“Nobody knows what Andromeda got up to when she left. She didn't contact anyone down here,” he said. “She very easily could have married a human and had a child with them.”

“Then why didn't she register her?”

“She might not have wanted Lilith to know about her,” he replied. He turned to you, “Your mother was a demon. She was a half cousin through Lilith, our aunt. Her blood was poisonous; so poisonous it killed people in seconds. You can do that too.”

“No, I can't.”

“Then explain what just happened,” he challenged, nodding to the dead mouse. “Did the mouse eat some bad cheese? Maybe it passed out due to shock? Got sleepy? YN, so many things are strange about you. Other people around here might not have noticed, but I am starting to.”

“I'm human. I have to be,” you disagreed again. “I can't be anything else. If my mother was a demon, she wouldn't have let my dad beat her. She'd fight back. She could've killed him. My mom…” you looked down at the picture, “She was an angel. I was the bad one. Sh-She liked baking cookies and knitting. She read me bedtime stories, looked after me when I was sick, made me lunch, watched movies with me and took me everywhere with her. My mama wasn't a demon. Demons are cruel and mean. My mama was a sweetheart, the nicest woman you'd ever meet. If she were a demon, she wouldn't have…” 

Your throat closed up and you stopped speaking. You tried finding the lie in your memories. You might have missed it in a passing moment; she may have tried telling you and you ignored her. Mama never kept secrets from you. You held her photo in your hands. Her face bloomed in the forefront of your mind. Not the face of a demon, but of an angel. You pictured that face with a busted lip, or a black eye, sitting by your bed to check your temperature. You saw her in the backyard garden, gently touching the flowers as they bloomed. She’d admire them on her fingertips. You remembered one daisy blooming right in her palm. 

“She was,” said Seonghwa, breaking into your thoughts. “There are too many similarities to ignore.”

Hongjoong touched your braid, letting it wrap around one of his fingers. “I’ve never fucked a second-cousin before…” he said lustfully, “Sounds hot.”

“Hongjoong, please,” Seonghwa said sharply. “Kitten, there is one more thing I’d like to test.”

“Because using my blood to kill a little mouse isn’t good enough?”

“A real scientist doesn’t base their hypothesis on a single test,” he said. He stood up straight and said, “I want to take you to the greenhouse.” 

“What? No!” Hongjoong protested, “The greenhouse is for the other servants and slaves, not Pet.”

“Dennis is the only thing that can prove the other part of my theory.”

“No,” Hongjoong said more strongly. “Dennis will devour her.”

“No, he won’t. She has demon blood. She has Andromeda’s blood in her veins. If anything, he’ll love her.” 

“Seonghwa, no,” he shook his head. “It's my day with her and we already have plans.”

“Your plans will have to wait. This is important.”

“And who exactly are you to be ordering her around on my day?” 

“The eldest son of Prince Asmodeus, The Duke of Lust, a Lord of Depravity and Master of this house,” he retorted firmly, anger flaring in his eyes. “You can skip work and go with her if you want. You can be the heroic knight to her damsel in distress.” Seonghwa looked down at you, cupping your chin gently, “This is really important. If you’re an unregistered cambion, we need to fix it before anyone else finds out.”

“Why does that matter?”

“It matters because it means you’re not a slave.”

The words took you by surprise. “But, I’ve seen cambion slaves before?”

“They’re there by choice or circumstance,” he shrugged. “Cambions live freely here, and can live well depending on how high they are in the food chain. If someone found out you lived here, we'd all be in serious trouble.”

“Pfft, what kind of trouble? You guys are nobility. It's not like you'd get thrown into prison or anything.”

“We would,” said Hongjoong, serious as he gazed at Seonghwa. “Having an unregistered cambion in your house is almost like having kidnapped someone. Since we stole you rather than paid for you, they'll think we kidnapped you.”

“Obviously with a little look in my head, they'll see that's not true.”

“They won't care. San…” he sighed defeatedly, rubbing a temple. “He shouldn't have killed him.”

“Is murder illegal around here?”

“If it's demon on demon crime, yes,” he said. “Just because we're in Hell doesn't mean there aren't rules or laws in place. How else would our society keep going without it?”

“A lot of things would come out if the wrong person found out about you,” Seonghwa said. “I have to fix this. If I get down to the registration office now, I can head this off.”

“They'll ask about her.”

“Jackson is there,” he said. “He's head of the registration department. He'll help me out with a bit of money.” He quickly pecked your lips. “I'll see you tonight, Kitten.”

“This greenhouse sounds pretty unsafe,” you said anxiously. 

“Nonsense. You’ll have me, Hongjoong and Mingi with you.”

“No, you’re not going to inject yourself into my day with Pet,” Hongjoong said firmly, putting his arms around you. “You go sit in someone’s head and learn all the terrible things they’ve done. Pet and I will be going to the dungeons like I’ve planned.”

“Hongjoong-”

“-You can do your little experiment on your own day with her. I honestly do not care either way if she is a cambion or not. She’s still going to be my sweet pet,” he said, taking a drink of wine. “It only seems to matter to you, so do it on your own time.”

“As the eldest-”

“-Take your age and shove it up your ass, Hwa.”

“Don’t make me drill a hole in your head. We’d hate for you to lose any brain cells still left to you-”

“-Try it then, pretty boy-”

“-Hey, have you guys seen the mouse I had in this trap?” San came through the door holding a small metal box. Too distracted by trying to peek inside, he didn’t notice his brothers glaring at one another. “I was going to give it to the hellcat that keeps sniffing around the scullery door.” He looked up and saw you first. He gave a soft smile, “Well, don’t you look pretty like that? Maybe we should keep you naked all the time.” Then he saw the mouse next to your plate and frowned, ��Aw, man. Who killed it?”

“YN did, technically,” said Seonghwa, still staring at Hongjoong. “She has poisonous blood.”

San let out a soft laugh, “Ridiculous. If that were true, we’d all be dead by now.”

“We never drank enough. This mouse, however, drank plenty.”

San came over to poke the dead animal. “I guess that hellcat will have to eat scraps again.” He looked at Seonghwa again, then at Hongjoong, “Have you two been arguing again?”

“Seonghwa wants YN to go to the greenhouse and see if Dennis will eat her.”

“What?” San’s eyes opened wide, “Seonghwa, we can’t do that. She’s a human. Dennis will devour her.”

“He won’t,” Seonghwa said confidently. “If she’s anything like her mother, and if this mouse isn’t already an indication, Dennis won’t do anything to seriously harm her.”

“Okay, yes, the mouse thing is weird,” San agreed, “But taking her there? Damnit, Seonghwa, even I don’t want to go there and I’m the best with swords.”

“And I prefer to keep my head in tact, thank you very much,” added Hongjoong. “Pet is coming with me to the dungeons. You can go with her another time.”

“If anyone should go, it should be Seonghwa,” said San. “They won’t harm him. He made them.”

“No, they won’t,” said Seonghwa, “Which is why she is safe if she goes with me.”

“And you can do that on your own day with Pet. I am taking her with me, and that’s final,” Hongjoong concluded.

“He does have a point, Brother,” San leaned towards Seonghwa, who stewed in his resentment, “Whatever weird experiment you have planned can always wait. Hongjoong doesn’t get to be around Darling all that much. He does work a lot more than either of us.”

“Thank you, Sannie,” said Hongjoong.

“Besides, you'll need to register her as soon as possible. Any experiments will keep you from getting there before they close,” San added. 

Seonghwa looked at the three of you in defeat. He'd have to wait, and he hated that. “Alright, fine. I'll go to the office.” 

Seonghwa turned from Hongjoong to you. Normally, his eyes would be drinking in the sight of you, but not today. He examined your face. You almost heard the wheels in his mind turning as he considered his options. The dead mouse will stay with him the rest of the day. A mind like his does not simply let things go. You gazed back at him innocently. Yes, what happened concerned you; the possibility of facing a higher punishment for it definitely worried you. Your mother’s portrait on the table burned its eyes into you from afar; her name and birth year bold and black against the worn out page. You couldn’t find a proper explanation, no matter how hard you tried. It only raised more questions for you.

“You’re not going to take her to the dungeons like that, are you?” asked San with concern.

“Of course not,” Hongjoong scoffed. “Wooyoung is waiting in her dressing room. I want her to look extra special for today. Mingi!” 

When Mingi came out of the shadows, you wondered how much he'd heard. He thought you didn't know he liked creeping in the dark corners of the keep to watch over you. Your bodyguard claimed he did it as part of his job, but today is proving it's more than only work. 

“Yes, sir?”

“Take Pet to Wooyoung. She needs to get ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

The three brothers each gave you a soft kiss and farewell before you left the room. Out in the hallway, underneath the morning sunlight, you started thinking. You pictured every time you found your mother in her workroom in the flower shop or in her personal garden. Plants commonly grow in their seasons. Daffodils thrived in the spring; marigolds bloomed brighter in the summer; petunias grow best in the fall, and primrose was a winter flower. Yet, in your mother's garden, they grew regardless of the season. The herbs she used in cooking sat on the kitchen window, always bright and never wilting. You always thought she must've had an extraordinary green thumb. It never occurred to you that perhaps she might be able to control them. But, if she had poisoned blood, why did your father live so long?

“Morning, sunshine,” Wooyoung greeted you when you entered the dressing room. One of the assistants put you in your usual robe, “What’s the occasion today?”

“I’m going to the lower dungeons,” you said, not really acknowledging him as you sat at the vanity table.

“Oof, that’ll be an experience,” he laughed, moving over to a rack of winter clothes, “You’ll need to bundle up then. I’ll keep makeup minimal today.”

“He’s taking you there?” asked Mingi with surprise. “Is he insane? You shouldn’t go there.”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you told him in the mirror.

“After everything going on, he wants to prance you out into the world as a slave?” Mingi continued incredulously. “He can't beat any possible allegations if he is flaunting you in front of people.”

“Allegations?” Wooyoung’s head perked up at this. Sensing gossip, he turned from the closet, “What allegations?”

“The Masters think I'm a cambion,” you answered. 

Wooyoung gasped. “Shut up, no they don't!” 

“They do.”

“What makes them think that?”

You told him about the dead mouse as he worked your hair into a plait. Wooyoung’s jaw dropped when you explained the portrait and her name. 

“I don’t get it though,” you said when you finished. “If I had special traits or whatever, wouldn’t they have shown themselves by now?”

“I’m sure the only reason they’re revealing themselves now is because you’re around us so much,” said Mingi. “In the human world, you didn’t have any other demon relatives and your mother didn’t nurture that side of you. She might have thought you didn’t have them anyways, which would be incredibly stupid of her to believe.” 

“I never showed it, so why would she think that?” you defended her. “I didn’t have anything particularly interesting about me like that. It wasn’t until I started high school and began working.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“Getting what I wanted out of people was my superpower, not plants,” you stated. “I can see that my charm or manipulation of people could be a trait, but nothing else. I stopped going to my family’s flower shop when I started high school, and I lost interest in gardening with my mom. I don’t have any connection to plants like Seonghwa thinks. That’s dumb, and weird.”

“Not really,” said Wooyoung. 

And untrue. Your mother let you help her a lot of the time. Being surrounded by the various flora, it became a home away from home. The only time you avoided it was when your father ran the store. He always disturbed your peace by forcing you to work the front counter or stock other merchandise. Mama let you handle the plants. It felt therapeutic. You only stopped going because you wanted to be cool. Cool people didn’t work. 

That must have killed her. 

You were such an asshole. 

“Damnit,” Wooyoung’s sharp curse cut through your thoughts, “They didn’t leave the makeup kit. How could they forget that? It’s the most important part! How can I make you glow when you’re lifeless and dull?”

“Um, wow.”

“Hush, you know what I mean. I can’t make you sparkle without the right tools,” he sighed irritably to himself. “I’ll be back. You stay here.”

Alone with Mingi, you continued staring at yourself in the mirror. ’Botanical Sorceress’ the paper had read. The longer you thought about it, the harder ignoring it became. You pictured your mother sitting in a room full of plant life. She’d feed off them while they fed off her. But, you couldn’t wrap your head around your father. Did he know and that’s why he hated her? Your mother claimed he loved her, but you found that hard to believe. You couldn’t recall a single time your father showed her any softness. You recalled a time he chastised her for not bringing him take out at work; a thing he could’ve easily have done himself. When she walked away in tears, you decided then you’d never be her. If she had demonic abilities, why did she let that happen? 

“You really do look like her though,” Mingi cut through your thoughts. “I can see the family resemblance.”

“I think that’s why he hated me.”

“Who?”

“My dad.”

“You think he hated you because you looked like her?”

“Or maybe because he knew what I was, and never said anything. I can’t imagine him being okay with marrying a demon,” you said, playing with the end of your braid. “If she never told me, I doubt she told him.” 

“Maybe if she had, he would have run away and she would've raised you on her own. That's what happened with my parents. My father found out about me and ran tail to the living world."

“Seems demons aren’t so different from humans after all.”

“I’ll be one of the few to admit that,” he nodded. “A lot of our society down here mimics the human world. Your currency and class systems; your government, your culture, languages, clothes, and forms of entertainment. My mother used to tell me how much different Inferno used to be before humans. You’d think we were primitive.” 

“I’ve noticed it before, especially with the masters’ different styles. It’s so…”

“Exaggerated?”

“A bit.”

He walked over to you, hands on your shoulders. “Now that you’re a cambion,” he said, “You won’t be forced to wear and live how they want. You could have all this crap thrown out,” he gestured to the different closets around the room, “And have your own clothes made. You’d get to do what you wanted…” his eyes looked down to your exposed chest, “And who you wanted.”

You giggled at his sudden change in tone. “Oh, what, Mingi? You’d be my pleasure slave instead of my bodyguard?”

“I wouldn’t mind the demotion,” he smirked, hands sliding down your shoulders. Your body tensed when he kissed your neck. “It’d be worth it if I get to fuck you as often as possible.”

You turned in your seat to face him, seeing the lust filling his eyes. Tracing his sharp jawline with your fingers, you stopped at his chin to run your thumb under his lower lip. Bringing him in for a kiss, you kept it light with your lips hardly touching his own. He hummed when your tongue flicked over his lips, and darted his tongue out to meet yours. Standing up, you guided him backwards to a couch where you stood between his knees. Mingi’s hands ran up and down your hips and thighs as you slowly began swaying and whirling your hips. Seeing his mesmerized stare, you felt your sex tightening from arousal. He made it too easy to tease him. 

“Fuck…” he breathed when you sat right on his crotch. 

His bulge pressing to your pussy, you let out soft moans that made him throb. You felt his hand slide up your spine to your shoulder while the other went down to your ass. A light tap to your cheek brought forth a whine. Right as he grew comfortable with your grinding, you stood up to straddle facing him. You leaned forward to kiss him, the both of you moaning as you grinded into one another. Mingi’s large hands felt rough against your soft skin, much like Hongjoong’s. His full lips kissing down your neck to your breast raised the heat between you. A sudden flare of need burned between your thighs. The outline of his dick grew against his slacks, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into it. 

“Where do you want it, Mistress?” he moaned into your neck, smacking your ass the way you liked. 

“My pussy,” you answered breathily. “I want your dick stretching my tight pussy.”

Mingi had just laid you down when a cough interrupted you. Yunho stood in the doorway, doing his best to ignore your position as he spoke. 

“Wooyoung had to rush back to his shop,” he said, “So, you’ll have to get dressed on your own.”

“She can do that later,” huffed Mingi, who went back to grinding into you as he massaged your breasts. “She’s busy.”

“Master Hongjoong is almost finished getting dressed. He’ll be waiting for her in the car.”

“It won’t take long.” 

“Mingi,” Yunho said his name sternly. 

You saw the frustration pent up in Mingi’s clenched jaw. You kissed him briefly, putting your hand over his, “We can always do this later.”

“But, I want you now,” he groaned, kissing you deeply. “I want to fuck you, Mistress. Please, tell him to leave so I can pound you into the couch.”

“Mingi,” you giggled, “Go.”

“Can I have a taste at least?” he pouted, brown eyes big and pleading. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Mingi.”

“Fine,” he huffed, kneeling up and taking a deep breath. “Yunho’s right-”

“-Yes, I am-”

“-Master Hongjoong will throw a fit if you’re late,” he said, sliding off the couch. “I suggest bundling up for the lower dungeons. The ninth circle is the coldest point in Hell.”

“Okay.”

His eyes traveled down your body to your bare sex. You couldn’t help yourself from spreading your thighs to show him your wetness. Teasing Mingi became amusing. He gulped thickly at the sight of you gently rolling your fingers around your clit. The snap of fingers broke his concentration, and you saw that Yunho conjured a silver platter with two small crystal vials. He brought them over to you and Mingi. 

“Cold serum,” he answered your questionable faces, “None of us has time for sex. There’s more important things going on. Drink.”

Mingi begrudgingly opened one and let the drops touch his tongue. You copied him, shuddering at the chilly, clear liquid dropping into your mouth. It reminded you of cough medicine with its bitter, sharp taste. The heat in your cheeks immediately cooled down. You almost felt steam coming out of your ears, and the thumping of your heart slowing down. The juices covering your sex dried up almost instantly, turning into an uncomfortable crust that you couldn't ignore. Any arousal you had disappeared in seconds. 

“Good. Mingi, get some breakfast,” Yunho ordered, “And YN, you should finish getting dressed. You both have a long day ahead of you, so there's no time for delay.” 

Mingi, palming his softening bulge, gave you another longing glance before going out the doors. Alone once more, you moved to clean the mess between your legs. 

“Mistress…Come to me, please. I suffer through this hunger alone.”

You whipped around, expecting Wooyoung or Mingi to have returned. Except, you only saw the open doorway. Your throat closed up on the words you tried to say. 

“I must feed….I need your essence….”

The low hiss sound from somewhere outside the dressing room. Picking up your robe, you walked back into your bedroom. You stared around for the source of the voice, but didn't see anyone. 

“Mingi?” 

“Mistress….”

You followed the voice out into the hallway. Hongjoong waited for you downstairs, so you knew you shouldn't take long. But, your feet continued moving as curiosity got the better of you. The voice continued whispering, and you swore it sounded from inside your head. You hesitated at the top landing of the stairs. Staring down into the carpeted staircase, your ears strained to locate the sound. A part of you said you should go back. You should wait for Wooyoung, and then go to work with Hongjoong. He’ll be extremely upset if you make him late. He’ll use it as an excuse to “punish” you. But, that strange desire pulled you down the stairs. Instinct led you through the house  into the garden. Here, the voice became louder. Walking past flower beds and grassy hedges, the strange voice came out amongst the leaves and petals. You almost thought it might be coming from the plants themselves. 

Walking through the garden, your body relaxed to the sunshine. The cold serum you'd drunk melted away from your bones. Something pulled you further down the winding paths, and towards an archway leading off from the garden. Apprehension kept you by the entrance. Down the long footpath, you saw glimpses of a building in the distance. The greenhouse. The voice, like a call in the wind, stayed firmly in your head. You must go further. You took tentative steps across the cool earth underneath you. Your robe felt stifling in the humid air, but you didn’t dare take it off in the woodland area. The sounds of birds came from somewhere above you, with other animals likely hiding in the bushes and shrubs. Last thing you wanted were bug bites. 

A tall structure made of iron and glass stood at the end in a circular clearing. Stained glass windows lined the wide dome ceiling, with iron details weaving intricate patterns on the frosted glass walls. The plants lining the bottom seemed healthier than those of the natural woods. You found their bright citrus colors strange for the current season. Their stems grew against the outer walls, blossoms on the vines covering the front door. You wondered how you could get through when the withered branches slid aside. Taking a deep breath, you turned the knob. 

The place came alive the moment you entered. Every lungful breathed life back into you. Being amongst the lush greenery and the hard packed dirt brought you back to a simpler time. You gazed around to see the place covered from top to bottom in varieties of plants. Without saying anything, you walked over to a pink and purple hibiscus hanging out of its pot. Melancholy came over you seeing its withering petals and drooping stem. It looked so alone and sad. Holding it up by your fingertips, you imagined it bright and blossoming as it should. 

And then it did. The hibiscus’s lank, wrinkled petals gradually became colorful and healthy; its limp stems and leaves turned into a strong dark green. It might as well have always been this way. A certain kind of strength radiated from the delicate plants. You gasped and let go of it, but you couldn’t let go of the strangeness. 

“Mistress…”

You turned your head to find the voice, but didn’t see anyone there. Walking to a planter of yellow flowers, you noticed their strange petal formation. They resembled Canterbury bells, only these had their petals upright. When you took a closer look, they resembled lips. 

“You're cute,” you grinned, finding the strange flower more endearing than off putting. 

Leaning down, you tried getting a sniff before one of them tilted towards you. You’d moved back, seeing the bright yellow petals opening and closing like puckering lips. The others around it began doing the same, all of them vying for your attention. You heard their cooing and sniffing, and you closely examined one of them. They smelled like honeysuckle, or some relation to it. The most curious one brushed itself to your cheek, humming delightfully as you let it “kiss” you. 

“Must feed…”

“Is that you guys?” you stupidly asked the sentient flowers. 

They shook their heads. Flowers do not shake their heads. You gasped when something soft bumped into your leg. Looking down, you saw a few of the lip-flowers poking through your robe. You giggled, their soft petals akin to real human mouths. They bumped your robe enough to open it, their petals touching your warm thighs. It sent tingles up your spine, and you let out a soft giggle. This should shock or scare you, yet it didn’t. It felt playful. Flirty. Fun. 

“Naughty,” you said coyly. You bent down to cup one in your hand, seeing it giving you smooching motions, “Do you know where that voice is coming from?” you asked sweetly. 

The yellow mouth slipped from your hand and turned towards the other end of the walkway. “Thank you.” 

You actually gave it a small kiss, causing the flower to shudder with delight. Walking where the yellow-mouth indicated, you reached a wall of four leaf flowers with bright white, yellow and pink petals. Getting within a few feet of them, they ruffled and hummed. Your gut told you to keep your distance, but you couldn’t help it. Gently, you traced a finger over one of the arrow-shaped petals. The inner parts were magenta with yellow and white gradient towards the tips. The flower vibrated against your fingertips, and you giggled from the sudden shock. The sound of rustling leaves made you turn around. 

“Ah!” you screamed. 

Dragging its way over to you was a plant about half your height. Orange and purple petals fanned out like a lion’s mane, a long slit baring sharp teeth startled you. Thick leaves acted like arms, billowing slightly as it moved to you; it hissed through its teeth as it moved closer. Your heart thumped in your chest, and your feet went backwards to escape it. Your back hitting the wall, the other flowers vibrated. Immediately, they hummed against your skin like a body massager. Your fear shot through your throat and down into your stomach, twisting it in circles. A quick flash of what this plant might do came across you, and you nearly screamed. The sluggish plant came right up to you, its head pointed up as it reached out. 

“Mistress…”

“Huh?”

The plant moved away to let you step from the wall. Then, it started moving towards an archway of flowers. The foreboding darkness beyond should have been a clue to stay behind to anyone normal. But, you are not ‘normal’, are you? 

Walking away from the floral wall, you followed the walking plant. The sheltered archway ran down into the darkness, where the vegetation was thickest. As you walked through, engulfed in the muggy atmosphere, your nerves began settling down. It felt like home. Your hands went to the tie of your robe, and the smooth fabric slid off your shoulders. Your bare skin exposed to the elements, you felt rejuvenated. Your skin absorbed whatever floated in the air, basking in it. 

In a secluded part of the greenhouse, you saw several orange and white flowers growing from the walls. Their petals opened up upon your arrival, their stigmas resembling darts. You saw their heads turning as you walked by, like snipers following their target. 

“Mistress…”

It sat against the back wall. Thick vines kept it stuck to the walls and floors around it, with large petals as big as small beds underneath it. Its petals resembled those of a lotus, pointed but deep shades of orange instead of pink. It had no visible eye sockets, but you still felt it watching you. Vines sticking from behind the petals stayed upright, curved as if waiting to reach out and grab you. In the center of the petals, you saw a vertical slit with pointed teeth like your guide. A Venus Flytrap mixed with a lotus flower. Dennis. The creature everyone in The Black Keep feared beyond anything else. Seeing his massive size, you understood. Dennis could likely eat an entire horse in one swallow. 

“Hello, Dennis,” you said. Your greenhouse guide slumped away to a corner, where it became one with the vegetation against the wall. A child of Dennis, you guessed. 

"Mistress,” Dennis said in a low hiss, “Please, I must feed. These demons and their slaves do not fulfill me.”

“And what is it you need?”

You heard more soft hissing, and out of the corner of your eye you saw something creeping along the floor. “Your essence,” he said, vines starting to coil and extend. “Your sighs and sweat. It is the only thing that sustains me. My creator gives me scraps. I wish for full meals. Please, Mistress, let me drink from you. Let me absorb you. It has been too long.”

A soft vine wrapped itself around one ankle, and your entire body froze. 

****

“Whoever invented cold serum should be burned at the stake.”

Mingi leaned against the kitchen wall. With you safely sitting in the dressing room, he’d gone into the kitchen for a quick breakfast. Chewing into a breakfast wrap, he watched Yunho polishing silverware by a sideboard. The tall greed demon insisted that nobody polished Master Seonghwa’s utensils better than him. Mingi agreed. The gold forks, knives and spoons shined in the half-light. All around them, servants washed, cooked, and cleaned. He saw maids taking baskets of laundry into the scullery, and footmen walking out into the car garage with car-washing equipment. Cook, a portly demon with big horns and dark crimson skin, mumbled to himself as he prepared ingredients for lunch. The servants’ quarters and the kitchen were the busiest places in the entire keep.

“If you'd fucked her,” Yunho said, “Master Hongjoong would be late for work. He's already irritated because he has been waiting ten minutes.” 

“But…” he sighed, “She feels so good.”

He laughed, “I bet.” 

“I was so close, and you snatched it from me,” he grunted and threw a napkin at him. Yunho and him both shared a laugh, before the elder spoke. 

“So, she's a cambion, huh?”

“Master Seonghwa says that her blood poisoned the mouse. I don’t know of any humans who can do that, do you?”

“Is that what happened?” Yunho whipped his head over to him, “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” he nodded. “I heard the whole thing from outside the doors. Master Seonghwa wanted to take her to the greenhouse, but Master Hongjoong was against it.”

“For obvious reasons. That creature devours anything and anyone who crosses its path. I remember finding Linette stumbling through the garden dazed and delirious.”

“Did she tell you what happened?” he asked with interest.

“She said she’d gone in there to water the plants, and she got too close to the archway,” he said, going back to polishing a fork. “She told me he fucked her senselessly. She couldn’t sit down for days.”

“How delicious.”

Mingi couldn’t help picturing you the same way. His mind went back to your first night with Hongjoong. Tears streaked down your soft cheeks, each hit causing a sob or whimper that made him incredibly hard. He had you right in his arms. He’d been minutes from having his cock deep in your throat. Then, Yunho took it away. Mingi internally groaned thinking about it. Your soft gagging, choking and sobbing would have him cumming in minutes. You’re big enough of a slut to orgasm from that alone.

“He almost ate her afterwards,” said Yunho. “She managed to get away somehow; she says she doesn’t remember.”

“Gosh, could you imagine if she really is one? She wouldn’t be a slave anymore.”

“Maybe that’s why Master Seonghwa is so worried about it,” he guessed. “If she is a cambion, then they can all be in serious trouble. Harboring an unregistered cambion is illegal.”

“I think they’re more worried about her having freedom.” Jongho stood nearby with a tray of dirty dishes. He dumped them in the sink as he said, “If she has freedom, she’s not under their control anymore; they won’t have a pleasure slave.”

“They’d have to treat her like a person,” Yunho snorted. 

“Who’re we talking about?” Yeosang walked across the kitchen, munching an apple. Mingi noticed he wore a plain shirt and pajama bottoms. A day off for your main handler. 

“YN. She’s a cambion,” Jongho told him, turning on the water to start rinsing dishes. 

“Psh, ridiculous,” Yeosang jeered. “YN? No, they must be mistaken.”

“It’s true,” Yunho said, polishing the knives. “Master Seonghwa found evidence to prove it. He’s on his way to the registration office right now.”

“Who’s her demon parent?”

“Andromeda,” Mingi answered. “She was one of Lilith’s daughters.”

“Ah, so a cousin to our masters,” Yeosang bit into his apple, chewing it before he said, “They must be mistaken. YN is a human. She’s shown no signs of any sort of demonic ability.”

“Apparently, she killed a mouse,” said Yunho.

“How?”

“With her blood.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s true,” Mingi chimed in, “I saw the mouse myself. It had blood all over its mouth.” 

