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novaursa · 1 day ago

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A Lion's Leap (unplanned, unbroken)

- Summary: The king announces the betrothal of his youngest daughter, you, to Tyland Lannister. But even the Lannister Lord is taken off guard, as there has been some miscommunication regarding the proposal.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Previous part: flight of fancy

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @misspendragonsworld

The battle over Rook’s Rest was supposed to be a decisive, calculated move by Aemond and Aegon, a show of strength to remind the Black faction who truly held power in the skies. But “decisive” and “calculated” went out the window the moment young Daemon and Alyssa joined the fray.

As Viseron and Grey Ghost appeared in the sky, Rhaenys, locked in a furious dance with Aemond and Aegon, spotted her cousins, racing forward as if this were some friendly game. Rhaenys’ lips twisted into a smirk; they had inherited the Targaryen penchant for dramatics, that much was clear.

“Uncle Aemond!” Daemon’s voice echoed through the sky, far too cheerful for the middle of a dragon battle. “Having fun, are we?”

Aemond scowled, tightening his grip on Vhagar’s reins. “You two again?” he shouted back, his voice strained with a mix of irritation and surprise. “Have you nothing better to do than interfere in matters beyond you?”

Alyssa cackled from atop Grey Ghost. “We’re just here to help Rhaenys, Uncle. Thought you could use a little… family support.”

Rhaenys, barely suppressing a laugh, swooped down on Meleys and called out to her young relatives. “Now don’t do anything reckless,” she teased, though her grin betrayed her amusement. “Or do, and give Aemond something to complain about.”

Aegon, astride his golden dragon Sunfyre, had been watching the unfolding chaos with mounting disbelief. As Viseron darted under Vhagar’s massive wings, narrowly avoiding a bite, he let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, this is rich! Aemond, you’re being swarmed by Lannisters!”

Aemond shot his brother a withering glare. “Silence, Aegon,” he growled, struggling to keep Vhagar under control as Viseron swooped up and circled, taunting them with graceful, nimble maneuvers. “This is hardly the time for your amusement.”

“Oh, but it is,” Aegon drawled, grinning as he watched his nephew zip around them. “They’ve made a mockery of you once already; might as well make it twice.”

Aemond’s temper flared as Daemon and Alyssa moved in unison, Grey Ghost darting in to distract Vhagar while Viseron took another run at Sunfyre. Alyssa called out, her voice carrying over the battlefield, “What’s the matter, Uncle? Vhagar getting tired?”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, his voice a snarl. “Enough of this nonsense! Vhagar, show them their place!”

But Viseron and Grey Ghost darted apart just as Vhagar made a powerful dive, her bulk and speed propelling her toward what she thought was an easy target. Instead, she found herself colliding with nothing but open air as the smaller dragons slipped past her grasp, leaving her plummeting toward the ground.

Aegon, who had been thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, burst into laughter as Vhagar crashed unceremoniously into the ground below, dust and rocks flying. “Oh, well done, nephew!” he called to Daemon. “A fine trick!”

Aemond, however, was less than amused. Struggling to right himself as Vhagar recovered, he shot a glare at Aegon. “Are you enjoying this?”

“More than you’ll ever know, brother,” Aegon chuckled, patting Sunfyre’s neck. “Not often I get to see you humbled.”

Meanwhile, Rhaenys seized the opportunity. With a nod of thanks to Daemon and Alyssa, she guided Meleys in a sharp ascent, spiraling up and away from the battlefield. She caught Alyssa’s eye and winked. “Good work, children. I’ll be sure to remember this.”

Alyssa waved back with a grin. “Anytime, Rhaenys! We’re just here to keep things… lively.”

As Rhaenys disappeared into the clouds with Meleys, Aemond seethed, his pride bruised. “You fools,” he hissed, aiming his next attack squarely at his nephews. “I’ve had enough of your insolence!”

Daemon, undaunted, nudged Viseron closer, flashing his uncle a cocky smile. “Oh, come now, Uncle. You’re just upset because we’re faster.”

“Faster?” Aemond spat, his eye blazing with fury. “Do you think speed matters against Vhagar?”

Alyssa piped up, clearly enjoying every second of Aemond’s frustration. “It seems to matter quite a lot, actually.”

Aegon, his face stretched in a grin of pure amusement, waved to his nephews as he steered Sunfyre higher. “Well, I’ve had enough entertainment for one day. Aemond, I’ll leave you to handle your ‘guests’… unless they take you down again!”

With a final cackle, Aegon turned and left, leaving Aemond alone with his meddlesome relatives. Young Daemon and Alyssa exchanged a triumphant look before giving Aemond a mock salute.

“See you next time, Uncle!” Daemon called out, urging Viseron higher.

Alyssa blew Aemond a kiss from atop Grey Ghost. “Try not to be so grumpy next time, Uncle Aemond! It’s not a good look on you.”

With that, the two younger dragons soared back toward the Westerlands, leaving a very battered, very furious Aemond on Vhagar, smoldering in the ruins of Rook’s Rest.

And as Aegon circled back to observe the aftermath from above, he let out one last bark of laughter. “Perhaps next time, brother, you’ll learn to keep up with the family!”

In the grand hall of Casterly Rock, Tyland Lannister sat on the high seat, looking every bit the part of a patient lord holding court—though he would have preferred to be doing anything else. As the younger twin, Tyland was far more accustomed to letting Jason handle the endless stream of minor grievances from vassals, merchants, and local farmers. But with Jason away at Harrenhal alongside Prince Daemon, Tyland found himself reluctantly taking up the role.

To his left, you sat with a serene smile, now visibly pregnant and reclining with all the ease of a princess overseeing her kingdom. Every so often, you would shoot him a look of encouragement, and it was only with your calm presence beside him that Tyland managed to keep his nerves in check.

The first petitioner was a merchant from Lannisport, bowing deeply before launching into his grievance.

“My lord, it’s about the tariffs on spices. They’re higher than last season, and it’s driving away the traders from Essos. They’re going to... to the Tyrells!” he sputtered, clearly horrified at the thought.

Tyland, forcing a diplomatic smile, cleared his throat. “Well, we can’t very well have that, now can we? Though I must remind you that even the Tyrells don’t control dragons.” He gave a quick side-glance to you, as if hoping your dragon-backed presence would reassure the man.

The merchant looked between the two of you, his expression shifting to one of hesitant awe. “Oh, yes, of course, my lord. Dragons. I hadn’t... considered that, naturally. Perhaps I should look into... uh, new imports.”

You gave Tyland a sly smile and leaned over to whisper, “You’re doing well, my lord.”

Tyland managed a weak smile back. “Yes, because spice tariffs are absolutely within my comfort zone,” he muttered.

The next petitioner approached—a plump farmer clutching his hat nervously, his clothes speckled with straw and mud. He shifted uncomfortably before finally speaking.

“Begging your pardon, m’lord,” the farmer began, casting a wary look at you. “But it’s about the sheep. They’ve... been disappearing.”

Tyland raised an eyebrow. “Disappearing? You mean to say someone’s stealing them?”

The farmer shuffled, his face turning a bit red. “Er... not exactly, m’lord. More like they’re... flying away.”

The hall fell silent, and Tyland’s brow creased in confusion. “Flying…?”

The farmer nodded vigorously. “It’s the dragons, m’lord! They’ve been... swooping in from above, taking the sheep right from the fields.”

You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Tyland’s face turned an impressive shade of red as he did his best to maintain composure.

“Ah. Yes.” Tyland coughed awkwardly, casting a quick glance at you. “Well, rest assured, we’ll look into… dragon sheep control. Perhaps, uh, perhaps a fence of some sort? Or… more sturdy barn roofs?”

The farmer scratched his head, clearly unimpressed by the suggestion. “A fence, m’lord? Against dragons?”

You leaned forward with a kind smile, your voice gentle. “We’ll make sure to address it, good man. Rest assured, our dragons will find something else to feast on. Perhaps… less flying sheep.”

The farmer, visibly relieved, bowed and backed away, muttering a fervent prayer to the Seven that his sheep might remain on the ground.

Just as Tyland let out a sigh of relief, a noble from one of the smaller Lannister-sworn houses strode forward, looking far too pleased with himself. Lord Wyllis, a minor lord with an impressive mustache and an even more impressive ego, gave an exaggerated bow.

“My lord,” Wyllis began, his tone full of pride, “I bring news of our recent hunts. We’ve managed to clear the boar from the southern woods.” He paused dramatically, casting a look at you. “M’lady, you may sleep soundly knowing your paths are safe.”

Tyland suppressed a smile. “I’m sure she’s grateful, Lord Wyllis.”

Wyllis straightened, a smug look on his face. “It was a feat worthy of a song, truly. Perhaps the lady would care to join us on the next hunt?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eye. “Ah, but what about the dragons, Lord Wyllis? They might feel… neglected if I went on foot. Do you think they’d appreciate boar over sheep?”

The lord paled, clearly having not considered this particular complication. “Well, uh, I... hadn’t thought of... dragons joining, m’lady.”

Tyland bit back laughter, giving you a conspiratorial smile. “I’m sure we can find a way to keep both the boars and sheep safe, Lord Wyllis. Perhaps we’ll even commission a song for your next feat.”

The final petitioner—a young woman from the nearby village—curtsied nervously, her voice barely a whisper as she spoke. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but there have been... sounds. In the night. Coming from the hills.”

Tyland’s expression turned puzzled. “Sounds?”

“Yes, my lord. Terrible noises… screeching, flapping. We fear it may be some sort of… beast.” She looked over at you nervously. “No offense, m’lady.”

You gave her a reassuring nod. “None taken. I believe those may be our dragons stretching their wings at night. Nothing to fear.”

Tyland added with a nod, “Think of it as… an added layer of security. After all, who would dare invade with dragons patrolling the skies?”

The young woman looked unconvinced but gave a hesitant nod, whispering her thanks before scurrying away.

As the hall began to clear, Tyland leaned back in his seat, looking thoroughly relieved. “Well,” he muttered under his breath, “I think I prefer Jason dealing with the boars and the… flying sheep.”

You laughed, resting a hand on his arm. “You handled it well. Besides, it’s good practice. We may yet have to sort out a great many more dragon-related grievances.”

Tyland chuckled, though he cast a wary glance toward the open window as if expecting one of your dragons to swoop in for a meal. “Yes, and next they’ll be asking us to train the dragons not to take liberties with the livestock. Wonderful.”

You patted his arm, smiling. “You’re handling it brilliantly.”

He gave you a long-suffering smile, though there was warmth in his eyes. “If by ‘brilliantly’ you mean barely keeping my head on straight, then yes, quite.”

And as the last of the petitioners filed out, Tyland let out a sigh of relief, wondering how he’d survive another audience if his dragons didn’t get their fill of sheep sometime soon.

When young Daemon and Alyssa arrived at Harrenhal, perched proudly on Viseron and Grey Ghost, the towering, soot-stained walls of the cursed castle seemed to lean in as if watching them approach. Prince Daemon, already in the courtyard with Jason Lannister and Lord Simon Strong, squinted up at the sky, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two teenage dragonriders descending.

Jason sighed, rubbing his temples. “Just when I thought we’d left all the chaos behind at Casterly Rock…”

Prince Daemon smirked, watching with a glint of pride in his eye. “Chaos? No, my good man, that’s the Targaryen way.”

The dragons landed with a heavy thud that made the stone courtyard tremble, Grey Ghost and Viseron stretching their wings as if claiming this cursed castle as their own. Young Daemon slid down first, giving a cocky bow to his uncles. Alyssa followed, her face alight with mischief as she took in the grand, eerie structure of Harrenhal.

Lord Simon Strong, the current castellan of Harrenhal, watched the whole scene with a mix of awe and amusement. “A sight, isn’t it? Lannister children… on dragons. I would say Harrenhal hasn’t seen anything quite like it.”

“Likely because Harrenhal would prefer to remain standing,” Jason muttered, giving his niece and nephew a wary look.

Young Daemon grinned, clearly picking up on his uncle’s anxiety. “Come now, Uncle Jason. We’re here to lend our support—and perhaps brighten up these gloomy walls.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Brighten up, you say? Harrenhal’s walls aren’t known to take kindly to… brightness. Or guests, for that matter.”

Alyssa, undeterred, stepped forward with a smirk. “Perhaps that’s because Harrenhal hasn’t seen guests like us.”

Lord Simon laughed heartily, clapping his hands together. “Now that’s the spirit, young lady! Harrenhal could use a little excitement. It’s been dreadfully dreary here since… well, since it was built.”

