#having a vision and slapping it down for the world to see

[willsimpforanyone]

Hello! I'm not sure if you are taking requests right now, but I'd you are could you do something with a daughter of medusa who us almost or fully blind and everyone avoids her except for percy who has a crush on her? Can end however ypu would like :).

And remember to take of yourself and drink water!!! ❤️

thank u my lovely <3 hope u enjoy

i do have bad vision but i am not blind, so i apologise for inaccuracies,

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

medusa was blessed with a daughter

gorgeously thick, curly hair, strong as hell, brought up by your mother as best she could

she was so happy when you opened your eyes as a baby and no one you looked at turned to stone

her curse was not yours!

it only took a moment for her to realise her curse had a different effect on you

you were not cursed, but as a side effect of being medusa's child, you were almost completely blind

growing up, you never realised there was anything too different about you

why would you? your mother raised you and she kept her eyes covered most of the time, she knew how to live as a blind woman in a seeing world

things got worse as you got older, and around 10 years old is when it got really bad

the monsters were relentless, and even medusa hiding you away didn't seem to help with the nightmares

so, when you were 12, she brought you to the camp

chiron was hesitant, but knew you meant no harm - you were a scared, lonely kid, like so many others before you

kinda for the first time, you were interacting with people who could see

it wasn't hard to guess who your mother was, and apparently that was enough for the other kids to reject you immediately

you learned to wear sunglasses or some kind of fabric over your eyes, otherwise some kid would start screaming

the first couple years of teenhood were rough

of course. you learned to live with it

you learned to become incredibly spacially aware, to be able to walk into a room and know exactly how many people there were and where they were standing

there were some kids who were alright, some from the athena cabin were civil despite their mom being the one who cursed yours

occasionally, though, there was a kid called percy

a son of posiden, who you were suitably wary enough of (again, considering the story)

he came to camp a little before you did, and was off on a quest when you actually arrived

it was an odd introduction

"hi, i'm percy, i kinda killed your mom"

you had shrugged, fingers still trailing over the book in front of you

"i know. she sent me an iris message from the underworld. it's not the first time someone's killed her, she'll be back in a few days"

the silence that followed was one of awkward expectation, and you snorted a laugh. "dude, chill out, i don't care anymore"

he'd hesitantly accepted your acceptance and had left, and you'd thought that would be the end of it

to your surprise, he would come back and talk

a friendship blossomed over the next couple years, something that was new to you

you genuinely liked him

he didn't ask questions about being blind all the time, he didn't scream when your sunglasses slipped down your nose, he seemed to automatically let you know what he was doing and where he was in your space

with him came grover, the somewhat nervous satyr who calmed down once annabeth, percy's other friend, slapped the back of his head when he asked if your hair was just a bunch very thin snakes

this was more friends than you'd had in your life, and it was kind of incredible

annabeth got some books in greek braille, and together you discovered that it was easier for you to read - the ancient greek hardwire was still very much present in your brain, even if you couldn't see the letters

percy, however, went the extra mile every time

every activity you were hesitant about, he was right there with you, describing the new areas, offering to help but never touching you or giving advice unless you asked first

any time something changed with the camp, whether it was a part of the forest or the layout of the camp itself, he'd go with you to explore the differences to change the mental map you had in your head

late nights were reserved for sitting together around a campfire, maybe with grover and annabeth, maybe not

but they were a time for you to ask questions instead

what colour were the new swords? what does bronze look like? is the red of the strawberries as sweet as they taste?

he would answer as best he can, trying to explain from every angle, like trying not to use other colours to explain another colour

one night, in your fourth year of camp, you got up the courage to ask him the question you'd been wanting to ask him forever

"percy? what do i look like?"

there was a pause, and you knew he had turned to look at you by the rustling of his hair

...a minute passes, and you shift in your seat

"you don't have to tell me, it's fine, forget i asked-"

"no!"

he interrupts you, blurting out a protest a little louder than he intended

he continues, clearing his throat

"no, i just- would it be okay if you took your sunglasses off? so i can give you the best description?"

in answer, you slipped off your sunglasses, hanging them in the neck of your t-shirt

all you could see was a faint warm, orange-yellow glow from the fire

percy takes a breath

"okay, here goes- you're beautiful. i-i know that isn't much but... you look warm. like the feeling of coming back to our cabin at the end of a really good day, tired but happy, and everything is quiet and calm and cosy and you know you're gonna sleep so good. you look like sunsets over the sea, like someone has managed to set the horizon on fire but, y'know. less dangerous than setting fire to things."

you laugh, subconsciously leaning against his shoulder with your heart trying to keep pace with the butterflies in your stomach

"yeah? i look warm?"

his voice is almost a whisper

"right now, yeah. the firelight is reaching out over the grass to touch you, preferring to have you warm than the trees around us. if we were regular teenagers, we could be telling scary stories"

i rest my hand, palm up, on his knee, a silent way of telling him to give me his hand

he does so, and i link our fingers together tightly, a 'thank you' that we don't need to hear

"percy?"

"yeah?"

"what do you look like right now?"

another pause, and he squeezes my fingers gently

"i think... right now, i look like i'm completely in love with you"

my head lifts from his shoulder, head turned to him as if i need to hear him better, like we aren't side to side, holding hands

"you... what?"

he breathes a shaky laugh, and i feel his hand move to pause just over my cheek

"sorry, that wasn't a great description, but i couldn't think of anything else to say. can i put my hand on your cheek?"

slowly, i nod, feeling his warm palm settle against my skin, his thumb brushing over my cheek

"please say no if you don't want me to," he whispers, voice nervous but also filled with hope

"but can i please kiss you?"

i don't need to be able to see to know how big he smiles when i say "yes"

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

i hope that was okay? i tried my best, if anyone has an issue with it or wants me to correct something, let me know!

[octoooo]

Passing this along if you want to ~

Hello there! You've been tagged! You don't have to do anything if you don't want to, but if you'd like, list 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! Learn to know your mutuals and followers! 💖💖💖

This got long like the 10ft long super sub from Regular Show

Anyway

1) ART! Definitely any type of creative outlet but specifically drawing for me. Writing is yum too but seeing my finished product makes me happier than writing it lol. I had a love-hate relationship with almost all my fics as I wrote them <3

2) TUMBLR as odd as that may sound. I dunno how but it’s the site with the least amount of toxic people that I’ve seen* Of course toxicity exists here, but it’s not in my face (unlike TikTok and Twitter where it’s thrown in my face as soon as I log on) You ever read the comments on silly Sanegiyuu tiktoks? The creator & other fans of the ship get grilled alive, it’s awful.

(*specifically in my little demon slayer bubble. A good amount of ppl I interact with are 18+ but even those who aren’t seem mature)

Anyway Umblr is fun! And I love sharing everything my brain cooks up with cool people. 🫵🏾 🐙

3) Piggybacking off the last one, MUTUALS I LOVE YOU. We’re all a similar brand of Crazy when it comes to Demon Slayer & that’s pretty cool. Even if it’s not Demon Slayer related, I just like interacting.

Followers & mutuals I loaf you dearly <3

4) SPLATOON! Fucking love Splatoon I don’t think yall know just how much I adore this game. It’s fun to play, fun to draw, fun to think about lore-wise.

I think my favorite Splatoon fact is that the Octarians lost the Great Turf War only because their Octoweapons were unplugged.

Like

That’s hilarious. That’s genius. Weapon of mass Squid Destruction is stopped by their own plug. It’s like Dr. Doofenshmirtz putting a self destruct button on all his tech.

For all the devastating lore Splatoon has, it’s also very goofy.

5) DEVILMAN CRYBABYYYY! I watched it for the first time a few weeks ago and AAUGH IM HOOKED! All I can think about,,is the final scene with Ryo & Akira I—

Lmao anyway thanks for the ask! 10 people is a lot, but I’ll slip this sticky note ask into a few people’s lunchbox

[thinkinonsense]

call me if you're lonely⟡

old man!logan howlett x phone sex hotline worker!reader

cw: dirty talk, mutual masturbation

author's note: very short. just an idea that came to mind.

masterlist

this is so desperate, logan thought to himself as he dialed the number written on the fourth page in the second column. in pretty cursive words it read, call me if you're lonely!

your number had been living in the back of his head for almost a month now but he never got this close to calling it. in the column, it's written that you are a college student working on your masters degree and that you are very popular within your profession as a phone sex hotline worker. honestly, logan didn't care if you just started yesterday. he's been so stressed and overworked lately that he needs a release soon. logan waited as the phone rang after entering his card information. he's sat up on the old mattress under him, waiting patiently to see if anyone answers.

on the third ring, someone picks up.

"thanks for calling, hush hotline." you say, giving him the typical welcome speech before jumping straight in. "what would ya' like me to call you tonight, sugar?"

the sweet tone in your voice made logan's boxers feel tighter. resting his hand on top of his heavy cock, squeezing lightly and slowly stroking himself over the thin material.

"james is fine, honey." logan mutters.

"i like the way you call me, honey." you purr, getting relaxed in bed.

you had a long day; woke up late, missed class, messed up during important meeting at work and needed to blow off some steam. normally, the people you talk to over the phone don't have an effect on you, instead opting to fake it and offer phony pornstar like moans but something made you want to give it another shot.

"is that so?"

the stranger's voice was rough around the edges. deep, cold, straight to the point. it sent a shiver up your spine. usually, your customers were weak. willing to give into your every word and fully submit to you.

"mhm," you hum, lightly running your fingers up and down your thigh. "so, what's gotcha call in tonight, james? rough day at work or you just wanna hear me touch myself for you?"

"bit of both." he was already lost in this little world between the two of you.

“aw, can’t wait to make you feel good." you tell him, playing with the lace of your underwear. "wanna hear what i'm wearing right now?"

"mhm." he grunts.

"a white t-shirt and lacy blue underwear. wish you were here to take them off of me." you sigh, slipping your hand under the waistband.

"what would you do if i was there right now?"

"hmm, think i'd start by kissing you, making sure you get nice and hard for me then i would beg you to fuck my tight throat for hours. are you hard for me right now?"

"y-yes." logan sighs, trying to slow down a bit.

"that's sweet, james. got me blushing just thinkin' about it." you run your middle finger through your folds, gathering the slick and circling your button a couple times.

"just blushing?" he teases, catching you off guard.

"not 'just blushing'." you giggle softly. "you also got me r-really–ah, fuck! really soaked."

logan could hear the obscene squeak of you dipping your fingers inside of yourself. his chest moves up and down at the same rhythm as his strokes. your pretty little gasps made it difficult for him not to release right away.

"s-shit, honey." he groans, listening to the small wet slaps of you fucking yourself. "wanna taste that pussy of yours. i'm sure it's as sweet as that fuckin' mouth you got on you, honey."

never have you actually gotten wet from the men that call you. most of them let you do all the talking, only offering moans and whimpers. you couldn't quite place a finger on it but something about james was doing it for you.

"w-wish it was you inside of me instead of my fingers." you whine, tickling the spot that makes your vision blur.

"bet you would look so pretty wrapped around my cock, honey."

"i would look even prettier with you dripping out of me." faintly, you can hear him shuffling around, trying to stifle his groans. "don't hide yourself, baby. wanna hear you."

like a rubber band, something snapped inside of logan. unable to control his noises anymore, he's fucking his fist faster than before, chasing after every little moan you let out.

you move to rubbing your button switching occasionally, picturing the man that you believe james to be. a little older and rugged. maybe even someone your father would be friends with. someone you would definitely have a secret crush on.

logan's hips thrusted with need. the louder you got, the faster his orgasm was approaching. he had to hold off, he thought to himself. hear you cum first. by the broken whines and little hiccups you let out, he could tell you were only moments away from your release.

"f-fuck, i'm so close." you squeal, legs shaking a little as you near your high.

"me too, honey."

within seconds, your head is thrown back against the silky pillow case. the sheets under you were drenched but you were too full of bliss to care. logan finally allowed himself to let go as well, pearly white spurts coating his lower stomach and even some landing on his tank top. it's quiet for a minute or so before your little giggles can be heard on the other end of the line.

"something funny?" he asks, confused.

"no, no, it's just..." you giggle again with a sigh. "ever since i started this job, no one's ever made me orgasm. at least not like that."

"hm.." logan couldn't fight off the smile creeping on his face. "might need to call more often then."

"i'll be looking forward to it."

[pucksandpower]

Find Me Again

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)

Alexandria, 30 BC

The scorching Egyptian sun beats down on Alexandria as you hurry through the bustling streets, your sandals slapping against the warm stone. The air is thick with tension — whispers of Octavian’s approaching army have the city on edge. But your mind is elsewhere, focused on the stolen moments you’ll soon share with Lando.

You slip into a secluded alleyway, heart racing as you spot his familiar silhouette. Lando’s face lights up when he sees you, though worry creases his brow.

“There you are,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

You melt into his embrace, savoring his warmth. “I’m sorry I’m late. The palace has been in chaos with all the rumors flying about.”

Lando’s arms tighten around you. “It’s true then? Octavian draws near?”

You nod against his chest. “I fear so. Cleopatra grows more desperate by the day.”

He pulls back, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His dark eyes search yours intently. “Come away with me,” he pleads. “We can leave the city tonight, find passage on a ship bound for Greece or Cyprus.”

Your heart aches at the longing in his voice. “Lando, you know I can’t abandon my duty to the queen. She needs me now more than ever.”

“And what of my need for you?” Lando’s voice cracks with emotion. “Each day I’m torn between my loyalty to Rome and my love for you. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger when Octavian’s forces arrive.”

You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “My brave soldier,” you murmur. “Always trying to protect me. But I’ve survived far worse than regime changes. We’ll find a way through this, as we always do.”

Lando leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I wish I had your optimism. Every time I close my eyes, I see visions of you lying lifeless amidst the chaos of battle.”

A chill runs down your spine despite the oppressive heat. “Don’t speak of such things,” you chide gently. “We make our own fate, remember?”

He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. I just ... I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom. Promise me you’ll be careful, my love. Promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.”

“I promise,” you whisper, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.

Lando responds eagerly, drawing you closer as the kiss deepens. For a blissful moment, the world fades away and there is only the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.

A distant shout breaks the spell. You reluctantly pull away, both breathing heavily.

“I should go,” you murmur regretfully. “Cleopatra will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

Lando nods, though he doesn’t release you from his arms. “When can I see you again?”

You bite your lip, considering. “Three days from now, at sunset. Meet me by the lighthouse?”

“I’ll be there,” he vows solemnly. “Be safe, my love.”

With a final lingering kiss, you slip from his embrace and hurry back towards the palace. Your heart feels lighter despite the looming threats, buoyed by Lando’s love and the promise of your next rendezvous.

But fate, it seems, has other plans.

The next few days pass in a blur of mounting tension. Cleopatra grows increasingly erratic, oscillating between grandiose plans to seduce Octavian and talks of ending her own life. You do your best to comfort and counsel her, all while stealing moments to daydream about your upcoming meeting with Lando.

On the fated evening, you’re helping Cleopatra prepare for bed when she suddenly fixates on a basket of figs brought by a servant.

“Ah, how fitting,” she muses, a strange glint in her eye. “Did you know, my dear, that the Egyptians that came before us believed figs to be the fruit of the afterlife?”

A chill runs down your spine. “My queen?”

Cleopatra waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I was simply contemplating the cyclical nature of life and death. Come, help me into bed.”

You obey, tucking the sheets around her with practiced ease. As you turn to leave, her hand darts out to grasp your wrist.

“Stay with me a while longer,” she implores. “I find I cannot bear to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Your heart sinks, knowing you’ll miss your rendezvous with Lando. But duty wins out over desire. “Of course, my queen. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Hours pass as you sit by Cleopatra’s bedside, listening to her reminisce about better days. Just as your eyelids begin to grow heavy, a commotion in the hall startles you both fully awake.

“What’s happening?” Cleopatra demands, sitting up.

Before you can answer, the doors burst open and a breathless messenger stumbles in. “My queen,” he pants, “Octavian’s army has breached the city walls!”

Cleopatra’s face hardens. “So, the end has come at last.” She turns to you, her gaze intense. “Fetch me the asp.”

Your blood runs cold. “My queen, surely there must be another way-”

“Do not argue with me!” She snaps. “I will not be paraded through Rome as Octavian’s prize. Now go, quickly!”

With a heavy heart, you hurry to retrieve the venomous snake from its hidden chamber. Your hands shake as you return, presenting the basket to Cleopatra.

She reaches for it eagerly, but pauses. Her eyes meet yours, softening slightly. “My faithful friend,” she murmurs. “You have served me well. I release you from your duties. Go, find that Roman boy of yours and flee while you still can.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “You knew?”

Cleopatra’s lips quirk in a sad smile. “I’ve always known. Now go, before it’s too late.”

Torn between duty and desire, you hesitate. In that moment of indecision, everything changes.

Cleopatra reaches for the asp, but in her haste, she knocks the basket from your hands. The snake falls to the floor, immediately striking at the nearest target … you.

Pain explodes in your ankle as the asp’s fangs sink into your flesh. You cry out, stumbling backwards.

“No!” Cleopatra wails, lunging to catch you as you fall.

The world begins to spin as the venom courses through your veins. Your last coherent thought is of Lando, waiting faithfully by the lighthouse. As darkness closes in, you pray he’ll forgive you for breaking your promise.

Hours later, Lando fights his way through the chaos of the conquered city. He charges into the palace, heedless of the danger, desperate to find you.

When he bursts into Cleopatra’s chambers, his worst fears are realized. Two bodies lie motionless on the floor — the queen and beside her ...

“No,” he chokes out, falling to his knees beside your lifeless form. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lando gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as sobs wrack his body. “You promised,” he whispers brokenly. “You promised you’d stay safe.”

But promises, like empires, are so easily broken. As the sun rises on a new era for Egypt, it sets on this chapter of your shared story. Yet even as this life ends, the seeds of the next are already taking root, waiting to bloom in another time, another place.

For true love, like the mighty Nile, cannot be contained. It flows ever onward, carving new paths through the landscape of eternity.

Pompeii, 79 AD

The ground trembles beneath your feet as you race through the chaotic streets of Pompeii. Ash rains from the sky, coating everything in a ghostly gray shroud. All around, people scream and push, desperately seeking escape from the fury of Mount Vesuvius.

“Lando!” You call out, your voice hoarse from the acrid air. “Lando, where are you?”

A hand suddenly grabs your arm, yanking you into a narrow alleyway. You whirl around, ready to fight, only to find yourself face to face with Lando. His usually immaculate toga is torn and stained with soot, his dark curls matted with ash.

“Thank the gods,” he breathes, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “I thought I’d lost you in the crowd.”

You cling to him tightly, savoring his familiar warmth amidst the chaos. “We need to get out of the city,” you say urgently. “The mountain — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Lando nods grimly. “I know. I’ve been trying to make it to the harbor, but the roads are completely blocked. It’s madness out there.”

Another tremor rocks the ground, stronger than before. Pieces of masonry rain down from the surrounding buildings. Lando shields you with his body as you both press against the alley wall.

“We can’t stay here,” you say once the shaking subsides. “It’s not safe.”

“Nowhere is safe,” Lando replies, his eyes haunted. “But you’re right, we need to keep moving. Come on, I know another way to the docks.”

Hand-in-hand, you dash back out into the crowded street. The air grows thicker with each passing moment, making it harder to breathe. You pull the edge of your stola over your mouth and nose, squinting through the haze.

Lando leads you through a maze of side streets and back alleys, avoiding the worst of the panicked crowds. But with each turn, your hope dwindles. The mountain’s fury seems to be growing by the minute, raining down fire and ash with terrifying intensity.

As you round another corner, you come face to face with a wall of rubble blocking the entire street. Lando curses under his breath, pounding his fist against a fallen column.

“It’s no use,” he says, defeat creeping into his voice. “Every path to the harbor is cut off. We’re trapped.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll find somewhere to wait it out. The gods won’t abandon us. We just have to have faith.”

He turns to you, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Even in the face of certain doom.”

“One of us has to be,” you reply, managing a weak smile of your own.

Another violent tremor shakes the ground, nearly knocking you both off your feet. In the distance, you hear the ominous rumble of collapsing buildings.

“Quick, in here!” Lando shouts, pulling you towards a sturdy-looking stone building. You duck inside just as a fresh barrage of burning rocks pelts the street where you were standing moments ago.

As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you realize you’re in some kind of workshop. Half-finished statues and blocks of marble are scattered about, coated in a fine layer of ash that has sifted through the cracks.

“A sculptor’s studio,” Lando muses, running his hand along a nearby bust. “Rather fitting, don’t you think? To spend our last moments surrounded by art meant to outlast us all.”

You shoot him a reproachful look. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”

He sighs, pulling you close. “I admire your spirit, my love. But I fear this time, the Fates have other plans for us.”

As if to punctuate his words, the ground gives another violent lurch. The air grows even thicker, filled with choking dust and sulfurous fumes.

“It’s getting harder to breathe,” you gasp, fighting back a coughing fit.

Lando guides you to a relatively clear corner of the room, helping you sit on the floor before settling beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side.

“Just try to take shallow breaths,” he instructs, his own voice strained. “Like this, see?”

You nod, focusing on matching your breathing to his. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your labored breaths and the distant rumble of the mountain.

“Lando?” You whisper after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I’m scared.”

He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, love. I am too.”

“Tell me a story?” You ask, your voice small. “Like you used to, when we first met. Remember?”

Lando chuckles softly. “How could I forget? You were the most stubborn student I’ve ever had the misfortune of tutoring.”

“Hey!” You protest weakly, managing a smile despite everything. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh no?” He teases. “Who was it that insisted the Odyssey would be vastly improved if Odysseus had simply asked for directions?”

You laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a cough. “Well, it’s true! Twenty years to get home? Penelope should have moved on.”

Lando shakes his head in mock dismay. “Such disrespect for the classics. I clearly failed as your tutor.”

“Never,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “You taught me far more important things than dusty old stories.”

“Oh? And what might those be?”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You taught me what it means to truly love someone. To find a home not in a place, but in a person.”

Lando’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss you softly. “And you, my darling, taught me that life is meant to be lived, not just studied. You brought color to my world of scrolls and stone.”

Another tremor shakes the building, sending a fresh wave of dust raining down on you both. The air grows thicker, each breath a struggle.

“Lando,” you wheeze, gripping his hand tightly. “I don’t want to die.”

He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Promise you won’t leave me?” You plead, your vision starting to blur.

“Never,” he vows fiercely. “Not in this life or any other. Wherever our souls go next, we go together. I promise.”

You manage a weak nod, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. As consciousness begins to slip away, you’re struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Lando?” You murmur, your voice barely audible.

“Yes, love?”

“I think ... I think we’ve done this before.”

He lets out a shaky laugh. “What, died in each other’s arms while a volcano erupts? I think I’d remember that.”

You shake your head slightly. “No, not exactly. But this feeling ... like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’ll find each other again, no matter what.”

Lando is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Maybe we have. Maybe we will. I’d like to think so.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

As the world crumbles around you, you cling to each other. Your last thoughts are not of fear or regret, but of the love you share. A love so powerful it transcends time itself.

And as this chapter closes, another waits to begin. For some bonds are too strong to be broken, even by death. Your souls are destined to find each other again and again, weaving an eternal tapestry of love across the ages.

Salem, 1692

The air in the Salem courthouse is thick with tension and the bitter scent of fear. You stand before the assembled judges, your wrists bound tightly with rough rope that chafes your skin. The crowd of onlookers murmurs and shifts restlessly, their faces a sea of suspicion and barely concealed hostility.

Lando sits among them, his face a mask of anguish as he watches the proceedings. He wants nothing more than to rush to your side, to shield you from the madness that has gripped the town. But he knows that any show of support would only damn you further in the eyes of the court.

Judge Hathorne’s voice rings out, silencing the whispers. “The accused will step forward.”

You take a shaky step, raising your chin defiantly despite the terror coursing through your veins.

“You stand accused of witchcraft and consorting with the devil,” Hathorne intones gravely. “How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” you declare, your voice stronger than you feel. “I am no witch, merely a midwife and herbalist. I have done nothing but help this community.”

A snort of derision comes from the crowd. You turn to see Goodwife Putnam, her face twisted with malice. “Lies!” She shrieks. “I saw her dancing naked in the woods, consorting with dark spirits!”

“That’s not true!” You protest. “I was gathering herbs for my remedies, nothing more!”

Judge Hathorne raises an eyebrow. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on the night in question?”

Your heart sinks. You had been alone that night, as you often were when foraging. “I ... I was alone, your honor. But I swear on all that is holy, I am no witch.”

A ripple of whispers sweeps through the crowd. Lando’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tight with the effort of remaining silent.

“Very convenient,” Hathorne remarks dryly. “Goody Putnam, you may continue with your testimony.”

The woman stands, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that chills you to the bone. “I’ve seen her speaking to animals as if they could understand her. And just last week, my cow’s milk turned sour the very day after she visited our farm!”