Yeosang took the information quietly. He munched on his apple, leaning against one of the counters. “Hm…So, she did break the doors last night…How interesting. How could she have gotten away with this for so long? Somebody before now must’ve realized it.”

“She must’ve not been around demons,” said Yunho. “And those slum brothels are not exactly training grounds. My guess is since she’s in close quarters with multiple demons, her abilities are beginning to flourish.”

“Perhaps,” Yeosang nodded. “If her mother kept it a secret…then no, she wouldn’t have known. Master Seonghwa must be delighted,” he chuckled through his apple. Biting off a piece, he then said, “Imagine the experiments he’ll put her through. It’ll be intriguing to see. I hope he lets me sit in on them.”

“He’s taking her to the greenhouse,” said Mingi. 

Yeosang’s eyes widened, “Is he now? Is that safe? Dennis can be quite ferocious if he’s hungry enough.”

“I’ll be with her,” Mingi said, “So, yes, it'll be safe.” 

“When was he last fed?” asked Jongho out of curiosity. “Who was there last?”

“Charlotte,” answered Yunho, “She went last week, I believe. She still has those little marks from the yellow-mouths.”

“I quite like those,” he said. “They’re cute.” 

“Yeah, if they’re just kissing your cheeks and you’re not trapped in their garden bed.” 

“I like it,” Jongho shrugged. “I fell in it one time by accident, and it was a unique experience. They got my pants open and started doing that kissing thing all over my dick,” he chuckled softly, washing a dish in the soapy water. “Psh, trust me, boys. If you like overstimulation, the yellow-mouths are the way to go.”

“Sorry, I’m not very eager to fuck plants,” Yeosang rolled his eyes and bit his apple. 

“Imagine YN fucking them,” Mingi sighed, finishing his wrap and tossing the paper aside. “She’d look so pretty in the dirt with them all over her.”

“Please, don’t start,” laughed Jongho. “I already have to watch the woman bathe and dress all the time. Don’t give me any more wet dreams.”

“All she gives me are wet dreams,” sighed Mingi. 

He thought about the possibilities. If you no longer wore a collar, that meant he could have you. You’d be a Mistress, and they’d all be at your mercy. He’d gladly give up his blades and armor to be your personal pleasure slave. 

“Very. I somewhat hope Master Seonghwa is right,” Yunho admitted, picking up a wine glass next. He started wiping the metal stem, “If they take away her slave status and she’s given a title, she wouldn’t have to bind herself to anyone.”

Mingi snorted, “And you could keep watching her through your little peepholes.”

“Don’t act as if you don’t listen at the doors,” Yunho smirked knowingly. “I’ve seen the boners you get standing there just listening.” 

“You should see the ones I get helping her bathe,” Jongho said, putting the last dish on the drying rack. Grabbing a dish towel, he wiped his hands and arms as he said, “I’m just saying: if she becomes a Mistress to the house, I’ll turn in my gloves and put on a collar for her.”

The rest of them laughed. Yunho moved to speak before the nearby door burst open. They all looked to see Wooyoung, eyes widened and terror in his face. 

“Mingi, Mingi!” Wooyoung hurried over to him, “YN’s missing.”

“What?” he stood up straight, his body going into work-mode. “How? When?”

“I left her in the dressing room to grab my makeup kit from my shop, right? When I came back, she was not there!”

That did not sound like you. Mingi admitted you certainly understood your place in the house. You knew leaving your room would hold everything up; it’d hold up Hongjoong, who was not the patient brother. Mingi turned to the window beside him. The kitchen and scullery had a small courtyard that led out into the gardens beyond. 

The outskirts of Inferno were lush and full of life, albeit a little hot at night. But, the picturesque landscape hid all kinds of ferocious beasts meant to stalk and attack lost souls. From what he always understood, people who land in Hell are met with a dense forest. They have to survive the everchanging elements, the predators in the trees and bushes, and try to avoid any sentient carnivorous flora. If they reach Inferno’s gates, they’re led into a whole new level of terror. Mingi knew he personally avoided going into the woods if he could help it. You’d begun embracing the seclusion and tranquility of the family gardens. If you’re anywhere, the garden is a good start.

“You all search the house and the grounds,” he said. “I’ll look in the gardens. She likes going there.”

“But why go there now?”

“Beats me,” he shrugged. “I’ll ask when I find her.”

He hurriedly walked out of the kitchen, faintly hearing Yunho call attention to the others. You knew better than to wander off on your own. Not only did his masters worry you might run away, but the woods were dangerous. Your safety is his sole responsibility. He is your bodyguard. If something happened to you under his watch, the masters would make him regret it. Walking through the straw-ladened courtyard, he saw servants already rushing to commence their search. He went past them to the garden doors, cutting through hedges and bushes. 

“YN!” he called out in the thick of the garden hedges. “YN, where are you?!”

No response. He wouldn’t forgive himself if you’d been attacked. He hated the idea of some vicious predator springing out of the bushes. Humans do not heal in Hell. Your injuries would fester and bleed out; being unable to really “die”, you’ll suffer until a demon takes mercy on you. Mingi pushed through bushes and hedges. He peeked over stone walls, checked inside the various enclosures and fountain areas. He didn’t see you anywhere. A terrible thought then occurred to him: the greenhouse. Maybe you stupidly decided to test Seonghwa’s theory on your own. A sickening feeling filled his insides, and injected more adrenaline into his veins. Mingi snapped his fingers, and teleported all the way across to the forest exit. There, he caught a whiff of cherry blossoms. 

Your sweet scent carried downwind from the dark path. Mingi unsheathed a knife from his belt and cautiously stepped inside. More sweet blossoms caught in his nose, and usually it made him dizzy. There’d been times where that floral fragrance lured him to you. Whenever he walked behind you, your hips swished it over to him. It’d make him long for closeness. He’d think about kneeling before you, kissing your thighs and hips as he groped you. Then, he’d slide his tongue over your sweet sex. Mingi shook his head when he reached the greenhouse door. The vines normally cutting people off remained to the side, allowing him to open the door with ease.

The plants always made him uneasy. Erotic creations of Seonghwa’s, each flower had its own purpose. The little yellow-mouths sucked and kissed to madness. The vibrating flowers, he knew, tickled someone until they pissed themselves or passed out from laughter. He saw a large orange and blue flower sitting amongst a bunch of smaller bulbous flowers. The plant wiggled a stamen from the center when he passed, asking for him to sit on it. He knew if he did, he’d never get out. 

Mingi hoped you hadn’t gone near the darker parts of the conservatory. There, Seonghwa created the deadlier plants: snake-like vines that trapped someone to a wall while they violated them; several purple flowers with vines that could entrap and suffocate their prey. He shuddered thinking of you becoming one of the cocooned victims of the Seonghwa’s spider-like plants. 

“Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes! Just like that! Fuck!”

He recognized your moans right away. It came from the darkened archway, and his stomach dropped. Dennis’s lair. Mingi held his knife tightly, then made his way into the darkness. He heard your heavy breathing, occasionally muffled or disrupted in between groans. Mingi gulped thickly imagining what he might find. A soft pressure under his boots made Mingi look down. Your robe, pure white with floral stitching, laid on the ground. His entire body shuddered. His palms started sweating, and he swallowed the thickness of his throat when he finally found you. 

Lifted off the ground by four vines, two of them kept your legs open as a fifth and sixth focused on your center. Your back contorted to the pleasure the vines created, writhing in their grasp as they “fed” off you. Mingi tucked away his knife, his jaw dropping when a thick vine snaked its way between your parted lips. The sensual sounds you made told him you’d sucked it plenty of times already. He took in the shape of your lips and the hollowness of your cheeks. By the lewd gagging, he knew Dennis sunk himself deep in your throat. That familiar warmth the serum froze off slowly returned. Mingi moved further into the room, staying on the fringes and keeping his eyes on you. When he got a look at the front, he salivated. 

One yellow-mouthed flower focused on your hard clit, no doubt kissing and sucking the erect nub. Two tendrils, about as thick as any demon, shoved in and out of your wet holes with ease. A creamy white substance oozed each time one of them withdrew, and Mingi audibly groaned. He loved picturing your pussy after the masters finished with you. He thought of them smearing their seeds all over your tight walls; he pictured himself filling you until his cum gushed back out. When one tentacle pulled out, it smeared your throbbing clit with more fluids for the yellow-mouth to feed off. He groaned again, eager to taste it himself. 

Unbuckling himself, Mingi stuck his hand in his pants. He watched two thin vines wrap around your breasts. They bounced in the plant’s grasp, your nipples hardening when the tips teased them. Mingi breathed deeply seeing another slide between your tits, up your throat and into your mouth again. The one that it replaced slipped behind you, and Mingi groaned, picturing what might be happening. Your stifled moans went in time with the two inside you; you stayed helpless and limp in their grasp, surrendering yourself to them. Taking hold of himself, Mingi started in slow strokes. He wanted to be deep in your mouth; your tongue tracing the thick veins. He’d give anything to have at least that pleasure. 

“Mingi?” 

His name came out in a surprised pant, and he looked to see you staring at him. Dennis, however, did not stop. He only slowed down enough for you to speak properly. 

“YN…I was looking for you…” he said, still idly pumping and focused on the drool on your chin. “I was…Wow…”

“You enjoy watching, don’t you?” you asked lustfully, whirling your hips around to get more inside you.

“I do,” he moaned, “But you know that. You’re such a fucking…”

“A what?” 

The vines holding pushed you upright, almost into a sitting position, and helped you bounce on the vines instead. You pushed your chest out for him, making sure they moved each time you did. Your moans became louder; you whimpered and pleaded with him. He loved seeing you like this. He loved seeing you completely bare, writhing from pleasure and needing more of it. Mingi thought of every time he listened to his masters bed you; he constantly wished it were him making you cum that way. San’s comment of keeping you naked all the time haunted him. He wouldn’t be able to do his job if you walked naked freely. He suffered from his visions enough. 

“A tease,” he growled, tugging down his pants to pull himself out. Mingi gritted his teeth when you stuck out your tongue for another vine to fill it. “God, you’re a fucking tease. You know how badly I want to fuck you, and you constantly dangle yourself in front of me.”

“I thought you liked that?” you played dumb, letting him see you drool over the quivering vine. 

“I do,” he said, “If I’m the one who gets to fuck you.” 

“And it’s sad when you can’t, huh?” you licked up the throbbing vine, keeping your eyes on him. 

“It is. That's all I think about when I see you.”

“What do you think about?” you grabbed it with both hands and stroked it while you sucked the tip. 

“Get the fuck over here and I'll show you.”

He stormed over and nearly yanked you out of the plant’s grasp. Falling into his arms, Mingi put you on the soft-packed earth, straddled your middle, and forced your face to his cock. A rush of relief came over him the moment your tongue touched his thick head. Your scent captivated him. He forgot all reason and sense as he sunk further. He didn’t start slow. His primal instincts took over, and he held you by the hair. Every dirty thought he had about you sprung to life before his eyes. Each time he thought of sneaking into your bed came to his head. You’d teased him far too long. When creepers pushed your breasts together, he stuck himself between them. 

“Keep your tongue out,” he ordered, pumping himself with your tits, “Keep it out.”

You did for a moment, but you only flicked him. Mingi trembled each time his head reached your tongue. The gentle brushes along with your supple tits had him aching for a release. It grew even higher when more yellow-mouth flowers sprung up through the vines. Mingi quickened his pace when their airy kisses touched along his pelvis and inner thighs. He groaned deeply once they reached his balls. Unlike a human mouth, they lightly tickled him in every stroke. When he heard your own moans grow louder, he figured Dennis’s tentacles went back inside you.  

“Fuck…YN,” he breathed your name, watching you work him so easily. The intense pleasure built up in his balls, which only became more sensitive. He started pinching your nipples, making you moan on his cock. “Such a pretty slut,” he growled, pushing his hips forward into your face, “I guess we know the truth now, huh? Maybe you’re not a weak little human after all.”

He chuckled through gritted teeth when he felt tiny creepers slide up his torso to his buttoned shirt. The thin ivy popped off his buttons to flick his nipples. For some reason, he thought you might be making them do that. Mingi didn’t complain. He straddled your chest more, shoving himself in your greedy mouth. Streams of controlled moans came out as you sucked him more firmly, letting him dip into your throat every other thrust. When he withdrew, tapping his cock on your pretty face, you stuck out your tongue to lick his wet length. The vines inside you had you whining pathetically beneath him. He saw your hips moving up and down as you chased down more pleasure. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight before now. 

“You’re going to pay for it,” he grunted, “Pay for every time you flaunted yourself in front of me…For every time you made me hard and walked away…You’re a fucking slut, and you’re going to be treated like one.” 

What you said when he pulled out fueled him:

“Then do it.”

Releasing you, Mingi and Dennis let you roll onto your front. The fact that you so eagerly spread yourself and lifted your hips amused and pleased him. He watched the fat vine refill your gaped ass while a thinner one teased your clit slightly. That left your pussy all for him. He didn’t care if his master whipped him for it. He didn’t care if they slit his throat. He’d fuck your cunt like it was his. Your body sinking into the dirt, he knew any sweat or fluids replenished the ever-hungry plant behind you. It was how he fed, after all. 

“How many times has he made you cum, huh?” he said in your ear, sliding off his pants completely before burying himself deep in you. “One? Two?”

“Two!” you gasped when he suddenly filled you. He saw your fingers curl up in the soil, and tiny sprouts grow around them. “Just two!”

“Only two?” he slapped your ass, watching it ripple each time he met it. He watched Dennis fuck your ass in time with his thrusts. When he concentrated, Mingi could almost feel them touching inside you. “Just two? No, no,” he smacked your ass again, “We need you to cum way more than that. That’s barely enough to keep him properly fed.” 

He already felt your walls gripping him, and he nearly lost his mind. Mingi held onto your waist as he bottomed into you. He knew he’d eventually have his chance with you, since nearly all of them have, but he never imagined this. In the greenhouse, he could do whatever he liked with you. Cambion or not, he can ravage you as long as he wishes here. Nothing ever aroused him as much as that thought alone. Except perhaps the vine forcing itself into your mouth. 

In a couple of more thrusts, he felt you tighten around his cock as another orgasm approached. Mingi kept the same pace throughout, listening to your gargled moans. He knelt there behind you to watch you unravel in front of him. He took in the constricting muscles spasming in every wave; he saw it bring out this animalistic need that had you pushing into him. Mingi loved it.

When he felt the beginnings of your orgasm start, his own followed. Pent up frustration came out in each stroke, hungry and numb to anything around him. Your pussy pulsed in time with him, exactly as he always imagined, as you both came together. It was everything he’d wanted and more. Mingi didn’t let up for even a second. He couldn’t stop. Even as waves of pleasure came over him, he simply did not feel satisfied. When he withdrew from you, his cum stayed just at the brim of your entrance. He bent to lick it, but something got there before him. 

A flower, dark orange like Dennis’s petals, spring from the earth to your oozing sex. You whined as it hummed against your pussy. The same type of flowers grew around him, pulling his cock further down to suck up whatever remained on his skin. Their pistils and stamens gathered up the translucent fluids leaking from him; their tickling teased another hard on. 

“Get on top, baby,” he said, voice slightly hoarse from his heaving breaths. “Come here. On top of me, now.” 

He pulled you onto him this time. Vines kept your hands behind your back, and wrapped around your torso. Dennis clearly had no problem helping you properly fuck him. Mingi did not complain. He slapped your bouncing tits, giving your nipples hard pinches every so often; he pushed up into you whenever Dennis held you in place. He knew the plant went back into your ass by your breathy moans. The sentient plant did anything in its power to make its victims cum endlessly. He swore something in the air kept his victims going until they simply could not. 

But something about you did the same thing.

****

You don't know how long it went, but the sky nearly darkened by the time it ended. The muggy atmosphere, the humid air and the nutrient soils blinded you to reason and reality. As your body constantly rolled and moved around in the dirt, you slowly became one with the beings around you. Mingi's presence only heightened the experience. The soft soil and residues left on you entered your pores. You felt yourself ascending into a higher form, a higher being. As Dennis absorbed you and Mingi one final time, you did not feel like YN YLN anymore. Your body became electric. A strange feeling ran through your bones, spreading all over until it became a part of you. After the final orgasm, your body flopped onto the dirt patch Dennis initially created for you. The smell of the trees above you became your constant aroma. The flowers that had participated or spectated became more dear to you than anything else. Is this how your mother felt in her garden? 

“That was intense,” Mingi laughed, laying in the dirt with you. He lifted his head to see Dennis quiet and still, “He seems satisfied.”

You could hardly speak. You gazed up at the colorful glass above you. The growth covered most of it, but you caught the gist of the scene. A group of young maidens appeared to be occupying different spots of a garden similar to the one outside. Peacefulness came out through the art and onto you. It sounded sappy, but you finally felt at home. Of all the places you've ever been, in your before and afterlife, this greenhouse was home. Here, you feared nothing and nobody. Here, you are accepted and loved. Truly loved. You wore no collars in the greenhouse.

“Are you okay?” Mingi asked, though you hardly heard him. “I'm sorry I was a bit rough towards the end. I couldn't help myself. I promise next time I'll be gentler.”

Your fingers slipped into the dirt underneath you. Parts of it turned warm after you were on top of it for so long, yet others remained cool. You subconsciously made spirals in the ground, soaking in the euphoria of this new stage. A butterfly in the painting caught your eye. A beautiful monarch with orange and black wings fluttered from one panel to another. A butterfly. That is how you felt. Your human form was the cocoon you shed as Dennis took you. He guided you out of that existence and into another level. Turning your head, you saw white and blue flowers grow around your fingertips. 

“It's beautiful here,” you said softly, watching one flower coil around your finger. It became a piece of you as you brought it out of the dirt. “Don't you think?”

“Yeah, it is. Look, we definitely need to head out now. Hongjoong is probably furious with us right now. We've been here way too long,” you heard the panic come as his senses cleared, “He'll kill us for this-”

“-You go,” you interrupted him. The blossom grew across your fingers. It embedded itself in your skin, turning brown as it became a hardened vine. You watched it wrap itself around your arm, and gradually stop around your shoulder. “I want to stay here.”

“YN, you might be something new or whatever, but Hongjoong likely went to work without you. If we clean you up, and get you there asap, then he might spare us both.”

“I don't care.”

“You don't care? Did Dennis rob you of your senses completely? The Masters do not handle disobedience lightly.”

“Let them try,” you said, more flowers blooming on your arm and shoulder. 

Yes, let them try to punish you now. Punishments up until now have been sexual, but you knew your “masters” could easily become violent. Let them. Your vines will strangle them and anyone else who tries. 

“YN,” he stood up from the ground, though with difficulty, “Please, come with me. If I show up without you-”

“-Tell them where I am and that I didn't come with you. That way, they'll at least know where I am.”

You truly didn't know what the masters might have in store for you. Cambions could be slaves, but that's usually by choice or necessity. You wouldn't want to be a slave anymore. You wanted to live as you'd done so in life: freely and carelessly. 

“Do not heed his warnings, Mistress,” Dennis said in your head. “I will be your new protector.”

A smile came across your face. “I don't like the name ‘Dennis’. It sounds so childish and lame. A creature of your magnificence should have a powerful name that strikes fear into people.”

“What shall I be called then?”

You thought about it deeply. Mingi spoke up again, “YN, I'm not joking.”

“Caesar,” you said, holding your hand up to admire your work. “No, that's a salad dressing.”

“YN!”

“Alastair? Octavius?”

“I quite like Octavius.”

“Then it's settled. You're now Octavius.”

“You can't give Master Seonghwa's plant a new name.”

“I just did.”

“YN, you have to come with me right now.”

“You must go, Mistress. The young masters will not take your absence well. They may see it as disobedience.”

“They would,” you scoffed. “Anytime I do anything that doesn't directly involve them or their dumb schedules, they get upset. They're like children. Why do I have to pretend to be a housewife? I don't cook or clean or do anything meaningful. I'm not so stupid that I can't learn things at my own pace and in my own way. Why do I have to be restricted to their empty lives?”

"Because they believed you to be a lesser being than themselves. You have now nor have ever been less than anything but a goddess."

"Hm, I like the sound of that."

“You better hope they never hear you say that,” warned Mingi. “I don't have time for your shit. Let's go.”

“Hey!”

Mingi lifted you off the ground with ease. You struggled out of his grasp, but being thrown over his shoulder made that harder. You looked at the vines covering the ceiling. The urge to have them trap Mingi came strongly, but nothing happened. The plants stayed stationary and silent. Mingi carried you out of the greenhouse, where the nightly air blew through your matted hair. Outside the greenhouse, you felt empty once more. Mingi might as well have ripped you out of your home. He carried you back to that suffocating house and your masters. The lace collar you wore became more apparent than ever. 

Inside the house, Mingi took you all the way to the sitting room. Your body tensed at the presence of others in the room. 

“Darling! There you are!” 

Mingi placed you before them. All three brothers must have been alerted about your disappearance and came home early. You couldn't help resenting them. For the first time in a while, you hated your slave status. While being treated more like a princess than a slave was preferable, being confined to the keep made you start hating them. After experiencing the freedom and comfort of the greenhouse, you didn't want to be in the house. You wanted freedom. 

The sight of you stunned all three into silence. Smeared and caked with mud and leaves, you never felt more at home in your own skin. They eyed the branch wrapped around your right arm, the blossoms softly hissing and rattling in this new environment. Clearly, whatever ideas they'd created of you proved to be true. Your appearance concerned them, and it was refreshing. 

“It seems I was correct after all,” Seonghwa said, staring at the blue and white blossoms on your arm. “YN inherited her mother's ability.”

“Wow,” San stood up first, coming over to you cautiously. You saw him considering the best way to approach you. “You look…different, Darling.”

“Is that bad?”

“Not at all,” he assured you. “Maybe a little cleaning up, but other than that, I…” his eyes turned from shocked to fondness, “Still think you're the most beautiful being in existence.”

You smiled at him. 

“How do you feel, Kitten?” Seonghwa asked, getting up from his couch. He closely examined your face and hair, seeing all the mud and tiny twigs stuck to it. “Any pain or bruising anywhere?”

“No,” you shook your head. 

“And what did Dennis do exactly when you saw him? How did you end up there?”

“He called me.”

“He called you?”

You told them about the greenhouse. All of them listened intently to your story, not distracted by the dirtier details of it this time. Seonghwa already anticipated your response, but San and Hongjoong sat in silence. He continued examining you while you talked, closely observing the flowers on your shoulder and feeling your skin. By the time you got to Mingi, he turned to the bodyguard. You expected him to snap, and demand to know where Mingi went. 

“It wasn't Mingi’s fau-”

“-What did you find when you got there?” he asked him, cool and collected. 

“Dennis-”

“-Octavius-”

“-The plant was feeding off her,” Mingi continued. 

“And how did you end up involved?”

“I….Um, well…I suppose in the heat of the moment and her teasing me, I let myself get swept up in the moment. I couldn't control myself. She's so,” he took a deep breath, “Intoxicating.”

“Intoxicating?” Seonghwa glanced over at him once, then said, “Did you kiss her at any point?”

“I don't think so.”

“Taste her blood?”

“No, sir. I'm not really into that.”

“Good, then you're less likely to die.” 

“We can't kiss her anymore?” said San. 

“I'm not sure,” he said. “I don't know how potent it is. Yeosang and I tasted her blood last night and had mild discomfort but nothing dangerous. Kissing her hasn't appeared to affect us physically…” 

He then pulled you to him for a kiss. Deep and slow, Seonghwa cupped your jaw as he worked your mouth open. His hot tongue slithered past your lips, running over teeth and tongue to savor you. A slow inhale went through his nostrils, as if taking in the scent of you. This brought on a hunger that came out in soft grunts. You giggled at his reaction, amused by how easy he made it. 

“Intoxicating for sure,” he said between kisses, forcing himself to pull away but unable to. “Your kisses can be deadly in their own way.” 

“Let me try.”

San pushed him aside and brought you into his arms. He pecked your lips a few times, tasting you tentatively before his eyes darkened. He moaned the moment your tongues touched. Hands wandering down your body, San did not seem to care about the state of you. He grabbed the back of your thighs and you jumped into his embrace. Legs locked behind him, he'd started moving you to the mantle behind you.

“Deadly for sure,” San chuckled between kisses, pressing you to the column. “We might have to hang a warning from your neck,” he joked, nuzzling your nose, “‘Caution: Kiss At Your Own Risk’.”

“In that case,” you replied, hands going through his hair, “You are all very big risk takers.”

“For you? Absolutely.” 

Right as you started kissing Hongjoong appeared. 

“You had your turn,” He remarked, taking you from San. “It's my day, after all.”

His kiss, heated with passion, became equally enthralled. Taking your hands, Hongjoong let the natural aphrodisiac overcome his senses.  

“Now I know why you're so irresistible,” he moaned, bringing you to his couch to straddle him. “Your kisses are better than drugs,” he chuckled drunkenly, kissing and grinding into you. “I know I’d do anything you wanted for more of these kisses.”

“Anything?’ you smirked. 

“Anything,” he replied. “No safeword needed either.”

“I wouldn’t be so cruel, Hongjoong,” you said, happy to use his real name. Pushing cherry locks from his face, you kissed him again. “But, it’d be a nice change of pace to have you crying from overstimulation.”

“I think I like cambion YN,” he sneered, leaning in to kiss you. 

“Not now, Hongjoong,” said Seonghwa, pulling you from his brother's lap. 

The eldest demon took deep breaths to fight off the toxins inside him. San and Hongjoong moved to you, but kept their distance. The three hovered around you like carrion crows, eager to feast on your flesh. The intense attention reminded you of happier days. You touched Seonghwa’s chest, fingers tracing the buttons of his clean shirt. The light specks of dirt stood out against the white material and you knew it’d irritate him. Yet, at that moment, he hardly noticed it. 

“What do we do now?” you asked him. “You registered me with those people, right?”

“I did,” Seonghwa answered, nodding. “Jackson told me he’ll slip in your name and erase you from the human records. It’ll be like you never went to the circles.” He eyed the collar around your neck. He hooked it with his forefinger, and you saw the sadness in his eyes, “You’re not a slave anymore.”

The words carried weight inside you. “I’m not?”

“No,” he said, letting go of your collar. “Since you’re Lilith’s granddaughter, you get the title of ‘Lady’.”

“Lady, huh?” you grinned, “Sounds cool.” 

“Yes. You’re a Lady of Eden now.”

“Eden? Like, Adam and Eve’s Eden?”

“Yes, that eden.”

“Do I have to go there?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Hongjoong said, “But it’d be good of you to present yourself to them. You know, make it known that you’re here.”

The idea of going to another unknown place in Hell made you uneasy. San noticed your discomfort and said, “Lilith is always happy to greet one of her blood. She won’t turn you away if, you know, you decided to live there with them.”

“Would that bother you?”

“A bit, but I would understand,” Seonghwa said, but you didn’t believe him. Dejected, Seonghwa kept looking at the lace collar on your neck. “I don’t want to lose you.” He touched one of the white flowers, not bothered when it hissed at his touch. “I like having you around. It feels nice having someone who shares my interests, and whom I can spend time with comfortably. Yes, the sex is always nice, but I speak for myself and my brothers when I say we enjoy having you here. You being a cambion doesn't bother me. It worries me because, yes, we can receive serious punishment for that, but you leaving me upsets me more.” 

“I like having someone who enjoys the same things as me,” Hongjoong said. “You aren’t afraid. You like experiencing new things with me. I don’t have many people to do things like that with me.”

“It feels nice having someone to come home to,” San added. He turned you around, and caressed your cheek. “If the schedules bothered you, you could have told me. They were Seonghwa’s idea in the first place. He said having you hanging about all day without stimulation might dull your brain. I wanted to keep you happy. You…You were at least a little bit happy?”

Looking at his angular, handsome face, you thought about it. “It’s nice living here,” you said. “It’s the closest I’ve gotten to my old life since I arrived in Hell. It has been kind of constricting and suffocating here and the schedules are complete bullshit, but I went through worse.” 

His shoulders slumped at this answer. “Then clearly, I haven’t been doing my job right.” He kissed you softly, “We can change anything you want. Anything at all.”

“It isn’t like we chained you up in a basement and mistreated you,” Hongjoong scoffed, clearly becoming irritated with the tedious conversation. “We don’t have to decide everything tonight,” he clicked his fingers and Yunho came in a puff of smoke, “A drink, Yunho.” Yunho started pouring drinks from the bar cart in the corner, and Hongjoong returned to his couch. Flopping down on it, he sighed deeply. Even with his carefree response, you saw the hurt in his eyes. “You’re free now. You can do what you want. Whether that be here with us or be somewhere else, then fine.” It was not fine. Not to Hongjoong.