Jason shot him a look, his tone dry. “Let’s not encourage them, Lord Simon. The last time they were unsupervised, half the Lannister sheep population took flight.”

Prince Daemon chuckled, folding his arms. “It seems my niece and nephew are well on their way to mastering the fine art of Targaryen mischief.”

“And Lannister,” Alyssa added with a grin, casting a proud look at her brother.

Young Daemon pointed toward the castle’s ominous towers. “So, where’s the best place to start? This place is practically begging for some… improvements.”

Jason let out a long, suffering sigh. “Preferably somewhere without structural importance.”

But before Jason could protest further, the two teenagers were already exploring, their dragons trailing behind them with bemused, curious expressions. Grey Ghost nudged one of the ancient, cracked walls with his snout, causing a loose stone to tumble down with an echoing thud.

“Careful!” Jason called out, his voice rising with alarm. “This place is practically held together with curses and spiderwebs!”

Young Daemon waved dismissively. “Uncle Jason, if Harrenhal’s survived this long, it’ll survive us.”

They ventured into the main hall, where the thick, ancient walls seemed to breathe with a life of their own. Shadows twisted along the cracked stonework, the grand structure radiating an eerie silence. Alyssa glanced at her brother, a mischievous glint in her eye. “What do you think, Daemon? A few more dragon perches?”

Lord Simon, who had been trailing behind, chuckled. “Harrenhal might appreciate a few dragon-sized renovations.”

Young Daemon grinned. “You’re right, Lord Simon! Look at these pillars—they’d make perfect scratching posts for Viseron.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, “Let’s not add ‘desecrated pillars’ to the list of grievances we leave here.”

But despite Jason’s grumblings, Viseron seemed to take the suggestion seriously. The dragon flexed his claws against the stone floor, leaving deep gouges in the ancient rock. Grey Ghost, not wanting to be outdone, flapped his wings, sending centuries-old dust and cobwebs swirling through the air.

“Perfect ambiance!” Alyssa declared, brushing cobwebs from her shoulder. “A little Targaryen touch, wouldn’t you say?”

Prince Daemon laughed, clearly delighted by his niece and nephew’s antics. “I do think Harrenhal looks more… lively already.”

Jason groaned. “Lively? Harrenhal is liable to collapse in protest.”

Lord Simon, grinning from ear to ear, seemed entirely unbothered by the chaos. “Nonsense, my lord! It’s about time these old stones were shaken up a bit. Besides, who wouldn’t want dragons in the family?”

Young Daemon cast an appraising look around, noting the worn tapestries and crumbling statues. “What’s that saying about Harrenhal being cursed?”

Jason, still looking thoroughly exasperated, muttered, “That it destroys every family that holds it. And I’d rather we didn’t test the theory, thank you.”

Alyssa flashed a grin at Jason. “Don’t worry, Uncle. We’re just here for a visit. Harrenhal’s not going to collapse… we’ll leave a few stones standing.”

As they continued exploring, Viseron and Grey Ghost took turns nudging ancient statues, examining the stonework with what could only be described as “dragonly curiosity.” Each time they knocked something loose, Jason flinched, but Lord Simon only chuckled, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Young Daemon suddenly turned to his uncle with a mischievous smile. “You know, Uncle Jason, you could always take a ride on Viseron. It’d give you a different perspective of Harrenhal entirely.”

Jason’s face blanched. “I think I’d rather stay grounded. Thank you.”

Prince Daemon laughed, slapping Jason on the back. “Oh, come now, Lannister. You wouldn’t want to pass up the chance to see Harrenhal from the sky, would you?”

Jason managed a strained smile, his voice barely concealing his dread. “I… I think I’ll pass.”

Alyssa gave an exaggerated sigh. “Pity. You’re missing out, Uncle.”

As the dragons explored, Harrenhal’s walls seemed to groan in protest, the echoes of ancient curses mingling with the gleeful laughter of two young Targaryens and the resigned mutterings of a thoroughly exasperated Lannister lord. And as they moved through the castle, Lord Simon watched the scene with a twinkle in his eye, a man clearly delighted to see Harrenhal brought to life—even if it meant risking a few more crumbling walls.

By the time the sun began to set, Jason was visibly weary, muttering under his breath as he surveyed the damage. “I’ll never hear the end of this from Tyland.”

Prince Daemon clapped him on the shoulder, his grin as sharp as ever. “Consider it a lesson in family unity, Jason. A true bonding experience.”

“Or a lesson in why we avoid bringing dragon-riding siblings to cursed castles,” Jason replied dryly, though there was a reluctant smile on his lips.

And as the dragons settled, Harrenhal’s walls might have been slightly worse for wear, but the ancient castle had never felt more alive—or more thoroughly unsettled by its wild, Targaryen-Lannister visitors.

In the dim glow of the candlelight, you sat at the writing desk, a sheet of parchment before you as you dipped your quill in ink, preparing to write to your sister, Rhaenyra. Tyland, ever the doting husband, was seated beside you, leaning over with that familiar glint in his eye, clearly intending to distract you from your letter.

He watched as you wrote, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. “You know, sometimes I still can’t believe this is real,” he murmured, placing his hand over yours gently, stopping you mid-sentence.

You looked up, meeting his gaze with a playful smile. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Our marriage, for one. A match arranged by a misunderstanding—a ‘happy accident’ at Otto Hightower’s hands.”

You laughed softly, remembering all too well how Otto had arranged your betrothal to the wrong Lannister twin on purpose, thinking he was binding House Lannister to the Hightowers’ cause. “I suppose we should be grateful for his ‘mistake’. He wanted us as pawns, but now he’s lost our support entirely.”

“Not exactly a winning move, was it?” Tyland grinned, clearly reveling in Otto’s failed scheme. “Imagine it—he thought he was securing an ally, and yet here I am, hopelessly in love with the most rebellious Targaryen he could have chosen for me.”

You gave him a light nudge, trying to keep your focus on the letter but finding it increasingly difficult with his mischievous smile so close. “Rebellious now, am I?”

“Oh, unquestionably.” He leaned closer, whispering in a conspiratorial tone. “Marrying you has been nothing but a series of delightful rebellions. Every sheep Viseron steals, every minor lord terrified by your dragons… I can only imagine Otto’s face if he knew.”

A mischievous smirk crossed your lips. “Perhaps I should include that in the letter to Rhaenyra—let her know just how unplanned and yet wonderful this marriage has turned out to be.”

Tyland raised an eyebrow, feigning horror. “Oh, you’ll ruin my image as a respectable lord, you know. What will everyone say?”

You laughed, dipping your quill back into the ink. “They’ll say you’ve been properly Targaryen’d, love. Consider it an honor.”

He pretended to groan, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. “And here I thought Lannisters were supposed to be the ones doing the taming.”

You leaned in close, a teasing grin on your face. “Oh, you’re welcome to try, Lord Lannister. But I warn you, Targaryens are notoriously difficult to tame.”

Tyland chuckled, running a hand through his hair in a mock display of resignation. “Well, I’ve certainly noticed. But, you know… I think I quite like it. All of it.” He placed his hand on your stomach, where the newest addition to your family grew, his expression softening. “You, the children, the dragons—even if they’re liable to eat the tapestries.”

You smiled, placing your hand over his. “We’re a family now, Tyland. And not because Otto intended it, but because we chose it.”

He looked at you, his expression tender. “Exactly. That’s the most unreal part of all, isn’t it? We were supposed to be a political alliance. Yet here I am, utterly, hopelessly yours—and completely unbothered by the thought of our dragons terrorizing Westeros together.”

Laughing, you returned your attention to the letter, writing out a few more lines about your life at Casterly Rock, the amusing mishaps with the dragons, and, of course, Tyland’s adaptation to Targaryen life. “Should I include that last part, do you think?”

Tyland made a show of considering it. “Oh, by all means, do. Let Rhaenyra know her former tame and now rebellious sister has turned her proper Lannister husband into a dragon-handler—however unwilling he might have been at first.”

You smiled, your quill scratching against the parchment as you added the line, a sense of warmth blooming in your chest. “Rhaenyra will be delighted. She warned me this marriage might be a mistake, and yet here we are, proving her wrong.”

“Then we owe it to Otto, don’t we?” Tyland said with a laugh. “An intentional misunderstanding on his part, and now he’s left with nothing but our rebellion in return.”

Leaning over, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, his voice soft. “Here’s to more misunderstandings, then. The best kind—the ones that bring happiness and laughter rather than war.”

As you finished your letter, sealing it with the wax of House Targaryen and House Lannister combined, you couldn’t help but marvel at how far you’d come together. An unexpected marriage, a union born of conspiracy and miscalculation, had somehow blossomed into something real and precious. And though Otto’s schemes had intended otherwise, they’d given you the best kind of happiness—one with dragons, laughter, and love.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x you #game of thrones #asoiaf #hotd x y/n #a song of ice and fire #fire and blood #hotd tyland #tyland lannister #tyland x reader #tyland x you #tyland x y/n #a lion's leap #house lannister #house targaryen

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2demondogs · 16 hours ago

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With Chrismas around the corner (not really but basically), i would love an Arthur x GN!reader where Arthur proposes to reader for Chrismas and they obviously say yes because, well, it's Arthur, who wouldn't?

Anon did you read my mind. I was just thinking about proposal fics when you sent this ask because I have yet to stumble on one somehow... I'm sorry this took forever btw T-T

Shoutout to my platonic boyfriend for helping me with ideas because I got writer's block <3

Words: 3k oh my good lord Tags: canon divergence (it's just people leaving the gang a chapter early), Arthur does not have tuberculosis, INSTANT spoilers for character death, cheesy shit

It's been too long, you're realizing, since holidays like Christmas felt like special things. There is a double-edged feel to this one — it is the first since Hosea's death, since leaving the gang — but it is the first, in a very long time, that you've spent in the so-called right way: in a warm house with four solid walls and someone you love, how those fanciful books Mary-Beth used to talk your ear off about always wrote.

The house is warm enough, anyways.

There's work that needs done on the cabin. Some of the wood is rotting out and chipped at the corners, forming into sharp splinters that you've brushed against one too many times, but it is a house. You haven't had this pleasure since before joining the gang.

Sometimes, with how content Arthur seems at baseline, you wonder if he's had this pleasure since early childhood. On quieter evenings, ones less reserved for happiness than this one, there has been clipped discussion about how Arthur has never had domesticity like this. Silently, it was an admission of how good it is to share this freshness with you.

During a ride into town, he'd admitted that he had never picked up painting because it was the sort of thing only steady folks got to enjoy. You'd gotten him a set of oil paints when no one was looking — he's worth much more than a few measly dollars, but that means little if you haven't got them to begin with. Some habits die hard; he was happy you remembered what he'd said only a few hours before.

Come the new year, Arthur plans to find work that will pay. New things are a luxury neither of you care much to indulge in, but the repairs will take lumber and maybe a few extra hands. Ones with more expertise, at least, because Arthur's houses usually have not had foundations.

You could simply move now that time has passed, yes. You could find somewhere much farther away, maybe even New York, and pack yourselves in alongside the other sardines bustling about a city, undetectable in uniformity. Shave beards, got jobs, change clothes, cut hair and color it, too, if paranoia strikes— but keeping low to the ground has worked itself out so far, and there is no more of that deathlike stagnation in the air of this place.

Sentimentally, you think this Christmas will seal off whatever makes this cabin yours. Shadows linger, there's been a few odd creaks that've spooked the horses, and maybe it's going to shit a lot quicker than either of you want to admit, but it's your shit-house and the shared stubbornness between you has always brought you nothing but closer to one another.

Arthur is tired of running, and so are you. Last week, he talked about writing to Mary-Beth and Simon, maybe checking if Kieran — the utterance of the man's proper name was a confirmation of the last of that stockholmlike regret having worked out of his system — had broken and followed his little girlfriend. It wasn't said with malice, just some amusement.

"Why do you think he would?" You'd asked.

"Dutch only saves people who don't ask for it," he'd said, and that wistful look in his eyes vanished before you could ask what it meant.

Maybe it's the hard work that makes it feel like a real, true holiday. Pearson and Grimshaw stopped working everyone harder in the winter over the years, once the familial glamour faded with each new addition to the gang. It was no longer a tight-knit group, but a posse, more or less, of runaways and strays all against a big, evil thing like the rest of the world, or whatever it was that Dutch grew to fear.

Since November, Arthur has been saving the best catches to be salted and stored for Christmas dinner. Each addition is cleaner skinned and cut than the last, and the newfound worst of them ended up being ate upon his return from hunting. You've both been saving back herbs since summer, dried and ready to be crumbled into the heated up pot come time for a real feast. Cornbread was made by hand for the first time since you settled down here, drizzled with honey from the general store a ways out.