“That’s ridiculous!” You exclaim. “Milk spoils, it’s a natural occurrence. And I often speak to animals, as do many others. It does not make me a witch!”

But your protests fall on deaf ears. One by one, your neighbors step forward with increasingly outlandish accusations. Every misfortune, every unexplained event is laid at your feet.

“She cursed my crops!”

“My child fell ill after eating her bread!”

“I saw her flying on a broomstick!”

The claims grow more absurd, but the judges nod solemnly at each one. You feel the noose of suspicion tightening around your neck with each passing moment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Lando leaps to his feet. “This is madness!” He shouts. “You’re condemning an innocent woman based on nothing but gossip and superstition!”

All eyes turn to him. Judge Danforth fixes him with a steely glare. “Master Norris, you will remain silent or be removed from this courtroom.”

“I will not be silent while you murder an innocent woman!” Lando retorts. He turns to the crowd, imploring them. “Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re tearing our community apart with these baseless accusations!”

A murmur of uncertainty ripples through the onlookers. For a moment, you dare to hope that reason might prevail.

But then Abigail Williams, one of the young girls at the center of the witch hunt, lets out a blood-curdling shriek. She points a trembling finger at you. “Her specter! I see her specter tormenting me even now!”

The other girls quickly join in, writhing and screaming as if in the throes of possession. The courtroom erupts into chaos.

“Order!” Judge Hathorne bellows, pounding his gavel. “Order in the court!”

As the commotion dies down, he turns to you, his expression grave. “The evidence against you is overwhelming. Unless you confess and repent, I have no choice but to find you guilty of witchcraft.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You know that a confession might spare your life, but it would mean living a lie. And worse, it would lend credence to the madness gripping Salem.

“I will not confess to crimes I did not commit,” you say quietly but firmly. “I am innocent before God and man.”

Judge Hathorne’s face hardens. “Then you leave us no choice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul.”

The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and shocked gasps. Lando’s anguished cry rises above the din. “No! You can’t do this!”

He rushes towards you, but is quickly restrained by two burly constables. “Let me go!” He shouts, struggling against their grip. “She’s innocent!”

Your eyes meet his across the chaotic courtroom. Despite everything, you manage a small, sad smile. “It’s alright, Lando,” you call out. “Be strong. This isn’t your fault.”

As the guards move to lead you away, Lando breaks free and rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes wild with desperation. “I’ll find a way to stop this,” he vows. “I won’t let them take you.”

You lean into his touch, memorizing the feel of his hands on your skin. “There’s nothing you can do, my love. Promise me you’ll stay safe. Don’t let them take you too.”

“I can’t lose you,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face.

“You won’t,” you whisper fiercely. “Not really. I don’t know how I know this, but I swear we’ll find each other again. In another life, another time. This isn’t the end for us.”

The guards roughly pull you apart. As they drag you away, you keep your eyes locked on Lando’s, drawing strength from his gaze.

The next few days pass in a blur of fear and desperate prayer. You cling to the strange certainty that had come over you in the courtroom — that somehow, someway, this is not truly the end for you and Lando.

On the day of your execution, you walk to the gallows with your head held high. The crowd that has gathered is subdued, some already beginning to question the justice of what’s happening.

You scan the faces, searching for Lando, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Your heart aches at his absence, but you understand. It would be too painful for him to watch.

As the noose is placed around your neck, you close your eyes and think of Lando. Of his laugh, his gentle touch, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hold onto these memories as the world falls away beneath your feet.

Your last conscious thought is a promise — to find him again, no matter how long it takes.

Miles away, hidden in the woods, Lando feels the exact moment you leave this world. He collapses to his knees, a wordless cry of anguish tearing from his throat. But even in his grief, he feels the echo of your final promise.

“I’ll find you,” he whispers to the uncaring forest. “In this life or the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”

And so another chapter closes, the threads of your shared destiny stretching onward through time. The cycle continues, each life bringing you closer to the moment when you’ll finally break free of this endless dance of death and rebirth.

Yekaterinburg, 1918

The Ipatiev House looms dark and foreboding in the Yekaterinburg night. You pace the confines of your makeshift prison, the once-opulent rooms now a stark reminder of how far the mighty Romanovs have fallen. The sound of raised voices and heavy footsteps from the floor below sends a chill down your spine.

“They’re coming,” your sister Maria whispers, her eyes wide with fear.

Before you can respond, the door bursts open. A group of armed men file in, their faces grim and purposeful. Your heart nearly stops when you spot a familiar face among them.

“Lando?” You gasp, scarcely able to believe your eyes.

He meets your gaze, his expression a turbulent mix of emotions. “Grand Duchess,” he says stiffly, the formal title at odds with the intimate moments you’ve shared in secret.

“What’s happening?” You demand, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Why are you here?”

Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of the house, steps forward. “The Ural Soviet has decided to execute the Romanov family,” he announces coldly. “You are to be moved to the basement immediately.”

A wave of terror washes over you. “No,” you breathe. “No, this can’t be happening.”

Your eyes lock with Lando’s, silently pleading. For a moment, you see the conflict raging behind his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he looks away.

As the guards begin herding your family towards the stairs, you manage to maneuver closer to Lando. “How could you be part of this?” You hiss under your breath.

His jaw clenches. “The revolution demands sacrifices,” he mutters. “Even from those we ... care about.”

“Care about?” You repeat incredulously. “Is that all I am to you now? After everything we’ve shared?”

A flicker of pain crosses his face. “You know it’s more complicated than that. Your family’s rule has caused immeasurable suffering. This ... this is justice.”

“Murder is not justice,” you retort, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

Before he can respond, you’re roughly pushed forward. The journey to the basement is a blur of terror and disbelief. Your mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this nightmare.

In the dank cellar, Yurovsky instructs your family to line up against the wall. You find yourself between your younger siblings, instinctively trying to shield them even as your own knees threaten to give out.

“Wait,” you cry out as Yurovsky raises his hand to signal the firing squad. “Please, spare the children at least. They’re innocent in all this!”

Yurovsky’s face remains impassive. “There can be no Romanov heirs left to rally around. The old regime must end here and now.”

You turn to Lando, making one last desperate appeal. “Lando, please. If what we had meant anything to you, don’t let this happen. Help us!”

For a moment, you see the Lando you knew — the passionate young man who spoke of creating a better world, who held you under the stars and whispered promises of a future together. But then the revolutionary mask slips back into place.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely audible. “But this is bigger than us.”

As the soldiers raise their weapons, time seems to slow. You think of all the lives you might have lived — the futures now forever lost to you. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, as if you’ve faced death with Lando before.

“Ready!” Yurovsky’s voice cuts through your reverie.

You straighten your spine, determined to face your end with dignity. Your eyes find Lando’s one last time.

“Aim!”

“I forgive you,” you mouth silently, even as tears stream down your face.

You see Lando’s composure crack, anguish flooding his features. He takes a half-step forward, as if to intervene, but it’s too late.

“Fire!”

The basement erupts in a deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams. You feel a searing pain in your chest as bullets tear through you. As you crumple to the ground, your fading vision fixates on Lando’s horrified face.

With your last breath, you whisper, “Find me again.”

Then darkness claims you.

Lando stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from your lifeless form. The smokey smell of gunpowder mixes with the metallic scent of blood, turning his stomach.

“Finish them off,” Yurovsky orders dispassionately. “No survivors.”

As his comrades move forward with bayonets, Lando stumbles back, retching. He staggers up the stairs and out into the cool night air, gulping it down desperately.

What has he done?

He’d believed so fervently in the revolution, in the need to sweep away the old order to build a better world. But staring at his blood-stained hands, Lando feels nothing but horror and soul-crushing guilt.

Your final words haunt him. “Find me again.” But how can he, when he’s destroyed any chance of a future together?

As dawn breaks over Yekaterinburg, Lando makes a decision. He can’t undo what’s been done, but he can ensure the truth isn’t buried along with your body.

Over the coming weeks, as the Bolsheviks spread lies about your family’s fate, Lando works in secret to document what really happened. He gathers evidence, writes detailed accounts, and arranges for the information to be smuggled out of the country.

It’s a dangerous game. If caught, he’ll be branded a traitor to the revolution. But Lando no longer cares about ideology or politics. His only goal is to honor your memory and ensure that history remembers the truth.

Late one night, as he prepares to flee the country with his damning documents, Lando allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He thinks of your smile, your compassion, the way you challenged him to see beyond his rigid beliefs.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to the empty room. “I failed you in this life. But I swear, somehow, I’ll make it right. If there’s any justice in the universe, we’ll meet again. And next time, I’ll protect you. I’ll choose you over everything else.”

As he slips out into the night, Lando feels a strange sense of certainty. This isn’t the end of your story. Somehow, someway, you’ll find each other again.

The wheel of fate continues to turn, carrying your intertwined souls towards yet another lifetime. But with each cycle, the bond between you grows stronger. Perhaps next time, you’ll finally break free of this tragic pattern and find the happiness that’s eluded you for so long.

Jonestown, 1978

The humid Guyanese air hangs heavy over Jonestown, thick with tension and the cloying scent of tropical flowers. You stand among the gathered crowd, your heart pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest. Beside you, Lando’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.

“This isn’t right,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the droning speech coming from the pavilion. “We need to get out of here.”

You nod imperceptibly, not daring to speak. Jim Jones’ paranoid ravings have reached a fever pitch in recent days, and you both know that even the slightest hint of dissent could be deadly.

“My children,” Jones’ voice booms out over the loudspeakers, “the time has come for us to make our final stand against the oppressors who seek to destroy our paradise.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. You scan the sea of faces, seeing a mix of blind devotion and barely concealed terror.

“Our Congressional visitors have betrayed us,” Jones continues, his words slurring slightly. “They will bring nothing but destruction. We have no choice but to enact our glorious revolutionary suicide.”

Your blood runs cold. You’d heard whispers of this plan, but had desperately hoped it was just another of Jones’ manipulative tactics.

“Lando,” you whisper urgently, “we have to run. Now.”

He nods, his face pale but determined. “Follow my lead. When I give the signal, we make a break for the jungle.”

But before you can move, you feel a vice-like grip on your arm. You turn to see your mother, her eyes wild with fervor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She hisses. “This is our moment of triumph. You will not ruin it with your lack of faith.”

On Lando’s other side, his father has a similar hold on him. The older man’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, son,” he says quietly.

You watch in horror as Jones’ lieutenants begin distributing paper cups filled with a sinister purple liquid. The bitter almond smell of cyanide fills the air.

“No,” you breathe, struggling against your mother’s grip. “Mom, please. This is insanity. We don’t have to do this!”

But your pleas fall on deaf ears. Your mother’s grip only tightens as she accepts two cups from a passing aide.

“Drink,” she commands, thrusting one towards you.

You shake your head vehemently, clamping your mouth shut. Beside you, Lando is engaged in a similar struggle with his father.

“You can’t force us to do this!” Lando shouts, drawing the attention of nearby cult members. “This is murder!”

Jones’ voice cuts through the growing commotion. “Those who resist are traitors to our cause. They must be made to comply, for the good of all.”

Suddenly, you’re surrounded by a group of Jones’ most fanatical followers. Rough hands grab you, forcing your head back. You struggle wildly, but it’s no use. You feel the cold rim of the cup pressed against your lips.

“No!” Lando cries out, fighting to reach you. “Leave her alone!”

But he too is overwhelmed, multiple hands restraining him as the poisoned drink is forced upon him.

The sickly-sweet liquid burns your throat as it’s poured into your mouth. You choke and splutter, but can’t prevent some of it from going down. Beside you, Lando’s muffled cries tell you he’s suffering the same fate.

As the hands release you, you collapse to your knees, coughing violently. Your vision swims, the world taking on a surreal, nightmarish quality.

“Lando,” you gasp, reaching out blindly.

His hand finds yours, gripping it weakly. “I’m here,” he manages, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”

You crawl closer, fighting against the growing weakness in your limbs. All around, people are collapsing, some screaming in agony while others slip away in eerie silence.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, cupping Lando’s face with a trembling hand. “We never stood a chance against this madness.”

Lando’s eyes, clouded with pain, meet yours. “This can’t be how it ends,” he says desperately. “Not again.”

A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. “Again?” You murmur, confused.

He nods weakly. “I don’t know how, but I feel like we’ve been here before. Facing death together, unable to stop it.”

As the poison works its way through your system, flashes of other lives flicker through your mind. Ancient Egypt, Pompeii, Salem, Russia — each time, finding each other only to be torn apart.

“I remember,” you breathe, wonder mingling with the pain. “We keep finding each other, but we never get our happy ending.”

Lando pulls you closer, both of you shaking with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. “Next time,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “Next time we’ll break this cycle. We’ll find a way to be together.”

You manage a small, sad smile. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he murmurs, pressing a weak kiss to your forehead.

As consciousness begins to slip away, you cling to each other. The sounds of screaming and Jones’ maniacal laughter fade into the background. In these final moments, there is only you and Lando, and the love that has somehow endured across lifetimes.

“Find me again,” you whisper, echoing words spoken in another life.

Lando’s grip on your hand tightens fractionally. “Always,” he breathes.

As darkness closes in, you’re filled with a strange sense of hope. This tragic cycle can’t go on forever. Someday, somehow, you’ll find a way to break free and finally have the life together you’ve been denied so many times.

Your last thought, as you slip away, is a prayer to whatever cosmic force keeps bringing you together.

Next time, let it be different.

Next time, let us live.

And as your souls depart this tragic scene, unseen wheels of fate begin to turn once more. The cycle continues, but perhaps this time, with the weight of so many shared lifetimes behind you, you’ll finally find your way to a happier ending.

In the years that follow, as the horror of Jonestown is revealed to the world, two names are lost among the hundreds of victims. But your story — the story of a love that refuses to be extinguished — lives on, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

Monaco, 2024

The soft glow of computer screens illuminates Lando’s face as he leans into his microphone, his eyes darting between the chat and his game. “No, chat, I’m not going to sing the Baby Shark song,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You lot are absolutely mental, you know that?”

The door to his streaming room creaks open, and he glances over, his face softening into a warm smile as you pad in, wrapped in an oversized hoodie you’ve stolen from his wardrobe.

“Speaking of sharks,” Lando grins, addressing his audience, “look who’s decided to join us. It’s my favorite cuddly shark!”

You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, a reference to your habit of playfully nipping at his shoulder when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. As you approach, Lando pushes his chair back slightly, making room for you to settle onto his lap.

“Come here, you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist as you curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. To his stream, he explains, “Sorry chat, the missus is feeling a bit clingy tonight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

You mumble something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. “What was that, love? The stream can’t hear you when you’re trying to become one with my neck.”

Lifting your head slightly, you repeat, “I said, don’t let me interrupt your gaming. I just wanted cuddles.”

Lando presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re never an interruption. Besides, I think the chat���s been asking for a cameo from you all night.”

You turn to face the camera, waving sleepily. “Hi, chat. Sorry I’m not more entertaining tonight. Long day at work.”

The chat explodes with greetings and well-wishes, scrolling by almost too fast to read. Lando chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze. “See? They love you. Probably more than they love me, to be honest.”

“That’s fair,” you murmur, nuzzling back into his neck. “No one loves you more than I do.”

Lando’s breath catches for a moment, and you feel his heart rate pick up. Even after all this time together, simple declarations of love still affect him deeply. It’s one of the many things you adore about him.

“Alright, chat,” Lando says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “You’ve gone and made her all sappy. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”

You can’t help but giggle at his attempt to deflect. “Oh please, you love it when I’m sappy.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with a grin. “But if I admit that, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”

You snort inelegantly. “What reputation? Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”

“Oi!” Lando protests, poking you in the side and making you squirm. “I’ll have you know I’m very tough and manly. Right, chat?”

The stream erupts with a mix of agreement and playful disagreement, peppered with emotes and inside jokes. You watch the scrolling text with amusement, marveling at the community Lando has built.

“See?” Lando says triumphantly. “They agree with me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at least half of those messages were sarcastic, babe.”

Lando waves a hand dismissively. “Details, details. The point is, I’m incredibly macho and not at all a softie.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. “Is that why you cried watching Up last week?”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s classified information, that is. You can’t just go revealing my secrets to the entire internet!”

The chat goes wild at this revelation, demanding to know more about Lando’s movie-watching habits. You can’t help but laugh at his mock-outraged expression.

“Sorry, love,” you say, not sounding sorry at all. “But if I have to put up with your sniffling during Disney movies, the least I can do is share the joy with your fans.”

Lando groans dramatically. “That’s it, I’m filing for divorce. Chat, you’re my witnesses. This is grounds for divorce, right? Revealing a man’s most intimate vulnerabilities?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “We’re not even married yet, you goof.”

The words slip out before you can think better of them, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifts. Lando’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze locking with yours.

“Yet?” He repeats softly, a note of wonder in his voice.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away. “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you had other plans?”

For a moment, Lando seems to forget entirely about the stream. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “No other plans,” he murmurs. “Just you. Always you.”

The intimacy of the moment is broken by the chat exploding once again, this time with a flurry of ring emotes and excited keysmashes. Lando blinks, seeming to remember where he is.

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, chat, I think that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Got some, uh, important things to discuss with this one.”

You bury your face in his neck again, half embarrassed and half thrilled by the turn of events. As Lando rushes through his usual sign-off, you can feel the barely contained energy thrumming through him.

The moment the stream ends, Lando spins his chair to face you fully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Did you mean that?” He asks eagerly. “About the marriage thing?”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course I did. Lando, I’ve loved you for lifetimes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”

Something flashes in his eyes at your words — a fleeting moment of recognition, as if some long-buried memory is struggling to surface. But then it’s gone, replaced by pure joy.

“Lifetimes, huh?” He grins, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I suppose we better make this one count.”

As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness. After so many tragic endings, you’ve finally found your happily ever after. And this time, you’re not letting go.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips. “In this life and every other.”

Lando’s answering smile is radiant. “And I love you. Always have, always will.”

As you lose yourselves in each other’s embrace, the echoes of past lives fade away. This is your time, your chance at happiness. And you plan to make the most of every single moment.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Ateez & Their Favorite Part of Their Chubby Gf's Body ♡

♡ A/N: This one (as with anything I do tbh) is for my chubby babes out there so I hope you enjoy it my darlings. Make sure to check the warnings under the break. Love you to pieces - xoxo your chubby godmother

♡ Pairing: ot8!ateez x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.5k-ish total

♡ Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), swallowing, nibbling, kissing, marking, spanking, doggystyle, nipple play, tit sucking, dry humping, riding, manhandling, some dom vibes, rough sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, hair grabbing, mirror sex

♡ Hongjoong ♡

Hongjoong loves your body, that isn’t even a question, but the first thing he noticed about you was that pretty face of yours and that’ll never stop being his absolute favorite thing about you. You have the sort of eyes he could get lost in forever and a smile that gives him butterflies every time he looks at you. Don’t even get him started on how kissable your cheeks are. They’re always so soft and fluffy, especially when his cock’s buried between them, your glossy lips wrapped around his thickness as your head rocks up and down his length. He likes to stroke your cheeks while you look up at him, feeling them flutter around him, your tongue squirming against the throbbing veins of his cock. Nothing’s hotter to him than seeing your cheeks get even fluffier when they’re all filled up with his cum right before you swallow him down like the good girl that you are. 

♡ Seonghwa ♡

Seonghwa has made such a habit of tracing your stretch marks with his fingertips that it’s become a mindless act at this point. You’ll never have to feel shy or ashamed when you discover new ones because he finds them beautiful. It’s to the point where he doesn’t even need to have his eyes on them to know they’re there. On days when you’re feeling a little insecure he likes to take you into the bedroom and bend you over right in front of the full length mirror. He’ll grab your hair, not letting you take your eyes off of your teary eyed reflection for a second. Not only does he want you to see how you take his cock better than anyone else ever has. He wants you to see how hot those stretch marks look riding your curves. He whispers words of praise to you that only make your nipples stiffer and your pussy wetter. By the end of it all you’re leaking enough to make a little puddle on the floor and you’ve cum so hard you can barely talk but you feel like the hottest girl in the world. 

♡ San ♡

San’s been staring at your ass all day. It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing the tightest dress possible or a loose fitting pair of sweatpants. He knows what a perfect ass you have and anytime it's in his line of vision he gets the irresistible urge to touch it. That’s why he has to do everything not to cum too soon when you’re bent over in front of him, your knees buried in the mattress and your ass poked up in the air begging him to spank it. The recoil the first time he thrusts his cock into you is enough to make him drool. Your ass jiggles so wonderfully when he fucks you like this, your walls clamping down around him each time he slaps your ass to tell you how well you’re taking him. The sound of his palms snapping against your skin is so heavenly. The only thing better is digging his fingers into your plush ass when you’re both about to cum. It feels so soft and warm beneath his touch that he doesn’t want to let go. 

♡ Yeosang ♡

Yeosang never lets you think for one second that you were too big to get on top. He loves to grab you by those plush hips and pick you up. The perfect place to set you down is always in his lap, kissing you hungrily while you ride his cock. Your hips are so soft and full, the perfect thing to squish during sleepy morning sex when neither of you are in a rush to get anywhere and you’re riding him slowly, savoring the feeling of his length throbbing deep within your pussy. Your hips are also perfect for when he wants to get more dominant, that extra cushion letting him grab you as hard as you like while he manhandles you. With his hands controlling your hips every move you make is under his control. He can keep you right where he wants you, pounding his cock harder and deeper into a pussy that’s just so dripping and needy that he can’t stop. Afterwards he’ll always massage your hips, still keeping a hold on them as you come down from your high, your soft body cuddled up to his.

♡ Jongho ♡

Jongho pretends that he doesn’t like to cuddle but you know better than anyone else what a lie that is. His favorite thing to do is to lay in bed with his arms wrapped around your curvy figure and his head resting on your pillowy breasts. On rare occasions it’s enough to put him to sleep but those occasions are very rare. More often than not he finds himself trailing kisses across your cleavage, his bulge rubbing against your leg as his tongue dips between your breasts, tickling the sensitive skin. It gets him even harder when you aren’t wearing a bra and he can freely take handfuls of your breasts, rolling your stiff buds between his fingertips while hushed moans dance from your lips. He kisses them through your clothes at first, teasing your nipples through your thin shirt until the material’s damp. The second your shirt’s pushed up, your breasts bouncing free, his lips are wrapped around your buds, licking and sucking them to the point that your panties are drenched and you’re silently begging him to fuck you. 

♡ Yunho ♡

Yunho doesn’t care what you call them. Love handles, rolls, whatever. Call them what you like as long as you remember that he’s such a sucker for them. There’s no need for shapewear or only putting on clothes that hide them. Yunho wants them on full display. In fact, it’s best when you’re in nothing but a bra or completely naked so that his large hands can spend all the time they want exploring your body, worshiping your love handles with his touch so that you feel just how sexy he finds them. It’s so hot for him when you’re laying side by side, one of your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock inching into you as his hands ride up and down your form. This way he can grip your sides tighter, tilting you back to drill into your sweet spot at the perfect angle. Or he can wrap his arms around you completely, keeping you so close to him that he can feel every single detail of your pussy as you clench him so tightly, your juices leaking down his cock, making a total mess of the both of you. 

♡ Wooyoung ♡

Wooyoung is feral for your thighs. It’s especially bad when the two of you are at home and you decide to walk around in nothing but your panties, your delicious thighs on full display just ready to be praised. He’s on you in no time, pinning you down on the bed or the couch to kiss and nibble on them until he hears you letting out those cute little giggles that he loves so much. It never stops there though. The kisses always deepen until his tongue’s running along your smooth skin, leaving hickeys behind as he suckles at your tender flesh. Before you know it his fingers have found their way between your thighs, tugging your soaked panties to the side to play with your plump clit, his tongue at the ready to lap at your juices. He’ll spend as long as he can like this, his tongue buried inside of you, your thighs wrapped around his neck, eating you out until you’re gushing all over. Once you're spent, he takes the initiative to clean you up. Every single time it’s with his tongue and he won’t stop until he’s tasted every bit of you.  

♡ Mingi ♡

Mingi has such a thing for your belly that it’s not even funny. It’s better than any plushie in the world when it comes to comforting him when he’s stressed or just giving him something nice to cozy up to. This man will take every opportunity available to squish your belly and is super vocal with you about how much he adores it. It doesn’t matter to him if you gain a little weight, that only means that your belly will be even softer to touch and kiss in whichever position he chooses. Mingi’s always had his kinks but being with you has led to the discovery of a new one. After you’ve cum—and he always makes sure you cum first—he likes to rub the leaky tip of his cock through your slick folds, arousal dripping down your perky clit as he strokes his cock over top of you. His eyes are glued to your twitchy little pussy, your belly just bouncing against the head. Once he’s right at the edge he likes to move up to your belly, tapping his cock against it to watch it jiggle so beautifully as hot, white ropes of his seed spill all over you.

