#he’s never been one to seek paleness

[ophernelia]

I love my renders I do BUT blender be whitewashing the fuck outta my characters. It irks me so bad. It’s too bright. 😭 They only look the way they’re supposed to in CAS. Literally every time I see Imogen I get confused why she’s still so light? She is meant to be a more warm mid-range brown. Even Will, Savannah, AJ, Indiyah, Grey, and Leslie are all supposed to be darker than they are. Like a deep rich brown. Their’s isn’t too bad in the episodes but in blender???? Different story. I usually darken the episodes in post and try to edit their skin in renders but it still annoys me. Just know everybody you see is meant to be at least a shade or more darker. Minus Eloise, Kellen, and Arenthal. Idk I probably need to work on lighting scenes better but I hate it.

[joeloverture]

hook 'em horny | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist : coach!joel masterlist pairing: college football coach!joel miller x reader summary: [no outbreak] seeking petty revenge on your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you somewhere you shouldn't be — and then it lands you over the knee of his coach. warnings: (18+ mdni, don't make me say it again.) cheating done by a referenced oc, briefest mention of drugs, porn barely garnished with plot, age gap (22/52), smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, potentially dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, daddy kink, sir kink, 'punishment' spanking, degradation, praise, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, joel spits on her ass but otherwise no butt stuff, mild choking, body writing, so many pet names of so many varieties, aftercare, surprisingly fluffy [no use of y/n] word count: 6.4k a/n: this is a crazy idea to have considering joel can hardly handle ellie. i don't think he'd be able to handle ~118 college-aged boys. however, the idea of football coach! joel is hot to me (i mean, seriously, look at those sluts on the sidelines) so i made it happen. on a serious note, i am so sorry to the unnamed university this is based on. i toured you. i'm legacy. but... joel miller. let's make it clear this is for entertainment purposes only. this is a fictional work about fictional people that does not reflect the school itself, which is a fine institution whose head coaches historically do not fuck students in the locker rooms. shoutout to my dad who, unknowing what this information would be used for, explained to me how he snuck into this stadium 3x. don't do that, either.

You can’t even remember the last time you made a good decision.

Your track record definitely isn’t the cleanest: you chose to go to school in Texas, and then chose to stay there for four years. Choosing to go to that frat party in late junior year wasn’t your brightest moment, either, evidenced by the resulting hangover from hell and, predictably, frat flu. All things considered, those choices pale in comparison to hooking up with their all-star quarterback, Lucas Scott.

Dirty-blonde, blue-eyed, muscled Lucas Scott. He’s the sort of guy who looks like an eight when you’re looking at him after a few shots of tequila and a four when you’re sober. The sort of guy who, after over a year of dating, makes you split the bill halfway after ordering the more expensive entree. Crowned as the most efficient, precise, and instinctive quarterback the Longhorns have ever had. Apparently that instinct hadn’t been enough to drive him away from dipping his wick in every sorority girl’s candle wax. 

No matter how much post-orgasm Lucas panted into his ear that he loved you, you weren’t stupid enough to trick yourself into believing it. Staying with him was the easier choice, not yet wanting to reduce yourself to locker room talk. Walking in on him sloppily fucking some redhead nursing major was the breaking point. When it became less about you and more about your dignity.

So, yeah, you’ve never been one for making good decisions, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.

You thought breaking into the stadium would be some sort of monumental task. Trespassing here was normally reserved for campus rooftops and after-hours exploration, but once you’d gotten this batshit crazy idea in your head, you knew it wasn’t going to shake until you at least proved it couldn’t be done.

The open garage at the back of the building doesn’t help to deter you. It’s like there’s a welcome-mat outside saying, ‘Come on in and get what you deserve!’.

Who would you be to decline such a sincere invitation?

The garage is empty apart from some cushy golf carts, and the steel door behind them couldn’t be more tempting. If it’s locked, you tell yourself, you’ll go back to the dorm and forget about your incident of near-trespassing. 

You take small steps to the door, testing the handle. It springs right open, and all thoughts of leaving dissipate from your mind.

Who leaves the garage open and forgets to lock the door? Probably people with just as little between their ears (and legs) as Lucas. You scoff in half-disbelief, half-luck as you close the door behind you.

The energy feels stagnant this late at night, no announcer on the loudspeaker or swarms of burnt orange hats and T-shirts standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Industrial lights flicker above, their hums loud enough to make you wonder if you have tinnitus. Concrete lines the hallways, interrupted by a few silver-painted pipes arranged in a labyrinth up against the walls. A few security cameras are pointed at you. Before going any further, you pause to raise the hood of your Longhorns sweatshirt.

Even if you should be, you aren’t in much of a rush; you amble about, really taking in the sterile ambiance of the empty stadium. You turn a few corners, going in what feels like the right direction. You figure you’re getting closer when you spot what looks like it could be a security tower. Crouching behind a trash can, you wait it out, trying to peer through the untinted windows to figure out if there’s anyone in there at all. When you’ve determined it’s unmanned and let out a shallow exhale, you go back up to full posture and keep wandering around unsupervised.

You know you’re in the right place when you find your toes hovering over a red line painted on the oil-stained concrete: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. 

Bingo.

Crossing that line without really thinking about it, you stick to your (so far) tried and true method of going wherever feels the most promising until you’re standing in front of the two black doors you were looking for. The door’s handle is an obnoxiously large longhorn, and you quite literally have to hook ‘em to get inside.

You’re starting to understand where the rest of the university’s funding is going when you walk into the locker room. After dating Lucas for a year, you know the football team is full of itself, but the Longhorniness of it all is��� excessive. There’s the silhouette of the logo glowing on the goddamn ceiling, and if the jerseys the players are wearing on their digital nameplates isn’t enough of an indicator of who they play for, every backlit locker has a drawer with, you guessed it: a longhorn painted at the center. A brown vinyl couch wraps around the front of the room in direct view of a powered down videoboard that you can only assume replays highlight reels.

You roll your eyes. Again, your track record with decision-making isn’t the best, because you chose a school who puts every penny towards sweaty frat boys with brain damage from the amount of concussions they get.

And then you see it: a sign tacked onto the middle aisle of lockers that reads CORE VALUES. From top to bottom, HONESTY, TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT, NO DRUGS, NO STEALING, and NO WEAPONS. You have to physically clamp your jaw shut to restrict your laughter at the second one.

It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. Lucas Scott, #10.

His sweat-stained jersey hangs limply from the rack, and you eagerly tear it off, tossing it down onto the floor. Eager like a child ready to color outside the lines of a coloring book, you kneel down in front of it, pulling out the one thing you had prepared for tonight. A bold black Sharpie.

You pop the cap with your teeth, spitting it out somewhere on the floor as you start scribbling. Disguising your handwriting isn’t intentional, but you’re writing so carelessly and on such a foreign material that it comes naturally. Your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you work. In a year and a half, you’d never felt such satisfaction about — and certainly not from  — Lucas.

TWO PUMP CHUMP along the side. FIVE INCHES FULL MAST on the other. CHEATER at the bottom. WHORE across the front.

A throat clears behind you. You drop the Sharpie, a blot of ink forming on the mesh. You startle backwards, scooting until your back hits that stupid longhorn drawer. You’re expecting a janitor, maybe a security guard if you’re extra unlucky. 

That isn’t the worst of your options, apparently, because when you look up, it’s at Joel fucking Miller, head coach of the longhorn’s football team.

Your lower lip starts trembling, and that moment is when you decide maybe you need to start making good decisions. You’ve heard enough about Joel from Lucas to know he’s a total hardass. He could drag you by the ear to the dean and have you kicked out at the tail end of your second to last semester in this hellhole.

He glares down at you with his head cocked, hazel eyes far darker than they ever seem on TV. His scruff stipples his hardened jawline, lips thinned out like the worry lines pressed onto his forehead. If you were interested in digging yourself any deeper, you might stall to think about how good he looks: the faint trail of chest hair vanishing down into the neckline of his longhorns polo shirt, his fitted khakis, broad leather belt slung around his waist, and the slight bulge of tummy above it. You swallow hard and kick yourself for it.

“What exactly,” Coach Miller drawls, voice syrupy and sticky. “do ya think you’re doin’?”

Your mouth moves, but no words come out. He doesn’t seem very amused, his muscled arms crossing over his wide torso.

Joel shakes his head. “Ain’t a good look for you, hun, scrawlin’ that chicken scratch all over my QB’s jersey. Could get a real ugly charge for that.”

Heart crashing into your ribcage, you bite down on your lip. “I can pay the damages,” you blurt out.

He sizes you up all over again, eyes dragging up and down your body. They linger on your chest for a few extra seconds that you’re convinced that you just made up. “Can you, sugar? ‘Cause to me, looks like you’re the type to be chasin’ tips at whatever joint hires you.”

You don’t have the bandwidth to be as offended as you should be, especially because he’s right. You settle for glowering at him instead. A huff of laughter pinches out of him. “You give everyone you vandalize that blue look? Or is that lil’ number jus’ because you found out Lucas really ain’t that loyal?” With ease, Joel bulldozes over whatever thinning resolve you have remaining. 

“What’s that sign over there say? ‘Treat women with respect’?” You say. Joel’s backlit like all of those over budgeted lockers behind him. You squint your eyes. “You know that’s fucking bullshit. So what if I give him a taste of his own medicine when he’s been a minute man for every girl with a pulse on this campus?” You cap your Sharpie and clip it back onto your collar and get to your feet. So much for good decisions. “Fuck right off with that.”

“Hey, hey. Down, hun.” Joel holds his hands out to you, and you notice just how heavily you’ve been breathing, just how close you are to him. “Never said you were wrong. Kid’s a fuck up in all sorts ‘a ways. But I don’t like how you’re mouthin’ off at me, Miss Priss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in dire need of a spankin’ to set you right.”

Your breath cuts short and your cunt bottoms out without your permission. You don’t need a mirror to know your eyes just went glassy, your lips parted as your mouth goes desert dry. As discreetly as you can manage, you squeeze your thighs together.

Joel doesn’t miss it. You can tell from the moment his brows raise and his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth picking up a smidge. “Oh, yeah? That do somethin’ for ya, hun? Nasty little girl.” There’s a dangerous, uneven grit to his voice that has arousal burning like a candle in your stomach, the wax of your arousal syrupy against your thighs already. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Fuck.

“No,” you breathe out stubbornly, but you’ve already given yourself away, even to yourself. The insides of your thighs are molten, twitching with every throb of your clit between your legs. That flush of warmth from your pelvis is spreading, overheating.

Joel tuts. “You really think that? You can whine all you want ‘bout wantin’ respect, but at the end ‘a the day, you just wanna be treated like some whore, huh?” And, yeah, he has you figured out, has you in the palm of his hand. Even though you have no idea what someone like him could do to someone like you, you want him to do it. You want to find out. “I’ll tell ya what, sugar, you walk outta here right now and nobody but me’s gonna know you came pitchin’ a hissy fit in my locker room.”

You frown at that, a small arc of your pouty lips that has Joel’s eyes gleaming.

“Or,” he says. “You can pull those wet fuckin’ panties down – don’t gimme that look, I know they are – and I can give ya a real lesson in respect.” He shrugs, hands going to his waist as he looks you up and down.

He knows he has you the same way you know, but you aren’t just going to give in that easily. You flare your nose and counter, “If there’s nothing keeping me here other than a firm hand, why should I stay?”

He’s looking at you like he wants to take you apart. His fingers jump against his hips for the opportunity to break you down. 

“Sweetness,” Joel shakes his head as if it’s obvious. “if you let me, I could make you feel good. I’m guessin’ you got some vibrator sittin’ in the back of your desk drawer to use when your roommate’s out ‘n about, but you don’t wanna use that tonight, do ya? You want the real thing, hun, and I’d give it to ya real nice once I teach ya to behave.”

There it is again: Coach Joel Miller has you all figured out. Every syllable he says is doomed to send another shiver up your spine, and damn it, fuck playing coy.

You’re too busy tearing off your hoodie to think about how unsexily dressed you are, but the rushed nature of your actions punches a chuckle out of Joel. “Eager thing.” You’re halfway through kicking your shoes and leggings off when he saunters over to the couch, plopping down on the edge and patting his broad, khaki-covered thigh. Your mouth waters when you look back and see just how much the fabric strains against his leg. “Whenever you’re ready, hun.”

You waddle over to him, stripped down to the basics of your sports bra and everyday panties. It’s the furthest thing from erotic, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t. It’s primal and ravenous, enough to have you forgetting all about how you’d even gotten there in the first place. He licks his lips as he trails his eyes all over you, darkening a couple of shades when he looks at your cleavage. “Lucas is a fuckin’ idiot, baby.”

“Knew that already,” you mumble.

He pats his thigh again, bounces his leg. “C’mon, over my knee like the good girl I know you can be. Hurry up and I’ll only give ya five.”

You shuffle forward, relishing in the rubbing of your thighs that comes from it. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch at the perfect angle for you to rest your head on the arm. It doesn’t take any more convincing for you to put yourself over his lap, not that he needed to do much in the first place. You feel so much smaller than him. Your ass is up for him to do whatever he’d like to; it’s a tantalizing feeling you hadn’t gotten out of any intimacy – if you could call it that — with Lucas.

“Mmmmmm,” Joel groans as he runs a hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit through the soaked gusset of your panties. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, or the pitiful shout that jumps off your lips when he pins you down by the small of your back, robbing you of any friction. Between one arousal-riddled breath and the next, Joel tugs your panties off and flings them to the side. You know how it feels, tacky and cold on your core and thighs, so you can only imagine how it must look. Joel gives you a pretty good idea when he reveres, “Goddamn, pretty cunt is throbbin’ for it.”

He pulls apart your folds and you think you hear him lick his lips above you before he lets them go. The schlick noise your dripping pussy makes is nothing less than pornographic. Joel gropes you carefully, kneads the skin of your ass like you have all the time in the world. Under his ministrations, it’s easy to melt into the couch, forgetting why you’re there in the first place until his palm cracks down on your ass cheek.

The stinging impact has a slurred hnnnngh leaving your lips, and a fresh gush of wetness between your legs to accompany it. You keep your head tucked into the sanctuary of your folded arms, eyes squeezed shut so tight you swear you’re seeing stars. Joel’s quick to rub the spanked patch of skin, his palm soothing his ache. “That’s one, baby.” You nod into your arms. “Think you can take four more?” Another nod.

“I need to hear ya, hun. C’mon, head up f’me.” He taps the side of your cheek, and you prop your cheek up on your forearm. “Think you can take four more?” he repeats.

Your voice hitches, courtesy of the beating that echoes in your chest and between your legs. “Y-yes…” 

When the second hit lands, you don’t expect it. You flinch away from his hand when it comes down with a clap that leaves you squirming in his lap. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you whine out, back arching. Although a punishment, that spank has the same effect as the last: a live wire of arousal strung from your spine to your cunt.

“Takin’ it well,” he praises, squeezing your ass cheeks together. “Sure didn’t expect anyone to come crawlin’ in when I left that garage open, ‘specially not some slut like you with an ass that needs a spankin’ six ways to Sunday.” Just as quick as he can build you up, he can take you down a notch, but you can’t mind when it has you moaning all the same. “Oh, she likes that,” Joel clicks.

He rubs your ass again, and you’re bracing yourself for that next strike, pulled stiff with an arousing, anticipatory sort of fear. Only when you convince yourself it isn’t coming do you let all of that tension flood out of your body — and that’s when Joel smacks his hand across your far-too-trustworthy ass.

You cry out, pouting over your shoulder at Joel, who has a proud smirk drawn all over his face. You don’t even feel your hips rocking down, seeking whatever pleasure you can get until he reprimands, “Ruttin’ against my fuckin’ leg, now, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t like this.”

With a particularly good grind of your hips, you feel his bulge pressing into your thigh. From a mere graze alone, you can tell it’s huge. A whimper tears out of you at the same time he groans above you. “You got nothin’ to prove, ain’t gonna change the fact you’re a slut who needs to get spanked ‘n stuffed to talk ‘er into behavin’ a bit.”

“Can’t even follow your own rules,” you huff, apparently still interested in shooting yourself in the foot even when Coach Miller has you ass-up over his knee. 

“Don’t see how you care…” Joel slides a hand down between your legs. He rubs at your clit, an intense pressure that has you wanting more and less all at the same time, before dragging a thick finger across your opening. Arousal squelches between your legs and your hips jump – a dead giveaway to just how turned on you are, whether you like it or not. “when it gets you this turned on,” he finishes. Then that same finger is prodding at your mouth, glistening with your wetness. You whimper before tasting yourself, sucking obediently on his finger until he pulls away with a pop.

You sulk, “Don’t act like I can’t feel you ripping a hole in your jeans, Miller–”

The fourth spank is the hardest by far. The skin of your ass feels bitten by Joel’s ‘firm hand’. It’s the kind of hit that makes your legs kick in his lap and your fingers clutch in the couch’s arm for purchase. You wail, “Daddy!” Pain disappears from your mind when you realize what exactly you just said, quickly replaced by the churning coolant of embarrassment. If you were paying attention to anything else other than the shame suddenly inhabiting your chest, you might’ve been able to feel the twitch of his cock in his pants.

“Daddy, huh?” Joel hums, rubbing your hurt ass with one hand while the other strokes your shoulder. You bury your face back in your arms as an apology takes shape in the back of your throat. “Lucas your daddy, too?”

“No!” You squeak, adjusting in his lap. The hood of your clit catches on the rough material of Joel’s pants. Unable to stop yourself, you hump his knee again, shallow rolls of your hips. You can still feel his hardness against you. Needily, you tip your head up, panting as foggy pleasure hangs over your head. 

“Stop makin’ a mess of daddy’s dress pants, baby, unless you wanna be on your knees, lickin’ it up.” You keen, and he chuckles knowingly. “Shoulda known, little whore like you gets off on that.” 

Joel gives you a longer reprieve between the fourth and fifth spank. Instead, he strokes your ass and asks, “One more gonna be enough to set you straight, sweetheart?”

“Y..yes daddy,” you whimper. He hums in approval.

You shift back and forth, waiting for it to come — and when it does, it’s softer. It’s by no means a love pat, but it pales in comparison to his previous work. You still sniffle, squeezing your thighs together as he coos, “I know, I know. Poor baby, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Can’t be on her high horse when she’s over Daddy’s knee.” Gentle, he pats your ass and guides you on all fours at the edge of the couch. He hums in approval. “See? Not throwin’ a hissy fit anymore. She’s all nice ‘n obedient when you get ‘er to act right.”

Joel spreads your pussy with his thumbs, and you hear the vulgar noise of him collecting his saliva before you feel his spit landing on your clenching hole. You’ve never felt so empty, not when your bottom drawer vibrator is buzzing against your core, definitely not when Lucas fucks you in the same old missionary. Whimpering for him, you arch your back to try to rub against his crotch.

“Quit your whinin’,” he snips, his thumb finding your clit in one swipe. Joel’s touch is firm, but not too firm, just enough to make your hips push down with a need only he’s ever made you feel. 

Without warning, his middle finger slides inside of you, thick and calloused and so, so right. “Fuckin’... tight.” Another slides in as he starts scissoring you open, apparently satisfied enough when he crooks his fingers deep in your cunt. Instantly, he catches that spongy spot that you can never reach on your own. You nearly crumple with the sensation, limbs going weak and buckling. “That the spot?” he asks, but he already knows.

“Mhm,” you moan, chin instinctively tucking against your chest as if you can get away from the pleasure he’s giving you, as if you’d ever want to.

Then — he stops.

His fingers sit heavy inside of you, so close to where you need them to go. “What the fuck, Joel?” 

"Baby, s’that how you get what you want?” He rubs your thigh with his free hand and gives it a quick swat. “Help daddy out, tight girl. I'm not just gonna let you get away with bein’ a spoiled brat. Work yourself on my fingers."

You’re putty in the palm of his hand – malleable, docile for him to treat or mistreat you however gets him hard. You whine, punching your hips back nonetheless. Grinding down, down, down, your cunt unresisting when he gives you another finger. It’s crude, the way you moan for him.

Even though he’s hardly doing anything, just the hand you’re getting yourself off on, that all-consuming strain in your body only gets stronger. “Daddy – close, please…”

 “Attagirl, atta-fuckin’-girl, give it to me.” He rewards you with a press of his fingers against that golden spot inside of you. Your orgasm splinters through you, an ecstasy-charged mist fanning over your body. Your release runs down Joel’s hand and your thighs with every clench of your cunt, like you’ve been skinned and set ablaze by your own desire. You fall forward on the couch, no longer able to hold yourself up, arms a tangled mess as you gasp into the cushion. “You come so pretty, baby. Messy pussy, too. Soaked me up to my goddamn elbow.”

You’re still reeling from the best orgasm you’ve had in months, maybe ever, when you hear obscene slurping noises from behind you. You cast a look at him, your arousal returning with a vigor at the sight of Joel sucking his fingers clean. He groans at the taste, and you swear you see his cock jump in his khakis. Stomach warped with desire, you’re about to plummet off of the very dangerous edge of doing just about anything for him right now.

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you plead, and in any other position, with any other person, it might be mortifying, something worth clutching your pearls over. But this is Coach Joel Miller, the last person you ever expected to be fucking, giving you the best fuck you never expected.

“There’s those manners,” Joel praises, leaning over you to press a brief kiss to your shoulder blade. You can smell your release on his lips, a sweet smell that’s so distinctly you. He eases off of you, presumably to take off his pants. There’s the shuffling of fabric, and when he returns to your side, you’re disappointed to find he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt.

You pout at him again, still desperate to get your way. Eye-level with his bulge, you’re salivating over it. You had made a mess of his dress pants, a wet spot formed just above his knee, taunting you. You lick your lips. 

“Think it’s only fair,” he says, looming over you. He’s holding the Sharpie you’d brought along with you. Your brows furrow as you look up at him through your lashes. “If I give ya the same treatment you gave his jersey.” His gaze is cocky as he pops the cap with his thumb, giving the marker a twirl.

Oh.

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. Nothing about this should turn you on as much as it does, yet here you are, in a puddle of your own sweat and cum, itching for the next thing he gives you. And if it’s marking up your body before he fucks your brains out, so be it.

He nudges his head, gesturing for you to get down on your stomach. You lift your knees up and flatten yourself out on the cushions. The vinyl sticks and pulls from your skin as you get where he wants you. A soft, surprised noise leaves you when he straddles your thighs, his clothed cock nudging at your seam.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, because it’s the only phrase you can think of that even holds a candle to what all of this has become. 

A laugh fans out from under his breath as he starts at your freshly spanked, raw ass. The Sharpie is cold and foreign, tugging at your skin as he inks you up. “Gotta make sure you match before I dick you down, don’t I? What is it you wrote on his jersey? ‘Whore’? Between the two ‘a ya, I woulda put my money on you for that one.”

If that wasn’t enough indication, you figure out what he’s doing by the time he gets to the right cheek, what feels like an ‘R’ taking shape across your ass. He finishes the ‘E’ and sets down the Sharpie for a moment, his meaty palms spreading your ass. It still thrums with the afterglow of his spanking. You don’t think you can throb any more than you already are, but then he spits on you for the second time that night, this time landing it on your puckered asshole. A gasp flutters from your lips as you grind down into the couch, his spit dripping down your folds.

“See? Real whorish, fuckin’ my couch.” He taps your ass for good measure. “Asshole makes a perfect fuckin’ ‘O’, baby. Looks a whole lot better than that chicken scratch shit you put on his jersey.” You think maybe, just maybe, he’ll dismount you and pull his cock out, but instead he keeps writing, scribbling on your back and upper thighs. Every pull of your skin under the bleeding ink has you aching for him.

When he’s content with his work, he lifts off of you, hands fumbling to undo his belt. It snaps apart, dangling open around his waist as his hands open up his khakis. “You let Lucas fuck that sweet lil’ cunt raw?” he asks.

“No, I don’t,” you admit, unable to tear your eyes away from his cock as he pulls it out, and fuck you. Your eyes don’t even feel big enough to take all of him in, and you have no idea how you’re going to fit him between your legs. You almost go cross-eyed at the sight of it, his head leaking precum.

“Thought so. You gonna let me fuck it raw?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of having him inside of you, having him inside of you bare. Yet another thing you never gave to Lucas in a year of disappointing sex, but are eagerly giving up to Joel. 

“Gotta be a real nasty slut,” Joel says, returning to his place atop your thighs, his thick ones framing yours. Your breath hitches when you feel the weight of his cock gliding through your ass cheeks and down to your cunt. “to let your ex-boyfriend’s coach bareback ya in the locker room.” A heady gasp tears from you when the head of his cock bumps your clit. He teases you — his cock, slippery with a combination of your arousal, skating from your clit to your spasming opening, not quite nudging in.

“Daddy, please – I need it… need you to fuck me, fuck me–”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

When he pushes in, it knocks the air out of your lungs. The only proof that you’re still breathing is when you let out a pitchy, desperate moan. Joel grunts, teeth gritted as he flattens himself down against your spine so he can roll his hips into yours. The pain of his size becomes an afterthought just as quickly as the pain of your spanking, dwarfed by the pleasure he gives you just as easily. 

“Fuuuuck,” Joel groans, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Inch at a time, he works you open, grinding his hips into your opening. “Could you be any goddamn tighter?” He bites at your neck from behind with every rock of his hips into yours until he bottoms out.

“Big,” is all you manage to squeak out as he hauls you back on his cock, already prodding your g-spot with his head. Your eyes roll back as you clench around him. 

His fingers go up to run circles around your shoulder, soothing you, grounding you when his cock has you anything but. “Mmm, I know, I know. You can take it. All whores can.” With that, Joel starts fucking you, really fucking you, a punishing, relentless pace where he pulls out entirely before filling you to the brim. Each snap of his hips into yours fills the locker room with shameless sounds, the mere background to your depraved moans.

“Never had your pussy stretched by a man double your age before, huh?”

“N–no! Never… never had my pussy stretched mu…much at all–”

Joel slams into you, laughs at the strained noise that you make. “Yeah? Those dumbfucks on my team not doin’ it for ya, baby?” You don’t answer, don’t think he’s expecting one until his hand wraps around your front, forearm pressed firm against your tits. His thick hand wraps lightly around your neck, jostling you. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he has over you. The power you allow him to have. It’s invigorating. Everything about him is. 

Moans spurt out of you as you fumble to answer, “No da– daddy! You — ah! — do it for m–me!” 

“And what do you say for that? For goin’ outta my way to show you what a real fuck is?”

“Thank you, Daddy!” you cry out. You’re spilling down his thighs, the wet suction of your pussy around his cock making noises more vulgar than you’ve ever heard in porn.

His hand squeezes again at your neck, and you feel floaty, a bubble just waiting to pop. Pleasure dances in every one of your veins, every nerve ending burning like a match that he keeps striking ablaze.

“There you go, desperate slut just needs a freshly spanked ass, a good dickin’ down, and a hand ‘round her throat to behave.” Joel’s pace stays just as harsh, crushing your g-spot with his cock. “Should keep you back here for when we lose, tie you to the goddamn desk. Let my staff take turns with you, see how much crybaby you have left in ya when a dozen men’s loads are drippin’ outta your reamed fuckin’ cunt. Bet you like it when men use you.” The whine that almost gags you on its way out is enough to confirm it.

If he keeps talking to you and the wind blows the right way on your clit, you know you’ll be coming. You’re wringing out his cock with every flutter of your pulsing pussy. The beginning embers of your orgasm turn into a wildfire when he wedges his free hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles into your sloppy clit. “Fuck, please, please, please,” you sob out, too riddled with pleasure to care about how pathetic you sound or look as you hump his hand while he pounds you.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.” Joel rasps, nipping at your ear. The hand around your throat falls fully to your chest, pressing you solid against him so he can fuck deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s enough to make you scream, hands clawing and scratching down his muscular grip on you. “C’mon, hun, give it to me, come on my cock, fuck.”

With another thrust, he has you pushed right down onto his fingers, rubbing and flicking you every which way. It’s all you need to come undone, your second orgasm of the night unlatching through you like something forked and angry, battering your sore limbs until there’s nothing left of it or you. You’re a mess, spit oozing down your chin as you slur “thank you daddy” like a broken record, thighs clamping around nothing.

Joel groans as you clench around his cock and continues his relentless pace, hips slapping against yours. The hand he’d been using to rub your clit migrates to your tits, grazing and then thumbing and then tugging lightly your nipples. “There it is, told ya you could be a good girl. Lettin’ your daddy use this cunt to get off, lettin’ me use you. I’m fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want me?”

And you want it even if you shouldn’t, want his cum deep inside of you, want it to leak out into your panties as you walk back to your dorm. You’re still no good at making decisions, too fucked out to tell right from left when you beg, “I–inside, fuck, come inside me, daddy, please.”

Joel practically growls at that, thrusts losing their steadiness as his hips jump and he hurtles towards his release. “Yeah, you’re a goddamn whore, beggin’ for this cum. And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, yeah… fuckin’ take it.” He slams all the way into you for the last time before shooting his cum into your cunt, swearing and moaning. Breathing like he’s run a mile, he goes slack on top of you, pets the back of your head while he comes down from the exhilaration of his high.

With a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he rises, and the fantasy is over. His cock slips from your pussy, and you feel hollow with the loss. This is where he tucks himself back into his pants, runs a hand back through his hair, tells you to never show your face in his stadium again, and shoves you out the door.

And he does: tucks his softening cock into his boxers, zips up his khakis, does his belt, tames his post-sex head of hair. You wince even if you expected it, leaning down over the edge of the couch to grab your hoodie, already moving to tug it over your head.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Joel asks, and his tone sounds much more different than the first time he’d asked you. He sounds offended. You blink confusedly, dazedly at him with your arms halfway through the armholes. “Let me clean you up, hun.” Joel side-steps the pile of your leggings and shoes, adjusting the hoodie on your arms and pulling it down your torso. “I know Lucas ain’t done you right, but you deserve to be taken care of, pretty girl.” Your heart pinches in a way that it shouldn’t, not for a hookup with your ex-boyfriend’s coach.