The latter was Arthur's only specific request for a fancy dinner. If you hadn't gotten him a single gift save for making it, he'd still be happy as a clam.

He's been putting that goddamned honey on everything. You're glad he seems to be enjoying things again, not as tightstrung as he was before you'd made off with him. That's how it feels, anyways, after the long and struggling conversations that were had before the decision was made. Family or life? It's a hard question for someone who has such little concept of either.

Now, the grey hair in his beard is catching the light from the fireplace where he's sat himself on a chair before it. They'd sprouted through the sun-bleached blond atop his head has been looking lighter and lighter in recent months, grey finally catching up to the discoloration and giving him some malcolored sort of tabby look. It's a good one on him, as much as he complains about looking old as dirt and that it's all formed by stress.

For all the lacking color, it adds a ruddy warmth to his face. Daydreams of growing old together find you when you focus on it, or on his wheezing laugh that's gotten worse with the cold weather. Despite the woolen vest he's been sporting, his fingers are as chilled as yours whenever they've brushed. Idly, you wonder if he's gotten whatever Hosea grew into, then remember they were never by blood.

Arthur hadn't wanted you to get him any gifts. When you asked if he would get you something, he'd flushed and changed his mind, apparently already having done it.

Whatever it is, it's good-sized, wrapped in one of the dustcloths you'd gotten him alongside the paints. He's been spending more time painting, lately, tucked in the treeline and looking over the cabin or deeper into the woods, studying something plein air the way those professionals do. He'd propped it against the wall this morning, and once you've settled on the floor before the fireplace — too cold outside not to crowd close to it — after dinner, he looks between you and the cloth like he isn't sure what to do.

"D'you wanna do the honors?" He asks, and grins although the twitch of his eye tells you he's covering timidity with faux cockiness.

"You go ahead," you say, half because he's closer. Tormenting him in small ways must be part of any good gift.

The painting is an image you recognize. A photo that one of the girls took for you months before things went down the hole, using the camera Arthur was loaned by some feller in town who wanted photos taken for a book. He never returned it, and it more or less became something he tucked beneath his cot and let the elements beat around. You can't remember, now, who it was or where he went to get it developed.

The little inkling of pride you felt knowing he kept putting off getting the negatives developed — not enough money, not enough time — yet was gone the next morning to have yours developed returns, now.

It's a much nicer rendition of it, your clothes not dirty and his arm around your waist, the other holding his hat to his chest. It's clear he preferred to give your portrait more detail, his own lagging somewhere behind in clarity and looking closer to the photo. You suppose it's easier to look at someone besides himself, but there's a clearer enjoyment in the lines of you, more care taken in the color mixes.

Ignoring the dense joy of the implications of that, of how obvious it is, proves difficult. Your cheeks twinge some from the wide smile before you realize you're even reacting.

"You'll be a big name someday," you say, and he may as well shrink in on himself beneath the praise, although he's heard it plenty of times before.

"Naw," he waves a hand. "Quit that."

"Really, Arthur." Scooting closer, laying your hands over his knee. He's moving his jaw when your eyes meet his, lays a hand over one of yours, heavy and warm. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"Good," he says. His jaw clicks. "I— uh, I love you."

The hunting knife you got for him seems small, though relatively equal. Arthur looks as pleased as ever studying it, half-mumbling appraisals of yeah, nice and sharp, sturdy to himself that likely would've stayed inside his head, if it weren't for wanting to show you he liked it.

A bone handle, which he feels over with his fingers before noticing it's engraved, fits easy in his palm. You were afraid you push your luck with maintaining its quality too far adding the tiny, vague bear shape next to the deeper cut of his name. Already impressive was the fact that you hadn't ruined it with the letters, being one of your first expeditions into anything of the sort.

"I would've gotten you one of those folding knives," you explain. "But they don't hold up as well, and I know you have one."

The army knife was Hosea's.

"Needed me a new huntin' knife," Arthur says. You know, because he's complained about his current one being close to snapping with all the skinning he does anymore. He squints at the handle, turns it over in the light from the fire. "Did you engrave the handle?"

"Yessir."

He smiles. "It's real nice," he says, pats his palm with the blade softly. It makes a dull noise, sturdy metal on skin. "Why a bear?"

"They remind me of you," you admit. Really, you'd spent a long time considering what else to add, because only his name seemed so plain; although he wouldn't be opposed to flowers or vines, they are a little more intricate than a simplified bear head. "Big and strong. Hairy, too. I'd like to hug one."

He snorts a laugh, but it seems thin. His eyes are fond enough on you that it couldn't be any rejection of your words, and so you brush it off. "You wanna hug a bear?" He asks.

"In a perfect world," you amend. "Don't they look warm?"

"You'd better stick to me," he says, smooths a palm over the thigh of his jeans. The nicest pair he owns, he promised you, because he feels ridiculous in slacks and seems to think you care what he wears.

Beyond thinking everything looks well on him, at least. You often find yourself concerned with that thought.

"I got you somethin' else," Arthur starts, running a finger over the bunched inseam at his own knee. "Well, uh— it's f'both of us, really."

Isn't that intriguing, you think, but your silent, undivided attention seems to make him outright nervous, so you say: "Oh?"

Some conflict happens over his face as he pulls his vest collar away and reaches into the inner pocket, takes out a stack of thin papers that he glances over before apparently relenting to something. Confusion finds you, until he takes a deep breath and holds them towards you.

"Read these," is all he says, and he sounds like it's almost painful.

He's written much, much more than that. Your stomach turns, once or twice, realizing they are pages from his journal. Uncertain why, until the first entries which are skittering on affectionate fade into ones much more flowery. They are all about you, days you'd spent together or times you hadn't, the things you've given him over the years and the things he wished he could've given you.

Each page makes your chest feel tight with a panicked joy, as if his hands were not fiddling with the new knife to occupy — distract? — himself but clenching hard at your heart.

One, near the beginning, says he thought of pickin' a pretty lil' flower, God bless it, I feel ridiculous; on the back of the next is pressed a variegated tulip, crumbling with age but holding firm to whatever adhesive glues it to the paper. Again, that creeping smile, like thyme. Another entry is entirely about your hair, because it had brushed his arm. Only a few sentences made up that page, below the cursive a choppy sketch of your horse.

Certainly, Arthur stays busy in his head. You've always known as much, but never figured any of it was about you. Not like this, anyways, though the dates spread from the week before Blackwater and you can only wonder what laid in that journal he lost before.

"Oh, Arthur," you start, looking up from a third-way through, feeling giddy but not wanting him to watch you so intently while you finish them. No wonder he was shy. It's his heart. "You're so sweet."

"Finish readin' 'em," Arthur says, doesn't meet your eyes at first. When he does, they're gentle. "They get sweeter, y'know, better finish 'em. 'Cause of that."

He is nervous. Hardly moving, besides the tongue running over his teeth beneath his lips, and the rambling every time he opens his mouth. You don't mind, never have. He's endearing like this.

Outings you'd went on infrequently, the dates of his favorites underlined, you're noticing, based on the tone of his words in them; his worries and fears about courting you, and some of what you mean to him though, with its succinctness, you have a feeling he wouldn't dare put all of his genuine love to findable paper; things he likes about you, and one page where he admits that he cannot keep himself from documenting you in every other entry, which tells you this small collection is hardly everything. The previous entries turn over in your mind again, and you are struck on a random page for a moment as their meanings take hold, realizing they were especially sliced from his journal to show you.

The entries leading to the last are what set your mind and pulse ablaze. From the first appearance of the word marriage, you swallowed your idea of what may be coming — Arthur's breathing changing beside you doesn't help any, and it certainly does not help that he leans down once you've reached the last page, plucking it from your hands. Before he does, you notice quite a few crossed out lines, scribbles as if he were frustrated with not being able to find the right words.

"Think I've got the balls on me to read this one aloud, at the very least," he says, voice laced with a chuckle. Breath comes uneasy, but you collect yourself enough to gather the pages back into a neat, ordered stack in your lap. "Unless you'd rather spare me," he adds, nudges your knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No." Your voice sounds strange, even to you. "Do me the honors."

Arthur bites his cheek, nods and lets it fall as he smiles. Still, his hand finds the back of his neck, the page held between two fingers that remain surprisingly steady. The knife lingers in his hand beneath it, and isn't it just like him to propose holding a weapon.

Propose. It takes its first toll on you, rolls over your back in shards of tingling.

"December twenty-fifth, nineteen ninety-nine," he starts, eyes flicking to your face every other word until the intensity of your gaze must make him too anxious. "It's a nice little life, livin' with the one I love," — rubbing his mouth, sighing some — "Jesus, I always gotta be sappy." You laugh, though it comes out more forceful than you intended, and relax some until he continues. "The thought of another day where anythin' could happen 'n' we ain't bound is somethin' I hate."

Arthur pauses, stands up and places the journal entry on his chair. You take his hands when he holds them out to where you sit, grunting when he hauls you off the ground with more force than you expected, feet shuffling into place to stick all-too-close to his. His hands are burning, skin feverish when you grab his wrists, as if you'd ever want to stop him as he eases onto a knee before you.

And his eyes throw you off balance, too, catching the light just enough that you can tell they are stinging. So are your own, now that you think about it, but intelligent thoughts go out the window once you sense him about to speak.

"I wanna be 'til death do us part," Arthur confesses, fumbles to catch both of your hands in his in an awkward, squeezing hug of a hold.

The way your bones catch on one another, well— it's not a sensation you'll forget, like the first time he kissed you and you felt it still a week later, warm pressure on your mouth if you got too lost in the memory. He looks as good, looks so nice, and you know your fingers would be shaking if he weren't crowding them together, steady.

When he says your name, the blood is rushing through your ears too loud to hear it clearly; you almost want to ask him to do it again. "Will you marry me?"

Nodding, face slack before it spreads in a grin. "Yes," you say. "Of course I will."

His is hidden by how he lets go of your hands, catching them before they fall in stupid, limp joy back to your sides. He lays kisses along the knuckles, all three rows of them. It's so awfully saccharine and yet you could never tell him to quit being sweet— not now, not as he stumbles to his feet after you pull him up and shake off his hold to grab his face, tugging him into a kiss.

Arms come around your waist, squeeze tight enough to hurt, or to hold in place. Arthur runs a hand over your back, breaks the kiss to slide a hand into your hair and press your face to his chest, caging you in his arms. He smells warm, like good cologne, and you know he's been planning this.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #gender neutral reader #neutralreader #arthur morgan #ask #oneshot #fluff #sfw #rdr2 #reader insert #proposal fic

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meteoritesystem · 1 year ago

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whoever my therapist is when i move out permanently is gonna have no idea what theyre in for .

#text #im not talking abt my parents in therapy in more depth than Current stuff and relevant past stuff cuz i dont want to like #dredge that stuff uo and try to work thru it while living with them #but once i move out. ………..oh good lord.#Well i mean. i did say i would start talking abt my brother once he moved out and that. Didnt happen. so #Well maybe ill just ignore it all forever it seems to be going really well for me

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knaveofmogadore · 7 months ago

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Hang..