[dollfacefantasy]

wearing leon's hoodie during sex… he’s fucking u from behind and pushes the hoodie up to reveal your back… he grabs the top of the hoodie for leverage, and to pull you closer…

uh huh uh huh. i see your vision so here's a little drabble <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

It starts when Leon comes home from running some errands. He's kind of riled up. There was traffic, it was too cold out, there was people everywhere, and it seemed like he was the only one who knew what he was doing. He slams the front door and tosses his keys on the counter, letting out an irritated sigh and stomping up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

But there you are. His baby. Tucked away safe from the rest of the world. His beam of sunshine among the gray clouds that pollute the sky today.

You're laying on the bed, curled up with a blanket and gazing at the tv with only half your attention. Long legs lie exposed, soft from the strawberry scented lotion you'd lathered them in. Best of all, you're wearing his hoodie. An article of his clothing.

He tries to be casual about getting what he wants. He attempts pleasantries, acts like the shedding of his clothes is innocent. He's only doing it to be comfy enough to join you in your lazy day.

Not even thirty minutes later though, you're face down, head pressed to the pillow, ass raised in the air. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he sheaths himself all the way inside you. You whine as your hole stretches around his length, accepting the intrusion. Your fingers claw at the fluffy blanket beneath you as he starts thrusting.

In and out, back and forth. It seems like each time he hits a new pleasure spot or coaxes another needy whine from your lips.

"That's right, baby. Feels so good, doesn't it?" he grunts as he pumps his cock as deep as it can go within you.

"Mhm," you whimper your voice shaky.

"Uh huh," he agrees. The sound of him panting combined with the slap of his skin on yours overwhelms your brain. "Who's fucking you this good, honey? Who's got you making all those cute little noises?"

The response is automatic. "You," you choke out as your body rocks with his momentum.

"Who?" he prompts you, wanting specificity.

Your words falter for a moment under the pressure of him rutting into your soaked cunt, but you regain the ability to speak before he could ask again.

"Leon," you whine, dragging out the ending sound.

He mumbles some words of praise, but they fly right over your head. His thoughts weren't on what he was saying either. He was much more focused on hearing you cry out his name while his eyes locked on the space between your shoulder blades.

On the fabric of the hoodie in that area, Kennedy was emblazoned in vinyl. It stood out in bright white on the soft black cloth. You were his. There was the physical and verbal proof. He pistons into you at a quicker speed as the primal part of his brain starts to take over. The part that just wanted to claim you and keep you as his own held the reins now.

Your eyes start to gloss up as thoughts melt away in your brain and drip from your mouth as drool. Your cheek squishes further into the mattress below. Everything is getting to that point where it feels fuzzy and far away. And you're content with that. You're content to just melt into a puddle of euphoria on the bed, but Leon had other ideas for you.

He bunches the hood of his hoodie together, handling it like he would a leash. Then with a firm tug, you're straight up on your knees. Your back is arched so your ass is flush against his pelvis while your head bobbles around near his.

"Oh fuck, baby..." you cry, "So fucking deep now."

He chuckles and yanks you even closer. The new angle did have him even further within you. If it wasn't for his hand supporting you, there was no doubt in your mind you'd flop forward and face plant into the memory foam.

His hips snap as though they're possessed, not stopping for the slightest break. Both of you are starting to work up a sweat, you a little more so from the thick fabric that covered your upper half.

"Mhm. All the way inside you. And I'm the only one who's ever gonna feel this," he mumbles.

"Only you," you agree without a second thought.

You can't speak anymore than that because your voice has devolved into pure moaning. Soft little cries of ecstasy leave you over and over as he fills you up just as many times.

"Want you to cum for me, baby. Milk me fucking dry so I can mark you on the inside too," he mutters.

And that's all it takes really. The thought of being claimed so thoroughly does it for you, and you seize up on command. Every part of you contracts and tightens up, including your pussy, locking him in.

That's what does it for him. The knowledge that you want to be claimed, that you love that you're all his. He shoots all his release inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.

Afterwards, he takes care to clean you up, actually ask about your day while he gets you comfy again. The sweat-soaked hoodie ends up in the laundry, and the two of you curl up in bed, together this time. If he didn't get off on the possessive part of this whole thing so much, he'd probably just buy you one of those hoodies for yourself. You were gonna be a Kennedy in no time anyways.

[shotmrmiller]

soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

-

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

-

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

--

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

[written-in-flowers]

Her Pretty Lords: Sanhwajoong x Fem!Reader

Pairing: incubi!demonline x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 18k

Summary: A summons from a princess has the demons of Black Keep shaking in their boots. A person from the past comes back into YN's life, and she wonders if she'd truly lived in the living world.

Tags: dominate/submissive themes, polyamorous relationship, mentions of abuse/rape/domestic violence/illness, talks about misogyny and misandry, lost families, carriage sex, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, nipple play, breast play, foursome (m/m/m/f), oral sex, rough oral sex, vaginal fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, pet names (bitch, slut, whore, kitten, darling, pet), light degradation, fingers in mouth, light spanking, creampie, unprotected sex, overstimulation, some squirting, facials, cumming in mouth, choking, biting,

Pretty Lady Masterlist

Previously on Pretty Lady

Next

***

“It’s a beautiful day here in His Majesty’s city. This is your host, Beezee, bringing you the greatest hits this morning! Totally wicked news just came into the Hot Spot, and it is piping hot! A few little Imps have been talking and they say a new cambion has entered our massive royal family! We here at The Hot Spot want to personally welcome lovely Lady YN, Marchioness of the Trees and a Lady of Eden! Princess Lilith must be thrilled to hav-”

“WHAT?!”

It was not her mother’s voice that stunned Andromeda into silence. It was the name. Your name. The vision of a little girl with dirt on her hands and under her fingernails came to mind. Her heart tore itself to pieces at the memories: baking cupcakes after school, snuggling on the couch during prime-time television, singing in the garden and dancing in the living room. Her pride. Her joy. The sole reason she’d stayed in the living world made her way to the burning city of Inferno. Andromeda did not know whether to be weeping from joy or sorrow. She knew this day might’ve come, but not like this. 

“Andromeda!” 

Her mother’s shrill cry cut through the garden walls. Long gone were the days she feared Lilith’s wrath. Andromeda, in her dress of pale pink muslin, left her garden patch for the pebbled paths of Lilith’s Garden. She passed several of her “sisters”, who gave her cautious glances before turning away. Andromeda knew better than to keep a child secret from her mother. She knew no matter what transpired between them, her mother would welcome any child of hers with open arms. But, she did not want this life for you. She wanted you to be free and untethered from traditions or expectations. Even when you severed yourself from her, she let you live as you wanted. It broke her heart, but at least you were free. 

Andromeda appeared in the archway to her mother’s private garden. In an enclosed circular space, her mother sat playing cards with her sisters, Gaia and Rhea. All three women wore the flowing gowns and floral headpieces typical of Ladies of Eden, but Lilith stood out. Long black hair tumbling down her back, her curved horns reached far behind her and her piercing crimson eyes set her apart from the glowing beauties she’d birthed. Daughters of Lilith did not resemble the common demons in the city and circles: a warm glow radiated around them, bringing life rather than death, and were the finest creatures in existence. Andromeda knew you’d be as beautiful as her when she had you, and she’d been right. 

“Yes, Mother?” Andromeda said, standing there looking strong and firm. 

“Do you care to explain this?” 

In her hand, Andromeda saw an official paper. Her stomach flopped over and over seeing it. She moved forward and read it herself, her suspicions proven true. Yes, you had come to Inferno. Yes, someone did discover who and what you were. Hot tears stuck in her lashes as she reread your name. Her special girl. Her honey cake. 

“Andromeda, explain yourself, now.” 

“What is there to explain, Mother?” she asked, reading your death date. “I had a child and didn’t tell you.”

She remembered that day with a heavy heart. She’d gotten the call from a nurse in the hospital, telling her you'd been admitted. Being your mother, she rushed right there with hopes of saving you, but she came too late. Never did the world feel so cold or be so dark as it did then. With her precious girl gone, Andromeda saw no reason to remain in the living world. She came back home where she made amends with her family. She hoped you never came to Inferno. She hoped you managed to turn your life around, become a good person, and be accepted into Paradise. Big dreams, she knew, but she dreamed them. 

“Tell me why,” her mother demanded coldly. “Why would you keep such a thing from your family? From me? I thought we had moved past childish secrets.”

“I kept her a secret for the same reason I left to begin with.”

Lilith scoffed, “I learned my lesson with you, Andromeda. I would have let your little cambion roam free beyond Eden. I wouldn't want to lose another daughter.” 

Her sisters told her about their mother’s anguish. They told her Her Highness cried for months after she left. Lilith received very few things when Inferno was first founded. She was Lucifer’s only true-born daughter; a sister to The Seven Princes. Her future lay in marrying one of them and producing children for the circles. But, when she took over Eden, slaying Adam and corrupting Eve, she made her own path. Lucifer let her keep her garden, where she grew her daughters from the flowers around her. Andromeda, she knew, came from a peony. Gaia, the eldest from gentle primroses, and Rhea from beautiful hydrangeas. Lilith birthed all her children through the flowers; they followed suit to have their own daughters. She liked to think of you in a bed of freesias, a flower symbolizing freedom. 

“Sister,” Gaia spoke softly. Her hair in soft yellow curls, her solemn brown eyes looked at her with concern, “You know you could have told us.”

“If you had told us, the poor child wouldn't have suffered in the circles,” said Rhea sternly, square-jawed and dark-haired. “I can’t imagine the pain she’s endured since her death. The circles are so unkind and horrific. Why would you rather she go undiscovered and suffer than be acknowledged and accepted?”

“I didn’t want this for her,” she said, still reading the letter. “I wanted her to forge her own path as our mother did once. Being a Lady of Eden, she would have been stuck here forever. She wouldn’t have space to grow or explore herself. I didn’t want her to feel as trapped as I once did.” 

“I have changed since then, Andromeda,” her mother said, standing from her seat. “I thought I would’ve proven that to you by now.”

“You have, Mother,” Andromeda saw her sad eyes and went to her. “I know you made many changes on my behalf. I know they were hard for you,” she continued, holding her mother’s hands gently. “I am forever grateful for them. The precautions I made with YN were long before our reconciliation. I’m sorry,” she said with all the honesty behind it, “I’m sorry I kept this from you; that I kept her from all of you. But, I was only doing what I believed was right at the time.”

“Enduring pain at the hands of a man-thing just to keep your daughter from demons?” her mother said sadly. “Andromeda, you might be a free spirit, but you are also a blind spirit. Your hesitancy and pride caused your only child to be thrusted into a world of pain and loneliness. I spoke with Wooyoung today-”

“-Ugh, not Wooyoung-”

“-And he told me that YN is living with Asmodeus’s heir, Seonghwa.”

Andromeda vaguely remembered her cousin. Handsome, brooding, and bookish, her mother liked to call him ‘The Brain’. Hongjoong was ‘The Beauty’ and San was ‘The Brawn’. She wondered how you ended up there. A shot of fear struck her. 

“She was their pleasure slave, wasn't she?”

Lilith paused, but eventually blurted out, “Yes.” 

No. This was all her fault. Her stubbornness led to your enslavement. The thought of her daughter in rags, chained and abused night and day made her collapse into a seat. What had those man-things done to you? A slew of lewd, obscene images crossed her mind. Hongjoong’s insatiable, broad appetite became common knowledge amongst the elite. Stories of Seonghwa’s cruelty made the strongest of demons shudder. San might be the sweetheart, but he could be deadly when crossed. More tears rushed down her cheeks thinking about it. She knew with a single retort or disobedience, those men would crush you. Andromeda could not let it go on any longer. She needed to save you. She needed to bring you home.

“I must go to her,” Andromeda said shakily, putting the letter on the table. “I must go to their keep and get my daughter. Mother, I promise I will present her to you soon, but I need to get her before they do-”

“-That will not be necessary, my sweet peony.” Her mother embraced her warmly, putting Andromeda’s head on her shoulder as she sobbed. She felt a hand soothingly rubbing her back, a gentle hum playing in her ear. “I already sent word to The Black Keep. She will be brought here this afternoon.”

“Mother, I must see her,” Andromeda emphasized through thick tears. “I have to talk to her. I have to tell her I’m sorry for all of it; I need to make this right.”

She knew you resented her. It did not take a genius to see what you thought of her, but she never stopped trying. Despite being an adult already, she could not help worrying for you. A demon might’ve found you and dragged you to your grandmother. They’d clamp their invisible chains, and you’d never be free. It appeared the inevitable finally happened, and in the worst way. 

“You will see her,” her mother assured her. “Our YN will come home. I promise.”

Regardless of who their father is, Asmodeus’s boys could not ignore a Princess’s summons. 

****

“Just focus. Keep your eyes on your target and focus.”

Seonghwa stood by the work table in Octavius’s lair, watching you from afar. On the table, he’d placed a flower pot. After filling it with soil and fertilizer, he wanted to experiment with your abilities. He deduced you could manipulate, grow and speak to plants, but he sensed you could do more. Seeing whether you could create plants from nothing was the first test. Firmly standing at the table, you pressed your hands to the ceramic pot and closed your eyes. 

“Envision the type of flower you want, and see if it comes up,” he directed. His eyes remained trained on you, and you could feel them studying you. 

A sunflower. You hadn’t seen sunflowers in ages. Picturing their pointed petals, a vivid yellow surrounding a fuzzy center, you imagined it sprouting from deep in the soil. It’d break through the dark dirt, absorbing the nutrients needed to accelerate its growth. You saw it unfurling from the thin roots extending to plant itself in the very center. A distinct tingling started in your shoulders before vibrating down your arms to your fingertips. You shuddered from the tickling shivers up your spine. You kept yourself focused on your goal. You had been at this for an hour, and you hadn’t grown anything. Maybe growth isn’t in your skill set; you might only be able to rejuvenate plants, not grow them from nothingness. Once you felt the weakness starting to come over you, you stopped.

Opening your eyes, you saw an empty pot.

“I suck at this,” you complained, kicking the wooden table leg. “What’s the point in a plant ability if I can’t grow them? I was able to do it the day I met Octavius. Why can’t I do it now?”

“Perhaps because the plants you controlled flourished in the ground,” he suggested, arms crossed. “Whereas this soil isn’t being touched by you,” you heard the realization come to him as he stared at the rich dirt.

You did it before he asked. Sliding your cold fingertips into the soft earth, you reimagined your sunflower. You kept yourself focused on the image in your head, and you gasped once something smooth touched your fingers. What felt like thin strings extended into the pot, bringing on a twinge of excitement. The feeling passed by, you opened your eyes and expected a flourishing sunflower. Instead, you stared at the bare soil again. You squeezed your eyes closed, pushing your head forehead to try capturing that feeling again. This produced nothing again. You continued this with no success. You’d done it before. Why could you not do it again?

“Damnit,” you hissed, removing your hands from the pot. “Why isn’t it working?”

“It might be too advanced for you,” Seonghwa guessed out loud. “We should’ve started with something simpler?” He searched the work table, pushing aside tools and papers before finding a seed packet. “Simple basil seeds,” he said, sprinkling some in the small pot. “Let’s see what you can do with these.”

“It’s not going to work,” you frowned.

“Yes, it will. If you can heal them, you can grow them. Go ahead and see.”

“Can’t we take a break? Go do something fun?”

“This is fun.”

“No, it’s frustrating.”

“Science isn’t always going to be a fun time-”

“-Science is dumb, and so are these experiments,” you lashed out. One of Octavius’s offspring hissed at Seonghwa, and you saw him regard the reaction.

“You’re only saying that because it’s not going your way,” he pointed out. “Just do it one more time,” he moved behind you, long arms wrapping around your waist, “Then we can do something else.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he said, kissing beneath your ear. “We can do whatever you want,” he said, putting stress on ‘whatever’ which made you grin.

“We can always test other abilities too,” you suggested as he guided your hands back into the pot. “I’d love to see the side effects of my kisses.”

“An interesting suggestion, Kitten,” he said. “Come on, let's do this one more time.”

Planting your feet firmly on the ground, you sink the seeds into the pot. Their smooth shells pressed against your fingertips, and you imagined them cracking open to reveal their roots. Soon, the thin veins traced over and around your fingers. You opened your eyes to see sprouts gradually lift from the bottom to the surface. The pointed leaves with their soft ridges sprung from thin stems. Blooming a bright green, they grew until they reached over the edges of the pot. You beamed, a giggle coming through as you removed your hands from the dirt. Gently touching their leaves, Seonghwa placed his hand over yours. His touch felt so different from San or Hongjoong. They worked with their hands. Seonghwa worked with his mind, leaving his hands smooth and soft. He put his other arm over yours to hold you close.

“It’s beautiful,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” you replied.

“You’ve done great work here,” he said, “Overall, I mean. Everything in here looks so healthy and lively again. I don’t think I’ve seen cognizant ones like this in a long time.”

“Because you created them, then left them to rot when they no longer served a purpose or amused you.”

“I know,” he brought your other hand to your chest, holding you tightly, “I’ll admit I’m guilty of neglect. Dennis’s-”

“-Octavius’s-”

“-Octavius’s appetite became too much for any normal demon to handle alone. I thought the slaves or the servants who came in here might satisfy them, but I was wrong. But, they’re lucky they have you now,” he kissed the curve of your neck, “To care for them. Most of the demons here would’ve passed out after being with Octavius so long, but not you. You kept going.”

“It felt good,” you said, eyeing the herb leaves. “The best sex I ever had in my life.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“What about with me?” he said, pouting comically. “You cum so much with me, Kitten. I go for as long as you want,” he kissed the spot again before kissing further up. “I’ll prove it to you right now, if you want. We haven’t done it in a while.”

“A while? We had sex a few days ago when you came back home.”

“That’s too long for us,” he slid his hands from you to trail up your stomach. “Kiss me,” he whispered in your ear, “I want to know what you did to Mingi that made him fuck your cunt without permission. Sweet Jongho pumped out nothing by the time your toxins wore off. I won't even tell you what I heard from Yunho. Your kisses sound deliciously toxic.”

“You want to experience it yourself, Master Seonghwa?” you turned around to face him, hands wandering up his chest. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” he whispered, drawing closer to your lips. “I want to be consumed by you too.”

“Then come closer.”

Right before your lips could touch, an offspring hissed. You turned your head to see Yunho coming through the lair’s entryway. Any heat in your cheeks cooled down at the sight of the house manager. He stood by the arch, a silver tray with an envelope on it in his hands.

“Master, Mistress,” he inclined his head to each of you, “A letter has arrived for you, Master Seonghwa.”

“Just put it over there, Yunho,” he nodded to the other end of the long worktable. He turned his attention back to you, eyes filling with lust again, “I’ll get to it later.”

“Forgive me, sir,” Yunho intervened, “But I highly suggest you read this now.”

“I’m busy, Yunho,” he said, nuzzling your nose before pecking your lips, “Later.”

“It’s from Eden, sir.”

The both of you froze. A week has passed since your official identification card arrived in the mail, making you a real citizen of Inferno. Since they said visiting Eden is voluntary, you’d decided to put it off as long as possible. The mere possibility of seeing your mother in the flesh scared you. Late at night, whether alone or in somebody’s arms, you pictured various scenarios. In some, she wept and embraced you. In others, she smacked and insulted you. Those hurt the most because you deserved that.

Yunho brought the letter over to Seonghwa, who took it. Breaking a green wax seal, he left you by the table. He moved about the room as his brain worked the words, comprehending and considering them before speaking or taking action. The prolonged silence twisted your anxious insides. You exchanged a glance with Yunho, who appeared as concerned as you.

“Well?” you finally said. “What does it say?”

“‘Dear Lord Seonghwa,” he read out loud, venom in his voice, “It has come to my attention that one of my granddaughters is living in your house. As she is a Lady of Eden and no longer a plaything, you will present her to me as is customary for new cambions. If you do not comply, I will have no choice but to take this to your father, Prince Asmodeus-Oh give me a fucking break!”

Seonghwa balled up the letter and tossed it away. You saw him fix his waistband as he paced back and forth. “She talks about it as if we knew the whole time!” he snapped, eyes concentrated on the ground. “She acts like we kidnapped you! We didn’t know until a month ago! That bitch…”

“Seonghwa,” you walked over to him, intent on soothing him, but he raised a hand to stop you.

“It’s not as if we have you tied up in here,” he continued his tirade. “We’ve treated you well, right? We’ve fed you, clothed you, pampered and cared for you. You could ask for anything, and we’d give it to you. All you have to do is bat those pretty lashes and I crumble like a damn cracker!” He ran his hands through his hair, “Doesn’t she know the effect you have on me? Doesn’t she know that I, Park Seonghwa, a Duke of Lust, has been weakened by the most beautiful cambion to ever walk into Inferno? In all of Hell, as a matter of fact?”

“I guess not.” His words touched a sweet spot inside you. “Have I really done that?”

“Yes, obviously! If I didn’t want you, YN, I would’ve tossed you in here and forgotten you existed,” he said, stopping only to speak before ranting further.  “I would have taken you to her if you'd wanted me to. I would have no objections to you seeing your family. You simply never asked, and I wasn't going to pressu-”

“-Seonghwa?” you carefully walked over to him, sliding your arms around him from the side. Instantly, he wrapped one around your waist and took the other hand. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Putting it off,” you said. “I know I should have gone to her sooner, but I kept procrastinating because, well…” you hated saying it out loud. If any time was good for a mind drill, it was then. “I’m scared she’s there.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes.” He turned in your arms and you rested your head on his chest. Seonghwa smelled like roses. A lovely bed of fresh roses clung to his body, not just his clothes. You buried your nose in him, wanting to get lost in his scent. “It might sound stupid to you,” you finally said, “But I…I’m scared to see her.”

“Why?”

“Because I was awful to her. I said terrible things, and pushed her away from me when she needed me.” Your throat dried up at the words. “She kept coming back to me, and I kept moving further. What if she hates me?”

“I doubt that,” he said. “If she kept trying to contact you even when you pulled away, then I don’t think she’d hate you.” 

“I’d hate me.”

“You’re you, so yes, you would.”

You smacked his arm as he laughed. “I mean it,” you said, burying your face in his shoulder, “I can’t go there.”

“That letter says you have to.”

“Can’t we pretend we never got it?”

“No,” he scoffed. “Don’t think too much about it right now. We have important things to go over.”

“Like what?”

“What you’re going to wear, for one thing. Your outfits are cute and casual, which is fine any other time, but not for this.” He sighed, hands on your biceps, “There’s not enough time for Wooyoung to make anything new, so we’ll have to find something in the closet. You need to look like a proper lady.”

“I can be a lady.”

“I’m not denying you can’t be,” he said, “But if you want to continue living here, we need to convince Lilith that you’re not being forced to stay here.” He paused, “You do know that, right?”

“I do,” you said, hugging him again. “I like it here actually. The food’s great, the greenhouse is lovely, the staff is more than helpful and you…” you smiled up as you pulled him to you by his shirt collar, “Have been so good to me.”

Seonghwa’s hands ended up on your hips, “I wouldn’t be anything else. Even with your freedom, you’re still my special Kitten. All I want to do is take care of you.” He played with the end of your hair, focused on the way it felt between his fingers, “I knew you were special when we met-”

“-Spare me the ‘I-knew-you-were-special’ pitch,” you said, giving a disarming smile, “Jongho and Yunho already used it.”

“Ugh,” he grunted, “That was going to be my line.” The two of you chuckled softly, then he said, “But they're right. I couldn’t place my finger on it at the time, but the first whiff of your scent threw me off. Not because you were a human dressed as succubus, but because humans typically didn’t have specific scents. The brothel girls often smell like a mix of every demon they’ve been humped by; they smell like flesh and blood. You didn’t. You smelled-”

“-Like honey?” you guessed, remembering what he’d told you. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “It was electrifying. I never experienced anything like that before you. It didn’t feel like a normal fuck for me. It felt intimate. It felt real. Every time feels like the first time with you. Rolling around in the sheets with you and my brothers,” he caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers, “Is encapsulating. For those few moments-”

“-It’s like nobody exists but us?” you interrupted, taking his hands in yours. 

“Exactly. I get so wrapped up in you, in them, that I don’t notice anything around me. I only think and care about you, Kitten,” he pecked your lips softly, “And how my butterflies dusted off their wings when we first kissed. They haven't flown in centuries.”

“Let’s get them some exercise then,” you grinned, arms sliding around his neck. 

Seonghwa’s arms went around you: one hand slid up your back to your neck while the other went the opposite direction. Your fingers tangled in the ends of his black hair, feeling the silky curls on your fingertips up to the roots in his scalp. For that brief moment, Seonghwa drowned every sense. He became another world to get lost inside of. Neither of you noticed loyal servant, Yunho, standing nearby still until he coughed for attention. 

“Sorry, sir,” he said, nodding curtly, “But the messenger is outside waiting for a response.”

“Tell them she’ll be there soon,” he replied, only focusing on you. “Right now, she’s mine. All mine.” 

“As you wish, sir.” 