You shift, and he can’t help but look back between your legs where his cum escapes your hole. He manages to pry his eyes away, but not without licking his lips first. “I’ll be right back, baby. Promise.”

When he’s back, it’s with a damp rag. He crouches down in front of you, taking it to the apex of your thighs and wiping away the combination of your releases, careful not to nudge your sensitive clit. He kisses your thigh gently before pulling back, folding the towel on the arm of the couch you’d been crying into just a few minutes ago.

Joel shimmies your ruined panties up your thighs, followed by your leggings. You let him, breath cut like a snipped wire from the sheer intimacy of it all, intimacy you’d lacked with Lucas even after a year of trying. You’d stayed with him for comfortability at your own expense. How stupid could you have been?

Joel pats your knee, eyes soft and weirdly sincere as he looks at you. “I’m sorry about Lucas, honey, but I meant it when I said you deserve to be taken care of.” He rubs the back of his neck before holding something out to you. A business card, his work number plastered in bold sans-serif font across the bottom. “I know this is in reverse ‘n all, but I’d really like to take you out and treat you right, if you’ll let me.”

Saying yes is your first good decision in a while.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Aemond x brothel reader 👀

So what if instead of Aemond visiting the older woman in yesterday’s episode - he goes to the brothel and immediately regrets it and is about to leave until he sees reader and is mesmerized by her beauty. They have their little moment and she gives him comfort. Definitely feel free to add more or change anything! This is just a thought that I’d like to see created. Thank you!

Request: Aemond and a brothel girl (maybe a dancer idk) like the scene in the episode. Except they are more intimate and not weird age gap like the madam. It gave me the ick… He truly feels for her.

Warnings: mention of (past) character death, mommy issues,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The mysterious customer under a cloak all piqued your curiosity. You never had the chance of properly seeing him, always immediately escorted to a private bed. Some girls said he was disfigured, and that it was the reason he covered himself with a cloak. Some said it was Aegon Targaryen, but you knew the newly crowned King favored Flea Bottom’s whores. 

As you danced, your eyes would try to see through the veils he hid behind. To get a glimpse of him. But you never saw anything other than his bare feet. All you knew was that he was with Madam Sylvi and that he requested hot milk.

One late evening, you saw him leaving the veils. His cloak was on, but he saw you. He saw you dancing and moving your naked body to the rhythm of the music, entertaining the customers. 

The next time he came by, he asked for you. 

Madam Sylvi was not pleased, but he was the paying customer. 

You reminded him of his mother — physically —, but more caring and nurturing. He found your voice soothing and loved to rub himself against the fullness of your breasts, making your nipples harden to the stimulation, until he came to rest his cheek on top of it, humming in satisfaction. His mother let him do this as a child, when she was still comforting him, and he missed it. 

Every night, he would curl against you, or in your lap, and stay here for hours as you gently caressed his pale skin. Unlike the other customers, Aemond was not there for sexual satisfaction. He just wanted comfort.

‘’Daemon sent them to kill me,’’ he said, his naked body shielded by the veils circling the large bed. ‘’It was my head they wanted, not my innocent little nephew’s.’’

Your heart was heavy as the prince mentioned the murder of Jaehaerys — a child. The barbarous act had everyone in tears. 

You rubbed his arm gently, the aroma of calming lavender wrapping around you. ‘’But you were with me.’’

‘’I feel sorry for my brother and sweet sister. She is traumatized.’’ Guilt filled his stomach as he remembered the suffering and painful grief in Helaena’s eyes. ‘’I should be grateful they did not find me, but a part of me wishes they had. Unlike my little nephew, I would have been able to defend myself.’’

‘’We cannot change the past, my prince.’’ 

‘’I know,’’ Aemond whispered, his cold, princely facade completely down in your company. He sighed deeply as your gentle caresses soothed his weary soul. His body relaxed as he buried his face into your covered chest, seeking solace in your warmth and tenderness. ‘’There’s a lot I would change about the past if I could. I…I do regret that business with Luke. I lost my temper that day, and I am sorry for it.’’

You stroked his hair gently, the soft, silvery locks running through your fingers. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away as he rested against you.

Aemond's eye closed at your touch, and a small sigh escaped his lips. ‘’They used to tease me, you know? Because I was different. One time, in the dragonpit, they…they said they found me a dragon. It was a pig. And my brother was part of the prank.’’

’'That was cruel of them,'’ you said softly, leaning to kiss his temple. He leaned into your touch as you wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace. ‘’They were cruel to you, my prince. You didn't deserve their taunts and mockery.'’ 

You felt his hand reaching up and palming your breasts through your clothing. Getting the hint of what he wanted, you untied the front of your dress and freed your breasts. Immediately, Aemond’s mouth started to press kisses over them before. His hot tongue swiped over your nipple. You let him do what he desired, knowing this was his way of finding comfort. The warmth of his hand and the wetness of his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, but you focused on his needs.

As Aemond continued his sweet assault on your breasts, you noticed his cock was getting hard against his thigh, but didn’t mention it. Madam Sylvi never touched him there...or kissed him. Only you — when he asked for it. 

The music outside the curtains changed, and he shifted, letting go of your breasts to curl up with his head on your lap instead. You continued to rub his shoulder down to his back, then along his thigh and leg. 

‘’When I claimed Vhagar, I felt powerful.’’ 

His pride and confidence had swelled to an almost unmanageable extent when he returned to Driftmark. He was excited to tell Aegon, and his mother about Vhagar. But his cousins and nephews found him first. They got into a fight over the dragon…and Lucerys Velaryon took out his eyes. 

As if you read his thoughts, your finger brushed the scar going through his eyebrow. You couldn’t imagine the pain he went through. 

‘’Was it why you went after Luke that day? Because you wanted him to be afraid of you and your superior dragon?’’ 

Aemond grew still at the mention of Lucerys, the memory of that fateful day on Storm’s End, the catalyst of the brewing war, still fresh in his mind. 

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded slowly. ‘’Yes... In a way, I suppose so.’’ 

You hummed, brushing your fingertips along his cheekbone softly. 

Aemond wished he could take you to the Keep. To his chambers. It would be nice to not have to hide under a cloak at night and risk getting seen by anyone who shouldn’t. He wished you would be there, in his bed, when he would return from small council meetings, training or even just supper, to take care of him and hold him.

But that was impossible. His mother would never allow it.  

—

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[quin-ns]

Knuckle Velvet (Aegon II Targaryen x Reader)

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: Aegon is desperate for the love of the sister he truly wants, even if he has to take it

Tags: (18+), cw: non-con, cw: sibling incest, targaryen!reader, dark themes, choking, fingering, unprotected sex (obvi, it’s hotd times), hair pulling kinda, forced orgasm, aegon is lowkey pathetic but also threatening

A/N: first aegon fic. I’d been wanting to write for him but with the new season and him getting hotter (maybe he looks the same and I just got more into him idk) I had to write him

HotD masterlist + main masterlist

Aegon’s head weighed heavy on your lap, but even as your legs began to grow numb, you let him be. Your fingers lightly carded through his silver hair in the way you knew he wanted.

“I like it when you take care of me,” your brother had told you many times. It had to be the truth, given how often he’d seek you out just to curl up next to you.

Sometimes he’d sit like this, his head in your lap like some kind of dog, wanting his hair stroked and your words of assurance. He could fall asleep like this, or let tears slip down his cheeks. Other times he’d crawl on top of you and take the love he was desperate for. He could kiss away your silent tears, or muffle your cries with his lips.

Either way, he kept returning to you, begging for your attention and affection.

It might’ve been amusing, how weak he could be to you, if he wasn’t so terrifying at the same time.

Tonight, as Aegon muttered about his most recent council meeting, you thought perhaps you’d be spared his touch tonight.

“I should have been wed to you,” he muttered, voice holding onto a bitterness he had yet to let go. “I can stand your company and I already spend more time in your bed. I’ve suffered enough cruelty in my life, being allowed to marry who I please should’ve been a mercy I was granted. It makes no difference to our line.”

You had had this conversation many times to the point you were beyond tired of speaking about it. Helaena was the eldest sister, it had made sense to your mother and grandsire to pair the two together. They couldn’t have known the resentment that would build in the king.

Helaena was the correct choice for queen. You would not have the stomach for it. Helaena had already given birth to two of his children. Aegon was occasionally amused by them, but it was your sister that doted on them. She was a good mother. You didn’t think you could bring yourself to be. You were grateful to the maesters who would bring you tea and turn a blind eye to Aegon’s doings. The rumors that would circulate him would not ruin his future the way they would you. You’d yet to marry and if word got out you lacked virtue, you may never. You didn’t want Aegon to get the satisfaction.

You suspected Aegon no longer laid with his wife, and she was fortunate for that. If he loved you as much as he claimed and still had to kiss bruises in the morning, you didn’t dare to imagine what he could’ve done to her. She had given him a son and a daughter, and perhaps that was enough for him.

Aegon sat up and you flinched, even as he looked at you with tears in his eyes. You wondered if he recognized how insulting it was to hear him whine about his responsibilities, to listen to him say he loved you and list off the things he wanted to give you, only for him to not lift a finger for either. Duties went ignored. His love remained violent. You were tired. So very, very tired.

A hand found your face, fingers pressing into the skin of your cheek. Aegon’s thumb dragged down your lips, pulling the bottom one apart from the top. His gaze pierced yours as he let your lip go in favor of letting his thumb tilt up your chin when you tried to look away.

“Do you love me?” Aegon pleaded.

He stared at your mouth, waiting for you to speak. Your lips remained pressed together. Tears spilled further down his pale cheeks. Aegon’s face twisted as something other than just begging shined through his eyes.

Your lack of response rewarded you with a hand around the throat. Then again, you could’ve said exactly what he desired and received the same. He enjoyed his power over you as you’d never been one to fight back. At least this way you could remain somewhat defiant.

Aegon kissed you like he was trying to bruise your lips. His kiss was all teeth and tongue, forcefully claiming you as he left his mark. Aegon took what he wanted and cared nothing for charm or patience.

Hands fell to your shoulders, gliding over them for only a second before they pressed. Your back hit the mattress with a gasp. Aegon’s teeth found your neck as he crawled on top of you. The weight was already crushing. With each button on your gown he undid, the faster your heart raced.

“You are beautiful, sister,” he said, sounding wrecked already as he admired your naked body. You believed he meant it, but it didn’t spare you. “If only you weren’t being so stubborn with your words.”

Aegon’s hand on your neck was no more welcome than the first time he’d gripped it, but at least you’d grown better at controlling your breathing.

He made himself comfortable between your legs. The hand on your neck remained firm, while the other disappeared inside you.

You hated how he knew to do this. To prepare you for him. Something you were certain he’d learned at a pleasure house. That was the last thing you wanted to feel. At least if it hurt you could remind yourself you did not want this. You did not want Aegon to touch you or kiss you or fuck you. But when a warmth began to form inside you and slick coated his skilled fingers, your mind would always begin to blur and doubt crept in, while a smirk would appear on his lips. It happened every time without fail and this was no exception.

“You’ll have to speak to me sometime,” Aegon goaded, fingers stroking your walls. He leaned down over you, his lips pressing to your ear as he whispered, “Perhaps it’ll be when you scream my name.”

When, not if. Arrogance was a most undesirable feature of your eldest brother.

You tried to shut your thighs when Aegon withdrew his hand, but a harsh slap to your skin reminded you of your place. You grit your teeth and close your eyes as the head of his cock pressed into you. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done this, but it took your breath every time when he slammed into the hilt.

“Look at me,” he grunted. You could feel air hit your face, knowing his face was above you.

You cracked your eyes open when he squeezed your neck. His eyes would’ve been beautiful if they didn’t have such a lifeless quality to them.

Your throat bobbed against his hand as you swallowed, but no words left you. The sole purpose was to frustrate him. Tomorrow you’d speak to him as usual, but tonight, like you did some nights, you wanted to make your resistance known, even if his cock was buried in you.

He kissed you when he began to move. The hand on your throat remained as his lips attached to yours. His other hand groped at you, running over your hips, your waist, your breasts—anything he could touch. He thrust into you with power, forcing your legs apart. All you could do was lie there and take it.

Aegon breathed heavily against your mouth as your body welcomed him. Your mind had no say in the matter. Your warm, wet walls clung to his cock as he fucked you hard. Your legs wrapped around him without your say and that really drove him mad with lust.

His hand finally left your neck as both rose to run through your hair. Aegon’s hands were rough as he held your face in place by your scalp. Your winces of pain went ignored as usual. The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room and your face grew even more heated at the sound of your own slickness that joined. He parted from your lips to watch your face.

“I can see your pleasure, sister. Your body does not lie. Your face does not lie.”

You wanted to turn your head but you could not. You gripped the sheets as he pressed into you harder with each motion, letting you feel the thick length of him inside you even longer. Your legs began to shake as heat throbbed in your belly.

“Ae—” you cut yourself off, but it was too late.

You’d begun to give him the satisfaction of winning but had snatched it away. Aegon wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t.

His eyes looked wild as Aegon fisted your hair. “Say it,” he hissed. “Say anything.”

One would have mistaken his tone for anger, or something else, but you knew what it truly was. The desperation in his voice might’ve conjured pity if he wasn’t busy splitting you open on his cock. His thrusts picked up again and you felt your body beginning to tighten around him.

Your back arched off the bed as his harsh movements forced your legs further apart to make room for him. Aegon was growing frantic, chasing his desires with fervor.

One hand stayed in your hair while the other snaked between your bodies. A moan tore through you when the palm of his hand pressed to the top of your cunt. Another trick you were certain had been taught to him to find the most pleasure. Your hips bucked down against him, the need from your body for the pressure causing it to act on its own.

It was all so overwhelming, the word slipped from your lips before you could think to stop.

“Aegon!” you cried out. You didn’t even know what for. Surely for him to stop, but a blinding pleasure began to rattle you. Your legs locked around him, holding him deep inside you as your body quivered and clenched around him. You could barely breathe as the feeling of release wracked your entire being in a sudden instant.

Aegon cursed above you, his breaths coming out harsh. He gave quick, sharp thrusts, barely able to move with the grip of your legs. You felt his cock throb of you before he spilled inside of you with a deep moan. He shoved his hips forward, encasing himself in your body as he forced you to ride out your pleasure alongside him.

Finally, when your vision began to clear, you forced your legs to drop. You laid limp beneath him as Aegon collapsed on top of you. You shivered as his face pressed to your neck. You clenched your teeth as he nipped at your bruised neck. You even felt a tear stream down your cheek.

“You love me,” Aegon stated. It was not a question this time. He lifted his head, silver hair sticking to his forehead as his eyes searched yours. “You can deny it, or refuse to speak it, but you do.”

Whether he believed that or not, you couldn’t be certain. He spoke with conviction, but as you left him without a response, you noticed the familiar glint of sadness in his eyes as he fought back tears of his own.

With a quiver to his voice he added, “And I love you.”

As much as your body ached and your neck throbbed, deep down, you knew with certainty that he believed he did.

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Epilogue

doll!sunghoon x doll!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), threesome, unprotected sex, cream pie, eiffel tower, oral (m&f.rec), deep throating, doggy, soft dom!hoon/sub!jake, hoon&jae don't get it on but there is one kiss, cum plugging, nipple play, angst, mentions of heaven/hell, not a lot of jongseong (sorry jay lovers!) wc: 22k synopsis: you and jaeyun return to the house that started it all, however you didn't realise the impact that leaving would have on the demon you left behind, leaving you with a choice to make, and both involve visiting heeseung's room just one more time. heeseung | masterlist | a/n: hi! so if you haven't been keeping up with me or my blog then this epilogue will surprise you but with everyone wishing for just one more chapter i thought why not do an epilogue? i tried to give everyone an ending they deserved so i hope you all like it! likes, reblogs, feeback, comments are all appreciated as always! thank you so much for the love on tdh

“Y/N, can you please tell Jaeyun that this is a communal space,” Mia exasperates, pointing over to the doll and the current tornado of clothes lying over the living room floor. 

There are clothes everywhere; tops on the sofa, trousers on the carpet, and his underwear messily splayed over the small dining table situated in the corner of the room, the very location Mia happens to be as she tries to eat her lunch.

Mia and Jaeyun have developed a love-hate relationship over the past three months. To be honest, this wasn’t the problem you thought you would have when you told Mia that you are soulfully attached to a doll that is possessed by your should-have-been guardian angel. That was already a massive hurdle to overcome but you thought that maybe they could become friends once they get to know one another properly.

Unfortunately, Jaeyun holds a grudge, her words from her last visit to the mansion still stinging his heart, and Mia has never been a fan of dolls or supernatural entities living amongst the living. 

“He is WHAT?” Mia exclaims with her jaw slack enough to catch flies.

You look at Jaeyun who is standing one foot behind you, still wary of telling her, “He’s alive. Surprise!” you smile awkwardly, jazz-handing your way out of explaining any further about the situation you have found yourself in.

Mia turns pale, stumbling backwards and collapsing onto the table behind you, her body desperately seeking support. You understand it's overwhelming; after all, you weren’t prepared to handle such news back then either. Granted, a mere 20 minutes later your mouth was being stuffed with his doll cock so there wasn’t that much time to process.

“Y/N, you need to get that freak of nature back to his creepy dollhouse,” she quivers, pointing accusingly at Jaeyun.

“It’s not a dollhouse, it’s a house that dolls live in,” Jaeyun clarifies, rolling his glass eyes in annoyance.

And from there, it has been bicker after bicker between them.

You haven't told Jaeyun about his true background and who he was meant to be, knowing the others withheld this information for a good reason. Staying with him has revealed his true personality to you - a fragile soul not yet ready to face the harsh realities of his tragic death and his actual purpose in life. It might be selfish to keep this from him, but he's happy as he is. Why shatter that peace?

Besides, you would hate for him to see his brothers differently. The love he has for them is so pure that you can't bear to ruin it.

"This is actually mine and Y/N's place. You're just crashing here because your boyfriend dumped you and kicked you out," he retorts, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"It'll be your place once you start paying rent. Ever thought of mannequin work? You'd love it - they stick a metal pole right up your a-"

"Enough, you two," you interject firmly, quelling the rising tension. Memories of the last altercation flood your mind—it was not a pretty sight when Mia attempted to break his arm and toss it out the window. "Baby doll, can you hurry up and pack? We promised Soonyeol we'd be there by 2pm at the latest," you say softly, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

Nodding, Jaeyun bounds over the clothes, finally picking what he wants to wear. The way he was packing, you would think that you were staying at the mansion for a week, not just an overnight trip.

You had planned this trip for Jaeyun because it was so evident how much he was missing them all. He was on the phone to them every night, particularly Sunghoon, and once he hung up the phone he would look dejected and eagerly anticipate the next time it was appropriate to phone. One time, he was on the phone so long that you went to bed when it started and woke up just as it ended.

Of course, it's natural for him to miss them; it's all he's ever known in this existence. Part of you feels a twinge of guilt for taking him away from his home, but you also recognise that it would have hurt you both even more if you were apart, especially considering Jongseong's previous warning about being unlinked to your guardian angel. Moreover, he wanted to come of his own accord, and you've made it abundantly clear that he's free to leave whenever he wishes.

As you watch him pack, a sense of warmth fills your heart. Despite the challenges and uncertainties, you're grateful for every moment you get to spend with him. And as you prepare for this trip, you can't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the thought of seeing him reunited with his loved ones.

You would also be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to seeing them again.

"Are you almost ready, baby doll?" you ask softly, unable to hide the loving smile tugging at your lips.

He scrambles to fit in some final pieces, doing a quick verbal checkover before clicking his fingers in realization. "Two minutes! I forgot my sunscreen," he says before darting up the hall to rummage through the bathroom cabinet.

"You're made of plastic!" Mia yells at him, clearly flabbergasted, then turns to you. "Is he serious?"

"Be kind, you know how he is. Plus, he's made from thermoplastic elastomer, not plastic. You know this," you reply with a gentle chuckle, understanding Jaeyun's quirks all too well.

Ever since you brought him home, Jaeyun has been determined to be as human as possible, eagerly picking up traits and characteristics to blend in seamlessly. You often find him engrossed in binge-watching sitcoms and movies, the TV becoming his best friend as he tries to grasp human behaviour. After all, the only human he had ever come into contact with before you was Soonyeol, and everything he learned about cities and people was through her and some old books.

Exploring outside with you has been an adventure, though he requires glasses and a bit of contour to give his complexion a more lifelike appearance. So far, your cautious outings to the shops or bustling hubs of people have kept you inconspicuous.

You made it clear to Jaeyun that the last thing you wanted was for him to feel trapped in your flat, understanding the toll it took on your mental health all those months ago. Thus, you both make a concerted effort to integrate him into society, ensuring he experiences the world beyond the confines of your home. 

Once he comes back and packs his unnecessary sunscreen and an extra-extra pair of socks, he is ready to go, the excitement on his face evident as you both say goodbye to Mia and head back to the house that started it all.

_____

The crackle of gravel under your tyres fills the air, and suddenly, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. Is it odd to feel nostalgic for a place you were in just three months ago? Shouldn't that sentiment be reserved for moments like childhood memories of playing in a friend's backyard at age six?

Bringing the car to a stop, you gaze ahead and notice that the moss and bushes have been trimmed, giving the exterior a more manicured appearance. The daisy bush is still intact, if not more beautiful than the last time you set eyes on it. It's a subtle change, but it speaks volumes about the passage of time since you visited the place Jaeyun called home. 

You glance at Jaeyun and find the brightest smile lighting up his face, his left leg bouncing in eager anticipation. With a gentle touch, you tuck some of his hair behind his ear, pulling him from his trance of happiness. His leg stills as your touch renders him relaxed. "You ready, baby doll?"

He nods, clasping his large hand over yours, bringing your palm to his plump lips and kissing it gently. "Are you? I think that's the big question here," he replies, sensing your apprehension about returning to the mansion. It’s the downside to having a soulmate that feels your emotions with you, you can’t ever hide when you’re upset or nervous.

It's not that you don't want to see everyone; it's the simple thought of what if Jaeyun wants to stay here again? Being in the city with you could have been a nice holiday for him, but what if he decides he wants to go back to Soonyeol as soon as he sets eyes on her?

He doesn't have friends back in the city; he only has you. Sometimes, you wonder if that's enough for him. Soulmates or not, a person cannot survive solely on the love of one other person. He needs a network, and unfortunately, that network is here in this mansion.

You assure him with a grin and a nod, feeling the warmth of his affection as he presses his knuckles to your lips once again, sealing his love for you inside of it, reassuring you even only slightly. Together, you step out of the car and walk up to the grand front doors, the nervousness in your body different from when you arrived on your first day on shift.

Reaching out, you raise your hand to knock on the door, your heart beating just a little faster with each passing moment. This visit could change everything, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead fills you with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

A minute of silence passes before the door swings open, revealing Soonyeol with her cheery grin and bright energy. She looks as beautiful as ever, her long hair and pretty sundress almost making you curse at yourself for wearing a pair of shorts and an old band t-shirt that has faded in its whiteness from frequent wear.

Jaeyun lets go of your hand and leaps forward, embracing her tightly. His excitement is palpable, and you can't help but smile at the sight of their reunion, even if a pang of insecurity tugs at your heart. You step back slightly, giving them space, watching the reunion with a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. 

There's happiness for Jaeyun, seeing him reunited with someone who clearly means so much to him. But there's also a twinge of uncertainty, a fear that perhaps this reunion will change things between you two.

You take a deep breath, pushing aside those thoughts for now. This moment isn't about you; it's about Jaeyun seeing his found family and getting the much-needed time with them. His happiness is the upmost importance.

"Soonyeol, it's been too long," Jaeyun says, his voice filled with genuine affection as he pulls back slightly from the embrace, still holding her at arm's length.

"It really has, Jaeyun. I've missed you," Soonyeol replies, her smile softening as she looks at him.

You step forward, offering a tentative smile. "Hi, Soonyeol. It's nice to see you again."

Rolling her eyes playfully, Soonyeol reaches for your arm and pulls you into a warm hug. "Come on, Y/N, we don't need to be awkward here! You're part of the family now," she says happily, her voice filled with genuine warmth as she embraces you like a lifelong friend.

There is no weight of angst towards you in her body. She is so kind and generous that you wonder how on earth she has such a hold on Heeseung, considering someone with a pure heart like her must be the easiest target of all. 

"Thank you, Soonyeol," you say softly, grateful for her kindness.

As you pull back from the hug, she waves off your appreciation and gestures towards the inside of the house. "We're all in the living room," she comments, not offering to show you the way. It's a subtle acknowledgement of your familiarity with the mansion; after all, if anyone knows this house as well as she does, it's you.

With a nod of understanding, you follow her lead and step inside, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you as you reenter the familiar surroundings of the mansion. It’s strange how easy it is to fall back into place as soon as you cross the threshold; you’re almost seconds away from grabbing the green feather duster again.

You roll your case across the mahogany floor as you walk towards the living room, marvelling at the once creepy, dark walls with a sense of fondness. You missed this place more than you will ever admit to anyone, the tranquillity of it all was missed on nights of sirens and drunken shouting just outside your flat.

Jaeyun doesn't seem to mind the hustle and bustle surrounding him. In fact, he's fascinated by it, curious as to why so many people are in such a rush to skip through life when there's so much of the world they're missing. Whether their noses are buried in their phones or they simply don't care to interact with one another, Jaeyun sees the beauty in every moment.

If there were an award for chatterboxes, Jaeyun would undoubtedly win it. From the moment you realised he could converse, you knew he had a lot to say. Every day, he fills the air with his thoughts and musings, and you couldn't love it more. You are aware that his past got swiped from his memory, but it's truly as if he's experiencing his first life.

Yet, you can't help but wish he could speak to more than just you and Mia when he's back home with you. The world is full of people he could connect with, and you want nothing more than for him to experience the joy of making new friends and sharing his boundless enthusiasm with others. A person as pure and joyful as him should be able to enrich people's lives the way he has yours.

Reaching the living room, Jaeyun takes your free hand and squeezes it, prompting you to turn to him.

"Hmm?" you ask, tilting your head as you catch his soft expression.

"I love you, you know that right? You know I'm not going anywhere if it's not with you," he says earnestly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. His serious tone leaves no room for doubt; he means every word.

Jaeyun may exude the excitement of a puppy who loves being looked after, but he's also incredibly understanding of your own needs. He knows that sometimes you need verbal reassurance, especially now that you’re diving back into the complexities of life at the mansion. While it's easy to pretend to be just another normal couple back in the city, here you're acutely aware of the history that lingers in the halls and the events that transpired.

With a soft smile, you squeeze his hand back, feeling a rush of gratitude for his unwavering love and support. "I know, Jaeyun. And I love you too. More than you'll ever know," you reply, your voice filled with affection. 

Jaeyun leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before releasing your hand. "Let's go join the others, if they’re anything like me then they’re literally dying to see you.”

Walking into the room, you notice Jongseong entering through the back garden almost simultaneously with you and Jaeyun. His presence halts you all to a stop, and a warm smile spreads across your face, reaching your ears.

"Princess," Jongseong greets you, setting down the shears in his hand before striding briskly toward you. His arms open wide as he approaches, and before you know it, he's lifting you up and spinning you around, eliciting a delighted giggle from your lips.

"Hi, Jongseong," you greet him warmly, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. There's a sense of joy and ease in his presence that never fails to lift your spirits. Throughout your time in the mansion, he was always your backbone to getting through it, living up to his guardian angel ways.

As Jongseong sets you back down, your curious gaze sweeps over his attire. "What's with the new look?" you ask quizzically, noting the departure from his usual casual clothes. He's sporting dark green overalls, stained with mud and grass, paired with a black slouch t-shirt underneath, and gardening gloves.

Jongseong spins around, giving you a full view of the outfit before bursting into laughter. Soonyeol tucks under his arm, hugging him from the side and running her hand over his broad chest.

You can’t help but wonder if Jongseong ever told her about your night on the altar, or the one in the kitchen, or the countless ones on her bed. But by the way she's acting, it seems she remains oblivious to it all. For now, you'll let her live in ignorance, choosing not to disrupt the peace.

“Jjongie suggested it,” Soonyeol explains, looking up at him with an adoring stare.

"Yeah, wouldn't want someone to prick a finger or anything on the thorns now, do we?" Jongseong's voice carries a playful tone as he makes jabs at your past experiences with the garden.

Since your departure, he's come to realise that there's so much more to life that Soonyeol could be enjoying. Heeseung may have provided her with all the material comforts and companions she desires, but Jongseong knows that true fulfilment goes beyond mere possessions and superficial fantasies. He saw it in you - someone with everything the big city life could offer, yet still yearning for more.

So, he's been spending more time with Soonyeol, teaching her to play instruments and nurturing her interest in gardening. And with Jaeyun no longer by her side like a clingy pup, her schedule has opened right up, leaving more time for Jongseong to show her the joys of a fuller, more enriched life.

Jaeyun absentmindedly rubs his thumb over your once-pricked finger, as if Jongseong mentioning it might cause you to feel the pain again. You can't help but smile at his gesture of concern. It's a small yet meaningful reminder of his caring nature, his instinct to comfort you even in the most subtle of ways.

“Jaeyun can help me actually, I have some rubble to take around to the bins if you could help me?” Jongseong suggests.

"Sure thing, Jongseong," Jaeyun replies eagerly, ever willing to lend a hand. "Lead the way."

With a nod from Jongseong, the two of them head off to tackle the task at hand, leaving you momentarily alone in the living room with Soonyeol. It's not that you don't get along with her - she's been more than welcoming to you in her home - but it's still strange to be left alone with her, unsure of what she knows about your relationship with the boys or what transpired while she was gone.