“I never said I wanted to leave,” you assured him, not liking the pain he tried hiding. “I…This has all happened super fast, and I’m not sure what I want right now.”

“And that’s fine,” San assured you. “You don’t need to figure it all out right now. You can go up to your room or the greenhouse or wherever. Dennis-Sorry, Octavius-likely put you through the wringer, so you must be so exhausted and hungry.” 

“Aftercare is important no matter whether with your bodyguard or with a tentacle plant,” said Hongjoong. “You can clean up, and we’ll have dinner.”

“I’m fine like this,” you said, looking at the branch clinging to your arm. “It feels strangely natural to me. I think I’ll stay like this for a little bit longer.”

“Whatever you say, love,” he said, taking the drink Yunho passed to him. He took a drink, then said, “You’re still having dinner with me. I had to go an entire day without you again. I’m suffering immensely.”

“I’m sure you were devastated,” you cooed, pinching his cheek. “I can watch you torture people another time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You kissed his cheek, then stood up from the couch. You knew you should bathe, but that alone felt so exhausting. Out of the room, you slumped your shoulders and shuffled your feet. The exertion with Octavius, formerly Dennis, and Mingi finally started hitting you up the stairs. Mingi chuckled. 

“Not as tough as you pretend, huh?”

“I am half-human,” you emphasized. You turned around, “Carry me?”

Mingi laughed, and scooped you off the floor. You’d nearly drifted to sleep cradled in his arms. Your bodyguard tended to have a comforting effect on you. His constant hovering from the shadows gave you a peace of mind. When you felt the softness of your mattress, you lifted the branch to one of the canopy beams. Like water, the hard vine slid off your arm to the natural wood. Through sleepy eyes, you watched it attach itself to the pole. It rooted into cracks in the smooth wood, starting in the middle before it extended itself all over the frames of your bed. A tiny greenhouse, you thought. 

“Wow,” Mingi rested on the bed beside you, “That’s amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“Just imagine what else you could do.”

“I hope to find out.” A thought came to you as you came closer to sleep, “Do you think my mother’s in Eden?”

“Maybe. If she died, yes, she should be there.”

“Hm…good to know…”

You yawned, slowly falling asleep at last. She came to mind again. She loved planting peonies. She said they symbolized love, honor, and beauty. She always added them to bouquets meant for best wishes and joy. You recalled the small potted peonies she put in your bedroom. Despite what friends thought, you kept them growing and healthy. As you drifted, you saw the pink, multi-layered peonies starting to blossom in the nooks and crannies of your four-poster bed. You missed her so damn bad. 

You wanted to see her again. 

***

A/N: Ooooh things are changing in the Black Keep. Don't we love a little development? I hope you guys liked this chapter! Don't forget to reblog and like <3

[iouinotes]

All for you | Carl Gallagher

pairing: Carl Gallagher x female!reader

show: Shameless

warnings: angst, fluff, smut (the reader and Carl are 18 years old in this ff)

summary: Carl is challenged that he can get your money, if he makes you fall in love with him. He loves the challenge until he loves something else more...

authors note: sorry for so many pov switched, I didnt notice it, when I first wrote this ff. Also I haven't had the chance to watch all the seasons yet, but I still hope that Carl's character is somewhat accurate :))

Carl's pov

"Frank, goddamit youre no help! Why are you even lying around here - oh forget it, I don't want to hear it." Fiona's voice echoes in the room, while the entire Gallagher household is present.

The everyday discussion has been going on for too many minutes in which I could have done something better. The damn question “How do we get enough money?”

Lip at college, Ian with his gangster boyfriend, my shitty sister with her kid and then Liam. This family is screwed. No wonder with a father like Frank.

As the argument continues to escalate, I have the misfortune of sitting right next to him.

"You care to share some money, son?" Of course, my attempts to ignore him are unsuccessful.

"The drug trade doesn't always work out so well, but the weapon thing was something. You could give one to your good old dad, you know what the neighborhood is like." I run my hands through my hair in frustration, shaking my head.

"Just get one or two girls pregnant at school, then all of our problems are solved. But she has to be rich. After all, you want to get your hard work paid." Why the hell am I still here?

"You used to be more enthusiastic about my ideas. If you don't want to do play daddy, then use your charm. When I was your age, my cock was enough and the girls were happy."

"Be fucking quiet, no one wants to hear about your pathetic youth." It's no use, he keeps talking.

"I'm only saying, If you make a rich girl fall in love with you, then you can get money to do something nice for your family."

As I get up and walk away from him I take a breath, the tension caused by this idiot sucks.

Still, his words got me thinking. Maybe there's a new girl who would be perfect for this job...

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

When I moved here, I wasn't sure what to expect. New school, maybe mean classmates and bad cafeteria food. That I might be able to join a group and make friends, people who laugh with me in class or go to the cinema together on weekends.

I was prepared to get lost in the hallways a few times, perhaps to be peppered with embarrassing questions by the teachers. I had even prepared myself for being called a nerd again and therefore spending my lunch breaks alone.

Then things turned out differently. I met two girls who, although they scared me at first with their need to gossip all the time, are good people at heart.

They studied with me (meaning they told me the newest gossip and braided my hair while I did our homework), showed me the city and its pitfalls. I felt comfortable, prepared and confident for what awaited me here.

Oh lord, was I wrong.

On a Thursday in the middle of the week I met a boy who messed everything up. Literally.

I met him when he was running through the halls twenty minutes late, but stupidly didn't pay attention to me, who was about to cross his path. Let's put it this way, it ended with my books on the floor, my jacket hanging off my shoulder, and his hair being a huge mess.

When he looked at me, I expected to hear something like "sorry" or "I'll help you."

You want to know what he said?

"Cute top. Let me know if you need help taking it off."

Then he got up casually and walked into the classroom across the hallway, a grin on his face as if he had won the Bachelor title.

After this encounter two things became very clear to me. 1. Look both ways when crossing the halls and 2. Stop daydreaming about this boy, even if he has beautiful blue eyes.

The first thing worked better than the second.

After a few descriptions, which actually only consisted of "incredibly impudent and incredibly good-looking", it was explained to me who I was dealing with.

Carl Gallagher. A boy who has lived here since he was born, someone who is rumoured to be more dangerous than the Italian Mafia.

Even though I thought that was exaggerated, I quickly realized that I should stay away from him and that he meant trouble.

Aside from the fact that I wasn't going to be in the situation of talking to him again anyway, my eyes couldn't stop themselves from looking at him.

There was something that defined him, something that made me want to watch a grin creep across his face when he made an inappropriate joke, how he would push his blonde hair back and his eyes would shine mischievously, as if he had already planned the next bank robbery.

I wasn't the only one who found his charisma attractive tho, of course not when he looked like one of God's angels, but he never really seemed interested in other girls. At least not with any serious intent, you might hear him flirting or making comments about his free bed, but you would never saw him in a relationship.

He never held hands or kissed anyone, had a real smile on his face or said sweet things, he was just Carl.

Suggestive, hot-tempered and like a flag that proclaimed: Stay away from me, because you will lose this fight.

I also felt that if I continued to watch him, I would lose the battle for platonic feelings towards him too.

"Please don't tell me you're looking at our school bad boy again. You better be careful, he might want to sell you a gun." Kenzie's voice makes me sigh.

"These are just rumors. Besides, it's not my fault, he's just -" Her hand on my shoulder interrupts me.

"We know, you have heart eyes every time you talk about him. There are so many great guys in this world, I'm not saying at this school, but you choose this one?" Her look says more than a thousand words as she looks over at Carl, who is pushing his way trough the crowd.

"I'm not in love, just curious. Those are two different things, okay?" Her eyebrows raise.

"You mean, curious how his lips would feel on yours?" Her laughter at my expression is lost in the sounds of the cafeteria.

"Very funny." I murmur to her, food forgotten on my plate. When the school bell rings, I stand up and pick up my backpack.

"My class is canceled now, but I'm going to the library. Will you meet me later?" As I walk backwards I see her thumbs up and the hearts she makes in Carl's direction. My reaction is two quick middle fingers.

As I walk out of the school building, I check my phone and tie my hair into a braid. The library is a few blocks away and the cool air makes me shiver.

When I get there and wave to the boy at the entrance, I turn to my favorite department. Call it cliche, but I love romance books. I mean, I don't know what it feels like to love someone with all my heart, but that doesn't mean I don't love reading about it.

The books I actually need are a few rows away. History, literature, everything I am assigned to get for school.

As I stroke over a few tapes and finally pull out a book to read the first few pages, I hear a noise next to me that makes me look up. After all, the library is usually a pretty quiet place.

As I look into the familiar blue eyes, I feel my cheeks turn red.

I have to stop myself from staring.

"Always a book in your hand, I see." Oh his voice hasn't changed. I try to shrug casually as I answer, but I'm not sure if it actually works.

"Aren't you going to be late for class again?" At my sarcasm he smiles, he takes a step in my direction which weakens my control over my voice.

"I thought I would learn something somewhere else too." These coded words make me swallow.

"So, you're here often?" I almost think he's not answering me, but maybe I'm just not concentrating, because I'm paying too much attention to every mole on his face.

"Actually, I didn't even know this shitty town had a library." His words make me laugh, but several requests to be quiet around us, make me whisper in response.

"Then why are you here?" I think my breathing stops as his hand brushes my fingers that are still holding the book.

"You're here." I feel my heart beating nervously faster, I probably look pretty confused and when I notice his grin, something flutters in my chest.

"No interest in books, huh?" Can my answer actually be any lamer?

"Dont worry, I have a newfound interest in you."

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would become friends with Carl Gallagher, I would have found the idea absolutely crazy. To be honest, I still find the situation insane, but damn my cheeks still turn just as red when he's with me as they did the first time.

It turns out that he really has no interest in books, even though he visited me at the library almost every day since we met in the romance department.

I've never met anyone like him, funny and couragous without any reserve, always looking for trouble, acting self-confident. But also sweet.

He's like a current that pulls you along, like a wind that blows so hard that you fly with it. He feels like freedom and it is wonderful.

He makes me laugh, he carries my books, plays with my hair, walks home with me. In such a short time I feel like he didn't knock on the doors to my heart, instead he made a home there.

Maybe this is what it feels like to fall in love.

It's not a gentle announcement, more of a realization that makes you incredibly desperate and happy at the same time.

But with him I actually just feel happy.

"Ready, sunshine?" As soon as I come out of the classroom, he comes towards me and takes my bag from me. My heart jumps at his gesture, which feels like winning the Olympics.

"You're crazy, where do you even want to go?" He has something planned but won't tell me. When he puts his arm around my shoulder and I lean against him, I get a few sideways glances from our classmates.

Carl ignores everyone like always, it's crazy but the way he's so confident is pretty attractive to me.

"Does the guy in your cheesy books also tell you where they go on dates? I bet not, so just wait."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

"It feels like you're kidnapping me."

I feel his smile on my back and have to giggle quietly at his response.

"Mh, I plan to do that. But only for a few hours, otherwise my head will roll tomorrow. Your father takes your curfew pretty seriously."

I feel his hands on my hips, guiding me forward, hear the birds chirping around us, but can't figure out where we're going.

"Just a few more steps, baby. Then you'll see." As he promised, it is only a few meters away and when I see a small, calm lake, my mouth falls open in surprise.

"Carl, oh my God! It's wonderful here, thank you so much." I turn around in his grip and look at him, his smile reflects the love that I feel.

"Yeah? How much do you like it?" As his eyes focus on my lips, I feel a tingling feeling in my stomach. Slowly, my fingers stroke his chest and I see him swallow, even though he tries to hide it.

"I think it's incredibly beautiful here, I love it. And...I really like you." I shyly lower my gaze, my words are met with an unknown silence that makes me anxious after a few seconds. But when I look up at him again, he pushes a strand of my hair out of my face.

"To me, you are much more beautiful than this sight. I like you too and I thought that was pretty obvious." I smile broadly, butterflies fly around in my stomach and as the sun illuminates his face, I feel incredibly happy.

"You're so nice to me, I don't know how I deserve this." An expression crosses his face, but when I blink he smiles at me again.

"After all, you are the first person who explained the topics for the history exam to me, without giving up." My hand cups his cheek.

"I wouldn't give you up, you've become too important to me." As I stand on my tiptoes, our lips brush, his hand is on my back and pushes me closer to him.

"You are an angel." With his words we kiss and everything else around us blurs, only he remains. Everything is unimportant except him, standing in front of me, so handsome, that it is difficult not to look at him.

"Come on, let's go for a swim." As he pulls me towards the lake, you can hear our loud laughter in the air.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"When are you going to collect the money? You've been with her for the last three months and nothing has come of it." Frank's annoying voice frustrates me more than anything else.

"I am working on it. Besides, she's actually really caring." When I see the dismissive hand gesture in my direction, I roll my eyes.

"You are completely wrong, son. A person is there for a certain period of time, but money? Money accompanies you throughout your life, especially if you buy beautiful bottles of the best alcohol."

I sink into the sofa, but want to turn away when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"If you put it off any longer, it will be harder to get out of the situation. Girls your age will start planning to get married, if you stay with them for months."

But when he leaves, I feel conflicted. Can I really do this to her?

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"Happy birthday!" Her voice makes me jump and, confused, I turn around on the bench to look into her excited eyes.

"Why are you jumping around like that? Are you practicing for cheerleading?" I'm making fun of her, but the smile on her face doesn't fade.

"No, idiot. I'm just really curious to see how you react to your gift." My breath catches for a moment as I take in her words.

"You got me something?" When she leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek while pressing the bag into my lap, I start to smile too.

"Open!" Her encouragement breaks me out of my trance and I quickly tear up the paper, looking at the tickets with wide eyes.

"But...these tickets cost a fortune? Did you sell your liver or something?" When I look at her, she smiles back at me.

"I talked to my dad and he agreed that you deserve something special for your birthday. Are you happy?" As I look at the cards, I suddenly feel a pang in my heart. It must be showing on my face, because her happiness is also fading away.

"Do you not like it? I thought it was your favorite team? I can get you something else." When I look at her, I quickly pull her between my legs and kiss her.

"Shh, breathe angel. It's perfect, thank you. And well, your father. It's just a lot of money." Her hands play with the fabric of my shirt.

"You always say that. Do you have problems at home, with money, I mean? I've never been to your place, I don't even know where you live." What should I say to her now?

"It's okay." Her raised eyebrows look at me reproachfully, making me sigh.

"Each of us has to contribute a certain amount of money every month and if I don't sell fucking drugs, it will be tight." Her astonished look makes me pause and I gently stroke her arms.

Before I can say anything else, she kisses me. I look at her in surprise.

"What's that for?" She smiles shyly, looks at the floor for a moment before looking at me again.

"You're just so honest, I admire that. And that you've never asked me for anything, you know. That I lend you some money."

Fuck. Shit. What do I say?

"Yeah, I mean, I don't want to burden you with that-" but she interrupts me again, her concentrated expression makes me curious.

"What's going on in your pretty head?" My hands wander over her sides.

"It's the end of the month, how much are you missing?" I frown in confusion, but when she doesn't let it go, I tell her the amount.

"$240, the rest I earned by helping in the neighborhood." But despite the high sum, she just nods, looks at me again and gives me another kiss.

"Okay, maybe I'll be your sugar mommy." I have to laugh at the absurdity, but the longer she grins at me, the more I think she means it.

"What, are you serious? Thats fucking crazy, how am I supposed to pay you back?" Her eyes look around, but since the classroom is relatively empty during recess, she finds herself between my legs again. She slowly lets her hand wander down my stomach until she squeezes my cock through my clothes and I close my eyes in delight.

"Hmm, maybe you could help me relax between classes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously and I look at her with a grin.

"Anything you want, sugar."

Let's put it this way, the next few weeks the breaks were filled with kissing in the back corner of the classroom, dry humping on the toilet or Carl doing his best to pleasure me with his tongue in the caretaker's room, like now.

"Ahh-, Carl. I'll cum if you keep that up." His head has disappeared under my skirt, his fingers are stroking the bare skin of my thigh and the sinful movements of his tongue are making me see stars.

As he adds a finger and runs it over my folds, slowly until he inserts it, he looks at me again.

"You coming for me? Yeah, be a good girl or do you want to get caught by the old janitor grandpa spreading your legs for me?" As my eyes roll back, he pumps another finger into me, scissoring it thoroughly and hitting that sweet spot inside me.

When I moan loudly, he grins.

"You like that? Just wait until I bury my cock in you and you cant walk straight afterwards, so that everyone will notice." When his finger presses my clitoris, I see white and as I come I try to muffle the sounds with my hand over my mouth.

When I get off my high, I blindly search for my panties. But Carl beats me first.

"Hmm, no. I think I'll keep it as a little souvenir. Maybe you can get it back when you come to my house later." I don't know what surprises me more: that he wants me to run around exposed at school or that I'm invited to his house for the first time.

"Really? I'd like to come." But he interprets my words differently, his fingers stroke my entrance again and I moan and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Very well and for a very long time." When the bell rings, he lets go of me and I whimper slightly.

"Carl-" but he interrupts me by pulling back and straightening my skirt.

"I'm sure our agreement was between recess, now it's class time. Come on, I'll make it up to you later."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

As we ride the bus toward his home, I take his hand and intertwine our fingers.

"But don't expect a mansion or any of that shit." Ever since we left school, he has been bad-mouthing his hometown every free minute he has.

"Don't worry, I'll only have eyes for you anyway." The statement makes him laugh and he relaxes a little. As we get out and walk a little way along the street, we are watched by a few people.

"Why are so many people staring at us?" When he look at me, I'm obviously confused.

"Not everyone here wears designer clothes that cost several thousand dollars. If you come here more often, they'll call you a princess." Giggling, I slap him on the arm and as we climb the stairs to his house, I look around curiously.

"So this is where you grew up." His shoulders shrug casually, but I see him trying to gauge my reaction.

"Yeah, where in the world could it be nicer?" I laugh at his sarcastic comment and we both smile at each other as we enter the house.

I hear him calling into the house, then a girl with red hair appears, carrying a baby.

"You must be Debbie, the little one is so adorable." When I hold out my hand, she just looks at Carl with her eyebrows still raised.

"What did you do to end up with her? Also my daughter's name is Franny and yes, I know condoms exist." Surprised, I don't know exactly how to answer, so I leave it to Carl.

"My tongue is magic, Debs. Too bad you won't find out yourself anytime soon, Derek has moved away. By the way, Franny seems hungry." I'm unsure of the dynamic between the two of them, as she turns away and walks away, I resist the urge to say goodbye.

"That was...nice." His hand pulling me towards the stairs distracts me.

"She's a real ray of sunshine, come on. The others aren't back yet, so you can be as loud as you want this time."

When we get upstairs, he leads me into his room and I look at the magazines, posters and little things scattered everywhere.

"Cleaning and you are definitely not friends, huh?" I laugh at my joke, but Carl has other plans than letting me inspect his room.

He puts his hands on my hips and pushes me against the closed door, my breath catches as his eyes find mine.

"Do you want to keep playing housemaid? Then put on a damn maid costume, otherwise keep your eyes on me." At his stern voice, I press my thighs together and, grinning, I drag my fingers across his chest once again.

"Would you like that? Me on the floor, my ass in the air, and no underwear? Oh wait, what a coincidence that I'm not wearing any now either." His eyebrows raise, I see his eyes darken with lust.

"Let's save this little fantasy for another time, right now I just want to see you on my cock." Smiling, I lean towards him and start kissing him. I loosen the belt I bought him and pull him closer to me by his waistband.

"I think I did well today. After all, I didn't complain about getting through the school day without underwear. Do I get my reward now?" Grinning, he takes off my top and looks at my lace bra.

"Everything you want." He drops to his knees in front of me and kisses his way along my thighs, lifts my skirt and presses a kiss to my folds. Slowly he moves his tongue higher and kisses my stomach, I lean my head against the door.

"Does that feel good?" I just nod, burying my hand in his hair as he puts his mouth on me again.

"Ahh- Carl, I want you now." His fingers stretch me, the wetness running down my legs, making me tremble.

"You got me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?" His head lifts to look at me and I place my fingers around his chin, seeing the moisture on his lips.

"I've been prepared enough, I want your dick now. Let's see if it's as magical as your tongue." Grinning, he stands up and lifts me up, lays me on my back on his bed and lies down between my legs.

He places a few kisses on my legs, then stretches up on his elbows so he's hovering over me. Then he kisses my cheek and my lips, lets his tongue slide over them and lets me taste myself.

I run my fingers through his blonde hair and pull his body closer to me. When he pulls a condom out of his pocket, I hold my breath.

"You still want to do this?" His look calms all the worries I had. I nod, stroking my fingers over his heated cheek.

"I trust you." His next kiss is passionate, his hands gliding over my body, caressing every bit of exposed skin. I lift my back off the mattress and let him take off my bra. His head lowers to run his tongue over my navel. As he sucks on them, I moan softly.

One of his hands starts kneading my breasts and when I try to take off my skirt, he stops me.

"Leave it on, okay?" I kiss him in response.

His hand strokes my sides and my own hands rest on his shoulders as he presses the tip of his cock against my entrance.

"Ready, baby?" When I agree, he presses himself into me and for a moment I have to squint my eyes because it hurts.

Then I feel several gentle kisses on my cheek, my forehead and my lips. His attempts to distract me work and as I become more and more relaxed, he slides further into me.

Slowly he presses his hips against me, the stretch so great that I can feel him all the way into my stomach. He waits for a moment, whispering sweet things in my ears until they get dirty and I beg him to move.

My hands wrap around his shoulders as he thrusts into me for the first time, the air around us thickening as he grunts and a moan escapes me.

"You're doing so well, God, you feel so good." His hips move faster and faster, the pleasure spreads through my body and the wetter I feel, the easier he slides in and out of me.

"You are perfect, my perfect girl. Do you feel good?" His hands stroke my skin, gently pinching my nipples, playing with them and making me squirm beneath him.

As he grips my hips and pushes himself harder into me, my head starts to spin. My noises get louder.

"Carl- god, please go harder" And so he does, the room is filled with the sounds of our bodies and sweat forms on us.

"Baby, do you want to ride me? You have such pretty thighs." I nod and when he pulls out of me I can't think clearly, I just want him to fill me up again.

He leans back and as I stabilize myself on his shoulders, I sink back onto him. The feeling is even better that my eyes roll back. His hands grasp my hips, helping me move.

"That's right, baby. You're doing so good, riding my cock like the good girl you are." At his words, I tighten my grip on him and he curses as I move harder on top of him.

The faster I go, the more exhausting it becomes, but as I feel a knot forming in my stomach, I ride him so fast just to chase my pleasure.

Then suddenly as he hits my spot inside me over and over again, I go boneless on him and melt in his arms. My come drips all over him and as he continues to fuck me, reaching his own climax, I tremble in his grip.

"Just a few more thrusts, baby. Ah, keep holding on to me." Even though I have lost my strength, I move on him a few more times until he comes and I lay my head on his shoulder.

We're both breathing heavily, but everything feels so good, so warm and comfortable, that I don't want to move a single muscle anymore.

He carefully pulls out of me, I moan slightly at the loss. He gently lays me back on his pillow and gives me a kiss before throwing the condom away.

He pulls the blanket over us and puts his arm around me to pull me closer. I snuggle up to him and feel so safe that I quickly press my lips to his skin.

"That was wonderful." He also presses a kiss on my hair.

"That was incredible, you are the best. I can't wait to do it again." Our embrace becomes tighter. For a moment the room is silent.

When I whisper his name, he hums in response.

"I know it's cliche to say something like that after the first time. But I just feel it so much that it hurts to keep it to myself. I love you." As I lie on his chest I hear his heart stop for a moment and then it starts beating much faster.

"I- no one has ever said that to me before." When I raise my head and look at him, he doesn't look at me. Instead, his eyes are fouced on the ceiling.

"I just want you to know. I don't want to put any pressure on you to say it. I just thought you should hear it. You know, now that things are serious between us." Again he is silent and I start to worry, but then he looks at me.

"You are truly the most incredible person I have ever met. I consider myself very lucky." He smiles at me, then leans down and we kiss for a moment. It feels like heaven.

We lay there for a few minutes, just cuddling and telling each other how our day was. We laugh and as the sun slowly sets, I start to get dressed.

"I wish I could stay here with you. But you know what my parents are like." He leans back on his elbow, watching me get dressed and contact my parents to pick me up.

"Hmm, I think we would do it again. If you stayed here tonight, I mean." I smile at him, sit down on his bed for a moment and ruffle his hair.

"I wouldn't mind, darling." The nickname makes him blush and when he leans forward to kiss me, I playfully push him away.

"I have to go, are you coming down with me?" He nods, feigning annoyance, and as we walk out of his room, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me towards him.

He steals his kiss there, but more than that he steals my heart.

We smile at each other and for this moment everything is just perfect. We go downstairs and just as we are back in the living room we hear a door open loudly.

A visibly drunk man stumbles in. I see Carl tense up next to me, staring at the stranger angrily. I quietly lean towards him to whisper my question.

"Who is that?" When he rolls his eyes, I get a bad feeling.

"That's my father, great isn't it?" The man in front of me is dirty, has unkempt hair and an unpleasant smile on his face.

"Should I ask my parents if you can stay overnight?" My gaze is more focused on the man than on Carl.

But he just shakes his head, and just as he is about to answer, the man sees us too.

"Oh, my son! It's so good to see you, not really, but I'll take your bed. Fiona has mine. Is that your little girlfriend? She looks expensive, very good catch. How much money did you rip her off? I hope it's worth it to go through all this drama." I frown in confusion, but when Carl freezes next to me, I become uncertain.

"What does he mean by that?" This time my gaze is directed solely at Carl.

"Nothing, he's drunk-" but before he can finish, the man does.

"How rude of me, I am Frank. The proud father of this child, at least one of my descendants has made something of himself and used his talent. He has my good genes, the good looks and I teach him the tricks. Like exploiting an innocent, very very rich girl for money. It doesn't bother you, I hope? You seem to have enough, but I hope my son returns the favor to you."

The words catch me so off guard that I can't move. I don't believe anything this man says until I see the guilty look on Carl's face.

"W-what? That's a lie, right? Tell me he's lying, Carl." As he runs his hands through his hair and tries to answer me, Frank speaks again.

"Oh, you haven't confessed to her yet? My fault, I should have waited. I didn't think you would humiliate this girl for so long. I told you this wouldn't end well." But Carl ignores him completely when he notices me moving away from him.

"Wait, I'm sorry. It wasn't like that-" But I interrupt him, already feeling tears gathering in my eyes.

"So what happened? You act like you don't want any money from me and-" Carl's look becomes frustrated.

"You offered me your money! You said if I matched it, everything would be fine for you." I'm almost speechless, is this all a nightmare?

"Are you serious? I offered it to you because you weren't asking for it. And now I find out it was your plan from the beginning? You just talked to me, just spent time with me to get my money? Who does that?" Frank's voice intervenes.

"I invented the strategy, my dear. It's turning out to be quite useful." But I don't pay attention to him, I just look at Carl.

"Please, I'm sorry. Yes, it was meant that way in the beginning, but it's different now. I-" My tears flow when he admits it and any feeling of happiness disappears. All that remains is betrayal and sadness.

"You what? What am I saying, you were probably happy that I only wanted you in return. I'm such an idiot. You didn't just take my money, you took my first time too!" As he comes towards me, I step back.

"Listen to me, I didnt force you to do all this for me. You wanted it." The more he talks the more desperate I feel and the greater my anger becomes.

"You idiot! I thought you liked me! I thought you finally noticed me too." My sobs get louder and my vision blurs. When he tries to grab my face, I slap him.

"My cue to go. I can see that you're sorting it out between yourselves just fine." Frank's footsteps fading away are nothing compared to the sound of my heart breaking.

"I like you, I really like you. At first it wasn't my intention to start a relationship with you, but then I got to know you and-" Every word that escapes him is only worse.

"Stop talking! You know what the worst thing is that I liked you for so long before you even talked to me. And I thought it was a miracle when you first spoke to me in the libary. I should have listened to the others, you only care about yourself!" I wipe the tears from my cheeks, wishing I could be anywhere but here.

Then before he can say anything, I turn around and run out of the house. But I hear him following me.

"Wait! Don't just walk away, I have to get this straight. Hey!" He catches me, turns me around and holds my tear-stained face in his hands.

"I'm an idiot, I know that. I'm sorry for hurting you. I- God, I love you. You hear me? I love you too. Please stay." But I just shake my head and try to free myself from his grip.

"How do I know if that isn't a lie too? You've betrayed me, I can't talk to you now." When my car pulls up, I get in without turning around. I don't look back, even though his loud curse can be heard throughout the whole neighborhood.