#ran out of tags on the other post but I've got so manynof these #was best friends with a pair of roommates who became so intensely codependent that they both had breakdowns when the other studied abroad #a guy who had siblings regularly terrorized my friend who also had siblings with the corpse of a roachnfor over a year (roommates)#ive known ONE situation where the only chold terrorized an apartment of sibling people. but that's because they were all poc and she was #insanely racist. like so racist that MY little pale jewish ass got weird vibes from her on first contact #learned some good lessons from roommates but none of them are things I'd be able to explain to a kid #except maybe 'if you get the feeling someone's mad at you all the time but won't tell you for some reason just move out'#oh! my friend had a partner who was a terror of a roommate. as in she psychologically terrorized my friend and their roommates #once listened in on a convo that went 'i shouldnt have to warn people I'm walking into an apartment I PAY FOR just because they want a date #oh also @ my niblings sometimes situations are unwinable before you even get there. sometimes people just make up their minds about you #and you just gotta deal with the consequences of that decision. if you're in an unwinnable social situation just hit the bricks #you can't fix something that isn't functionally broken and it puts you in situations where every choice is wrong #living with people who grew up with fucked up sibling relationships created a lot of '0 good dialogue options' situations #cant leave the living room because then they asked for something and got it and that's shameful. can't sit in the living room. they want it.#again i could have been a way better roommate. for a multitude of reasons some under my control some not. but lord in heaven #but having siblings does NOT socialize you to live with other adults i hate that myth every situation I've lived in has proved it wrong #NONE OF US had any clue how to live with people who weren't our relatives #and this will happen to you. you will move out and realize the extent of your habits cause most people's parents just tolerate stuff #or your parents just got used to things that would drive other adults insane and they don't notice the things you do cause they're your kid #(or they might have even taught you those habits/level of cleanliness themselves)#one dude at the boarding house got mad about being asked to have basic responsibility for his room. so he left it covered in trash #and when they went to clean it it was covered in a fine layer of mold on almost every surface. genuine biohazard scene #got hit with 'youre the only person i don't regret letting into my house' from the woman we paid rent to when i moved out #and I'm like gee the bar is in hell 😭

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ch3rriiii-bunn · 8 months ago

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You belong to me

Paring: upper ranks + Muzan x Fem!reader

Synopsis: In different pov's, their jealously turn them a bit crazy

Content: possessiveness, jealousy, hinted smut, choking, fave grabbing, slight blood play, demon reader in Akaza, Nakime and kokushibo's part, kidnapping on Douma and Muzan's part, escape attempt, Muzan grabs you by the neck like that one guy in 365 days lol, arranged marriage theme on Muzans part

A/n: yall know that song by the weeknd? had to write some possessive jealous shit based on that song with some demons! WHAAAA I NEVER WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!🥴might do one with the hashira next🤭

Akaza

Akaza is known to not like his fellow upper ranks. You've seen it first hand when Muzan allowed you to attend an upper rank meeting since you became a demon by Akaza. He hated them all with a passion. Especially the ones ranked above him. With this knowledge, what in the hell possessed you to give any of them your attention?

Not just any upper rank, either. Douma in particular. In your defense, once Douma starts speaking, it's hard to shoo him off, especially given that you're much weaker than Douma is, so you play along to keep your reputation on a good note. You simply smile and nod at his nonsense. You knew Akaza wasn't going to step in since he'd rather run in the sunlight than talk to Douma if you were on your own.

How wrong you thought you were. Once Muzan actually left, Douma become more bold. Asking you personal questions, standing to close and even about to hold your hand, but before you could answer, you heard the sounds of blood splatter on the floor. Your eyes widened at how quick Douma's arm was severed.

"Oh, come now, lord Akaza. I was just joking-" "Shut up for once." Akaza snarled at douma in pure disgust. You wanted to say something, but you felt your feet leave the ground. Akaza had grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder and walked away from Douma while holding you. It always amazed you just how fast he was, but you knew how mad he was. The anger was just raiding off Akaza.

Akaza made sure to be far away from the other upper ranks in the infinitely castle and walked into one of the many empty rooms. Akaza put you down, but then, he backed you up against the wall. You felt your back press flat with your hands on the wall as well, giving how close he was to you. "Lord Akaza, please don't read too much into it. Douma was just being an idiot. " You tried to explain, but Akaza wasn't having any of it.

Akaza raised his brow. "So you're defending him?" His voice rasped as he tilted his head to the side. "No.." Your tone softened and looked at Akaza, worried since that wasn't your intentions. "I don't think I've made myself clear enough if my actions haven't shown it already." Akaza said and brought his hand to your collar bone and rested it there for a moment.

"Demon's I hate don't get the right to talk to who belongs to me." Akaza's face comes closer to yours with his lips now inches away from yours. His hand moves from your collar bone, up to wrap around your throat. "And you entertain a demon like him. Even saying his name from these lips. His fucking, name" Akaza's jaw clenched, and his hand tightens kts grip on your throat.

"Aka..za" his name hitched in your throat. His grip was deadly. You could still breathe. However, Akaza's grip was firm. He wouldn't dare kill his precious demon. It was just a "light" punishment. However, he needed you to learn your lesson and to show your loyalty to him and him alone. "Say my name properly. Or is my strength too much for you to speak?" Akaza smirked.

"L-lord Akaza. Lord Akaza~" you say his mamw twice. The second time you say it, you let out a heavy gasp as akaza lossend his grip on your throat. "You belong to me. Understood?" Akaza asked, keeping that eye contact and tightening his hand around your throat if you dared to look away. You nod quickly, your eyes almost teary from the slight lack of oxygen, and you watch Akaza's lips curl into another smirk.

"Good girl." He chuckled and gave you a kiss.

Nakime

Your girlfriend, Nakime, had summoned you to the infinitely castle. It's her job to always summon the 12 kizuki at the request of Muzan. Naturally, you felt terrified but remained to have a calm once you were summoned. However, Muzan was nowhere to he seen. Just Nakime, sitting there, a level above, and you looked up at her in confusion.

"Pardon for speaking out of turn, but where is lord Muzan," you asked, assuming it was him who wanted to speak with you, but it turns out that wasn't the case. "It was I who summoned you." Nakime spoke, her tone a bit quiet yet blunt. You chuckled and cut the formal introduction since Muzan isn't here, and you can speak freely since it's just you and your girlfriend.

"You do know it's probably a bad idea to summon me since you're taking me away from my work. Search of the blue spider lily and all." You grinned at Nakime and palced your hand on your hip. "I was keeping an eye on you. One of upper 4's clones has gotten closer to you. Haven't he? " Nakima said. You detected slight irritation in her voice, mentioning one of Hantengu's clones, but instead of asking a question for a question, you always knew it was better to answer her first.

"Ah, Urogi, yes. I wouldn't say we are close. However, he's a fun demon to work with. He likes to have a bit of joy and humor on our search," you answered. It isn't abnormal for Nakime to use her blood demon art this way. Especially since she's on the lookout to find the ubuyashiki family in the demon slayer core. Still, you couldn't hide your smile knowing Nakime was most likely thinking about you and wanted to check in on you.

"I forbid you to speak to him. Your task is to look for the spider lily. Not entertain each other with humorous jokes and touching," Nakime said. Her words made your heart spot for a moment and knew exactly what she was talking about. Urogi has always been proud of his sharp talons and would often tease you with them, but on this mission, he wanted to take it up a notch and poked your cheek.

To you, it was a wholesome moment. Urogi was just teasing, nothing different he dosnt do to the others, but Nakima had to see that, and she was furious. Urogi only touched you once in a playful manner, and it was enough for her to use her blood demon art to summon her back to you in that very moment. "He was getting too close to you for my liking and being bold enough to do that. Especially bringing those filthy claws of his to touch my woman's pretty face."

During this entire time, her facial expression remained unchanged until now. You could see her lips form into a frown and even watched as her teeth clenched together in a snarl. She was jealous. "Urogi was just being playful. I wouldn't read too deep into it, love. Sekido is probably scoling Urogi right now for wasting time to focus on finding the blue spider lily." You reassure Nakima, but she wouldn't let it go.

"Come here." Nakime took her biwa off her lap and rested it gently beside her on the floor and motioned her finger for you to come sit in front of her. You did as Nakime asked and sat down in front of her. You wanted to explain further to find the right words to reassure Nakime, but before you could, her hand grabbed your face

You gasped. Your breathing became unsteady as you felt her firm grip, her four fingers on one cheek while the other had her thumb, or rather her nail, poking onto your skin. The same spot Urogi poked at. "I will not allow a man's to touch to linger on what belongs to me." Nakime's voice turned cold. "You belong to me." She said as her thumb nail pressed harder, breaking your skin until blood slowly pours out.

Your jaw opens, and you inhale a sharp breath with your eyes barely open as you feel the sting. You're a demon, so of course it'll heal, and Nakime didn't pierce too deep. It was her way of wanting to hear her words come out of your mouth. You kept your eyes on her and eventually spoke up. "I belong to you~" Your voice hitched as you felt nails nail pull away from your skin.

Nakime leaned in closer to lick the blood from your cheek and watched as your cut healed already. She kissed your cheek and then came closer to your ear and whispered, "That's right. You belong to me, beautiful." Nakime said. Her hand lets go of your face and then trails her sharp nails down your neck.

You shivered until her fingers reached your kimono, near your tits and Nakime smirked. "I should remind you of how a woman's touch feels. So you'll never let another man touch you again," Nakime said. You bit your lip softly, feeling the heat rise higher in your body and your thighs squeezing together more. "I want that," you said, and Nakime's smirk only grew.

"Open your thighs for me and lay back. I'll show you how good these fingers work other than playing a biwa"

Kokushibo

His brother has been dead for centuries. Yet his name still echos throughout history but never would kokushibo think that his brothers name, yoriichi, would leave your lips.

Although you're a demon now and have been for a while now, you could still recount memories you had during your times as a human, especially in the demon slayer core. It was basically a law for any of the 12 kizuki to never speak of Yoriichis' name, yet you just had to talk about him since gyokko was curious to know how humans thought of him.

"Yoriichi has sun breathing. That's the best way to describe why he's well known even after his death. He could kill any demon in seconds. It's quite impressive," you admit to gyokko, and he nods his head, humming in response. Kokushibo had already been looking for you, but he never interrupted any of your conversations when you had them. However, hearing Yoriichis' name from you alone set him off to act out.

He came from around the coner and stood behind you. "Do I think yoriichi could beat Kokushibo? Well maybe-" you said but then saw both of gyokko's mouths open as he looked behind you. Your brow raised in question, and you turned around to see what shook him so much, but now you realized. "Kokushibou hi" you smiled nervously at him.

"It was good talking to you, bye!!!" Gyokko hides inside his pot, probably in another one by now, so it was just kokushibo and you. "Listen, I was just- oh!" Kokushibou picked you up, and then you heard Nakime's biwa sound, transporting you back to his home. You knew you fucked up. You and gyokko tried to talk in secret, but now kokushibo was going to punish you, a demon for speaking about yoriichi but in his own way.

Kokushibo put you down, turning your body away from him to face the wall with your body pushed up against it. You grunted from the sudden pressure but gasped once your hair was pulled back to face kokushibo. The view was upside down, but you could see just how angry he was. "You know to refrain from using that name. Have you lost your mind?" Kokushibou said, his deep voice almost turning into a growl.

His hand had a fist full of your hair, and not only that, his lower half was just inches away from pressing up against you. "I know- I was just telling memories from my human life I didn't think it was a big deal-" "and you actually believe a person like him could defeat me. Do you really think that? Dose his name interest you so much that you've forgotten just who's wife you belong to?" Kokushibou said.

You had a confused look on your face. Is he seriously jealous at the mention of his brother's name from his lover? You knew kokushibo was jealous, but you didn't expect him to be this possessive. "I'm sorry~" This is all you could mutter out. "Do not. Ever say that name. Again." Kokushibou crouches down to your ear, speaking slow for his words to be understood.

You mewl softly, biting your lip as you nod quickly, understand his words. "My name should be the only name said from those lips." Kokushibou now brought his other hand up to your chin and holding it while his other hand is still gripping your hair. Your back arches just a bit more once you felt Kokushibou press himself up against your ass.

He let out a heavy breath with a deep moan mixed in. "Having your jaw broken for speaking his name is the normal punishment from lord Muzan, since you're a demon and it'd grow back." Kokushibou grinds himself against, letting go of your hair and placing his hand on your tit.

"However, I have my own punishment. Just for you." Kokushibo's breaths become heavy, feeling himself get into heat, and he whispered in your ear.

"A punishment where you'll never remember to say his name and only mine. You belong to me, my pretty demon~"

Douma

His "church" wasn't a church at all. You made the dumbest mistake to have even joined this religious cult. Your "savor", the one who saved you that day from eating eaten like an animal from a group of demons and showing you such kindness was just a cover-up for his true identity, which was a man-eating demon and not just any demon, the 2nd highest rank in 12 strong demons led by an even more powerful demon. The realization sunk in, and you made an ever worse choice than the first one.

You wanted to escape. You wanted out. You thought you planned your escape for a week, asking around what Douma's schedule was like so you knew the perfect days on when to leave, but that back fired on you. When you noticed nobody outside the temple, keeping guard and, of course, no sight of douma, you made a run for it.

You felt relieved. No one was there to stop you until a dark figure appeared from the shadows and snatched you up like you weighed nothing. "I caught you! You sure ran fast. Are you sure you weren't a demon slayer before you came to my temple?" Douma said, smiling from ear to ear.

You tried to catch your breath from running up, but your breath quickly turned into a panic. Douma frowned for a moment, "Oh you poor thing. Don't be scared. We'll get you back to the temple so you can rest for the night," Douma said. With such fake empathy in his tone, it almost sounded sarcastic.