You grab Jaeyun’s suitcase and hold it next to yours, “I’ll go put these away and come through,” you smile politely, trying to avoid being in a one-on-one conversation with Soonyeol just in case you talk about how big Jongseong’s cock is and how you felt it jump when he picked you up.

"I can get one of the other boys to do that," she offers kindly, but you decline, shaking your head. "Well, Jaeyun's room is all set up if you want to set up camp there."

"Thanks, Soonyeol. I appreciate it," you reply, grateful for her understanding. With that, you make a hasty exit, eager to avoid any potentially awkward conversations for now.

_____

On your way to the room, you make a tiny little detour. Should you, considering every time you linger in places you aren’t meant to be, you end up in peculiar situations? No. Did you, because each of those peculiar situations has made you feel alive and there’s no scaring you anymore? Of course.

Standing outside the library, you twist the creaking knob and push the door open slowly. The familiar smell of old books fills your nostrils, and a sense of nostalgia washes over you. It's been a while since you've been in here, and you can't help but feel drawn to the rows of dusty bookshelves, each one holding countless stories and secrets within its pages.

Sighing quietly, you step inside, letting the essence of the library envelop you. Despite the risks, there's something about this place that calls to you, beckoning you to explore its hidden treasures once more.

Perhaps it’s the literal phone to hell that brought you here first of all places in the house.

You glance over at the painting of the sheep, its head firmly back on its human shoulders but despite seeing it countless times and being fucked mercilessly on the other side of the door it shields, you can’t help but still feel some distress. It is so easy to forget about its existence when it isn’t staring back at you. 

You find yourself drawn to it, despite your better judgement. There's something about the way it seems to watch you, its eyes following your every move, that fills you with a sense of unease. You can't quite pinpoint which part of your body is drawn to coming back to it, but you hate it all the same.

“There’s still time to change your mind.”

That siren voice pierces your ears, instantly sending a shiver down your spine. Tension coils in your muscles as you recognise the voice, its allure tinged with an undercurrent of danger.

Turning slowly, you come face to face with the source of the voice, and your breath catches in your throat as you see Heeseung smirking before you. His lips glisten as he licks them, his eyes roaming all over your body with an intensity that makes you feel as though you might as well be naked.

His gaze pierces through you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. There's something about the way he looks at you, a hunger in his eyes that sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You swallow hard, trying to regain your composure in the face of his intense scrutiny. Despite the unease that grips you, a part of you can't deny the pull of his magnetic presence, drawing you in despite knowing better. He just has something about him that you can’t shake from your soul, like he has some weird grip on you.

With a forced calmness, you meet his gaze head-on, determined not to let him see the fear that churns within you. "Hi, Heeseung," you reply evenly, keeping your tone steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.

"Hi, baby. You miss me?" he asks, his voice low and seductive as he snakes towards you with deliberate steps.

You fight the urge to succumb to his magnetic presence, to fall to your knees and let him use you as he pleases. Instead, you stand your ground, ignoring the way your spine quakes with each of his measured steps.

"You know you're tempting fate by coming back here," Heeseung says, his eyebrow raised knowingly.

His observation cuts through the air like a knife, striking a chord of truth deep within you. There's no denying the danger that lurks within the walls of this mansion, especially when it comes to Heeseung himself. The Prince of Hell was once ready to offer you everything you desired in exchange for Soonyeol's existence, and you were dangerously close to accepting.

That's the trouble with Heeseung—he always seems to know what you want, even when you try to convince yourself otherwise. Deep down, a part of you still yearns for the life he could offer you, the power and influence that come with being by his side. But you have Jaeyun now and you’re happier than ever to come home to someone who loves you more than the trees love to blow in the wind. 

"I came here because Jaeyun wanted to, not for you," you argue back, mustering all the confidence you can fake as you fix your posture.

"My sweet baby," Heeseung tuts, closing the distance between your bodies with a smoothness that makes your heart race. It's as if you're two steps away from embarking on a lovers' tango. He reaches out, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him dead in the eyes. "Are you saying you didn't miss us?" he asks, his voice low and seductive, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Of course, you missed them - all of them. But the way you missed Jongseong and Sunghoon is vastly different from the way you missed Heeseung. With Jongseong and Sunghoon, it's a deep, heartfelt longing, born out of adoration and connection. But with Heeseung, it's different - it's a craving, an addiction to the thrill of his touch and the excitement he brings to your life with a mere snap of his fingers.

You can never admit that to him, though. The truth would only complicate things further, and you've worked too hard to suppress the nightly urges to pray to him and have him sweep you away. So you keep your lips sealed and push away any thoughts connecting to the matter.

Your silence only fuels Heeseung more, the once gentle grip he had on your chin now tightening to lock you onto him. “I think about that day you snuck into my room. How you were whimpering like a dog in heat,” he ridicules, leaning dangerously close so his lips are ghosting over yours, “Do you remember? You were grinding yourself on my foot like a pathetic little bitch.”

The humiliation washes over you in waves, threatening to drown you in its wake. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your body betraying you with its response to his words. Why are you getting wet over this? It's humiliating, degrading, and pride-destroying, yet you can't deny the visceral arousal coursing through your veins.

You're on the edge, teetering dangerously close to surrendering to the desire that simmers between you and Heeseung. Part of you wants to mewl out and ask him to do it again, to succumb to the intoxicating pull of his dominance. But another part of you - the part that still clings to the fragile threads of self-respect - fights against it, struggling to maintain some semblance of control in the face of his overwhelming presence.

Before you can say another word or do anything you will live to regret, you feel someone standing at the door.

“Heeseung, Soonyeol is asking for you,” Sunghoon’s deep voice rings out like a bell of relief.

Quickly regaining your composure, you take a step back, putting some distance between yourself and the lingering echoes of your encounter with Heeseung. Sunghoon's accidental interruption may have saved you from making a decision you would regret, and for that, you're grateful.

But while you're relieved, Heeseung is clearly disgruntled. An annoyed groan escapes his lips as he rolls his eyes, his frustration is evident in his demeanour. He knows how close you were to giving in, and if he had just a sliver more time with you, he might have ensnared you like a Venus flytrap.

With a curt nod, Heeseung heads towards the door, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room. But before he leaves, he turns his head to look back at you, his eyes piercing and intense.

"My offer is still on the table, baby," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and determination. "Come find me."

His words hang in the air like a tantalising invitation, tempting you with the promise of fulfilling your deep-rooted desires.

Sunghoon clears his throat, his gentle smile a reassuring beacon in the midst of Heeseung's lingering presence. "Did you forget where the bedrooms are in your time away?" he quips, his tone light yet mindful of the heavy atmosphere.

You manage a small chuckle, grateful for the diversion. "No, just got a little sidetracked," you reply, appreciating Sunghoon's effort to ease the tension. You won’t go into detail about how you were seeking out the altar on some nostalgia tour.

Just as you're about to speak, Sunghoon smoothly takes hold of the two pieces of luggage and begins to stride towards Jaeyun's room.

"I see that snooping habit of yours is still alive and well," Sunghoon remarks, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you, his tone playful.

You hum softly in acknowledgement, unable to deny the truth in his jest. Glancing around, you admire the porcelain dolls that line the hallway, their delicate features and intricate dresses catching your eye. They are so beautiful that you wonder how on earth anyone could be scared of them or find them haunting.

Sunghoon follows your gaze, his own eyes softening as he looks at the dolls you're fondly staring at. "They've missed you," he comments, his voice filled with a hint of nostalgia.

"I missed them too," you admit with a wistful smile, your fingers grazing the smooth surface of one of the dolls as you walk.

Sunghoon's playful demeanour turns gentle at your confession, a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. "I'm sure they're glad to have you back," he replies, his voice carrying a note of sincerity, “I know I am.”

His admission brings your attention back to him, but his stare quickly averts, darting around the corridor as if looking for an escape from your piercing gaze.

Moments like this are subtle with Sunghoon, he isn’t quite ready to be vulnerable but you know under the demonic persona that harbours his entity, there is a kindness to him. In your time here, you didn’t see it often, typically during the post-orgasm bliss or when you needed a bit of reassurance, but in those times his vulnerability lasted just long enough to seep through.

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon's admission, the playful banter lifting the tension that had lingered. Lightly jabbing his shoulder, you tease, "Did you miss me that much?"

Sunghoon's chuckle is warm and genuine, a sound that fills the hallway with a sense of ease. He nods in response, his gaze still fixed ahead, as if he's unwilling to meet your eyes. "A lot, more than I thought I would, baby girl," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. Despite his attempts to mask it, you can sense his words hold a strong susceptivity that he's not quite ready to fully embrace.

But you understand. Because you feel the same way.

“I missed you too, Sunghoon,” you murmur, your voice filled with the same quiet genuine feelings. Sometimes there is no need for loud, grand declaring gestures of fondness, sometimes it’s as simple as saying your feelings out loud.

Reaching Jaeyun’s room, Sunghoon halts, setting your suitcases down with care. "Here's where you get off, in every sense of the phrase," he quips with a playful smirk and a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. 

Your cheeks flare with a crimson hue as embarrassment floods through you, a groan escaping your lips at his suggestive remark. Truth be told, nobody's fooling themselves about you and Jaeyun - your intimate escapades are hardly a secret. Mia's blunt commentary hasn't let you forget it either, threatening noise complaints with each ‘Fuck, Jaeyun, you look so pretty sucked into my pussy like that’.

Sunghoon's hand gently cups your cheek, his lips pressing tenderly against your forehead. His gesture catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned. You're now with Jaeyun, and the sudden affection feels awkward, though undeniably stirring. You feel yourself at melting point as you succumb to his touch so easily.

You hadn’t spoken to Jaeyun about any of this, to be fair, you hadn’t imagined any of the dolls would care about you in this way now that Soonyeol was back, knowing their bond with her was much stronger than the one with you. You’ve silently asked Jaeyun not to go back to Soonyeol and that means in any form, which is probably why you feel so guilty because, in the past 20 minutes, you’ve wanted to jump on two out of three of his brothers’ bones.

Sunghoon's gaze meets yours, and he senses the rapid thumping of your heart, understanding instantly why you're so uneasy. With a gentle clearing of his throat, he withdraws from you.

"Sorry, force of habit," he confesses, his tone filled with remorse. Yet, it's a habit he shouldn't have slipped back into so effortlessly, yet it felt like breathing; as if touching you was his birthright.

You wave off his apology, understanding that his intentions were never malicious. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, you know Sunghoon's actions stemmed from familiarity rather than any ill intent towards you and Jaeyun’s relationship.

He shared you with the other doll for so long that these things can easily skip his mind.

Inhaling sharply, he nods, “Soonyeol wants us all around the table for dinner, something about lasagna she found in the freezer.”

_____

After dinner, you find yourselves nestled comfortably in the living room, enveloped by the warmth of the crackling fire and the gentle hum of conversation. Soft melodies drift through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the group. 

You observe with a sense of contentment as the dolls and Soonyeol engage in lively discussion, their interactions filled with genuine interest and respect. There's a certain harmony to their dynamic, a shared understanding that speaks volumes about their bond.

It occurs to you that this must have been the essence of their existence before you entered the picture - the simple joy of companionship, the comfort of having each other's company. And while your presence may have altered the dynamics in some ways, tonight, surrounded by their collective warmth, you can't help but appreciate the beauty of their unity.

You don’t regret having Jaeyun by your side but his hearty laughter at Jongseong’s terrible jokes or playful pouts towards Sunghoon as he gets teased only make you wonder if you made the right choice.

You can't help but notice the intimate scene unfolding between Soonyeol and Heeseung, their easy familiarity and tender gestures speaking volumes. As Soonyeol recounts her childhood mishap, Heeseung's touch becomes a silent reassurance, his hand tracing soothing patterns along her arm while offering gentle squeezes of support whenever she mentions moments of pain.

Their relationship is a puzzle to you - a blend of affection and care. Soonyeol's adoration for Heeseung is evident in the way her eyes light up when she's near him, reaching for his hand with a longing that mirrors your own gestures of comfort with Jaeyun. And Heeseung, in turn, showers her with gestures of kindness and devotion, his actions speaking volumes about the depth of his feelings.

Yet, he is still posing the offer to get rid of her for you to stay. No person in love would give their partner up so easily.

Jaeyun interrupts your thoughts as he starts up his Switch, the melody drawing your attention away from the complicated couple. He begins to show Jongseong the wonders of technology even though Jongseong has lived long enough to know what a gaming console is and what its purposes are. But as always, he lets Jaeyun yap away and acts clueless.

Glancing at the clock, you realise it's already 10pm, and the exhaustion from the day's long drive begins to weigh on you. Your social battery, already running low, signals that it's time for some much-needed rest.

"I'm going to head to bed," you announce softly, taking advantage of the momentary lull in the conversation.

Jaeyun's gaze shifts to you, his expression momentarily puzzled before softening with understanding as he notices your fatigue. It’s so refreshing to have a man care about you the way Jaeyun does, you almost don’t understand how at one point, a boy with his personality was just walking around and existing as a human. You understand why he was chosen to be an angel.

Puckering his lips playfully, Jaeyun leans in expectantly, silently requesting a goodnight kiss. Without hesitation, you lean in beside him, meeting his lips with tenderness. As your mouths meet, a gentle murmur escapes him, barely audible against your lips. "I'll come through in a bit," he suggests softly.

You shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's okay, baby. Spend some time with everyone," you murmur in return, nudging your nose against his affectionately. He gives you a questioning look, silently asking if you're sure, to which you simply nod in reassurance.

"Okay, I love you," he smiles warmly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his affection as he bids you goodnight.

"Love you too," you reply softly, your heart swelling as you reciprocate his affectionate words. With a lingering gaze, you reluctantly pull away from Jaeyun's embrace, a fond smile gracing your lips as you whisper your goodnight.

Turning to the rest of the group, you offer a warm farewell, exchanging nods and smiles before excusing yourself from the cosy gathering. As you make your way down the hallway to your bedroom, the soft glow of the dimmed lights casts a tranquil ambience, enveloping you in a sense of calm.

The gentle padding of your footsteps echoes through the hallway, accompanied by the occasional crackle of the fire in the living room. Each step brings you closer to the comfort of your own space, where you can finally unwind and recharge after the day's events.

You enter the room and head straight for your case, opening it to rummage around for the pyjamas you packed. Unlike your doll spouse, you packed only the essentials, that being Jaeyun’s oversized t-shirt and some underwear. You still don’t understand why he would bring a full set of plaid pyjamas when he always sleeps in his boxers anyway.

Your fingers pause in their search as you hear the soft knock on the already slightly ajar door. Swiftly turning around, panties in hand, you're met with the sight of Sunghoon standing there, holding a cup of water in his hands, his eyes lingering on the pink underwear you're holding.

"Those are my favourite," he remarks, tilting his head to nod at the delicate garment dangling from your finger, his tone laced with playful mischief.

You quickly shove the panties back into your case, laughing awkwardly to diffuse the moment. It's silly to feel bashful around Sunghoon - he's seen every pair you own, every part of you laid bare - he's even seen your period pants, and those are definitely not a pretty sight.

Sunghoon chuckles at your antics, choosing to ignore the urge to tease you about your now beetroot face. Holding the glass of water up to catch your sight he walks into your room. “Here, thought you could use some water. It’s been hot as hell at nighttime these days.”

You nod appreciatively, touched by his consideration, as he places the glass on your bedside table. As he turns back to you, you meet his gaze, silently exchanging stares. He’s grown a little softer since you last saw him. You don’t know if it’s just your imagination or the lighting, but his eyes look less cold and that black cloud that followed him around is a faded shade of grey.

Instead of leaving, he just stays put as if he wishes to speak to you about something but he doesn’t have the courage to. It’s ironic considering he’s a demon from the underworld and you’re just a girl, yet, he looks slightly scared of you. It’s such a juxtaposition to a few months ago that you wonder what transpired here after you left.

You decide to at least make some conversation to fill the silence, “How has it been here? I bet you’re all having a great time now that there is one less doll to fight for Soonyeol’s attention,” you jab teasingly, smiling softly.

He gives you a soft pity laugh, one that someone gives when the other couldn’t be more wrong in their assumptions. “It’s pretty much the same,” he shrugs, stepping closer to you, his demeanour shifting, anguish bubbling under the surface slightly. “She mushes over Heeseung and Jongseong, they go about their business.”

“And you?”

“I’m…here,” he breathes out, dejection laced within his tone.

Sunghoon settles onto the edge of your bed, clasping his hands together, and you can't help but feel a pang of concern for him. His internal struggle is evident, and you wonder if he's wrestling with something he's hesitant to share. Never once you’ve seen him look so human, his normal cold exterior could give you ice burn, so this is new territory for both of you.

With a soft sigh, Sunghoon finally starts to speak. It's clear he's grappling with whether to open up or keep his thoughts to himself. “You know, it never used to bother me, being the last choice or even just a choice for that matter. I got what I wanted, I was content with everything.”

Sunghoon's words hang in the air, heavy with a sense of resignation. You listen quietly, sensing the weight of his thoughts as he navigates the complexities of them. This has to be difficult for him considering demons aren’t known for heart-to-hearts, so you want to give him the respect he deserves and take in his thoughts.

"I didn’t care because I don’t think I’ve felt anything for a long time," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "The past however many years down there, and the almost five years here, I just didn’t feel a thing. No happiness, no sadness, no fucking thing at all." 

His words sit heavily in your heart, and you can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him rather. You can understand having a lot of emotions at once but if he hasn’t felt them in years, he might as well be laying down in a stampede of turmoil.

He chuckles darkly and shakes his head, grasping the heaviness of the situation as he says it out loud for the first time. “When I was working as a soldier under Dis, it was like I had to switch them off to survive. I couldn’t keep any humane aspect of me because it would kill me to know that I was doing all these cruel and monstrous things.”

His words paint a vivid picture of the internal battle he's waged for survival, forced to suppress his humanity in order to endure the atrocities he was compelled to commit, the experience surrendering him to his demon ways. It's a harrowing revelation, one that leaves you grappling with the enormity of his suffering. 

Sunghoon's words challenge your preconceived notions about demons, forcing you to reconsider your assumptions about their nature. While you once believed that demons took pride in their wrongdoings and found pleasure in the pain of others, Sunghoon's experience suggests otherwise. Perhaps some demons are simply products of their environment, forced to adapt to survive in a world that demands cruelty and brutality.

As you reflect on Sunghoon's past and his evident lack of joy in his actions, you begin to question whether he truly belongs in the same category as the demons you once feared. Maybe he wasn't a bad guy at all, just someone who was given the wrong end of the deal. While he may not have been saintly enough to earn a place in heaven, he also doesn't seem to fit the mould of a typical demon.

The realisation dawns on you that perhaps Sunghoon defies easy categorisation, existing in a grey area between good and evil. Surely, in the universe you inhabit, with its myriad mystical creatures - demons, angels, goblins, and humans alike - there must be an understanding that no one person is entirely pure or wholly evil.

"I turned up, did my job, rinse and repeat, you know? And killing people, well, that was one thing, but the torture of people who didn’t even deserve it, or the…" he swallows harshly, as if suppressing the disgust that bubbles from his guilt, struggling to admit anything else he partook in, "I did all that, with no bat of an eye for so fucking long."

His admission is raw and unfiltered, laying bare the depths of his remorse and the internal struggle he's faced. It's clear that he carries a heavy burden of guilt, grappling with his past life as a soldier.

For a moment, there's a palpable silence between you, the weight of his confession settling over the room like a thick fog. You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure of how to offer comfort or solace in the face of such profound suffering. This isn’t someone's cat dying, this is years of mental torture, and nothing you say can console that.

Grabbing his hand, you interlock your fingers with his. "You must have had something good inside of you to stand up against Dis though, to fight your way out of his legion," you offer softly, hoping to provide some semblance of comfort.

It may not be much, but you want Sunghoon to know that you see beyond his past, beyond the darkness that once consumed him. You want him to understand that whatever happened down there in the depths of hell, you won't judge him for it. His struggle and sacrifice to break free from that life, to reject the cruelty and injustice he was forced to perpetuate, speaks volumes about the strength of his character.

"Dis wants death to everything he didn’t create," he growls out, his tone dripping with contempt. "He was being greedy and started hurting fellow soldiers. It doesn’t take emotion to know that it was going to end in a be killed or die trying situation."

The memory of his fellow soldiers' bodies burning before him flashes vividly in his mind, and you can sense the torment in his voice as he relives those traumatic moments. He thinks about the countless times he was made to strike the match, being complicit in the horror that unfolded before his eyes, and the guilt weighs heavily on his conscience.

"That doesn’t make me a good person," he continues, his voice trembling with self-condemnation. "It makes me scum because I watched it for so long, turning a blind eye when I should have been doing anything at all to stop it."

His admission is gut-wrenching, laying bare the depths of his remorse and self-loathing. In that moment, you're overwhelmed by a profound sense of empathy for him, wanting nothing more than to offer comfort and support as he grapples with the demons of his past.

Sunghoon’s body trembles as all his emotions flood him, his entity unequipped to handle such a vast complexity. 

"Oh, Sunghoon," you murmur softly, your heart aching for him as you envelop him in a tight embrace, offering what comfort you can in this moment of vulnerability. You hold him close, rocking him gently as he grapples with the weight of his confession.

"I can't imagine how you're feeling," you continue, your voice filled with empathy and compassion. "No one ever will, and I wish I could take the pain away from everything that you're feeling."

Sunghoon nods in response, his gaze fixed on the ground as his eyes flicker between black and normal. You hold him tighter, silently offering your support and understanding as he processes the tumult of emotions swirling within him. At this moment, all you can do is be there for him, a source of solace amid his inner turmoil.

Pushing you away gently, Sunghoon finally looks at you, his gaze searching your eyes for understanding. When he sees the genuine sympathy reflected in your gaze, he relaxes slightly, a sense of relief washing over him.

"I think you brought my humanity back," he confesses, his thumb stroking your hand to comfort you as if you were the one who just had vivid flashbacks to the worst moments of your life and not him.

You tilt your head in confusion, your brows furrowing. His light laughter at your concerned expression eases the tension slightly, but you're still puzzled by his words. 

"It's not a bad thing, baby girl, don't worry," Sunghoon reassures you, his tone gentle as he seeks to alleviate any concerns you may have. But there's a determination in his eyes as he continues, a resolve to confront the turmoil within him head-on.

"Yes, I'm going to have to work through whatever the fuck trauma I have because there are so many negative feelings right now," he admits, his voice tinged with resignation. "But you, fuck, you made me experience all the good ones again."

His words catch you off guard, a surge of emotion welling up within you as you realise the impact you've had on him. Despite the darkness of his past and the challenges that lie ahead, there's a glimmer of hope in his words. “You have done something that Soonyeol couldn’t do, something I couldn’t even do for myself.” 

Reaching his hand up, he cradles your face just like earlier, this time rather than instinct, it’s purposeful, to ease you into his next bout of words. “When you were here, I knew I wanted you around all the time. At first, I thought it was just because I was bored and you were there.”

Ouch. 

He sees your wince at his brutal honesty, and his eyes widen in realisation. "Oh god, baby girl, no, no no," he exclaims, his other hand reaching out now to cup both your cheeks as he shakes his head fervently. He rolls his eyes at his own passing comment, recognising that it's probably the last thing you want to hear.

"I don’t mean it like that," he clarifies quickly, his voice laced with urgency. "I mean, I stopped thinking like that after a few weeks in. I felt warmth for the first time in so long that I thought Dis had found me and I was being dragged back to hell with how warm it was."

You grasp his hands, gently pulling them away from your face as you listen intently to his words. You haven’t said much, but there's nothing to say right now. You can't interrupt him while he's pouring his heart out to you. Instead, you offer him your unwavering support, silently conveying your understanding and acceptance as he shares his innermost thoughts and feelings with you.

Once he sees that you’re no longer offended by his words, he continues, “When you left, I tried to turn it off, longing for you the way I did. I thought you would never come back so I tried to shut the pain out, but somehow it only made every feeling and memory I had suppressed come to the front of my mind, I missed you as soon as you drove off that day, and I miss you even more now that you’re sitting in front of me.”

“Sunghoon, you don’t have to miss me when I’m right here.”

“But you’ll never be mine. Jaeyun is your soulmate, how the fuck am I supposed to compete with that?” he asks softly, laughing away his anguish. He is trying to hide it but you can see this is as painful to him as reliving those memories. You didn’t realise the hold you had on him or how leaving would affect him.

In all honesty, you thought that with Soonyeol back, the other boys wouldn’t need you at all. Heeseung can say he wants you but that’s in no way the same way that Jaeyun wants you, the way Sunghoon clearly wants you. 

You had missed the acts of care he performed for you, the aftercare becoming more loving as the weeks passed, how he would spend the night in your bed and cuddle despite his inability to sleep. He did all of this for you because…

"Whatever love feels like, I think this is as close as I am capable of feeling," Sunghoon confesses, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Hooni-"

"I know, you have Jaeyun and we can’t share anymore, but I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me," he interrupts gently, his words filled with gratitude.

"We could."

You hear a voice in the doorway, and as you turn to face it, you see Jaeyun standing awkwardly, his eyes shifting between you and Sunghoon.

Removing yourself from Sunghoon's embrace, you're acutely aware of the situation's delicate nature. Jaeyun must have been standing there for a while, silently witnessing his brother's confession to you.

Sunghoon's expression tightens, a mixture of surprise and apprehension crossing his features as he exchanges a hesitant glance with Jaeyun. It's clear that he hadn't anticipated Jaeyun's sudden appearance, and the tension in the room thickens with his presence.

For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words lingering between the three of you. As you search for the right words to break the awkwardness, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the situation you find yourself in.

Jaeyun offers a small smile, his eyes softening with understanding. "We could share again, like before," he suggests gently.

Sunghoon shakes his head, his expression sombre. "Jaeyun, we can't. It's different now that you're both in a relationship," he explains, his voice tinged with regret. "Look, I didn't come in here to get in between you both. I just wanted you to know how I felt. I think maybe saying it out loud could help me process it all a little better," he confesses, his gaze shifting between you and Jaeyun.

"You love Y/N, I love her too," he begins, his voice calm yet resolute. "I think as her partner, I want her to experience love from every person she can receive it."

His words are met with a moment of contemplative silence, the weight of his proposition sinking in. Sunghoon's expression softens, a flicker of gratitude and relief crossing his features as he processes Jaeyun's unexpected response.

"Baby doll, relationships don’t work that way, I mean they can but not ours," you murmur softly, the words tumbling out as you try to make sense of the situation.

But Jaeyun's next question catches you off guard, causing you to pause and consider his words carefully. "You love him too, do you not?" he asks, his gaze steady as he waits for your response, no judgment in his tone.

Do you love Sunghoon?

There’s no denying there is something there between you both, but you never gave into it once you found out he was a demon, knowing that you already make bad enough choices with men nevermind falling for an evil entity - the men you’ve swiped on tinder are demonic enough.

But you know now that he isn’t evil. In no way is he a saint but who is? He’s been labelled evil yet as you stare at him, you see nothing but a bright soul staring back at you. You have feelings for him, those could be love if you open up your heart to him rather than closing it away.

You look into Sunghoon’s eyes and realise, there’s only one organ in your body that you should listen to, and it thumps so easily for Sunghoon.

"Yes," you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love him."

The admission hangs in the air, the weight of it settling over the room like a gentle breeze. In that moment, you feel a sense of clarity and certainty wash over you. 

Despite the happiness within your chest at the words finally leaving your lips, you worry about Jaeyun’s reaction to your words. Yet, when you look at him, your pretty doll is smiling widely, walking over to you both. Jaeyun's smile is radiant, his eyes alight with genuine happiness as he approaches. There's a warmth in his expression that fills you with a sense of reassurance as if he's silently affirming his acceptance and support.

“Then let’s do it. Sunghoon, you’ll love it in the city, there is so much to do and see. There are so many things to take pictures of, and they have indoor ice rinks, can you believe it? You don’t even need to wait until the lake freezes over in the winter to skate!”

Jaeyun’s excitement fills the air, any tension from Sunghoon’s past revelations or his loving confession is now swept to the side due to your boyfriend’s happiness. He’s one in a million because what other man could hear their best friend and girlfriend confessing love to one another and be thrilled about the prospect of a throuple?

Sunghoon smiles but shakes his head, “I can’t come with you, Jaeyun. Heeseung would never let me go. Plus, Soonyeol already had a hard time when you left, I can’t do that to her.”

"You mean the same Soonyeol who doesn’t pay attention to you anymore?" you inquire, your words cutting through the tension with brutal honesty. It's a difficult question to ask, but one that needs to be addressed.

Sunghoon's expression tightens at your blunt assessment, a flicker of pain crossing his features before he composes himself.

"What would the old you do? Not this Sunghoon, the one just before I arrived here?" you press, your voice gentle yet insistent.

He ponders your question, his gaze falling to the ground as he delves deep into his thoughts. After a moment of silence, he speaks, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I would have... done what I wanted."

"And what do you want?" Jaeyun prompts.

Sunghoon hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours for guidance. Then, with a sense of resolve, he confesses, "I want to come with you." His words hang in the air, a tangible declaration of his desires and aspirations. In that moment, you can feel the weight of his longing, his yearning for something more than the confines of his current existence. “It’s not that easy though.”

“Forget about all that, just follow your emotions for now," you say with a fond smile, urging Sunghoon to trust in his instincts. "What are they saying to you?"

“That I should kiss you.”

Your gaze flickers to Jaeyun, whose grin speaks volumes, his eyes filled with understanding. With a quick nod of agreement from your boyfriend, you return your attention to Sunghoon, who appears rigid and apprehensive, fearing he may have been too honest in his confession and jeopardised his chances.

Perhaps he should have expressed the deep-seated desire for freedom that has been gnawing at him. Heeseung had painted a picture of independence, free from rules and authority, a dream Sunghoon longed to pursue. But trapped within the confines of the mansion, he realises he's merely exchanged one form of captivity for another.