Yunho walked away, and Seonghwa took you over to the work table again. This time, neither of you concerned yourself with the plant and instead worked on removing each other’s clothes. 

All other worries went out the window right then. 

****

‘Curtsy like Yunho showed you. Only speak when spoken to. Don’t make direct eye contact with her unless told to do so. Give the brothers glowing reviews on their treatment of you. Don’t mention anything that can possibly cast a negative light on your situation. Lie, if you must. Downplay the sex. Tell her it doesn’t happen as often, and that you’re mainly their female companion, nothing more.’

They gave you so much to remember you thought your head might pop. The ruffled ends of your dress rubbed between your nervous fingers. Off your shoulders, the pale pink chiffon dress came with embroidered pink freesias and leaves. Seonghwa thought covering you in florals might endear your grandmother to you more. You hoped that it’d work because otherwise you’d be at a disadvantage. In a white and gold carriage, the four of you sat together against the comfortable seats as it went through town. 

“Do you remember what we told you to say?” Seonghwa asked. 

The brothers wore fine tailored suits for the occasion. Seonghwa wore a black and white suit, sleek with clean silhouettes; Hongjoong added a bit more color with the crimson serpent and rose pattern shimmering faintly on the jacket. San kept himself modest and simple with a 3-buttoned blue suit, which you couldn’t get enough of. You rarely saw the three of them wearing similar outfits before. Apparently, meeting royalty canceled out personal tastes. You noticed right away your pink dress would make you stand out amongst them even more. 

“Yes,” you nodded. The serpent-rose brooch on his breast gleamed in the sunlight, and you realized San and Hongjoong wore a similar one but in gold. Sons of Asmodeus making themselves known in Eden.  

“Don’t be nervous.” San sat beside you, his fingers sliding between yours to give a comforting squeeze. “Lilith will love you. Firstly, you’re her granddaughter and also you’re a woman, so you’re immediately in her good books.”

“Yeah, it’s us she’s going to bear her fangs at,” said Hongjoong, slumped in his seat and gazing out the window. “She hates men.”

“Why?”

“She likes to say it’s because she believes the female spirit should be celebrated and how womanhood is under constant threat of the patriarchy,” he said in a bored tone, “But everyone knows it’s because of Adam.”

“Adam? Like, ‘Adam and Eve’? That Adam?”

“Yup. Word was that they were madly in love, but when she disobeyed God, God created Eve to replace her,” he said. “And Adam then fell in love with Eve. I don’t remember the full story, but apparently Lilith managed to corrupt Eve, kill Adam and then claimed Eden as her own. She brought it down here, and started planting her Garden of Daughters.”

“Garden of Daughters?”

“She created her children from plants,” explained San, “So then she could control the sex of the babies. She only wanted girls.”

“Eden is a paradise,” Hongjoong smirked to himself. “The most beautiful women in all of Hell live there. God, I would’ve given anything to have my pick of them once.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You,” he smiled over at you, giving a subtle wink that warmed your cheeks. “Here, let me fix this.”

He reached over to straighten the pink diamonds hanging from your neck. He did nothing to hide his leering. His eyes stayed directly on your bosom, gently brushing it. When he settled it properly, he traced the back of his finger down to the tiny bit of cleavage. You already saw all the dirty thoughts running through his mind, creating a sly smirk. 

“You look beautiful like this,” he pondered, finger tracing over the tops of your breasts. His light touch spread warmth that had nothing to do with the sun. “I personally prefer you naked, but this is a good substitute.” 

“Seonghwa told me walking around Eden fully nude isn’t ‘acceptable behavior’.”

“Ah, what does he know? He always pisses on everyone’s parade-”

“-You two do know I’m right here?-”

“-Come here,” Hongjoong beckoned you closer, “Give me a kiss.”

“No kisses,” Seonghwa pulled him back into his seat. “We don’t have any cold serum on us, and if she walked up to Lilith stinking of your cum, it might deflect from the picture we’re trying to paint.” 

“A little one won’t hurt,” he insisted, puckering his lips at you, but you shook your head and laughed. 

“Seonghwa’s right,” you said. “There’s plenty of time for kisses later.” 

“Promise?” he pouted like a kid being refused candy. 

“I promise.” 

“What about me?” San’s hand smoothed over your lap to grab your inner thigh, “Do I get kisses later too?”

“As many as you like,” you told him, “And maybe some special ones too?” 

“My favorite,” he smiled, leaning close but forcing himself away in a deep breath. “Gosh, I wish I wasn’t so damn weak.”

“Me too,” Seonghwa agreed. 

Your devilish giggle amused the men. Demons didn’t differ from humans at all. A little glimpse of your chest or whispered promise of a “special kiss” turned them into melted popsicles. Pride fluttered whenever you left one of them wanting more, knowing that even if they'd owned you, you held the power. Your grandmother might see this at work and decide not to hate you. 

“What do you plan to do?” Hongjoong’s question cuts across your thoughts.

“About what?”

“Your mom. She's likely there. What are you going to do if you see her?”

“I don't know,” you said, playing with the ribbon bracelet on your wrist. “I haven't seen her in such a long time.”

You really wouldn't know until you saw her yourself. You pictured the last time you’d seen your mother. It’d been after graduation when you told her you’d be moving in with your friend, Kelly. She begged you to stay; she said she’d leave your father, and you’d move in together. You didn’t believe her. Maybe if you’d agreed to that, you wouldn’t have died in a club bathroom, alone and stinking of booze and sweat. You’re awful. You’re cruel. You deserved to be in Hell, not her.

“I don't think she'd turn you away,” Seonghwa repeated his words from the greenhouse. “She loved you, and likely still does.”

“If she did, she would have known I was here.” It occurred to you that your death preceded hers. She might know you came to Inferno, and doesn't want to see you. You'd understand that, if it were true. “I wouldn't blame her if she didn't.”

“We'll be right next to you the whole time,” San assured you. “If she doesn't want you around, then you know you have us.”

The words comforted you regardless of how small. You wondered what Demon Andi looked like. She must be an imposing figure, since she is Lilith’s daughter. You wouldn't care. Seeing her would be enough. 

The Gardens of Eden laid on the far outskirts of Hell. You knew it when you spotted thirty-foot tall hedges encompassing the land. Women in gold breastplate armor and leather walked along the battlements of the gates, keeping eye for visitors. Mingi, the driver for today, pulled up right to the iron gates where two more female guards stood. You only heard bits and pieces of Mingi’s conversation with the guard. The nerves swirling your guts made it difficult to care. You knew nothing about Lilith. She might be a horrid mistress of darkness who’d punish you for what you’d done. She might be so offended she’d strip you of everything. You saw yourself not putting up a fight this time.

Mingi drove through Eden, and you saw the quaint shops and houses lining the stone streets. Everything had some kind of vegetation growing around or on it. From bus benches to official looking buildings, Eden truly looked like Heaven in Hell. The air did not feel so hot, and the sun shined even with thin clouds covering the sky. It was when you arrived at the main “palace” that you paid real attention. Reaching up into the sky, the palace sat on a high hill with three walls descending in size circling the place. Flowers you'd never seen before you poked out of the cracks and overran the gates. It looked magnificent. It reminded you of fairytale castles in picture books. Beautiful. Ethereal. 

“Mingi! Dude, what’s up?” a female guard beamed brightly at him as he pulled up. “What brings you to this side of Inferno?”

“I have a new Sister,” he answered, nodding to the carriage. “She’s come to see her grandmother.”

The guard brightened at this and peeked into the carriage. Your eyes met hers, and she smiled. “Holy shit,” she laughed, pleased to see you, “Well met, Sister. We’ve been expecting you. Drive on through, Mingi".”

“Thanks, Diana.”

Mingi drove into the palace entrance and parked near a horse stable. More people wearing white and gold went to and fro, focused on their daily tasks than the new ‘Sister’ coming into town. Anxiety doubled when Mingi opened your door. You froze in place, body getting covered in a cold-sweat. You can't do this. You shouldn't do this. 

“Don't be scared,” San said, offering you his hand to help you out. “I'm right here.”

But, you’d passed the point of no return. You’d decided you’d go through with this, and you would, no matter what happened. Stepping down from the carriage, you walked with them towards the stone steps leading into the castle.

“Relax,” San said, reassuringly. “Lilith is wonderful really. She might have a bad rep, but she’s very fond of women. She won’t hurt you.”

“She’s a demon princess who feels she’s been lied to,” you noted. “She has every reason to turn me into a frog or a flower or whatever.”

“Not with me around,” he said, kissing your hand. “As long as I’m alive, you’re safe, Darling.”

A bundle of peonies on a wall followed you with their “heads”. Mama. She loved them. 

Reaching the tall open doors, more guards stood beside security sensors. Instructed to remove any jewelry or metal items, you did it without thinking. All the castle windows had no glass. Only more plant life. You could feel them feeding off the sun and carbon dioxide in the air, returning it with their own oxygen. Tiny bumblebees floated around flowers on the wall, and butterflies flew near the ceiling. You tried finding comfort in the environment, but it only reminded you of her again. You wished she’d leave you alone, but also remain in your spirit at the same time. She might not even be here. You might be freaking out for nothing. Passing through security, Mingi’s weapons and a blade San kept hidden were turned into an armory window.

“My lords!” a female voice chimed. 

You looked up to see a young woman coming down the steps. In a gown of white muslin, she bowed and greeted the four of you. She wore a tiara of daisies atop her dark hair, and painted the same ones around her thin eyes. Unlike succubi, this woman glowed faintly. Something about her radiated warmth and gentleness. You weren't sure how, but a connection happened between you. This intensified when she locked eyes with you and smiled brightly. You felt as if you knew her, though you’d never met.

“Welcome Sister YN,” she said. “Her Highness has been eagerly waiting for you. We are so glad you've arrived at last. I'm Artemis, Daughter to Lady Rhea. We’re cousins!” she nearly leapt as she hugged you tightly, giggling with delight.

“A cousin?” you never thought about your extended family. Your mother never mentioned them. She always steered away from the conversation whenever you’d asked. “Um, wow. Nice to meet you.”

“Where is Her Highness?” Seonghwa asked, searching for her in the large hall. 

“In the citrus groves,” Artemis answered, her eyes surveying him. “She is taking tea there right now. She wishes to see you and your brothers as well.”

“Lead on, then.”

Artemis linked her arm with yours to guide you ahead of the men. “I can't believe she invited them here,” she huffed irritably. “Men in Eden. It’s not right.”

“Men don’t live here?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Before your mother left us, we weren’t allowed to leave Eden. Grandmother said that our walls and gardens are meant to protect us from those who would hurt us.” 

“They’re not like that,” you told her, recalling how the masters treated you before you gained freedom. “They might not be Prince Charming, but they’re good ones.” 

“Psh, there’s no such thing. You’ll see that with time, Sister.”

“Maybe that’s why they’re so worried about meeting her,” you said. 

“They should be,” she replied. “Princess Lilith is the Guardian of Eden, the Queen of Flowers, and Mother of Womankind. She protects all women, and celebrates their femininity. Were it not for her, many of us would be pleasure slaves in the slums or working in the circles.”

You tried hiding your face, shame coming over you. You'd made that choice: escaping one evil to end up in another. For a brief moment, you imagined a life where you knew the truth. But, this thought was interrupted by music.  

A tranquil melody came from somewhere nearby. In a courtyard of flowers, you saw three women sitting on stone benches. They all wore long thin dresses they kept belted at their waists. Hair falling down their backs, they might’ve been mistaken for angels if it weren’t for the curled horns and tails poking through their gowns. One woman sat playing a lyre lightly, while the other two harmonized in song. You recognized the language as Latin, or at least you thought so. The women must’ve felt your stare since they gazed up as you walked by. They smiled and waved, and you did the same. Comforting. This castle felt comforting and safe. 

“Good morrow, Sister,” one passing woman said to you and Artemis. 

“Um, morning?”

“Morning Sister Calypso.”

“Is everyone here related?” you asked Artemis. 

“Sister is the general term,” she explained. “Ladies of Eden see all women as sisters and Princess Lilith is our mother. She birthed most of us in her gardens, while some are granddaughters of different generations.”

“They mentioned I'm a first-generation granddaughter?”

“You're one of the first granddaughters.”

“There are others?”

“Oh yes. Princess Lilith had twelve daughters. For instance, I’m a first generation too because my mother, Rhea, is Lilith’s third daughter.” Artemis then looked at you curiously, “Did you not know that?”

You had twelve aunts? Twelve? “No. My mother never mentioned them to me.”

“Then this will truly be a grand homecoming!” she beamed, unbothered by your ignorance. “Everyone’s here! Everyone! Oh, I just know the other girls will be excited to meet you. You’re all they’ve talked about since this morning. I know I’ve been elated. It’s always wonderful when a new Sister comes to Eden.” 

Artemis then led you into a citrus grove. The fragrant smell of oranges, peaches, lemons, grapefruits and other citrus fruits wafted between the trees. You imagined they stayed ripe and growing regardless of season. Mama had a mango tree once, and she’d let you pick them when they became ripe. She’d love it here, you knew that much. 

The sound of laughter carried through the trees from up ahead. Your feet turned cold and numb in your sandals, and your sweaty hands skidded on the smooth fabric. The row of trees ended in an archway leading into a small enclosure of more flowers and fruits. At a stone table, three women sat chattering over a game of cards. Two of them wore the white flowing garb of Ladies, while a third wore a peach colored one. She had a golden circlet in her black hair, several purple orchids molded into the band. Her otherworldly appearance intimidated and fascinated you. Her long horns stretched behind her, and she'd put gold bands around her short tail. This was Lilith, your grandmother. 

“Grandmother,” Artemis brought you through the archway, “Our new Sister has arrived.”

All three women turned when you approached. Lilith gazed upon you, studying from afar. For a moment, you worried she’d transform you into a plant or bug to stomp on you, but no. Instead, the Queen of Flowers smiled fondly. All three women stood up from the table, and she walked over to you. Crimson eyes scanned over your face many times, as if examining a beautiful painting.

“Well, look at you,” she finally said, lifting your chin to turn your face side to side. “Oh,” she sighed, “Such a gorgeous flower. You really do look like Andromeda. If you’d come to me from the beginning, you would’ve flourished so well here.”

“Thank you, Your Highness?”

She laughed, a chime in the wind, “Call me ‘Grandmother’, darling. Every Sister here does.” 

Her warmth turned icy as she gazed upon Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and San behind you. “My lords,” she said coldly, hands clasped in front of her, “Welcome to Eden.”

“Thank you for inviting us, Your Highness,” Seonghwa said with a curt bow. “It's a pleasure to see you again, Auntie.”

“It'd be a merrier occasion if it weren't marred by current events. Tell me,” she stepped forward, “When did you plan on informing me of my granddaughter?” 

“As soon as her paperwork went through,” Seonghwa answered. “I swear, Your Highness, we didn't know she was a cambion. We were equally surprised when her powers began flourishing. I suspect being in a demonic environment triggered her dormant abilities. We, of course, would have told you once we had confirmation of who and what she was. YN wanted to visit right away, but we told her we should wait. This delay wasn’t her fault at all.”

“And how long had she been your pleasure slave?” This question stunned the men, so she continued, “Demons such as yourselves would not take up a beauty like YN because she's a good servant. I am more than aware of a man's appetites and inability for self-control. How long?”

“Three months or so,” he answered honestly. 

Her disapproval came out in a soft grunt. 

“We never did anything Lady YN didn't already want,” he continued. “We would never do anything to hurt YN.”

“As far as you know, boy,” she said spitefully. “YN?” her tone suddenly turned soft again as she turned to you. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” you admitted, looking into her eyes. “You might look down on that-I don't know- but I have enjoyed living with them. They treat me well there, and even more so now that I'm no longer a slave.”

She considered this. Like with Seonghwa, you felt her surveying you. “Is that so?” you saw a teasing smirk cross face, “You're a true Lady of Eden then. I only ask because men can be aggressive when they want something a woman won't give them,” she told you gently. “You were a slave for so long. Imagining what men put you through sickens me. If I knew about you earlier, you'd be living here where you're safe.” 

“She's perfectly safe with us, Auntie,” San said. “I'd never let anyone or anything harm YN. She has become very special to all of us.”

“She also has a bodyguard who watches over her day and night,” Seonghwa added. 

“With those plants of hers, she's not exactly a helpless kitten anymore,” Hongjoong said. “Her blood is poisonous and her pets are very protective of her.”

“Pets?”

“The plants in my greenhouse,” you told her. “Seonghwa's experiments. They went a long time without being taken care of, so I have been watching over them. They’re pretty attached to me, I think.”

“How intriguing,” she said, as if the plants weren't Seonghwa’s idea. She wrapped her arm around yours, “I will take YN from here. You three can wait in the parlor. I think you’ll find it satisfactory.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” 

Seonghwa lightly kissed your cheek, “See you soon, love.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” teased Hongjoong before he kissed you, “Or anything that I would.”

“I’ll be counting the minutes until I see you again, Darling,” San said in his crooning tone that made you laugh. You laughed in his gentle kiss, shaking your head. 

“Ugh, just go,” you said, pushing gently. You watched them leave, putting them to memory before turning to your grandmother. Her confused expression worried you. “Sorry,” you said quickly, “It’s how we, uh, you know, say goodbye.” 

She nodded, wrapped her arm around yours and started walking. “How long have you been in Inferno, sweetling?” she asked, not going to touch the romantic display of affection. 

“About eight or nine years now,” you admitted, wondering if you should have kissed them in front of her. 

“Where did you end up when you arrived?”

“Circle of Lust.”

“As expected,” she snorted, leading you out of the enclosure and through the grove. “A woman as beautiful as you no doubt had plenty of lovers in her lifetime.”

“I might have had a few.”

“How did you pass?”

Shame suddenly came over you. You felt cold as you said, “I overdosed in a bathroom.”

Lilith remained silent a minute, mulling over the information. “How tragic,” she finally said, “That must’ve been terrible for you.”

“I guess. I don’t remember much of it, to be honest. I remember getting super dizzy, and throwing up in the toilet. There was this terrible pain in my chest, so I was breathing hard and choking on the vomit. I sort of, I guess, knew I was dying? I started panicking which made everything worse. When I got here, I was in this big forest for a super long time. I didn’t even know what I was looking for to be honest.”

“Nobody does. That is the purpose of the forest, but you found it eventually. Oh,” she frowned, “I can’t imagine how terrified you’d been. The circles are not gentle places. I understand why you might have chosen to be a pleasure slave.”

“I wanted to escape the circle, and that was the only way.”

Her face soured at that. No doubt hearing about her granddaughter working in a brothel upset her deeply. “How disgusting,” she said, “Those pigs in the slums peddling my daughters and granddaughters to the highest bidders. I’ve seen the conditions those women live in, and it’s despicable. I’d burn the whole damn brothel district to the ground if I could. But, as that’s Asmodeus’s territory, I have no authority there.”

“But, I bet any man who lingers around here ends up in worse shape than if he’d stayed away?”

She smirked, “It’s happened quite a lot. Those demons in the city like sneaking in here to try getting at my girls. The last time one of them did that, I had the scum broken on the wheel. Nobody touches my girls. Nobody.” You heard the bite in her voice as she brought you out of the citrus groves and through a garden path. “Every woman ever born is a giver of life. We take care of the home and hearth; we endure and persevere against the men who do us harm; we fight and stand up for ourselves and our sisters. Our plants,” she stopped by a flower wall, “Our special Eden are our children and our protectors.” She cradled one blossom in her hand, brushing the supple petals with her thumb. “Nature is strong. I’ve seen tornadoes level out entire towns in a single night. I have witnessed the oceans rise and drown thousands of people. I wanted all my daughters to be nature personified, strong and resilient against the odds.”

“That’s admirable,” you stood beside her, taking in the floral wall. “I don’t know if your ideals got through to all your daughters.”

She paused, sadness in her eyes, “Andromeda.”

“Andromeda. She let my father abuse her for years. She took every hit and insult instead of fighting back. If she was a demon, why did she let that happen?”

“Not all strength is physical,” she explained. “It takes lots of endurance and courage to remain in a relationship like that one. I imagine she put up with it for you.”

“For me?”

“If your father hadn’t beat your mother, he certainly would’ve turned on you. Andromeda would take a hundred punches for you. I know she’d jump in front of a knife or a bullet for you.” 

Deep down, you knew she spoke the truth. You couldn’t count the amount of times your mother got between you and your father. She’d find a way to redirect his anger to her, so his fists landed on her face instead of yours. 

And you abandoned her. 

“Is she here?”

“She is. Where did you think I was taking you?”

You left the flowers behind and she brought you into another part of the massive castle gardens.

‘…He’s got something that I can’t resist, but he doesn’t even know that I-I-I exist.”

You heard her before you saw her. Her soft voice moved through towards you like a lighthouse in a bay. Lilith let you go ahead of her while she hung back by the entrance. Surrounded by all varieties of flora, you gulped down the ball in your throat. In a thin dress of pale blue, Lady Andromeda looked different from Andi YLN. Cream-colored horns stuck upwards in waves, with a short matching tail. She wore a headscarf to keep her hair out of her face like at home. Tears burned your eyes looking at her. Every terrible thing you ever said filled your ears and made the feeling worse.

“Other fellas, call me up for a date, but I just sit and wait. I’d rather concentrate on Johnny Angel…"‘

Her voice sounded exactly the same. It washed over you like a cool breeze on a hot day. With her hair held back, you saw her profile. The shape of her nose matched yours, but her jawline came out sharper. Soft lips curled into a smile as she tended to the garden bed. You recognized tomato plants by the ripe fruits hanging off the vines. She’d wept when you walked out of the house, duffle bag over your shoulder and anger in your chest. She begged you to come back. She pleaded for you to stay with her; she said you’d be safer with her. You never wondered what she meant by that. You watched her withered hands work the soil gently, pulling weeds from the bottom. Her singing brought the old favorite back to you, and it came out as easily as breathing.

“And pray that someday he’ll love me, and together we will see how lovely heaven will be…”

The lyrics stamped into your memory flowed out shakily. They came through your thick tears, which flowed freely down your cheeks to your jaw. She stopped singing right away. Her hands stayed in the dirt, staring at the plants. Slowly, your mother turned her head to look at you. Regret brought forth more tears as you stepped into the sunshine. Her eyes, a similar shade to yours, stared at you in shock and disbelief.

“YN?” she whispered your name, hands curling into her dress. “Is that…”

“Hi Mama.”

Andromeda carefully stood up and faced you. She nervously walked towards you, drinking in the vision of you. You looked over her face again, remembering every smile. Any moment, you expected claws to sink into your shoulders to drag you from her. They’ll pierce your skin, whispering the hurtful things you said and claimed. You weren’t worthy of this reunion. You should never have dared show your face to her. The closer she came, the more tears she shed. She hates you.

“Little Andi…” she said, “My honey cake…Look at you,” she exhaled through her chest, “You’re so beautiful; so much more than I ever imagined.”

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

You sobbed, and there she came. She wrapped her arms around you, the scent of peonies in her skin and hair. Each sob wracked through your body, uncontrollable in every breath. The trembling went from shoulders to hands; you thought you might get weak knees from it. Every argument. Every disparaging remark. Every time you ever told yourself you hated her rushed back. She'd done so much for you, and you'd kicked her to the curb. 

“I left you alone,” you cried. “I left you alone. I’m sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush now, sweet baby,” she cooed, stroking your hair and pecking your temple. “I expected it to happen, if I’m honest. Daughters of Lilith are hard to keep locked up forever.” She finally lifted your head from her shoulder and cupped your head in her hands. “The only one I couldn’t forgive was myself.”

“For what?” you asked through your tears.

“For not telling you things in the first place,” she said. “I should have. Maybe if I'd been honest, things may have turned out differently. Look,” she released you, though still holding your hands, “Let’s have some tea and we can talk about whatever you want.”

You nodded, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand before she withdrew her handkerchief.

She wiped your cheeks for you, studying your face again. “I bet you were a maneater up there,” she smirked knowingly. “I used to laugh at any boy who ended up infatuated with you. They had no idea who they were getting into.”

“I know. I remember.”

“Lucas,” she called out into the air, “Lucas!”

“Your Highness?” a young boy materialized from the thick hedges, dressed in an outfit made of leaves like Peter Pan. Only difference was his scarlet eyes and the tiny horns sticking out of his head. An Imp. 

“We’ll take afternoon tea in the west gazebo today.”

“Right away, my lady.”

She guided you out of her plot and towards the western side of the garden. “What have you learned about yourself so far?” she asked on the way there.

“That I can regrow plants and talk to them,” you said.

“That’s all? Hm, we’ll have to fix that.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off her. You worried if you did, she’d disappear. 

“Mama,” you said, “What happened after I left?”

“Not now, YN.”

“Did he get better? Worse?”

“YN.”

“I want to know, Mama,” you told her. “I left you behind. I want to know what ended up happening. He couldn’t have been happy about it.”