Douma continues to hold your body off the ground in a bear like hug. His muscles flexed to hold you firmly so you couldn't escape. However, looking at Douma more closely, you noticed changes about him. His teeth looked more like fangs. His body against yours felt so cold, almost like he was dead and worst of all. He had "upper 2" written in his eyes. Was this a demon's technique? How was he able to hide these features on him so well around his cult members.

"I don't want to go back!" Your voice trembled. You tried to speak soft, but the panic got to you. Douma only just smiled, speaking in his cheerful voice. "If you're worried about being eaten alive, don't worry, you aren't my type of woman to eat, but you are my type of woman to be around. So I will be keeping you since you asked for my help to save you from those demons that day, so it only makes sense for us to stay together." Douma chuckled.

"What??" You sighed, looking at Douma with worry, fear, and confusion. "I don't belong to you, so let me go!" You hit Douma, but you knew your strengths was no where near compared to his. Douma places his hand on the back of your head, making your rest your chin on his shoulder while he embraces you more and nuzzling his face to your neck, taking in your scent.

"You still don't get it y/n? You're mine. I'm going to keep you until your time as a human is up." Douma said, throwing you over his shoulder and began to walk back to the temple.

"You belong to me and me alone~"

Muzan

2 years had passed since you were kidnapping, and you were finally back and safe with your family. Although your kidnapper, known as the most powerful demon, kidnapped you was bad, he could've been a lot worse. So you like to think of it that way. He could dispose of you at any moment, even when you couldn't help him find the blue spider lily, but he didn't.

You're family for owning a flower company, educated on flowers even so that's the main reason why Muzan took you but he let you go when you were of no use to him anymore. The bond you had with Muzan wasn't always about his work. There was soft intimate moments between you two but you knew not to get your hopes up since in the end, your knowledge wasn't all that useful and he let you leave, putting his work before you.

Your life continued to move forward, and eventually, you had an arranged marriage. A soon to be husband for you. He wasn't bad. He did promise to treat you right, give you his money and etc but deep down, you knew you couldn't love this man but went along with it for the benefits and your familes sake.

The wedding took place during the night. Your in-laws thought it would be a great idea to see how lovely your wedding dress would look in the moonlight. You asked to be alone in the fitting room, and you turned off the lights. Despite being human, you've gown accustomed to the dark and toy opened the window, feeling the night's breeze. Your hands slide down your sides to your hips, and you smile at yourself in the mirror, seeing just how gorgeous you look.

"You look stunning, my dear. They were right. The way the moonlight shines on that beautiful dress is just Devine," a deep familiar voice said. You gasped and turned your head to the window and saw Muzan, sitting in the edge and watching his glowing red eyes trace every inch of your body and even smirking at how the dress hugs your hips and holds up your tits perfect.

"Why are you... h-how did you find me?" You stepped back. Muzan came into your fitting room further and made his way towards you. Your body froze, but your eyes softened once you felt his hand on your cheek. His hand was so cold. "Do you think I'd let just anyone actually go?" Muzan bluntly said. That line alone confirmed your thoughts from a year ago. You weren't actually free, and like you predicted, Muzan would come back to you. However, it wouldn't be for the reason you think.

"I don't have any more knowledge on the spider lily. Even after you let me go, I couldn't find it." You explained to Muzan, but he only grinned. "I have upper ranks to do the job much better and faster than you," He said. His words cut a bit deep since you used as much energy as you could've helped him before. "But you can be useful to me in... other ways," Muzan said as his eyes gestured to your body and then looked back at your face.

It's like the old feelings came rushing back. In your own sick way, you missed this man. Muzan is the worst, curel and dangerous man-eating demon you could've ever met. Yet you knew leaving with him was a choice you had to make now. Your mind snaps out of it once you head a knock at the door. You and Muzan look at the door and hear a woman's voice on the other side.

"Um, y/n? Are you almost done?" One of your maid of honors asked through the door. "Yes, im-" you paused. Your eyes look down to see Muzan's hand slide on your hip and even slide his hand down lower, just like how he used to, but you stopped him. "I'll be right out. Just give me a minute," you say in a worry, and then look at Muzan, his lips inches away from yours, and you spoke quietly.

"You can come by tomorrow night, and we'll talk about this. You came at such an odd time. " You rolled your eyes halfway, trying not to let all these emotions cloud you. You turned around, but the second you did, Muzan had grabbed the back of your neck, making you gasp as he pulled you back to face him. "Mm.." Muzan brought you into a heated kiss, making you stumble back and sit in the mini table in your changing room.

"Y/n!?" Your maid of honor placed her ear on the door after hearing a thund sound. "If you think for a moment I'd let you have some random mam in bed with you, then you're more stupid than I thought," Muzan said as his jaw tensed. You pant as you feel his fingers press into your neck and you placed your hands on his chest for some kind of support.

"You belong to me, and I'm taking you back. The connection we share won't ever disappear, so don't think for a second it will," Muzan said, pulling you into another kiss. This time, you kissed him back. His words may not have been the sweetest, but you understood them. He wanted you, and you wanted him. He pulled away once he heard hard banging on the door.

"Let's go," you said, lifting up your dress, not hesitating for a moment about leaving. Muzan had picked you up, and you heard a biwa sound, transporting you to Muzan's room in an instant. Muzan, put you down. His hands made their way to your body, with one hand on your ass and the other playing with the zipper on your wedding dress.

He smirked at you, letting out a dark chuckle. "Now. Won't you let me give you that wedding night you deserve to have"

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #muzan x reader #muzan smut #akaza x reader #akaza smut #douma x reader #douma smut #kokushibo smut #kokushibo x reader #nakime smut #nakime x reader

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sleepyjuice · 4 months ago

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dying in the heat rn, so how do you think jj would react if you moved to sleep somewhere else in the middle of the night because you were too hot with his body heat?

Oh JJ would not stand for that! After hours of tossing and turning throughout the night, you finally gave up on trying to sleep with JJ’s body heat pressed against you.

You didn’t know how he was sleeping so soundly considering he was quite literally a human furnace, but his soft snores got quieter and quieter as you pulled yourself out of the bed and padded out to the pullout couch in the living room of the chateau.

You got yourself comfortable, sighing as you felt yourself begin to cool off, eyes becoming heavy as sleep finally took over.

It didn’t last long, however, because just as you were about to enter a deep sleep, you felt yourself being lifted into the air, immediately making you gasp loudly, your eyes shooting open only to realize JJ was fucking carrying you back to bed.

“JJ! What the fuck?” You smacked his arm lightly, your heart rate slowing down once you realized it was just him. In your sleepy daze, you thought you were being kidnapped or something.

“Shh, ‘s alright, just me,” he laid you down in the bed before plopping down beside you. “What were you doin’ out there?” He asked you, his voice thick with sleep. He had clearly left the bedroom to find you only seconds after he had woken up.

You sighed, feeling annoyed with how you were heating up once again but also a bit guilty.

“It’s so fucking hot in here and — as much as I love sleeping with you, you are a human furnace. I can’t sleep when it’s so hot.” You explained, gentle with your tone. It wasn’t his fault he was so warm. When it was colder out, that was something you really loved about him, just not during this heatwave from hell.

He hummed at your words, not saying anything for a moment as if he were taking a second to process what you had said. Like he was mentally trying to come up with a solution.

“Be right back.” Was all he said in response, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and exiting the bedroom. Lord knew what he was doing, but he didn’t seem offended, so that was good.

You fanned yourself with your hand as you lay there waiting for his return, turning your head towards the door once you heard him approaching.

“Alright, we can go get an extra box fan or somethin’ tomorrow, but maybe this’ll help for tonight.” He shut the bedroom door behind him before stepping over to your side of the bed, an ice pack and a washcloth in his hands.

“What is this—“

“Sit up for me, baby.”

You did as he said, sitting up just a little as he wrapped the cool washcloth around the ice pack and placed it on your pillow, right where the back of your neck would go. He gently lowered you back down and you could have moaned at the cool feeling that tickled your neck and slowly started to cool you off completely.

“Oh that… that feels nice.” You giggled softly, earning a satisfied grin from your boyfriend as he crawled back into bed beside you, lovingly kissing your slightly sweaty forehead.

“Mm, salty.” He licked his lips once he pulled away, which got him a middle finger in response, but you quickly dropped it, reaching out to him to pull him closer to you.

“Thank you for this, ‘m sorry I just left. I didn’t think I would wake you up.” You told him, his head resting against the side of your boobs, one of his favorite places to be.

“Can’t sleep without you, baby. Hopefully this helps.” He said simply, brushing off your apology. To him, it wasn’t necessary.

Your eyes grew heavy, the soft murmur of JJ’s voice mixed with the cool sensation below your neck was relaxing you finally. Plus, JJ was nuzzled against you, still warm but the coolness from the ice pack mellowed it out quite a bit.

Maybe you would wake up sweaty and overheated again, but you would manage. This was your favorite place to be, whether or not you were on the verge of a heat stroke.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank imagine

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redheadspark · 1 year ago

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Miss

Summary - Azriel missed you on his latest mission, and he shows you how much he has missed you

Warnings - SMUT SMUT SMUT! This is a SMUT one piece, NO MINORS FROM HERE ON OUT!

A/N - I am no SMUT writer, apologies in advance!

You were right at the peak, beyond close to tipping over and having that euphoria of pleasure consume you once again for the fifth time that night. But then again, you were wishing not to let go just yet, this was the right amount of pleasure that was now wrapping around your bones and consuming you from the inside out. All thanks to the Illyrian Spymaster above you who was taking his sweet time fucking you.

This was his game: the game of Azriel the Shadowsinger of Night Court.

All you could breathe was Azriel, all you could feel was Azriel, and all you could ever experience was Azriel. There was no doubt that this was the best kind of drug that you could ever consume and need in your face life, even after 300 hundred years together as mates. Azriel snuck into your life, someone you never saw coming when you were introduced by Mor. There was no instant explosion of lust, nor was it bone dry and unfeeling. It felt like you were slipping into a warm bath, your muscles unwinding instantly and a sigh of relief on your lips as you two shook hands for the first time. Although you were friends at first, you both knew deep down that you were going to be connected in some way.

It only took a few years after meeting and building your friendship to feel the bond take place. From there on out, it was game over.

Azriel never stopped his hips, his toned muscles along his backside were working on overdrive as he was having over you while fucking you with such precision laced with intimacy and devotion, it was almost tooth aching. But this was how Azriel worked when you two were in the throws of pleasure, going in right for the kill at the very beginning and then taking his time later on. His patience in giving you pleasure could not be measured by any other, though you were not one to complain at all. If he could, he could keep you on edge for hours on end and still have the drive to make you come undone within seconds.

Azriel was good at this game, and you would let him win every time.

"Oh fuck, my love," He growled against your cheek as his hips were still rolling. Your legs were parted easily, sore for being spread for some time but now the feeling now a dull ache. Just feeling his toned muscles and body against your own was enough for you to forget your thighs that were shaking. His arms braced your head as your arms clung to his shoulders, feeling a bit of his wings as they were tucked against his back. He kissed your cheek a few times as you were holding on for dear life, hearing him murmur, "I don't think I can ever stop,"

"Fuck…fuck don't stop," You moaned and pleaded as he gave a few hard thrusts, having your eyes roll back as his smile against your jaw was evident.

"I won't ever leave you that long ever again," He swore, engraining it in your skin as you bit your lower lip and moved one of your hands to run into his sweaty locks, "It was too….fuck…too long away from you, from being able to touch you like this…"

As if on cue, he moved one of his hands from being near your head to rubbing your clit, having you moan loudly and curl into him as the pleasure was now heightened to the tenth degree. You were putty in his hands, and Azriel smirked from feeling you shake once his thumb rubbed your clit slowly and deliberately.

You both knew you needed this night together, Azriel being away for almost an entire month thanks to Rhysand and his need for Azriel and his Spymaster ability. Rhysand was on a tour of sorts to the other Courts, his own way of keeping peace with the other High Lords and going over the treaties that were signed. Rhsyand was more than willing to go on his own, not letting High Lady Feyre come nor their own Nyx. Feyre was running Night Court without him and Nyx was too young. If left him having both Cassian and Azriel come along with him, Cassian talking to other army commanders in other courts, and Azrile being a second pair of eyes and ears in those meetings.

You were left alone from your mate for that long month, keeping busy and helping your High Lady. But you weren't going to lie and say you didn't miss your mate, his company with you, your talks together, and most of all, the intimacy with him. There was no doubt you two had a healthy sex life, a very healthy one at that. The jokes from Rhysand and Cassian about Azriel and his high energy in bed were always evident when you and Azriel just got together, though you never let it affect you.