Was it as brutal as Dis? Not in any shape or form, but as long as Heeseung reigns over this mansion, Sunghoon might as well be back in the cell.

Sunghoon feels stifled, yearning for the freedom to chart his own course. In the months since you've been apart, he's come to understand that true freedom isn't just about evading control; it's about embracing the power to shape his own destiny. This isn’t the life he needs.

He needs a life with you.

Once you see his eyes soften, you know whatever turmoil is raging in his head is subsiding, giving you the opening to reach out and touch his face, providing any reassurance that you can. 

Looking into Sunghoon's eyes, you see a beautiful flicker of humanity, and you know that no matter what happens, you need to do everything in your power to help him leave the confines of this house.

Kissing your palm, Sunghoon closes his eyes and trails his lips up your arm, leaving a path of tender kisses. His touch is so gentle, so unlike his usual intensity, that your body melts under his love. You're acutely aware of how special this moment is, knowing that very few have ever experienced this side of him.

He shuffles closer to you on the bed, continuing his path along your shoulder and up your neck. He sucks softly and swiftly over your tender spot, eliciting a small whimper from you. It's been so long since Sunghoon touched you that his lips had become a distant memory. Yet for him, these kisses and caresses are second nature; he hasn’t stopped thinking about you or your preferences since you left.

Having spent so much time together, Sunghoon learned everything there is to know about you. He discovered your pleasure points, memorised your likes and dislikes, and committed them to memory. Even when he touched himself at night or shared fleeting moments with Soonyeol, it was you he thought about. His body instinctively moved to please you, even if it was another woman beneath him.

He wonders if that's why Soonyeol has become more distant. Perhaps she senses the difference, noticing how his movements lack the passion he reserves for his memories of you. Her body, as much as he might try to please her, is incomparable to yours in his mind.

Sunghoon's kisses grow more fervent, his hands roaming your body as if he's trying to memorize every curve and contour. You respond in kind, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer. The connection between you is electric, a mixture of longing and hope that fuels your determination to free him.

"Let me have you," he whispers against your skin, his voice filled with vulnerability and desperation. "Even if it’s just for tonight."

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart aching at the raw emotion you see within him. “I’ll do everything I can to hold you forever, Hoonie,” you whisper tenderly, hoping your words convey the sincerity of your heart.

He closes the space between you, his mouth enveloping yours with such desire that it takes your breath away. His tongue wraps around yours as his hands grip your waist, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. The kiss is hot, making your whole body feel like it's on fire, your lips plumping with each lick and suck from Sunghoon. He loves the taste of you more than anything.

His hands slide under your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. You arch into his touch, feeling the intensity of his desire matching your own. Every movement, every caress, is filled with a desperate need to hold onto this moment, to make it last as long as possible.

Sunghoon's lips leave yours to trail kisses down your neck, his breath warm and tantalising against your skin. You tilt your head back, giving him better access as he continues his path, his hands now exploring the curves of your hips and thighs.

Your fingers tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. You run your hands over his toned chest. He groans softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he returns his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

Jaeyun observes you both lose yourselves in each other, his hand subconsciously reaching for his clothed cock, palming himself for some relief. Although your back is facing him, the noises escaping your mouth are enough to tell him that you’re enjoying yourself. Every moan, every gasp, sends shivers down his spine and fuels his own arousal.

The sight of Sunghoon devouring you with his kisses, the way your bodies move together with such desperate passion, it’s all too much for Jaeyun to handle. He bites his lip, trying to suppress the groan building in his throat as his hand moves with more urgency.

Sunghoon's hands roam your body with a fervour that speaks of months of pent-up desire. He caresses your sides, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. His mouth travels from your lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet, burning kisses that make you shiver.

You arch your back, pressing closer to Sunghoon, your breath hitching with each touch. Your hands find their way to his hair, tugging gently, eliciting a deep groan from him. The sound reverberates through your body, intensifying the pleasure coursing through you.

Jaeyun's eyes hood over, fixed on the way Sunghoon's hands knead your flesh, the way your body responds to every touch, every kiss. He can see the way Sunghoon's tongue glides along your collarbone, the way your skin flushes under his attention.

The room fills with the sounds of your shared desire, creating an intoxicating symphony that pushes Jaeyun closer to the edge. He can't tear his eyes away from you, can't stop the rhythm of his hand as he imagines being part of this heated exchange.

Sunghoon’s kisses grow more intense, his hands exploring the soft skin beneath your shirt. He cups your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples over your bra, drawing a sharp gasp from you. You press into him, craving more, and he responds by capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

Jaeyun's breath catches in his throat as he watches, his own desire building to a fever pitch. He longs to join you, to feel your touch, to lose himself in the shared heat of your bodies. He wishes there was a way to indulge in your session and give you just as much pleasure as Sunghoon is.

Noticing his friend's act of arousal, Sunghoon’s eyes flicker to Jaeyun’s crotch where the hard outline of his dick strains against his trousers. Jaeyun’s hand moves faster, dipping below the waistband in a futile attempt to find relief. It’s not fair to leave him out, especially considering it’s with his consent that you and Sunghoon can divulge like this, offering to share you is an act of love. Sunghoon would be cruel to leave him out.

“Jaeyun, come here,” Sunghoon commands, his voice husky and filled with an unspoken promise.

Jaeyun hesitates for a moment, his eyes locking with yours when you turn around to look at him. You nod, a silent invitation that sends a thrill through him. Although Sunghoon is only kissing you, you looked so fucked out already that Jaeyun wonders if he could have the same effect.

Because you’ve only ever had sex with both of them separately, Jaeyun has never thought about how you are with Sunghoon. He has never been jealous, always willing to understand that what Sunghoon gives you is different from him, but seeing it in action is making him want to prove his worth.

Shifting slightly backwards on the bed, Sunghoon creates space for Jaeyun to join, his hold on your waist tightening. When you both situate yourself in the middle of the king-sized bed, Sunghoon bucks his hips up, drawing out a long moan from you. “I’m still in charge, got it?” he warns you playfully, biting at your bottom lip. He knows you take control of the situation with Jaeyun but there’s no way Sunghoon will let you do that now.

Quickly, you nod and peck his lips, “Anything you say, but go easy on him, yeah?” you ask, your eyes searching his for agreement. You love how rough Sunghoon is with you but Jaeyun doesn’t like to be degraded the way you do; it’s important that Jaeyun gets the reassurance he needs throughout the experience.

As Jaeyun climbs onto the bed, you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his cheek before pulling him into a deep, lingering kiss. The sensation of having both men so close, so eager, sends waves of pleasure through you.

Sunghoon’s hands continue their exploration, his touch firm and possessive, while Jaeyun’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer with a gentler touch. The three of you move together in a rhythm that feels both natural and intoxicating.

Sunghoon leans in, his lips brushing against Jaeyun’s ear. “Let’s make her feel everything she deserves. Don't be selfish, understand?” he murmurs, his voice a sultry promise. You never thought you would be so turned on by the affection shared between them. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel Jaeyun whine into your mouth at Sunghoon’s close proximity.

With a firm slap on your thigh, Sunghoon signals for you to climb off his lap, only for Jaeyun to smile and pull you closer to him. While you’re busy kissing your boyfriend, Sunghoon’s fingers dance up your back, unclasping your bra to let your tits bounce freely. He presses his chest to your back and starts to grasp your boobs roughly, tweaking and pulling at your sensitive nipples.

He leans his chin on your shoulder and licks a long strip up your neck before nibbling at your ear. “I want you to ride his face, baby girl, you can do that for me, can’t you?”

You draw back from Jaeyun’s lips, eyes widening as you process his words. Sunghoon’s intense stare sends shivers down your spine, and you feel a rush of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. 

Normally you would say no because you don’t want to suffocate your partner, scared that you’ll get so lost in pleasure that you will trap them down there and cut off their oxygen, their last memories being succumbed to your pussy. But they don’t breathe so there is not a percentage of a chance that your apprehensions could come true.

Jaeyun’s ears perk up, curious to how you will react. You aren’t one to receive head from him, opting to focus on his pleasure rather than your own when it comes to oral; the noises he makes are enough for you most of the time, plus, it’s his cock that is the real star of the show after all.

Sunghoon’s hands wrap around your wrists, bringing them to a stretch. “Keep them there or else I’ll need to tie you up. You don’t want that, do you?” he murmurs against your skin, his hands snaking down your arms, ghosting over your armpit to make you shiver. 

Of course, you don’t want that because then you can’t touch them, you can’t run your fingers through Jaeyun’s hair or grip onto Sunghoon’s back when he drives into you. Touching them was almost as good as the sex itself.

With a nod, Sunghoon plants a peck on your shoulder as a thank you for your cooperation, although he is a little sad he couldn’t tie up your pretty body so he can use you as he pleases. Another time, maybe.

“Jaeyun, take off your clothes,” he instructs his best friend who eagerly bounces off the bed, shedding his clothes quicker than you’ve ever seen him before. His cock bounces to attention as it finally has the chance to breathe, its tip already pink with arousal.

Grabbing the hem of your t-shirt, Sunghoon whisks it off your body along with your bra, leaving your tits on full display for Jaeyun to gawk at, licking his lips as he smiles widely. “Take her bottoms off.” 

Jaeyun nods, his eyes dark with desire. Together, they begin to undress you, their hands working in unison to remove your clothes with a mixture of urgency and reverence. Each touch, each kiss, ignites your skin, making you feel worshipped and adored.

As your clothes fall away, Jaeyun’s hands move to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples while Sunghoon’s mouth patterns kisses into your shouldblade. You arch into their touch, your body trembling with anticipation, your glistening cunt dripping onto the sheets.

Jaeyun lays down, eagerly awaiting your heat atop of his face, tongue already sticking out in preparation. He looks so much like a puppy waiting for his treat that you can’t help but pout and smile fondly at him. You bring your aching arms down and manouvre yourself into position, hovering above him. 

“If you want to stop at any point, baby doll, you just tap my leg, yeah?” you smile down at him in gratitude, even if it wasn’t his idea. He hardly registers your words and nods absentmindedly, too busy staring at your folds and thinking about that first sweet taste.

The moment your thighs encase his head, he eagerly latches onto your core, his tongue delving into your folds with fervour. He grips your thighs as he gets to work, sucking and licking you like a man starved of his favourite meal.

Sunghoon’s hands remain on your breasts, squeezing and kneading, his fingers pinching your nipples each time you move your hips, trying to match some sort of rhythm. The dual sensations make you moan, your body is ignited with sensations from all over. Jaeyun’s tongue works expertly, exploring every inch of your heat, while Sunghoon’s touch heightens your pleasure.

Sunghoon’s lips find your neck again, leaving a trail of wet kisses. “Good girl,” he whispers, his voice dripping with approval. “Feel how much he loves pleasing you. You deserve all this attention, baby.”

Your hands grip the headboard for support as you move against Jaeyun’s mouth, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements. The room fills with the sounds of your moans, Jaeyun’s eager licks, and Sunghoon’s whispered praises.

Sunghoon retracts from you, allowing Jaeyun to indulge in his own devices as he strips down, his cock springing into action, already leaking at the sight of you getting lost in pleasure. It’s strange to see you from this angle, usually viewing your contorted face through his lashes as he looks up at you.

Pumping his cock with his right hand, Jaeyun’s jaw slackens as he relieves himself, momentarily losing focus on you, much to Sunghoon’s disapproval. “Jaeyun, if I see you touch your cock one more time, I’m going to chop it off,” he says harshly, leaving no room for argument. “This is for Y/N, not your selfish needs.”

Jaeyun immediately halts his movements, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and obedience. He quickly shifts his attention back to you, his hands returning to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he resumes his dedicated task of pleasuring you. His tongue works with renewed eagerness, each flick and nibble driving you closer to the edge.

Sunghoon's eyes darken with lust as he watches the scene before him. He steps closer, his cock inches from your face. The sight of his rigid length, combined with Jaeyun’s relentless tongue, sends a new wave of desire coursing through you. You can't help but lean forward, your lips parting as you take him into your mouth.

A low groan escapes Sunghoon's lips as you wrap your tongue around him, the salty taste of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva. He threads his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements as you take him deeper, your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.

“That's it, baby,” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. “Show me how much you want this.”

With Jaeyun’s mouth still working wonders between your legs and Sunghoon’s cock filling your mouth, you're completely overwhelmed by the sensations. Every nerve in your body feels alive, every touch magnified by the intensity of the moment.

Sunghoon’s grip tightens in your hair as he begins to thrust, his hips rocking in time with your movements. You moan around him, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. The room is filled with the sounds of pleasure: your muffled moans, Jaeyun’s eager slurps, and Sunghoon’s low, primal groans.

Jaeyun's tongue delves deeper, his pace quickening as he feels you nearing the edge again. He wants to push you over, to make you shatter with pleasure. You grind against his face, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

"Are you close, baby?" Sunghoon's voice, strained with desire, cuts through the air, the sight of your cheeks hollowed and tears glistening in your eyes only intensifies his urgency.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

Sunghoon hears two mewling responses, surprising him. Looking down at Jaeyun’s cock, he sees it jumping in need, ready to explode at any moment. He can’t reprimand him considering your pussy does the same to him, bringing him to the brink of busting a nut, although, never has it been free-handed.

With a swift motion, Sunghoon pulls you off his cock, wiping away the mess around your mouth before offering you his thumb to suck on. "Let it go, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice laced with need.

Despite Sunghoon stopping the abuse of your throat, Jaeyun redoubles his efforts, his tongue working tirelessly to bring you to the peak of pleasure. He can feel your body tensing, the telltale signs of your impending orgasm driving him to push harder. His nose rubs your clit as he works your hips to move faster, each time it hits, your whine out.

The sensations overwhelm you as you teeter on the brink, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. But Sunghoon's soft words and Jaeyun's skilled tongue prove to be too much, and with a final, desperate cry, you shatter into a million pieces, your release washing over you in a tidal wave of pleasure.

As waves of ecstasy ripple through your body, you cling onto Sunghoon’s waist, gripping so tight that your knuckles turn white. Your muscles contract involuntarily as you ride out the intense pleasure. Sunghoon's grip on your hair tightens as he watches you unravel,  satisfaction evident in his eyes. He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans of ecstasy as you come down from your high.

Jaeyun continues to lap at your sensitive folds, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes as he savours the taste of your release. His own arousal pulses through him and as he unlatches his mouth, he groans out, coming undone on his stomach completely hands-free, his cock dancing of its own accord.

You feel some of his cum hit your ass, his load shooting high up his body, causing you to peel away from Sunghoon and turn your head to look. It’s a beautiful sight, the white painting his toned tummy as his dick pulses in the aftermath. 

Sunghoon watches with a smirk, his own arousal fighting against the erotic display before him. As you climb off, he reaches out to stroke Jaeyun's cheek, his touch gentle and affectionate. "Well done, Jaeyun," he murmurs, his voice filled with pride.

As Jaeyun's climax subsides, he sinks into the bed, his cock flushed with exertion. You reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair in a gesture of comfort and affection. The touches from both you and Sunghoon are more than he could ever ask for, the attention and affection he is receiving is beyond his wildest dreams. 

With a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks, Jaeyun turns to you, his voice slightly hoarse from his earlier moans. "Sorry about that," he mumbles, his eyes betraying his embarrassment. "I couldn't help myself."

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. "How about you make it up to her and help me clean her up?" he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Jaeyun gets up and wipes his tummy with some tissues from the box at the side of your bed before making his way over to you, peeling some more tissues to wipe you down. But Sunghoon stops him, shaking his head.

You watch with curiosity as they exchange silent words, a private conversation unfolding between them. As you lay back, anticipation tingles through your body, wondering what their next move will be.

Their synchronised actions take you by surprise as both boys wear smug smiles, their eyes alight with mischief as they slide down the bed, positioning themselves between your thighs with confident ease.

“What are yo- Oh fuck,” you moan out loudly, legs instinctively spreading wider.

Your breath catches in your throat as their tongues begin to trace hot stripes up the cum-covered folds of your pussy. Their mouths work in perfect harmony, their tongues intertwining in a tantalizing dance, as they meticulously clean you up. Each stroke of their tongues sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you trembling and gasping for more, lost in the dizzying sensation of their dual ministrations. 

You arch your back, moaning in ecstasy as they skillfully coax another wave of arousal from deep within you. Their combined efforts leave you teetering on the edge of bliss, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their dual assault.

Sunghoon's nose brushes against Jaeyun's as they share a knowing smile, their shared goal evident in the way they work together to pleasure you. Their synchronised movements create a rhythm that mirrors the pounding of your heart, each flick of their tongues sending you soaring higher and higher towards the pinnacle of pleasure.

You don’t know how you got lucky enough to have two eager-to-please dolls swimming around in your cunt, but you need to thank whoever let you be born in this lifetime to experience it.

Unable to hold back any longer, you surrender to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, your second orgasm crashing over you. Your cries of rapture fill the room as you ride the pleasure, your body trembling in their grasp as they continue to worship you with their mouths.

So much for cleaning up.

Your chest is tight as you fight for breath, your climax so overwhelming it winded you. Sunghoon notices you struggle and pulls you up from the lying position. “Sit here for me, baby girl,” he whispers, kissing you long enough that some of your essence transfers from his lips to yours.

Reaching over, he picks up the water he brought in earlier, bringing it to your lips. “Drink some. We aren’t done with you yet.”

Your hands tremble slightly as you take the glass from him, grateful for the cool relief it offers. You take a few sips, letting the water soothe your parched throat as you try to steady your breathing. Jaeyun holds the cup with you as he sees you struggle, his touch is gentle as he supports you, his concern evident in the way he watches you with tender eyes.

Once you've had your fill, he sets the glass aside and pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses soft kisses to your forehead. "Are you okay, Y/N?" he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nod weakly, leaning into his embrace as you take comfort in his warmth. Despite the intensity of your climax, you feel safe and loved in his arms, just as you always do.

“Should we stop? Y/N looks pretty exhausted,” Jaeyun looks to his friend, seeking guidance from him. Jaeyun isn’t one to go rough so he isn’t used to you looking so dishevelled and out of it. 

You’re just glad he didn’t witness you at the merciless hands of Heeseung.

Sunghoon shakes his head, “She’s a tough girl,” he begins, stroking your cheek and you nuzzle into his touch. “Plus, she’s never satisfied until that pretty little cunt is being filled with cock, isn’t that right baby?”  

You feel a blush spread across your cheeks at Sunghoon's words, but you can't deny the truth in them. Despite your exhaustion, there's a part of you that still craves more, that yearns for the feeling of being completely filled and consumed by pleasure.

Nodding slightly, you meet Sunghoon's gaze with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. "Yes," you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you, Sunghoon. I want both of you."

Sunghoon's eyes darken with desire at your words, his hands sliding down to grasp your hips possessively. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "We'll take care of you, baby. Just let us know if it's too much."

With a silent understanding of your needs and his concerns lightened slightly thanks to your words, Jaeyun moves to sit beside you, his eyes filled with longing as he watches Sunghoon's hands roam your body. You can feel the heat between the three of you, the anticipation building as you prepare for what's to come next.

“I want you on all fours for me, baby girl,” Sunghoon’s tone is back to his commanding self, taking charge of the situation once he knows you can handle more. 

Jaeyun pouts, looking at him in confusion, “I should get to go first, I’m her boyfriend after all.”

Scoffing, Sunghoon shakes his head definitely, “Not a chance in hell, Jaeyun. You’ve had her for three months, It’s my turn.”

Sunghoon's words hang heavy in the air, a clear declaration of his intent. Jaeyun's expression shifts from confusion to a mix of disappointment and frustration. He opens his mouth to argue, but Sunghoon cuts him off with a stern look.

"No, Jaeyun," Sunghoon says firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you what's going to fucking happen." That dominating side of Sunghoon still rearing its head when faced with protest

Jaeyun's shoulders tense at the command, a ripple of frustration evident in his expression. Yet, beneath the surface, there's a hint of resignation, a recognition of Sunghoon's authority at this moment. With a heavy sigh, he acquiesces, albeit reluctantly.

You catch the glint of disappointment in Jaeyun's eyes and offer him a reassuring smile. "Your turn will come, baby doll. Just be patient with us," you say, your voice soft and comforting. "Be good for me and Sunghoon, yeah?"

There's a warmth in your tone that Jaeyun finds hard to resist. He nods in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his lingering disappointment.

"Yeah, okay," he murmurs, his words murmuring behind his pout. "I'll be good."

Sunghoon nods in acknowledgement, his attention already focused on you. He gestures for you to move into position, his eyes burning with desire as he watches you comply. His stare exudes a desire that sends shivers up the back of your neck, eagerness running through your veins as you prepare to be filled with his cock. 

The familiar ache of longing surges within you as Sunghoon positions himself, the tip of his cock teasingly brushing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost unbearable, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation as you await the blissful sensation of being joined with him.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, Sunghoon enters you, his length filling you completely as you gasp in pleasure. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you, ignites a fire within you, eliciting a high-pitched whine from your mouth. Your nails dig into the sheets as you arch your back, welcoming him deeper into your warmth.

Sunghoon's movements are controlled yet powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as he sets a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

Jaeyun watches with a mixture of longing and admiration, his own desire evident in the way he bites his lip, his gaze fixed on the intimate act before him. Though he may not be participating at this moment, the sight of you and Sunghoon together fills him with a sense of fulfilment and arousal.

He starts to pump his cock slowly, rubbing his thumb over the slit in his bell, pressing down hard as he watches you get railed by the tall doll.

You see Jaeyun struggling, knowing that he wants nothing more than to be inside of you, his hand only giving him some relief but not anything like what he wants. As Sunghoon piledrives into you, balls slapping against your skin and hands gripped tightly into your hips, you place your hand over his cock, replacing his as you kiss his tip, spilling some of your warm spit onto it.

“You’re being so patient, baby doll.” you gasp between thrusts as Sunghoon bucks his hips faster, the bed moving below you and the headboard hitting the wall. You stroke his cock, trying to match the pace that Sunghoon has set. 

Jaeyun leans into your touch, his body trembling with anticipation as he surrenders to the sensations washing over him.  You look so beautiful with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, lost in your own desires while still trying to fulfil his.

“Suck it, baby girl, give your precious puppy the attention he wants,” Sunghoon’s tone is laced with mocking, eluding to the fact that you will always cater to Jaeyun even when he has done nothing to deserve it.

You don’t need to be told twice before your mouth is stuffed with your boyfriend’s length. You slurp him up with ease, the familiar taste of his faux skin making your pussy clench around Sunghoon; the sensation causes his cock to graze your walls so deliciously that you can’t help but moan in pleasure around Jaeyun.

You are so overwhelmed by all the emotions you are experiencing that your body surrenders to them both, letting them have their way with you in any way they please.

For Sunghoon, he relentlessly fucks into you, feeling his entire cock in your stomach. And for Jaeyun, he is holding your head and thrusting into you in time with the other doll, both of their cocks penetrating you so deep you’re sure if this was a hentai, their cocks would be kissing at the midway point.

Jaeyun looks up at Sunghoon and sees how concentrated he looks, his features echoing the power and determination of each thrust. He wonders if Sunghoon is so focused on you that he is forgetting himself in this situation.

Reaching over, Jaeyun cradles Sunghoon’s cheek, dragging him out of his concentration to look at him with bewilderment. But that look doesn’t deter Jaeyun, instead, he brings him closer to him and presses his lips to the shocked raven-haired boy.

As their lips meet in a tender kiss, the room seems to hold its breath, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Sunghoon's initial shock gives way to a sense of warmth and acceptance, his body melting into Jaeyun's embrace as he returns the sweet kiss.

In that moment, all pretence falls away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection between them. It's a gesture of solidarity, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that binds them together, regardless of the circumstances.

As they break apart, their eyes meet, a silent understanding passing between them. Sunghoon's heart swells with gratitude for the newfound sense of closeness blossoming between them. He gets why you dote on Jaeyun so much more than he ever did.

However, with the moment happening above you, you’ve been left to fend for yourself, rocking yourself between impaling on Sunghoon’s cock and deepthroating Jaeyun. You don’t mind putting the work in, especially if it gives Sunghoon and Jaeyun a chance to at least start to understand that sharing you could also open the possibility of sharing one another.

You don’t know how their dynamic will blossom but that’s part of the fun of it all, it’s something you can all work through together once you figure out a way to get Heeseung’s blessing.

Sunghoon's gaze is filled with admiration as he watches you, his lips curling into a wicked smile at the sight of your desperate efforts to please them both. It's a heady rush, knowing that you're willing to go to such lengths for their pleasure, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through him.

As you continue to fuck onto him with determination, Sunghoon's hands roam over your body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever it lands. He revels in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, the sensation driving him wild with need.

“Flip over for me, baby girl.” Sunghoon commands, slapping your ass to motion you on your back.

Obliging, you pop off Jaeyun’s cock and roll over, legs spread widely in the air as you pirouette on Sunghoon, his shaft never leaving you. The newfound angle just makes it easier to thrust into you, helping you reach that pinnacle peak of pleasure once again.

Jaeyun watches him take you roughly, too roughly for his taste because he can see the bruises forming over your gorgeous body. Jaeyun's concern for your well-being is evident in his eyes, his brow furrowing with worry as he watches Sunghoon's rough handling. Despite his reservations, he trusts Sunghoon to know your limits better than anyone, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to intervene.

"Sunghoon, please," Jaeyun implores, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Just... take it easy on her."

Sunghoon's laughter fills the room, the sound mixing with the symphony of moans and gasps as he continues to pound into you with relentless force. “Jaeyun, listen to her, she fucking loves it.” He presses down on your stomach hard, feeling himself deep inside you, “Tell him how much you love it.”

“I love it, I love it so much,” you whimper out, body squirming as it becomes overrun with a sudden urge to release, your walls clamping down on Sunghoon. 

Jaeyun's expression softens as he watches the interplay between you and Sunghoon. Despite his lingering concerns, he knows that Sunghoon cares for you deeply, and he can see the mutual trust and understanding that exists between you.

Still, he can't shake the feeling that you could use some extra tenderness and care, especially with the intensity of Sunghoon's actions. With a determined expression, he moves closer to the two of you, his hands gentle as he traces soothing circles over your skin, massaging your skin softly as if to ease the tension and forming bruises on your skin.

It’s all too much, the juxtaposition between gentle and rough is sending your mind into a tizzy and before you know it, you’re coming undone over Sunghoon’s cock. “I’m cumming! I’m fucking cumming!” you exclaim through laboured breaths, gasping out.

“I know you are, baby girl, cum all over my cock like a good girl, show Jaeyun what a good pup looks like.”

Sunghoon's thrusts grow more urgent, his movements fueled by the primal need for release. His guttural moans fill the room, mingling with your own cries of pleasure as you both approach the pinnacle of your passion together.

With a final, desperate thrust, Sunghoon pulls out and releases his load onto your stomach, his essence painting you like a canvas as he marks his territory. There's a possessiveness in his actions, an unspoken claim over you that speaks volumes despite the supposed arrangement of sharing, but he wants Jaeyun to see you covered in his seed, how your body is glistening because of him.

You only add to his ego as you cry out, wishing he was filling you up instead. Your pussy craves cum, it needs to be stuffed and Sunghoon just denied you the simple pleasure. “Please,” you plead, not saying exactly what you want, but rather your actions speak as your fingers scoop some of the cum on your tummy and start to finger it into you.

Jaeyun can hardly tear his eyes away from the erotic scene before him, his own arousal reaching new heights as he watches you, desperate and hungry for more. 

“Come on, give her what she wants, Jaeyun,” Sunghoon begins, moving to the side to let Jaeyun take over, “Fill that pretty pussy up with your cum. Be a good boy.” 

A shiver runs over Jaeyun’s body and his cock leaks at Sunghoon’s words, a desperate whimper escaping his throat as he trembles in anticipation. He’s been watching Sunghoon manhandle you so long that he’s scared about hurting you, your cunt is too sensitive to take him.

Opening your eyes, you see Jaeyun holding his cock with contemplation clouding his eyes. You sit up on your elbows, using whatever energy you have left and tilt your head. “Go as hard or fast as you want, baby doll, I can take it,” you assure him, beckoning him closer for a kiss.

Your words ignite a fire within Jaeyun, his desire overcoming his hesitation as he moves closer to you, his cock throbbing with need. He leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his hands trembling with anticipation as he positions himself between your legs.

With renewed confidence, Jaeyun guides his cock into your heat, his breath catching in his throat as he pushes inside. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock enveloped in the warmth and tightness of your slick walls, driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

You moan into his mouth, encouraging him to go harder, faster, as you eagerly welcome him into your depths. Jaeyun's movements become more assertive, his hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency as he strives to give you the pleasure you deserve.

Sunghoon watches with rapt attention, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he observes Jaeyun messily bucking his hips into you, still cautious, but going at a speed that is perfect for you both. 

He can see the pleasure written all over your face, your moans filling the room as Jaeyun drives you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Sunghoon's smirk widens as he takes in the scene before him, revelling in the shared pleasure between you and Jaeyun.

With each thrust, Jaeyun's cock plunges deeper into you, eliciting a chorus of gasps and moans from both of you. Sunghoon's own arousal surges at the sight, his cock twitching with anticipation as he watches you both lose yourselves in the heat of the moment.

For Sunghoon, there's a sense of satisfaction in seeing Jaeyun take control, knowing that he's capable of pleasuring you just as effectively as he can. He understands that Jaeyun likes to be coddled and you also like to coddle him, but in situations like these, your satisfaction is the utmost importance.

If Sunghoon can’t leave with you, he a least wants to make sure you’re being fucked right.

As Jaeyun continues to thrust into you, Sunghoon leans in closer, his voice a low growl of desire. "That's it, Jaeyun. Show her how good you can make her feel," he murmurs, his words fueling Jaeyun's passion even further.