She sighed, “He wasn't. He saw it as another servant walking out on him. He didn't even change after I gave him pestilence.”

“Pestilence?”

“Sickness curse. It can take any form of illness, and your father's turned into cirrhosis of the liver,” she said. “The doctors told us it was too advanced and irreversible. They could've done a transplant, but he’d be on a waiting list for a while. He ended up dying before then.” You caught a shadow of a smile on her face, “He was told to stop drinking, and you knew your dad. He always did whatever he wanted; he never listened to anyone, no matter how good the advice. I woke up one day and found him throwing up everywhere. He died at the hospital.”

“You called me,” you said guiltily, “And I ignored your call.”

“I know.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have gone home for the funeral at least.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

She brought you to a wooden gazebo in the middle of a circular garden. Two small children had set up a spread for tea time. At least, they looked like children. You learned a long time ago demon imps often resembled children. The sole difference between an Imp and demon offspring were the eyes: Imps had dark glowing eyes, while demon children only had crimson rings. She brought you over to the table, where they’d set up an afternoon tea setting with tea, finger sandwiches, scones and small tartlets and cakes. You had no appetite. The sadness sitting inside you took up too much space. 

“Why would you not want me to come home?” you asked her, watching her prepare a cup of tea. You almost did not want to know the answer, but asked. 

“They would have found you.”

You paused, not noticing the Imp placing a finger sandwich on your plate. “Who?”

“Demons.” She paused for a moment, eating her sandwich then said, “I didn’t want you to end up here, YN. It’s why I did not register you. It’s why I tolerated and endured your father. His wickedness kept away any demons who might’ve tried sneaking into our home. If they discovered you, they would’ve taken you away from me. I…” she let a small dandelion wrap around her finger, watching it coil like a snake until it sprouted past her fingertip, “I told myself when I left home that I’d follow my own path. I told myself that just because I was a demon did not mean I must live like them. I knew if I had any children, my mother would send demons to bring them here. I didn’t want that. I wanted you to grow up away from this, but it seems it found you anyways.”

“I don’t know, Ma,” you said, “This place is pretty awesome. Where I’m living right now is pretty bitchin’ too.”

She snorted, “Why am I not surprised? My mother will never admit that Asmodeus’s boys always come out so handsome. I just hope they didn't force themselves upon you.”

“Not at all. I like them.”

“Only like?”

“I haven't lived with them very long,” you said. 

You took her in as she ate and drank tea. She couldn't be there. This wasn't real. Any second this dream would turn dark and bleak, with its claws forcing you away again. Ever since you arrived at the Black Keep, Mama came to you more and more. You found yourself thinking of sunny days and fresh lemonade. The sight of her sitting so near felt unreal to you; another daydream brought to life to torment you. 

“Why did you leave here in the first place?” you asked her. “Seonghwa mentioned something about not being able to leave here?”

“He's right,” she nodded. “Before my return, Ladies of Eden were forbidden to leave the city. My mother claimed it was to keep us safe, but that never sat right with me. I shared the same sentiments as you: I wanted to break free. Eden might be heaven in hell, but it felt so suffocating. Instead of cherishing my darling plants, I felt restrained by their vines. There was a whole world beyond this garden city waiting to be explored. So, one night, when everyone slept, I dug a tunnel and escaped,” she shrugged. “I went to the living world and decided to make a new life there.”

“Didn't you miss it here?”

“I did. I thought about going back several times,” she admitted, eating a finger sandwich. “But then I met your father and things changed.”

“They did?” 

“Yes,” she nodded. “He wasn't the way you remember him.” She smiled softly, “He was charismatic and charming. He liked flowers, poetry and music. We used to go to dances and dance the night away, drinking and kissing. I never felt that way for anyone before. I'd never fallen for a man. I'd been taught they were violent, evil beings, but your father didn't seem that way.”

“Then he became a drunken asshole.”

“Your father went through a lot during the war, honey,” she said. “A lot of men did back then. I tried getting through to him, but nothing I said worked. Your father….A part of him died on the battlefield, I think.”

“Is he…” you felt afraid to ask, “Is he here? In Hell?”

“No,” she shook her head, “He went to Purgatory when he died.”

“Really?”

“He hadn't sinned enough to end up here but wasn't good enough for Paradise,” she said. “In Purgatory, he can repent and earn his way there. Kind of like how people here can fight in the arena to win their ticket to Purgatory.”

“Have you seen him?”

“No.”

“Would you ever want to?”

She hesitated, sipping from her tea cup. “Yes.”

“Really? Why?”

“I don't know. To slap him? To kiss him? To tell him that I hated him, loved him, missed him, wanted him dead, wanted him alive? I don't know, darling.” You watched her grow a daffodil from out of her palm. She looked at it with forlorn eyes, “We had our first kiss in this meadow outside of town. He blew on a daffodil, and when I asked him what he wished for, he said he wished for me to kiss him.” She laughed softly, “I loved him so much back then. I thought he was the love of my life.”

“You thought?”

“Yes, until I met someone else.” She looked over at you, tears in her eyes and daffodils spiraling around her fingers. “You were the most precious being I'd ever seen. I realized I hadn't known true love until you came. I held you in my arms that night in complete disbelief. I couldn't believe a creature like me created something so pure and innocent. I never loved anything as wonderful as-YN?”

And you hated her. You, her true love, hated and ignored her. She loved you beyond all reason, never giving up on you once, and there you'd been: in your designer outfits scowling as you held the phone to your ear. You couldn't imagine the heartache you'd caused. Tears stung around your sinuses, and you sniffled them away until they poured back out. Your head fell into your hands, body shaking in each hard sob. The day you died must have been the worst day of her entire life. When her gentle hands touched your arm, you knew she'd comfort you like she always did. 

“Come here,” she said, gradually pulling you to face her. With your body turned to her, your mother tenderly removed your hands from your face. 

“Why don't you hate me?” you asked her thickly. 

“I'm incapable of hating you,” she answered, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Even when you walked out of my life, I loved you. You might understand that some day, but I couldn't hate you ever.” She wiped your tears with her handkerchief again, “I do wish you'd stayed with me, but I knew you had to go. I knew you had to spread your wings and fly away from home, even if that leaving me-”

“-I was so mean to you,” you rasped. “I never called or wrote to you. I told people I either didn't have a mom or that we don't talk anymore. Mama,” you took both her hands, “I used to like telling myself I lived with no regrets. But, I've realized that isn't true. I regret cheating people out of their money. I regret getting high in the bathroom. I regret being cruel to you, Mama,” you said in a breath. “I regret drifting away and never looking back. Maybe if I had-”

“-Let's not live with ‘Maybe’,” she interrupted. “She's a bitch and says mean things.” She tucked hair from your face and said, “I don’t hold it against you, love. It must’ve seemed that way to you because you didn’t know the truth. I should have told you. There’d been so many times where I considered it, but by the time I decided, you’d already gone. The past is the past, sweetheart. The best thing the two of us can do is move forward from it.” She kissed your cheek, and you basked in the comfort of her kiss. “Eat something. You must be so hungry.”

The two of you sat there for what felt like hours. You learned everything about her then: her birth, her escape, and her life in the living world until she met your father and had you. You told her about your flashy, living fast life before your death. Lovers, enemies and friends all sprung back to you as you talked. You wondered, as you told her a story about a night at a club, if you lived a fulfilling life. It sounded so shallow out loud. You never made lasting connections, never settled down or stopped to relax. Everything was money, sex and power. Nothing meaningful remained to you. 

“Think of it like this,” she said when you told her this, “You're getting a second chance.”

“A second chance?”

“You're not a prisoner here anymore,” she said. “You're getting a second life down here; you can make those connections and have that meaningful feeling, whatever they might be.” She hesitated before saying, “You can start with those handsome men who adore you already.”

“They just like screwing me,” you scoffed. 

“It doesn’t seem that way to me.”

“You’ve only seen me with them for a few minutes, and we weren’t really talking to one another.”

She laughed at your words. “I don’t need to see it to feel it. I saw the four of you together, and I immediately sensed their protectiveness over you. How Seonghwa was quick to tell your grandmother that none of it was your fault; San holding your hand so comfortingly, telling you it would be okay-”

“-How?” 

“The flowers, Darling,” she said, the daffodil sprouted brand new as her words. “Sons of Lust do not attach to partners very easily. Most of them never marry or take up personal slaves. Yet, here are three of them being more than fond of a single person.” She let the flower swirl around her hand, “When you can see through your flowers, you’ll be able to watch them as much as they watch over you.” 

“My flowers…When can I learn how to do that?”

“With time and practice.” She then said, “I can teach you. If anyone should be showing you how to hone your talents, it should be another botanical sorceress, not a bunch of horny incubi.” 

“You’d do that?”

“Of course I would,” she smiled. “Why would I not? I would’ve been your teacher if you’d known sooner. You could also learn from your aunts, your cousins, your nieces-”

“-I have nieces?!-”

“-And your grandmother, of course, will insist on teaching you. They’re all masters in various aspects of our kind, so you wouldn’t be missing out on anything.”

“We’d love to teach you!”

You and your mother turned to see two women standing a few feet away. The blond wore a soft yellow gown while the brunette wore a lavender dress with floral borders. When they smiled at you, a special kind of warmth surged in your chest. You had never seen these women in your life, yet you felt as if you knew them. The same feeling you had with Artemis.

“YN,” your mother stood up and you copied her, “These are two of your aunts: Gaia,” the blond curtsied, “And Rhea.”

“Hello,” you smiled at them. 

“You really do look like Andromeda,” Rhea said in a low voice, marveling over you as they approached. “I always wondered what natural born daughters might look like. My own girls hardly look anything like me.”

“Neither do mine.”

“Your daughters? You mean, my cousins, right?”

“Yes,” Gaia giggled. “If a certain someone,” she shot a look to your mother, “Had told us about you in the beginning, you would’ve known all of us. Oh,” she hugged you tightly, which made you laugh, “How we’re so glad you’re here! We’re always happy to welcome a new daughter!”

“You had your turn, Sister,” Rhea told your mother, “We’re taking her to the rose gardens now.”

“No, Sisters, I think that’s too soon.”

“Too soon for a girl to meet the rest of her family?” she questioned, already taking your hand in hers. “Mother insists on it.” 

“My girls are going to love you!” Gaia beamed. 

*****

The rose gardens must've been an Eden daughter hangout. Several poofs, pillows and blankets scattered around like picnic spots with a pavilion in the center. Underneath it sat a group of girls in the flowing dressdz and floral crowns of Eden Ladies. They appeared to be chatting together with a spread of food and drinks in front of them. All of them looked like the epitome of beauty. You understood what Hongjoong meant by wishing he could stay. You would too, if you were him. 

“Ladies!” Gaia clapped her hands for attention, “Ladies!”

The girls all turned to look at her. “Your cousin is here,” Rhea said with a smile. “Lady YN, Marchioness of the Trees and a Lady of Eden. She’s your Aunt Andromeda’s daughter, so she's your first gen-”

“-Cousin!” The group cried in unison, rushing down the steps to you. 

You didn't have a moment to breathe before they were on you. Kisses, tight hugs and excited squeals surrounded you. Somehow, the group guided you over to the pillows and blankets in the pavilion without you realizing. You finally got a look at all four of them: you recognized Artemis, but you didn't know the other three. They all wore different flowers in their hair, likely signifying something about them. 

“Um, uh, hi?” you began with uncertainty. 

“YN,” Artemis began, “Allow me to introduce our first cousins: This is Kali, Aunt Rhea's daughter,” the brunette with the button nose and square jaw waved, “This is Hera, Aunt Aurora's daughter,” the freckled red haired girl smiled, “Aurora's your mother's sister; you haven't met her yet.”

“Okay, cool.”

“And I'm Hestia!” the youngest of them chimed in. She had lilies weaved into her long, coarse braid, and large almond eyes. “Sister Freya’s my mother. You haven't met her either but she's going to be thrilled when you do. We heard about you this morning, and we've gotten a bunch of stuff ready for you.”

“Like what?”

“Your garden patch for one,” said Hera. “We put all the tools you might need, if you're the kind to tend the plants by hand. I personally prefer using magic, but everyone's different.”

“There's also your room,” Kali said. “Grandmother said you can sleep in the room next to Andromeda’s, so you guys are together.”

“How was your talk with her?” asked Artemis curiously. “My mother said she'd kept you a big secret from us. You guys must have had fun catching up.”

“It was…special, for sure. I never thought I'd see her again,” you said. “I didn't know I was part demon until Seonghwa and his brothers bought me. Well,” you thought for a moment, “They technically stole me since San killed my previous owner-”

“-You were a slave?” asked Hestia, her eyes wide. “How terrible!”

“Yeah, for a while. But, it's how I found out who and what I am.”

“Wait, you mentioned Seonghwa,” said Kali. “Asmodeus’s son?”

“Yeah.” You saw their unsettled glances, “Why? What's wrong with that?”

“It's not that it's…” she exchanged a glance with Hera, who hid a giggle behind her hand. She then blurted out, “Oh my god, what are they like?!”

“Huh?”

“Are they romantic? Passionate?”

“What stuff do they like?!”

“They’re so dreamy,” Hestia swooned. “Seonghwa’s eyes are like deep pools I could stare in forever. He’s so sophisticated and smart.” 

“Hongjoong’s such a rebel,” said Hera, the tips of her ears turning pink. “He never does anything people tell him; he doesn’t act like the other men that come here. They’re all so boring.”

“And he’s so exciting!” beamed Kali. “I heard he used to go to the brothels in the city and buy the whole house for himself. One girl said he could go for hours.” 

“Ugh, gross,” said Aretmis with her arms crossed. “I can't believe you three. Daughters of Lilith fawning over useless man-things. It's shameful.”

“It's okay to look, Sister,” Hera reasoned. “We like men but we don't like them,” she explained to you. “They like seeing us women as playthings, so why shouldn't we see them the same way?” 

“I get that,” you nodded. “I used to be the same way. Men liked to use me, so I used them back. It definitely got me farther than it did for them.”

“Ooh, tell us more!”

You spent some time telling the girls about your experiences with men. From high school athletes to hot shot business guys, every man you’d slept with gained you something in return. Whether it be popularity, a higher status or money, you never hooked up with someone unless it benefitted you. The meaningful relationships you could have built really turned into stepping stones to something better. Once a guy began boring you or lost his purpose in your life, you found another. The men in clubs or bars were the morsels you devoured in between. Some treated you well, others not so much. By the time you entered enslavement, you’d learned how men think and act.

“They don’t act any differently down here,” you shrugged, picking at a grape from the spread. “It was rough at first, but once I figured out my place in the world, I adapted to it.”

“That must have been difficult still,” Artemis frowned. “Having men abuse you night after night, being demeaned and having your dignity stripped off you little by little…I’m surprised you’re not sick or pregnant from being in those places.”

“I guess I was lucky,” you shrugged. 

“Then you were bought by our uncles,” said Kali. 

“In a way. They’re saints compared to the way some men before have treated me.”

“What I can't get over is how you disrespected so many of your fellow women,” Artemis said. “Women are blood through our feminine spirit. You went around sleeping with other womens’ husbands and boyfriends to satisfy and secure your own needs. You speak about ruining people's relationships as if it doesn't matter to you. Didn't that bother you?”

“It does now, I suppose. I never thought of it like that. Breaking people up wasn't my intention.”

“Only an unexpected result,” she drawled. 

“But, they weren't the only casualties in your search for power and money,” Hera noted, sipping from a wine cup. “You were hurt as well. You might have not known it at the time, but those fleeting relationships left you empty inside. I know they must have. None of your lovers stayed, did they? They always picked their wives or girlfriends over you, didn't they?”

“Funny you mentioned that,” you said, finding the irony humorous. “I told my mother the same thing. I spent so much of my life floating around that I didn't make anything lasting. The friendships I had were shallow and self-serving. The romantic relationships I built could be torn down in minutes. I thought I was living at the time, and in a way I did, but was I really?” 

You heard the hedge nearby shift slightly, and every nerve in you stiffened. As the girls discussed their opinions on men, you took a whiff of the downwind scent. Cinnamon. Candy. Roses. Your boyfriends clearly hadn't gone to the men's quarters as directed. 

“Getting married and having children isn’t a marker of having lived well,” said Hestia. “That’s what my mother says. It can be for some people, but not everyone.”

“Being charitable, loving with your heart and building a home and community of people you care about,” said Artemis. “Scheming, cheating, lying, and ruining others' lives in pursuit of your own desires doesn’t sound meaningful to me. It sounds exhausting. It sounds lonely and sad at the end. Burning so many bridges leads to loneliness. I’m not saying you need to be best friends with everyone, but having people who love you isn’t bad.”

“My mother loved me,” you said out loud, though you hadn’t thought about it. “She loved me regardless of what I did or said. I…” you stopped eating the grapes. That sinking guilt weighed down your stomach, “I never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally.”

“As it should be.”

Their scent came to you once more. You turned your head to the bushes and called out. 

“I know you guys are there!”

“Huh?” Artemis looked in their direction, “Who's here?”

“Seonghwa, Hongjoong and San.”

“Where?” asked Hestia hopefully. 

“Behind the bushes,” you nodded toward the tall hedges lining the garden. “We know you’re there!”

“They're not allowed here,” the eldest said, crossing her arms. She stood up as she said, “Come out of the bushes, you! My grandmother is going to be livid when she finds out you're not in the men's area.”

“We come in peace, oh Divine One,” Hongjoong broke through the hedge first, hands up in surrender. “We wanted to make sure our beloved wasn't upset. She was nervous about coming, and we got worried.”

“As you can see, she's fine,” she replied. “You can leave.”

“Last time I checked,” Seonghwa and San appeared next, “You were a rank below us, so you can't tell us what to do, Marchioness.”

Artemis scowled, unable to refute this. “Let them stay, Cousin,” Kali said. “They obviously aren't here to hurt any of us.”

“Hm, yes,” she said spitefully, “They’re here to collect their plaything. YN’S a free woman now, and she doesn't need your permission or supervision to be here. So, go.”

“How was your visit, Darling?” San asked, ignoring her as he approached you. “I hope it didn't go too badly.”

“‘Darling’?” Artemis scoffed. “You even call her by demeaning nicknames?”

“It's not demeaning,” you told her. “I let them call me by their little pet names. It's cute,” you grinned back at San. “It went better than I thought. We sat and talked over tea for a while. I didn't realize exactly how much I missed her until then.”

“Grandmother will be furious if she finds out you're here.”

“But you ladies are so much more fun than that boring room,” said Seonghwa sitting between you and Hestia. “There isn't anything for me to do in there,” he told her, letting the suggestion linger to make the young woman giggle and blush. “What's your name, beautiful one?”

“Hestia,” she said shyly. 

“That's a beautiful name. You're one of Aurora's daughters, right?”

“No, Freya’s,” she shook her head. 

“Ah, yes, of course,” he said in fake realization. “You know, she's my favorite cousin.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and you're just as lovely as her.”. 

“Hi Hongjoong,” Hera said timidly, playing with her hair as he sat with her and Kali.

“Hello Hera,” he replied kindly. “Hello Kali.”

“You remember us?” Hera asked with a sweet smile. 

“How could I forget you two? The dance you both did at the Hallow’s Eve festival was…inspiring,” he smirked at their bashful faces. 

You couldn't help the stab of jealousy seeing the flirtation. San caught onto this right away, “It gets us to stay here,” he explained. “We wanted to see you. It really is boring in the men’s quarters. It's literally just a room with a table and a chair.”

“I still don't like it.”

“Flirting doesn't mean they love you less, Darling,” he said, brushing hair from your shoulder. “It's a bit of fun, that's all. You can have fun with us too,” he pecked your lips, “Lots of it.”

You chuckled softly, “Is this all I do for you? Turn you on?”

“You actually make me incredibly soft,” he admitted. “I used to think I had no weaknesses; I thought I was unstoppable, invincible. But then one night this human slave dressed as a succubus came into my life, looked at me with innocent eyes and became my everything. I only think of you. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, you're in the back of my mind. I know they feel the same way,” he nodded over to his brothers. “It's just in us to do this. We thought flirting with some of them might get us a ticket out of that stupid room. And, I don't know about you, it seems like it's working.”

“They need to go,” Artemis said once more.

“Artemis, they're not hurting anyone,” Kali said, smiling at Hongjoong. He relished in the attention from the two women, whispering to Hera who giggled. “That men's room really gets boring, and there's no food there.”

“You must be hungry, my lord,” said Hera. 

“Famished,” Hongjoong replied. They both chuckled when she fed him s strawberry.

“Me too,” said Seonghwa. “But, I think a kiss might stave off my hunger. Don't you think so, Hestia?”

“A kiss? Oh my…” she said, tucking hair behind her ear. “My grandmother would be upset if she heard I'd kissed you.”

“Which is why no kissing is happening,” snapped Artemis. “Can't you see what they're doing? You girls should be ashamed of giving into their charms so easily. Ladies of Eden don't conduct themselves like pleasure slaves. Grandmother will be furious when she finds out.”

“I can kiss more than one of you,” said Hongjoong, turning to her. “I've heard your kisses are quite sweet, Lady Artemis.”

“So did I,” Seonghwa grinned. “Kissing doesn't hurt. We can show you, if you'd like.”

“No, because I'm not that kind of woman,” she said crossly. “I'm getting Diana.”

“Come on, Artemis,” you spoke up. “They're only talking. Okay, flirting too,” you said distastefully, “But it's not like they're trying to hurt them.”

“You don't understand, YN. Men aren't allowed in Eden in the first place. Their intentions are never good, ever.”

“Hello, Lady Artemis.” Mingi’s deep voice came from behind her. Your bodyguard stood at the top step, hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his face. “It's nice to see you again.”

“Hello, Mingi,” she faced him, irritated by the men’s sudden appearance. “I was just telling your masters that they can't be here and neither can you.”

“I'm only a servant. I have no power over my masters, as you well know.” He took a step to her, “I thought we could go to your archery range? I saw you had a new bow and quiver, and I wondered if I could try it out.”

“Really?” she said, unconvinced. “So your masters can defile my sisters?”

“Defile is a harsh word. My masters never take a woman against her wishes, and you have my word on that.”

You saw him go closer to her, and by his soft eyes and smile, he worked his own incubus magic on her. San turned your head to him, and he kissed the corner of your mouth. His fingers trailed from the nape of your neck to your collarbone. You shuddered when he reached the neckline of your dress. 

“Can I see them?” he asked, kissing your neck. “I haven't seen them in so long. I need to touch them or I'll go insane.”

“Here? In the place you're not supposed to be that hates men who objectify women?” you laughed, amused by his eagerness.

“I'll risk it.”

“She broke a man on the wheel. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds awful.”

“Again,” he kissed your neckline, “I'll risk it. Besides, look at them.”

You turned to see Seonghwa giving flustered Hestia gentle kisses that slowly grew deeper. Hera and Kali took turns kissing Hongjoong, who rested against a pillar as both women felt up his chest. Mingi managed to lure Artemis away from the pavilion, leaving all of you alone. You thought your cousins might eventually snap out of it, and slap your boyfriends. However, things only became more heated, especially when Kali slipped her gown off her shoulders to show Hongjoong her breasts. He sighed when Hera did the same, groping one from each of them. 

“Would you like me to touch you?” you heard Seonghwa whisper to Hestia, “Or do you want to keep kissing a bit more?”

“Can we kiss a bit more?”

“Of course. Whatever you want to do, my lady.” 

He laid her down against the pillows, resting at her side as he continued kissing her. San’s lips distracted you once again, and you looked at him. “I suppose you can have a little peek,” you said, pushing down the top half of your dress and showing him the matching pink bra. 

You put his hands on them, inhaling when he squeezed them softly. San rested you on the cushions behind you as he started kissing down to your cleavage. He lifted your dress over your thighs, settling between them and tugging your bra under your tits. San let out a soft moan once he revealed them, then bent to kiss each of them. Your hands slid from the back of his neck into his hair, gripping the short strands to guide him over them. You could hear distant muffled moaning and soft kisses from nearby, but you became too entranced by San’s mouth on your nipples. Your brain connected each spark of pleasure to the spots his tongue hit, whimpering when he rapidly flicked one of them. A part of you knew how bad this might look. You knew you should stop, go home, and continue there. But, San’s cock brushed your naked core, and you slowly floated off. 

“You’re not wearing panties,” he whispered, kissing your lips softly. 

“They show through the dress layers,” you said. “Might be why everyone around here wears them. I think I might adopt the style.”

“Just to torture me, right?” he said, cupping your tits to suck your hard nipples. 

“No,” you shook your head, “To tease you all so much you bend me over the nearest surface and pound my pussy hard and fast.”

“You wouldn’t need to with those lips.” 

“It’s not as fun if I’m only kissing you to get dick,” you replied. You reached down to his groin where you felt his bulge. “I like getting it the old fashioned way.”

“Then I’ll give it to you the old fashioned way.” 

He’d started unbuckling his pants when a pale pink blur brushed near you. “What the hell is going on here?”