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

I spend the next few days without saying much, but I cried almost the whole time.

I miss him incredibly, not a day has gone by in the last few months when I haven't seen him and now I've been alone for three days.

I wish he was here, but on the other hand I am so hurt and feel terrible. He is the reason for this.

I wish I had never found out. I wish he had never done it, never lied to me. Didn't use me for money, but worst of all, I don't know if he even likes me.

Today is the first day that I go back to school. Even though I put on make-up, choose a nice outfit and listen to my favorite songs to distract myself, I can only think of him.

His blonde hair, his beautiful eyes, the way his lips felt. How he felt inside me. Then I remember that he loves me and how he finally said it, something I have wanted to hear for so long.

But then I think about what he did and everything feels empty again.

As I enter the school, my friends come to meet me. They already know what happened, they all hug me and I feel a little better.

Until I see him.

And he sees me too. It takes all my effort to avert my gaze. To get my books out of my cupboard, but then I have to stop because he is not standing next to me offering to carry them.

I take it myself, close my door, but before I can go any further, he is standing in front of me. My heart stops. Oh, how his eyes shine.

"Do you need help?" His eyes focus on the books and I have to swallow several times before I can answer.

"No, I have to go to class now." But as I try to walk past him, he stops me.

"You don't answer my texts, you don't call me back. I'm not allowed into your house and you avoid me at school. What can I do? Please tell me what I need to do, so you forgive me." I laugh, but it is without humor.

"What can you do? Move."

I can see his shock, but he still doesn't step aside.

"Can't you hear me? I said-" but he walks toward me until I'm forced to lean my back against the lockers.

His eyes find mine.

"I can't sleep. And when I do, I dream of you. There's a - a hole in my heart that only you can fill. It hurts and I hate not being with you. It's even worse to be here, when you don't look at me the way you usually do. You don't smile at me, God, you don't look like you're in love with me anymore. It's hell."

Tears gather in my eyes, his words are so desperate, it hurts to see him like this.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you took advantage of me. Before you slept with me." A tear runs down my cheek and I know my mascara is smudging.

"I know, I know. And I feel so bad, I'll do anything to make it right. Just tell me."

When I look into his eyes, my heart also hurts.

"Move, Carl. I can't see you now." This time he lets go of me and I go to class with tears in my eyes.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

It's been four weeks since we last spoke, but it doesn't hurt any less to see him. Even if I don't let him talk to me, he doesn't give up.

He puts flowers in my locker, chocolate, and notes full of apologies and sweet promises.

Everything warms my heart, but it still feels like this money thing is unresolved between us. I know now that he likes me, very much in fact, as he makes it clear, but that doesn't change the real problem.

That he used me for my money.

As I leave school that day, I feel exhausted and, as I often do, I wish I had his arms around me.

Holding me tight, his lips kissing me, loving me.

As I wait for my father's car, I suddenly hear his familiar throat clearing. With my heart pounding, I turn around and see him smiling uncertainly at me.

"I know what I had to do and now I've done it. Here." He gives me an envelope and I take it uncertainly.

"Carl, your letters are flattering, but-" He quickly interrupts me.

"No, it's something else. Open it." The deja vu hits me unexpectedly and I slowly open the envelope, the content leaves me speechless.

"What is that supposed to be?" It's rhetorical, but I ask anyway.

"All the money I owe you. What you've kindly given me, I pay it back. Every cent. You can count." He looks so proud, I almost have to laugh.

"How- did you rob a bank?" He grins contentedly at my reaction.

"An old grandma." This time I laugh and he comes closer to me, slowly taking my hands.

"No, seriously. How did you do that?" He looks at me lovingly.

"Working in the kitchen every day after school, I found a part-time job with Fiona. The payment is bad, but it was worth it. I understand that money was the problem and well, that I wasn't honest to you." As I lower the envelope, we look at each other.

"Promise, no more secrets?"

He smiles and suddenly the world is a brighter place.

"Promise, but we continue one of our agreements." I raise my eyebrows questioningly, seeing him grin as he leans toward me, his breath brushing against my lips and he whispers:

"I'll still spend my breaks with you in the janitor's room."

The laughter that escapes me gets interrupted, when his lips meet mine.

[talesfrommedinastation]

My Redneck Neighbor Doug Writes Star Wars Smut/Fluff

Like a true, red-blooded American, I outsourced a task because I'm a lazy piece of shit overworked. I'm trying to write my own Mayday/Phee piece, but in the meantime....LSU absolutely curb stomping Florida last weekend had Doug practically skipping all over the block.

Doug was more than happy to write a piece for you PheeDay fans out there. He's eager to have y'all join his extremely rare of rarepair clubs.

Here y'all go, the Mayday/Phee piece, written ENTIRELY BY TEXT MESSAGE BY A CHUBBY OLD CAJUN ENGINEER NAMED DOUG.

-------------------------

"Shit? What’s smut? Does it involve butts? It can? Awesome. 

By the way, don’t tell my wife I’m writing this.

Church Lady’s on Coruscant. Sassy Park Ranger’s on break there too, because fuck that BLOND JACKASS and all the Jedi are MIA. They meet in a bar because Church Lady’s gotta watch the Saints game and Sassy Park Ranger found out they have 50 cent wings and he don’t get paid all that well watching the snow with his best friend, Daddy Warcrimes. 

(“The Saints? You know the NFL doesn’t exist in Star Wars land, Doug.” 

“IT’S MY STORY, I WRITE WHAT I WANNA WRITE!”)

She’s all “GOT A NAME, BROWN EYES” and he’s all “THE NAME’S SASSY PARK RANGER BUT YOU CAN CALL ME COMMANDER”. They split a basket of wings, because Church Lady’s got the confidence of a woman who knows where the shallow graves are located, and Sassy Park Ranger likes a woman who can suck a bone or two in front of him while keeping eye contact.

Yeah. If your woman can handle extra hot sauce on the first date you better get a ring ordered ASAP. 

Anywho, he’s so turned on by her eating these wings that he asks her to lick the sauce off his beard. She says treasure hunter’s don’t do that. He says the greatest treasure is found in the most unlikely of places.

So she begins to mouth-ram him and lick all the buffalo sauce off of that face fur. He runs his hands through her hair to see if there’s any weapons in there, because Sassy Park Ranger learned a thing or two in the field and Church Lady’s got dat WHO DAT energy.

You don’t mess with a Creole woman I tell you what and Sassy Park Ranger ain't no fool.  

(SAINTS NATION RISE)

Satisfied that they've freaked out all the aliens and shit at the bar, they end up at Church Lady’s hotel room. They get naked and do it and it’s so hot.

Um, yeah. It’s hot. Yeah. It’s so consensual, because I gotta include that. I don’t wanna get in trouble on the internet. And it's weird writing this out.

Don't tell my wife I'm writing this!

After they do it, Church Lady’s all ‘Let’s watch Space HBO’ and Sassy Park Ranger’s like ‘Yeah’, and they watch that show where white people yell at each other about money*.

They order room service and do it again, this time, in front of the poor droid bastard dropping off their food, because Sassy Park Ranger don’t give a crap and Church Lady likes an audience. Trust me. 

They exchange phone numbers, and text when they can and when they see each other they have wings and then wild-assed booty banging somewhere I don’t know where.

THE END!

("Where does that leave Ryan-from-Accounting? Don't you think Church Lady and him belong together?"

"Ryan-from-Accounting don't deserve that independent, smart woman."

"Oh?"

"He's got his bitch wife Laura and her KIA and his goofy brothers on the HMS Search Warrant. Let Church Lady have a hot bearded tanned park ranger who can lead and mouth off for the fun of it.")

---------------------------------------

There you have it folks. I could have asked for more, but I like knowing I can look Doug in the eye when I borrow his snow blower, and like in 'Game of Thrones', Winter is Coming.

I'll try to write my own, I promise!

Tagging some of Doug's greatest fans in here: @amalthiaph @megmca @skellymom @sued134 @merkitty49 @insertmeaningfulusername @thecoffeelorian @eyecandyeoz

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the future!

*= I think he meant 'Succession'?

[mackeydoodledoo]

Burning Sun: Chapter 3

Pairing: Rosalie Hale x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You've seen her in the school halls, the cafeteria, anywhere really. You, for the longest time, hoped... Wanted to be noticed by Rosalie Hale. However, you give up when you realize it was getting you nowhere... Throughout high school and just some time after the high school years, Rosalie’s true feelings come to fruition.

Chapter Warnings: Light-NSFW, Awkward Mutual Pining, Light-Angsty Ending

Chapter Theme: Line Without a Hook - Rick Montgomery 

Key: Italics = Thought, +*+ = Time Skip, Bold/Italic = Flashback, “Words” = Thought but out loud

A/n: None

-------------------------------------------------------------------

You were 16... You were with the marching band during a football game. You never really paid attention to the game itself. You were really there because you had to be.

It was 3rd quarter: that usually meant the winds and the guard were on break. You were taking off your jacket and shako (aka a hat) when you were just about to turn to leave the bands sectioned off area. That was when you saw her.

"Rosalie?" You call out to her

She says nothing to you and slips her way through the student section.

"Rosalie! Wait!" You call out to her again

You attempted to run to her however, the sea of students were no help. You lost sight of her.

“Y/n?” A familiar voice calls out to you

You turn around and there she was...

“God I wasn’t crazy!” You smile, running up to hug her, “I’m sorry I’m a little sweaty. The hell are you doing here?!”

“Wanted to see you specifically,” She states

“Come on, not to live out your teenage days of coming out to Friday night football games to watch high schoolers score... Or something?” You ask

“As far as I remember, I never really went to them at all,” She says

“Really?” You ask

You were about to remind her about the ones you’ve been seeing her at...

“But, with the exception of these recent years,” Rosalie says

“Wait...” You begin contemplating, “You have to be at least-”

“Anyways, I got you your usual, walking taco... Whatever this disgusting thing is,” She says, handing you a small Fritos bag with a stencil sticking out.”

“Oh god yes!” You smile, taking it from her

She also hands you a pop.

“God I am starving!” You immediately chow down on food

*Rosalie’s POV* You watch in disgust as you watch Y/n eat that... Slob as if it tastes good.

“What?” Y/n asks, noticing your look of disgust, “Do you know how much band will take out of you? I haven’t even been home since this morning!”

“You don’t go home?” You ask

She shakes her head.

“Right as the final bell rings, we gather our band things and head out to the field to practice, right after practice is the band tailgate. Lastly we’re here until about 9-10 pm,” She explains, “Usually we have a band parent host an after party. But, I don't know if I want to go tonight.”

“Tired after a game?” You ask

“Oddly... No,” She answers, “I’d feel the exhaustion during after party.”

“But, the question lays, are you going to go to the after party?” You ask

“I don’t think I will tonight,” You say, “I’ve been to too many already. Besides, I have one more year of these shenanigans before I graduate.”

+*+

*Y/n’s POV* After the Saul sliding on sweatpants, you lock your band locker for the weekend and make your usual cut through the band room to the crowded parking lot that was now full of traffic of the game attendees trying to leave. 

“Hey Rose,” You come up to her, “Didn’t you drive yourself here?”

“No, I asked Edward to drive me, I thought he'd stay over but I guess he didn't want to stick around...” She groans

“You... Know I have a license now right?” You ask

Rosalie stops overthinking and stares at you.

“No... Why didn’t you tell me?!” She asks

“Well... We only ever see each other at school,” You conclude, “We never really gave each other the idea of...”

*Rosalie’s POV* You take a few steps forward and reach around Y/n’s hips. You could feel her stiffen as you pull her phone from her back pocket. You smile down at her as you turn your back to her, opening her phone with ease.

“Wait... How do you know my lockscreen pattern?” She asks

“I’m an observant person,” You smile

*Y/n’s POV* She turns back to face you, handing your phone back. You look down at the still-open screen; her name and number finally in your phone.

“There,” She says, “Now it’ll be easier than handing each other notes in class.”

Awww but those were nice...

It was a little secret to yourself: you kept every single note Rosalie secretly passed to you whilst the both of you sat in the back of the class. Only you knew of it, as you wouldn't be able to handle all of the teasing from your friends. They already don’t stop teasing you enough about your crush on Rosalie.

“Come on. I’ll drive you home,” You offer

Rosalie nearly jumps with excitement as she follows behind you out to the parking lot.

“Y/n and Rosalie, will we see you at the party?” a band person asks

“I’m actually gonna take her home and then myself,” You say, “Feeling the exhaustion oddly early today...”

“Bummer, well, see you at the next one!” They run off to their carpool

Rosalie looks at you, “They want me going?” 

“Well, the invite is there,” You say, “But, that’s up to you if you want to take the invite or not. But, since we met, they’ve always thrown your invite to me. but, not that I was able to pass that info along with you. Plus, I think it’d be a good idea if you don’t go. They would not stop teasing me about our growing bond.

“Another time then,” She answers, continuing to follow you out to your hand-me-down car

“She isn’t recent, but she runs,” You say, gesturing to your car

“Not a bad start car though,” Rosalie says

You throw your band essentials into the backseat as Rosalie begins hopping into the passenger seat. 

“Aw, I was going to get the door for you,” You chuckle, hopping into the driver’s seat

“You do a lot for me already,” She smiles

You begin making your way to your place, completely forgetting that Rosalie was in your passenger seat.

“Weren’t you going to?...” 

You immediately look over.

“Shit,” You sigh, “I’m so used to just going home. Here, give your house directions here-”

“Actually, would it be fine if I crash here?” She asks, “My place is kind of a far drive...”

“Uhhh... Sure,” You say, a blush sweeping across your face

The both of you tread through the house.

“Y/n honey?” Your mom turns on the living room lights

“Hey mom,” You chuckle, “Would it be fine if Rosalie stayed over for the night?” 

“Yeah, no funny business though,” She says

You sigh into a nod as you have Rosalie follow you up the stairs and into your bedroom. 

“Not how I imagined a teenage girls’ bedroom,” Rosalie states

Compared to magazine posters being horribly taped to every single wall space, there was a small amount... Most weren’t boy bands but... They were all heavy rock posters... 

“What? Never seen an angsty teenagers’ bedroom before?” You ask, chuckling

“I more expected to see dreamy teenage boy bands taped to every single square space on the wall,” Rosalie explains

“Hah, those kinds of boy bands... Not my style,” You chuckle, “You’ll find me listening to them on a very rare occasion.”

You begin cleaning your room further, not entirely clean but still presentable.

“Where are you going to sleep?” Rosalie asks, seated on your bed as she watches you continuing to half-ass clean

“The floor,” You say, “You are a guest in my household so you get my bed.”

“Nonsense,” Rosalie states

Before you could put out a makeshift bed on the floor, Rosalie yanks you onto your bed. 

“Holy shit you're strong,” You gasp

Rosalie doesn’t answer as she begins tucking herself and you into bed.

“Ummm, can I have a second to change into pajamas?” You ask

“Promise you won’t sleep on the floor?” Rosalie asks

You look up from bringing your legs out from underneath the blankets and there it was again... The gentle glow of her golden eyes... Staring down at you. 

A hunter in the night...

“Uhhh... Yeah, I promise,” You say, sighing into a breathless hum

You hop out of bed as you rummage through your drawers for pajama bottoms. Not caring if Rosalie saw, you quickly strip to your user garments and slip on your pajama shorts and no shirt.

*Rosalie’s POV* “God she’s ripped”

You watch as Y/n turns to look at you; a smirk and a raised eyebrow showing.

“Oh shit was that out loud?” You ask

“I appreciate the compliment Rose,” She chuckles as she hands you a pair of pajama shorts

“Thanks,” You say, getting off of the bed

You felt her eyes on you when you attempted to hide yourself in the corner of her room.

“Also, I twist my body in a way for my upper half to remain facing forward whilst my lower half did the marching,” She explains, “Really engaged my core, you know?”

You nod at her explanation. You turn your back to her, hoping that was a visual cue to have her turn around for privacy reasons. 

“Hey.. Y/n.. Could you uhh...” You try to tell her to turn around

“Oh! Yeah yeah sorry,” She understood your request

You watch her turn her back to you. Part of you wanted her gaze on you while you stripped your clothing. But, you also didn’t want to feel vulnerable in front of someone... 

Not again...

*Y/n’s POV* You hear Rosalie clear her throat as you turn back around. As the both of you meet each other on both sides of the bed.

“No sleeping on the floor,” The corner of Rosalie’s lip curves into a smile 

“I promised you already Rose,” You smile

Rosalie follows after you as you both adjust yourselves onto both sides of the bed. However, Rosalie was mere inches away from you; cuddling distance. 

“What are you doing Rose?” You ask

“Nothing,” She answers, smiling

“Hmm.. Sure,” You smirk, “Goodnight...”

*Rosalie’s POV* You wished you could sleep again... Seeing how peacefully Y/n was sleeping... How blissful, at ease she looked... 

If she knew what I was... She’d run away...

Your hand reaches up to a stranded chunk of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. You draw your hand back when you hear her groan and begin to stir. You watch her roll over to her other side; her back facing you. 

Cuddle with her dumbass.

That was what you wanted all night long... You were hoping that you simply staring right at her gave her the hint that you wanted to be in her embrace and for her to be in yours. 

*Y/n’s POV* You stir as you wake up the following morning, expecting Rosalie to have been long gone or awake. However, she was right there... Allowing you to use her as a pillow throughout the night.

How long was she cuddling me?...

You for sure passed out simply just laying on the opposite side from her. 

Did she?...

Before you concluded that she herself had pulled you into your embrace, you double take at her facial features...

Her... Skin...

Sunlight cracked through the blinds in your windows. You knew she was pale. However, not to the point where it physically sparkles underneath sunlight. Despite that you knew how beautiful she already was, you couldn’t help but see how her skin sparkling emphasized her beauty. Your hand unconsciously reaches up to her face as it brushes her blonde hair strand out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

She’s... Beautiful...

Panic settles in as you hear her beginning to stir. 

+*+

When you walk into school the following Monday, you were hoping to find Rosalie however, you walk into your advanced level mechanics class, she wasn’t in her usual seat. 

“Yo, have you seen Rosalie?” You lean over to your classmate on the right

They shrug their shoulders. 

You sigh as you bring out your notebook. 

+*+

Few days roll by and still no sign of Rosalie Hale anywhere...

“Mr and Mrs. Cullen often pull their kids out of school for some kind of camping thing,” Jessica explains

You let out a hum as you finish up your lunch and head over to your locker within the performing arts wing. 

+*+

1 Week...

That was the last you saw Rosalie... You were hoping you didn’t scare her off by discovering that her skin literally glows underneath sunlight... However, when you walk into Advanced Mechanics; there she was... In her seat.

“Rose!” You gasp, breaking into a run, trying to weave through the students and  desks that were too close proximity to one another

You practically leap into her arms, nearly breaking the desk with your weight.

“Where have you been?!” You ask, “You disappear for a week and you now turn up like nothing happened?!”

Rosalie opens her mouth but the teacher clears his throat. You nod at his gesture and situate yourself in the seat next to her: ready to repeat your weekly classes.

“I’ll explain at lunch...” Rosalie leans over to you

+*+

Now is the time...

One day before Junior Formal... Either juniors had dates already, attending with their friends... You however, were about to do both... 

“Rosalie Hale, I would like you to accompany me to the Junior formal,” You walk right up to her

You catch her at her locker before the final class of the day...

“What?” Rosalie asks

“I... I would like for you to...” You try to muster the words together

“Y/n you have to be the one asking Rosalie to the Junior formal,” Your friend says

“I’m not good at asking anyone anything,” You sigh

“Dude, she asked you to homecoming last year, the very most you can do in return is asking her to the Junior Formal,” She explains, “I already saw a bunch of other juniors asking her, vying for her attention...”

“I’ve also seen her reject them,” They explain, “I saw her looking at you from across the cafeteria. She’s WAITING for you to ask her!”

“Accompany me to the Junior Formal,” You blurt out

Air heaves through your lungs as you finally break the question out, ripping it off like a band-aid. 

“I would love to go with you Y/n,” Rosalie smiles, taking your hands into hers

+*+

You made the decision to solely show up to the formal with Rosalie; to give yourself a nice change. You’d see them at the dance anyway. 

“Y/n!” Your best friend exclaims, running to give you a hug, “I see you ditched us for your girlfriend.”

“What do you MEAN?!” You ask, “You guys wanted me to ask Rosalie to the formal and I decided that I’d show up wth her and meet you all here.”

“you know I’m messing with you... Right Y/n?” They ask

“Sure,” You groan in annoyance

You take Rosalie by the hand and begin making your way to the dance floor.

“Come on all you lovely couples out there, let’s slow down the pace a bit,” The DJ announces

Really?... As soon as we walk in?...

You look over at Rosalie and hold your hand out for her to reach... Her eye contact doesn’t break as she takes your hand. With your back turned to the floor, you lead her to it. 

“May I have this dance?” You ask, pulling her into your embrace

“I’d be heartbroken if you never asked,” She smiles

She swings her arms over your shoulders as you sit yours against her hipline. The both of you sway to the slow music playing in the background. You look around to the other students with their dates, some guys, and even some females were giving you the same dead eye they gave you whenever they’d see you with Rosalie. 

“Hey,” Rosalie coos to you

Her fingertips touch your chin as they gently pull your eye direction to her. Her odd but mesmerizing golden eye color shone above the silver/winter-themed Junior Formal. 

“They're only jealous that you’re my closest friend and that you had the guts to ask me to Junior Formal,” Rosalie smiles, continuing to sway to the music, “I could have gone with anyone else in the school... But, I rejected them all. Because I wanted to go with you.”

Your eyes soften as you continue to look at Rosalie, only Rosalie. 

Right then and there it was like the world had stopped; the both of you were the only ones there. You forgot about the other students who asked Rosalie, and got rejected and their death stares. You smile at the amount of dopamine your mind was producing in the moment. Rosalie did the same.

“There’s that smile,” She smiles

You place your forehead against hers as the both of you bask in each others; presence. The song playing in the background.

+*+

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom before we head out okay?” You tell her

Rosalie nods as you enter the bathroom. Not too long after 3 other girls enter the bathroom as well.

“How the hell did a band geek like you catch Rosalie’s interest?” A feminine voice asks

You look up from the sink as you were washing your hands, to see a bunch of the popular girls [who clearly looked like they’d score a date with the football jocks].

“I don't know,” You say, genuinely, “I’m not fake like half the people in this school.”

“Someone ought to teach you a lesson for messing with us!” She gasps, exaggerating it

The two girls on each of her side begin closing in on you. 

“I’m not scared,” You say, exhausted, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get back to my date.”

You attempt to brush past them however the both of them grab a hold of your arm, beginning to drag you to a bathroom stall.

“H-Hey let go!” You yell

*Rosalie’s POV* You wait patiently outside of the ladies’ restroom for Y/n to exit so the both of you can leave the event to go home. Alas, your social battery was running low.

“Let go!” A voice yells

Y/n...

You pivot your foot and immediately burst into the bathroom: the two popular girls holding Y/n by her arms and the third one holding her head close to the toilet.

“A swirly,” You sigh in annoyance, “Such an old bullying tactic.”

“Rosalie!” The girl exclaims

The three girls immediately letting you go. She pops up from the floor and immediately runs into your embrace. 

“Touch my date, bully her ever again and I promise you won’t like it when I alter your expensive makeup palettes,” You basically threaten what makes them feel pretty and popular

They nod and briskly make their way out of the bathroom.

“They didn't do anything drastic to you have they?” Rosalie asks, checking for anything that wasn’t on you before

“No they haven’t Rosie,” You chuckle, having her look at you in the eye, “I’m okay, promise. Let’s get out of here.”

+*+

“Thank you for driving,” Rosalie smiles

You shift your car into park as Rosalie gives her thanks to you.

“Oh how the tables have turned,” You chuckle, remembering the exact words you told her at homecoming the school year before, “But, always. It was nice being the one behind the wheel for once.”

“I'll see you on Monday,” Rosalie tells you, beginning to turn her back to you

You reach out to Rosalie, catching her cheek. The door semi-closes as she turns right back to you, following the motion of your hand. You close the distance between the both of you fairly quickly. You pull away slightly to give her a chance to process the gesture and for her to respond. 

Her response: She jumps right back in.

She leans over the lower console of the main car controls as she attempts to seat herself into your lap. 

“I like you... Rosalie,” You confess, “For a long time...”

“I’ve liked you too Y/n,” She confesses, “Also a long time... I’ve waited for a long... Long time for someone like you to come into my life...”

“Long time?...” You ask, “You’re not that much older than me.”

You chuckle it off however, when Rosalie makes eye contact with you... Her expression was telling you that you shouldn’t have said what you said.

“I gotta go,” Rosalie briskly makes her way back over to the passenger door, exiting

“Oh-Okay,” You say

Chapter 4

[dynamoe]

A break in the narrative of TOMORROW'S JUST ANOTHER DAY for a flashback to Burbank. 1989. (6101 words) read on AO3 (better for your eyes) → or keep reading here below the break ↓

BURBANK 1989

He waited for the craft service manager to leave to empty the coffee urn. She’d be gone ten minutes max so he had to work fast. He pushed a cooler to the edge of the table, stood lightly on the lid and surveyed the end-of-day remnants. He grabbed the bowl of Hershey's Miniatures and up-ended them into his backpack. Same for the bowl of trail mix. The hummus wouldn’t keep and he didn’t have a container for that; he’d have to eat the carrot sticks he already swiped from the green room plain. Everything else was too picked over.

He jumped off the cooler and opened it— only a couple cans of TAB and RC Cola left. He closed it in disgust. Craft service was tapped, he could give the green room another once-over but he already had snatched up the last third of the party sub, the crudité platter and a bowl of M&Ms.

He turned back in a rush, smashing directly into someone walking the other way. He bounced backward, dropping his backpack and all his raided provisions spilling onto the floor

“Whoa whoa whoa,” a familiar voice admonished, “Watch where you’re goin’, kid.”

“Mr. White! Sorry, I—” Billy collected his wits and then dove onto the pile of peanuts and M&Ms leaking out of his backpack.

The taping ended an hour ago, why are you still here?”

“I missed my bus back to the hotel so I’m just killing time, I guess,” Billy lied, stuffing as much food back in his bag before Mr. White noticed as he could. White didn’t seem very observant, focused fully on the craft service table.

“I gotta stay to record promo bumpers for all the affiliates on Fridays,” Mr. White muttered sourly and then sniffed loudly.

Billy looked confusedly at Mr. White, out of wardrobe and wearing pale-gray jeans and a polo shirt. 

“Audio only,” White explained, looking back at the table, “Someone took all the Krackel bars! Nuts!”

Billy spotted a miniature Krackel he had dropped next to Mr. White’s foot. He retrieved it and held it up in White’s field of vision.

“Thanks, kid,” White snapped it up and stuffed it in his mouth, “Oh, you’re the champ this week.”

White never learned the Quizboys’ names. They turned over too quickly. Two tapings a day five days a week with only one champion carrying over from show to show, that’s 21 Teacher’s Pets he had to feign interest in meeting on-camera and then never making eye-contact with after.

“Yeah, Billy Whalen,” Billy introduced himself again. Not just “this week” but the last three weeks but he wasn’t going to correct the host.

 That was the problem. He had come out to Hollywood to tape his episodes with only two changes of clothing and no long-term plan of how to take care of himself. The production paid for his flight and his hotel room but other than that he was left to his own devices. He got paid $10 a day as an appearance fee, but his winnings were locked up until he ended his streak. He couldn’t drive and Los Angeles wasn’t terribly accommodating on the public transportation front.

There was a long weekend starting tomorrow that meant no taping on Monday, meaning one fewer day of meals and one fewer 10-spot provided. He always collected the leftovers at the end of a shoot day to tide him over into the weekend but he felt unusually desperate and was pushing his luck.

“Hardly behavior befitting a Quizboys champion to be stealing craft service, huh?” Mr. White teased him.

Billy froze and felt like he was going to cry, “I don’t want to, but we’re not shooting for the long weekend so I needed to take something to eat tomorrow.”

“I was just kidding around, loosen up, kid,” White said, smacking Billy on the back.

“We get catered meals on set, but if we’re not shooting I just stay in my hotel room and watch TV. I figure food left at the end of the day is stuff no one else wants so I can take it. It’s not really stealing, if it’s gonna get thrown away, right?”

White was sort of half-listening until the content of what Billy was saying sunk in, “Wait, No food. Alone all day in a room for… how long have you been on the show?”

“Three weeks,” Billy reminded him. That means he had been on-camera ‘introduced’ to Mr. White thirty times.

“Where are your parents, kid?”

“I came by myself,” Billy said with a tone of finality indicating he didn’t want to get into it.