Jaeyun continues to thrust into you with growing confidence and Sunghoon's attention shifts to your stomach, where his cum still glistens on your skin like a badge of ownership. With a hungry look in his eyes, he dips down, his tongue trailing along your abdomen as he licks up his own essence.

You let out a gasp of surprise at the sensation, the warmth of his tongue sending shivers down your spine. Sunghoon's movements are deliberate and sensual, his tongue dancing across your skin as he savours the taste of himself mingled with your arousal still lingering in his mouth.

Jaeyun's thrusts falter for a moment as he watches Sunghoon's intimate ministrations, a flush spreading across his cheeks at the sight. But the sight of you writhing beneath them, lost in pleasure, reignites his passion, and he resumes his rhythm with renewed vigour.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon laps up his cum from your stomach with increasing urgency, each lick more fervent than the last. His movements are messy, driven by the desire to taste every last drop of himself mingled with your sweat and arousal. He's lost in the moment, completely consumed by the act of claiming you in this intimate way.

As he finishes, your stomach now clean, Sunghoon looks up at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes, his desire burning brightly. "Open your mouth," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

Your mind is hazy, overwhelmed by the sensations and unable to fully process his command. Sensing your confusion, Sunghoon's hand slides down your body, his fingers finding your clit and massaging it with expert precision. Your jaw slackens, a moan escaping your lips as you involuntarily obey his command, your mouth opening in response to the pleasure.

Taking advantage of your open mouth, Sunghoon leans in and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth to share the mingled tastes of his cum and your arousal. The kiss is deep and demanding, a testament to the intensity of his desire for you.

Jaeyun, not wanting to be left out, quickens his pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he chases his own release. He groans into your ear, the sound vibrating through your body and heightening your pleasure.

Sunghoon finally pulls back from the kiss, his lips lingering close to yours. "That's it, baby girl," he whispers, his voice a seductive growl. "Take everything we give you."

You nod weakly, your body trembling with anticipation and need. The combined sensations of Jaeyun's cock driving into you and Sunghoon's commanding presence are almost too much to bear. You feel yourself hurtling toward another climax, your body tightening in anticipation.

Sensing your nearing orgasm, Jaeyun adjusts his angle, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Sunghoon, not wanting to miss a moment, resumes his attention on your clit, his fingers working in tandem with Jaeyun's movements.

"Cum for us, Y/N," Sunghoon demands, his voice a low growl. "Show us how much you love being filled."

Your body obeys, your orgasm crashing over you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You cry out their names, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations. Your walls tighten around Jaeyun, triggering his own release as he spills into you with a loud groan.

Sunghoon watches with satisfaction, a proud smirk on his lips as he sees you both reach your peak. "Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers still gently stroking your clit as you come down from your high. "That's exactly what we wanted."

As you tremble in the aftermath of your intense orgasm, Jaeyun's moans in ragged gasps, his release still coursing through him. He slowly pulls out, his cum beginning to seep out of you. Without missing a beat, he uses his fingers to gently push his seed back inside, wanting to ensure you remain filled with him, just like you want.

Sunghoon watches Jaeyun's actions with a pleased smile, appreciating his attentiveness. "Good job, Jaeyun," he praises, his voice low and approving. "Now, go grab the water again. Our girl needs to stay hydrated."

Jaeyun nods, quickly getting up to retrieve the glass of water from the bedside table. As he does, Sunghoon turns his full attention back to you, his touch becoming tender and caring. He gently strokes your hair and brushes a few strands away from your face, his eyes softening with concern.

"How are you feeling, baby girl?" Sunghoon asks, his tone gentle, a stark contrast to his earlier intensity.

You manage a weak smile, your body still buzzing from the dual sensations of pleasure and exertion. "I’m...good," you breathe out, leaning into his touch.

Sunghoon's lips curve into a warm smile. "Good girl," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Just relax. We’ll take care of you." He has always been good at aftercare, even when he was shut off from his emotions, it’s just who he is. He might fuck you within an inch of your life, but he will make sure to revive you after.

Jaeyun returns with the water, handing the glass to Sunghoon who carefully brings it to your lips. "Drink up," he instructs softly, his eyes locked on yours to ensure you’re okay.

You take small sips, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Once you’ve had your fill, Sunghoon sets the glass aside and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close as Jaeyun takes a seat beside you, his hand resting on your thigh in a comforting gesture.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice filled with gratitude.

Jaeyun nods, his eyes filled with affection. "Just rest for now. We’ve got you."

You nod, allowing yourself to relax fully between them, feeling safe and cherished. The intensity of the moment has passed, leaving behind a comforting warmth that envelops all three of you. You close your eyes, a contented smile on your lips, knowing that no matter what, they will always be there to care for you.

As long as you can convince a certain Prince of Hell.

_____

Feeling a comforting weight on your chest, you pry your eyes open to find Jaeyun's head nestled there, his legs entwined around your waist. No - Sunghoon’s legs wrapped around you. He lies beneath you, his shoulder supporting your head, his hand reaching around your neck to scratch Jaeyun's hair.

You can’t believe that this is your life right now, that you could truly be this happy every day for the rest of time. The warmth of their bodies, the thump of your heart echoing your happiness, and the tender connection between all three of you feels like a dream you never want to wake from. Every worry and stress melts away, replaced by a profound sense of contentment. In this moment, you know that this is where you belong, wrapped in the embrace of those you love most.

But as nice as this is, as easy as it is to get lost in their embrace, you know there's still one obstacle in your way to achieving this paradise forever.

Heeseung.

If he doesn’t let Sunghoon go, there's no point in getting your hopes up. This bliss you've found yourself in can be ripped away in an instant if he says no. However, you believe you've got an offer he can’t refuse. 

Sunghoon notices you stirring and presses his lips atop your head, kissing your crown tenderly. “Good morning, baby girl,” he whispers with such softness that it almost blends with the morning air.

Jaeyun looks up with his big eyes and smiles, then kisses a heart pattern on your chest, a ritual he has performed countless times since becoming yours. It’s his unique way of saying good morning and expressing his affection.

You kiss Jaeyun first, your lips lingering as you savour the softness of his petal-like lips. In all your life, you don’t think you will ever tire of the way his plump mouth encloses yours, each kiss a reminder of the deep connection you share.

Turning your head slightly, you find Sunghoon's eyes already gazing at you with a mix of adoration and warmth. You lean in and kiss him next, your lips meeting his in a tender embrace. His kiss is different from Jaeyun’s - firmer, yet filled with the same depth of love. Sunghoon's hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as your mouths move in perfect harmony.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaeyun asks, gently rubbing your arm as you pull away from his best friend.

You nod, sitting up between them as you all shuffle to find comfortable positions. Sunghoon keeps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. There's a flicker of hurt in Jaeyun’s eyes as he watches the love of his life being embraced by someone else, a reminder that while sex might be easy to share, morning cuddles and other gestures of affection are something he'll need time to get used to.

“Yeah, it was amazing,” you say, smiling between both of them, grateful for the peaceful slumber and the two men who left you blissfully exhausted.

Jaeyun smiles warmly, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “You look so pretty right now,” he whispers, a daily ritual of his to compliment you in the morning, even when your hair is tousled and some mascara smudges remain from the night before.

Kissing your neck, Sunghoon nods in agreement, “Always.”

God, you could get used to this. But to get used to this, you have to have it.

“I’m going to see if Soonyeol wants to make breakfast,” you say, using it as an excuse to leave the bed, knowing you can’t let them catch onto your true intentions. “If you guys stay here, I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”

“We can make yo-”

“No, no. I want to spend some time with her, you know. She’s important to you, and I haven’t spoken to her much,” you interject with a touch of urgency in your voice, masking the true purpose behind your words. It’s a blatant lie, but the underlying intention is genuine; you just won’t act on it at this moment.

Slipping from their grip, you adorn Jaeyun’s t-shirt and Sunghoon's boxers that were hastily discarded last night, tying your hair up, and focus on getting what you want, on what is best for everyone.

_____

Standing apprehensively on the other side of the door, your fist hovers, refusing to knock. The heavy wooden door feels like a barrier not just to Heeseung but to the future you desperately want to secure. Your heart races, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You’re scared, you’ll admit that—no amount of time or mental preparation could make this any less nerve-wracking. Every possible outcome runs through your mind, amplifying your anxiety.

But for Sunghoon, for you and Jaeyun, you’ll suck it up like you always do. You straighten your shoulders and square your jaw, determination settling over your features. Yes, you know what Heeseung can do and what he will ask for, but you can’t let him see any signs of weakness within you.

The sound of your knuckles against the wood echoes in the hallway, and you feel the weight of each passing second. 

“What?” Heeseung's voice pierces through the door, clearly annoyed by the disturbance; you would be too if someone knocked on your door at 6 am, regardless of whether you slept.

Taking a deep breath, you steady your nerves, feeling the weight of your decision. Despite the turmoil in your mind, you nod to yourself, trying to convince the part of you that's crying out, saying this is a bad idea. But determination drives you forward, pushing aside doubts as you prepare to face whatever comes next.

The door creaks slightly as it opens, revealing Heeseung sitting up against the headboard, the sheets tangled around him as though he had a restless night's sleep. The dishevelled state of the room hints that he had company, yet Soonyeol is nowhere in sight; but when he stands up and his naked form reaches your eyes, you can picture everything that went on; or maybe it’s flashbacks to your own rendezvous with the prince. Either way, you feel a rush of heat pooling between your thighs, your pussy weeping instinctively to the raw allure of his present state.

No matter how much you convince yourself that Heeseung has no hold over you anymore, your body proves you to be a liar.

“My pretty girl. Have you come to take me up on the offer finally?” Heeseung's voice carries a hint of amusement as he stares you down, a wicked grin painting his features. Despite the casualness of his words, there's an intensity in his gaze that sends a thrill down your spine. Even as he reaches to grab his boxers, his eyes never leave yours, holding you captive in their dark depths. You're ashamed to admit that your eyes don’t even meet his as you gawk at his delicious length, your body betraying your desire with each passing moment.

Heeseung notices your lustful gaze, a smirk playing on his lips as he pumps his cock gently. “So you came for this? I suppose I should have known Jaeyun could never satisfy you,” he says, his voice dripping with smugness as he voices his thoughts. His hand squeezes just before the bell of his cock, emphasising his arousal. “How do you want to take it? On your back or on your knees?”

On your ba-

“No. I didn’t come here for that,” you interject firmly, clamping down on the lascivious thoughts swirling in your head. As easy as it would be to surrender to the temptation, you know in your heart that giving in to him is the last thing you should do, no matter how much your body craves it. You shake off the filth from the crevices of your brain, steeling yourself against the allure of his naked form. The primal urge to submit to him lingers, a constant battle against the rational part of your mind that screams for restraint.

You wonder if it’s a general Prince of Hell thing or a Beelzebub thing that every time you come within 5 feet of him, you’re ready to open every hole you have. The thought makes you shiver, a mix of desire and frustration coursing through your veins as you struggle to maintain control.

Heeseung laughs darkly, withdrawing his hand from his shaft and returning to his original task of putting on his boxers. You feel a twinge of disappointment as he packs away his 7-inch friend, but you’re also relieved that you can now concentrate on the matter you came here for.

“So what did you come here for?” he asks, his voice now void of the earlier taunts, as he walks around the end of his bed to stand a meter from you. His demeanour shifts, becoming more attentive and serious, knowing that this is probably worth his time.

“I have a counteroffer,” you proclaim, the tremble in your voice betraying the weight of your proposition.

Heeseung smirks, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Oh? And what’s that, baby?”

“I want you to let Sunghoon leave with me and Jaeyun today,” you declare, the words hanging in the air as you wait for his response, your heart pounding in your chest.

Heeseung's smirk widens into a mocking laugh, disbelief evident in his expression. The sound echoes in the room, taunting you as if your request is nothing more than a joke. His amusement seems to fill the space, making the air feel heavier with each passing moment.

But you stand your ground, refusing to back down despite his dismissive reaction. Every fibre of your being is focused on this moment, on this plea that could change everything. Though uncertainty gnaws at you, you push it aside, determined to see this through. 

"I'm serious," you insist, your voice firm despite the ripple of anxiety that lingers beneath the surface. Your words twirl in the air, a silent challenge to his disbelief.

Heeseung's laughter fades, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze as he regards you. The intensity of his stare feels like a physical weight, bearing down on you as if searching for any hint of weakness. You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to falter under the pressure.

“I already gave you Jaeyun, baby. I hope you’re not taking my kindness for granted?” Heeseung's voice carries a note of warning, his words a reminder of the favour he believes he's already bestowed upon you.

You feel a chill run down your spine at his tone, a subtle threat lingering in the room. It's a stark reminder of the power he holds over you, a reminder that even in this moment of negotiation, you are still at his mercy.

Clearing your throat, you nod, meeting Heeseung's gaze with sincerity. “I don’t take it for granted,” you begin, your voice steady despite the nerves, “You know I appreciate it.” 

It can never hurt to suck up to a demon and agree with him when you need something from him.

Sucking his teeth, Heeseung hums in acknowledgement of your statement, clearly satisfied with your rebuttal. It's a small concession, but it feels like a victory nonetheless. You exhale slowly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, but it only lasts a moment because his eyes are back to swirling that red ocean in his stare. He knows now that you didn’t come here empty-handed.

However, before he asks you the inevitable question, he wants to settle his curiosity. “Why Sunghoon when you could stay here and have all of us? You had so much fun here, didn’t you?”

You did, you had the most fun you’ve had your whole life, but that was also when you had no real life back in the city. Now you have Jaeyun with you, and things are different. You wake up happy and you suddenly love the life around you because Jaeyun has a way of painting everything golden even when the skies are grey.

“Because this isn’t about me, this is about Sunghoon,” you admit, sensing Heeseung's curiosity. He gestures for you to explain your thoughts, clearly amused by your confession. “I just think, respectfully to Soonyeol, that he just isn’t… thriving here.”

"You mean because Soonyeol isn't fucking him like a banshee?" Heeseung interjects, his tone laced with sarcasm as he cuts straight to the point.

You flinch at his blunt words, a mixture of shock and discomfort washing over you. Heeseung's crude remark hits a nerve, stirring a mix of emotions within you. 

Sure, that is part of the reasoning in some sense. Sunghoon enjoys having sex, that much is obvious considering he has fucked you in almost every available room in this place, against every nook and cranny he could find, and in every which position he could bend you. Yet, it’s more than that.

He needs to explore his newly found emotions in an environment that will help him express his innermost thoughts and feelings. In this mansion with the same people and the same routine, it can be damaging to some people, and clearly, it is to him. He’s also incredibly lonely, and in a house with three other bodies shouldn’t be the case.

Heeseung’s sigh draws your attention, prompting you to lift your eyes to meet his. “Tell me something, and please, for the love of Lucifer, engage that stupid little brain of yours for once,” he says with a sly grin, though mock disappointment flickers in his gaze. 

Despite his harshness, you feel yourself strangely pulled to him, a tinge of pleasure building within. You blame Jongseong and his punishments for awakening this new love for degradation. 

“Don’t you think it’s irresponsible to let a demon loose in the wild? He is evil and destructive, I mean, you heard how he defied Dis because he hated being told what to do. What if you suffer the same fate, baby?” He feigns concern, using his warped words to make you think differently about Sunghoon and just be trapped in this house with him. 

You’ve caught onto his game and you refuse to play.

“Sunghoon is dif-”

“Don’t say he is different, Y/N. Every red-horned prick is the same, trust me, I am one,” Heeseung scoffs, his tone filled with bitter amusement at your innocent viewpoint on the matter. “We are monstrous and manipulative, it’s our job, and as far as I know, Sunghoon was one of the best. Did he ever tell you about the time he skinned that poor woman alive? Right down to her bones, and all he was ordered to do was snap her neck.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of Heeseung's revelation. You feel a chill run down your spine at the gruesome image he paints, the reality of Sunghoon's past deeds hitting you like a punch to the gut. 

But you know that whoever that was, wasn’t the Sunghoon you saw last night. He did what he had to in order to survive hell’s grip. You know his past is never going to be pretty, and you understand that. Whatever he’s done, whoever he has hurt, it’s in the past, and he's seeking redemption. And if he can't find it from God, he can get it from you.

Crossing your arms, you shift your body language as you guard yourself from Heeseung’s foul plays. “If he is such a threat to humans and as you call it ‘evil and destructive’, why keep him around Soonyeol?”

Heeseung doesn’t expect you to throw such a question at him, his face falling. “Because I can kill him if I need to and he knows that,” he explains, eyes secretly warning you to not push him too far. “But you, precious little you, you wouldn’t hurt one of my flies, he could take advantage of that.” he feigns sincerity, holding a hand over his nonexistent heart.

He speaks about Sunghoon being a manipulator but you’re staring at the master. Heeseung is using condescending tones and sympathetic body language to get you to trust him, a classic Beelzebub manoeuvre.

Returning to your flat those months ago, the weight of your encounter with Heeseung heavy on your mind, you wasted no time delving into research about the demon. The mere mention of his true name sent chills down your spine, and you were determined to uncover the truth behind his dark reputation.

You learned that Beelzebub is a master manipulator, skilled in the art of gaslighting his victims. He preys on their vulnerabilities, convincing them that his offers are the only solution to their problems. With each twisted lie, he tightens his grip on their minds, rendering them helpless to resist his control.

Your knowledge might not be extensive, but you've gained insight into his tactics, leaving you feeling more prepared to confront him, even if you're relying heavily on feigned confidence. After spending two months in close quarters with him, you've gleaned enough to believe that if anyone can outmanoeuvre this Prince of Hell, it's you.

“You said you don’t break promises,” you assert, redirecting the conversation to the purpose of your visit.

“And what promise have I made to you, baby?” he questions, a smirk playing on his lips.

“None yet, but once I give you something, you have to keep your promise.”

His eyebrow arches in intrigue, his manner shifting as he leans forward, assessing you with renewed interest. “You’re going to have to offer more than just your pretty little pussy for me to grant you Sunghoon.”

Of course, you're aware that indulging his desires likely played a significant role in his decision to allow Jaeyun to accompany you home last time. You understand that it will take something substantial, something unique to you, to strike a deal with him. Sunghoon might not be Soonyeol’s top priority as of late but he still offers her something she needs and Heeseung isn’t going to let that up easily.

“My soul. Take it.”

A heavy silence settles in the air, thick with tension as you lay out your offer. Your gut churns with unease, a nagging sensation urging you to retract your proposition and flee from the impending consequences. Meanwhile, the voice of your beloved Jaeyun echoes in your mind, pleading with you to abandon the deal and escape this precarious situation with a quick "sike," finger-gunning your way out of harm's reach.

Yet, despite the turmoil raging within you, you remain resolute. You've made your decision, and you're determined to see it through, even if it means silencing Jaeyun's protests and disregarding the warnings of your own instincts. It may seem foolish to press forward, but your love for Sunghoon eclipses any doubts or fears.

For you, this is more than just a risky gamble—it's a chance to offer Sunghoon a lifeline, a path to the freedom and happiness he so desperately craves. And if you didn't seize this opportunity, if you didn't at least try to give him a shot at a better life by your side, how could you ever live with yourself?

Heeseung steps forward, his movements sleek and predatory. “You would give me your soul for a demon’s freedom? I know I fucked you good, but I didn’t know I fucked you dumb,” he taunts, his eyes gleaming with a sinister red hue as Beelzebub comes to the forefront.

A chill runs down your spine as he speaks, his mocking tone cutting through the air like a knife. You feel a knot of fear tighten in your chest, but before you can react, he flicks his finger with a casual gesture and the door behind you clicks shut, the sound echoing ominously in the silence of the room. Your heart skips a beat as panic floods your senses, realisation dawning that you're now trapped, alone with a demon whom you’ve just offered your soul.

You’ve had calmer Sundays, that’s for sure.

Your voice quivers slightly as you press forward, determination warring with the creeping sense of dread. "I'm serious. Tell me your terms. Ten years? Twenty? When will you claim it from me if I do this?" you ask, though the strength in your tone wavers as Heeseung looms closer, his presence suffocatingly familiar, much like yesterday.

A sharp, disbelieving laugh escapes Heeseung's lips, shaking his head in amusement. “Baby, you think you have it all figured out,” he mocks, stepping even closer, if that's even possible. Your instinct to create some distance is rendered powerless as you stay transfixed in place, his proximity overwhelming.

His chest presses against yours, the closeness sending a shiver down your spine as if you're seconds away from dancing a lover's tango. “I’ll tell you what will happen, and I’ll let you make the final call, since I’m in a good mood,” he adds, his voice dripping with a sinister charm.

You swallow hard, steeling yourself for whatever he's about to reveal, knowing that your fate - and Sunghoon's - hangs in the balance.

"Here's the deal," Heeseung begins, his tone laced with a predatory edge. "I'll grant Sunghoon his freedom, no strings attached to me or Soonyeol," he begins, his words initially sounding like a lifeline, but the following conditions twist your stomach into knots. "But you surrender yourself to me.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you struggle to process the weight of his demand. The tension in the air is palpable, suffocating you as you grapple with the impossible choice before you.

"Good news is, your soul stays in your body, but that body? Oh, Sweetheart, that belongs to me," Heeseung continues, his voice dripping with malevolent satisfaction.

“But-”

"Don’t fucking interrupt me," he commands, his voice lowering to a menacing octave.

Mumbling a quick apology, you bite down on your lip, forcing yourself to remain silent, lest you incur his wrath further.

Heeseung's terms hang heavy in the air, the weight of his expectations pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "You do as I say. If I say jump, you ask how high. If I say to kill someone, you do it and thank me for the opportunity. I’m not being cruel, these are my terms for everyone."

That means Soonyeol too. It makes you wonder what on earth he has made her do while she has been under his control. Perhaps that two-month trip was more sadistic than you once thought.

The reality of the situation sinks in, and you realise that agreeing to his terms means surrendering not only your freedom but your very humanity. It's a choice that no amount of love for Sunghoon can make easy.

You draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for his response. "How long for?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing deep down that the answer may haunt you for eternity.

"Forever. Even after you die, you’re mine," Heeseung replies, his tone carrying a weight of finality that sends a chill down your spine.

The reality of the situation crashes over you like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you under. The prospect of being forever tethered to Heeseung, subject to his whims and desires for all eternity, fills you with a sense of dread and despair. And yet, despite the overwhelming fear and uncertainty, there's a perverse allure to his offer. The magnetic pull he has on you, the intoxicating blend of danger and desire, whispers seductively in the depths of your mind. It's a dark and twisted fascination, one that you can't seem to shake no matter how hard you try. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you gather your courage and issue your counterproposal, determined to protect the ones you love from the potentially devastating consequences of your agreement. "If I say yes, you need to promise me that whatever you instruct me to do won’t hurt the people I love," you assert, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your request.

The audacity of your bargaining with a Prince of Hell is not lost on you. It's a bold move, one born out of desperation and fueled by a newfound determination to safeguard those closest to your heart. You can't help but marvel at your own bravery, even as uncertainty gnaws at the edges of your resolve, considering the closest you’ve seen to a haggle is two ladies trying to buy a bronze teapot on Bargain Hunt, you’d say this was a little out of your comfort zone.

Heeseung considers your proposal, his gaze flickering as he weighs the implications of your condition. A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face as he pieces your words together, “Oh… Oh, you’re good, baby,” he begins, a chuckle escaping his lips before he continues, “Asking me to not hurt your loved ones so then I can’t touch you or the two Bratz dolls. You are not as dumb as I pegged you to be earlier.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of fear and perverse satisfaction swirling in the pit of your stomach. As he leans closer, his lips dangerously close to yours, “Fucking hell, you turn me on.” You can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline at his words and the realisation that you may have just outmanoeuvred a Prince of Hell. It's a dangerous game you're playing, but at this moment, it feels like the only option you have.

“So deal?”

Jaeyun’s voice floods your ears like a bad case of tinnitus, his shrieks bouncing inside your skull. But he is not here in your presence like last time, he can’t save you from Heeseung this time.

“Deal.”

_____

You walk back into the room to find Jaeyun and Sunghoon sitting on the edge of the bed, engrossed in a heated game on Jaeyun's Switch. Jaeyun's brow is furrowed in concentration, his thumbs moving rapidly across the buttons, while Sunghoon, surprisingly adept for a first-timer, wears a smug grin.

"How are you this good?" Jaeyun mutters, frustration seeping into his voice as Sunghoon wins yet another round.

Sunghoon chuckles, his pride evident. "Beginner's luck, I guess."

Watching them, you feel a warm sense of contentment. You think about what your life will be like with the two of them. There's a simplicity to the way they interact, a normalcy that almost makes you forget the supernatural forces that bind you all together.

Jaeyun, with his easy-going nature and inherent kindness, has always been your rock. His innocence is something you cherish deeply. On the other hand, Sunghoon, with his intensity and passion, brings out a side of you that's fierce and unapologetic. The thought of balancing these two very different but complementary forces fills you with a sense of adventure and anticipation.

Should you tell them that it was Heeseung you spoke with? Sunghoon would surely know you had to make some sacrifice to get Heeseung to agree. Jaeyun doesn't know about Heeseung's true identity or the lengths you went to ensure your collective happiness. The thought of deceiving them, even for their own good, weighs heavily on your conscience.

As you step into the room, they look up, pausing their game. "Where did you go?" Sunghoon asks, his eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity. You said you were going to make breakfast with Soonyeol, but you were away for a long time, too long for that matter.

"Just a walk," you replied, climbing into the bed between them. Their warmth enveloped you from both sides, a comforting presence amidst your swirling thoughts. You savored the feeling for a moment, then turned to Sunghoon. "Are you okay with car journeys?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though your heart pounded in your chest.

"I think so," Sunghoon replied, a hint of confusion lacing his voice. "Why?"

"Because it's a long drive back to the city," you said, your voice steady despite the nervous energy bubbling inside you. What if he changed his mind and you’ve just sold your soul to Beelzebub?

Sunghoon's eyes widened as he processed your words. "You mean...?" he trailed off, disbelief and hope mingling in his expression.

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. "Yes. You're coming with us."

Sunghoon's expression morphed into one of pure elation. "How did you...? Did you speak to Heeseung?" His question hung in the air, heavy with implications.

You forced a smile, praying your lie would be convincing. "Actually, I spoke to Soonyeol. But anyway, what matters is that you're coming with us." You deflected any more questions, shaking your head to signal you didn't want to delve into the details.

Sunghoon leaned in and kissed you softly, the affection in his touch making your heart swell. His lips were tender against yours, a stark contrast to the raw intensity you often shared. It amazed you how a demon could feel so deeply that he almost seemed human.

Jaeyun, not wanting to be left out, pouted and tossed his controller aside. He scrambled over, a wide smile on his face, and wrapped his arms around both of you. "My two favourite people!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with joy as he squeezed you both tightly.

You revelled in the embrace, feeling Jaeyun's hug against your side and Sunghoon's steady warmth pressing into you. This moment, this tender connection, was everything you had fought for. 

As you lay there between them, you wondered how your life would change. The future seemed both daunting and exhilarating. You imagined the three of you navigating the complexities of your relationships, finding joy in the simple moments, and facing the inevitable challenges together. Could you balance the love and care they both needed? Would they understand the compromises you had to make to keep you all together?

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, his eyes searching for yours. "Are you sure you're okay? You really didn’t speak to Heeseung?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with concern. His worry is that you did something rash, something to put your life at risk.

You nodded, the sincerity in his gaze making your chest tighten with emotion because you know you're lying to him. “No I didn’t. I just asked Soonyeol to convince him."

Sunghoon's smile widened as he accepts your lie as the truth, and he kissed you again. Jaeyun, not to be outdone, leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek. "I'm so glad we're all going back together," he murmured.

The three of you stayed entwined for a while, the silence filled with unspoken promises and the steady rhythm of your breathing. Eventually, Sunghoon and Jaeyun begin to get up to start packing, leaving you to your thoughts.

Your life was about to become a whirlwind of new experiences, challenges, and unknowns. Yet, despite the looming uncertainty, a thrill of excitement coursed through you. Your life was about to become a living hell, but as you watched the two boys move around the room, your heart swelled with a sense of anticipation. 

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

Maybe, just maybe, it was a hell worth living for.

[neckromantics]

Can we please talk about how often vampires are seen having infatuations with the living, simply because they’re… well, living? How Astarion's vampiric nature would have him frequently mesmerized by just how alive you are??

Pt1.

(nsfw warning. oops. It's mostly fluff tho. there is kinda breathplay in this. i didn't mean to, but-)

Astarion who, smitten as he is, rests his head against your chest during one of your regular lazy morning cuddles. He’s not so covertly listening in on the pounding of your heart. Bare skin sensitive to every brush of his fingertips as he traces them up and down the softness of your side, tapping along to each solid thud as it beats away for him. You try not to squirm too much in fear of jostling him out of whatever dreamlike state he’s fallen into, but you’ve no need to worry. Your soft breathing—the subsequent rise and fall of your belly— is only lulling him further and further into that rare state of tranquility.

After a while, he’ll relocate a little further down. One pointed ear presses tight to the tender skin of your ribs as he seeks to be even closer to the sound, and this time, you can’t stop yourself from squirming. It’s his hair that does you in. The pale curls at the back of his neck are so silky soft against your flesh that it just about tickles, and the goosebumps that start to crawl their way up your arms only get worse each time he readjusts. He sounds so drowsy when he shushes your giggles, and when you insist you can’t help it, that it's his fault, he shushes you a second time. As if the sound of your laughter isn’t precious to him all on its own.

Astarion, who often finds himself with his lips to your pulse point without really knowing how he got there. You’ll be sat by the fire having idle chit-chat, and the next thing you know, he’s pulling your joined hands up toward his mouth as it’s your turn to speak. The first time it’d happened, you thought maybe he wanted a bit of a snack or something (not that he’s really ever done so without asking, first. Even though you’ve said about one thousand times that the offer is always on the table), but when you turned to glance at him, there wasn’t an ounce of hunger in those ruby eyes of his. He was listening to you as intently as always. Even nodded to encourage you when your sentence trailed off a bit in your confusion.