But you knew those rumors were true when you and Azriel first slept together.

"Azriel…Az please.." You mewled as his thumb was still rubbing your clit and his hips were still going at a constant cadence that was both filthy and yet touching at the same time. Azriel knew how to fuck and he fucked well, no matter how many times you two were together like this, he made your heart soar and your moans sound lethal. This night was no different, Azriel starting off the night instantly as you two made it back to your penthouse home in the city. Azriel left his hesitance at the door, perching you on the edge of the kitchen island as he sank to his knees and dived in between your legs within seconds. Shaking and moaning with no shame, you felt yourself cumming within two minutes of him licking into your pussy with just his tongue alone. Watching your orgasm and your shake on the counter drew more desire from him, his chin still glistening from your release as he then licked his own fingers to have a second round with you.

Another four minutes, you came from his fingers. Azriel was only warming up.

"Please what, my love?" He asked as he watched your eyes dilated and your lips parted in pleasure as he was still pounding into you slowly and with deep precision, "There is no way I can be done with you when you look and feel like this, beyond words," He lightly bit your jawline as you huffed and bit your lower lip, "I can't get enough of you, ever. Nothing else has ever come close in my love, and I don't want anything else,"

You moaned, both from his words and how on edge you were. He nuzzled into your cheek for a brief moment, breathing in your scent that was mixed with sex as he leaned back to be sitting on his legs. Seeing you sprawled on your satin sheets, a gift from Rhysand on your wedding day, blissed out in pleasure with your hair plastered to your neck and cheeks and your eyes wide in love, Azriel thought you were heavenly. His cock was still nestled deep inside of you, your pussy aching both in intense pleasure and lust as he drank in the sight of you. He wanted this picture for the rest of his days, Inca se he had to go away again and think of you deep in the night for him to have something to come back to.

This night alone was memorable, fucking you against the shower wall as the water went cold against his back, then taking you from behind on the bathroom floor moments after turning off the water in the shower. Which led to you two tangled on your bed, you riding him with a new core of desire in your belly. But this, being pinned under Azriel as he was relentlessly fucking you into the mattress, was beyond words and made you feel like you were floating out of your body.

Azriel was a pro at this.

"Cauldron, you're breathtaking," He hummed in lust as he was watching you while still perched over you, his cock rock hard inside your pussy as you lazily grinned. You were still on edge, but that ache was nothing new for you in how he would draw this out for as long as he could to make your orgasm mind-numbingly amazing. You reached up with one spare hand, Azriel then leaning down to have you cradle his face with your palm. But your fingers were near his lips, you tracing his Lowe lips to feel how plump they were and you moaned.

"Gods you're divine," You moaned as his hazel eyes drilled into your own. Without breaking eye contact, he opened his mouth to let two of your fingers slip into his mouth lustfully. His tongue along your digits, with the wicked grin on his face, was enough to make you scream as his hips were moving again. It was such a site, Azriel fucking you deeply and with new pent-up energy as he was sucking your fingers made you teeter on edge all over again. You were so close, the feeling there along your spine and under your eyes as you were now babbling at him, knowing it was a turn-on for him to hear you moan and whimper his name.

"Fuck me…please fuck me….make me cum….make me cum. Now, Az. Now….I wanna cum…" You were repeating it like a mantra as he was drilling his hips again and again. Nothing else was in your head, only the love you had for Azriel and how much he cherished you in his life. He placed you first in all his choices and decisions as a Spymaster, choosing the less threatening missions and fights just to keep himself safe to come home to him. How he loved you with both his words and his actions whenever he could. Azriel felt as if you two being mates was fate for him, meant to be, and nothing would change that for him in his mind. Not even the Cauldron itself would take you away from him.

And watching you orgasm, howling in pure pleasure and euphoria was enough for Azriel to also fall over the edge. He felt himself empty inside of you, the sense of love and relief all over his body as his wings shot out in the moment of him summing. The release, the new layer of love that was unleashed with the both of you, made Azriel almost float to the sky if he could.

He would choose you over anything, over anyone, in this lifetime or beyond.

Finally feeling boneless, he collapsed on top of you and held you close, still deep inside of you but not wishing to lose that connection anytime soon. Holding you close, he breathed you in as your fingers were tracing his arms with the tips of your fingers. Azriel held you like a jewel, delicately and with possession at the same time, while his lips were pecking along your neck and shoulder. No matter how many times you two would fuck, there was still the foundation of you two loving each other.

Loving each other through the highs of your life and the lows. Through the tragedies and the joy. Azriel loved you with everything in him, you grinning against his head as you finally found your voice.

"If you intended on giving me the best sleep, then you have done well, my love," You said against his forehead. Ariel laughed, the vibration of his laughter was against your neck as he held you a pinch tighter.

"You bring this side of me out in the best way," He cooed, then moved his head up to be eye to eye with you as your gaze on him lingered with affection. He paused, looking you over and feeling the sensation of peace between the two of you. Even in the tossed sheets and deep in the night, you both were back to the solid foundation of your love together.

"I've missed you so," He whispered to you, making your heart flutter as he nuzzled your nose with his.

"Not as much as I missed you," You hummed back, ruffling his hair as he leaned in to kiss you.

The End

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deadsetobsessions · 7 months ago

Text

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT BY @out-of-jams

ACCIDENTALLY KIDNAPPING A MAFIA BOSS

In Tucker's defense, he thought he was doing someone a favor. A life saving favor, in fact.

"What the fuck-!” The red helmeted guy yelped as a deceptively strong Tucker yanked him onto the bike and sped away. Before Tucker could explain, the GIW agents behind them got in a lucky shot and hit the helmeted liminal with a strong blast to the head.

Clearly, his gear wasn’t equipped with anti-ecto protections, because the guy slumped over on Tucker’s arms. This was bad, because Tucker now had to maneuver about 230 pounds of Gotham muscle while speeding away from government agents. He flicked on the jammer so they couldn’t track his and red helmets’s ecto signature.

“STOP!”

“Ah, shit.” Tucker cursed as he somehow managed to gather up red-helmet’s body and stabilize the bike. “C’mon, Tuck, you can do this.”

Blasts of anti-ecto tech slammed into buildings around him. Luckily, Gotham was used to this kind of shit so people just moved out of the way before going back to their day. Tucker wove around traffic, trying to lure the agents into slamming face first into some signposts.

“Stop damaging the local infrastructure!” Tucker yelled back at them, speeding up.

“WELL REIMBURSE THE PEOPLE AND THE CITY LATER! TELL US WHERE PHANTOM IS!!”

“Over my dead body, you jerks!” Tucker took a sharp right, catching red helmet before the man could slip off. He sped up and took the ramp downwards, heart beating loudly in his ears as he strained his senses to figure out- ah, they took the ramp upwards. Good. Now, all he has to do is bring red helmet back to home base.

“Oh my god. I kidnapped him,” Tucker groaned, slapping at his face before quickly placing his hands back on the handle bar once the bike teetered over with red helmet’s weight. “I’m a criminal. Oh my god.”

Then, as he found his way back, “…Well, it’s not like I wasn’t a criminal before, with the whole resisting arrest thing.”

——

Tucker dumped the red helmet liminal onto the couch of their shared apartment and went to take a shower. When he got out ten minutes later, he found Danny and Sam staring at the helmet guy. Tucker pushed up his glasses (after letting them defog from the shower) and greeted them.

“Hey, guys! I found him while I was running away from Agent L and J.”

“You okay?” Danny asked, eyes immediately flicking over Tucker for injuries.

“Yeah, I’m good. They’re horrible shots.”

“I thought Danny was the one who brought home strays but you…?” Sam commented, arms crossed and a purple painted nail tapping at her arm. “Wait. Isn’t this… that crime lord? What was his name?”

“Red Hood?” Danny offered, turning back to look at the guy on their couch.

Tucker paled. “Oh, no.”

Guns? Check.

Red Helmet? Check.

Bat-Symbol? Check.

Shit.

They collectively stared at the guy in silence.

“…Tucker,” Sam slowly said. “Did you accidentally kidnap a crime lord?”

“Hey, I didn’t want him to get killed! He’s liminal! Even more than us, except for Danny.” Tucker grumbled. “Man, this is why I leave the hero-ing to Danny. I do one good thing and suddenly I have a crime lord on my couch.”

“My couch,” Sam corrected, as she was the one that furnished their apartment.

“What do we do now?”

“Eat dinner,” Tucker said. “I’m famished.”

Sam nodded. “Wait for him to wake up and hope he doesn’t shoot us the moment he wakes up. Then, we explain.”

Danny grabbed all the visible guns he could see. Tucker went to start dinner. Sam supervised, because her boys were idiots and now she had a crime lord in her apartment.

——

Jason groaned, head swimming in a sea of dull throbbing pain as his eyes fluttered open.

Then he remembered he was abducted, and bolted up right. He paused as a series of quick observations made its way to his consciousness.

One. He’s not tied up. Weird, because everyone knows that he’s a weapon even without his weapons.

Two. His weapons were right there, just in reach.

Three. He was surrounded by teenagers and/or young adults who were all scrolling along on their phones.

“Oh, hey, he’s awake! Hi!” The Wayne bait said, electric blue eyes fixing itself on Jason. “Were you aware you died?”

Jason went rigid, hundreds of way to-

“Danny!” A scolding tone cut of Jason’s immediate panic. Two couch pillows slammed into Danny’s face, courtesy of goth girl and nerdy but strong.

“Dude, why do you start with that? Why are you like this?” His… possible kidnapper? asked, exasperatedly flinging his hands into the air as he rolled his eyes.

Goth girl scowled. “Boys. Crime lord, couch, remember?”

“Hey, in my defense, I died too!”

And that- as Jason remained dumbfounded in this circle of tomfoolery- was what snapped Jason out of his daze.

“You what?” He rasped out.

And when he saw them open their mouths at the same time, Jason just knew his headache was going worse.

——

Tucker, effortlessly plucking the actual red hood from the streets: and I whoop-

Jason, whose type is strong, nerdy, and tall: *heart eyes* *but not really because he’s unconscious*

——

Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker.”

Jason enters chat:

Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker and his boyfriend, the Red Hood.”

——

#writing prompt #DCxDP #Sam Mason #dpxdc #Danny Phantom #Tucker Foley #they share an apartment #so basically they’ve got the swankiest living space ever #bc Gotham rent is cheap #are they platonically or romantically living together?#no one knows #I sure as hell don’t either

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turnfires-secret · 2 months ago

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Kinich x top male reader? Imagine that Kinich limps a little after their night with reader, and while reader is trying to make amends, Ajaw makes fun of them in every possible way. That would be fun lmao😭

Anon ilysm i've been craving a reason to write ajaw for days now and I finally get my excuse!

This isn't really smut tho... sorry if I've disappointed anyone!

Payment Due | Kinich X Male Reader

It’s beyond hot inside your shared bedroom. How long had the two of you been at it? Neither you nor Kinich could recall. Kinich has buried his face into the crook of his arm again, trying to keep himself quiet. It doesn’t bring the Turnfire hunter any sort of mercy from the ruthless unending pleasure plaguing his mind, seeing as you just start fucking him harder fueled by the desire to listen to the whorish sounds that slipped from his mouth.

When Kinich wakens the next morning he’s met with a terrible sticky sensation and… as per usual, the most aggravating sound Kinich had heard in his whole life.

“Ew! You humans really are disgusting! I’d have never expect my own servant to engage in such… foul, vile, unholy, unsanitary acts of sacrilege in the close presence of the mighty dragon lord, Ku’hul Ajaw! “

Attempting to ignore Ajaw’s incessant yapping, Kinich takes a deep breath and gets up out of bed… Only to realize the pain and agony that came with such a task. Actually, phrasing it that way is abit too… dramatic. What he was actually facing was the aches and pains of post sex. Kinich is limping, and (to make the situation worse) Ajaw notices.

“Oh? Did that puny human you drool over fuck you that hard to the point you can’t walk straight?! Wait- Meheheheh! maybe today’s my lucky day! You should go outside and try fight a pack of those idiotic tribal warriors and die!”

“I’m not that stupid, now leave me alone”

Kinich replied, taking yet another deep breath before going to the bathroom and taking a shower. The dendro user finishes his shower, feeling much more refreshed and awake despite the fact he’s still limping. Changing into some fresh clothes he feels your arms around his waist and your head nuzzle into his shoulder.

“Well good morning to you too”

“Mhhh~ Kinichhh why are you up so early….?”

To Kinich, the sound of your voice was always the best part of his day.