“All that time by yourself. That’s awful,” Mr. White was horrified.

“That’s showbiz,” Billy threw jazz hands.

“Fuck it. No,” Mr. White took a stand, “Leave this. Come with me. I’m getting you a decent hot meal.”

Billy hesitated, “This seems like a conflict of interest. A Quizboy fraternizing with the host might smack of favoritism.”

“Why? I don’t decide who wins. I didn't write the questions. I’m just the dancing monkey who reads the cue cards. Who cares?” White shrugged it off.

“What about taping the bumpers for the affiliates?”

White sniffed, “Eh, fuck ‘em. They can use ones from last week.”

Billy walked meekly behind Mr. White as he charged out of the studio, still doubting if this was ethical but also really, really hungry.

White walked him to a kitted-out Suzuki Samurai parked around the block from the studio, “I don’t even get my own parking space on the lot, if you can believe it. Fuckin’ cheap ass production.” He sniffed audibly.

Billy was awestruck, “Is this your car?”

“One of them,” White grinned as jumped into the driver’s side, “Hop in.” Billy eyed the three foot rise from ground to car warily. 

He scooted over to the passenger side and extended his hand, “Sorry, I’m a bonehead. I’ll give you a hand."

Billy grabbed it with his foot on the edge of the running board, White heaved and pulled him into the truck.

White started the engine and peeled out of the parking space, jostling Billy out of his seat. He grabbed at the seat belt over his shoulder, trying not to be strangled by the awkward angle. Other cars honked, which White cheerily ignored, fiddling with the car radio to find a good station. 

Billy studied his host away from the studio lights and he seemed weird. Uncanny even. He wore sunglasses while driving even though it was already early evening but, Billy rationalized, he was a celebrity and that was par for the course. Billy couldn’t quite figure out why he looked so… wrong.

“Mr. White, do you always keep your TV makeup on after the taping?” Billy asked as he and the other contestants were scrubbed clean by the make-up department as soon as the cameras turned off, the more histrionic losers having already cried off half of it before the credits finished rolling.

“I wanna get out of the studio faster so I take it off at home when I shower,” White shrugged, pulling into traffic recklessly with a wide turn. 

Billy nodded. It made sense. It was really sticky, greasy thick stuff and it smelled oily. He couldn’t wait to get it off at the end of the shoot himself, but he didn’t have anywhere to be. If Mr. White was just waiting around to record audio bumpers today, he had time to take the make-up off, didn’t he?

 “Learn to drive, fuckhead!” White yelled out of the window at a car that honked at him, even though he was running a red light.

 The car was brand-new and lit-up impressively. The top of the line stereo pumped She Drives Me Crazy. White even sang along tunelessly. He sure seemed a lot younger than he did on set, but maybe it was the change of wardrobe or that his words weren’t written for him or that he no longer had the authority to give and take points from him.

"Your car's kinda dusty," Billy observed.

White glanced over at the powder on the dash and quickly wiped it away with a finger, "It's wind from the desert. It blows all kinds of dust and grit in the air. I must have left the window open. Forget it."

“It’s awfully nice of you to worry about me,” Billy said, “You probably have a lot of cool friends you could be hanging out with and, like, Hollywood parties to go to on the weekend.”

“Not really. Nah,” White dismissed, “Unless there’s promos to shoot or public appearances for the show at a mall or something I usually just stay home and watch TV, same as you.”

Billy assumed he was humoring him so he wouldn’t feel bad.

“But I can drive and have money and do adult stuff so it’s not exactly the same,” White qualified his answer, “I really wanted a hot dog right now so this worked out great for all parties.”

They approached a boxy building with bright pink awnings just off the intersection of LaBrea and Melrose.

“We’re not going to Spago?” Billy moaned sarcastically.

“No Wolfgang Puck on a first date,” White quipped back, pulling into the small parking lot behind the hot dog stand, “This place has been here forever. It’s a landmark! Orson Welles ate eighteen hot dogs in one sitting here! That's probably what's in those lost scenes of The Magnificent Ambersons, I bet. Just Orson scarfin' down wieners.”

“I thought it’d be in a building shaped like a big hot dog,” Billy said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“You’re thinking of Tail o’ the Pup,” White said, “You know Bruce Willis proposed to Demi Moore right here... Aaaand Aaron Spelling orders a hot dog from Pink’s every day that he’s working in his office up there.” White pointed towards the CBS studios up the block.

“Pink’s Hot Dogs appears in the opening credits of The Golden Child,” Billy said idly, dropping non-academic trivia after hours.

“Whaddya doin’ watching R-rated movies? That’s not a kid’s movie.” White taunted him, “Someone oughta put a parental lock on the cable box in your hotel room.”

“It’s only PG-13,” Billy defended himself, “Fifteen uses of ‘ass,’ two ‘asshole’s, eleven ‘shit’s, three ‘bastard’s, two ‘hell’s, and one ‘goddamn,’ but no f-words at all!”

“What, did you have a bingo card you were filling out?” White mocked him with a snort.

It was late but there were still a dozen people waiting in line at the stand. White mentioned that the line is twice as long during the day and it wouldn’t be more than a few minutes before they got to order as he sniffed and wiped his nose.

"Do you have allergies, Mr. White?"

"Something like that," White shrugged, "Get anything you want, kid. It's on me."

Billy studied the menu card in front of him, with the dozens of hot dog combinations with celebrity names, “I guess I just want a plain hot dog.”

“C’mon. Live a little, Billy!”

Billy sighed and announced, “I want a John Tesh dog with onion rings. And an Orange Crush!”

White nodded and ordered, “Gimme a Marlon Brando. A John Tesh. A side of Tom Berenger and an Orange Crush.”

White paid and waited, Billy walked around to the patio to claim a table. They settled in to a hot dog feast al fresco in the cool of evening.

A woman in a bikini roller skating down LaBrea with a boa constrictor around her neck passed 

“Welcome to Los Angeles,” she said, skating a ring around their table, waving her snake as she moved on.

“She seems friendly,” Billy observed, a little confused.

“So,” White asked through a mouth full of chewed bun, “Why’s your head so big?”

“That’s pretty tactless, Mr. White,” Billy mumbled.

“What can I say,” White threw up his hands, “I’m a no-bullshit kinda guy!”

“I was born with hydrocephalus. It’s colloquially known as ‘water on the brain.’” Billy shook his head demonstratively, making a faint gurgling sound, “It’s better than it was. I had brain surgery after graduation so I don’t leak anymore.” 

“Huh,” White said flatly, “That’s cool.”

“I know I look kinda weird.” Billy muttered apologetically, breaking eye contact.

“What, are you nuts? You look fantastic!” White reassured him, “Despite the haircut.” 

Billy suddenly felt embarrassed. What was wrong with his hair? Half the teen idols on the cover of Tiger Beat had this haircut. He roughed it up with his hands. Maybe that would fix it?

“Actors hang out here during the day waiting to be ‘discovered,’” White mused while stuffing an onion ring in his mouth, “I never wanted to be an actor. This is my first TV job. I was on radio before this, but they needed someone fast when they shit-canned the old host for getting ‘handsy’ with the Quizboys.”

“Prof. Dolan? No way!”

“Yes way!” White argued back, “They paid plenty to keep it out of the Enquirer, too. Settled out of court with all the kids. A real shit-show.”

Billy was shaken. He had watched Prof. Dolan's reign as Quizmaster on the show since he was five. He always assumed he had just retired.

“He’d take the champ and the runner-up back to his dressing room and give ‘horsey rides.’” White air-quoted, slowing the words down as if this had some well-known double meaning. Billy didn’t know and didn’t want to know what he was implying. He caught Billy’s expression, “Don’t worry, you would have been fine. You weren’t his type— he liked blondes with sad eyes.”

“Are all grown-ups this fucked up?” Billy finally muttered.

“Language,” White tsked.

“Ugh, you sound like my mom.”

“Jeez. I’m not that old. I gotta talk to Wardrobe about the hokey suits they stuck me with. Like I’m frickin’ Richard Dawson!” Mr. White said indignantly, “I only graduated from State, like, two years ago. Less than that!”

“That’s what I’m using the prize money for! To pay for college!” Billy interjected excitedly, “We blew my college savings on medical stuff.”

“Keep winning like you have been and you’ll cover tuition, housing and textbooks and still have money left over for beer bongs.”

“My top choice school is MIT,” Billy announced and then added, “You sound like you might be from near there, Mr. White.”

“Me? Yeah, the general area, I guess,” White prevaricated. He thought he had done a pretty good job rounding out the corners on his regional dialect to Broadcast Standard English but the kid was perceptive.

“Have you been to MIT?” Billy asked, hopefully.

“They had a good radio station,” White searched his memories, “Back in high school me and my friend Donnie would steal his older brother’s car to drive down to see bands in Cambridge on the weekends. That’s as close as I got, though. Sorry.”

“I’m from the East Coast, too,” Billy offered, “This is the longest I’ve been away from home.”

White seemed distracted, rubbing his teeth and gums vigorously with a finger.

“Are you ok, Mr. White?” Billy asked with concern, “Do your gums hurt?”

“Huh?” White said, caught in a tick, “Oh yeah. Just giving them a ‘finger check.’ Gotta floss more. Gingivitis can creep up on you.”

“I think I just saw Dabney Coleman walk by,” Billy whispered excitedly while standing on his seat, craning his neck to see further.

“Hey kid, why are you still wearing that?” White asked, gesturing up and down to Billy’s blazer over a sweater and khaki pants with a knit tie that he was wearing during the taping.

“I don’t have any other clothes,” Billy confessed, “I didn’t think I’d still be doing this three weeks later so I didn’t pack anything else.”

“You’ve been wearing the same outfit every day for three weeks? That’s disgusting,” White turned up his nose.

“No, I have two outfits. I wear one while I wash the other one in my bathroom sink. I trade off every day,” Billy said. 

“At least take the tie off when we’re not on the show so this doesn’t look like a job interview.”

Billy slid the knot down and unbuttoned his top button.

“Better,” Mr. White pointed with the butt of his hotdog, “That settles it. Tomorrow I’m taking you to buy you some decent street clothes.”

“You wanna experience Los Angeles at the cusp of a new decade at the end of the Millennium?” White pontificated, gesturing broadly as they rode down the escalator, “Then you go to the mall. The Beverly Center Mall if you can swing it.”

“There’s a scene in Less than Zero set at this exact mall,” Billy quizboyed.

“Jesus Christ, don’t tell me kids are reading Brett Easton Ellis novels now,” White peered over his sunglasses. 

“And it’s in Beverly Hills Cop. Briefly,” Billy added.

“Ok, that one is definitely R-rated and—”

“Eddie Murphy says ‘fuck’ in it 60 times,” Billy said with a naughty smile.

They walked off the escalator, crowded by shoppers, as dozens of neon-lit store signs twinkled at them across the atrium.

Mr. White always looked really stylish and put-together, Billy thought. Even when they were just hanging out at the mall he had a deconstructed white linen suit over a pastel-colored t-shirt. Billy reached up to flick some specks of white from his otherwise impeccable jacket’s cuff

“Guess the powdered donut I had for breakfast got away from me,” White laughed.

“Or your dandruff shampoo isn’t working well enough,” Billy suggested snarkily, even though the placement of the white specs didn’t make sense for either of those explanations.

White was still wearing his sunglasses even inside the mall. They had only a slight warm amber fade to them so Billy assumed they were just his regular glasses he wore all the time but it made it hard to look him directly in the eye. He had a big expensive-looking watch– probably a Rolex or something, a small gold chain around his neck and a signet ring with a pink stone on his finger. The only off element was the silky bandana-type wrap he wore on his head— a kind of tight-fitting fabric cap that covered his hair completely.

“It’s a du-rag, Billy,” White had explained on the drive over, “I put a conditioning treatment on my hair this morning so I gotta keep it covered while the chemical processes. You call it vanity, but it’s all part of the job. Gotta be slick and shiny when the cameras roll next week, y’know.”

“It still looks super weird,” Billy felt comfortable enough with Mr. White to offer his opinion. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to bring up that it still looked like he was wearing his TV make up from yesterday or he had put on a brand new face of thick foundation even though they weren’t shooting that day.

White spotted the green sign of the United Colors of Benetton, steered Billy away from the Electronics Boutique and in the front door. Here was a brand that was trendy, but not too intimidating to a fashion novice with, presumably, pretty conservative tastes. Plus they had kid sizes.

“I applied to work here when I was in college. Never hired though,” White remembered bitterly, muttering under his breath, “United Colors, my ass. I guess ‘No Color’ isn’t included that union, huh.”

Billy wasn’t listening, just overwhelmed by the size of the store and all the bright colors. Pop music blared from the sound system. Blown up photos of cheerful diverse groups of young attractive people of all races wearing primary colored Euro-Preppy outfits on white backgrounds smiled at him from the walls. Inclusive, sure, but all of them had a head-size proportionate to their bodies.

Mr. White walked with him to the kids’ section.

"You're really going above and beyond, taking me shopping, Mr. White," Billy said, "Spending all your free time helping some kid you hardly know with his problems."

“It’s kinda fun. Makes me feel useful, too. Reminds me of when I was back living at home with all the cousins and nephews and neighborhood kids underfoot. Lookin’ after 'em. Keepin' em outta trouble. I never thought I’d miss that but being out here is kinda… I dunno... isolating?” 

"What do you mean? Don't you have lots of friends from being on TV?"

"It definitely helps when booking restaurant reservations, but otherwise... nah. I don't even hang out with any of the people who work on the show, it's too awkward. You never know who's on the way out or who's trying to get you fired or take your job."

Billy looked up a shelf that stretched up to the ceiling with tiny square cubby holes for socks in every color of the rainbow.

“You end up alone a lot of the time. Alone and doing nothing. Alone in your car waiting in traffic. Waiting for a call. Waiting to go on set. Waiting for someone to tell you to do something. Makes me feel like my brain is atrophying," White sniffed noisily and wiped his nose, "I used to be wicked smart before this gig, y'know?"

Billy watched his expression shift from melancholy to resolved.

"But not today! Today belongs to us," White went over to a table of folded sweaters in neat piles,"Pick out whatever you want. Get a week’s worth of clothes. Extra socks and underwear. I’ll cover you and you can pay me back out of your winnings.”

Billy hesitated. “Don’t make fun of me but… I’ve never bought my own clothes before. My mom always picked them out and told me what to wear.”

“Explains a lot of your ‘look,’” White sniffed. Billy pouted. “What can I say, I’ve got a good eye for ‘Sunday-Best picked-out-by-mom’ after 250ish fuckin’ episodes now. I tell ya I got sweater vests dancin’ before my eyes when I go to sleep at night.”

Billy snickered. White smirked, “Buying clothes doesn’t have to be a drag. Get something you like, not what your mom likes.”

Billy looked around at the sweaters on tables, the hanging racks, the open shelves with stacks of folded shirts. He didn’t even know where to start.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“I dunno,” Billy thought, “I like green, I guess. Green or yellow.”

“Good choice. Nice contrast with the whole carrot-top you got goin’ on.” White encouraged him while pulling a striped green pullover from a shelf and handing it to him. “Try it on in a couple sizes. These koo-koo European numbers on the tag are meaningless to me.”

Billy made a selection from the rack and walked to the dressing room, White followed him and sat outside the door while he dressed.

“From now on, bring your laundry to the studio on shoot days. Wardrobe can wash them for you,” he shouted over the door, “Unless you, like, crap your pants or something. Don’t bring that to the studio.”

“I’m not going to... soil myself,” Billy sputtered with disgust from inside the room, “Jeez Louise!”

"You say that now but you never know,” White shook his finger, “In a close game those final question challenges get pretty stressful.”

Billy groaned.

“Hey. Did you pack a bathing suit?”

“No.”

White pulled a pair of swimming trunks from a rack behind him and tossed them to Billy, “Get those, we’re going to the beach later.”

Billy hesitated, “Do I have to get exactly this pair or can I pick out one that will fit?"

___

Billy had donned one of his fresh new styles to make his debut on the Santa Monica boardwalk. A butter yellow rugby shirt with mint-green stripes over avocado green elastic-ankled slacks. He mussed up his hair to look beach-ready. For the first time in his life, he thought he looked pretty cool (allowing for the whole "built like a bobble-head and shorter than parking meter" factor).

Mr. White donned a bolero hat in bleached straw with a wide brim and switched to a pair of much darker tinted sunglasses. He draped a cashmere scarf in muted mauve over his shoulders. Being out in sunlight was unavoidable in Los Angeles, so he had strategies to protect himself while still looking the peak of yuppie au courant.

“C’mere kid,” White grabbed Billy by the shoulder and squatted in front of him. “You ain’t got much of a nose but it’ll still hurt like hell if you get a sunburn on it.”

Taking a dab of sunblock (top of the line stuff, from France) from the tube, he patted it on Billy’s nose and on the top of his ears. He squirted a streak across the palm of Billy’s hand and indicated he should rub it into any other exposed skin.

A woman in a bikini with a boa constrictor draped around her neck like a scarf roller skated the opposite direction as they walked down the boardwalk.

“Welcome to Los Angeles!” she shouted behind her in a sing-song voice as she whipped past.

Billy did a double take “Wait, is that the same woman from—”

White cut him off, “Nah, there’s tons of them.”

“This is gonna sound weird, Mr. White, but I’ve never been to the beach before,” Billy said, his hand on his forehead shielding his eyes from the sun overhead as he looked out at the small waves lapping at the sand.

“Really? Never?”

Billy nodded, “I’ve even been to California before— four times! Never once made it to the beach.”

White snorted derisively, “No beach. Just came out to admire our world-famous freeway system.”

“My mother didn’t consider the beach culturally or educationally enriching. Didn’t think it was a good use of my time.”

“She sounds like a barrel of laughs,” White said snidely.

Billy counted on his fingers, “I came out twice for academic tournaments at CalTech. Once for a conference at Stanford and once to… UC Irvine, I think. It was some UC school anyway. I was only three. Some grad students let me play Asteroids on a terminal hooked to a DEC PDP-11.”

White smiled nostalgically, “Ah, the DEC minicomps. Gorgeous machines. State had one avocado green.”

“Wow, you know about computers, Mr. White?” Billy was blindsided by Mr. White’s hidden depths.

“My sophomore year, I secretly coded a program in ours that would randomly generate different ‘fuck off’s to any subsequent entered commands. Made the Freshman lab seminar think the machines had attained sentience,” White laughed. 

“You can do computer programming, too,” Billy shouted, even more amazed. He already idolized Mr. White for being tall and handsome and cool, plus being on TV, but if he knew computer stuff, too, he was ascending to god status. Mr. White might even challenge Rusty Venture for his all-time personal #1 hero pedestal.

“Oh sure. I got my BS in Computer Science. I ain’t just a pretty face, y’know.” White winked, “Theoretical and practical. Hardware. Software. Circuit engineering. Hacking, Cracking and limited Phone Phreaking.”

“That’s so cool,” Billy bounced on his heels, having found a kindred spirit, “You’re a scientist.”

“Scientist-Non Practicing,” White clarified, “Other than working as an involuntary help desk every time a boss bought a computer, I haven’t actually used those skills since graduation. I’m probably really behind the technology. I only got through C, never mind the C++.”

“How did you end up being a TV star if you were a computer scientist?”

“‘Star’ is really pushing it, pal,” White dismissed. For a smart kid, Billy was investing the low-budget production with way too much pop-cultural influence. It wasn't even a network show, just pretaped and syndicated to a patchwork of markets. White would make more money managing a Gap Kids or a Banana Republic over the chicken scratch he was paid. 

His condo and his car leases were covered by his… other job.

“You’re squinting pretty hard there,” White noticed.

“I don’t have any sunglasses and no hats will fit me.” Billy sighed. “I’ll be OK.”

White made a bee line for a kiosk on the side of the boardwalk, gesturing to Billy to follow him. A standard little pushcart, stocked with water wings and beach balls and extra tanning lotion. Of interest to them was the rack of cheap hats and sunglasses.

“This looks like it’ll fit,” White joked, putting a kid’s inflatable pool ring on Billy’s head like a swan-headed crown.

“It doesn’t give me any shade, does it?”

White pointed at a rack of cheap neon-colored plastic sunglasses. Billy scowled.

“They’re not going to fit.”

“Humor me.”

Billy sighed and demonstrated, slipping the glasses arms over his temples, warping the hinges long before the bridge met his nose. He forced the glasses on with a shove, the arms digging into the side of his head before snapping off from the pressure and they fell from his face.

“You break it, you bought it, chief,” barked the vendor.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” White mumbled, handing him a couple of crumpled dollars while still combing the racks. He found a plastic sun visor on an elastic strap. He snapped the elastic and showed it to Billy.

“How about that? Pretty clever.”

“No way. I’ll break that, too.” Billy predicted.

White thought and then grabbed a second one, paying the vendor for both. He pointed at a fluorescent green boogie board in Billy was examining. “And I’ll take that, too.”

White gave Billy money to get them both frozen yogurt and sat down with the two sun visors. With the Swiss army knife in his pocket he cut the elastic off the first visor and used it as a donor to extend the length of the second. He didn’t have the means to sew or staple it on so he tied it on in a flat-lying knot. He bent a paperclip into a little slider to keep the free end slightly adjustable. It wouldn’t last more than the day but it was good enough to let the kid wear a stupid sunhat the same as any other normal kid could. 

He finished up his jerry-rigged creation just as Billy returned, handing a paper cup to White without ever detaching his tongue from his own chocolate-vanilla swirl cone.

“Taa-daa,” White announced, holding up his creation, “I MacGyvered it.”

He slipped it over Billy’s head— the transparent plastic visor looking woefully tiny on his forehead, but actually casting a little shade over his eyes— and tugged on the loose elastic to cinch it on. It fit.

“You actually did it,” Billy said, “I’m totally, totally impressed.”

“Now let’s get to that beach you’re here to see.” 

Finding a stretch of empty sand, they left the boardwalk for the beach proper. White hung back towards a bench with a city-provided parasol covering, well in the shade. Billy kicked off his shoes, pulled off and tossed aside his flashy Benetton duds revealing the swim trunks and t-shirt underneath. 

“Before you go in, lemme refresh your sunblock or you’ll look like a boiled lobster on camera.”

“How about you Mr. White?”

“I’m already all blocked up. I took care of myself before I left the house,” White waved him off. Billy noticed Mr. White seemed to have put more clothes on since the morning, he was wearing his driving gloves on and had a long-sleeved shirt buttoned right up to the edge of his throat, plus that scarf draped over top.

“You’re not going to go in the ocean?”

“There’s a provision in my show contract that I can’t get a tan. It fucks up the lighting in the studio if I’m a different color. So I have to stay in the shade.” White gestured at the beach umbrella overhead

Billy looked a little disappointed, “That’s not gonna be fun. We came all the way here.”

“I live here. I can go to the beach whenever I want. You run around and go in the water.”

Although disappointed, Billy accepted it. He grabbed his neon boogie board and ran toward the ocean whooping cheerfully, his oversized Fido-Dido t-shirt all but entirely covering him.

“Hey! Hey! Hold up!” White called out.

Billy trotted back obediently.

“Whaddya doin’ keeping your shirt on when you're in the water? It looks dorky. You scared someone’s gonna make fun of your fat boy tits or something?”

Billy screwed up his face, disgusted, “No! Of course not.”

He peeled off his Fido Dido shirt defiantly and threw it on the ground. He threw a stink-face and a crotch-thrust at White before dashing back towards the ocean giggling.

“Oh shit,” thought White. Not what he was expecting on the secondary sexual characteristic front. He was more than a few Tanner Stages off in his estimation of how old this kid was. Speedos didn’t leave much to the imagination and he definitely wasn’t wearing the right size. Billy seemed oblivious, hopping over the incoming waves on his stumpy surfboard and screaming in delight.

White sat on the bench, thinking. The whole day in retrospect suddenly felt kinda shady. How did he feel more like pedophile because the kid was older, that made no sense! He didn't have any kind of attraction to any fuckin' kids; he just felt bad and wanted to do something nice. He shook the thoughts from his head. Fuck what people read into it.

Billy took a break from swimming and padded up to him, his sea-salt-scented bangs clinging in fettuccine strips over his forehead. White handed him a rolled towel.

“How old are you really?”

Billy stared innocently, “Fifteen. Why?”

“All this frickin’ time I thought you were like seven or something.”

Billy frowned, “Because I’m short, right?”

“And the haircut, honestly.”

Billy scowled and shook his wet hair like a dog drying off. 

“The show thinks you’re a little kid, too, y'know. You were competing against 2nd Graders! I'm gonna have to tell 'em.”

“I never claimed to be anything. Your casting people made an assumption at the audition that I chose not to correct," Billy said snottily, “I could have shown my ID if they asked.”

“Yeah, well, Casting is coked to the eyeballs. They’d book a ham sandwich to be a contestant.”

“'Coked to the eyeballs?'” Billy repeated, confused by the phrase.

“Never mind,” White shrugged, “I’ve gotta pick up a package in Sylmar, all the way down in the Valley so I should get on the road soon. Are you ready to go?”

 Billy nodded, wrapping himself in a towel. They walked back to his car.

“Now that I know you’re actually a teenager I guess I should be taking you to more mature attractions, huh?”

“Can we go see boobie movies?” Billy asked, wide-eyed and vibrating with excitement.

“Not that mature,” White rolled his eyes, “Not if you’re calling a skin flick a ‘boobie movie.’”

—

His car idled in front of the hotel as Billy got out.

“Did you have fun today?”

Billy smiled and nodded.

“Whenever you feel sad sitting alone in that hotel room, call me up and I’ll take you out for ice cream or something. No one should be alone because they’re different.”

Billy was alone more for logistics than his personal uniqueness, but it was still a heartfelt gesture.

“Even if you just wanna talk about anything that’s bothering you,” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and handed Billy a business card, “Any stupid thing. I’ll listen. I get it. I’ve been there.”

Billy turned the business card over in his hand, confused. Tasteful thickness, eggshell texture. “But it’s blank?”

White grimaced, “It’s printed white on white. Tilt it in light.”

Billy held the card up at an angle and the name Mr. White followed by his phone and a pager number flickered in subtle glossy relief to the pale nimbus background. There also was a thin edge of powder grains stuck to the long edge for some reason. He flicked them off.

Billy squinted at small writing next to his name “Why does it say '250 per gram, delivery no pickup' at the bottom?” White ignored him, and clasped his hand.

“If you’re feelin’ alone in the world just... know I’m here for you, kid.”

“Same for you,” Billy said back, but then second guessed himself. “I mean, if that’s not too presumptuous, Mr. White. I don’t know anything about your life. I’m just a kid but… it schucks to be alone all the time.”

“Yeah,” White agreed and sniffed.

“Goodnight, Mr. White.” Billy looked up at him with his puppy-dog eyes, “Thank you. Really.”

to be continued...

I gave up on posting fiction here because lack of interest and tumblr's annoying text layout but this story has TWO Illustrations and is mostly self-contained so maybe some fan might stumble onto it and get some enjoyment out of it, y'know.

→ Chapter title is a 1991 Boys II Men hit. Did I think it came out in 1989 when I titled this chapter? A little bit.

→ On a TV or Movie set, “craft service” is an assortment of snacks that is set out for the cast and crew to nosh on during breaks in shooting. Because hot meals (provided by a different department “Catering”) come at weird times on shoot, craft service keeps people on set (not ducking out to buy food). There’s a hierarchy of who gets to eat when (eg, SAG actors before non-SAG). A green room is the waiting room for guests (different than a dressing room— one room shared by all the guests) appearing on a talk show or game show and there’s usually a catering tray there, too.

→ Most facts about swearing in Eddie Murphy movies, Pink’s Hot Dogs and the Beverly Center Mall are accurate. I made up some of the hot dog names; I don't know what was on their menu in 1989. The Beverly Center Mall was the setting of 1991’s Scenes from a Mall, which was shot a year after this chapter is set.

→ A lot of that business card crap is a lift from American Psycho. Another novel by Brett Easton Ellis, came out 1991/set in 1987, movie made in 2000.

→ If anything else that needs explaining, ask me

→ the rest of the story is on AO3, but this flashback is a one-off scene. (It mostly takes place in 1995-1996 when Billy is 22, living in the trailer in the desert.)