You’re not entirely sure he knows he’s doing it, or why he’s doing it for that matter, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

There’s a general warmth radiating from you that, despite Astarion’s best efforts in the past, he’s always been magnetized to. But here? Where his mouth stays poised? It’s a heat like nothing else. The steady pulse of blood—of life—calls out to him like a siren song, and while the hunger is there (will always be there), there is also something else. Something more, perhaps? A feeling he can’t quite put a name to. It’s a comfort, maybe. An assurance, he reasons to himself. That steady thump of life beneath his lips is proof enough that you’re still here with him.

Anyway.

Conversations continue without a hitch now-a-days, despite his voice being a little more than muffled with his lips jammed against whatever pulse point he can find. But, you don’t mind because while you can’t see him smiling, you sure can feel it.

Astarion, who gets struck with such a strange, desperate need to feel your breath that he has to lift his hand to your lips as he sinks deep into your warmth. Mouth half-open from your previous slack-jawed whining, not even a moment passes before you’re pressing sloppy, wet kisses to the cool skin he’s offered up to you, lids heavy with lust as you try and fail to keep your eyes focused on your lover. It still baffles him how you never miss a beat—not with him, anyway—not even when he’s got the entire bottom half of your face cupped beneath a firm hand.

His own mouth can't stop exploring every inch of flesh it can reach. He says your name but it sounds more like a thank you, fangs pricking against the inside of the arm you've got wrapped around his neck as your heels dig into the meat of his ass to nudge him forward still. Your fingers curl into his hair, getting a good handful that you'd never dare to pull. It's a gentle guiding that drives him mad—the way you herd him ever closer with such a tender touch—as if he isn't pinning you into the mattress with the majority of his weight already.

While his breaths are unneeded, they quickly match pace with the ones you’re puffing against his hand. Hitching into a gasp that he can’t think to contain when your moaning sends vibrations all the way up to his elbow. Your quick gulps of air stutter beneath him as the two of you get your bearings, and your next exhale is so sharp as his hips jerk against yours that it practically whistles out between the spaces of his fingers.

Astarion doesn't think he's ever heard anything more perfect in all his undeath.

(Me quietly to myself: what kind of kink is this.)

[itsswritten]

butterfly kisses

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K (honestly it's just a little drabble)

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, lots of fluff, mating frenzy

Summary: Azriel just can't get enough of your wings <3

Wings Universe - More from this world.

Azriel wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky.

He had thanked the Mother every day since the bond snapped, and even more when you accepted it. When Mor had introduced you into his life only a couple of years ago, he never imagined this would be the outcome.

Azriel vividly remembered the first night he met you. It was another gathering at Rita’s, one of the many that had unfolded, now peace settled over the land. 

Mor with playful determination had pulled you over to their table, arm looped around yours– almost in a way that said she wasn’t going to let you escape. He had noticed the faint blush that creeped up your face to your pointed ears, merely from the proximity of your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. He recalled how you offered a shy little curtsy in their presence, that had led to the whole table stifling their laughter. Rhys kindly explained that such formalities were not necessary, especially not in Rita’s of all places. Azriel did his best to contain his mirth at the display, all the while chewing the inside of his cheek to stop the chuckle leaving his lips. He truly couldn’t get over how adorable you were, he'd found himself captivated by your endearing innocence. 

And that was only the start.

Mor explained how she’d met you in town one day and had essentially thrusted her friendship onto you, and it really didn’t take long for Azriel and his family to do the same. 

You were so sweet and caring, and slotted into Azriel’s life so easily that he found it hard to remember a time when you weren’t there at all. Your kindness towards the Archeron sisters, guiding them through the intricate transitions of fae life that they still at times struggled with. Nyx was absolutely enamoured with you, oftentimes seeking your company over his actual family. But they didn’t blame him, because they all did same. Your calm sweet nature was addictive to them all, especially Azriel.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Azriel found himself seeking every opportunity to unravel all your layers. He wanted to know everything about you. From your favourite foods, to the books that captured your attention.

His infatuation all made sense when the bond snapped. 

It was the last solstice.

Azriel had noticed how beautiful you were looking, as you always were. But you were clad in a breathtaking pale pink summer dress, the neckline delicately showcasing your décolletage. As you moved with a natural grace, the fabric billowed ever so slightly at the waist, accentuating your silhouette in a manner that held attention.

Or at least held Azriel’s attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

He watched you carefully navigate the chaos of the room. Nyx in one arm, giving Feyre some rest and reprieve in her pregnant state. Your other hand bringing in the cake Elain had spent all morning baking. Amidst the flurry of activity, you had been so close to dropping the cake. But Azriel's steady hand intervened just in time, grabbing the plate and taking it off you. Except in that moment your hands touched, grazed past one another in a way they had so many times before. 

But that time had been different.

It was Azriel’s turn to almost drop the cake. That all consuming warmth flooded his chest catching him off guard. A golden thread connecting itself to you. The mating bond. Finally.

And based on the bright red flush covering your cheeks, it was clear you’d felt it too. You’d fled the room then, overcome with emotion and what this new revelation meant. 

Though, it didn’t take long for Azriel to coax you round.

Ever the gentleman, he courted you. Taking you on the most thoughtful dates and spoiling you with bouquet after bouquet of flowers. He would leave little love notes and poetry for you to find. That it was really no surprise to anyone, when you decided to accept the bond.

That was only three weeks ago now.

Yourself and Azriel were deep in the mating frenzy. 

Rhys had kindly offered one of his private residences he had on the outskirts of Night. A smaller cottage, but with all the privacy you both needed. And Azriel had taken advantage of that privacy eliciting sounds from you that he would cherish forever and never tire hearing.

And then there were your wings. 

You had revealed them to him the first night after accepting the mating bond, and, Gods, was he done for.

Azriel had taken it upon himself, in the earlier months, to really vet you. His dedication to his role as Spymaster served as a guise for his self-indulgent exploration of you, delving into the intricate details of your being with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Not only had he discovered all the things you love, but he searched for details of who and what you were.

Finding himself holed up in the library at times, hours spent devoted to aquainiting himself to the type of fairy you were. 

He knew you had wings, was the type of fairy whose wings were the delicate kind. Most kept them concealed with magic. Yet, Azriel couldn't shake the thought that perhaps they were hidden not only for protection but also out of reverence for their breathtaking beauty. They were mesmerising. Enough to trap Azriel into some kind of trance. 

And perhaps possessively so, he was grateful not many males were privy to this part of you.

He was watching you now, laying on your front. Bare. Just how he’d left you when he took a moment to freshen up. You were giggling, your legs up and feet fluttering behind you while propped up over something.

“What are you doing, my love?” Azriel purred inquisitively, stepping closer towards the bed.

“Oh…Feyre was just checking in. Asking how much longer we might be,” he could hear you smile when you spoke, and watched as with the brush of your hand the magical parchment and ink disappeared that you’d been conversing with Feyre on.

“It’s not even been that long,”

“We’ve been gone three weeks–”

“And we’ll be gone 300 hundred more,”

You chuckled at his response, “Az, we do need to go back at some point. They need us.”

“I need you more.” There was no negotiating. Your family would be lucky to see you both before the next solstice at this rate.

Not that Azriel needed the frenzy to be satiated by you, but it truly was driving him. The primal need for you, overwhelming. The pair of you only stopped when you both fell into a slumber from exhaustion. And even then, there were many times you found each other in a sleep exhausted haze, tangled within and inside one another again.

The bed dipped either side of your legs, you were still on your front but could feel your mate over you. He had paused though, his eyes falling over your beautiful pink wings. The iridescent skin reflecting lights across the room. He had almost cried when he first saw them after you accepted the bond, mesmerised and overwhelmed by their beauty.

Getting to see this part of you, a part of you that was so private, stirred a gratefulness inside him. But there was something else too, a possessiveness that had slowly been creeping up his mind recently.

In the past three weeks, you had both done every possible maneuver, tried every kind of love making– fucking, screwing, mating. You’d even made him a crumbling wet mess just from playing with his wings. 

But he hadn’t touched yours.

No, they looked so delicate and soft, too beautiful to touch, that he hadn’t dared. 

You felt him situate himself behind you, his warm naked body lightly laying on you, his chest resting on your behind. His arms wormed their way under your hips to get comfy, and you splayed your wings flat against your back to fit him.

“Az?” you asked curiously, glancing slightly over at your shoulder to catch him in your peripheral.

He didn’t respond though, not with words. You felt his soft warm breath blowing on the membrane of your right wing, making your squirm under the touch. Your wing fluttering a little in the air.

“How sensitive are they? Too sensitive for me to touch?” You heard him behind you.

“Hm..” you tilted your head slightly to think, “They’re delicate, but you can touch them. Gently.”

You were waiting for him to wriggle his hand from out beneath you but instead you felt something warm and wet run against the bottom of your wing.

You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your lips at the soft touch. Azriel had taken it upon himself to use the tip of his tongue to explore this part of you, a part of you that was still very new to him. He felt you wriggle under him, and he shifted placing his full body weight on you so you couldn’t move.

His tongue traced the ridge of your wing, and he wasn’t letting up. Not when he’d made that sound from you. He wanted more of that. He moved and pressed his tongue flat against the delicate skin, evoking another moan from you.

“Does that feel good my little butterfly?” he purred, you could feel the smirk on his lips against your wing as he pressed a kiss on them.

You wanted to roll your eyes at his teasing, but it felt too good to do anything other than surrender to his touch.

“I want to hear your words,” he spoke a little more assertively this time, before swiping  his tongue along one of the tubular lines that spread like veins across your wings.

“Yes..” You huffed, before another moan slipped past your lips breathlessly. “It feels good Az…” You felt your body heat, your cheeks for sure rosy, grateful your mate could only hear not see the reaction he was having on you. 

He chuckled softly then, the vibrations from his lips skirting across your wings making them twitch.

“My sensitive little butterfly, ” the new nickname only made you squirm more, your core growing slick at his predatory attention.

Azriel moved his hand then, the one caught under your left hip, so effortlessly moving down to your core, cupping your wet slit as he licked the pink shiny membrane again. 

“Azriel…” you gasped, but his touch didn’t relent.

You knew this was only the start.

a/n: just some lovely little fluffy mating frenzyness! I just love these two, so I may expand a little more on the wings universe and their relationship if you guys would like to see that! Maybe some domestic bliss, or if there's any scenes you'd like me to write for them or parts of their story you're interested in then I'm happy to explore. Also this was written fairly quickly, so please ignore any typos, I only did a quick little check hehe - Lottie

p.s. also thanks to @thisiskaylin who inspired the nickname! She commented on the wings fic that butterfly would be the perfect nickname and I just had to use it <3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

[peachesofteal]

Light On- single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: 1 of 2 for sickfics / requested by multiple

I’m going to need a raincheck for dinner tonight. 

Simon frowns at his phone. You’re bailing? You seemed excited about it when he asked earlier in the week, offering to take you and Emmaline down the street to the little café on the corner for dinner. It had taken him days to work up the courage, needlessly pushed on by Johnny’s ‘encouragement’ relentless text messages filled with date ideas, and bad pick-up lines. 

Still, you had said yes. Had asked if meant Emma too, and he took secret pleasure in the way you seemed so relieved when he tilted his head and told you, of course.

Okay. Is everything alright? He fires back immediately, wondering if the crying that he’s been hearing on and off all morning has anything to do with you backing out. 

I’m not feeling great, and neither is Emma. I think we’re coming down with something. Coming down with something, like you’re sick? You’re sick? Anxiety twists in the pit of his stomach, worrying curling his fingers into a fist with a clench. 

Alright. Let me know if you need anything? He waits for a text back, an answer of some kind, an assurance that you’ll seek him out if you need help or need anything. 

It never comes. 

Six hours later, Simon is at your door. 

He has grit his teeth through the day, paced around his own flat endlessly, tried everything he could think of to distract himself. Every time he heard Emmaline wail, his stomach flipped, worry, fear, breaking down his logical sense, the analytical part of his brain until he was standing in front of your door, waiting for the inevitable click of the handle. 

When it comes, and you’re standing on the other side, his heart sinks. 

He should have come over soon. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” He says it as softly as he can, a newfound pitch of his voice that seems to only be reserved for you, trying to allay the panic that has started to form as ice inside his chest. 

“Sorry about the noise.” You croak, and he smothers his wince. You sound awful, voice nearly gone, like your throat has been rubbed raw with sandpaper. Emmaline is clad only in a diaper, and when he looks closer, he can see the stain of what he thinks must be her vomit on your shirt. Over your shoulder, dirty bottles, dishes lay stacked next to the sink, a laundry basket with a mountain of baby clothes piled high sits on the table. 

“Can I help-“ You sway, arm tightening around the baby, and he doesn’t think, doesn’t stop himself, he just moves.“Alright,” He murmurs, wrapping an arm around you, supporting both you and Emmaline by shifting you into his side, one hand against Emma’s back. She feels warm, but not nearly as hot as you, and panic tries to bubble up his throat again at the blaring heat that’s coming from your skin. “I’ve got you.” 

“Sorry, ‘m a little dizzy.” 

“It’s okay.” He keeps you close, turning you back through the door. Emma makes scratchy, unhappy noises, and he rubs his thumb against her skin. “Shhh. I know, I know. You’re okay.” You lean into him harder, and he accommodates it, moving the two of you towards the couch. “I know, you’re not feeling too good are you?” He says to Emma after he gets you down on the couch, hands now around her back, waiting for a sign of permission from you to lift her. 

“She can go down. If you-“ Your breath gets caught in your chest, and you curl forward, his hand going to your shoulder, your body shaking with a cough. “If you want to try.” You whisper once you recover, brows knitted together in misery, and he cradles her, rocking her back and forth, mimicking your usual movements. 

“You stay right here.” He nods to the couch, using a fraction of the voice he uses on Johnny, and you immediately nod, eyes shuttering closed with a slow blink. “Just rest.” 

Emmaline is still crying when he opens the door to her room, the first he’s seen it, pale green walls and dark wood crib, small rocker in the corner next to a changing table. It’s a comforting space, decorated and cared for with love, and for a moment, his mind wanders to an image of you, painting the walls with a swollen belly, or curled in the plush rocker, reading a book to Emmaline, still nestled inside you. He wasn’t there for it, but he just knows you were so beautiful, the kind of glow that would have stopped him in the street. You still stop him in the street. 

Emma wails, bringing him back to reality with a softer cry than earlier, and he keeps her close to his chest, murmuring low and soft. “Shhh. You’re alright, baby girl. You’re okay.” He continues the rocking side to side thing you usually do in a standing position, mumbling things to her, stroking his fingers down her cheek, her forehead, bouncing and swaying at the same. “Are you not feeling too good? Is that what’s got you all upset? Yeah. I get kind of grumpy when I don’t feel good either.” He coos, little lashes slowly blinking up at him, transfixed on his face during his stream of chatter until they begin to slip shut, her mouth still hanging half open. He holds his breath, staring in astonishment at her sleeping face, half shocked, half ridiculously pleased.

“Have you taken anything?” He barely sits on your ottoman, leaning over to get a better look at you, uncomfortable with the way your eyes seem glazed over, how slow they are to react. Maybe you need to go to the hospital? 

“Some naproxen, a bit ago.”  You look exhausted, eyelids heavy, and he can’t stop himself from pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. 

“You’re really warm, sweetheart. Do you need a doctor?” Tell me what to do, he wants to beg. Tell me how to help.

“No, jus’ sleep.” A confused look flickers across your face. “Oh my god, did you…” you swallow a cough, his hand sliding down to cup your shoulder, thumb soft against your dirty t shirt. “did you get her down?” He nods, slowly, fighting the small grin that tugs at his lips. 

“Wow.” You breathe, and your hand drags up your chest to where his still sits on your arm, fingers intertwining in his with a small squeeze. “You really are our hero.” He smiles at you, because how can he not, heart warm and full in his chest, the feeling something he hasn’t experienced in a long, long time. 

There’s a moment, a second extended into a minute, maybe an hour, he’s not sure, where you don’t look away from him. Where you look at him, really look at him, and see him, see his twice broken nose, the scar on his cheek, the one above his eyebrow. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t try to hide or look away, just holds himself still, staring down at you on the couch, sweat dotting your forehead and neck, still beautiful with your fever parched skin and tired eyes. 

“Simon.” You whisper, and he thinks, maybe… he’s supposed to kiss you right now. That if he were braver, if Johnny were here to egg him on, if he felt like it wasn’t taking advantage of your weakened state… he might. But instead- 

“Why don’t you close your eyes, love. Try to get some rest. I’ll stay. See if I can get some of these dishes done. I can get her if she gets up.” 

“You don’t have-“ 

“I know.” He soothes. “I know I don’t, but I’m here. Let me help.” Let me help you. Let me be here. 

You take a deep breath, as deep as you can manage, and then your voice is light, but so sweet, and so, so trusting when you say;

“Okay, Simon.” 

[blowjob-horseguy]

Steve opened his eyes and above him was a pale man with long curly hair. It fell like buoyant curtains of ringlets from either side of his head, obscuring their surroundings. The man frowned down at him with a fierceness that made Steve think for a second they had met in a tavern one night and Steve had done something to slight him.

Steve opened his mouth to speak and felt a sharp edge be pushed harder onto his throat. Steve's vocal cords froze. Whatever he did, it was really bad. Steve runs through a quick memory catalogue of all the men he's slighted recently and how, so he could know what to start apologizing profusely for.

Did he sleep with his woman? Did he sleep with his man? Did he win too much money from him? Did he lose too much money to him? None of those seemed right.

He considered briefly that he perhaps slept with the man himself but quickly dismissed the idea. If he had bedded anyone with hair like that and this passionate a disposition, he would not need to search for the memory.

He looked closer at his features. Hair so long it could easily be a maidens, and so dark it was almost blue. Thick, furrowed brows and lips thin and white, pressed tight together, sandwiched by dimpled cheeks. His skin was pale enough to look sickly and almost green in hue. Steve definitely would have remembered this face had he seen it before.

"You are awake" said the man.

His voice dragged like wood over coarse sand: like he wasn't used to speaking outloud. Steve got a glimpse of his teeth, Sharp and thin, unlike any other human teeth he had ever seen.

A chill ran down Steve's spine as he realized why.

This is no man; this is a Merrow!

Steve's mother had told him tales of these creatures.

When Steve answered the call to the sea, his mother warned him; beware of the sea maidens they may seem beautiful on the shore, but when they lure you to their home you see their true colors. Green skin and scaley behinds. Teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh, and claws the same.

The men are said to be even uglier, with the faces of hogs and catfish, and they drag sailors down to their dens to enslave them for eternity.

Steve has always been cautious about these monsters; avoiding the bright red cap that was the telltale sign of a merrow. The others on the ship have always ridiculed him for it, and now here he is in one of theirs's clutches.

and it's not... unattractive. Strangely.

"Speak" The merrow demanded

"Please let me go" Steve spoke, his voice breaking embarrassingly.

"Go where" the merrows eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Back to my ship."

"You will attack me."

"No, I won't I promise. I'm a peaceful man, very peaceful. Couldn't hurt a fly, me. Wouldn't even know where to start."

The jagged thing at Steve's neck pressed into his skin a little harder, Steve tried to lift his chin as far as it could go to get away, but he felt a small sting as the device broke his skin.

"All men lie."

"I'm not lying, I would never lie" Steve lied.

While far from the swashbuckling type, he has never shied away from a fight, especially when it comes to protecting his fellow crewmates. He's only been on the ship a few years, but he has improved his fighting form considerably from the naive nobleman's son he once was.

While he's not going to say it out loud, he probably would attack the thing, if given the opportunity.

The merrow didn't respond, just bored dark pools of black into Steve's soul. Steve silently pleaded back with his own eyes, just wanting to get out of this situation alive.

"Release me, I beg of you. I will cause you no trouble."

"I do not believe you, you will leave this place and call fleets of your men here to hunt me down." The merrow said panic evident in his voice now.

Steve's own panic subsided for a moment and he realized this creature did not seek to kill him for pleasure, but to avoid being killed itself.

Steve took a chance and lifted his hand to touch the pale arm that held the merrow aloft above him in a gesture he hoped conveyed comfort. He did so slowly, as not to startle, and gently so the merrow knew he had no intention to harm. The merrow eyed him wildly and with fear, but it allowed itself to be touched.

It's skin was cool to the touch and droplets fell from its skin as Steve wrapped his hand around its wiry forearm.

Steve tried to reach for his signature charm, the one his father swears he learned from him.

"I promise, I mean you no harm. I have no fleets of men. Half my fellows are so foolish they could not hunt down their own behinds" Steve said.

The merrow stared at him, eyes shifting about, looking him up and down for any hint of deception.

"I will not hurt or attack you, please just remove this device from my neck."

The Merrow seemed to steal it's resolve for a moment. then slowly the pressure was removed from Steve's neck. and the merrow slunk into water.

Steve sat up on the rocky shore. Without the creature's hair blocking out their surroundings, Steve saw he was in some sort of watery cave. Dark grey walls surrounded him as far as he could see, and a vast black lake stretched out in front of him. If only Steve could remember how he got here.

He looked back at the creature and saw the object that had been held to his neck was a jagged, broken shell that hadn't yet been worn smooth by the ocean. The merrow still held it nervously as it bobbed in the water at Steve's feet.

Even with half of it's body submerged, the merrow was nearly eye level with Steve. So either the water is shallow here, or the creature is of substantial size.

"Does this mean I'm free to leave?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook it's head. Black curls shaking out droplets of water with the motion.

"I cannot be sure that you won't return with weapons or more men" it said, "I searched your person while you were asleep, I took the dagger that hung around your middle, and the one on your leg."

How long had Steve been unconscious?

"Did you steal me away from my ship?" he had to ask.

The merrow looked offended at the suggestion.

"Steal you away? You intruded onto my home!" it said as it started rising out of the water. A jet black tail emerging slightly from the grey ocean.

Steve shrunk down and put his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I have no memory of arriving here."

The merrow was taken aback at that and shrunk down into the water again.

"You don't remember?" it asked

Steve shook his head.

"You washed up onto my shore. No man has ever seen my shore before. Your treasures wash up here when your ships crash in the sea outside, but no man has ever washed up with them before." it said, clearly at unease with the idea.

Steves heart fell. Does this mean his ship crashed? Is he the lone survivor? he doesn't think he can take the thought of being left without the friends he's made on that vessel.

"Did- did anything else wash up with me?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook its head.

"There hasn't been a wreck near here in months."

Steve felt his spirit lift. That could mean his crew mates are alive and well!

But then how did he end up here? Steve tries to remember. His head aches something fierce.

"Why does your face look like that?" The merrow asked.

Rude.

"My head hurts"

The creature cocked its head to one side.

"You creatures are strange and delicate. Have you hurt yourself?"

"Hurt myself? I only just woke up! It's more likely you hurt me, than I hurt myself!"

Steve clutched his head in one hand and gestured at the creature with the other. He feels rather helpless in this situation.

"I did not hurt you! I removed you from the water. You creatures are not supposed to be in there!" The thing pointed towards Steve with its shell, as if illustrating what 'creatures' it was talking about.

"Well then, however I got to be there is how I hurt my head" Steve explained, aggravated by this easily excitable monster he's found himself with.

The creature frowned at him for a moment and then faster than anything it dove under the water. It's tail following behind it in a lithe arc like a sea serpent.

Perhaps it is a sea serpent. A strange shrill sea serpent with very soft skin.

Almost as fast as it left, the thing burst back out of the water.

Steve flinched away from the splash.

"Hold out your hand" the merrow demanded.

Steve held both his hands closer to his body.

"Why?"

The merrow lunged forward and grabbed one of Steve's hands.

Steve yelled, startled, his feet scrambled at the stones beneath him trying to get away from the shockingly strong and clamy hand that held his arm tight, but his leather soles slipped on the wet rock and Steve stayed put.

And then something slimy and oddly coarse fell into his palm.

The merrow shoved Steve's own hand towards his face.

It was seaweed.

"Wh-"

"Eat it."

Steve's eyes shot up to meet the merrow's.

"Raw?!"

"It helps me when my head hurts. It will help you."

Steve grimaced at the yellowish-brown pile in his hand.

"Is it medicinal in some way?"

"It is food."

"Ah."

The merrow starred at him expectingly.

Steve starred right back.

"I'm not going to eat this."

"Then your head will continue to ache."

"I don't think the lack of edible gunk is the cause of my headache, I believe it to be the same thing that's causing my amnesia" Steve said shaking the offending object out of his hand, "I must have hit my head when I was washing up on your shore."

"Like I said; you are strange delicate creatures," the merrow reached out his unoccupied hand towards Steve, "come into the water."

Steve leaned as far away as he could manage.

"So you can drown me?"

The Merrow rolled his eyes. It looked remarkably human in that instance.

"So I can heal you"

He doesn't know if it's delirium or blood loss, but Steve grabbed the pale hand in front of him and slid gently into the water.

The creature wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer to it. Steve felt the scales of it's tale press against his thighs through his trousers as he was held aloft in the freezing water. His feet dangled and he couldn't feel a bottom to the lake, nor to the creatures tail.

The merrow threw the shell that was in it's other hand away somewhere and grabbed a handful of the black water. It brought it's hands up, dripping the water onto Steves head. The cold shock seemed to ease his pain. Steve closed his eyes at the relief.

He felt an even pressure on the top of his head. A tingling sensation washed over him, trickling from the point of pressure down his neck and over his shoulders. It sent Steve's body shivering.

He opened his eyes and was met by two dark eyes staring back at him. The merrow was less than an inch from his face. one of it's hands was firmly planted between his shoulder blades, and the other was atop his head emitting the magical sensation.

"You had a bump on your head."

"Had?"

"I rid you of it."

Steve felt the hand trail down from the top of his head through his hair- still wet from whatever circumstances lead him here- and down his shoulder.

He does not understand why a monster would heal him of a headache, but as he is held steady in its strong arms and feels it's breath against his lips he doesn't think it wise to ask too many questions.

"Thank you." He said.

The merrow let go of him, and Steve pulled himself back up onto the shore.

He heard a wet thunk beside him and turned to see the merrow had joined him on the rock. Its body was facing Steve and it's tail was splayed out in front of it bent at the midpoint as if the thing had knees.

It's tail alone was twice the length of Steve's entire body and it tapered along its length until exploding out into 2 wide tail fins that had the jagged edges of burned parchment.

Suddenly the creature unbent it's tail, laying it across Steve's body and curling the end slightly around his waist. it was surprisingly heavy and the large scales had the texture of smooth river stones against his abdomen.

Steve looked bewildered at the creatures face, who had the same fierce and angry look as when Steve first woke up.

"So you will not run away." it explained.

"how many times do I have to tell you, I will bring no harm to you, even if I escape."

"I cannot take that chance."

"How long will you keep me here then?"

The tail wrapped halfway around Steve's waist constricted slightly, almost causing him lose his balance. The creature beside him leaned in menacingly.

"You will stay here until I can be sure you can be trusted." it said.

"And when will that be, hmm? What could possibly convince you?" Steve asked.

The creature looked down at itself for a moment, seemingly thinking of a solution.

"I- I don't know. I will. I will know it when I know it."

"Oh! You will know it when you know it. Thats fantastic." Steve spat.

"Well you have done nothing to prove your trustworthiness to me thus far" The creature spat back.

"Exactly! I have done nothing! I have not attacked you, I have not tried to escape, I have made no attempts on your life. I have been a model captive! Whereas you, foul creature that you are, have threatened my life, stolen my belongings, and tried to feed me muck from the bottom of the ocean!" Steve had snapped, pushed to far by this infernal creature and it's damp dank lair "And now I find you have no plan for my release. You know, my mother used to tell me tales about you creatures, but she neglected to mention just how stupid you are!"

The creature just looked at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.

It uncurled it's tale from around Steve's waist and moved it back into the water. It slid it's body so it was sitting beside Steve, instead of facing him.

"What is your name?" the merrow asked.

"What?" Steve replied

"What is your name?"

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"No. You say you have been a model captive; I wish to be a model captor. What is your name?" it looked at him with pleading eyes.

Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. What has his life come to?

"Steve, my name is Steve." He said.

"And you do not eat seaweed, Steve."

"I-" Steve groaned, "I eat seaweed, of course I do, I live on a ship. I just don't eat it raw and fresh from the bottom of a pit is all."

"So how do you eat it." The creature asked.

"You let it dry and cure, you boil it over a flame. Do you know what flame is?" Steve asked.

The creature rolled its eyes again.

"Yes, I know what flame is. If I build you one will you eat?"

Steve was taken aback. The monster is worried about him eating?

"I- yes, I suppose" Steve stammered, "do you also have a pot to boil water in?"

"A bucket washed up last month, will that do?"

"Why yes that will do greatly" Steve said.

The creature quickly disappeared into the water.

Steve sat back on his hands; confused and... oddly touched by the gesture.

Despite the creature's constant suspicion, Steve hadn't even considered just swimming out of here. Mainly due to the fact that he has no idea where he is, if there is land near here, where his ship is, or even how to find the opening to this cave in such dark conditions.

He is tired and befuddled, his wet clothing is sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he is chilled by the air and sore from the hard rock, and now that he thinks about it, he is near starving. So, he truly does appreciate the Merrow's offer to build him a fire.

The merrow reappeared holding a rusty bucket aloft the water's surface. It handed the bucket to Steve, who found dry wood, flint, and a knife at the bottom of it.

Steve smiled.

"Where did you find all this stuff?" he asked

"Treasures wash up here after shipwrecks, I told you that before," The merrow said pulling itself back onto the rock, "now would you like to build the fire yourself, or shall I?"