Your mother stood in the middle of the pavilion, hands on hips and outrage on her face. Her ‘scary mom’ face. Even years later in Hell, that face still struck fear in you. Quickly, you and your cousins covered yourselves up, while the men appeared annoyed at the sight of her. 

“We’re only having a bit of fun, Andromeda,” said Seonghwa, not moving from his spot with Hestia. You noticed her out of breath with swollen lips, with her hand on top of his where her breasts were. “No harm being done here.”

“Do you three have a death wish?” she hissed. “If anyone else finds you like this, they’ll have you strung up by your balls for sure.”

“Nobody would have if you hadn’t shown up,” Hongjoong said, clearly irritated at being interrupted. 

“Shut it, boy,” your mother spat. “Girls, I am very surprised and ashamed of you. If your grandmother heard about this, she’d have a fit. You know how she feels about you coupling with man-things, so imagine how she’d feel if she found out you were doing it in her gardens.”

“We’re sorry, Auntie,” said Hera, pushing hair from her face. 

“Yes, very,” added Kali. 

“Get yourselves together and go to your rooms,” she nodded towards the palace. “You’re lucky I’m not telling your mothers about this. I don’t care if you do it, just don’t do it here, got it?”

“Yes, Aunt Andromeda,” the three said together before getting up together. 

She then turned her attention to you, “YN, really? Is this the impression you want to give?”

“It sort of happened,” you said sheepishly. 

“Which is exactly what you said whenever I found your hand down a boys’ pants,” she spat. “Baby, if you didn’t want to live in the Black Keep anymore, you could say so. You don’t have to get your boyfriends tortured and killed to do it.”

“I would prefer to stay in tact, thanks,” said Seonghwa, standing up. “We only did it so we could see YN,” he told your mother. 

“Oh, please. You three just didn’t want to be stuck in the men’s quarters all day,” she accused them.

“That’s just an added bonus.” 

“Do you blame us though?” asked Hongjoong. “The men’s quarters are more like a prison cell than an actual room. Besides, we weren’t hurting anyone. We only intended to have a bit of consensual fun, that’s all.”

“You know how Lilith feels about men being in her garden and touching the ladies,” she scoffed. “You are fools for escaping. What if the guard went by and noticed you’re not there? You’d be hunted down just for that.” She took a deep breath, “You boys take YN home before the guards find you here.” She ran a hand through her hair, “I swear, you three…There’s certainly no dispute over whose children you are, that’s for sure. Only Asmodeus’s children would risk their necks for some tail.” She shook her head and took your hands, “Come here tomorrow and we can start your training. There’s so much you need to catch up on.”

“Hold on,” Seonghwa said, “YN’s being trained by myself and her head of house.”

“Not anymore,” she replied coolly. “If anyone should be teaching her, it is those who know her talents best. Besides, it gets you three out of her hair for a few hours.”

“It’s not like I do anything at home anyways,” you told him. “It’d be good for me to get out of the house and do something productive with my time. My closet is only so big.” You hugged your mother again, holding onto the memory of her a moment before letting go. “I'm….Mama….” you couldn't find the right parting words. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she repeated warmly, kissing your cheek. “Get sleep,” she peeked a glance at the men behind you, “Or as much as you can with them around.”

You laughed together before embracing again. Your inner child didn’t want to let her go. She wanted to hold onto her forever, clinging to the person she’d once loved the most. Your mother sensed this and hugged you tighter, her hand stroking your hair. When you forced yourself to release her, she kissed your cheek again. That surreal dread of a dream came back when you looked in her eyes. Apart from the scarlet ring around her irises, they matched yours. Except, yours always carried a look of disdain, while hers showed nothing but love. How could you do that to her? 

“Bye, honey cake,” she whispered, pecking your other cheek before stepping away. “Go, before Diana shows up.”

“Yeah, let’s get going,” agreed Hongjoong. 

“Go back the way you came, I’ll keep the guards away.” 

You hugged her one more time, letting her scent cleave to your nose, then left the garden. In the semi-darkness, the four of you snuck through the garden hedges and walls before coming upon a plain dirt path. In the distance, you heard people shouting to one another as they searched the grounds. You knew you’d need to be quick. Nerves began shooting up your body in each step, and the adrenaline started running down to your feet. You didn’t want to think what might happen if someone discovered you before you reached the castle again. Your first time in Eden and you’d broken a rule already. A warm hand stretched for yours, and you recognized San’s touch right away. He moved ahead of you, walking behind Seonghwa while Hongjoong remained at the rear. 

“There it is,” Seonghwa whispered when you all reached the staircase leading back up into the castle. 

“You!” a guard dressed in gold and white marched over to him, “Men are not allowed in Eden at dusk. What is your business here?”

“They’re with me,” you said before Seonghwa could speak. “I went to get them from the men’s room-place-thing and we got lost in the garden. It’s my first time here, so I don’t really know my way around yet.” 

The woman stared you up and down suspiciously. You thought she’d catch the lie, but instead she said, “I’ll escort you out, my lady. The gates close in a few minutes.”

“Yes, please. Lead the way.”

You followed the guard out to the front entrance where you’d met Artemis that afternoon. The women posted there bowed as you passed. It made you feel important for a second as you reached the carriage nearby. Mingi sat in the driver’s perch, his blond hair slightly tousled and lips a warm pink. He’d clearly found a way to distract Artemis. You all climbed into the carriage quickly, and Mingi cracked the reins. 

“I’m glad we made it out,” Hongjoong said, turning to peek into the window, “With our bones still in the right places.”

“Psh, you’re telling me…”

“Speaking of the right places,” San whispered, turning your head by the chin, “Where were we?”

A small chuckle came from your throat as your mouths came together in light kisses. Turning in your seat to face him, San immediately grabbed your breasts and his lips fell down your neck. The familiar hardness in your clit returned at the sudden stimulation. Fingers brushing over your nipples stirred the pot even more, his mouth reaching the neckline of your dress. You let your hands go through his dark hair to keep him close, occasionally feeling down the back of his neck and into his jacket before coming back up.

“Pull the top down,” Seonghwa ordered from nearby, and you turned to see him focusing on you and San. Hongjoong sat beside him, watching as intently. “We want to see them too.”

You lifted your back from the cushions to let San unclip the top part of your dress, then pull the zipper. Your arousal rose when he finally pulled the top half of your dress just beneath your breasts. They all moaned at the sight of your pink satin bra; their jaws dropped when San put them underneath to expose your breasts entirely. The brushing breeze from outside came in through the open windows, going over your nipples and making them cold. San remedied this with his hands and mouth: he scooped them in his palms and tenderly sucked one of them. He shifted around so your legs went over his lap, and immediately started caressing your thighs and legs. Fully on your back, you laid there enjoying his tender touches. Every brush against your skin sparked goosebumps up and down your arms; your soft whimpers became the only sound in the carriage. San eventually lifted up your dress, showing his brothers your bare sex. The three of them groaned. Seonghwa and Hongjoong rubbed their crotches while San squeezed your inner thighs.

“Sannie…” you whined, his thumb dangerously close to your pussy now.

“Give me a hand and touch yourself for me, hm?” he asked, licking your nipple in circles. “Open your legs a bit and let them see you get wet. You know how much we like that.”

They liked it a lot. Moving around until you sat on San’s lap, your back pressed to his chest, you let your legs fall on either side of his open knees. Your sex throbbed at the hands groping your chest, and the lips kissing up your neck and shoulder. You pointedly sucked and wet your fingers, keeping your eyes on the two men in front of you. Your middle and ring finger dragged down your tongue as a real cock might, and then went back up to the last knuckle. The outlines of their dicks started pressing into the pants as they watched your fuck your own mouth. They followed your fingers then down to your damp sex, mouths falling open when you lightly slid them up and down your opening. You went with the natural motions: stroking yourself as you sunk into your pussy little by little. Once past the outer folds, you circled your hard clit on top. Small shocks of pleasure came each time you ran over the center, pushing underneath and back to the hood. In the dimness of the carriage, both of them could see your pussy growing wetter. San tweaking your nipples at the same time added more coal to the fire. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t speed up. You kept the same gradual pace, even spreading your pussy open for them to see your hardening clitoris and empty hole.

“Let me have a little lick,” Hongjoong said, his high voice strangely low as he leaned forward. You trembled at the few swats of his tongue, keeping it open with both hands for him. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned, idly moving the tip of his tongue over your clit. “I can eat this forever.”

“Move over,” scolded Seonghwa, pulling Hongjoong away. “I want a taste too.”

Using the flat of his tongue, Seonghwa shook his head to brush over your clit. Then, he took it in his mouth to suck the juices leaking from you. You whined when he withdrew, but San’s fingers fixed that soon enough. He took your clit between index and ring finger and stroked it. You grinded into his hand when you felt his middle finger dip towards your entrance each time, wanting to be filled with it. Your hands gripped the ends of his jacket behind you, trying to keep still as he rubbed your pussy side to side in light, rapid brushes. When he pulled away, his brothers each took a turn doing the same. The brief pauses in between kept you dangling on the edge. You yelped when Hongjoong started tapping and slapping your aching pussy, occasionally shoving fingers inside before pulling them out to smack it again. The twinges of pain only aroused you further. San and Seonghwa followed suit, also smacking and partially fingering you. When both Seonghwa and Hongjoong pushed a finger inside, San continued spanking your pussy.

“It’s been a while since we’ve fucked her together,” said Hongjoong, watching your reactions to his fingers curling alongside his brother’s. “That’s why she’s not wearing panties.” He pushed right to that squishy, soft spot that drove you wild, “You wanted to fuck us in that garden, didn’t you? You were hoping we’d all take a turn in your slutty cunt?”

“Yes,” you whimpered. “I love it when you all fuck me at the same time. It feels so good. I love getting treated like your fuck toy.”

“Then that’s what our little lady will get,” Seonghwa smirked, pushing his fingers faster. “Good thing I told Mingi to take the long way home.”

San rested you on the seat again, lifting one leg over his shoulder to keep you displayed for the others. Anticipation bubbled in your stomach, lowering the further you saw San move. Holding onto the end, San slowly slid the tip up and down the slit to only bring on more torture for you. Nails embedding themselves into the smooth fabric, you grinded to it in hopes of getting him inside you. 

“You're so needy,” he growled, smirking down at you before finally pushing the tip. “My pretty Darling always gets so wet,” he withdrew just to rub until a slick sound came out, “You hear that?” he asked, tapping your clit, “That's how wet you are. I love getting you like this,” he breathed finally putting the head inside again, “I love seeing my girl desperately wriggling around to get my dick.” 

“She's so cute when she does it,” said Hongjoong. “It's even cuter when she's tied up with no way to get what she wants.”

“I like it when she pretends she's a virgin,” Seonghwa said in a raspy voice. “When she gets on her back,” he started stroking faster, “And tells me she's never done it. It's so cute.”

“Corruption kink to the max,” Hongjokng chuckled. 

“Do you like it when we do this?” San asked you, languidly rocking his hips to yours. “Do you like us treating you like a little cock sleeve?”

“Yes,” you gasped, holding onto his shoulders. The slight stretch made you see stars. “Yes, I do. Just like when we did it the first time,” you said, head sinking to the pillow behind you as he rolled his rips. “When you all fucked me as long as you wanted…”

“You want us to do that again, Kitten?” asked Seonghwa. 

“Please…” A whimper came through when San shoved himself particularly deep, holding onto his forearm as he did it. 

“How's her hole today?” asked Hongjoong, eyes heavy with lust and arousal. 

“Tight,” San said, starting to go faster, “And warm. I could fuck this forever.”

“Look how easy she takes it,” Seonghwa moaned. “Even after all this time, her holes are perfect.”

“You mean ‘our holes’,” Hongjoong said. “Because this,” he knelt beside you, still stroking with one hand while shoving fingers into your mouth, “And that belongs to us. I don't care if you don't wear a collar anymore. We still own your slutty holes,” he groaned when you sucked his fingers, letting him push them further. 

“That's right,” Seonghwa said, reaching over to your swollen clit. “This pussy is ours. We get to fuck it whenever we want.”

“Not like she says no,” San said, grunting as he kept his strokes hard and deep. “She loves dick too much to not pass it up. Look at her right now,” he made a few quick pumps to hear you moan around Hongjoong’s fingers. “She pratically begged me to fuck her.”

“Because she's a whore,” said Seonghwa. He gave your clit a few sharp smacks before rubbing it again, “You can take the whore out of the brothel, but you can't take the brothel out of the whore. Isn't that right, Kitten? Are you a filthy whore?”

“Mmhmph,” you nodded. 

They all laughed, jeering at your answer. When your moans grew louder, they taunted you further. The moment you clenched around San, he moved faster straight into the knot driving you wild. 

“Oh, she's gonna cum,” he announced, “I can feel that hole getting tighter.”

“Is that true, slut?” Hongjoong asked you, removing his fingers to slather around your lips. “Are you going to cum?”

“Yes! Yes, oh my god, yes!” 

“Then go ahead,” he said.

“Go on,” gibed Seonghwa, spitting on your sex, “Cum.”

They continued goding you until you finally came. Hard hitting, all the muscles in your body stiffened. San came right after, pumping into you wildly as his orgasm took over. The feeling of his squirting inside prolonged your climax. The hands and cock keeping you going played with the sensitivity causing you to move away. 

“No, no, no,” said Seonghwa, “You're gonna take that no matter how sensitive it gets.” 

“That’s right,” said San, teasing you with his wet tip, “You stay there.”

“Rock, paper, scissors for next turn?” Hongjoong suggested to Seonghwa once San finished. 

“Sure. Best two out of three.”

You watched through heavy eyes as they played the game. San, meanwhile, continued pushing his cum back into you. You could do this forever in this carriage. 

“Yes!” Hongjoong cheered when he won the third round. “Turn her around. I'm going to fuck her like the bitch she is, he said, fixing his pants at his thighs as San and him switched positions. Seonghwa and San flipped you over, giving the eldest a space in front of you. 

“Whores always like having more than one cock at a time,” he said, forcing your head into his lap. His length went all the way to the back of your throat, and you swore you might come again even sooner. “Don’t you dare stop sucking,” he warned, slapping your ass harshly. “Don't miss a fucking beat. I want that mouth on me the entire time. You got that, bitch?”

You nodded, and your obedience amused them. He held onto your hair while Hongjoong shoved himself inside. All the pent up arousal from earlier unleashed itself in his hips. Hands grabbing your ass, Hongjoong did not take the gradual pace like San. You felt every push from entry to end just like Seonghwa did. The feeling of them both abusing you had you shaking in their grasp. No matter how much saliva and precum leaked from your mouth, you did not withdraw. Even when Hongjoong started hitting a different angle, making you shudder and moan around him, you didn't stop. Your pussy tightened when Seonghwa held your head against his groin for several seconds, laughing at your choking, before lifting you to the head where you drew a few breaths. 

“You fucking love that,” Seonghwa groaned, pushing you back down. “I'm glad because I like shoving my dick down pretty throats like yours.”

“And I love fucking their pussies right after,” Hongjoong breathed, a whimper coming right after. “Oh fuck, I'm going to fucking cum. Stay right there.”

You came right as he withdrew, bursting with nothing inside you to coat. Hot streams fell onto your lower back and ass cheeks, leaking down between them where Hongjoong rolled it again. Neither brother gave you time to breathe as Seonghwa pulled you onto his lap.

“Fuck me,” he ordered, smacking your ass, “I'm not pushing into you. You're doing the work, not me.”

You held onto the back of the seat, pulling at the decorative drapes, as you started bouncing on him. “Don't stop,” he said, watching you ride him, “If you stop, I swear…”

Even with the burning sensation in your thighs, causing you to shake and tremble, you didn't stop. Whenever he sensed you slowing down, he'd slap your ass to keep you going. But, the strain began weighing you down. You tried pushing yourself by your legs instead, though this position made that hard to do. Eventually, you made the mistake of stopping to catch your breath and ease your aching thighs. 

“Did I say you could stop?” asked Seonghwa harshly. “Huh?” a light tap to your face excites you, “Why did you stop?”

“It….It hurts.”

“Do I look like I care?” he grunted, smacking your ass even harder, sending more pleasure through your body. “Do I?”

“No, sir,” you whimpered. 

“I have to do everything around here,” he lifted you up to put you on your back again. “What's the point in a whore if she doesn't fuck the way I like?”

Raising your legs over your head, Seonghwa dove right back into you. He wasn't the gentle dominant partner you were used to. Something primal came over him as he pounded you into the seat. It delighted and aroused you. 

“Master,” you said, surprised by his roughness, “You're being so rough with me.”

“You're a whore,” he gritted, “Why should I care about being gentle?” Yet, for the briefest moment he stopped, “Am I going too hard? I'm not hurting you too much?”

“I love it,” you assured him, pushing hair from his face, “So much.”

“Of course, you do.”

He kept the same speed until he had you squirting around him. Seeing the squirt come out of you caused Seonghwa’s own orgasm. He withdrew the second he reached the edge, and began jerking himself over you. He pinched your nose to force your mouth open, and made you take the cum shooting from his tip. His load splattered your chin and mouth, droplets falling on your outstretched tongue until he finished completely. 

“How was that?” he asked, fingers pushing hair away from your face.

“So good,” you smiled, cleaning the dick with your tongue. “I can't get enough.”

“You can have more when we get home, baby,” Hongjoong insisted, wiping cum from your chin to slide into your mouth. “As much as you want.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said, kissing you softly. “We'll even do it in my room so we can play with all your favorite toys too.”

“I personally love watching you cum all over toys,” said San. “That way you're already nice and wet when I fuck you.”

“I just like watching you cry when I overstimulate you,” shrugged Hongjoong. 

You all laughed right as the carriage stopped right in front of the house. You knew you wouldn't be sleeping tonight and you didn't mind at all. 

***

A/N: awww see? everything worked out in the end. I'm not sure when I'll be posting another one of these, but I will be posting for this one still lol Thanks so much for reading, and please don't forget to reblog and like <3

[stark-ironman]

Sugar daddy hugh touching you under the table at some fancy event, LOOK AT HIM

https://x.com/lokispoem/status/1826978276893401192?s=46

Sugar Daddy Hugh: 2

18+ No Minors

A/N: I love you for this. Yall always come thru with the links 😮‍💨 I love sugar daddy! Hugh. I recommend watching the link too 😉

Warnings: public fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it), daddy kink, basically a slow burn love story atp

Hugh leads you into the luxurious building, gripping your hand tightly as you both walk through the crowd. He pulls a chair out for you allowing you to sit before sitting beside you and resting his hand on your thigh. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asks, noticing you're a little extra quiet tonight.

"I'm just not used to... all this, I guess. I know you've brought me to plenty events and parties but I'm still shocked by them." You slowly say, looking around at the fancy decorations. "You'll get used to it after a while. Honestly, I rarely pay attention to it anymore." Hugh tells you with a small smile, gripping your hand again and bringing it to his lips, kissing it softly.

"I'm afraid once I get used to it, you wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore." The words fall from your mouth before you can stop them, feeling Hugh's eyes automatically lock onto you. "Quit talking like that, princess. You know I will always want you." He sternly says, his jaw clenching slightly.

Before you can respond, the waiter walks up and sets two drinks and two plates of food down in front of you, thanking him quietly before reaching for your champagne. Hugh keeps his eyes on you while he slowly eats his food, placing a hand back on your thigh.

The sound of soft music from the band fills the air causing you to slowly zone out but Hugh's thumb rubbing slowly back and forth keeps you from fully zoning out.

"How's your chicken?" He asks, moving his hand up higher. You glance over at him to see what he's doing but he keeps his eyes on his plate, eating the vegetables that came with the meal. "It's good." You squeak as his fingers ghost over your panties.

Your eyes frantically scan the room, noticing no one is paying attention to either one of you and his long fingers slowly press against your clit, a light almost teasing move that causes your hips to shift towards his hand. "You okay, princess?" He innocently asks, pressing his fingers harder against the dampening fabric.

You nod, focusing on your plate as you notice Hugh leaning towards you from your peripheral vision. His warm breath over your ear sends a shiver through your body, hearing him whisper, "I think I asked you a question, princess." "I'm okay, daddy." Your voice is shaky, causing him to smirk and his fingers to finally slide in your panties.

"So wet.. is that all for daddy?" He chuckles, leaning back in his chair as if it's the most casual thing in the world. The band starts playing a louder song, causing majority of the people to run to the dance floor while the others stay behind to drink and chat, not paying mind to neither you or Hugh.

His fingers slide past your folds and slowly move inside of you, causing you to moan but you quickly bite your lip. Hugh moves his fingers abruptly, smirking as he brings them up to your lips. "There you go, princess." Hugh coos as he stands up and grabs your hand, leading you towards the bathroom.

He locks the door behind him, turning around and kisses you deeply while pushing you up against the sink. "How many times do I have to tell you that you're all I want, love?" Hugh asks, pulling your dress up and sets you on the sink as you notice the change in your nickname.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You whimper but he shakes his head. He pulls his erect cock out of his pants, quickly sinking inside of you causing you to moan out. His hand clasps down on your mouth while he pounds into you.

Hugh's eyes connect with yours, the sound of your skin slapping against one another and the sink slightly rocking fills the little bathroom but at this point you don't care who hears. He leans down and kisses you again, your legs wrapping around his waist as you feel your orgasm creeping up.

His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing quickly as you start trembling against him. Hugh moans against your lips once both of your releases hit and he slowly continues to move inside of you, holding you close to him.

"If you could see yourself the way I see you, you would never question my love or loyalty to you. Quit running yourself down because you don't think you're good enough, you're everything I've ever wanted and more." Hugh tells you and your heart skips a beat at his confession but instead of saying something, you hold him close and listen to his heartbeat.

"C'mon, let's get cleaned up and go home." He says, kissing your forehead softly.

[draconic-desire]

🔥 Let the World Burn 🔥

Yandere Scar x Reader

Trapped in his Elysium, you’re ready to fight to the end to avoid the “evolution” Scar so desperately wants from you. But you’ve underestimated that he’ll let it all burn to ashes in order to get what he really wants—you.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, forced imprisonment, brief depictions of mild violence/gore. Ends in a cliffhanger so lmk if I should write some follow up content… Also because WuWa is so new I’m not familiar with all the lore yet so bear with me!

Sweat drips down your face and into your eyes, blurring your vision. Your breathing is shallow, too fast, and you can barely hear over the sound of your pounding heart and rushing blood. The grip on your broadsword tightens as you ground yourself back into reality and face your opponent.

Just in time; the next attack thrown at you is dodged with milliseconds to spare. Claws graze your skin as you twirl and swing your weapon down, seeing your opening—only to be met with a kick that sends you flying back once again.

Your worn and bruised body tumbles along the ground, littering your skin with even more injuries. Something rips across your back as you roll, and you cry out in pain at the burn. Your broadsword flies in the opposite direction, leaving you defenseless.

The world spins, and sounds fade to a dull ringing in your ears as a pair of red boots fills your line of sight.

“Awww, giving up so soon? And just when we were starting to have fun!” The sensation of leather against your chin as your head is lifted upwards by the toe of the boot. Gritting your teeth, your eyes lock with heterochromatic red and black, the gaze that has been haunting you, hunting you.

Scar tilts his head, peering down at you with a smug, lopsided grin. A glowing card twirls on the tip of his index finger. He thinks he likes you like this—at his feet, peppered with scars from his claws, at his mercy. The color red suits you; he imagines licking up the blood from your wounds, and his smirk grows.

“Fuck you,” you snarl, slapping his foot away as you struggle to your knees. Coughing, you turn your head and spit, staining the ground crimson. You quickly wipe your forearm across your mouth and begin to stand, only to be met with the edge of a searing card to your neck. One wrong move and you’re sure the Overseer won’t hesitate to burn that ram insignia into your neck.

In fact, he’d probably prefer to brand you. You’re well aware that this man views you as his prey, delusional enough to think that he has a claim over you.

Scar clicks his tongue sympathetically, but his smile reveals he’s relishing your suffering all too much. “You understand how futile this is, right? My Elysium can only be disrupted by coordinated attacks from both sides—and believe me, my dear, I ensured that no one is coming to save you.”

For a moment your stomach drops, before you steel your nerves. No, you have to hold onto the hope that your allies—Rover, Jinhsi, Sanhua, all of Jinzhou—are alive and fighting to free you. Without that belief…you swallow thickly.

As if sensing your thoughts, the Overseer sighs loudly. “Even when it’s just the two of us, you can never focus solely on me! It hurts my feelings, you know.” He spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the domain in which he’s had you trapped for Sentinels’ know how long. “I even whisked you away on this little date for my big proposal! So how about you finally listen to me?”

“I’m listening,” you grind out—as you swiftly unsheath the dagger at your thigh and swing it up towards his ribs.

The weapon is immediately severed in two by his flaming card, likely thrown even before you reacted. The pieces thud uselessly to the ground.