A Conjectural Technologies backstory story ('95-'96ish) → with illustrations ←

Billy has a crush on the mean grrrl who works the video store. Pete disapproves and suddenly finds himself ever-popular with a whole new fan base

[suiana]

OH BOY I'VE BEEN WANTING TO TELL YOU😭 Okay so like the first day this motherfucker shows up he is instant asking me to buy him lunch, and like I've joked about it with my supervisor before so I was like 'haha no, I'm not buying you lunch haha' like all fun in games, lunch time rolls around, I'm waiting for my food and this fucker shows up like 'so what'd you get me?' And then he says that I owe him??? For telling him to do his JOB? but I refuse to buy him lunch then he gets pissed off like bro??? What the hell? Not to mention that he just guilt tripped me into buying him lunch like twice. (Not to mention the fact that he gets paid MORE than me, because he works longer and more days than me. Because I'm still in school, I can only work weekends, while he skips school and works an hour longer than me.)

Anyway, when we started to work together I told him what to do (because he was being fucking TERRIBLE at his job) and he started to sorta make fun of me for it (ex. 'I can't believe that someone smaller and younger than me is bossing me around', and for context I'm 5'1, around 95-100lb, and a year younger than him, so he's jus making fun of me now,) and like at first I was like 'haha... please do your JOB' and he simply REFUSED to do it. As a housekeeper, I have a fairly simple job, just make all the beds you can before you get off because I'm too small and lanky to do the actual job. The time limit is like, 10-15 mins, fairly easy if BOTH of us do it. I take around 7 mins to make one bed, but he takes FOREVER.

Just. Make the beds. That's all.

But he gets whiney and all mad and acts like a kid, 'my legs hurt', 'I don't wanna do that', 'can't you just do it for me?' Like I'm his mom. So on the first I just told him to look at the open rooms and stripe the beds, then come back and help me out.

.

.

.

He didn't come back. After I got done making like, 4 beds, I go to the room he's being lazy in and see him sitting on the couch, on his phone watching funny videos. The next day, he does the same thing. It keeps going on for like, 5 weeks. Each time he does it, our supervisor always gets on him for it. Then this week comes.

We went into different rooms to make the beds because there were only 3 rooms and I did 2, so like he did 2 beds and I did 4...

If he did do that room. Not even half way through, he comes in like 'hey, there's a tip, what do I do?' And I'm confused because I'm sure he already knows what to do with tips, but I just told him to either hide in our cart or put it on our coworkers cart, he says 'oh, I'll go put it on her cart' and I'm like ok, that shouldn't take you long...

It took him until after our break for him to come back. that's a whole 35 mins. Then he keeps doing it. 'I gotta go to the bathroom', 30 mins before our lunch break. Doesn't show up until I'm already 20 mins in my lunch break. Supervisor asks him why he keeps disappearing, he says he isn't, before he then says 'I couldn't find her cart'...

My cart was right in the open, you could see it if you looked past the elevator hallways. Then, right after our break, he disappeared again. The supervisor asked him why again and he says some more bullshit.

Then he leaves because his grandma came to pick him up. Turns out, he never did drop off the tip and our coworker never knew she was supposed to get it. Came in today and my supervisor told me that he lied and that I should just hide the tips from him when we work together (we didn't today, he went to work with someone on the ground floor, where they do custodian work) which confused me because the place we work has a strict policy, if you steal a tip then you can get fired and even go to jail.

At this point I'm wondering if our boss is his grandma or something because he kept bragging that the only reason he has this job is because his friend is the boss's granddaughter... like it was something to be proud of...

Idk, he's just been pissing me off so I've been a little mean to him (nothing too bad, just ignoring him...) so I'm wondering if I'm an asshole😭 -Pretty Anon

no ur feelings are valid, ur coworker sounds like an ass

u should get all ur other coworkers to mass complain him or smth, maybe it'll do something HAHAH

if not, i hope he starts being more responsible because dawg... he gets paid more than u and he's mot doing anything??? 💀💀💀

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.129 - Lure Me

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

Simon discovers just how enticing pheromone perfume is...

Author's note: I'm so sorry it took so long to update! I've had this chapter nearly finished about two days ago, but work and life has been so crazy. My job is going well, but I work 6 days a week and only have Sundays off right now and I start my evening part time job this coming weekend. On top of that, my truck decided to give me some more trouble yesterday and now my rear axle is leaking brake fluid. I know how to fix it, but I have to wait until I get paid again to replace all of the seals because I refuse to take it to a mechanic and pay $500 for something I could've done myself when the parts I need are less than $20. Rant over! Enjoy this chapter heavily inspired by the TikTok trend where girls put pheromone perfume on to see how their men react. Kiera and Simon really needed a chapter together. :)

*

With a motivated gaze, Kiera entered the drug store in search of a pregnancy test. Although she wasn't sure she was pregnant again, after the fact they had been trying for the past couple of months, she wanted to be sure. Once she had located the tests, she grabbed two boxes of different brands before making her way to the register, seeing her best friend who had coincidentally decided to stop at the same store on her way home from work, except she was after the clearance decor instead of a pregnancy test. "Always buying decorations, I see." Kiera teased, watching Kristen turn around in surprise once she recognized Kiera's voice.

“I can’t help it! They’re on clearance!” Kristen giggled, taking the receipt from the cashier before standing back to let Kiera place her items on the belt. “Hmmm, whatcha got there?” She arched her brow.

“Don’t act dumb, I told you me and Simon were trying for another.”

“Mhm. I haven’t talked to you in a week – didn’t know if things had changed since then.”

“Well, I can fix that. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Now don’t you act dumb,” Kristen giggled. “I’m always off on the weekend and lucky for you, I have no plans.”

“How about you come over tomorrow? Simon is taking Baler hunting and I’ll be at the house with the kids. We’ll throw on some movies and make some food that we’re not supposed to have.”

“Sounds like a plan! Is your mom going to be around? I haven’t seen her since the funeral—”

“I’ll invite her, too. She’s been asking about you,” Kiera assured her, smiling warmly at the cashier while she retrieved her receipt and bag. “Thank you.”

“Have a good evening.”

“You too.”

“Oh, meet me at my car. I have something I wanted to give you!” Kristen chimed, the pair exiting the store before Kiera joined her by walking to her SUV, watching her best friend smile with glee before retrieving a small purple bag from the floorboard of the passenger seat. “Crown Royal?”

“No, you stupid bitch!” She teased. “Clearly, you’re still an alcoholic if you think every purple bag is a Crown Royal bag!”

“A sex toy?”

“No! Open it!”

Kiera breathed a laugh as she did as she was told, opening the bag to pull out a small box, opening the box itself to remove the vial of what looked like lip gloss. “Can you guess what it is now, smartie-pants?”

“Uh… Lip gloss?”

“It’s pheromone perfume.”

“Wha?”

“You know… It’s been going around online for the longest time. Girls get it and put a bit of it on so their men go nuts for them. I figured you’d like to try it and see if Simon notices it.”

“Oh, he notices everything,” Kiera giggled. “But thank you. I wonder if it legitimately works.”

“Only one way to find out,” Kristen winked. “Let me know how it works! It worked for me!”

“I definitely will.”

*

Once Kiera had arrived home, she removed the vial of perfume from her purse, inspecting the instructions before rolling a spot behind each of her ears and on the inside of her wrists, closing the container before putting it back into her purse before making her way inside the house.

As if her hormones couldn’t have spiked enough at the thought of Simon being drawn into her scent like a moth to the flame, the sight of him alone nearly drove her into a wall.

There he was, lounging on the couch with Jacob in his arms, the house warm as Simon preferred to lounge around the house shirtless while wearing black sweatpants, the hem of his boxer briefs peeking from behind the elastic of his waistband, his tattooed forearm highlighting the tight muscle tone of his arm, the muscles tight as they contracted while holding Jacob close, his shoulder broad, and his hair lazily swept back by his fingers. Fuck, if I’m not pregnant after I take this test, I better be by the week’s end, she sighed to herself, forcing herself to concentrate and pretend that she didn’t purposely put herself into his primal desire once he smelled the new scent on her. “Hey, babe.”

His head turned to look at her from over the top of the couch, grinning at the sight of her finally arriving home to him.

“Hey, love. Your mum said she’d be over around eight. She told me she was bringing over a casserole and a cheesecake.”

“I’ll make some sides, then,” She nodded, setting her purse on the kitchen island. “Where’s Baler?”

She heard Simon scoff before standing to his feet, gathering both twins by each of his arms before bringing them into the kitchen to see their mother, his senses for primal desire heightening once he agreed with himself that something was different about his wife. She’s still just as beautiful, she still looks the same, but a part of me wants to bite a chunk out of her – fuck she smells so good.

“He’s at the barn,” He huffed, forcing himself to fight the monstrous urge that was beginning to boil in his loins. “That boy of ours is going to be the death of us, love.”

“Why? What did he do?”

“Where should I start?” He huffed, securely sitting Jacob into the highchair while Kiera did the same, placing a kiss to Evie’s temple before securing her into the highchair, curling her index finger against the baby’s lip to collect the loose saliva that pooled there. “Caught him and the other wranglers playing some stupid game of chicken with a bloody bull—”

“Cowboy Poker?” Kiera scoffed, surprised. “Is he okay?!”

“His pride is more hurt than his body. Well, probably both,” Simon shrugged. “Busted lip and bruised ribs, but he’ll be alright. A little more chore as a punishment until late then getting up early in the morning to go hunting. It’ll do him some good.”

“What else did he do?”

“Caught him drinking whiskey. Should’ve made him drink a half of another bottle to make him sick so he won’t do it again because if I just punish him for it, he’ll keep doing it.”

“As much as I agree, he’s also a teenager, but he has some brains in that head of his and I think he’s smart enough to know right from wrong.”

“I hope you’re right, love,” He breathed, his gaze watching her as she proceeded to do minor chores around the kitchen, unaware that her husband was watching her every move like a hawk, her intense scent nearly driving him mad. “Something is… different about you.”

“Just another day,” She giggled. “What do you think is different?”

“I can’t put my finger on it. Don’t take me wrong, but you… You smell so bloody good.” He huffed, stepping closer to her, the minor scent driving him further and further over the edge, her playful body language being no less than a tease at this point.

“I take it you like my new perfume,” She hummed. “I’ve had it since before we met. I just never wore it until now.”

“I can assure you, love – if you would’ve worn that the day we met, I would’ve gotten myself killed in the line of fire or have had you bent over my cot in the barracks far before I ever came home with you.” He breathed, his nose now pressed to the thin skin behind her ear, inhaling the divine scent that increased his heartrate.

“Is that so? I would’ve liked that…”

His arms were on either side of her, his palms pressed firmly against the edge of the counter, his veins protruding and an erection threatening to push against his sweatpants. “Are you putting a spell on me, love?”

“Maybe…” She hummed, giving him further access to her neck, chills erecting along her spine when she felt his warm lips press into the hot skin beneath them.

“Who am I kidding – you’ve had a spell on me since day one, but this, whatever this is that’s drawing me to you more than I have before – fuck, I don’t even know what I’m talking about right now.”

“What’s going through that mind of yours, babe?” She breathed.

“Do you want to know the descriptive version or the simplified reason?” He replied lowly.

“I think I want to hear what’s really going through my husband’s mind…”

“Right now, I really want to put the kids to bed and bend you over this counter…”

“Well, you can’t do that, babe.”

“What’s stopping me?”

“I guess I have to remind you now that you said my own mother is bringing a casserole over…”

“That’s what rooms are for, love,” He whispered, smirking against her skin while his erection subtly pressed against her rear.

Although Simon was nearly driven wild by her scent alone, he hadn’t known about the effect he was having on her, too. His shirtless torso, his tattoos, the way his own smell lingered in her senses, soon finding herself pressing her thighs together. “I’m going to put the kids in the nursery.” He spoke softly in her ear, leaving a sloppy kiss behind on her neck before leaving her flustered against the counter.

“I-I’ll help you,” She nearly panted, picking up Evie while Simon grasped Jacob, taking the drowsy infants to their cribs to nurse on a pacifier. Although the twins had their “moments” of consistent energy, they always seemed to settle down between the hours of seven and nine, which worked out perfect for Kiera and Simon as they both loved to have structure as well as a routine.

After they spent a few moments settling the twins into their crib for the night, Kiera softly whispered a “Goodnight, babies, mommy loves you,” before dimming the lamp on the nightstand that separated their cribs, meeting Simon at the doorway, nearly flustered at how he leant against the frame, his arm extended above his head to support his weight, nearly towering over her as she approached… nervously?

“Why so nervous, love?” He smirked.

“You’re just so… tall.” She breathed.

“Took you nearly four years to come up with that solution?” He teased, arching his brow, letting his hands fall to rest on her hips, gently pulling her into him, the pair oblivious to how their heartrates soon matched the other.

“Keep your hands on me, Simon.”

“I can do that.” He replied softly, leaning his head down to claim her lips with his while he selfishly grabbed at her ass, giving it a firm slap before he effortlessly lifted her onto him, pleased at how her legs wrapped around her waist, groaning into her mouth when he felt her tug on the roots of his hair. “Fuck.” He groaned.

“Take me to our bed,” She whispered, her tone nearly dominant, which Simon loved.

“Feeling cheeky are you?”

“Just a little bit…” She hummed, feeling Simon’s grip on her loosen once he had gotten them close to the bed, smirking when he felt Kiera’s palms press firmly against his chest, taken aback by how she seemed to effortlessly push him onto the bed, straddling his hips once he was completely under her, his hands resting on the top of her thighs. “Do you know what it does to me when I come home and you’re walking around shirtless?”

“I won’t do it anymore.” He teased.

“I didn’t say that, Simon, shut up.”

“Mm, say that again, love.”

“Have a kink for a dominant woman?”

“Fuck yes I do,” He winced, chills decorating his chest and arms when her palm rested on the base of his neck, right against his collar bone. “I’ll be on my bloody knees for you, love.”

“It’s me who’s going to be on my knees,” She breathed, leaning forward to press a kiss to the area beneath his jaw, rolling her hips against his erection, pleased to hear a whine leave his throat. “Watch me, Simon.”

He nodded, his brown eyes piercing into her hazel irises as he watched her sit up on his waist, crossing her arms across her torso as she slowly lifted the thin fabric of her blouse, revealing the maroon lace that drove Simon crazy at the sight. Of course, he had seen her in lace before, but maroon? His erection was almost painful at the sight. Fuck, I’m going to rip that off of you!

“No touching… yet,” She giggled, playfully slapping his hands away, watching him smirk at her authoritative tone. “Hands above your head, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He smirked, enjoying the feeling of her hands forcing his above his head. “What if these so happen to leave their designated post?”

“Then I guess you can go the rest of the night guessing what I was going to do,” She arched her brow. “Keep those hands where they are.”

He breathed heavily, closing his eyes briefly to enjoy her touch, his former insecurities and fears no longer a part of his vocabulary every time her fingers grazed over his ribcage, touching him to her own pleasure instead of his. When he felt her breath hovering over his dripping shaft, he whined when he finally felt her lips envelope his sensitive tip. He wanted to touch her – so bad – but a part of him wanted to continue hearing her assert her dominance with him, but another part of him didn’t want to feel the absence of her hot mouth around him just to punish him for disobeying her. Just bloody wait until I get my hands on you, love, he huffed to himself.

Her head bobbed slowly as she took him with comfort, not once did she gag like before, the only sounds filling the room was his whimpering and the wet sounds of her saliva mixing with his excitement. “Fuck,” He hissed, breaking her rule by bringing his hands down to tangle in her hair, nearly biting his own lip when she abruptly separated her mouth from his shaft to force his hands back up over his head, Simon grinning in satisfaction at her actions. “Cheeky.”

“What did I tell you?” She whispered.

“I heard what you told me, but I don’t play by the rules, love,” He groaned, his eyes fluttering when he felt her core sliding against his shaft, teasing him while her hands stayed pressed against his wrists to keep them in place, the pair groaning in unison when they connected intimately. “Fuck, you just fucking wait until I get a hold of you, darling.”

“I love when you threaten me with a good time,” She panted, rolling her hips against him, taking him deeper and deeper with every move of her hips, the lace from her lingerie subtly rubbing against him. “Big, strong man like you under me… Now that is something to get off on.” She teased.

“You can use me any time your little heart desires, love,” He breathed into her mouth when she had finally rewarded him with a kiss, his arms snaking around her waist once she had granted him permission to touch her, his hand grasping the lace thong that still dressed her hips and forcing it to the side, giving him better access to thrust his hips upward into her. “How special was this little number on you?”

“I can always buy another one if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” He smirked, leaning up to toss her onto her back, sitting back on his knees while his grasp on her lace underwear was effortlessly ripped free of her skin by his stone grip. “Have to get this shite out of my way.”

“And to think I thought you loved this on me.” She giggled, her mouth agape when he entered her again, legs wrapping around his waist while his hand cupped her jaw, forcing her mouth to be in symmetry with his.

“Oh, I do love it, but I love it even more when I get to rip it off,” He hissed, his grip tightening slightly beneath her jaw. “This spell you’ve put on me… Fuck.”

“Worked hard on it.” She giggled.

He wanted to reply, but the way she gripped him was too good to risk a sentence over. The way her nails dug into the thick muscle of his back, how her calves tightened around his thighs, the way her hips were at the perfect angle for him to feel every ridge of her core, how her lips placed such loving and encouraging kisses to his throat and under his jaw. “Choke me, Simon.”

“Tell me if I hurt you, love.”

She nodded, gasping when the warmth of his hand cupped her entire throat, squeezing either side softly before adding more pressure, the blood rushing to her head before the sensation of his thrusts became intense with pleasure, her heartrate increasing with excitement, unable to help but think about how many tracheas he had crushed with the same hand, yet it was gentle with his wife and children.

And that thought alone sent an adrenaline rush to her very core, the intense wave of an immediate orgasm pulling him into a pure wave of ecstasy that couldn’t be stopped. His hips were angled perfectly against her, thrusting relentlessly into her as if his life depended on it, the headboard banging against the wall while his hands cupped the crown of her head as she gasped through her orgasm, his soon to follow when he felt her walls spasming around him as her legs tightened around him, inviting him to mark her as his.

Just like every time.

Once he had come down from his high, his hot breath fanned against her neck, replacing the subtle red mark from his grip on her neck with apologetic kisses, feeling the burning from her scratches on his back forming welts. “Fuck—” He breathed, pressing his nose against the skin behind her ear, still smelling the scent of the perfume that had lured him further into her spell of hormones onto him, wanting to fuck her through the mattress every time he smelled it.

And he’d willingly accept that fate.

Their skin was layered with a thin sheen of sweat, panting against each other to catch their breath while Simon continued to press soft and heavy kisses to her collarbone and base of her neck, his heart thumping with excitement once more when that familiar smell made its way into his senses, shocked to feel that he was still hard after having just climaxed. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, love.”

“Is that a problem?” She giggled, feeling the tip of his nose resting against the skin below her jaw.

“The only problem is that I’ve already came and still hard.” He breathed a chuckle.

“You know how you should fix that?”

“Hm?”

“Fuck me again.” 

[theretirementstory]

Bonjour tout le monde, oh how beautiful can winter be, this time I actually braved the cold to get this photo it was just too good to miss.

We have had “flocons de neige” , rain, cloud and sunshine but it has also been bitterly cold. Never mind the heating is on and I have been eating better so warm inside and out. I must be feeling better as I have baked, cheese scones, prepared roast dinners, cooked chilli and made a pan of soup.

The weather hasn’t stopped me going to do my shopping although the knitting has been pulling me back to continue with that.

My cleaner came twice this week but is away for the weekend so won’t be with me on Monday. With that in mind I decided to start the jigsaw my friend bought for my birthday. Wow it took me two hours to sort out the edge pieces and try to get those put together. I am sure it will take me until Wednesday to get it all finished so I think it’s a good idea that I have made food, just to be reheated, as the jigsaw will take all my time 😂.

It’s been a mixed emotions week, I was thinking of a friends and family, no longer with us, who would have celebrated birthday’s or who passed away at this time of year. Back to the here and now, it was Anie’s birthday on Friday. I couldn’t get in touch with her so she didn’t get her present until Saturday, fortunately the gerbera I bought on Thursday had remained wonderfully fresh in the car. She invited me for tea and gateau and we had a great time catching up and looking at photos of her holiday in Indonesia. I had made soup so took some for her, along with a couple of mince tarts, coconut slice and stuffed dates. She would like the recipe for the coconut slice so I will send it to her.

Now it’s the music section of the blog and this first record is back to the 1960’s. It’s “Beggin’” by Frankie Valli and The four Seasons, released in 1967. The next song , I would have said is more “up to date”, but as it is actually 23 years old this year I guess it’s still “old” to a lot of people. It is “Whenever, Wherever” by Shakira released in 2001. As someone once wrote “The rhythm of life is a powerful beat, puts a tingle in your fingers and a tingle in your feet”. Let’s hope that’s what these songs do for you each week!

Monique messaged to say she is in hospital, her white blood cell count was very low and she is still in the emergency ward, they will transfer her to haematology on Monday. I am messaging her to keep her spirits up.

“The Photographer” was at Scarborough AFC match on Saturday doing his “voluntary” job. Apparently it was freezing cold and by half time he couldn’t feel his fingers. He did however manage to get some great photos.

“The Trainee Solicitor” has had another busy week (a bit like his mother 😉) plus he had the worst luck in that he had an overflowing toilet (fortunately from the cistern). It’s still a nuisance, I hate leaking water as it can do so much damage! Anyway “Superdad” is hopefully going over today with a new plunger and will fit it, so that the toilet is working again. Another thing he could have done without I am sure!

“The Ex-Graduate” went to take her details to the new job she is due to start around the end of February. She had been out to buy some new work clothes and is looking forward to this new phase of her life. I remember starting my first job, £15 per week, £13 of that into my hand and I thought I was rich! When I left that job nine months later to go to a job that paid £22 (gross) per week I really thought I had arrived 😂.

My grandchildren are with their Mummy this weekend so no “surprise” FaceTime calls.

I haven’t heard from my friends in Bristol and I think once the jigsaw is finished 🙈 I will have to get in touch.

Now it is time for me to have another hot drink and get myself all ready to ………. continue with the jigsaw 😂😂.

It is only 2c here so wherever you are I hope it is warmer than this.

The photo below shows new apartments built at the back of one of the 12th century churches we have in town.

Bon dimanche!

[renneiscent]

Two Sides of The Same Coin

Note: This chapter… is kind of contained NSFW part that I embarrassedly managed to write. So... yeah, pardon my bad grammar and ugly writing.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 8: …but also my heart that yearns for you.

“So, where is this secret coffee shop you talked about?”

I turn and find Jake is putting his wallet inside his pants pocket. We just had finished delightful lunch, our laughter and conversation (mostly my monologues) are still lingering in the air as we walk out from the restaurant. I have no clue about how much Jake paid for today’s lunch but I saw some cash when he paid for our food. It must be so damn expensive. I’m upset that old man didn’t give him free meal or at least discount, at least that’s what I saw judging about how much cash Jake handed to the cashier.

“That’s just few blocks from my flat,” I explain. But that means we will separate too soon if we go grab some coffee right away. I don’t want that.

“Oh,” his brows are raised. I guess he realise that too. “Very well, shall we go now?”

Then Jake calls the taxi for us while I’m hoping for us to hardly get the taxi, but no, the taxi comes right away parked in front of us. He then opens the door for me as the sign to get inside first, which I stop him right away by holding the side of his shirt. I’m thinking to go there by bus, but it is too much of public space. Too many people. Who can ensure that it will be safe for Jake and his transparency while being in the public transportation? I highly doubt that. So it makes taxi is the best option we got so far. Let’s just ask the driver to stop at the bus stop so we can walk to the coffee shop. Yeah, that will do.

“Nothing,” I smile. “Let’s go then.”

The traffic is smooth, which I hate it. I’m hoping it will be crowded and there is going to be traffic jam like usual. It’s Sunday after all, it’s a weekend! But why suddenly people didn’t go out and crowd the whole street like when I spent some time by myself? I take glance on my phone screen, it’s still 5 o’clock but the sky already turns darker rather than usual. Will it rain? As soon as I notice the bus stop, I immediately sign the driver to stop. Jake looks very surprised but he didn’t ask much but just pay the fare again. I hope I didn’t make him broke in one date.

“What was that?” he walks beside me. I look up and read his expression which is now showing confusion and uncertainty.

I cannot help myself but grin. “Nothing,” I lie.

“What’s that grin for?” He lifts one brow, still watching me in perplexed.

I press my lips together, forcing my smile away. “I’m just excited to get some coffee.”

“Right,” he smiles. “As if I didn’t notice your sneaky plan to stop the taxi right in front of the nearest bus stop in your neighbourhood.”

I blush.

I’m trying to counter his statement—which is true and I hate to admit it, but I cannot come up with anything. So I’m just looking away while our hands are brushing each other until Jake chooses to hold mine, his hand covering my hand entirely. Without saying anything, I’m holding his hand and intertwining our fingers together as if they were meant to fit perfectly together.

As we step inside the coffee shop, there are only 4 customers inside; one person is sitting while facing the huge window of the shop and reading a thick novel, two people are sitting not far from the first person while having chit-chat and sipping their lattes, the last person is drowning on whatever on her laptop with a slice of carrot cake and latte as her companion. It makes us don’t have to get in line and directly order the coffee to the barista.

“Good afternoon,” the barista smiles cheerfully to both of us. “Oh—it’s you MC. How have you been? I rarely see you these days. Let me guess… cappuccino for here as usual?”

“Hi Kevin,” I greet him. Since I’m one of those loyal customers here, it isn’t weird that the barista know my name and even my usual order, right? Especially when the shop is near my place and we often have the chance to bump into each other. “Yes, I’ve been busy these days. Now finally have some free time to get my usual order.”

I chuckle. Kevin also chuckles. Only Jake that doesn’t chuckle.

“Of course,” Kevin winks while smiling so wide. “Then what about you, mate?”

“Coffee. Black. For takeaway…” he takes a short pause. “…mate.”

“We don’t stay here?” I ask, confused.

“I prefer spending time in your place,” he winks at me as he tugs the strand of my hair behind my ear.

That’s a sudden strangely hot moment he gives me.

“Oh…” I can feel the heat on my face. “Well then, mine also takeaway please.” And I find Kevin’s face is strangely frowning. Now I understand about what’s happening here. Jake is jealous. I love it. I love the Jealous Jake.

“Good, so 1 cappuccino for you and 1 black coffee for this mate and take away.” Kevin wraps our orders before asking about the warm pumpkin pie on the display or their signature carrot cake or their new muffin like usual. “That will be £5.20.”

Jake takes his wallet out from his pocket and I quickly hold his wrist to stop him from spend more money in our very first date. “No, you promise me I will buy you coffee.”

“Yeah, and I did.” He hands out the cash to Kevin, “would you mind to give the receipt to the lady next to me, Kevin? Oh, you can keep the change.”

“What—well, thanks mate…” Kevin says sheepishly and hands me the receipt before going to make our orders.

I stare at the receipt then stare at Jake who is now leaning on the wall and his eyes are gazing on me, waiting for my response. “Uhm, a little bit help here?”

“You insisted to buy me coffee,” he smiles. “I bought yours and you bought mine. The price is on that receipt you are holding.”

I nod then quickly grope for my wallet inside my purse but then Jake holds my hand and pulls me closer to him. “Later,” he says. “We still have much time.”

I smile, completely amused with his act. I always have this assumption about how much Jake is not PDA person but thinking about today, I need to dump that assumption. Judging from today’s date, he is like a man written by woman; he is gentle, polite, such a sweetheart, that type of guy that you will not be ashamed to bring in front of your friends or family. That type of guy that will make your parents love him more than you as their own child. That type of guy that will make your friends defend him when you have an argument with him. That type of guy that will make you question yourself about what did your past life do until you have him in your arms?

I might sound like I’m really biased but Jake is such a lovely man and it’s such an unfortunate how he is living tough life like this; when a freedom is such a luxury to have. It makes me so eager to discover about his life, to reveal what actually happened until he lost that luxury. But to be honest, I’m kind of scared. Rather than scared with the damage that I will find from him, I’m more scared if my questions, my intention to know him further will bring him to the memory he want to erase. I’m more scared with the questions that in any way will harm him and damage him even more. Because he must have lost so many things, he must have killed so many parts of himself just to stay alive, just to be survived.

We are only a block away from my place, when I’m slowing my pace until stop completely. Jake notices right away as he also stops and turns himself to face me completely, holding the black coffee that he sipped in every minute. He lifts one brow and look at me, perhaps studying me for finding the reason why I suddenly stop when it’s just a block away from our final destination.

Just when I open my mouth intending to call his name, I feel a droplet of water against my skin. It begins with the pitter-patter of the rain but the drops suddenly fall even faster and become a downpour. The sudden heavy rain is pouring and every drop of the water bathes me in until I can smell that fresh and earthy scent. People are rushing and passing past us, seeking for the shelter to run away from the rainfall, but neither of us is moving, neither of us is trying to get away.