.....

Steve started the fire, closer to the cave wall than to the edge of the water, and set the bucket, now full of water, carefully in the middle of the flames. It will take awhile before the water boils, but that just gives Steve time to lay his clothes out to dry.

He rid himself of his trousers first, the wet denim was the greatest offender to his skin, and his white linen shirt came after it. He laid them both flat in front of the fire.

He looked around, the creature was still gathering food. He's grateful, he feels oddly modest about being in the nude in front of the merrow.

Steve was crouched down warming his hands in front of the flames when he heard a telltale splash from behind him. He covered himself with his hands and whipped around to see the merrow had returned with 2 handfuls of seaweed and a small fish caught in its mouth.

It looked Steve up and down from its place in the water and then released the fish from its jaws onto the rock.

"Your clothes are gone," it pointed out.

Steve gestured with his chin to where they lay in front of the fire.

"I'm drying them."

"Ah," it said lifting itself by the elbows up onto the shore, "come take this stuff from me, I can't get over to you, it's difficult to move across land in this form."

Steve walked over to the merrow and grabbed the fish and seaweed from it.

"You say in this form; do you have another?" he asked

The merrow eyed him oddly.

"I thought your mother told you of us?" it asked.

"Well, yes, but she also told me the men of your species have the faces of hogs. As you clearly do not look like a hog, I figured she may have gotten some things wrong."

The edges of the merrows mouth twitched upward. It- it's smiling!

"I have a legged form as well. I could get my cap and join you for dinner?" It said.

So, she was right about the caps too. At least Steve hasn't been paranoid about nothing.

"Thats not necessary." Steve said, though he must admit he was curious.

Steve walked back to the fire and dumped the fish and seaweed into the water that had started to form small bubbles. They still had a while to go.

Steve turned back to the merrow, who was sitting on the rock, splayed out, scales and all, like some kind of ancient stone carving. It looked up at Steve, waiting for him to say something. Steve felt the need to cover himself again, the gaze of this creature is just so insistent, but he thought the act would just draw more attention to the area. Instead, he decided to ask something that had been nagging at him.

"Do you have a name?"

The merrow was taken aback for a moment before it answered.

"I was called Edward once."

"Once?"

"I was banished by my people to this cave, I haven't been called anything since then." it said, eyes going sad for a moment before snapping out of it.

"Edward the Banished" Steve mumbled.

"I suppose," Edward said squirming uncomfortably.

Steve hadn't expected him to hear that.

"I left my home to follow a friend onto a pirate ship that I quickly found was made up of novices who had never seen the inside of a ship before."

Edward raised his eyebrows at that.

"I see. 'can't hunt down their own behinds' indeed."

Steve breathed out a small laugh.

"I wasn't lying."

"Hmm..." the creature's mouth flattened into a thin line once more.

It doesn't believe him, not entirely.

No matter! Steve is just glad that it calmed down enough to allow him food and freedom of movement.

When the food was finished cooking Steve brought the bucket over to where Edward was sitting, or laying... where Edward was beached.

It frowned at him.

"You are sharing with me?"

"You caught it for me," Steve said taking a bit of meat from the fish.

It was saltier than he prefers it, but at least it was food. Which reminds him.

"Did I still have my water when I arrived here?" he asks.

"The bladder you had around your belt?"

Steve nodded.

"Yes, I took it along with your knives, I thought it had potential as a weapon," The merrow said, gnawing on seaweed.

"How long was I unconscious?"

The merrow frowned at his food.

"I'm not sure. The sun was just starting to set when I found you by the mouth of the cave, and it was fully dark when you awoke."

That means it could be as little as 5- 10 minutes.

"Do you need me to bring you your water?" Edward asked still gnawing.

"I would like that yes, but where is it that you go to fetch these things."

Edward looked him in the eye, squinting to see any hint of devious intentions on his face. Steve is getting tired of the scrutiny.

"I'm not going to tell you where your knives are, but I will bring you your water." the creature said slithering away into the depths once again.

Steve sat there, bare as the day he was born, and wondered what it would take to get this thing to trust him enough to let him go.

When the merrow came back with his bladder of water Steve tried not to drink it all in one gulp. It was so refreshing, and he was so thirsty, but he doesn't know how long he will have to be here, so he needs to ration.

"I have decided how you will earn my trust." Edward said out of the blue.

Steve nearly spilt his drink in his excitement. He put his water down and wiped his chin.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You will tell me more about your ship, and I will go out in search of it to see if the stories you tell are true." it said tapping its tale against the stone it sat on in no particular rhythm. it looked nervous about this plan.

"You'll find my ship?" Steve asked, amazed at his own luck.

"You will come with me so I know where you are, and I'm not giving you back your weapons, and I will keep tight hold of you, and if I find your ship and it is not the novices you said it was, I will leave you stranded on a sand bar," it said sternly.

"Okay! what do you want to know first?" Steve asked leaning forward, excited to get the process started.

"Tomorrow, you will tell me about your ship tomorrow. Now it is time to sleep" it said and then swam away.

It is a strange and confusing creature.

Still, Steve curled up on his clothes in front of the fire and eagerly laid down his head to rest. He at last sees hope of escape, and he can't wait until tomorrow.

[pastryfication]

would you consider doing part 2 to the crash where the boys reunite with reader??

you’re everything that i want

pairing: oscar piastri x f2 driver!reader, lando norris x sister!reader note: part two to this.

content warnings: mentions of hospitals, injuries and a crash.

the hospital hallways stretch endlessly, each corner looking the same as the last. lando and oscar are rushing, a mutual feeling passing through them as they practically run through the busy hospital. but as they finally reach the door to your room, a heavy silence settles between them.

they know you’re stable, but that word had never felt more fragile. the crash, the screaming sirens, the gut-wrenching wait—they had both been on the edge of losing you, and that fear still lingers, clawing at the back of their minds.

lando hesitates, his hand hovering over the door handle. he’s never been afraid of much, but right now, he’s terrified of what he’ll see on the other side. oscar watches him, his own face pale and tight, but it’s lando who finally pushes the door open.

the sight of you hits them both like a punch to the gut.

you’re there, in the middle of the sterile, white room, looking small and fragile against the stiff hospital sheets. wires snake around your body, connecting you to machines that beep steadily, and bruises cover your usually vibrant skin. but it’s your face—pale, tense, and etched with pain—that makes them both freeze.

lando’s breath catches in his throat. he’s seen you on the edge before—crashes, spins, close calls—but nothing like this. nothing that left you looking so broken. his eyes dart over every inch of you, searching for any sign of the sister he knows, but all he sees is pain and it crushes him.

oscar takes a shaky step forward, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat. you’ve always been the strong one, the fearless racer who never backed down, but the way your face contorts with pain as you struggle to take a breath sends a jolt of terror through him. he’s seen you battle opponents on the track, but now, you’re fighting something invisible and relentless, and he feels powerless to help.

you look up as they enter, your expression caught between relief and agony. “hey,” you whisper, trying to sound normal, but your voice trembles, thin and strained. it’s a sound they’ve never heard from you before, and it shatters whatever composure they were clinging to.

lando reaches you first, his eyes glassy as he tries to keep it together. he grabs the nearest chair and sits down, taking your hand in his, squeezing it as if he’s trying to ground himself, too. “you’re okay,” he says, but his voice wavers, thick with emotion. “you’re… you’re going to be okay.”

oscar stands frozen at the foot of your bed, swallowing hard as he takes you in. seeing you like this, in so much pain, makes his stomach twist violently. he wants to say something—anything—but words feel stuck in his throat. all he can do is watch, his eyes filled with fear and helplessness.

you try to smile, but it quickly turns into a grimace as another sharp wave of pain crashes over you. your breath hitches, and you grip the bedrails, your knuckles turning white. “it hurts,” you admit, voice cracking as tears pool in your eyes. “it hurts so much.”

lando’s face crumples, the sight of your tears breaking something inside him. he squeezes your hand tighter, his other hand gently brushing a tear off your cheek. “i’m here,” he says, his voice breaking. “we’re both here, okay? we’ve got you.”

oscar finally moves, his legs feeling heavy as he sits beside you on the bed. he gently takes your other hand, his touch light but firm and grounding. his eyes are locked on yours, filled with raw, unfiltered emotion. “we’re not going anywhere,” he says softly, his voice laced with a mix of fear and determination. “just breathe. we’ll get through this.”

you lean into him slightly, seeking his comfort even as the pain spikes again, sharp and unrelenting. oscar’s thumb rubs slow, soothing circles on the back of your hand, and he places a long, lingering kiss in your temple as if trying to share some of your burden. “i’m right here,” he murmurs, voice low and calming. “just breathe with me, okay? we’ve got you.”

lando’s other hand rests on your arm, rubbing gentle, reassuring circles. his eyes are glued to your face, his heart aching at every wince, every pained breath you take. “you’re the toughest person i know,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady even as his own tears threaten to spill. “if anyone can get through this, it’s you. and we’re going to be here every step of the way.”

you nod, feeling the burn of pain and the flood of emotions all at once, but their presence—their unwavering support—gives you something to hold on to. it’s enough to keep you breathing through the pain, knowing you don’t have to face it alone.

oscar presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering once again as he fights to keep his own emotions in check. “we’ll get through this,” he whispers, his voice filled with quiet determination. “one breath at a time.”

and as you squeeze their hands tighter, you realize that’s all you need right now: lando’s steady words, oscar’s calming presence, and the unshakable reassurance that they’re here, right beside you.

[marudol]

kabru and the dungeon lords

kabru is a very critical character to dungeon meshi for a thousand and one reasons, and not merely for his status as the point-of-view character in the story's b-plot. kabru represents the compass by which dungeon meshi's world works. he has big-picture motives that involve the entire world, much grander than the original a-plot of "let's save falin."

he is our classic hero, a character who suffered great personal tragedy and must ensure that no one suffers the same fate. as such, he is a great parallel for dungeon meshi's most integral characters:

the dungeon lords themselves.

🚨manga spoilers ahead.🚨

thistle

picture this: you are a child, separate from anyone else in the world who looks like you due to circumstances beyond your control. you are taken by pale-skinned adults who try to treat you well; who clothe you, feed you, and put a roof over your head.

it is not enough.

who am i describing - kabru, or thistle?

kabru-thistle parallels focus on their shared past as trans-racial adoptees. their shared experiences are not a universal one to all trans-racial adoptions in the dungeon meshi universe: the floke twins are treated well by their gnomish foster (grand)parents; allowed to be children while they are children and treated as adults when they are adults.

not all trans-racial adoptees are given the same courtesy. kabru was raised by an elf who infantilized him, even once he was fully-grown. milsiril did not always know what kabru needed from her, so she defaulted to treating him the way she would treat an elf his age rather than understand what his age meant as a tall-man.

by contrast, thistle was raised by tall-men. freinag saw thistle as a son and so he and delgal thought themselves as brothers. but as delgal aged and matured, thistle remained stagnant. eventually, delgal's relative age surpassed thistle's- but no one could even conceive of that, because thistle's numerical age made the tall-men around him treat him as an adult rather than a teenager.

they both feel immense responsibility for the tragedies suffered by their people. kabru explicitly believes there must be a "reason" he survived utaya and that the reason was to destroy the dungeons to ensure it never happened again, and thistle IS the reason the golden country survived their war, and why eodio made it to adulthood all.

kabru and thistle are characters pre- and post-accomplishing their goals. kabru has yet to assume total responsibility; thistle already has.

they must save them- they must protect them all.

[🩵]

marcille

once upon a time, a child lost a parent before they were ready to, and the trajectory of their life changed forever. desperate to understand, the child grew into an adult and dedicated themself to preventing their personal loss from happening to anyone else ever again. as a result, they looked downward into the dungeon's depths.

they will find the answers they seek.

who am i describing- kabru, or marcille?

marcille and kabru stand as important secondary figures to laios, our main protagonist. in the words of another excellent post, they are the heaven foils to laios's earth. where laios is grounded and thinking about the here and now, they have both identified big picture problems plaguing their world and pursue these goals with intense fervor.

however, these goals have been diverted by censorship. marcille cannot access information about historical ancient magic through traditional means and the elves won't tell kabru what happened to utaya's dungeon, so they both decide to go and do something with their own two hands.

entering the dungeon is a step towards their grander goals, which are both rooted in opposition to long-lived supremacy. critically: the solutions they come to are vastly different.

marcille's solution is very fantastical - "fixing" everyone's lifespans by making EVERYONE long-lived (though her original solution seemed to be more grounded; being a lord gave her the chance to indulge in the full fantasy).

on the other hand, kabru wants something more concrete and based in the real world. he wants to use the dungeon as a means to an end before destroying it entirely, whereas marcille wants the dungeon to be the end. hers is a magic idea borne about by escapism, while kabru wants to solve a societal problem with something tangible to improve the lives of the shorter-lived without resorting to the fantastical.

(note the similarity in these compositions!)

kabru and marcille are aiming for the heavens; they have chosen to act as stewards to bring about a better future for as many people as possible.

but eventually, they must crash back down to earth.

[🩵]

mithrun

a long time ago, a dungeon lord met their maker and the demon ate its fill, but failed to breach the surface. carnage and destruction was sown in its wake. in the aftermath, a survivor dedicated himself completely and utterly to the cause with no room for reproach.

the dungeon will be conquered. and if he has it his way, it will be conquered by his hand.

who am i describing- kabru, or mithrun?

if thistle represents kabru's past and marcille represents kabru's present, than mithrun represents one branch of kabru's future- and a rather bleak one.

mithrun has suffered great tragedy at the hands of a dungeon and, as a result, dedicated himself to be what he believes is his one remaining desire: to finally be consumed entirely. he thinks he has nothing else to live for, so he runs himself ragged every single day just to inch closer and closer at a chance to kill himself while pursuing his goal.

this great fervor is one that kabru artificially mimics long before meeting mithrun. kabru is willing to die for his goals. he does die for his goals. he thinks he is going to die without a chance for resurrection when he sabotages the canaries, which is why his 'last' thought is "it's up to you now, laios!"

remember: kabru believes his survival has to serve a purpose- his survival must have been 'worth it.' in order to make his own survival palettable, kabru dedicates himself entirely to the dungeon's destruction without long-lived intervention as a means to avoid repeating utaya's fate. kabru self-deprives, fails to care for himself, and he is constantly killed in pursuit of his goal to conquer the dungeon before people like the canaries can. while kabru has desires, he only indulges in the one that has guided him for over a decade.

functionally, he and mithrun are identical when they first meet.

kabru has purposefully deprived himself of his desires beyond ensuring another utaya doesn't happen again, and mithrun is proof of what happens when you follow that to its logical conclusion. however, over the course of their week together and the final arc of the story, kabru makes the choice to divert from mithrun's fate.

kabru looks into the eye of his ultimate goal, and in the culmination of his arc, ultimately refuses this destiny.

what do you want, kabru? are you hungry, kabru?

kabru indulges. instead of blindly following through the dungeon's destruction and sacrificing what he wants for the greater good, he wants, and he befriends laios instead of ending his life. he leaves mithrun's fate behind...

...and senshi- one of the most steadfast representatives of dungeon meshi's thesis- sets mithrun on a path where he, too, can learn to chase after newer, healthier desires.

[🩵]

laios

one day, a child was hungry for the answer to a question: "what is wrong with me?"

there is no satisfactory answer. a mother and a sister believe nothing is wrong, but everyone else in their small world disagrees. those eyes, that personality- something must be wrong.

but there is no recourse.

so, these children endeavor to focus on the world around them in ways that won't hurt them. one chooses to study and love humans, because humans are beautiful and complex and amazing. the other chooses to study and love monsters, because monsters are easier to understand and always obey one simple rule: eat or be eaten.

they double down on their interests soon enough. monsters have hurt one child enough, and humans can't get enough of hurting the other.

you know which one is kabru. you know which one is laios- dungeon meshi's fabled narrative foils.

laios and kabru are as textually close to being explicit foils as humanly possible. the first sentence of kabru's page of the adventurer's bible says it perfectly: "in every possible way, he's a contrast with laios. laios loves monsters, while kabru has an endless interest in humans" (56).

in basic terms, a foil character is a character with traits that contrast against another's, typically the main protagonist. this contrast serves to highlight the themes of the story, and we see that illustrated perfectly with laios and kabru.

where kabru has denied himself care, laios gives it to him without thinking. where laios believed no one could ever want to be his friend, kabru proves him wrong. the nature of nourishment and human connection are both critical foundations to dungeon meshi's story, and the main character struggling with human connection while his foil struggles with nourishment is no mistake.

kabru wanted to be laios's friend all along. the b-plot of dungeon meshi is driven by kabru's unconscious desire to understand and ultimately aid one inscrutable laios touden. the reason they cross paths at all is because kabru wants to meet him! he takes a chance when toshiro appears and sees his chance through.

but kabru doesn't realize it until he's already said it. he betrays himself, completely unaware that his supposed interest in the touden siblings skews a little more to the right than he could have possibly known.

killing laios would have been the ultimate preventative measure. he was yet to be dungeon lord, and with the canaries intent on handling marcille, kabru could have dealt with him right then on that cliff. but kabru doesn't take the opportunity because he doesn't want to.

he'd rather befriend laios than see him dead, and he takes the chance by the sleeve and doesn't let go until he is listened to.

and in the end, kabru is rewarded for his leap of faith: laios puts an end to the demon. laios has ensured that another utaya will never happen again.

laios saves the world.

all because kabru allowed himself to be selfish.

[pursuitseternal]

“Virgin Blood:” Spawn Astarion x F!Reader, nsfw Loss of Innocence Spice for you, darlings…

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.6K Loss of virginity

Summary: You’re eager to meet your rogue in the woods, and you can think of no better person to take your innocence than your Vampire Rogue… And doesn’t he just cherish the idea… eager to taste your virgin blood.

Act 1 Romance Retold…

CW: loss of virginity, first time, Praise kink, Astarion takes his time, virginity kink, gentle sex, Astarion more than happy to make you feel all the more beholding to him…

For you, Anonymous sweet thing in my ask box 💞

Ao3 link | Astarion fic Master List

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”

Gods, you hope so too. Your body is on fire, and not just from the battlelust of saving lives.

It is because of him.

His little flirtations that have eroded you, his sweet words and greetings that fill your ear each day. The way his crimson eyes already devour you, as if he can’t get his full of your looks.

And then he bit you.

So intimate and foreign.

And new.

Each time now, your body sings when he feeds, and not just because you can feel your blood dripping down his throat and making him stronger.

You feel seen. Desired. Wanted. He hungers for you and seeks you out. Gods, as if you hadn’t been looking for one to do that for you since you came of age.

Something stirs in your body when you are near him, something wild and untamed. Waiting to be released. Your kind never told you what it was between two lovers, only the lessons you found in nature, the rutting seasons of the earth. That was all you knew of… sex.

But to hear him beckoning you, offering you passion like none other, somewhere quiet for just you and him.

Your body aches… burning. Singing. The blood in your veins pumping wildly. You want so badly to be touched and tasted. But mostly, wanting to be seen.

Wanting him to see more of you. All of you.

So, as the party begins to quiet, you watch your Rogue snatch up some blankets and wine, throwing you a knowing glance that makes your stomach twist and leap.

Gods, he thinks of everything doesn’t he?

Others begin to make their way to sleep, but you step into the woods. Your mind firmly set to give him another gift, and this time, you’re humming in your veins, your nerves crying to be touched. Because you want him to receive this, knowing just how much you will undoubtedly receive in return.

Your footsteps rustle softly in the leaves along the path. You follow that pull in your belly, knowing this is the way he wandered. Knowing that he is close…

That Astarion waits for you.

You pass through the trees, drawing to a stop the moment you see him. Gods, already his pale chest on display. Your mouth waters, your skin grows hot, even though you don’t completely know why.

“There you are,” he purrs, striding to close the distance between you. That handsome face is bright with his own intention. “I’ve been waiting…”

He draws still, a breath away from your body, “…waiting since the moment I saw you, waiting to have you…”

You look into that face, the way he just wants you, pouring his desire out over you, and you are ready to drown in it. “And I want you to have me,” you murmur, a coy, nervous smile dancing on your lips. Hells, you probably look like some innocent little thing. “I want you to have me as no one else has; Astarion…”

“Oh, you sweet little pet,” he croons, his face broadening into a smirk so soft, your stomach quivers. “Do you mean…”

“Yes,” you feel your cheeks hot under that lurid, crimson gaze. “I have never been…”

“Taken?” He offers. “Deflowered?” he adds, a deepening to his grin. “Fucked?”

Oh, it’s not that he’s a vampire spawn that makes him gaze at you with a voracious look in his eyes. It only makes you blush bright red and hot in reply.

“I am… touched to be offered such a gift,” he continues in that thick, honeyed voice, clasping your hands both in his. As he raises them to his lips, you are pulled even closer. Your body tingling to feel his frame, his magnificent form, just barely brushing you. “I am a bit surprised, given how forward you are… how wayward…”

“Perhaps it’s just a good fit, you and I…” you force your voice to lilt, keeping your eyes soft as you meet that insatiable stare. Your heart leaps as he licks his lips, making your hand reach to trace over his chest.

“Mmm, I will make certain it is. This gift, to be the first to know your body… it is one I will cherish… and I’ll make absolute certain you will cherish it too, darling,” his smile is breathtaking, almost as much as the way his own fingers wrap tenderly around your cheek, drawing your face into his so closely, his breath becomes your own.

Slowly he bears his teeth, his gaze raking down your neck into the v cut of your tunic. “Tell me, darling, how long have you been dreaming of this with me, fantasizing our time together as you pleasure yourself…”

Your brow quirks as you struggle to find the meaning of such a sensuous phrase.

“Oh…” he croons, the caressing touch of his hands cresting over your shoulders and drawing down your back. Your confusion ignites a new level of anticipation in him, you can see it twisting over those immaculate, pale features. Then he pulls you flush against him. “You will enjoy tonight, I am sure of it. I will too, there is nothing sweeter, I’m sure, than your first blood, your virgin blood…”

You melt at his words, trembling even before his kiss falls to consume your lips. His fingers are so deft, dexterous and featherlight as they tug the rough linen of your shirt up your body. Bunching it. Letting the night air kiss your skin little by little.

And all the while, his lips work smoothly on yours. Nothing so fast and quick as his bites. No, this is deliberate, controlled. A rhythmic dance that traps you against him and draws you closer.

Before you know it, he breaks from that caress to pull your shirt off completely. You gasp, cheeks hot as he looks you over, the gleam in his eye predacious as he scans your breasts, your skin, drawing his gaze to the band of your breeches.

Those eager lips begin to stray from your mouth, allowing you to finally gasp in the free air. But it’s still a fight, the way your body trembles as he kisses the lingering bite marks on your neck from the other night… drifting even lower to the edge of your collarbone, his breath so cool on your hot and flushed skin.

A moan escapes you, a noise you had never made before. And it makes the vampire chuckle, his lips creeping even lower as he cranes his head. His hands catching your breasts, one in each persistent palm. He massages them, fingertips sweeping over your straining nipples.

Those lips and that tongue replace one set of dexterous fingers, making the same sounds issue from your throat again. Louder. Your body wriggling as it catches on fire, like magma seeping from the earth, it boils in your veins and pools between your thighs.

He’s suckling on you, your hands shaking as you long for them to touch him too, running them into his hair. With a sharp breath, he releases one breast only to rub his tongue through the valley of your chest to trap the other one. Worshiping it with equal zeal.

Gods, you feel strange beneath your navel. Full and hot and swollen. And then, another sensation hits you as you shift on your toes.

You’re… wet. Your breeches are soaked. And it makes you shift again, more uncertain.

“You feel it, can’t you?” he raps as he lifts his head, raising to his full height to look down at you. “The way your body has awoken. You stir, and crave something.” The corner of his mouth quirks just once. “Poor little sweet thing, I promise you, you’ll like what’s coming. It’ll make it all feel better.”

Those fingers, so quick and light, pull the laces of your breeches apart before you even know what’s happening. “May I?” he whispers, running two fingers up the inside of your thigh. “You’ll need these removed, you know…”

You nod vigorously, a giggle in your throat as he grins, that glint of his teeth just peeking from his lips. But he doesn’t pull the fabric from your skin. No, he slides those fingers harder into the soft buckskin over your thighs. Then, he steals their pressure between your legs. His brows canting to feel you where you’re soaked. “My, my…” he purrs, “this will be most enjoyable. Your body already knows just what to do,” his lips twitch as he presses them against your lips again, “and so do I.”

Boldness sweeps through you, assured that you have chosen well. He will make this blissful. Make you feel like the sweet treasure you are to him.

Agonizingly slow, he strokes you there, those fingers so eager for action in the field turn all their talents now to teasing your body. You turn away, unsure as he caresses where you’re wet.

“Don’t be shy with me, darling,” he whispers, “you’re doing so wonderfully, you know.” Those hands pull your breeches down, letting them settle at your ankles. “Here,” he breathes as he grabs your hand where it still presses on the smooth coolness of his chest. “You’ll let me show you, won’t you?”

With how silken, how assured and pleased he sounds, you can’t manage a breath in reply. Only a nod and a moan as those damp fingers take your hand. He molds you to his grasp, guiding your fingers into your own arousal. It’s slippery, hot… and then your hands now slip between your folds…

You moan so loudly, your thighs shaking as he presses your fingers deeper into you.

“There now,” he purrs, lips caressing against the curve of your ear. “So wet and slick, you’re a wonder, my sweet little virgin. Your body’s already eager for me, and you don’t even know it yet.”

“Please,” you raps, pulling your hands back towards the apex of your thighs. “Show me.”

“I’ll do so much more than that, darling…”

It’s so quick, the way he’s picked you up in his arms to lay you down in the soft grass. In an instant, he’s shuffled off your breeches, the air wafting over your body, completely bared and entirely hot despite the little breezes of night.

Astarion draws his body to cover yours, so slowly, controlled, as if he plans every little graze of his skin across yours. “Sweet little thing,” he croons as he traps your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “You’re all mine aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, the feeling of his body lowering all its weight on you, sending shivers down your spine and sparks over your vision. “All yours…” you moan between his full and twitching lips.

“I do so love the sound of that, darling…” With one last little peck on your lips, he begins caressing your body, kissing and sucking your breasts once more before trailing down over your belly. It rises and falls with every heaving, nervous breath you take. “Don’t you worry,” he whispers, “the more you give in to how I’ll make you feel, the more delicious this will be.” He catches your hand again in his to slink it back where you are on absolute fire. That slick between your legs. “Now, close your eyes, and just touch…”

He brings your hands to your folds, dipping your fingertips within. So wet and soft and hot, swollen you can tell, as he draws your fingers at the crest of your folds. “There,” he presses, the little nub beneath your touch so hard, the contact instantly making your muscles clench and burn. “Should the need arise as you think of me, as you remember tonight, as you wait eagerly for the next time you come to my bed… you can touch yourself here for your own pleasure, darling…”

Your body takes over, the rhythmic tracing of his fingers guiding yours… it’s sorcery. Magic. Like fire and ice in your veins as he circles your fingers and his over that little hard bud. You flutter your eyes open, watching as he stares at you, his gaze catching yours with all the hunger and pride and desire you could wish to see. Then, those perfect lips twitch in a mischievous smirk. Already crouching between your legs, he’s licking his lips, lowering his head towards your body as his fingers still tug at you unrelentingly.

So cool and wet, you feel his tongue lapping along with your fingers. Your hips buck out of your control, muscles clenching as one possessed, but it is not in pain. It is flame and ruin and ecstasy that flood along your muscles. Spurred on by his kissing and sucking and lapping between your thighs.

That feeling crashes through you, blinding you as your back arches, your scream tearing from your throat as you writhe and spasm. Your hand goes limp between your legs as you pant.

With a laugh, he places a kiss on your soaking palm before resting it tenderly on your panting belly. His tongue laps up your seam, you can feel the flush of that slick cooling in the breeze and drying on your skin. “Oh my sweet,” he rasps, glancing from between your thighs. “You are doing so well, such pleasure for your first time,” he giggles, “don’t let it go to your head. The best is yet to come…”

You mewl, his two dexterous fingers finding their way inside you now, playing in and out. Instantly, that need reignites, consuming your flesh. Your hands reach for him… for any part of him. You find his arm, his own muscles bunched and bulging as you feel him working inside you. You feel him shifting lower, kissing the sticky skin of your inner thigh, his hand slipping another long finger inside your walls, making your muscles burn as they stretch. “Shhh,” he soothes as you groan and pant and squirm at the pressure. “You’re such a good girl, so wet and eager, this will be delicious. I doubt you will even bleed once I’m inside you…”

He chuckles, watching your body, your eyes wide and wild as that wave begins to wash over you again… the heat, the throes of pleasure you now realize come from his touch. And then he slips his thumb back over that aching little nub again.

“Gods, Astarion,” you keen, your voice rough as you tear apart. Those fingers inside you… your whole body clenches on them, the pressure, the fullness sending you careening into your climax even harder this time. Breathless, you can only make little incoherent sounds, a little louder as he insists on still pumping his touch inside you even as you come.

“Breathe, my sweet,” he smiles, “you’re going to do wonderfully.”

The chill of his touch, his whole body leaves you for a moment. But you can’t look, can’t even open your eyes as you still drift down from your pleasure.

You feel stretched and limp and warm… the gentle embrace of bliss and pleasure you had heard ballads about. You rise up on your arms, and for a moment, that warm comfort runs cold in your veins.

You see him. Naked. Breeches removed as he strokes his cock in his hand. Looking down at you where he stands. Those crimson eyes almost glow in the moonlight. But you barely glance into his face, knowing it’s hungry and needy and salacious.