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts, kneeling down and gripping your chin in a vice that makes you squirm. He barks out a laugh as you thrash to no avail. “So stubborn! Do I have to crush you to make you behave for once?”

Teeth bared, you lunge at his hand with your teeth, but he as you pinned. “You’re a maniac!”

His grin only widens, pulling taut to the corners of his mouth. “Self proclaimed!” Scar leans in, so close you can feel his breath on your sweaty skin, too hot from the heat searing around you. Your heart plummets as he scours over your face, eyes lingering on your lips for far too long before he tilts his chin up and away teasingly.

After numerous encounters, countless clashes of ideals and battles later—all of which he orchestrated, just to see you again—Scar has learned your patterns, your tells. He knows exactly how to rile you up, and it’s when your emotions get the better of you that he gains the upper hand like this. He finds you utterly irresistible wearing that glowering scowl on your lips, though he’d prefer to kiss it away…or bite those lips until they bleed.

“Well, now that I’m down on one knee,” he giggles, “how about we get back to the reason I brought you here, hm? My proposal?”

“I told you before,” you growl, “you’ll have to kill me before I willingly join the Fractsidus.”

By this point, you’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve “serendipitously” crossed paths with Scar—his way of phrasing stalking—and heard this same speech. How the Fractsidus, how he, wants you, needs you. How he sensed the difference in your frequency, how you’ve been selected to lead the new line of humans, capable of fusing with Tacet Discords. That you should abandon your principles, your friends and city, to stand by his side as the true Lament brings about the next evolution of your species.

No matter how many times you told him off or sparred with him, he persisted. Almost as if your rejections only fueled his obsession with you and your abilities, the urge you had to fight every time you encountered an Echo.

“That hunger,” he’d said, stalking towards you as he gazed at the top of the Tacet Mark between your collarbones, the rest of which disappeared vertically down your sternum, “I felt it too. If you would just embrace it, like me, you’d know what true power feels like. Join me, and we can usher in the future.”

“Tsk, another missed opportunity.” That round, you whirled around to find him perched on a rooftop, observing as your Pengu Terminal sucked in the golden Echo of a Fusion Dreadmane. “Imagine having those abilities all for yourself! Does that really sound so bad?”

“I’m getting impatient, my dear.” You’d been expecting him that time, but not so close, chest pressed firmly against your back—and certainly not the talon-tipped finger he’d sensually traced up your chest, lining your Mark. “You’d better start seriously considering my deal, or else there may be consequences. And I’d so hate to hurt you.”

Today must have been your ultimatum.

“Normally I would just dispose of you,” he shrugs, as if chatting about the weather and not murder, “but you’re a special case. I have different plans for you, my dear.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. “You’re even crazier than I imagined, then, if you think I’ll consider anything you have to say.”

“Are you sure? I thought a hero type such as yourself would be begging to know.”

He’s baiting you, and like a fish to a fly, you fall into the obvious trap. “What, you’ll keep me imprisoned here until I give in? Pull out a diamond ring?”

Your attitude falters at the devious smirk he flashes you. “Not quite.”

The sound of snapping fingers, and the Elysium domain rapidly melts away—only to pull away the curtain and reveal the horrifying truth behind.

“No,” you breathe as the reality of his plan sinks in.

The outline of the city materializes around you. Not Jinzhou. In fact, based on the sheer level carnage—buildings in ruin, bodies strewn across the streets, blood painting the ground in splatters of bright crimson—you’re positive there are no Resonators for miles. No one is coming to save these people—it’s as if they were placed here for the slaughter, lambs delivered to the beast that rages before you.

Sensing your arrival, the Tacet Discord known as the Delirium Lioness spins and snarls, baring saber-teeth smeared with the gore of its latest victim. It claws at the ground with massive purple and grey paws, readying to charge. That is when you notice the teddy bear crushed under its gait, and your mind shatters.

It was all an illusion. The whole time you were trapped in Elysium was to stall for this—Scar had the Lioness dropped into this innocent town, knowing that you would stop at nothing to eradicate it and save those whom you still could. And you know exactly what the asking price will be.

You don’t even think twice before you react. Broadsword in hand, having reappeared once the domain broke, you lunge to meet the TD in combat—and in doing so, you sign your own fate.

The sound of steel meeting bone rings through the air as the Delirium Lioness parries your first strike with its fangs. You strain as it bites down on the blade, attempting to crush your weapon. With a roar, you send a shockwave of Spectro through the blade, blasting the TD backwards. Bystanders scream as the creature quickly recovers, and you yell at them to flee. No one else will die today.

The entire time, you can hear Scar chuckling behind you.

The Lioness prowls forward. As it prepares to pounce, you see your chance. You stand your ground, not moving a muscle as it lunges towards you. At the last moment, you drop onto your back and slash the broadsword across the beast’s belly as it careens over you. It screeches as you eviscerate it, exploding into a million golden particles above you—an Echo.

Clapping reverberates through the now still streets. “Bravo!” Hands pull you up, and a shockingly gentle finger brushes your cheek. “(Y/n), my little hero. Seems you’ve figured out my proposal before I could pop the question myself.”

The Tacet Mark on your sternum flashes, calling to the Lioness’s Echo. Up until now, you’ve been able to suppress the call for your body to absorb the TD’s afterimage. But now, you have no choice. If you don’t give in to the desire that Scar has expressed all along, then today will just repeat itself over and over until you do. He said he wouldn’t kill you, but that future, with the promise of so many more lives lost, would be worst than death.

Shaking your head, you drop your sword and pound your fists into his chest. You can’t look at him directly. “Why?” You choke on your own words as tears stream down your cheeks. “I would have listened to you. To avoid this, I would have—” Another sob wracks your body. “I would have given you anything, everything.”

Scar angles your chin upwards so you have no choice but to look him in the eye. His expression is surprisingly collected, his touch too light for a man who just committed such a heinous crime. “My dear, I would let the entire world burn to make you mine. You can’t have evolution without extinction, after all. This may be the end for them, but it is only the beginning for us.”

He kisses you then, longingly, languidly. Like a man enjoying every last taste and sensation of a final meal. You want to struggle, but what’s the point anymore? Even when he ghosts his claws across your neck, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing lightly, you let him without a fight.

He pulls away, smiling at you and your expression, so broken and defeated, and once again at his mercy. Finally, finally you are his, and you will be so much more after your transformation. Ever since he first found you, he knew that only you could ever match his frequency, could join him on his throne of fire and ashes. He drags a claw across your lip, drawing blood, which he quickly laps up with his tongue. You taste even more delicious than he could have imagined.

He can’t wait to taste you in every way possible.

Savoring the flavor of your blood, he motions toward the Echo. “Come now, dear. It’s time you fulfilled your end of the proposal.”

Yes, his proposal. The one he has hounded you with: for you to willingly absorb a TD, becoming exactly like him. A monster. His pet, his prey, his alone to have.

To save others, to protect Jinzhou from this demon, you’ll accept that fate.

You close your eyes and let the reverberation in.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Trey Clover: Eyes Up Here

Wow, glasses off Trey? He’s still making the same one brow lifted smirk though 😂 HE KINDA LOOKS LIKE SEBEK WITHOUT THE GLASSES... I don’t know how to describe this artwork + this voice other than saying “Trey fans all want one thing and it’s disgusting”/j; he just seems to attract people that are really into the beefy dad types.

Trey’s Campwear jacket also had Painted on it. I wonder if that’s a brand in the Twst world? And his cardigan is the color of dentist scrubs—

Rise and Shine!

Mornings were a blur. Not that they went by fast, but they were literally a blur.

When Trey woke, his surroundings were smears of color. Slapped together indiscriminately, no clear form or boundaries between the hues. It’s not until he slipped his spectacles on that everything cleared up, sharpening into proper shapes and recognizable objects.

Running a hand through his short hair, he gave a yawn as he wandered into the washroom. The ceiling was curved and patterned like the sky. Paired with grass-like tiles and flowery sinks and lamps, the space created the illusion of stepping outside.

The washroom was shared among all of the dorm's residents. A few of them had been so bold as to leave their toiletries around: deodorant sticks, labelled bottles of shampoo and conditioner. But there was never any mistaking of Trey’s things for another’s.

He was the only one with an entire case to carry his dental hygiene routine. There was: a main toothbrush (changed to a new one every 3-4 months, or whenever he noticed significant bristle damage), several specialized toothbrushes (one for the back, one for scraping the tongue...), two spares, a selection of flavored toothpastes (fluoride added), and three containers of floss.

No mouthwash though--"It washes away too much," Trey would tell anyone who was willing to listen, "the bad bacteria and the good. All the saliva and mucous. We need those things to have a healthy, thriving oral microbiome."

“There are 810 rules by the Queen of Hearts,” the Heartslabyul students often joked, “and just as many steps in the vice dorm leader’s teeth cleaning routine.”

"Come on, guys. It's not that long," he'd say. "The dentist recommends two minutes, twice a day. I only take a little more than that to make sure I get in all the crevices..."

Trey counted the seconds as he ran his toothbrushes along his teeth, his gums, his hard palate, his tongue and under it. Five minutes, including flossing and rinsing.

See? Not that long. He’d have to tell his dorm mates when he could.

He held out a hand in front of his mouth and exhaled. A puff of air was trapped for just long enough for him to catch a whiff of minty freshness.

Alright.

Satisfied, he left with his bag and books.

Students peeled down Main Street, on their way to class. He was one of hundreds, living his ordinary life.

And he liked it that way.

Trey squinted. A circle in his vision was out of focus.

He removed his glasses to check for imperfections. And, sure enough, there was a bead of water in the middle of his lenses—likely a stray fleck from when he had been diligently cleaning his mouth. In a blink of that blurred world, he wiped the glasses up and placed them back on his nose.

Everything returned to full clarity.

“Good morning, Trey-senpai!” a voice called out to him.

He slowed his walk, allowing you to match his pace. His mouth cocked to one side as you pulled into view. “Morning.”

There’s a faint cloud hanging around him. Something sweet, yet also bright. Minty sugar, you think, leaning into it. Mmmmm.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Trey asked, and you laughed.

“That’s so dad of you to say.”

“Breakfast is an important meal of the day.” Trey adjusted his frames. A flash of white-his teeth. “So? Did you?”

“Wellllll…” You let your voice trail off.

The white had vanished behind his lips, but your gaze still lingered there. You knew you were staring, but you couldn’t tear yourself away.

“Hey now.” He tapped the rim of his glasses. “My eyes are up here.”

“Oh, sorry!” you startled, face warming. “It’s just… you have a really nice smile. It’s hard not to notice it.”

“Is that right?” He chuckled, easily laughing—not at you, never at you, but with you. “I’m flattered. Most people don’t seem to appreciate one.”

“No one in your dorm?”

“No. I’m pretty sure most of the guys in Heartslabyul think what I do’s a little excessive. Even Riddle doesn’t totally get it.”

“They must be jealous. The results speak for themselves.”

“That’s kind of you. Hey, you know what?" Trey leaned down, cupping a hand to his mouth. His voice was amplified in your ear.

Your heart leapt, thudding like the feet of a rabbit scampering down a dirt path. Your flesh was on fire, though Trey laid not a single finger on you.

"Y-Yes?!"

"I think you have a really nice smile too."

He smirked—and fireworks went off in your head. One, two, three. Colorful flowers blooming in the sky.

Your hands flew to your cheeks, as if that would somehow help to cool you off.

“Haha, are you embarrassed?” Trey’s eyes crinkled, as they always did, when he was amused. “I’m glad I got to see it up close and personal for myself. It was worth it.”

“M-My eyes are up here,” you managed to shoot back. Scathingly, you hoped.

His responding grin was crooked. For a second, you saw the him that hid behind humility, the not-so-kind Trey. His kind, toothy smile laced with a trace of poison.

“My bad. I see now I should’ve been nicer to you.”

“Was that a dad joke?!”

“Maybe. Who’s to know?”

[ohdeersthings]

Hear Me

Neteyam x Metkayina!F!Deaf!Reader

Summary: Neteyam thought you were the most beauitful thing in the world, yet you never seemed to respond to him.

Warning: Reader is Deaf!, Fluff, Angst (went you squint)

*not my best work, I've just had this in my head for the last few days and needed to get some form of it out*

When you had been born, the first child of Tonowari and Ronal, a great celebration had been held. They sang songs of what you would accomplish in the future, praised your name to Eywa for a blessing of a child. It didn't take long for your parents to notice you were, different.

You never reacted when someone approached or called your name. You never flinched from loud noises, only when something jumped out or you turned to suddenly see something you didn't know.

Your speech was different too, only able to make simple noises than actually talk. Able to communicate through the Clans Sign Language, but never completely with words.

Ronal prayed to Eywa for an answer, visiting the Spirit Tree to seek help. Only for a vision of silence to flash behind her eyes when she had made the connection to the tree.

You were deaf. Eywa blessed you with many things, beauty, grace, compassion and kindness.

But not the ability to hear.

Never able to hear the beautiful songs of the Tulkun, never to sing in tune with your brothers and sisters, yet you were an amazing dancer.

It took many months and years of everyday practice and routine for you and your clan to adjust to you. What you lacked in hearing, you made up in sight and touch.

You could feel the slightest change in area, quick to take others down with a elegance to it that had many young Na'vi boys swooning. You could feel the vibrations in the sand, the netting, the water. Able to change course and react before something happens.

When the day of the Sully's arrival had happened, you had been out on the Ilus with your sister, Tsireya. You lounged in the water, eyes closed as you felt the waves caress your body before shadows flashed your eyelids, eyes opening to see five Ikran's flying overhead to the main village.

Reya motioned for your attention, your eyes meeting her figure as she signed to you, 'We must hurry, they've signaled an arrival'

You nodded, connecting with your Ilu and both of you racing to the beach front. Exiting the water, you noticed six dark blue Na'vi standing there.

Reya seemed to have caught the attention of the second oldest son, his eyes quickly averting from her figure. You smiled, nudging her slightly as you made your way through the crowd that had gathered.

Many men and boys quickly moved aside for you, a smile in return you graced them.

Your brother Ao'nung had been pointing at them with a cocky smirk on his face, his friend Rotxo laughing along. Although, you could only tell he was laughing from the way his shoulders and diaphragm moved.

Feeling that it was something bad being said, you went between the both of them, slapping the sides of their arms as a warning. Reya had also slapped them, both boys quickly stopping their verbal assault.

You made eye contact with the oldest boy, a Na'vi around your age. His eyes were so bright, you could see the flecks of gold against the yellow. He made a gesture of hello, you smiling and slightly nodding your head in acknowledgement.

Your Father's sudden appearance beside you made you slightly jump, too caught up in the boy to notice the sand shifting beside you.

Meeting his face, his eyes read for you to back up so you did, your Mother soon making her way to the crowd aswell.

You could only watch as the exchange happened, the father of the other group seeming to plead with your own father. Ronal poked and prodded at the family, pulling the second sons hands into the air to show his five fingers.

Looking to Reya for help, she simply signed, 'They seek to stay, wanting refuge with us' causing you to become confused, your eyes narrowing toward the group. What could be happening that forest Na'vi come here of all places?

Seeing your father and mother start to dismiss them, you reached out for your fathers arm, his eyes snapping to you, your Mother also looking intently as you signed one thing.

'Help' and gestured to the family.

Your parents made eye contact, seeming to understand. They turned back to the other family, nodding and exchanging words before addressing the rest of the clan.

Your Father gestured to your siblings, his hand coming onto your shoulders as you assumed he introduced you. You smiled, slightly bowing your head in greeting.

Your brother of course didn't like whatever was being said, stepping forward to speak out but your father quickly shut him down.

'Show them the way' he told you, Reya grabbing your hand and leading the family away.

You glided next to your sister it seemed, your eyes casting out to the open blue water, the air gently touching your cheeks as the wind blew. Neteyam wondered about you.

You haven't said anything, yet you and your family communicated using, hands? It confused him, water Na'vi. Tsireya had explained to them how and when things would happen, she was the only one talking to them out of the pair of siblings.

Maybe you were just being nice? Nice hello gesture and that's it? You wouldn't talk to them, would look at them. We're you freaked out of their "Demon Blood"? Was being a different type of Na'vi really that off putting?

"Here we are, I hope its to your liking," Tsireya smiled, stopping at the new home of the Sullys, you accidently bumping into her as you hadn't been watching where you were going. You laughed silently, a hand on her back as an apology.

"Lessons begin this afternoon! I hope you all settle quickly," Tsireya bid goodbye, taking your hand and motioning for you to follow. You waved goodbye to the family and followed your younger sister, both of you a vision of beauty in the sunlight.

~.~

You had already been down in the water when you felt the splashes nearby, turning to see your siblings and Rotxo dive in, swimming over to you. You greeted them, looking past to see the Forest Na'vi trying to follow but kept going up to the surface.

The four of you were confused so you followed them up, motioning to them confused. They began to talk, but you waved your hands, unable to hear them.

Tsireya came up, asking for you aloud what was wrong and why they weren't just breathing.

The youngest sibling, a little girl, struggled to keep up so you took it upon yourself to help steady her in the water, the oldest boy watching you closely with Tuk.

Tuk began to thank you, your eyes meeting Rotxo who was closer, 'Tuk says thank you,' you smiled at the girl as Rotxo told her she was welcome. Tuk and Neteyam looked at eachother, both confused on why you wouldn't answer yourself.

Neteyam and Lo'ak had told them they didn't understand anything they were doing. "What is this...finger, hand motion thing you guys do? We have no clue, yet you always speak it, especially with her," Gesturing to you who was spinning Tuk in a circle in the water, the youngest one laughing in joy. You didn't acknowledge them, even though you were the center of the conversation now.

"Don't bring her into this," Ao'nung growled, teething baring. "I will teach you, as will (Y/n), believe me, you'll learn it quick with her," Tsireya assured, splashing water at you to gain attention.

You stopped, Tuk giggling as you turned to face them. Eyes dashing at each of the siblings, they all just stared making you nervous. Did you miss something important? Were you supposed to say something?

Ao'nung waved you off with a soft smile, making you return it. Your Father appeared on the shoreline, waving his hand to signal for you.

Letting out a yell in acknowledgement, you handed Tuk off to Neteyam. His eyes stayed trained on you as you swam off, your body cutting through the water like a sharp knife, but yet it didn't disturb the water. The water seemed to bend around your body.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Tsireya asked, smiling at Neteyam, "yeah," he trailed off before realizing what he just said outloud. "I mean, for a water Na'vi," he added quickly, Kiri rolling her eyes at her stupid brother.

'Morons, all of them,' she thought.

"So why doesn't she respond?" Lo'ak asked, his eyebrows contorting in confusion.

Ao'nung and Tsireya shared a look, Rotxo simply shaking his head.

"That is not our information to share, but please be patient with her," Tsireya pleaded, her big eyes making Lo'ak melt, "she is very bright and smart, but please, just be patient as you learn more about her,"

The Sully siblings looked at eachother before confirming with a nod to the water Na'vi.

~.~

Neteyam stared at you from a distance, you currently teaching some of the younger children how to dance. The way your hands moved, elegantly and flowing, like water. A smile on your face, eyes focusing on a child who grabbed your attention, their hands moving. You did it back, again, no verbal reply.

"Is there a reason you're staring at the Olo'eyktan's daughter?" His father gained Neteyam's attention back, his eyes wide. "I wasn't staring at her," Neteyam replied, looking back down at the fish they were currently gutting and cleaning for dinner.

"I mean I can see why, your age, beautiful, good with kids, anything else you wanna add?" Jake joked, Neteyam feeling his face get warm. "He hasn't said a word to her," Kiri chirped, Neteyam glaring with sharp eyes, his teeth bared in warning.

"Oh? Now you're telling me my oldest son can't talk to a girl?" Jake pressured, Neytiri sending him a look, a look to tread lightly.

"Its not that, it's that she never responds," Neteyam clarified, but he knew it really was because he was worried to talk to her.

"That's cause she's-" Neytiri slapped a hand over her mates mouth, her eyes basically shutting him up.

"She's to tell them, not you," Neytiri warned, Jake nodding, Neytiri releasing him.

~.~

At the clans dinner, many banged drums and danced to the beat. Chanting and singing drawled out into the night sky, footsteps marking in the sand by a large bonfire.

At the center of it was you, your head bobbing as you felt the vibrations through the sand, your feet and your spirit. Tsireya beside you as you guided her through the movements, her eyes suddenly catching the oldest son, turning you toward him and motioning for you to grab him.

You did just that, teething gleaming from a smile as you grabbed his hand, gesturing for him to come dance. "No thanks," he tried, but you just pulled him up and dragged him out to the sand.

"No, (Y/n), I don't dance!" He tried to explain but you just carried on, smiling and waving at him to join. He was soon grabbed by other Na'vi who had started a dance circle, hands and arms linked as they jumped and chanted. You laughed, a weird chortle but Neteyam could only grin back.

When the ceremonies had started to die down, you grabbed his hand and gestured him to follow, his eyes trying to find his family to see if they were watching him slip away.

"So where are we going?" He questioned, of course you didn't hear, you just kept running through the bushes, leading him somewhere special.

"Is there a reason you never respond?" He tried again, still nothing.

Finally having enough of a one way conversation, he grabbed your hand, stopping the movement going forward. You turned, face showing confusion.

"Where are we going?" He annunciated slowly, you waving your hands, pointing to your ears.

"What? If you're listening then reply," he urged, frustration growing. You hummed, trying again.

'I can't hear you,' you signed, but he only groaned, eyes rolling. "What are you saying," he growled, angry at himself and you. This was all so annoying.

You took his hands, placing them on your ears and pushing them down. "What you don't wanna listen? Don't wanna hear?" He raided an eyebrow, you looking at him with a quirked eyebrow, hinting at something.

He just shrugged, so you placed your hands on his ears, smashing them down. "Ow! Now I can't hear-" it dawned on him, mouth dropping open as his eyes stared into yours.

All this time you hadn't meant to ignore or be rude. You were oblivious or an airhead. You just couldn't hear. He grabbed your hands softly, bringing them off his head and holding them close to his chest as you both stared at each other.

'Understand?' You signed, Neteyam still struggling to figure out all the signs your clan had but nodded slowly, almost like he knew what you did say.

"You can't hear? Nothing?" You had learned to read lips a little over the years so you briefly nodded, Neteyam looking at you in a different light.

He'd always thought you were beautiful to begin with. Your smile alone could distract him, make him weak in the knees. The way you cared for your clan and his family even, made him feel warm inside. Of course, not many words were expressed between you two, but he couldn't help an attraction, a pull almost, towards you.

You could say the same. His strength that was displayed everyday was very invigorating, his protectiveness over his family made you feel safe as well. The way he seemed to go with the flow even if he didn't want to reminded you of water. The softness of his hands squeezing yours brought you out of your day dream.

He smiled at you, your eyes bright with warmth as he allowed you to continue the way you had been trying to go moments before.

Coming to a open pool of water, hundreds of jelly like fish swam. All glowing bright, iridescent colors.

Neteyam looked around in awe, turning to you in amazement as you let out a chortle, him finding it the most beautiful sound ever.

He watched the way your skin glowed in the light of the fish, your eyes reflecting both the light and the night sky. 'Beautiful' he signed, one thing he did remember from Tsireyas instruction earlier.

You felt your face grow warm, suddenly bashful under his gaze as you looked downward. Many boys had told you you were pretty, but hearing it from Neteyam, a boy from another clan. Someone who had just stayed learning your ways was different. It made you feel nervous, yet excited.

He reached his hand out, cupping your chin to make your eyes met again. "Don't hide from me," he grinned, you not hearing his words but felt the love behind them from his hand on your face that you leaned into as it moves up to your cheek, cradling you softly.

"I know you can't hear me," he let go of your face, his turning inward as he tried to remember everything Tsireya taught him earlier. "I see you, (Y/n)" he gestured, you suddenly beaming as you titled your head giddy like.

"I see you, Neteyam," you signed back, his arm coming around you to pull you in close. Maybe you couldn't hear his words, but you sure did feel them.

[steddie-island]

Ogling motherfucker

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles summer pop-up event Rating: M | WC: 999 | TW for mild injury, mentions of blood ao3

“Eddie. Dude.” Gareth kicked Eddie’s sneaker. Judging from his annoyance, it wasn’t the first time his name had been said. “Are you stoned?”

“God, I wish,” Eddie laughed. Even his strongest shit couldn’t win against a heatwave that knocked the power out in half the goddamn town, which was what had brought them to the pool in the first place, and why he was staring at Steve fucking Harrington instead of listening to his best friend. It was Steve's fault for walking around in the tightest red shorts Eddie had ever seen. As if the way they hugged his ass wasn't enough, they were so short that Eddie wondered if he would be able to see the underside of Steve's asscheeks if he bent over. 

Eddie was having a hard time not picturing himself sliding a hand up one of the legs, over Steve's ass, down towards–

“Oh my god.”

“What!” Eddie jumped at Gareth’s tone. Gareth’s face flickered between horror, disgust, and delight, making it clear he wasn't sure how he felt, but Eddie was caught red-handed.