Neither of us, until Jake moves first. He throws his cup of black coffee that I’m certain that’s already mixed with the fresh water from upstairs, I throw mine too—I wonder if we will get scold for littering in the middle of heavy rain. His hand reaches my face, despite the cold of the rainfall is that sliding down on my skin, my face, my neck, my body, my everything, and I still can feel the warmth from his skin that brushing me. I still can feel the taste of his lips that strokes against me. I still can feel his body heat that press against me. I still can feel him.

The lips of his as cold as the first snow in the soothing night and as wet as the dew on the grass in the morning, it’s soaked from the rain but then I can feel the warmth of his tongue gently strokes mine. It twirls and dances inside me, giving me life and colour when our surroundings feel little grey because of the rain. Jake’s warm hand is moving to the back of my head and the other hand is holding my waist tightly, wrapping me in his embrace; while both of my hands are clutching on his shoulders as if those already attached with him, becoming him.

Is it our second kiss? I cannot remember. Every time we have kiss, it’s feeling so great, it’s feeling so amazing. It feels like we have done this so many times since his mouth fits mine so perfectly, as if this is our usual routine, as if we are the two pieces of puzzle that matching.

If only it’s not because both of us are still mere human that need oxygen to breath, there is nothing that can possibly separate us right now. I lean on his chest while hoping to hear his heartbeat but only the rainfall that I can hear. He pulls me closer into his arms, embracing me until I can feel his chest is going up and down as he is panting so hard.

“Going to catch the cold, aren’t we?” he chuckles. His words are clear as he speaks next to my temple. “Come on,” he says while pulling me away and taking my wrist, keeping me close as both of us are running. I match my pace with him, both of us are running until we finally reach the entrance of Mister Wright’s building.

“Should check the weather forecast,” I pretend to be disappointed. I’m grateful, absolutely. I cannot help but notice the figure of Jake who is soaked by the rain; how dare he is brushing his drenched hair while the shirt that soaked by water is clinging to his torso, outlining the lines of his abdomen. How dare he do that without thinking the damage that he causes on me?

“Neither did I,” he takes out his flip phone, perhaps checking if the phone still works out or not.

“It feels like the rain is not going to stop any sooner,” I mumble, waiting for him done checking his phone.

“Feels so,” he turns at me. “You should go inside and get change immediately.”

“What about you?”

“Do you have umbrella that I can borrow?”

“And letting you pass through that heavy rainfalls after soaked by the water? No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Come inside, I believe I have some clothes that you can borrow.”

“How come you have some clothes which fit me?” he lifts one of his eyebrows, there is accusation in his tone. Oh, is he being jealous? I love this overprotective side of him.

“I like wearing oversized clothes when staying at home,” I open the entrance door and beckons him to follow me. “Some of it really big since I bought men outfit. So I believe you can wear it.” As we are going inside, there is so much water over the floor as if there is something leaked. It feels like not only us that got soaked by the sudden rainfall.  I hope we don’t get scolded by Mister Wright or maybe I will just make Jake to persuade him in case he’s angry.

When we finally inside my flat, I immediately go to the bathroom and take two towels. I hand one of it to Jake and dry myself with another towel. “Wait here, let me take the clothes,” I sprint toward my bedroom and check my cupboard to see the oversized shirt and pants that I thought will fit on Jake. After I managed to find the right size, I head toward him.

Normally I’m neither feeling shy nor awkward when a guy is taking off his shirt and making him exposed his upper’s body half-naked. Normally. Since I’m growing up with brother who loves to bring his guy friends stay over or spend the weekend together, I’m getting used with that kind of horror scene. But this time is different, well of course it is! I already thought about whatever lies beneath that polo shirt twice—let me remind you, twice! Which is I never did it with other guys before. So when I found Jake with his upper body’s half naked, exposing his bare skin and making me notice that he owns these huge tattoos that covered almost of his back, what do you expect me to do besides subconsciously walk toward him and brush his tattoo with my fingers?

It’s just a small and light touch that I made subconsciously against his back, but he easily flinches and immediately holds my wrist, his gaze on me is intense.

“I don’t know you are a tattoo person,” I comment. “Even the massive one.”

“I’m seriously concerned about your opinion on me,” he escapes soft chuckle.

“That’s why you need to open up,” I click my tongue. “First thing first, may I see it?” I beam.

There is slightest hesitation on his face but then for whatever reason, he relents. Then he turns his back on me, granting me with a great view of his back and of course his tattoos. As my fingers gingerly explore the intricate designs etched upon his skin, I find myself captivated by the artwork that adorns him. Beginning at the upper back, near his nape, a majestic ship with its flag unfurled commands attention. Following the contours of his spine, a meticulously crafted clock, its intricate details resembling a perfectly real image, captures my gaze. Nestled beneath the clock, a compass merges harmoniously with bare branches, their absence of leaves adding more questions for me about the meaning of his tattoo. The compass is connected with a simple design gears, but still meticulously shaped and aligned. As my eyes travel downward, I discover a lighthouse gracefully stretching from his lower back to his loin, elegantly encircled by twin anchors. The expanse of his shoulder blades down to the lowest part of back reveals a symmetrical arrangement of bold geometric lines resembling wings, as if those are fences that keeping the art on his spine to be protected.

While I’m staring on his tattoos, my eyes are catching some scars scattered like there is the constellation engraved on his back. The scars that are faint and covered with the tattoos’ ink make you have to get closely to see them. “This is beautiful,” I says while keep stroking his back. “This is painfully beautiful,” I correct my previous word. With the amount of pain for making this masterpiece, I couldn’t imagine how much he needs to suffer.

He turns to face me, there is something in his gaze that I cannot grasp into it. “I will deliver your praise to the creator,” his lips curl and form a smile.

“So many people must want to get in line to see that masterpiece,” I tease.

“I don’t know about that,” his hip is leaning against the wall while still staring at me. “There are only two people this far.”

“Two?” I lift my eyebrows, feeling upset about the fact that I’m the second. “Who are they?”

“The tattoo artist and you.”

I cannot recall who starts this another round of passionate kiss we are sharing with each other; was it me or was it Jake? The only thing that I can remember that I lean closer to him as his hand glides to my lower back and pulls me against him, and just like that… our lips are pressing into each other again. The kiss is little different this time; it’s still sharing the same passion and affection from the previous, but it’s more deep and somehow more desperate.

He pushes my body and makes me being pinned against the wall, not so hard but it’s so gentle. His hands wrap around me as if I’m a fragile thing and he is afraid to cause any harm. The mouth of his tastes so sweet and I’m certainly addicted with the taste and its sensation he puts under me. He pulls down the collar of my turtleneck, making it expose a glimpse of my skin and he claims the land to be his. He kisses, he nibbles, he sucks, as if he is trying to declare that I’m his.

And he succeeds.

As I cannot help myself but escape a soft moan, my hands are clutching onto his shoulder and grasping it tightly. I perhaps cannot think straight under this situation but I clearly know what I want. And I want him right now, so, so bad. And I want to throw whatever things that crossing Jake’s mind, until it makes him pull away and stares at me with those ocean waves that still calmly welcome me.

“Should I stop?”

That question is clearly rhetorical. He is not asking because he wants to stop, but instead he is asking because he wants me to say it clearly what I want. He wants me to say it out loud, that I, also want him as much as he wants me.

“No,” I trace his bare chest with my finger. “I thought it’s clear that I want you as much as you want me.”

“I hope you are aware that I just wanted to have lunch with you,” he inhales deeply and exhales sharply. “And I didn’t come prepared, not at all,” he nudges his nose on my forehead.

“I hope you are aware that I’m always understanding my menstrual cycle,” I’m peppering his neck with kisses. “And lucky you, it’s already passed my fertile time.”

He clenches his jaw with his eyes are staring at me, it’s growing darker as if the desire he has been holding is finally growing bigger and consuming him. But he still hesitates to make a move.

“No way, is it your first time?” I accuse.

He snorts, feeling offended with my accusation, “I’m sorry to disappoint you but you are not my first.” He lifts his brow, showing that cocky grin that I don’t know that he has. “Is it yours?”

“Of course not,” now I’m the one that feeling offended right now. I don’t know why it feels like we are showing off about the fact that we both already had our first time moment in having intercourse with someone else. “Then, why you still hesitate? Do you have STI?” I accuse him again.

“I’m really strict with the person I’m making love with,” he leans closer and plants another kiss on my temple to my jaw and then my neck. “I can assure you that I’m clean,” his hand is slipping under my shirt as he is breathing and whispering on my ear. “Are you?”

The way he said making love instead of having intercourse or having sex—or worst, fucking someone, really managed to make my heart pounding so hard. “Am I what?” I feel like I’m starting to lose my composure as he begins to claim me again.

“Clean,” he replies shortly as his hand that inside my shirt is caressing my skin. I can feel his warm hand again on me. “Are you also clean, MC?”

“I am,” I answer but I’m not sure if the words managed to escape from my mouth because what I can hear is my moan and his deep breath that are born because of his fingers running all over my skin and my thigh suddenly between his legs. As my knees feel weak and start to tremble, I’m clutching onto Jake and mumble, “let’s move to bedroom.”

Note: Don’t do this, fella. Remember what Uncle Ben said, great power comes with great responsibility. Always use contraception! And always put the trash on the trash bin! Do not littering!

[fractallogic]

Literally the moment I pressed post on the last one, my doorbell rang to alert me to PAKIDGE

However, I’ve now been on the phone with Amazon customer service for 15 min (by the time I hung up the call, it was THIRTY-TWO MINUTES) because I noticed “hey those are ads and I specifically paid to NOT see ads… also this is a 16GB one and I definitely ordered the 8GB one”

And all the love to this poor support person but boy they do not have the best and brightest working the support desk because it feels like she’s willfully misunderstanding my problem

The conversation we had (under the cut) was MINDNUMBING and EXHAUSTING and you know who desperately needs the apparent services of this company I’m interviewing for to VASTLY improve their call center staff? Fucking Amazon. Jesus.

AND AGAIN!! They are probably fucking swamped (and also why I’m not receiving my NEW kindle until fucking Monday, which, hello, why bother ordering it at midnight then). And for a call center I know you basically just have to be a warm body who can follow a script. But man I am so frustrated with my first-world problem.

“I ordered X+Y and I got only A, which comes out to the same price, so I’m pretty sure the packages got mixed up before shipment”

“so you ordered a second kindle also on July 11th?”

“*facepalm* no, just the one.”

“Okay I can remove the ads on it for you for a $20 charge”

“uh no, I paid to have the ads removed”

“oh I see that here, okay, let me make sure we can get you a refund on that.”

“Wait before you do that, can we figure out why there are two kindles on my account??? This is the only one I have”

“okay so just go to the settings and read off the serial number”

“it just started updating itself??”

“Oh that’s because I accidentally pressed the button to remove ads”

“[bruh.] okay, well, it says it’s restarting, so I’ll be able to get you that serial number soon”

“So it says here you ordered the 8GB without ads and the 16GB with ads”

“[BRUHHHH] nope, just the 8GB one, I don’t know why I have the 16GB one here and registered to my account, because in my orders I only have the 8GB one, which says it was delivered today, which is actually the 16GB one that I’m calling you about”

“…”

“Listen I’m happy to return it [no I’m not, the correct customer service thing for the GIANT MEGACORPORATION AMAZON to do is to say “hahaha oh that’s okay, it’s our fault, we’ll let you keep that one, let me just delete the other one off your account, isn’t that weird!!”]”

“Okay great please deregister it from your account and let me get a return started for it, do you want a QR code?”

“…for what?”

“For UPS to ship it back, unless you’d rather have a printable label?”

“[I literally just got an email with a barcode in it to send back my kindle fire today from the Amazon lockers in Whole Foods but okay sure] okay, yeah, the QR code is better, then”

*I am on hold for literally ten minutes writing this post thinking wtf is happening for a QR code to be generated*

“Okay sorry for taking all your time ma’am, but since it was just received today, we couldn’t generate a QR code, and we’ll have to give you a printable label. the replacement device will be shipped to you by……… Monday”

“…sigh fine” [WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ORDERING IT IMMEDIATELY THEN]

“Is Monday okay for you ma’am??”

“I mean yeah it’s fine, I was just [white lie time!!] hoping to take it with me on a trip this weekend”

“Will you be able to receive it on Monday, ma’am?”

“Yeah. Monday’s fine.”

“Okay you should receive it by Monday, but you can use the other one in the meantime, since the shipping label expires in a week”

[bruh. I deregistered it. I’m not setting it up again, sending it back and then setting up a kindle for a THIRD TIME] “okay”

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Nope [please just leave me alone now y’all are useless]”

“Okay enjoy your weekend have a nice day bye!”

“Yeeeepppp okay you too bye”

[chinahatbeach]

Thoughts for Today

Friday. Aloha Friday…… I am looking forward to the weekend. Big plans….. nope. Taking a nap, maybe. I just have today to get through and then, the couch calls my name. A hot cup of tea, snuggly blanket, and my doggos.

Yesterday was a tiring day. By the time I got home, had something to eat, and watched a bit of tv, I was done. Somedays wear you out more than others.

I find that the one company I work for grates on me. They are so unorganized. I asked for Comet cleaner in December and finally got it last night. My new boss called me to tell me that a fellow from the company would make a delivery to the jobsite. I was across the street working at a different company and cleaning there. The fellow showed up with two bottles of Comet liquid cleanser. I shall use it sparingly as I have no clue if I’ll get any in the near future.

Today’s adventure is cleaning for a new customer. She had broken her hip and can’t do things. She has 5 or 6 cats and can’t clean the cat litter. Think about that…….and use your nose for those thoughts. Hazmat suit comes to my mind. I’ve cleaned cat litter that was more like cement. Take that litter pan outside and put the whole mess in the garbage can. The garbage man would have a hard time lifting it. Cement I tell you. Urine odor. Tootsie Rolls of epic proportion.

Over the years, I remember the jobs that would make most people gag. I have a top ten of putrid homes. Most of those came along when I cleaned apartments for a living. Oh, the sights I have seen.

Number one worst was Alice’s townhome. She was a neighbor of ours when we lived off of Mahama Way. She had mental issues but was the sweetest lady. She had cats and a dog. The cats peed up against the kitchen cabinets, the walls, and most everywhere. The rug stuck to the molding along the wall due to the amount of pee. The washer leaked and ruined the floor. The stench was overwhelming. No one else would work for us to help us remove the carpeting and do needed repairs. And we also had another person who lived in another townhome who lived with two dogs who urinated and pooped all over the downstairs carpeting. Her downstairs toilet leaked and was sinking into the floor. Her refrigerator had an ungodly amount of black mold. And these folks never notified management of any issues.

I’ve dealt with poopy diapers left behind when people moved out. I’ve seen maggot ridden food left behind. Plugged toilets…. apples do not flush. Tooth brushes and toys do not flush.

After typing up about those horrid jobs, I should write a book on the horrible things I have seen. It would be titled, “Why Clean Your House?”

At least I haven’t found dead bodies at homes but then again, anything is possible. One apartment manager told me his horrible story of having a tenant who was a great tenant…… she always paid her rent before it was due, never was loud, but……….. one day she just moved and didn’t say a thing. He didn’t get her rent and wondered why. After the necessary time and paperwork filed, he went into the apartment. Dead cats and a dead dog. Knee deep worth of poop all over the entire apartment. The oven was left open and a dead cat was in it. He told me it took him a week of working eight hours a day to remove the filth. He had to change his coveralls nightly due to the stench he picked up.

After you have just read some of the horrendous things I have seen, you know why I like things neat and tidy. I watch YouTube videos on how to clean more efficiently. There are great videos on how to make your own cleaning products. I love using lemons to clean along with lavender. Baking soda is a great cleanser and it doesn’t have a scent. Scrubs up stuff very well. Dawn dishwashing liquid is a favorite. A drop of it along with vinegar and water does a great job. And no, I don’t use newspaper to wash windows……. I don’t read newspapers and I find it to be more mess than it’s worth it. I do dilute Windex as it’s too strong and you don’t need it that strong. My favorite products are Dr. Bonner’s Soaps and cleaner. They have one called “Sal Suds Biodegradable Cleaners”. One tablespoon per one quart of water to clean with and it does make a lot from one container. One half of a teaspoon per gallon of water to mop the floor. Why spend money on fancy stuff that wastes money.

Well, I better go and get ready to hit the trenches of dirt and grime. If you have questions on how to clean something, send it. I like saving other folks money and help them do the dirty work. But then again, I like getting paid to do the dirty work. Nothing feels better than to revive a dirty shower and see it sparkle.

And that’s the way it is………….

[meetmyothersouls]

i had an idea for halloween- going to a scream park type thing (with scare actors) with timothée and both of you being scared and fluff basically.

This is super cute, and I've not done a whole lot of Halloween fluff for the special so I hope you enjoy!

Scare Fest

Warnings: some sexual language, graphic scare actor makeup, fake blood, graphic depictions of (fake) haunted house attractions, not proof read

"You scared?" You said as Timothee gripped the steering wheel. It was your idea to go to the Scare Fest even though it wasn’t Timothee's typical jam. He'd watch all the scary movies you wanted, but when it came to being in close physical contact with scare actors screaming in his face and jumping out of from behind hidden walls, he was a big ol' baby.

"No," Timothee said, almost defensively as the whites of his knuckles shown brightly against the black of his steering wheel. He paid for parking, which was an outrageous twenty-five dollars and the two of you headed toward the entrance. You practically pulled him inside, having already purchased tickets online you got to skip the swirling line of impatient teens waiting to gain access to the park. There was a hefty amount of security to get through before going inside, bag searches, body wanding and walk through metal detectors. Timothee rolled his eyes as the alarm went off as he walked through.

"Back out," a portly security guard demanded.

"It's probably my watch," Timothee said to himself, taking his watch off and placing it on the table. He walked through again successfully.

"Sorry about that. We've had to up security. Someone brought in a gun last weekend."

Timothee's eyes widened and he looked over at you. "A gun," he mouthed silently, before returning back to full volume. "This doesn't seem safe. Maybe we should leave and watch movies instead."

You grabbed his hands and spun yourself around, his arms were limp with an evident lack of desire to be there. "You're just being paranoid, Tim. They added security. There's no guns. We watch movies every weekend. Let's do this it'll be fun!" You pouted and and he pulled you into him.

"Fine," he said, pouting back until you gave him a quick but tender kiss to his lips. "But you owe me. I want lots of kisses and maybe a blowjob."

"I can manage that," you winked and skipped off.

Timothee ran after you, reaching and grabbing for your hand, the motion so childlike it made you giggle.

Scare Fest was like most haunt attractions you'd been to; roller coasters, food trucks and stands, the overwhelming smell of fried dough and cotton candy. Ghoulish looking girls dressed up like broken dolls or killer clowns. Demonic looking men with sharp teeth and blood soaked clothes. You absolutely loved it. Sure, they were scary, but that's what this was all about, right?

Timothee gripped your hand as a girl holding a teddy bear with doll legs and bloodied fur walked up to him. He jumped as she spoke in a sickly sweet and high pitched voice, "hey cutie, wanna play?"

"Try not to look so scared," you whispered. "That's who they come to see first!" Just as you finished your sentence a man in stilts clambered over to you.

"WHATAREYOUDOING!?" He said all too fast and in a voice that was sure to illicit nightmares.

You screamed, pulling yourself into Timothee's arms, but the man trudged past you, on his way to scare the next unsuspecting victim.

"Thought you weren't scared," Timothee teased.

You shoved his shoulder lightly, sending him a few steps ahead of you. "I wasn't expecting him! He caught me off guard. Oh-lets go there!" You pointed to a spooky looking haunted house.

Timothee arched an eyebrow. "You go in, I'll wait out here."

"Come onnnnn!" You whined, pouting again. You found the pouting annoying, but you always got what you wanted out of Timothee when you did it, so you used it in times like these. You stood on your tiptoes and whispered into his ear, "think of the blowjobs." You nipped his lobe before returning to your normal stature.

"Fine. Fine. I'll do it for the blowjobs." Timothee grabbed your hand and led you into the house. There wasn't much of a line, so you were able to go straight in. Immediately upon entering, smoke and fog machines hissed on, creating an eerie haze that covered the floor. You rounded the corner, holding Timothee's hand tightly while his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close to him. There was a spooky soundtrack playing over the speakers mounted to the ceiling. Timothee led you through a door covered in caution tape that hid a room filled with tables and waxy looking bodies cut open to show various stages of decomposition. At the end of the room stood a man, delivering a fake demon baby from an electronic woman laying on a hospital bed.

"It looks so real," you whispered.

Timothee nodded, gripping you tighter.

"It is real," came a voice in a ghostly whisper behind you.

You screamed and ran to the next room, pulling Timothee behind you.

"What was that!?"

Just as you began to calm yourself and your heart beat returned to a normal speed a stretcher rolled out in front of you. In it laid a man repeatedly screaming, "HELP ME!!"

A "doctor" stormed in from a hidden entrance wearing bright green scrubs splattered with blood. His mask hung off of his face exposing rows of sharp, vicious looking teeth. He pulled out a knife from his waistband and plunged it directly into the mans heart. The knife was retractable and all the blood spurting from his chest was fake but it looked too real to comprehend.

"They can't help you," the doctor laughed manically. "They're next!"

The two of you screamed in unison and ran through the next door which, to your relief, led outside. You stumbled as you came to a stop, laughing.

"Holy shit, that was crazy."

Timothee's face was pale and you couldn' tell if he was about to pass out or vomit.

"Whoa, baby, are you okay?" You asked him, grabbing his hand and leading him over to a bench next to a face painting stand. Timothee nodded before he leaned his head on your shoulder.

"I think I blacked out after the birth of the demon baby."

You couldn't stop your laugh from coming out. He looked so cute scared and covered with sweat.

"Come on, let's go get some pizza and you can tell me what else I owe you for torturing you tonight."

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp

[applesooyoung]

body worship with sub mingyu 😭😭 i need

A request I never knew could be requested but never knew I needed 😔

• This one just came out after the both of you went shopping

• it's like a casual weekend bonding for the 2 of you

• not like you go there every weekend to buy stuff but just window shopping/eating at a new restaurant at the food court.

• But this is the weekend when you two actually bought something for yourselves

• you bought a new pair of sneakers and a video game while your best friend on the other hand, is buying himself some clothes.

• Everything was paid and both you went your way to your house

• your best friend was so excited to try on his new clothes

• so he didn't waste a jiffy the time you parked your car in your garage and just jumped out of your car.

• "Hey, Gyu! Calm down" you chuckled as you close the door

• "Nooooo, I can't" he childishly whined and you ruffled his hair

• you two went to your room and the boy went to your walk-in closet to try his clothes on

• while you sat yourself at the edge of your bed to try your new shoes

• a few minutes later, Mingyu came out of your walk-in closet

• shit-

• "So, uhm- what do you think?

• Oh this man is trying to end you

• he looks fucking fine what the fuck

• he walked out of the closet wearing that body-fit white button-up long-sleeve with that matching black pants and a red necktie.

• You just stared at him blankly

• "Hellooo~? Y/n?" he waved his hand in front of your face

• "Oh- uh, yeah you look cool"

• he then jumped to your bed and giggled like a kid

• "I'll change later, you have the comfiest and softest bed in town"

• he just laid there and you lifted the button-up from your best friend to reveal his heavily toned abs

• you don't know what happened, your hands just said do it without the brain commanding it.

• "H-hey, what are yo-you doing-"

• "Kim Mingyu, you're so pretty"

• he turned red, it complimented his pretty tanned skin

• "Do you want me to... err- take it off?" you deliriously nodded

• he started to take it off but you stopped him before he could get his hands out of the sleeves,, the long sleeve draped prettily on his bare skin

• he was fucking perfect

• "Can I touch you, Gyu?" "Mhm"

• your hands made their way to his v-line and up to his abs while you could hear him, stopping his moans

• "Oh god, baby boy" you uttered before placing a kiss on his left upper quadrant

• "Thank you, mommy" he hummed (I am so sorry for putting a mommy kink on every fic I can't stop myself from putting amsorrryyy 😭)

• your kisses traveled up on his chest, where the kisses turned to hickies

• his moans went breathy and his length is getting visible on his pants

• "You're getting hard huh?" you smirked while he avoided your sharp eyes

• "You want me to touch you, hm?" he nodded

• you started unzipping his pants to see he wasn't wearing anything under, he probably took them out earlier before he wore the pants for you

• all that aside, he has a monster cock. A veiny 9-inch with a flushed pink tip pooling with his warm precum

• what a slut

• this is a jackpot for a sub like him, he got that dom cock but let's just normalize subby babies with big dicks

• he was sensitive too as he whimpers oh so loud with your light touches on his dick

• "Mommy, careful- AH i-its sensitive" he bit his thumb

• "Oh Gyu, mommy can't guarantee to be careful especially when you look like this for me"

• you licked off the precum from his slit and placed more kisses on his dick

• He yelled so loud you're sure at least 4 of your neighbors heard his sinful cries

• "you have a gorgeous dick too, baby boy" you smiled

• you took his hands that were grabbing the sheets and kissed his palm

• you like it how your hand is ever so slightly bigger than his

• he turned red again

• he also has a perfect shoulder, perfectly angled 90, broad shoulder blades that were accentuated by his muscular biceps and that collarbone to die for.

• "God, wouldn't be a pity if I can't have you all to myself" you left a hickey on his neck

• "I'll be yours, I promise"

• you chuckled

• "So pretty for me"

• you stopped your actions and hungrily kissed him, you wanted to touch him more but you're spoiling him too much

• you slowed down your actions and got up

• you ruffled his hair and he smiled

• "I know you bought more so how about you also try them on and show them to mommy, how's that sound hm?"

[multific]

Voicemail

Santiago Garcia x Reader

Why did it always have to be him?

Why couldn't just once you wake up at Tom's or Frankie's?

Why did you always have to wake up at Santiago's?

Last night, you went out to have some drinks with the girls. Nothing unusual for a Friday evening. But you woke up with a headache and you weren't even in your own home.

You recognized the furniture in seconds. You were at Santiago's place. You just hoped you didn't make a fool of yourself last night.

You knew the boys for a long time now, and had an equally long crush on Garcia. So, with him seeing you so drunk, wasn’t a good look for you.

You let out a loud groan.

Took you some time to finally make it out of his bedroom and bathroom.

You headed to the kitchen where you smelt breakfast and coffee.

"Morning." he said as his back was to you, he was pouring coffee into two mugs.

He turned to you as you sat by the desk, he handed you the mug before sitting down.

"Good morning. Thank you for picking me up. I shouldn't have bothered you."

"No bother, really. Do you-Do you remember what happened?" he asked as he took a sip from his coffee.

"No. I didn't embarrass myself, did I? Did I puke in your car or something?"

"No. None of that." he smiled, you did the same before making a face.

You stood up and grabbed some sugar.

"Sorry, I forgot you drink it with sugar."

"It's okay, I should just leave soon, don't want to ruin your Saturday more than it is." there was silence as you ate the food and finished your coffee. He spoke up again.

"Do you really not remember a thing?"

"Sorry, I was very drunk. I'll finish this and leave."

And you did. But you did notice just how he behaved while watching you move around in the kitchen and soon, you left.

“Thank you again for picking me up. Have a nice weekend.” you said as you left. He closed the door behind you.

You got a taxi.

You were in such a hurry due to the fact that you never told Santiago how you feel about him, yet the others knew. You felt comfortable around him, that wasn’t the issue, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself then you already probably did last night so, it was easier to leave. 

You tried to get closer to him, hoping to confess your feelings but he was always with other women. You had to move on, or this will drive you insane.

You got your phone out, not surprisingly your last contact was Santiago but the name on your phone made you remember the night before.

---

Shot after shot, using cocktails as chaser. You were proud to be able to drink so much without vomiting, but this time, you might have took it too far. 

You had way too many drinks, you were drunk and in need of the bathroom.

You entered the cubicle when your phone fell out your purse. As you picked it up a name flashed in your mind, so you called.

Santiago didn't pick up. So, you did what every drunk person would, you left a voicemail. 

"Santi." you giggled. "I just wanted to hear your voice.” you let out a sigh. “I'm so pathetically in love with you. Every time we meet, I cannot think straight. Every time the boys tease me about you I just get so angry and jealous because I know you wouldn't choose me. I'm not like the girls you pick up but it's okay. I love you so I stay away. I love everything about you. Your hair, your skin, your eyes, your nose and your lips. You have such pretty lips. I always long to kiss you." you let out another sigh. “I wish you were here, wearing that black shirt, leaving to two top buttons undone just to tease the women, and me. I always want to run my finger down your skin. You are teasing me, and you don’t even know it.”

There was a knock on the door so you had to quickly put the phone down.