“It’s far from early my love, Infact, it’s 11 am”

“Still too early…”

“EW, DISGUSTING LOVE BIRDS, YOU MAKE ME SICK!”

Theres a pause in the room before you and Kinich both decide to once more completely ignore the yelling pixelized projection.

“Moving on, you, should be paying me compensation.”

Even though your voice was the best medicine for the aloof warrior, you were still not exempt from his habit of counting costs. To Kinich, it seems his aching grievance was enough to warrant payment.

“Wh- payment?!”

“Because of your prior actions i now find it hard to walk normally, so personally, i think you should pay the prince, no?”

“Personally i think you should charge them has much as you can, Kinich!” (Ajaw says, bardging into the conversation only to get ignored)

“Wh- Alright then~ For payment how about… we go another round?”

You respond, your voice now holding that seductive tone you seemed to enjoy using with him.

His neck is sensitive after last night’s activities. You bite down, hard enough for him to feel it. Such an action’s associations mixed with such sensitivity forced a needy whine from Kinich’s throat, aswell as changes the Turnfire warrior’s mind.

“... fine, i have time to spare… just… be abit more gentle this time, will you?”

#genshin impact #genshin male reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #sub genshin #bottom kinich #kinich x you #kinich genshin #kinich x reader #kinich #ajaw #k'uhul ajaw #genshin ajaw #genshin impact kinich #genshin kinich #malipo kinich #kinich and ajaw

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generalsmemories · 8 months ago

Text

sensitive

✧ sunday x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: the wings by his ears are far too sensitive for what you're both about to do to them.

✧ contents: just a lil scenario for the piercings on sunday's wings. and the hc (that has probs become every writers canon take) that his wings are oh so sensitive. established relationship, mildly suggestive cause why not, uhh, mentions of blood? sunday being utterly weak against his lover. ooc sunday cause goddamn i have NOTHING on this man.

✧ a/n: breathes in. listen i don't believe in any god but good lord i would start praying for this man if he asked me to.

jing yuan wips still in order, i just want to be on my best self mentally when writing for my eepy general so have this brainrot so i can function this week at my work and hopefully i'll write something more <3 thank you once again for your patience!

NOT BETA-READ THIS WAS WRITTEN WITHIN AN HOUR CAUSE THIS BRAINROT HAS BEEN BREWING INSIDE THE MIND FOR A MONTH, IM SORRY FOR THE ALL OVER THE PLACE WORDS - I HAVEN'T WRITTEN SINCE THE LAST JING YUAN ANGST PIECE.

Your fingertips have barely grazed the very edges of the feathers when the distinguished leader beneath you flinches in surprise. The fingers that grip your hips tightening further which causes your body that was previously hovering above him to settle down on Sunday's leg. You can hear a tiny sigh leaving his lips before you feel his head rest against your shoulder, the action causing you to chuckle.

"The longer you delay this, the more nervous you'll get, you know?" you muse, threading your fingers through his hair in an effort to coax him to lay back in the same position he previously was in. You're barely able to touch his right wing again before a gloved hand shoots up from his side and you feel a sharp nip at your neck in warning - causing you to immediately halt all of your actions.

"It would've gone a lot faster have you decided to not do it in such an orthodox method, dear." Sunday retaliates with a sigh, pecking the bite mark as some sort of apology, an apology that you knew was not sincere in the slightest.

You giggle once again, settling down comfortably on his legs whilst slightly leaning back to fully look at your lover. Your arms loop over his neck while cocking your head to the side in slight confusion, although said confusion doesn't reach your mischievous eyes or the huge grin on your face. "Why I thought this would help calm you? It was your idea to pierce these wings of yours after all," you remind him, tapping the piercing gun that you're currently holding onto on his shoulder.

The man before you sighs, seemingly in exasperation over your usual antics whilst shrugging away the piercing gun that you're continuously tapping him with. You can however clearly see the slight reddening on top of his ears, while his wings tuck a bit behind his ears - clearly a signal that he's feeling a bit embarrassed.

"You're well aware of the effect you have on me, my love." he admits, the hand on your hip moving from its spot to instead rest against your neck. "Hmm? Then I suggest that you hurry along to let me pierce your wings before said effect makes you lose your patience," you tease with a quiet laugh. "I do have a lot of experience with this lil' gun of ours after all." you cheekily say - causing Sunday to direct his gaze towards your own ears, which have a few more piercings than your average person.

"... I'm well aware." Sunday replies.

Well aware of how sensitive your own ears are, almost as sensitive as his own wings that have yet to be pierced. He could let out a breath beside them which causes you to tremble, a small peck would make you gasp softly, but if he were to use his tongue-

"You're thinking of inappropriate things again, dear." you mutter into his ears before unlooping your arms from his neck to rest against your sides, your whole weight supported by the singular hand Sunday has on your hip.

"Hardly."

For someone not of Halovian descent, you're somehow able to discern his thoughts immediately - quite a hassle to be honst.

"Well then, my dear? Why don't you relax so we can get this over with so you can return to your duties?" you whisper, moving your body to sit between his legs so that you can get a closer look on his right wing, where he preferred the piercing to be on.

"... Just- don't say anything when you're about to do- Ah!"

The single clicking noise of the needle piercing his wing before retracting back to it's original spot makes Sunday jolt in surprise, the grip on your hip increasing in pressure, but you're too busy looking at the placement in glee to care for your distraught lover right now.

You notice the edges of the piercing reddening a bit, extending your finger to gather the tiny bits of blood that had escaped from the wound. Glancing at Sunday, you notice his slightly glossy eyes that immediately diverts from your gaze.

The quiet laugh you let out makes Sunday glare at you, but his eyes widen slightly when you lick his blood away from your fingertips with closed eyes. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" you ask, opening your eyes again to lock eyes with Sunday, diverting your gaze slightly to his right wing.

You decide not to comment on his glossy eyes, deciding to instead scoot closer to peck the corner of his eyes, "Sorry that I surprised you, but as you said - Doing it this way is far more convenient for the both of us," you explain, lips pressing against Sunday's to coax him into relaxation.

"Mhm, thank you for indulging me, dove." he whispers, arms wrapping around your waist, the tension in his shoulders finally leaving.

"Although..." you murmur in between various pecks against Sunday's lips, your lover raising an eyebrow up in confusion and imploring you to continue speaking.

"I think you said you would go for 2 of the same piercings if the first one looked nice, no?" you say before pressing your lips against his once again. Sunday was barely able to understand the meaning behind your words before he could feel the same pain of the needle shoot through his already overly-sensitive wing.

The loud gasp he lets out is swallowed by your lips, his open mouth letting your tongue slip inside while the piercing gun in your hand slips away from your lips now that you've done your part of the deal. Your hands settle themselves against Sunday's cheeks now- wiping away the few tears that have now slipped down from his glossy eyes with your thumb.

There's a certain desperation in Sunday's hands by your waist. He had first bunched the material of your clothes upwards by surprise, but now he's slipping his gloved hands beneath them and quickly traveling further up - he moves in a way that you don't know if he's trying to push you away to scold you, or press you closer to him to feel your warmth.

He eventually decides to push you away. His cheeks are reddened and he's heaving for breaths while he's glaring down at you in mild disappointment and a hint of excitement - and yet the hands that's dragging the buttons of your shirt from inside to snap them open tells another desire from the esteemed leader of Penacony.

The same mischievous smile is present on your lips when you part ways, your lips are a bit swollen but it doesn't stop their journey from grazing against his now incredibly sensitive right wing, the jerk of his entire body not bothering you in the slightest as your lips glide over his feathers, your lover shuddering a bit when you let out a breath right over his newly pierced wings.

"All done now, my love," you mutter into his ear, shrugging off your now ruined shirt off of one shoulder, "Do I get any reward for doing this so smoothly and quickly?"

Sunday lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your triumphant expression before shoving you down onto the couch the two of you were previously resting on. "I'm thinking a punishment is more fitting for how you didn't warn me of your actions twice, no?"

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #sunday x reader #sunday honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail x you

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chokamo · 2 months ago

Text

every day, i dress all black

pairing : charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary : you were known for wearing nothing but black, and though no one ever gave it a second thought, the monza GP with ferrari was your moment to shine .

a/n : finish this in one hour lol

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user and others.

yourusername 📌 new york

user black theme as always

user AWWW charles matching with her

user -> i didn’t even notice until u said it

user -> love them together 💞

user so SEXY

user im no better than a man

user CHARLES GET TO HAVE THIS BRO

user charles needs to move and let me love y/n 😫

user manifesting my life like this

user the magazine is a needdd

user can’t stop staring at her. oh lord.

user the FIFTH SLIDEE

user -> IK RIGHT. like are we even allowed to see her like that 😅

user THE. couple. DUO.

user WAIT?!? why are they in new york for? 🧐

user -> 👀👀👀

user everything matches

user -> it’s pleasing to look at 😮‍💨😮‍💨

user she’s so me only having one colour scheme

user always ready to like and comment y/n pics ‼️

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user and others.

yourusername dresses are the only clothes i have

user miss y/nnn 😫😫

user gorgeous girl

user link me ur dresses please 🙏

user -> there’s account out there dedicating to link everything she wears

user -> lifesavers indeed 🥲

user 😳😳

user need to meet y/n once 😮‍💨

user -> i met her! she’s so nicee 🥹

user -> same!!! i saw her strolling one time

user -> feeling fomo rn

user -> lollll

user looking real hard

user the bows is in the hair 🎀

user -> it’s so y/n

user body body body 😫😮‍💨

charles_leclerc mon cœur 🖤 (my heart)

you liked this comment

user she’s so boring

user -> and you are not welcome

user -> get away and never come back ❤️❤️

user -> ugh.

user 🔥🔥🔥🔥

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, user, user and others.

charles_leclerc carbon fibeeeeer.

user wowie

user zoo wee mama !!!!!

user monza is gonna eat i fear

user -> y/n and charles in black together will be so 😮‍💨

user -> im so not ready.

yourusername you’re hot

charles liked this comment

user good luck for monza

user -> so excited 😆

user -> yes! the hype around it is insanee 😳

yourusername 🖤🖤

user -> we need your pics posted asap

user -> will be WAITING

user can’t wait for this grand prix

user -> excited to see how it goes

user what can go wrong

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user and others.

yourusername monzaaaaa i love u ft my outfits

user and i love uu

user love the fit!

user wishing ur clothes are in my wardrobe!!

user gorgeousss

user this is y/n world and we are living in it

user love seeing charles in her post

user -> parentss

user why does she post herself so much 🙄

user -> there’s a thing called freedom of expression..

user -> and? we love it so what’s the big deal

user -> why are u even here to hate?? get a life

user hoping to see u !!

user -> good luck 🤞

charles_leclerc je suis reconnaissant que tu sois ici avec moi ❤️ (im grateful you are here with me)

you replied -> <333

user AWWWW

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, user, user and others.

charles_leclerc a sunday ill forever remember.

user so so happy

user congratulations!!!!

user another flag added!!!

user let’s CELEBRATE

user forzaa ferarriiiiii

user HE WON IN MONZA

user YESSSSS

user congratulations!!!!

user monza is red ❤️

yourusername so proud of you

charles liked this comment

user another flag added!!

user leclerc-piastri on podium

user -> what a time to be alive

user -> my DREAM podium

user -> need a lec-pia-sainz one next

user -> or pia-ham-lec 😉

user -> add max there and we are good

user -> YUPPP

a/n : charles p1 in monza! and oscar p2! the leclerc fam .

check out my other post! masterlist

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, the events and characters depicted are not based on real life, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

850 notes · View notes

natti-ice · 8 months ago

Note

dom!eddie x sub!reader

riding eddie on the couch and wayne catching them😋

Pairing: Dom!Eddie Munson x Sub!fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, p in v, getting caught, “slut” is used once

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

Your legs are wrapped around Eddie's waist as you rock your hips back and forth, you can feel every inch of his cock sliding in and out of your tightness. You let out soft breathless moans and wrap your arms around his neck and pushing yourself further onto him. Eddie's big and rough hands are gripping your hips tightly, guiding your body with every thrust.

"Good girl, ride my cock just like that" he praises and starts to move your body a little faster, you can feel the old dated couch beneath the both of you start to sink as things become more intense. Eddie nuzzles his face into your neck, his warm breath tickles which turns you on even more. "You're such a good little slut for me" he whispers, lust laced in every syllable.

The only thing that could be heard in the trailer were your moans and the sound of skin slapping together as you began to bounce up and down on his cock. "Oh fuck, baby" you moaned out loudly, the immense pleasure started to turn your brain to mush, you couldn't comprehend anything else going on around you except for fucking Eddie. And damn, you love fucking Eddie.