“You were ogling King Steve.” Gareth poked Eddie’s shoulder before Eddie could argue. “That's why we’re here!”

Eddie squawked indignantly. “Fuck you, no it isn't! I wanted to swim!”

“But you're not swimming, you're ogling.” Gareth shook his head. “You gross, horny, ogling motherfucker.”

Eddie wanted to hide behind his hair, but it was piled up on top of his head. “Fine. You wanna swim so bad? I'll take you swimming!” Eddie’s shoulder caught Gareth's stomach as he stood. He lifted the other boy onto his shoulder, and then he sprang into the pool.

Eddie’d been so obsessed with getting Gareth to shut the fuck up that he hadn’t watched where he was heading. They fell too fast, his head hit concrete, and the world went dark. 

***

“Munson, you with me, man?”

Eddie coughed up water. Everything was too bright except for the dark outline of a person above him. He blinked to try to clear his vision. 

Ah, fuck. 

Steve’s brow was furrowed as he touched Eddie’s forehead, making Eddie hiss before slapping his hand away. 

“What the fuck–”

“You got knocked out when you jumped in,” Steve said gently. 

Eddie noticed the crowd that had gathered around them, and Gareth’s worried face. “Ah, shit, no.” He tried to sit up but the world rolled around him. 

“You probably have a concussion. Don’t get up–”

“‘M not laying here,” Eddie said. He unsuccessfully tried to nudge Steve out of the way and got a strong arm around his waist instead. 

“C’mon, stop being a stubborn asshole and let me help you.” Steve pulled Eddie’s arm over his shoulder and hefted him to his feet. He called for Heather to take over as he walked Eddie inside. 

The air conditioner was working, thank fuck. Eddie melted into a plastic chair. “I’m fine, Harrington, don’t gotta bandage me up–”

“Shut up,” Steve said as he pulled his own chair up. Eddie tried not to think about how fucking close they were, how their legs slotted together, putting Steve’s knee close to his dick. 

One of those big hands cupped Eddie’s neck before Steve dabbed at his forehead. “Fuck, that’s tender.”

“Don’t be a baby.” Steve gently wiped at the blood, and leaned impossibly closer to inspect how deep the gash on Eddie’s forehead was. 

“Am I gonna live, doc?” Eddie tried not to sound nervous, like he wasn’t inhaling the scent of cologne, chlorine, and sunblock where his face practically touched Steve’s shoulder. 

“I think so.” There was a crinkling sound, then Steve stuck something to his forehead. “That’ll keep it closed and stop the bleeding.” He sat Eddie back up but didn’t pull away.

The sunlight turned Steve’s eyes a golden amber color. Eddie could make out every freckle, every mole, every hair. His lips looked so fucking soft. Eddie wondered what lip balm he used. 

It was like he couldn’t help it. Their eyes met, Eddie’s breath caught, and then he was surging forward to kiss those lips. It was clumsy and messy, their teeth bumped and Eddie was sure he didn’t even hit part of Steve’s mouth–

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry–” Eddie was ready to throw himself out of the chair and run away. “I don’t know why I did that–” 

“Easy, Munson.” Steve didn’t sound pissed, which was not what Eddie had expected at all. He sounded amused. 

“Why aren’t you kicking my ass?” Eddie sat back. “Not that I’m not grateful, but why aren’t you pounding me into the pavement? I just kissed you.”

“I know that.” Steve’s eyes were even prettier when he was smiling like he was in on a secret that Eddie wasn’t privy to. “I’m a shitty fighter. If I kicked the ass of every non-expert guy I’ve kissed, I don’t think I’d ever leave the hospital.”

There was an almost audible record-scratch. “I… you… guys…?” Eddie asked. 

Steve laughed as he closed the first aid kit. “Yeah, man. I’m bi. People are hot, why limit myself?”

It was the concussion talking. King Steve wasn’t really sitting here, coming out to make him feel better for outing himself. Right?

“Where’d you learn to kiss, anyway?” Steve asked as he put the first aid kit away. Eddie watched his muscular shoulders, the dimples of his back, the way his shorts rode up– “Munson.” 

“Huh?” Eddie pulled his eyes away from Steve’s ass. 

“I said, where’d you learn to kiss like that?” Steve dropped back into his chair. “You could use some more lessons.” 

“You offering, big boy?” Eddie’s head ached, he was sunburnt. That stopped mattering when Steve leaned close enough for their lips to almost touch.

“They do recommend you have someone with you for twenty-four hours after a concussion,” Steve murmured. “What kind of lifeguard would I be if I left you alone, after you’ve been watching me all day…”

Their lips met again before Eddie could defend himself. 

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - It's Always Been You

Requested: yes

Prompt: 4) "You deserve better."

Warnings: nope, but long iwl

As the paddock seemed normal in it's all too familiar business and loudness, Y/n found solace in between hospitality lounges, with the stacks of Red Bull Racing tyres as her only form of company. The scent of rubber and gasoline enveloped her as she sought refuge from the shattered pieces of her heart. Tears streaked down her cheeks, leaving a trail of black from her eyeliner. As the sister of Max Verstappen, Y/n was no stranger to the high-speed world of Formula 1. Her heart, however, had taken an unexpected detour when she fell for Carlos Sainz, the charming driver who had once occupied a special place in her life. She remembers when she first met him, back when her twin and him were teammates. There was always casual flirting but then when Y/n finished up school in 2016, the pair began going on dates since her visits to the paddock became more and more common, then becoming basically constant once they made it official. They were the it couple and it felt like no other couple could compare. How they looked at eachother, how they spoke of one another, it seemed too good good be true...until the faithful night after the Singapore Grand Prix win when Carlos decided to call it quits.

The music pulsed through the air as Carlos downed one shot after another, his laughter filling the space. Y/n, his girlfriend, tried to catch his attention, but he seemed oblivious, lost in the sea of people. "Carlos? I  wanna go dance." Y/n said. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead." Carlos replied, turning back to his group of instagram models who fanned over him, all desperate for the same thing; dick and clout. She rolled her eyes and walked away. "Fine, do whatever." As she walked away, the girls began giggling at her little outburst and Carlos didn't once stick up for Y/n. He was never like this before. He wasn't even like this at their romantic dinner the night before. But Y/n got on with it and did what she wanted to do; dance.

As she lost herself in the music, a man managed to gather the courage and make his way towards her. "Hey gorgeous." The stranger smiled, dancing along with Y/n. Since Carlos was surrounded by these stupid instagram models, the least Y/n could do was talk to a guy surely. "Hey." Their conversation continued until the topic of relationships came up, to which Y/n said that she had a boyfriend.

"I don't see him." The stranger grinned, leaning closer. "Well, you see that guy up there with the huge bottle of champagne?" The guy nodded. "That's my boyfriend. Carlos. He just won the Grand Prix a few hours ago." The stranger looked between the spaniard and Y/n. "He looks occupied." He said, referring to the hoard of girls surrounding him. "Honestly, who gives a fuck. The only reason he won it was because Red Bull had a fuck up." The man laughed at Y/n's drunken joke, but she couldn't help but feel bad for undermining her boyfriend's hard work.

As she swayed with her newfound dance partner, Carlos watched from afar, a twinge of jealousy gnawing at him. His strides became purposeful, marching towards the dancing couple. His vision blurry, he poked the stranger. He turned. "Hey, you're Y/n's boyfriend. How you doing man?" He asked, putting his hand out. Carlos slapped it away. "Yeah, whatever. Who are you?" Y/n arched a brow at the sudden rudeness of Carlos. "I've been talking to Y/n since you've been occupied." He joked. "Are you accusing me of cheating on my girlfriend?"

"Carlos, what the fuck?" Y/n asked. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, no, I know what you want and you're not going to get it." Carlos began shoving the guy. "Because when I go back to my hotel room, I'm going to have her on her knees and screaming my name, while you sit by yourself with your left hand doing all the work-"

Carlos was silenced by a hard thump to the face, that ended with both his lip and nose bleeding. Carlos stumbled back, holding his nose. "Carlos!" Y/n rushed to his side, concern etched across her face. "Carlos, we need to leave. This is getting out of hand." He pushed her away, his drunken gaze defiant. "I don't need you. I can handle myself." Ignoring her, he swung at the guy, completely missing him and falling to the floor. "Carlos, we're going." Y/n repeated, this time more stern. Carlos scoffed and despite the chaos, Y/n managed to guide Carlos outside and hailed a cab. The ride home was tense, filled with silence interrupted only by the distant sounds of the city nightlife.

As Y/n scanned their key card, Carlos lay against the wall beside the door, looking at Y/n with pure hatred in his eyes. "You're such a bitch sometimes." He muttered. Y/n turned to him. "Excuse me?" The door beeped and Carlos practically burst it down. "You heard me. You're You're a bitch sometimes." Y/n closed the door behind her and followed Carlos to the bed where he kicked off his shoes. "How am I a bitch? People were filming you and I don't think you want to answer to your PR people tomorrow morning." Y/n rolled her eyes and sat down on the sofa, taking her heels off promptly. "Okay? You're still a bitch. I could have taken him."  Y/n's frustration bubbled over as she demanded an explanation. "Carlos, what's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

Carlos glared at her, venom in his words. "I'm tired of this, Y/n. I don't want you in my life anymore." Stunned, Y/n pleaded. "Carlos, what are you tired of? We don't argue ever. Please, let's talk about it in the morning. You're drunk, and we can figure things out then." But Carlos was resolute. "No, I want you gone now. Pack your things and leave." Her eyes flickered as a few tears had fallen.

"You're so shit at this mate!" Max cackled, taking another sip of his beer whilst Pierre missed yet another goal on FIFA. The hotel room was filled with laughter as a few drivers had finished their clubbinv prematurely to instead play a few games of FIFA. The camaraderie and banter echoed through the room, creating a light atmosphere that temporarily eased the pressures of the racing world. Amid the gaming frenzy, a sudden knock on the door disrupted the jovial mood. "I'll get it." Charles said, walking towards the door. He expected some food from room service since they paid for it, but instead he was surprised to find Y/n Verstappen standing there, tears streaming down her face. "Hi, Charles." She sniffled.

"Y/n. Are you okay? What happened?" Charles asked, genuine concern etched on his face. Y/n, struggling to compose herself, managed to choke out. "Is Max here?"

Charles nodded, realizing something serious must have transpired. He stepped aside, allowing Y/n to enter the room. "Max? It's Y/n." The laughter hushed as the other drivers sensed the shift in the atmosphere. Max stood up. "Y/n? What's wrong?" A few words had been spoken in Dutch and it seemed that each word Y/n said, made Max angrier. The other drivers simply watched on, wanting to see what happened. "Where is he?" Max demanded in a demanding tone. "Max, please don't. That's the last thing I need tonight." Y/n pleaded. "No, I'm getting dad and we are sorting this." Max replied. "Max, no! He'll kill him!"

"And I will bury him. Don't worry about it." The drivers shared glances amongst one another as the siblings had run out of the room, closing the door behind them. "Are we going to see what happens or what?" Charles asks. "Seems like family stuff. I am leaving them to it." Pierre replied. "Seems logical." Lando added. Charles groaned as he left the room, following the sounds of loud shouting in both Dutch and English.

He looked down to see two figures banging on Carlos' door. "You don't treat my sister like this!" Max shouted as Y/n pulled from his arm, trying to deter him. "Max! Stop!" Charles shouted, trying to mediate, urging everyone to calm down. "If someone did this to your sister, you'd you'd the same!" Max shouted back at Charles. "Max! Not here! There are people trying to sleep." Charles said, reasoning with the dutchman. The commotion drew the attention of hotel staff and even a few curious guests. "Get out here, you fucking pussy!" Max had begun kicking the door now, not caring if it broke and deciding he'd worry about it if the door did break. The chaos continued until Max's father, joined the fray. The yelling and banging intensified, creating a scene that could be heard throughout the hotel.

Eventually, the rage subsided, as everyone agreed that Carlos must have passed out drunk and that it was a conversation best having in the morning. Max and Jos walked away as Charles stood by Y/n, tear-stained and emotionally drained. "Do you have a place to stay?" Charles asked. "I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind letting you stay." Y/n shook her head. "No. They're playing FIFA I don't want to have to kick them all out." Y/n replied. "Then I'll let you have my bed and Ill sleep on the floor." Charles offered. She smiled. "As nice as you're being right now, I don't need your pity. Im just going to fall asleep in my room and deal with this in the morning." She said. "Y/n, you can't possibly do that. I wouldn't wouldn't sleep in the same bed as him. You deserve better." Before Charles could even trg to convince her, she opened the door, re-entered her and Carlos' hotel room and closed it again without another word.

She had moved on from Carlos. In all honesty, she hadn't heard a lot from him. That was until she had come to her first Grand Prix single in 8 years. It felt weird not having someone to hold hands with, but she got on with it, showing her poker face and pretending not to care about her recent breakup. As she walked, she noticed an all too familiar spaniard, holding a gorgeous woman in his arms. It was a model, a model Y/n had seen on the catwalk of the Ferrari fashion event. That's where they must have met...back when Carlos was still in a relationship with Y/n. And that's how she found herself hiding like a kid scared of the dark, in between the Red Bull and Ferrari hospitality where no one could find her.

"Are you okay?" Y/n jumped as she wiped her eyes. "I- yeah. I'm fine. Who are-" She paused as she looked up to see Charles walking towards her. "What are you doing here?" Charles asked. "Inspecting the tyres, you?" Y/n replied quickly, drying her eyes. "Talking with the tyre inspector." Charles replied, sitting down next to her. Y/n looked up, her eyes swollen but grateful for the company. "Why are you crying?" Charles asked. "It's just-" Yhe tears had started again. "Carlos' new girlfriend is so much prettier, and she's so much skinnier and her hair is different, her eyes are different, we are just nothing alike and Carlos is just so happy with her." Y/n sobbed. Charles wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to him as her tears stained his red shirt. "He's moved on and I'm sat, befriending stacks of tyres."

"Well that's not true. I'm not a stack of tyres, am I?" Y/n chuckled at the light hearted joke Charles had made. "No, no you're not." She replied. "You seem to be much nicer to talk to than a set of tyres, to be fair." Unbeknownst to her, Charles had been silently witnessing the intricate dance of emotions unfolding in the paddock. His infatuation with Y/n had started years ago, at one of Max's early kart races.

"Charles, you cut me off there! You could've caused a crash," Max argued, frustration evident in his voice. Charles, eager to impress Y/n, tried to maintain composure. "Max, I had the racing line! You should've anticipated my move." He chuckled, looking over to Y/n subtly to see her reaction. "Anticipated? You came out of nowhere!" Max shot back. As Charles vehemently defended his position, Y/n couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She expected a spirited rivalry, but Charles's insistence on being right grated on her nerves.

"Charles, back down. You know I'm right." Max urged, trying to defuse the tension. Yet, Charles, fueled by both competitiveness and a desire to impress, doubled down. "Max, I won't back down when I'm right." The harder Charles pushed, the more Y/n saw a side of him she didn't like. She began to see why Max always yelled about how much of a diclhead Charles was and she fully agreed now. "Charles, seriously, I will be to the stewards about it." Max insisted, the frustration evident in his tone. But Charles, in his pursuit of proving himself, didn't heed the advice. As the argument escalated, Y/n couldn't help but feel a growing distaste for Charles.

"You know what, Charles? Forget it. We're done talking," Max declared, grabbing his helmet and walking away with Y/n behind him. "Hij is een klootzak." Y/n muttered. "Ah, dus nu zie je die kant van hem?"

"Why are you even here? Don't you hate me?" Y/n asked, too tired to move her head from his shoulder. Charles sighed. "I never hated you, Y/n. You started hating me so I pretended to hate you back." Her brow furrowed in confusion. "But you always seemed so distant, so cold." Charles cast his gaze downward, confessing, "I didn't want Max to think I was interfering. I liked you from when I was in karting, but you started dating Carlos and I just gave up."

"I wish I had known, Charles," Y/n admitted, wiping away tears. "I could've used a friend." Charles offered a reassuring smile. "Well, you have one now. And if you'll let me, maybe more than just a friend." She sighed. "As much as I would love to, I just don't think I'm ready to have a boyfriend, let alone date my ex's teammate." Y/n replied. "That's fine. He's out of a Ferrari seat for next year anyway." Y/n smiled. "Listen, I don't care how long it takes. I've waited like what, 15 years already? I may as well hold on for another while."

[slttygeto]

CURSING MY NAME, WISHING I STAYED.

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you never got the chance to say goodbye to each other in 2007, you never thought you needed to. ten years later, you are still unable to find the right words as you stand in front of his lifeless body. if suguru geto was truly dead, who was the man standing in front you almost a year later?

જ⁀➴ content warning: angst, hurt/no comfort, manga spoilers, slapping and choking.

જ⁀➴ word count: 1,4k

જ⁀➴ note: this was requested about a year ago and I only got the chance to work on it today. enjoy :)!

You never associate Suguru with spring, despite it being such a lovely season, you remember it being the one season where he decided he needed to pull away. It was subtle, but you could feel it. He ate less, spoke less, he didn’t want to hang out as usual. You didn’t go on missions anymore, but you tried to be present. Even when summer came around and all hell broke loose.

You associate Suguru with autumn. Satoru doesn’t say a single word when you say it loud, when you tell him that that the orange leaves falling down and painting the road remind you of your past lover, how your love for him felt that way when he left—fragile, easily crushed. But Satoru would beg to differ. He could see it in your eyes, how they refuse to meet his when Yaga brings up the man’s name. It hurts to lose a best friend, but it hurts even more when you have a best friend and a lover in the same person.

Ten years later on Christmas Eve, Satoru has to put his best friend to rest. He doesn’t need to call you or tell you where he is, you just know. You show up as Suguru is taking his last breath and you stand there, unmoving. Your love for Suguru didn’t feel like autumn anymore. The tears running down your face were warm, and your chin was quivering as you let out a pathetic sob.

“I’m sorry.” What was Suguru apologizing for? For killing people or for betraying the people he loved the most? You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, didn’t even bother to wipe the tears blurring your vision. You just stared at him, how a smile was dancing on his lips as he saw the two people he loved the most standing in front of him.

“Perhaps in another life,” Suguru’s voice is quiet, and you seem to take notice of how pale he looks. “I am who you’ve always wanted me to be.”

You wanted him to be many things, but it seemed unfair for him. If Suguru was truly unhappy while in Jujutsu high, then maybe you were never meant to be together. If he couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world, then perhaps destiny played its cards wrong. If you were never able to keep Suguru around, then Suguru was never yours to keep in the first place.

You watch as the life slowly fades out of his body, and Satoru turns away from the corpse of his best as you kneel down in front of it and hold his lifeless body in your arms, the heart wrenching sobs that you let out force the strongest sorcerer to stand behind you and place a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s time to go.”

--

 “You’re late, (name).” You never associated Suguru with autumn after his death. In fact, no season could do your past lover justice. Yet the person standing in front of you reminded you of winter—cold, mean and lifeless.

Why was Suguru standing in front of you?

You and Satoru are unmoving as the familiar body of your best friend and lover approaches the two of you. You don’t speak, your lips are frozen as you stare in shock at the same person whom you’ve been mourning his death for the past twelve months.

Geto Suguru passed away on December 24th. You’ve been mourning his absence for almost a year—so who was this person standing in front of you?

“I don’t remember you being this quiet, my love.” The pet name sent shivers down your spine, and you watched as the hand of your past lover reached towards your face to hold it. You craved this, to be held by him again after so long, to feel the warmth of the one person who promised you a lifetime of happiness—only to break that promise so soon. You pull away harshly when the tip of his fingers touches your cheek, and Geto Suguru seems to find your hesitance extremely funny.

“Who are you?” You step back towards Gojo, and you don’t need to look his way to know that he was just as taken aback as you were. Wide blue eyes staring in shock at his best friend—his one and only. It was sad that Geto Suguru (while he was still alive) was your enemy for longer than he was a loved one or a best friend.

“Geto Suguru of course.” Liar.

“My six eyes…” Satoru starts, and your heart breaks at how panicked he sounds. “My six eyes are telling me that you are Geto Suguru.”

But he wasn’t Suguru. This wasn’t the man you fell for, nor the man you fought last year. You refused to believe that he somehow came back to life. Not when you kneeled in front of his corpse and held him in your arms.

“But my soul knows otherwise! So hurry up and tell us, who the hell are you?!”

It’s a gut wrenching feeling as you watch the man in front of you open up Geto’s head and toy with it as he wished. He lets out an ugly laugh, one that doesn’t match Suguru’s beauty.

“It’s a cursed technique that allows me to hop between bodies by switching brains. Of course, it lets me use the innate techniques within the body, I coveted his cursed manipulation and these exact circumstances.” His eyes then land on you and a sinister smile is dancing on his lips.

“You,” he starts, taking one step forward towards you. “As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories, begged Gojo Satoru and Shoko Ieiri to not get rid of Geto Suguru’s body, am I right?”

As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories.

You didn’t know what to react to first. His words felt like a thousand burning knives, each one stabbing you from a different side. You fight back the urge to jump on him, you know you’re at disadvantage because Satoru was bound to this prison realm.

“I did.” Your response is short and quick, and the man in front of you chuckles at how dry you sound.

“He loves you a lot, you know?” Kenjaku pauses for a second, and the time he takes before continuing makes you feel as though he was mocking you. “Always wished he could trade places with the strongest sorcerer. You two were close, it always nagged him.”

This wasn’t true. This could never be true because Satoru and Suguru were closer than ever. You don’t remember a single instance where you felt as though Suguru was jealous of his best friend. This man was trying to shatter you in hopes of trapping you the same way he trapped Gojo Satoru.

“How are you gonna let yourself get used like this, huh?” Satoru sounds enraged. “Tell me, Suguru!”  

You are just as shocked as Kenjaku when his neck twists, a sign of resistance when hearing Satoru’s loud yell. It was almost as if he heard him and wanted to wake up, to free himself of the man who was using his body to toy with the feelings of his loved ones. He then laughs, and again it sounds evil as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Ha! No way! This is a first for me,” his eyes then fall on your frozen figure and by the look on his face, he was up to no good.

His hand makes its way towards you and wraps around your neck, you get that his intention was to choke you. But when his hand refuses to squeeze around your neck, the look on his face turns into an annoyed one. Kenjaku couldn’t hurt you, Suguru didn’t let him.

Unfortunately, he still had more control than the original soul occupying the body and his hand manages to grab your neck and push you up against the wall, knocking the wind out of your chest.

“You’re getting in the way.” No matter how hard Gojo tried to shift the attention back on him, Kenjaku seemed to want to get rid of you and as fast as possible. You find yourself thrown next to Satoru, tied up in similar bounds.

“Goodnight, my love.” His hand caresses your cheek, and you’re forced to feel his cold touch against your skin. You hear a smack and your cheek stings, teary eyes forced to stare into his cold ones when he roughly grabs your jaw.

“Let us meet in the new world.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[elliecoco372]

TW// intox, dubcon, somno

we’re sitting around the table with our friends, laughing and catching up, when she reaches into her purse and produces a pill. she drops it into my palm, and i look down at it. i know what it is; i know what it’ll do to me. i toss it back and take a swig of water to wash it down.

about 15 minutes later, things start to change. i realize that i haven’t been keeping up with the conversation, and when i turn to her to ask what was just said, my vision goes blurry.

“are you tired, sweetheart?” she smirks.

i manage to nod, and before i can even process the goodbyes, we’re driving home.

- her arm around my waist in the driveway -

- her fingers fidgeting with the keys -

- holding me tight as she leads me upstairs -

- the comfort of lying in bed, eyes finally closed -

when i feel her start to tug at my belt. i open my eyes and force my head up to see her standing at the foot of the bed, wearing nothing but a bra, as she slides my skirt down past my feet.

my head falls back, eyelids heavier than ever before, and i begin to doze off for a moment. suddenly i’m pulled back to alertness by the cold shock of her fingers pressed against my hole. she applies the lube gently, then softly forces two fingers past the entrance until they’re buried inside me.

“now you’re ready for me, baby.”

i try to nod, but my head is too heavy to move at all. it doesn’t matter anyways; she’s going to use me no matter what.

as her cock slips forcefully into me, i fully give in and let her take advantage of my limp body. i lie there for what could be hours, or days, or just moments, fading in and out of consciousness, as she groans and squeezes my thighs tightly and rams her length into me over and over and over again.

the sensation of her hips slapping against my ass repeatedly gives me reassurance that she’s enjoying me. i’m feeling good, too — not that that matters.

i’m barely clinging to the waking world when i feel her start to thrust harder, and hear her speak firmly:

“fuck, i’m going to cum. keep being good and let me breed you.”

my eyes would’ve rolled back into my head in pleasure if i could still understand her, but by the time i would have felt her hot seed fill my hole, i was already completely asleep.

she always gets what she wants. i tried to fight and lost. she won yet again. but let’s be honest, i didn’t put up much of a fight.