"Y/N!" it was your also very drunk friend. "Are you talking to your boyfriend?"

"Oh." is all you said before you ended the call.

---

“SHIT!" you yelled so loud the driver got scared. "Sorry. Can you just drive me back please? I left my... purse? Yeah, purse!"

The driver hesitantly turned around and drove you back to Santiago's. You paid him before running back to his front door.

As you knocked, you realized you didn't have a plan. You didn't know what you wanted to say.

"Y/N?" he soon opened the door, rather shocked to see you.

"Hi again, sorry. I think I left something here." he let you in as you rushed to the room you stayed the night.

You sat down on the bed. You needed a plan. Something to say or delete the message. But you had a feeling he listened to it already. Which is why he asked you those questions this morning.

You put your face into your hands and groaned.

You got out of the room and saw him sitting on the couch.

"Can you just... forget that I called?"

"Did you mean it?" he turned to look at you, stood up from the couch and slowly walked over to you, trapping you in between himself and the wall. "Did you mean any of what you said on that voicemail?"

You looked into his eyes, you couldn't read him.

"I-I-" now or never. You cannot lie to yourself anymore. "I meant it. I do love you. B-But I know you don't feel the same! It's okay really. I get it, I'm not your type, not even close to it." He slowly leaned down, getting closer. You put your head on the wall, then stopped him with your hand on his mouth. "What are you doing?"

"You said you long to kiss me. And I have been longing to kiss you." upon hearing that you dropped your hand and his soft lips connected with yours, he pulled you off the wall by your waist.

It was a slow and sensual kiss, something to turn you on for a night of fun.

Was he playing with you?

He soon pulled back, catching his breath before leaning in once more. You pulled back a bit which made him do the same.

"Are mocking me?" you asked, slowly getting angry.

"No! No, I'm not mocking you, Y/N. I'm only fulfilling the dream I had from day one. I liked you for so long. the boys always teased me about you. Wanting me to confess, but you were... too pure, too perfect for a killer like me."

You realized both of you were stupid.

"I'm not your type. You prefer the petite ladies, high heels, long hair, big boobs..."

"You are perfection. You are a real woman compared to them. They meant nothing, you are everything. I love you just like you love me."

You needed a moment to fully process what he just said. But apparently he took your silence and kissed you once again. You kissed him back, although your mind was somewhere else, which he obviously noticed because he pulled back, let out a groan as he grabbed your chin, lifting it up until you looked into his eyes finally.

"Focus on me. I can hear you thinking, there is no need to overcomplicate things. We will go on a date for lunch, you spend the weekend here and you can agree to be my girl whenever you are ready." he was confident, that's for sure. Not like you minded really, you knew how he was for a long time, so it didn't really surprise you.

What did surprise you is that he was in love with you. You were sure he didn't like you more than a friend and yet here he was, begging you to go back to him and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

"Lunch sounds great." you ended up saying with a small smile as he was still holding your chin, he pulled you close again.

Maybe leaving that voice message wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to you. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, but you could have done without the constant tease of your friends that you confessed while drunk via a message.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​​ @paola-carter​​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Take a Chance | college!au | (p.2)

Peter Parker x reader

Part one

Masterlist

Summary: You have a routine. It may seem boring to some, but you like it. Until, some honey-eyed boy comes along to mess it all up, but maybe you like him too. Maybe.

Word count: ~4.2k

Warnings: Reader is referred to by she/her pronouns. Some second-hand embarrassment lol

A/N: Thank you for the likes on my first chapter. I hope you guys like this one too. Let me know if there are any mistakes, and thanks for reading!

You finally flip through the last page, just about to put your things away and make your way back to your dorm when you see a shadow lay across the table. You look up to see a familiar smile. 

“Do you ever read anything besides The Great Gatsby?” Peter asks with a teasing grin. 

You tense at his words. It was hard enough to focus with him away, but now that he’s standing in front of you? There’s no chance as you settle back into your seat. “Well, I would’ve finished reading this a lot faster if your handwriting wasn’t so illegible,” you quip back with a smile just as wide.

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as he apologizes. “I completely forgot I even did that. But I really liked a lot of what you wrote. Honestly, that’s the most I’ve really paid attention to an assigned reading before.”

You wave him off. “Oh, it’s no problem. You seem to get the themes of this book. Better than I get them apparently,” you grumble.

He frowns at your response. “But your thoughts in the book made a lot of sense.”

You sigh, “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t all there when doing the discussion. Just an off day.” You quickly decide against telling him what led to you feeling so out of it.

Peter starts talking more about the book and your ideas he liked. He stands above you with a backpack on and tray in his hands. You don’t want to make him stand the whole time so you motion towards the seat across from you, and he sits down without missing a word. You assume he’s trying to help you out with the discussion questions, or just trying to distract you from it. 

Your conversation naturally shifts to getting to know each other, and your body relaxes a bit more. He’s a biology major, which seems pretty fitting. You learn about his friends back home, Ned and MJ. And about his love for Star Wars and everything nerdy. He’s even got a knowledge bowl competition this weekend — you didn’t even know your college had one of those. 

He nearly shoves his dinner into his mouth while listening intently to you talk about your interests and major, seeming much more focused than he’s ever been in class. 

You appreciate his focus, but how can someone eat so much in such a short amount of time? It seemed he grabbed two of everything in the dining hall. It is honestly impressive. As the conversation continues, you feel more comfortable talking to him, even ending up stealing a couple of his fries off his tray while talking — he tries protesting, but his mouth is too full of burgers. By the time he’s finished eating, you’ve put away your food, ready to head back to your room. You enjoy talking with him, but you already stayed here longer than you had planned.

He puts his stuff away as well, walking back to you. “Hey, I was thinking I could walk you back to your dorm since it’s getting kinda late.”

You look out of the dining hall’s windows quirking an eyebrow. “Peter, the sun hasn’t even gone down yet.”

“Yeah…well, I know that. But it’ll be going down soon,” he says with a sheepish smile. You notice his fingers playing with the edge of his sleeves again, the threads wearing a bit from the repeated stress.

“I wouldn’t mind having someone to walk back with. Though I hope it’s not too out of the way for you. I’m in Anderson Hall.”

“Oh no, it’s okay. I’m in Crawford so it’s not a bad walk. Not that I was really worried about that.”

You smile, happy your day has gotten better. You two begin walking across campus while talking about random things. He tells you a story about somehow accidentally locking himself out of his window while on the fire escape, just in his boxers. You laugh so hard you have to walk a bit slower to catch your breath.

“How does that even happen, Peter? You probably scarred some poor grandma walking by,” you laugh out.

He can’t stop a splitting smile from spreading across his face, chuckling along with you. “Hey, our windows would get stuck sometimes, and that was just my unlucky time.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What were you even doing on the fire escape in your underwear in the first place?” You ask, squinting your eyes at him.

He lets out a few breathless laughs, trying to find the words. “Well, that’s a whole different story. For another time.”

“What! You can’t just leave me hanging,” you say. When he shakes his head, mouth zipped shut, you declare, “I’ll get it out of you one day, Peter.”

In your slowed walk, you notice both of your laugh-filled breaths forming in the chilling air. The sun has started disappearing behind the horizon now, creating a spotlight of warm colors across the sky. You let your eyes unfocus, making them blend together in a beautiful painting.

The trees match the sunset, the leaves just as fiery and beautiful as before. How can something as sad as the death of a tree’s leaves dying look so pretty? Peaceful even.

Peter notices you staring at the colorful leaves and stops walking. He asks, “Are you cold at all?”

“No, not really.”

“Good.”

He takes off his backpack to dig through it. You allow yourself a couple minutes to wait a bit, knowing how long it will take him to stop searching given his inability to find things quickly in his bottomless bag. He eventually pulls out a nice film camera to your surprise.

He points it at the trees, shifting around to get different angles of them. He tries some close-up photos and others that seem to play with the sunlight. “I can send them to you after I get them developed. I think they’re going to look really cool.”

You agree to his idea, knowing the pictures would look better than ones you could take on your phone. Maybe the quality would be better with his camera. Maybe, though, his photos would hold better memories.

He looks back to you, seeming to take in your whole form. “Here, stand in front of the trees,” he says.

“Oh, no that’s okay. I could take a picture of you though,” you suggest with warm cheeks. “The colors compliment your hair well.”

“C’mon. Just one?” he asks, holding up one finger and a convincing smile. “You don’t even need to look at the photo if you don’t want to. I can keep it.”

You pause, unsure of what he means. Does he just want to keep a picture of you with him? You eventually agree, trying to clear those confusing thoughts from your head. You’re letting him take a photo of you just to stop his nagging. Right.

You stand in front of the trees, apprehensive in your movements. Does he want you to pose? Your hands fidget with the hem of your coat, your internal rambling picking up speed — all of which are interrupted by a bird chirping above you. You look up to see a cardinal hopping from branch to branch. Its feathers ruffle against the leaves, making a beautiful sunset of colors wave back and forth. It points its eyes towards you, tilting its head in jerky movements. It gives a last chirp before flying off to another tree.

You hear a couple clicks and look back at Peter. He’s still taking pictures of you. “Hey, you said only one picture!” you tell him.

“Would you believe me if I said it does that because I’ve dropped it a few too many times?” You cross your arms, shaking your head at him. “Well, then I’ll come clean and say I couldn’t help myself. I took some really beautiful pictures.”

You think your cheeks have to match the cardinal by now and come back towards him. “Can we actually start walking to the dorm now?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me just put this away.” You start walking ahead, taking in the rolling clouds as a gust of wind passes. It’s just loud enough in your ears that you don’t hear Peter take one last picture of you.

You catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye when he catches back up. There’s a silence hanging in the air between you two as you approach your dorm, though it surprisingly doesn’t feel awkward. When you reach the door, he starts stumbling over his words again, finally saying, “Y’know, I actually have a lot of good digital pictures too. I could send them to you if you want.”

You look at him fully this time, and you attempt to stop the grin trying to spread across your face. “Are you asking for my number?”

“Oh, well, I mean…I didn’t mean it that way. I just thought I could also ask you my millions of questions about The Great Gatsby since you seem-”

“Peter, I’m just kidding. Here, put your number into my phone.” You open up the contacts in your phone, handing it over to him. He lets out a sigh of relief, quickly typing his number and reading over it again to make sure it was right.

“Thank you for walking me back. Hope your treacherous walk home is safe. It’s nearly dark out, in 45 minutes,” you joke. He gives a small laugh. “See you in class Tuesday?” You ask, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Usually, he’s all over the place, eyes darting every which way. But his gaze is on you, and you find it hard to look straight at him. Were they always so warm, like glazed honey?

“Uh yeah, s’no problem at all. I’ll see you Tuesday,” he says with a short nod. He gives a small wave and turns around towards his dorm as you enter the building. 

You let out a long breath, the only noise in the hallway besides your shoes thudding against the floor. Did that really happen? This whole night has been so…unusual.

Lilly isn’t back in the room yet, but you’re not that surprised since you didn’t spend that much time out eating dinner. You almost wish you had been out longer, partly because then Lilly would be back and you could get back into the swing of things…and partly because you could’ve stayed and talked to Peter longer for a change of scenery. What is going on with you?

You pull up your phone while also putting Netflix on your laptop. You choose a show you’ve seen plenty of times just to have on in the background. The characters’ voices blend into the back of your mind when you open the contacts app. Your thumb hovers over Peter’s name, almost wanting to already talk to him again.

Before that thought gets too far, your door opens and Lilly walks in, setting her backpack down with a sigh. You feel your heart quiet down a little and ask, “Hey, how’d your group project go?” 

“Good, I guess. She’s pretty cool, so we ended up not being super productive…” she says with a sheepish smile. “It was fun though. What’d you get up to tonight?”

“Oh,” you start to say. You chew on the inside of your mouth, debating telling her about Peter. You don’t want to make a big deal out of anything, especially if he’s not. “Just went to the dining, saw a classmate from English and we talked about our assigned reading for a bit. Nothing special.”

She nods, a bit distracted as she’s unpacking her backpack. “That sounds good…hey, I don’t feel like doing any more homework, or thinking, tonight. Wanna watch a movie?”

You smile, happy to have your evening back on the rails. You go over and settle next to her, your phone long forgotten. You fire up a movie with a content sigh.

Over the weekend, you work through assignment through presentation through essay, and on to the next thing. Usually, this would be start and finish, done and done. But a certain smart, yet persistently lovely boy keeps worming his way into your head. He even works his influence into the outline for your essay, thinking back to your conversation with him as you plot out your topic points.

It gets bad enough that you just watch the cursor blinking on the sparse page document, your mind unable to keep working. Though you don’t really need the help, just tired from writing, it certainly couldn’t hurt to text Peter to ask him about the essay…maybe it’ll inspire something.

You pull up his contact again, this time finding the courage to type out a message a bit easier. “Hey, Peter! Hope your competition going well :) I was hoping to talk about your ideas for the essay”

You send it off, reading over it and over again. You decide to send another text quick in case he didn’t know it was you: “And maybe I can give you ideas too, if you tell me how you ended up on the fire escape ;)”

You turn back to your computer, needing something to distract yourself from the neves of texting him for the first time. Not expecting a reply for a while since he’s at that knowledge bowl, you turn towards Lilly who’s working on her own classes. It looks like she’s sketching a landscape scene. Man, she’s good at that stuff.

You’re about to unashamedly interrupt her for a break when your phone buzzes. It’s Peter. Of course it’s him, you just texted him a couple of minutes ago. But still, you somehow weren’t expecting it so quickly.

“Seems a bit bold to ask for *my* ideas and then offer your own in exchange for top-secret information lol”

Another text: “I have a little bit of time before I have to go back on stage for the next game, but here’s a pic of some notes!”

You’re taken aback a little that he’s already written up notes for this essay given his busy weekend. You can’t help but raise your eyebrows a bit when the picture comes through. It wasn’t a screenshot of a Word doc…it was handwritten notes that appear to be on the back of a piece of paper. Did he just scribble that out right now? In between competitions just because you asked? You hadn’t even asked a specific question.

You shake your head as a small smile reaches your face. Some of the points were ones you two talked about (and already incorporated into the outline), but others were pretty helpful. There were some that you couldn’t make out between the strange lighting and illegible handwriting, which you decide to tell him.

“I can’t tell if I’d be more impressed if you just wrote that out or if that’s a picture of a very advanced toddler’s notes”

He responds almost immediately. “Ha ha very funny. You’re the one that asked for my help…I can take my beautiful calligraphy and leave, where it will be appreciated :P”

Though he types like a grandpa, you’re thankful for the emoji, knowing he’s just teasing. “Like a preschool? Jk thank you for the ideas! How’s the competition going?”

You two go back and forth. You’re glad he gave you some ideas to further your essay, but your laptop hasn’t been touched in a while with your face and giggles glued to your phone.

He describes the knowledge bowl (in excruciating detail), but he seems to be loving it. Their team keeps winning against others, on track to win the whole competition. He asks about your plans and week. You tell him about Lilly, how her birthday is coming up, and how artistically talented she is. You send your Bob Ross inspired painting to him. His response is much nicer than Lilly’s was, though you wonder how much that’s because he just doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. 

He soon has to go as his team is going back on stage soon. You wish him luck and let out a sigh as you turn back to your taunting document waiting to be written, a little disappointed it hadn’t completed itself in the meantime... So much for getting Peter out of your head.

As Tuesday comes around, for once, you find yourself excited for “English Literature & Composition.” There seems to be a pattern of Peter leaving little things at your desk. But as you enter the classroom and look at your seat, you notice someone sitting there.

You recognize him as a guy that usually sits with the other athletes in the dining hall, his bright blond hair sticking out in the crowds. You think you remember him when they announced the school’s swim team winning, but honestly, they all kind of look similar.

You walk over there, trying to peak at the space to see if Peter’s left you anything just in case. But you don’t see him in his regular spot. You guess he’s back to his usual tardiness. You sit near the guy, and there’s nothing on the desk (not even a notebook, you notice).

You try not to pay too much attention to the way your shoulders slump or the mild frown on your face, instead returning to your trusty routine. As the professor begins lecturing on the societal implications of capitalism as laid out in The Great Gatsby, you start your regular margin doodles.

Before you can sketch some beautiful masterpiece on the college-ruled lines, you hear a voice whisper, “Hey, so I haven’t actually read the book. How likely is it that I could just pay half attention in class and half-ass the essay?”

 You turn towards the man that asked you the question. He’s reclined back into the uncomfortable plastic chair, chewing on a piece of gum with loud smacks. He looks to you with raised eyebrows and a half-smile, clearly not too interested in an actual answer. What is it about you that brings disruptive boys your way?  

“Honestly? I think you could BS it enough to not fail, but not much better than that. I’ve heard she grades these essays pretty hard.”

He scoffs, though you’re not sure if it’s at the professor’s grading or at your low expectations of his unparalleled ability to scrape his way through class. “Okay, fine. Could you give me a quick play-by-play of what happens in this book then?” he asks.

You laugh, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “Um, we’re in the middle of class. Maybe later? But there is also Google that might help you,” you tell him, hoping that’d get you out of this conversation.

“But I don’t know what her lecture’s even about. Just give me a quick explanation so I can get through this class and that’s it.”

He’d probably understand the lecture if he had at least looked it up on Sparknotes by now…You sigh, resigning yourself to flipping through your notebook to find the summary notes you wrote after finishing the whole book. You slide it over to him with a tight-lipped smile and bring your attention back to the professor.

As if right on cue, the classroom doors open and in walks Peter, holding something rectangular in his hands. He doesn’t look your way at all, instead giving a small nod to the teacher as he quietly slides into his regular spot.

A gasp next to you takes your focus away from Peter, something you’re not sure if you’re grateful for or not. The athlete traces his finger across the pages as he reads your notes. “Bro, Daisy did what? And she’s not even gonna take the fall for it? That’s wild,” he says with a level of awe that makes you laugh.

He looks at you with a puzzled expression. You answer his unspoken question before he can ask, whispering, “Yeah, this book has some interesting plot twists. It might be a bit late to read it all before the essay this Thursday, but maybe you could finish it after. The bookstore lets you keep it until the end of the semester.”

He slowly nods, looking between you and the paper. “Uh yeah, I’m probably not gonna read this shit. The story seems fine, especially the murder part’s insane. Thanks for the notes though.”

His brutal honesty makes you laugh again. You cover your mouth to quiet your voice. He flashes you a smile that would probably be more charming if he wasn’t such a jock. You take your notebook back, turning away from him to finally focus on class.

However, a second later, your eyes drift to Peter. Your heart jumps a little to find him already staring at you, or was it at the guy next to you? You’re not sure, but you offer him a smile and small wave. He just returns it with a nod as short and impersonal as the one he gave the professor before turning back towards the front of the classroom.

You frown at the back of his head — perhaps if you squint hard enough, you might be able to hear what’s going on in his mind. Once again, you find Peter distracting you as your thoughts wander.

You look back to him as soon as your professor wraps up class, but he’s already put away his things and up out of his seat. By the time you close your notebook, he’s standing right next to your desk. If he’s aware of the shocked look on your face, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his mouth presses tight before mumbling, “Here, thought you might like this.”

You look down at the thing he places on the desk before you. It’s a postcard that says “Wish You Were Here!” in front of a watercolor painting of a forest. You turn it around in your hands with furrowed eyebrows, not quite sure what he means by this. 

You’re about to ask him what this is about when you see it. The trees scatter across the postcard in a very familiar way — it’s nearly identical to the reference video painting you used while following along to Bob Ross. It looks like a much nicer version of your painting that you sent a picture to him… He remembered the crappy painting you spent just a couple minutes texting about and bought a postcard because it made him think of you.

Peter, while all of these thoughts were running through your head, starts fidgeting and looks like he’s ready to burst. He doesn’t notice the growing smile on your face. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. It just looked so much like your cool painting so I thought I’d bring you back something from the competition,” he says, his words beginning to tumble out of his mouth. “It was only 99 cents so it really wasn’t much. I’m sorry, I could’ve bought you something more, or maybe I can just buy your drinks at the campus cafe for the rest of the semester…”

You’re ready to put him out of his misery and tell him that you love it when a snort beside you interrupts.

“Bro, you gotta chill. Who cares if she likes it or not? She was staring at the back of your head the whole class as soon as you came in,” the jock next to you says before grabbing his empty backpack and heading out of the classroom. He claps Peter on the back as he passes, making him stumble a bit closer to your desk.

Your mouth opens and closes, your face growing hotter as every excruciatingly slow second goes by. Peter tries hiding a smile against his shoulder, looking away from you. You’re glad he’s letting you off the hook a little bit, but he pushes that hook back in when he looks right in your eyes with his dumb grin and says, “Yeah?” with a cocked eyebrow.

You turn back to packing your things away to avoid him, but you can feel his gaze against your skin. You keep your voice steady and tell him, “I was going to say you’re lucky that I like the postcard so that you don’t have to buy me any drinks, but I take that back. You’re buying every one of my drinks for a week to make up for this whole conversation.” You still feel the heat on your cheeks, but you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

He ducks his head for a moment and says, “It’s a deal then. As long as I can start buying you drinks today, on our way to the library together?”

You look back to him, afraid you’ll be the one stumbling over your words so you just ask, “Right now?” He nods, bringing his gaze back to you, and you’re not sure there’s anyone else in the room anymore. The moment breaks as your professor clears her throat, making you pack up your things and walk out of the classroom with sheepish smiles.

You two make your way across campus, your steps feeling slow and in sync with his, and unknowingly, he’s begun unraveling your carefully crafted routine one thread at a time. Maybe you could get used to it, and used to his lopsided grin that makes it seem okay.

[prodagustd]

Oh my god can we please hear more about them at the lake I'd love to know more about yoongi and y/n at the beginning phrases!

aaa thank you for requesting this, it made me soooo happy!!!!!!! Maybe this needed a lil bit of editing but jdhtjj

title: the lake

pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader

series: so it goes

timeline: before so it goes.

words: 1.4k

Yoongi observed you closing your apartment door and walking towards his car while you put the keys back on your bag. The wind attacked your baby blue dress and that funny yellow hat you were wearing, but you paid it no mind. 

You opened the door and got in his car, kissed him on the cheek and said hi. “Hey.” He said, noticing a small trace of sunscreen on the corner of your nose, he rubbed the spot with his thumb to wipe it away, inevitably making you blush.  “You had sunscreen.” 

“Oh, I was in a rush.” You giggled. “Are you using sunscreen?”

“I never do.” 

“Yoongi… You can’t not wear sunscreen.” You scolded him and started looking for something in your bag, of course you brought the bottle of sunscreen with you. “Here!” You put some on the palm of your hand and without further notice you spread the product on his cheeks with two of your fingers. Yoongi froze in his seat, he watched you, focused on covering every inch of his face, he kept silent as you removed the hair from his face, feeling your fingers on his forehead and then on his chin. “Don’t forget your neck.” You sang as you spread the rest of the product on his neck, Yoongi felt like he was not breathing at all, maybe he was purple already. 

“Thank you.” He uttered, avoiding your gaze to start the car. 

“You’ll need more than that if we’re going to swim.” You said as you buckled the safety belt. 

“Swim?” He repeated. 

“Swim! We’re going to the lake, Yoongi, we’re going to swim.” 

“That wasn’t exactly my plan.” 

“Yeah? What was it, then?”

“I brought strawberries, my plan was to eat strawberries on the deck.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, at the end of the day you’ll end up swimming, I assure you.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything else about it during the whole ride, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to convince him to dip in the water, no matter how much you try. 

Just last week Yoongi had talked about the campground where he used to go with his friends during summer years ago. He mentioned that he wanted to go again but Hoseok didn’t like bugs and Namjoon was always busy, he never thought you would offer to go with him. 

“Aren’t you going to be bored?” He had asked you. 

“No if you’re going to be there.” You had said. 

When you arrived you quickly noticed that the place was desolate, it wasn’t strange since it was a weekday, most people used to visit it on weekends. You walked beside Yoongi looking for a table close to the lake, stepping on rocks and fallen nuts from the large trees that surrounded the place. It was a hot day, but the trees provided enough shade to forget about it for a second. 

Once you were sitting at one of the wooden tables, Yoongi took out a tupperware full of sandwiches that he had made. It was the deal you made, he had to bring the lunch and you the dessert, which was a plump cake with chocolate chips.

“Your brother followed me on Instagram.” He casually mentioned with his mouth full of food.

“My brother?” You laughed nervously. “Didn’t he follow you before?”

“No, he just did. He liked some of my pictures too.” 

“Mmm, how do you know he was my brother?” You questioned, trying not to blush. 

“You follow him and he looks like you. He has a picture with you.”

You made a mental note to send a text to your brother cursing him for exposing you like that.

“Well, he’s a bit nosy.” You tried to dismiss it, but a cocky smirk appeared on Yoongi’s face. 

“Mhm… Did you tell him about me?” He teased you, hitting your knee with his foot under the table. 

Yes, you told your brother about Yoongi. You told him that you had met a guy who was kinda famous, that you kissed him and that he took you to a few dates. He demanded to see a photo of him and you sent him a screenshot of Yoongi’s instagram, you didn’t think that he would follow him. 

“You are nosy too.” You just replied, not willing to tell the truth. Yoongi didn’t insist though, and you secretly thanked him for that. 

When you finished eating you began to get closer to the deck of the lake, he was cleaning the table and saving the things on his car. He grabbed a bag full of strawberries and followed you from behind. 

Yoongi watched you taking your shoes off and dipping your feet in the water. You were looking at your reflection when he joined you. 

“So you liked camping when you were young.” You pointed out like you were listing things about him. 

“When I was young?” He scoffed. “I am young.”

“Younger.” You corrected yourself.

“Younger… That doesn’t sound any better.”

“Yoongi…” You whined 

“You make it sound like I am old, you’re only Jungkook's age.” 

“Yes, I am. I don’t know if I told you this, I was born on the thirtieth of September. Jungkook was born on the first day of September and I was born on the last. We are almost like twins.” Yoongi sometimes was amazed by how quickly you changed the subject of a conversation, but he seemed to enjoy it. 

“Twins?” Yoongi laughed. 

“Yes, you’d be surprised, we think alike, but not quite.”

“That’s a contradiction.”

“It’s not. We are the same but Jungkook is different. Like he is more free, he is not used to holding things back like I do.”

You kept silent after saying that, the only sound that Yoongi could hear was your feet moving in the water and the crickets in the distance. There was a slight wind that moved your hair in his direction, reminding him of the smell of your shampoo.

“Do you hold things back?” He asked, curious. 

“Mmm, yes. But lately I’m trying not to.” You confessed, taking the strawberry bag from his hands and opening it. You grabbed one and held it out in front of his face, inviting him to eat it. He bit half of it, leaving the other half for you.

“And how do you do that?” He said while chewing the fruit. 

“It’s simple, but difficult.” You explained “If I get the urge to say or do something, instead of doubting, I just simply do it.”

“That does sound difficult. I should try it.” He said, holding another strawberry in front of your face and making you bite it now. You, like him, left the other half for him. 

“You should!” You encouraged him “Let’s see, tell me something you wanted to say but you doubt it so much that you ended up not saying it.”

“Mmm… Like today?”

“Not necessarily today, maybe last week or last year.” 

“I have one from today.” He smirked.

“I want to hear it!�� 

“Mmmm..” He hesitated. “I wanted to say this when you got in the car, you kissed my cheek.”

“Did I?” You asked, grabbing another strawberry, but you didn’t let him bite it until he finished talking.

“Yeah, I was expecting another kind of kiss.” He confessed, biting the strawberry “But you never kiss me first.”

“That must be exhausting.” You pouted, mocking him. 

“It is.” He insisted, “You always wait for me to do it, but you don’t have to. You can do it whenever you want.”

Yes, you always waited for him to kiss you first. You were terrified of doing it and realizing it wasn’t the right time or maybe he didn’t want to kiss you when you wanted to. You wouldn’t tell him that but you didn’t think he would notice. 

“Those are dangerous words.” You warned him, but he just laughed, he didn’t care if they were. You moved closer to him and put your warm hand on his neck, staring at him straight into his eyes. “I will kiss you, but only if you get in the water with me.”

Yoongi shook his head “You don’t even have a swimsuit.” 

“I brought my bikini.” You said, looking at him through your eyelashes “Under my dress.” 

He gulped. 

He could see in your face that you did not mean to tease him, you were only pointing out that you were prepared to get into the lake, but he could feel how red his face had become. What was wrong with him? The simple thought of you in a bikini was making his hands sweat. 

The idea of swimming in the lake didn’t sound so bad anymore. 

“Okay…” He said, trying to sound collected. “But kiss me first.” 

You nodded, leaning to press your lips against his. He sighed, feeling relieved.