Eddie moved his hands from your hips, allowing you to keep the pace, and grabs both of your tits. He squeezes them roughly, not enough to hurt you but just enough to make you go crazy. His calloused thumbs graze your hard and sensitive nipples causing you to whimper softly at just the slightest touch. "Mmm" he hums "so responsive"

You were both so caught up in the moment you didn't hear the trailer door open, it wasn't till you heard the older man's gravelly voice did you realize you weren't alone. "Dear lord" Wayne Munson spoke, your eyes widen and immediately try to get off of Eddie but he pulled you back down and threw a blanket over you haphazardly. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Wayne, seeing his face would make this even worse.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie yells out, annoyed that you two were interrupted “do you mind?”

“Um,” you can hear the shock and bewilderment in Wayne’s voice “I’ll just uh-” before he finished his sentence you could hear quick steps and the door slam shut. Eddie lets out a frustrated sigh and looks back up at you.

“So, where were we?” He says casually as if unfazed by what happened, his cock still buried deep inside you.

“What?” Your heart was beating out of your chest with embarrassment and lingering desire, you couldn’t believe you got caught but it gave you quite the rush “we can’t keep going” you try to reason with him but you knew it was no good.

“We can and we are,” he says with finality in his voice and begins to thrust up into you “I don’t care who sees, this is my pussy and I decide when I fuck it, understood?” He increases his pace and hold you in place as he jackhammers into your wet hole

The feeling of his cock stretching you out was too good to resist, you knew it was wrong but Eddie had a way of making you feel things no one else could, moans start to flow freely from you once again.

“Yes, sir”

Tags: @ali-r3n @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @canmargesimpson @nailbatanddungeon @queermaxwooo @zestychili @skrzydlak @supersmexyandhot @themadhattersqueen @arthurcerverogf @marshymallo

Join a tag list!

#natti’s 18+#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #dom!eddie munson #sub!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut

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candied-heartss · 11 months ago

Text

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐄𝐑

(𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑑!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑥 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑜𝑛)

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳, 𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲... 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹.

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 (18+), 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬, 𝑭!𝑺𝑼𝑩, 𝑴!𝑫𝑶𝑴, 𝑷𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑿, 𝑶𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑿 (𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑬 𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮), 𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑼𝑵𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑺𝑬𝑿 (𝑺𝑨𝑭𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑿 𝑰𝑺 𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑿, 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑷𝑷𝑳!), 𝑺𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑷𝑼𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑻 𝑹𝑼𝑩𝑩𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑷𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑺𝑬, 𝑫𝑬𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵, 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑰𝑻𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑼𝑺𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 "𝑺𝑰𝑹", 𝑫𝑼𝑩𝑪𝑶𝑵???

ᴡᴏʀᴅs: 2,253

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The two of you snapped out of it at the deep, accusatory voice of Felix coming from the doorway. At the sound of his voice, Oliver took hold of your hair and pulled your lips away from his cock, making you look up at the man at the doorway, your spit coating your lips.

"Sir, I... I am so, so sorry... Sir Oliver said that he needed my assistance." you told him quietly, looking down with a shameful expression painting over your features. Oliver just sat there, not moving an inch, and the slightest bit of pride showed on his face.

Felix looked at the two of you, clearly not amused at this sight, "Oh, and this "assistance" just happens to involve your mouth on his cock? You're a maid, not some classless whore."

The more that he spoke, the more ashamed you felt, and the more ashamed you felt, admittedly, the more aroused you were.

"Felix, why do you seem so angry? Aren't you glad I found a way to put your sweet, little maid to good use? She's just such a good helper, aren't you, darling?" Oliver finally interjected, still holding onto your hair and stroking your cheek.

You nodded, still too embarrassed and ashamed to say a word. You could practically feel Felix's eyes burning into you as his gaze flicked back and forth between you and Oliver. Oliver still looked at him proudly, clearly not caring about how he was presenting himself in front of the other young man.

"And you," Felix then looked over at him, shaking his head, "I always knew you were some sort of perverted creep, but to have one of the maids come and suck you off while I'm just down the hall is sickening..."

Once again, you felt wretched for even doing this in the first place. All you were trying to do was do your job well, but never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that you would be here, on your knees while a man used your mouth as his own personal fleshlight.

"Please," you pleaded with Felix, "Please, Sir Felix, please don't terminate my employment here... I'll do anything, I swear on the Lord's name."

At this, the other young man's eyebrow seemed to quirk upwards in a mixture of both curiosity and amusement. Oh, god. This is the part where he fires you on the spot. Just as you began to brace yourself for whatever you were going to hear from his mouth next, you became shocked at what you finally did hear from him.

"Then get the hell over here and suck my cock, too. I mean, since you want to be a greedy slut, you might as well take all that you can get, yeah?" he told you, beckoning you over with a singular finger.

The mere thought of it sent a shiver down your spine, and you immediately got onto your hands and knees before crawling over to Felix. He watched you intently, studying every inch of your body, every curve, every hair, every freckle, every mole... The way he looked at you intimidated you a little bit but at the same time, it left you feeling aroused and secretly quite desperate.

"Well, go on now, love. Take these trousers off... I won't bite, yet." Felix told you, tilting your gaze up so that he could properly make eye contact with you.

With a hand now lacing through your hair, he wasted no time in practically shoving his cock so far down your throat that you nearly choked. As you gagged while your throat stretched to accommodate the size, you could hear the sound of him groaning from the pleasure that he was receiving from you.

While you sucked on Felix's cock leisurely, you heard the sound of footsteps coming up behind you before feeling a pair of hands on you. It was Oliver, who had finally decided to join in and make his presence known to the both of you.

"Look at him," you heard his voice in your ear, soft enough for you to hear, but firm enough for you to understand the meaning of it, "Look up at him while you suck him nice and well, sweet girl. You can be good, can't you?"

You nodded before inhaling deeply and taking him in down your throat as far as you could before you coughed and sputtered again, your eyes now flickering up to meet his, which in turn made his grip tighter on your hair and let out another grunt of ecstasy. As your mouth kept at work, you moved your hands up to join your mouth, moving up and down on his cock rhythmically, the slick sound of his precum and your saliva that coated the length of his cock now making itself prevalent in the room.

"Fuck... Who knew a maid's mouth could feel wetter than any cunt I've ever had?" Felix pondered aloud as he watched you continue with your duties. With another groan, he pulled you off of the floor, only to lead you to the bed, pushing you down so that your upper body lay against the freshly made mattress, bent over the length of the bed.

"Sir F-Felix, I-I-" you tried to speak, only for him to reach over from behind you and push his fingers past your lips and into your mouth, gagging you and letting the saliva run down from your mouth to his hand, eventually his wrist, while your mouth made a choked sound from the considerable fill his appendages made down your throat.

"I'm going to fuck you, now, and if you do not shut the fuck up, I'll make sure to keep my fingers down your throat until you pass out from the oxygen loss." Felix threatened you, and while, yes, it was definitely meant to be in a menacing manner, it just further aided your arousal.

You then squeaked when you felt his hand traveling up the back of your thigh before reaching for your skirt, flipping it up, and revealing your underwear, much to your chagrin. You heard the two young men chuckle as they caught a glimpse of the fabric of your panties.

"Look at that, her panties have little flowers on them. How cute." Felix tells Oliver before pulling his now wet fingers out of your mouth and pulling the underwear down with one swift motion. You then shivered at the feeling of cool air now washing over your body and settling over the wetness of your cunt.

Without another word to you or Oliver, you felt the thick, heavy tip of his cock slide over your asscheek before finally brushing over your cunt, sliding through the slickness of your folds, making you shiver and him groan once again.

"Fuck... I can already tell you'll be so warm wrapped around me... Let's see if you are as tight as you are warm." He then finally pushes his way inside of you, making you gasp from the sheer size of his cock, moaning as you felt every inch, every minuscule detail of his cock as he slowly slid into you, making the two of you fit together like the pieces to a puzzle.

"S-Sir Felix, I-I- oh... You... You're so deep..." You whined softly, pressing your cheek into the mattress below you.

After a while, you had finally managed to adjust to the size of his cock and this opened up the doorway for Felix to begin thrusting, his hips meeting your ass with each movement. As he fucked you, you could still feel Oliver's eyes studying the both of you, and the mere thought of him being present in the room with you, watching as Felix fucked you with ease, made you wetter than any fantasy you had ever had.

"God, Ollie... I wish you could feel her. She's like... a fuckdoll, but real. Her cunt is so, so fucking tight." he laughed, now thrusting in harder, his hips now colliding with the plump, supple flesh of your ass while he reached up, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you closer, the sensation restricting your breathing ever-so-slightly. The now-sudden change of pace and rhythm made you practically shriek from the pure, raw pleasure you were subjected to.

And then, he stopped.

Just as you were about to whine at the loss of movement on his end, you felt his large hands grip you by the hips before pulling you off of the bed and positioning you onto your knees, kneeling on the floor in front of Oliver again.

"Now, you're going to be a good maid and clean. Clean him up, alright? Suck him dry." Felix tells you, but the tone of voice he uses with you makes you realize that it is more of an order than a request. You looked up at Oliver nervously before wrapping your hands around the base of his cock.

"Yes, sir..." Was all you could manage to reply before you leaned in and began to press kisses against the flaccid head of his cock before placing your hand out in front of it, spitting into your palm, and beginning to massage the length of his cock with both your hands, the sounds of his low groans and the wetness echoing throughout the room.

"Did you listen to anything that I just said? I didn't say give him a handjob. Suck. Him. Dry." he snapped, pushing your face towards Oliver's cock. With a heavy breath, you opened your mouth before taking his cock into your mouth and back down your throat, this time controlling your breathing so you wouldn't choke as much as the last time.

Oliver groaned when he felt you move your tongue against the length of his cock, the tip of your tongue tracing every ridge and vein that you could find. You then felt his hand on your hair, burying into your scalp and pushing you down further onto his cock and making you gag once more. You looked up at him to find that he was already looking down at you, and you could've sworn that he had the slightest hint of a grin on his face.

"Fuck, Felix... Christ, I might need to keep this maid of yours all to myself. She's just too sweet and too fucking pretty to let go..." He laughed, his attention now focused back on you as you choked again.

Soon enough, you could tell that he was getting closer to his orgasm, judging by how he began to grasp onto the back of your hair and how his grunts became an octave louder. And, yes, you were correct, as not even a moment later, you felt him tug at your hair once again before you heard him groan and the warm, sticky sensation of his cum going down your throat.

Once you swallowed it, Oliver then pulled away from you, allowing Felix to have a turn with you. You watched the taller boy with intrigue and arousal as you watched him wrap his hand around the thick base of his cock, jerking himself off and gasping softly as he looked back into your eyes.

"Oh, fucking hell... Keep looking at me like that, sweet girl. Yeah, just like that." He groaned finally before he threw his head back, his moans now echoing through the room as he finally reached his climax, his eyes rolling back as his cum now painted your face.

Once the two of them had become spent, you were about to get up and leave before you saw Oliver go over and sit on the bed, beckoning you over with a singular finger. You then slowly came over to him, only for him to pull you close and have you sit on his lap, spreading your legs wide and far enough for him to reach down and begin massaging your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a whine.

"Oh! Oh, my god!" you practically sobbed as he picked up the pace before you heard him chuckle from behind you.

"I'm Oliver, not God, darling. But, I appreciate the sentiment." he teased you, putting more pressure behind your fingers and rubbing harder. You gasped, your thighs beginning to quaver as you reached closer and closer to your climax.

You then sighed softly as he leaned into you, whispering in your ear, "Can you do me a favor, love? Look up at Felix for me, please. Let him see that beautiful face of yours when I make you come."

You nodded, your eyes now shifting upwards to meet Felix's gaze, whimpering quietly as you felt his penetrating stare, gasping as you got closer and closer.

"It's okay, my darling. Be a really good girl and come for the both of us."

With those words and a bit more pressure being applied to your aching clit, you practically burst into tears from the pleasure as you came, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, your back arching up and off his chest.

"Good... Good girl. Such a good little helper, aren't you?" He whispered, kissing your forehead, making you nod in your dazed state. Felix then leaned down and kissed you, too.

"We're so proud of you, love. You did great. What a sweet little maid you are." He tells you, stroking his fingers along your forehead almost lovingly.

#oliver quick #oliver quick smut #oliver quick x reader #felix catton #saltburn #emerald fennell #felix catton x reader #felix catton smut

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written-in-flowers · 6 months ago

Text

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

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