No, your eyes are mesmerized by his length, so much longer than you had thought, erect and pale. You watch it twitch as he rubs himself slowly. “Shhh,” he soothes from above you, “come here, my darling. I promise you it will only hurt a bit…”

You sweep your legs beneath you, kneeling before him. His fingers caress your face. He takes a deep breath, his belly filling as his cock twitches to see you so close. “Touch me,” he whispers the instruction, your hands joining his as you feel him. So hard, smooth skin stretched over something so unyielding. Etched with pale veins that darken slightly beneath his already pale skin… you run your fingers over it as his own hand stills near its base.

Sweeping your thumb over that thick, blunted head, you make him groan. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with lust in his throat. “Soon, my pet, I’ll teach you to pleasure me in return, but tonight…” he breathes heavily, dropping to his knees with you, “tonight is about your pleasure, your deflowering as I claim your innocence my sweet.” His lips twitch, “which I am most eager to do… a gift I am forever thankful for…”

His eyes glint with intent, possession and pride, his mouth descending to capture yours again. Those powerful arms hug you tightly to his chest, that hardened cock prodding into your belly, twitching each time your mouth moves with the rhythm of his kiss.

Slowly, he lays you back into the grass, those arms that have snapped your enemies in half cradling you gently against his body. One hand slides between you, ghosting that chilling touch between your thighs, the other presses your cheek in his palm, keeping your lips trapped against his.

Then, you feel it, something thicker and harder pressing into that still molten slick between your legs. Inch by inch, he enters you, the roll of his hips against yours almost imperceptible. “Shh,” he hushes you, another caress of those full lips against yours. “You’re so good, darling…”

A bit more, your muscles burn as he slides, that slick coating him, letting his cock inside you little by little. You groan, your muscles clenching at the thickness. And he only laughs and shushes you again. “Easy now, darling, I promise. Those stories of virgins bleeding are only with bad lovers, but I will only ever make you bleed in other ways, other… more delicious ways….” He catches your lower lip in his fangs and bites down, a little nip as pain shoots through you. You groan… hardly noticing that in that moment, he’s sheathed himself between your thighs completely.

Buried deep in your throbbing channel.

“Hells below…” you groan, a wriggle of your hips as you feel the pressure easing. Burning and not in pain. That same sort that consumed you already, only now… all the stronger. “Astarion,” you look into his eyes, how they smile at you, narrowed and delighting.

“I told you darling,” he purrs, a slight movement of his hips, dragging that cock a bit out, a bit in as your mouth hangs open, “I told you I would make certain we are a good fit…”

You groan, not at his words, at the way he begins to thrust into you. Slowly, consistently, letting your body open to accept him. His mouth still hovers over yours, his breath filling your mouth, the taste of your blood still on your tongue and his as he catches it in his kiss.

“Gods,” he groans as your body begins that journey higher, driven by every thrust inside you, the heat multiplying, the clenching of your every muscle catching all the more on him inside you. “You tight, little, innocent thing…” he pants, “you’re going to be the ruin of me.” You feel his lips twisting, smirking against you, his breath coming heavily now too. His arms on either side of you shake, those hips, his body, driving into you faster. You wrap your legs around his waist, your own instincts taking hold, wanting him deeper, wanting more of him thrusting inside.

He groans as he slides to fill you completely, “Good girl,” he purrs his praises again into your mouth. Groans and thrusts consume you, the slide of his body on yours transports you… until you feel nothing that is not him.

It takes you, that press of his hips, that drag of his cock between your walls, you spill into that climax, the oblivion of twitching heat. Your mouth hanging open to keen. His cock pulls all the harder as your body clenches. Hitching, fucking, slamming with everything he’s got inside you, until he’s groaning too, gasping and whsipering in silken tones just how good you are… how tight and perfect….

You feel him inside you, gripped so hard, pulsing as that slick drips from inside. His hands cradle your cheek again, the full weight of his body lowering, blanketing you, pressing you into the earth. “See… wonderful…” he pants, another kiss against your lips, longer, tender. “Something to cherish between us forever…”

He slips from inside you, making you arch and groan at the release. Your thighs shake, even as he lowers to lay beside you, rolling you to lay in his arms. To rest your head in the crook of his shoulder.

A single finger traces your neck, his head lifting to look down your body beside him. “You see, sweet thing, not a drop of blood… well,” he chuckles, “not yet anyway.” Those smirking lips caress over the throbbing vein in your neck. “I would so love a drink of your not-so-virgin blood now…”

“Yes,” you tilt your head, your voice is sultry, heavy in your throat as you keep your eyes meeting his heavy-lidded gaze. “And then, can we… again?”

His brows raise, delighted, genuine surprise lifting those sharp features of his handsome face. “I would love nothing more,” he croons. “So addicted to me already are you?” A single laugh punctuates his words. “Perhaps this worked out better than I could have imagined,” he speaks, almost to himself, that devious, desirous smirk on his lips for a moment before his fangs bite into your skin.

Drawing that first, no-longer- virgin blood.

[flowerandblood]

Flowers and Thorns (1/2)

[ canon • Aemond x courtesan • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, working in the brothel, mention of murder, kind of trauma ]

[ description: Prince Aemond arrives unexpectedly on the Street of Silk, and she is chosen by Madame to soothe his stoic, stony nature and give him what he needs. ]

After a few seconds from the trailer that changed our lives, this short little series was created. No more thoughts.

Part 2 − Hopes and Prayers

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"You've grown so much." She heard Madame's soft voice, looking curiously with several young girls at the figure of a man barely visible behind a red translucent curtain.

One of them is going to make a pretty penny that night, she thought with amusement. She glanced at her friend Lysa and noticed, seeing the mocking smile on her face, that she was thinking the same thing.

Madame was their guardian, if you could call it that, but unlike most of the owners of the taverns on The Street of Silk, she was concerned with quality, not quantity.

They, meaning her girls, were women of culture and elegance, not simple whores, and that was how they preferred to think of themselves, giving their flesh only in the process.

She blinked, hearing that Madame was answered by an uncomfortable silence, the newcomer's head turned to the side in impatience.

She thought the man was very tense and frustrated.

A common reaction to feeling embarrassed.

Madame knew what to do in such cases.

"Do you have any particular requests?" She asked softly, their heard the man hum quietly.

"Mmm. I will rely…on your taste." She heard a low, hoarse, slightly trembling voice that sent shivers through her.

Madame nodded and led him to one of the most expensive chambers. After a moment, she returned and approached them, sighing quietly, eyeing them one by one, as if she were pondering the choice of the right juicy fruit.

"The matter is very delicate. The King's younger brother is shy and withdrawn. His lack of an eye does not help him. Come, sweet girl." She purred, extending her hand to her, and she giggled, smiling broadly, thinking she had never seen anyone from the royal family in the flesh before.

Her friends slipped fresh field flowers into her hair and rubbed oils on her neck, as if they were preparing her for her wedding night − they put on her translucent purple robe, one of the most expensive they had, her dark hair partly pinned up in a bun at the back of her head.

She wondered with a fast-beating heart if the Prince resembled the King.

She had never had the opportunity to lie with King Aegon but from what she had heard, he had a taste in depravity that she was not a lover of.

Madame, however, would not have chosen her if it had been the same in this case, and as she trusted her judgement, she went to his chamber with a light heart.

As she closed the door behind her, she caught sight of his tall figure standing in front of the mirror − he turned towards her, frightened by her sudden presence, his face pale, his nostrils twitching rapidly in an anxious breath, his hands entwined on his back clenched into fists.

He was more than tense.

He was terrified.

Something was happening inside his head.

She bowed without a word, knowing that men of his kind did not like pretense.

She decided that she would not approach him until he commanded her to do so himself.

He swallowed hard, turning his face towards the bed, as if wondering what he was actually doing.

The most devoted to the Seven of all the Queen's children seeking comfort in the brothel.

She thought it was nothing to be ashamed of, but she knew that he did not crave her advice.

He thought for certain that she would approach him and coquet him, whispering about what she would do with him and how much she craved him, but she just moved ahead towards the other part of the room, watching him curiously. His gaze followed her.

"How old are you?" He asked reluctantly.

"Old enough, Your Grace. Madam doesn't hurt children." She replied meekly, bestowing him with a warm, comforting smile. His gaze softened − he hummed at her words and nodded.

Only after a moment did his gaze sweep over her entire figure, allowing himself to look at her. He swallowed hard again, his lips pressed together in a thin line as if he was impatient.

"May I undo your tunic, Your Grace? You'll be uncomfortable in it." She said, and he looked deeply into her eyes.

She thought he had an extremely intriguing face − he looked like a statue, his jaw long and sharply defined just like his nose, his mouth full, capable of caressing any woman wonderfully.

She felt a squeeze between her thighs at that thought.

His eye patch or what he wore under it didn't matter to her, but he didn't know that.

He nodded, lowering his gaze to the floor.

His thoughts were still fleeing somewhere far away.

She approached him slowly with a quiet rustling of her robe and didn't dare look at him as she reached her hands into the buckles of his tunic, slowly undoing them one by one.

She could smell his pleasant scent, the fact that he had taken a bath, his warm, quickened breath enveloping the top of her head.

He still kept his hands behind his back and didn't dare touch her.

She thought with a smile that she would use one of her fantasies, her being a lord's wife, using her skills during their wedding night to win his heart.

That night she didn't want to just be a whore.

It seemed to her that he didn't want that either.

He helped her by sliding the material off his shoulders, and she took it from him and placed it on the table standing next to them. She shuddered as his knuckles ran over her cheek, a wave of heat and desire surging through her spine and lower abdomen.

She looked up at him and met his dark, deep gaze, his full lips slightly parted.

"Your father sold you here?" He whispered, for some reason needing to get closer to her, to get to know her before what was about to happen.

She understood him and it occurred to her why Madame had chosen her.

She was able to take her time, to give the most shy of their clients the comfort and reassurance she herself so desperately needed.

"Doesn't every woman eventually get sold by her father to some man?" She asked, the corner of his mouth twitching in something that might resemble a smile, a glint in his eye.

"Mmm."

He felt it.

Some kind of twisted, helpless bond.

He kissed her, enclosing her face in his broad hands, rough from wielding the sword, surely. She gasped under her breath, feeling her nipples harden at the thought of how gentle this caress was − his lips, full, warm and wet, ran and brushed hers with the quiet click of their saliva.

She dared to place her small hand on his wrist and he sighed quietly, moving closer to her, deliberately shortening the distance between them − his body slammed into hers, his half-hard erection pulsed softly in his breeches.

She hugged him around the waist, allowing him to feel through the fabric of their garments the pleasing shape of her plump, sweet breasts − he drew in a loud breath feeling it, one of his hands traveled down her back, his fingers tentatively clamped on her buttock.

"− yes −" She whispered into his mouth, wanting him to know that she desired this, that she was not driven by pity or any other reason that might disgust him.

He murmured into her mouth at her words and moaned low when her tongue licked his, encouraging him to caress her more boldly. In response, he caught her under her hips and lifted her up − she giggled quietly, throwing her arms around his neck, a look of peace on his face, but also of pride, satisfaction and curiosity.

As he laid her down on the bed, he pulled the eye patch from his face as if it was her he was exposing, apparently expecting a reaction for which he might punish her, fuck her like a disobedient little whore − she, however, felt a squeeze between her thighs at the sight of the precious blue stone gleaming in his eye socket, her fingers ran over the line of his scar making him draw in air loudly.

With a quick, impatient gesture, he drew her hips closer to him, forcing her to spread her thighs before him. He reached into the material of his breeches, untying them, looking at her piercingly, his breathing quick and raspy.

"− show me your breasts −" He commanded, and she felt his words deep inside her. Immediately she slipped the material of her robe off her shoulders, his lips parted wider in desire at the sight of her little, puffy nipples.

"− fuck −" He breathed out, squeezing his long, throbbing erection in his hand, just looking at her.

She knew he didn't want her touching him, that if she threatened his privacy or comfort she would ruin everything.

"− do you want to feel it inside you? −" He gasped, and she nodded eagerly, looking at him expectantly, breathing loudly as he did, excited.

"− there you go − shhh − no, look at me −" He exhaled, guiding the fat head of his cock against her swollen slit, leaking from her wetness − her body resisted him for a moment, his eye closed as he opened her wide with her cry of exertion.

She looked at his face where droplets of sweat glistened, his lips swollen with desire, his long white hair tickling her face.

"− it's half way in − are you able to fit it whole? −" He muttered, as if asking her permission, and she nodded quickly, dreaming of nothing else now.

For some reason she wanted him to do this to her.

She tilted her head back seeing his grin of satisfaction, his hips impatiently thrusting deeper into her tight, fleshy interior, filling her to the brim.

"− I'm impressed − maybe I should visit you more often? − you seem shy for −" He exhaled but didn't finish, as if he decided it wasn't the best time to offend her, a loud sigh left their throats when he finally put it all the way in.

"− a woman of your kind −" He gasped.

"− I didn't choose this life −" She mumbled before she had time to think what had actually left her mouth. She saw his pupil dilate in surprise and she thought she had made a huge mistake.

His whole body froze, his cock pulsed greedily deep inside her.

"− nor I mine −"

She smiled at his words with some kind of gratitude, from which he swallowed hard. He surprised her when he leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, their hands gripping their cheeks, his hot breath enveloping her skin.

"− I'm going to accelerate now −" He exhaled and she nodded, feeling a shrug at the thought of how much, though he certainly didn't think of it that way, he cared that she didn't push him away now, that she didn't look at him with disgust or resentment.

They both groaned as his thighs began to slam loudly against her buttocks, again and again pounding his already fully hard, thick erection into her, her hands clenched on his back, trying to find a rhythm with him, a wonderful shiver ran down her back each time he teased a wonderful spot deep inside her.

His body pressed her against the bed, which began to creak loudly beneath them, his breath heavy as her legs intertwined on his back, allowing him to thrust into her as deeply as he desired, his lips licking and brushing her mouth in the wettest, warmest, messiest kisses she'd ever experienced in her entire life.

"− ah −" He exhaled helplessly, feeling her little cunt begin to clench around his manhood in fulfilment and suck him inside, soaking him wet, intensifying his sensation, a sweet, innocent, girlish moan of delight ripped from her throat.

Their hands wandered blindly over their hot bodies, his fingers again and again returning to her breasts, finally clamping down on them when she felt he was close, their bodies all sticky from their shared moisture.

"− yes − yes, oh gods, yes −" He breathed out, clenching his eyes with an expression of some immense relief that surprised her − he drew in air deeply, as if he were choking, and then tear after tear began to run down his face hot with emotion, his eye clenched as he burst out suddenly into sobs, as if what flowed out of him was not just his seed.

"− I killed him − I killed him −" He whimpered, clenching his hands on either side of her head into fists, his hot tears one by one began to flow onto her cheeks. He covered his face with his hands, as if he didn't want her to look at it.

"− gods − gods, forgive me −"

She put her arms around his head and he let her pull him close, snuggling immediately into her body, his face pressed against her neck.

Never before in her life had she witnessed someone next to her burst into such helpless, almost childlike crying.

"− shhh − I know − I know it's scary −" She whispered, he drew in a deep breath as if he was suffocating.

"− if you tell anyone about this −" He hissed maliciously.

"− never −"

[moosesarecute]

He’s my mate

This is my chaotic mess of a first fanfic. Hope you enjoy.

Not proofread and English is not my first language, so please don’t be too harsh 🫣

//////////////////////////

When Rhysand send Feyre and his sister Y/N on a mission, the last thing he expected was for his dear little sister to be poisoned by something not even Madja had a cure for.

“She looks terrified” Feyre said looking worried.

“You still can’t get through her mental shields?” Madja asked.

Rhys only shook his head. He usually found it comforting that his sister had such a strong mental shield, he knew that no one, not even himself, could get through them unless she wanted them to.

However, now it only worsens his worst nightmare.

“I’m so sorry, Rhys” Feyre said. “I don’t know what happened”.

Before Rhys could answer, the doors to the room opened and Azriel and Cassian rushed in with Mor and Amren not far behind.

Azriel’s face got pale as he saw his mate, sitting on the floor, her violet eyes staring at nothing and breathing heavily. She looked so scared, it broke his heart.

“What happened?” He said. His shadows were already swirling around his mate, carefully stroking her hair.

“Poison” Rhys answered. “We don’t know what the cure is.”

The inner circle had never seen Azriel as worried. Sure, Y/N had been hurt before, way too many times if you asked Rhys, but they had previously always known how to help her.

Azriel moved slowly towards his mate and sat down beside her. His scared hands were shaking as he tried waving his hand in front of her face, but she was still staring far into nothing.

“Maybe if you hold her, Rhysand can get through her mental shields,” Madja suggested. “She would feel safer.”

Slowly, Azriel moved to sit with his mate in between his legs, his arm around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder and his wings covering their bodies.

Y/N breath instantly slowed, but she continued to shake.

“Try now,” Madja said, looking at Rhys.

Rhys took a deep breath, shifted his focus and tried to enter his sisters mind.

He spent some time seeking, but he eventually found a small gap in her shields.

He slipped in, through her wall of purple dust, and immediately found traces from the poison.

Rhys followed the trace and before he knew it, he got pulled into his sister’s worst memories.

***********

“You are not to see him again” your father said. “You are to be married to the heir of Spring, can’t have you messing around with an Illyrian bastard! You disappoint me, Y/N”

You were burning with anger. All your life you wanted nothing more than to get your father’s attention. For him to look at you with pride for all you had accomplished.

You were powerful. You had daemati powers stronger than your brother, you had multiple times beaten Cassian in hand battle and you flew faster than Azriel.

Azriel, the male who had your heart. Your biggest supporter, your wisest mentor, your best friend…your mate.

The male your father was forbidding you to see.

“You can’t mean that!” You cried out. You were fighting tears. You couldn’t lose Azriel, but you knew that if you cried, your father would never take you seriously.

“Oh, but I do.” Your father replied, taunting you. “You’re a female, not only a daughter, but a high lords daughter. If you thought you could choose your own fate, you’re more pathetic than I thought.”

You realized that your father had made up his mind. You only had one more idea that might help you convince your father.

“He’s my mate” you whispered.

You whispered, not because you were afraid, but because you had only said it aloud two times before in the 20 years you had known.

Your father looking at you, staring deep into your soul. “What did you say?”

“Azriel is my mate.” You said louder. You lifted your head and straightened your back. You were proud of your mate and you were going to show it.

Your father started breathing heavily and before you could react, he grabbed you by your shoulders, and pushed you hard into the bookshelf behind you. He held you tightly and you hissed in both fear and pain.

“You are NOT to be mated to a bastard lesser fae. You are going through with this marriage and if you even think the thought about being with the shadowsinger, I will not hesitate in having him killed.”

You father let go of you and you sank to the floor, crying.

“Pathetic” your father said, before he left the room.

**************

You were in the woods, fighting for your life.

The heir of Spring held you down into the ground, cutting your wings.

Your vision were blurry and your eyes heavy.

“Please, don’t harm her” your mother pleaded. “You can do anything you want with me, but please not my daughter.”

The torture had been going on for hours. They would cut, beat and whip your mother and then do the same to you.

You had stopped screaming. Your cries for help became fewer and far in between. It just hurt to much.

“Hold her still.” The heir of Spring told his youngest brother. “I want a souvenir.”

He started cutting your wings from your body. You threw up and then screamed before you threw up again. Your left wing were detached from your back.

“This is taking too long” his father said as his son were close to finishing cutting of your second wing.

The high lord reached for the sword and you have never felt more terror.

“No, please don’t” you pleaded, trying to crawl over to your mother.

The heir of Spring, your betrothed, held your head in place and forced open your eyes as the high lord beheaded your mother.

You emptied your stomach once more before your froze completely.

“We have to leave, finish her.”

The heir of spring grabbed what was left of your right wing and used his foot to keep you down as he ripped the wing from your body.

He then grabbed you and forced you over to your back.

“Let her bleed out.”

All of them winnowed away.

You laid on the ground, trying and failing to move over to your stomach. You were dying, you knew that.

As your eyes closed, you felt a tug in your chest and the last thing you did before you passed out was to tug back with all the force you had to give.

/////////////////////////

Rhys left his sister’s mind and immediately threw up. Feyre was at his side at once.

“What did you see?” Cassian asked.

Rhys only met Azriel’s eyes as he said “she’s reliving her worst memories.”

No one spoke for a while, but everyone could sense Azriel’s growing worry. He held his mate closer and whispered into her ear “you’re safe. You survived. You’re home. We’re mated.”

“I have only read about this in books.” Madja said. “I think the only way to stop the poison from spreading further is to make Y/N understand how happy she truly is. If not, she will die from terror.”

Madja walked over to Rhysand. “What did you see?”

“She wouldn’t want any of us to know that.” Azriel said.

“I know, it is invasive, but it might be the only way to save her.” Rhys said and after a while Azriel nodded in agreement. He would do anything to save his mate.

“I saw our father forbidding her to be with Azriel and…” Rhys stopped and took big breath. “And the attack where Spring…killed our mother.”

Everybody froze as they realized Rhys had just seen his own mother die. Feyre took his hand and squeezed it. A way of saying “I am here.”

Madja was the first to move. This time she walked over to Azriel. “You need to show Rhysand your happiest memories with Y/N so that he can enter her mind and show it to her.”

Even though Rhys was still filled with worry, he had an amusing smile on his face.

His sister and Azriel had been mated for over 450 years. They accepted the bond when she was 56 and he was 63 after two years of being together.

However, they usually kept every detail of their relationship secret. They didn’t even tell anyone that they were mates, they just disappeared for two weeks and showed up mated.

They always say they keep the details to themselves because of their occupations. Both being spies for the Night Court.

The inner circle knew that they wouldn’t share details, but they still always asked. Mor asked about their sex-life (Rhys always left the room when that was the topic), Cassian asked about when they would host family dinner at their house (Y/N would make one of their mother’s favorite recipes) and Rhys just wanted to make sure his sister was treated right.

“You don’t have to worry, Rhys,” you always answered. “Just because we don’t scream it from the House of Wind it doesn’t mean we aren’t happy.”

Azriel spent some time thinking about what memories he was going to show, but he eventually told Rhys he was ready.

“I am showing you,” he said. “You are not going to wander around in there.”

“Of course,” Rhys said and walked over to sit in front of his sister and Azriel.

Azriel’s mind shields were down. Rhys entered his mind and waited for the memories.

————————

I am exhausted, but happy. We won the blood rite. It had been the hardest week of my life so far, but we had won.

My brothers and I were walking towards our home in Windhaven. Before we could reach the entrance, the door flew open and out Y/N came running.

Y/N was Rhys’ 16 year old sister and she looked extremely happy.

“Thank the cauldron you are alright!” She spoke and basically jumped at Rhys.

He just laughed and hugged her.

“She is not happy to see us,” Cassian said to me.

“Of course I am!” She said and moved to hug Cassian. “It is just that Rhysie was the closest.”

“Stop calling me that,” Rhys said.

“Never”

She than moved over to me. And I felt time stop. Her arms embraced me and I hugged her back, but as she pulled back and looked me in my eyes, I felt it.

Snap

Y/N, my best friend’s younger sister, the daughter of the high lord of the Night Court, was my mate. My heart was filled with happiness.

Her eyes were as big as mine and I understood that it had snapped for her too.

“Ehm…” she said. “Dinner is ready inside.”

She then turned around and walked inside.

——————————

“I can’t believe he isn’t here,” Y/N cried into my chest. “It’s my 30th birthday and our father refuses me to see him! It’s not fair!”

I tightened my arms around her. It broke my heart to see her this upset.

Rhys and her had planed this entire day. They were going to fly around the mountains, have a picnic in the woods outside Velaris and then go to Rita’s with Cassian, Mor and I.

But the war was raging and Rhys nor Cassian were allowed to come home.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” I said, but I knew that it didn’t help much.

“I wish I had a normal father so that I could rebel and be awful towards him without it being treason,” she said.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t,” I said. “I don’t think his old heart could take it.”

She look at me with her big violet eyes and before I knew it we were both laughing. Probably because of the two empty wine bottles that stood beside us.

“You always know what to say to make me laugh,” she laughed. “That’s probably why we’re mates.”

I froze.

It was 14 years ago the bond snapped, but neither one of us had ever said it aloud…until now.

“Good night,” Y/N said quickly, before she jumped of the roof we sat on and flew away.

The smile that grew on my face lasted for multiple days.

————————

“You only have a couple of hours, so spend it well.”

I nodded and left Rhys’ and Y/N’s mother.

I quickly walked over to Y/N bedroom and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she sang and I opened the door. “Azriel…you know you can’t be here! If the high lord finds out you-“

“He won’t find out, I asked your mother for help,” I said.

She gaped at me and then smiled her big, beautiful and sweet smile.

“We have to go now though, we only have a few hours.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” I say as we start flying up to the mountains.

The flight didn’t take much time and we were soon at the picnic I had set up earlier.

“Wow,” Y/N said. “It’s beautiful.”

I really wasn’t. It was rushed. I had plucked a few flowers, brought a blanket to sit on and her mother had made us some food.

“I wanted us to at least have a day to pretend,” I said quietly.

“Let’s make it the best day ever,” she whispered back. “No arranged marriage to separate us.”

I took her hand and we sat down to eat.

We talked about what we wanted our life to be like. Life in Velaris, in a small house, at least two children (“No Y/N can grow up without a Rhysie,” you had said), a big garden, many flowers.

“I don’t want to marry the heir of Spring,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I want you.”

I took her hand. My shadows were playing with her hair and speaking to me “mate, upset, make mate happy”

“I want you too, princess,” I replied fighting back tears.

I looked deep into her eyes, took my other hand and tucked her hair behind her ears. “My beautiful mate. I am the luckiest male in all of Prythian even if I can’t have you in this lifetime.”

Now we were both crying.

She then let go of my hand and held up her pinky finger.

“All other lifetimes?” She asked me.

I immediately took her pinky in mine.

“All other lifetimes.”

Two small identical tattoos appeared round our pinky fingers.

I moved closer to her and she did the same. We both spend some time looking at each other, still crying, before we leaned into each other and our lips met.

It started soft and cute before it grew hungrier. We were both full on sobbing at the time I pulled away.

“Are you sure?” I asked, hoping she would say yes. I waited for her answer.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” she answered and kissed me.

——————————

“I can sleep on the floor,” I said.

We were on a mission on the continent undercover as mates. Pretending to be mates weren’t hard since we were mates, but Rhys didn’t know that.

“Ha, you’re funny,” Y/N said. “Either we share the bed or we both sleep on the floor.”

We were trying to find out if the rumors we heard about a war starting on the continent were true. To our relief, it seemed like it only was a rumor and nothing more.

Since we were undercover as newly mated we had gotten a room with only one bed.

“We’ll take the bed then,” I decided. “Can’t have you hurting your back.”

Y/N froze and looked at me. “How did you know about my back pain?”

Shit

“I…ehmmm…”

She looked at me with wary eyes. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I just…feel it sometimes.”

She looked like she had seen a ghost. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry, Azriel. I should have thought about that.”

She looked at me, but didn’t meet my eyes.

As mates, I sometimes felt the same emotions or feelings as she did. And I had realized that after the attack on her and her mother ten years ago, she had been dealing with back pain.

“It that why it always magically appears a bottle of pain relief outside my door on the bad days?” Y/N asked me, now looking directly into my eyes and soul.

“I might have had something to do with that, yes.”

She nodded as a reply.

That was the end of the conversation. We prepared for bed. After we both had gotten into the bed, her on the left side, me on the right with my wings hanging out in the side of the bed, she started crying.

“I’m sorry for shutting you out all these years,” she cried.

I didn’t know what to say or do. I just laid completely still and looked at her.

Slowly, my shadows moved towards her. One of them dried her tears while two others played with her hair. I tried to stop them and get them back to me, but they didn’t listen. “Mate, upset, have to make mate happy.” they said on repeat.

“I didn’t think you could even want me anymore,” she continued. “I would understand if you didn’t, of course. I’m not who I just to be, I’m not myself. But then Rhys forced me to start going on missions again last year and I realized how much I missed having my family around. I felt more alone than ever. And when I started going to family dinners and Rhys told me how happy you were, I realized I hadn’t thought about what you were feeling through all of this. I completely ignored you, left you and you probably felt and still feel so betrayed. I…I’m so sorry, Az.”

I was still frozen. How could she think that was how I felt? I never felt betrayed by her, thought she felt betrayed by me. I’m her mate for cauldrons sake! And I almost let her die. She lost her wings, she would never fly again. I was too late to save her wings.

“Say something, master. Make mate happy. You can make mate happy.” My shadows almost screamed in my ears.

“I…,” I started to speak but had to stop. I needed to get this right. “I never felt betrayed by you not being the same you as you were before the attack, Y/N. You needed time to heal. We could have helped you to get better, but we knew that if we forced ourselves into your life, you would shut us out and it would all become worse. You are way too stubborn for that.” We both chuckled. “You have grown. You’re not longer just a high lord’s daughter who had to do everything your father said, you’re Y/N. You’re Y/N, the female that always asks what’s for dessert even before we have started to eat dinner. You’re Y/N, who always do everything you can to annoy your brothers. You’re Y/N, you’re always brutally honest and we love you for it. I love you for it.

“If you hadn’t had time for yourself, you wouldn’t have time to figure out that you don’t like the color orange, or that you wanted to dye your hair purple streaks, or that you like training in the morning so that you can enjoy your book at night.

“As long as I’m allowed to be in your life now, I’m happy. Even if we’re just friends or family. I just need you to be yourself. It’s the Y/N you’re now that we love.”

Her mouth was wide open. Then it closed before she opened it again.

“I never think I’ve heard you say that much before.” She said with a small laugh.

“I don’t think I have ever said that much before.”

“I want you in my life,” she said. “I have loved pretending to be your mate. I…I don’t want to pretend that you’re mine, I want you to be mine.”

Before I even could react, my shadows were swirling around us, pushing us closer to one another until our lips were only millimeters apart.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked.

I kissed her as an answer. My heart had never felt so full of love.

——————————

It had been a long day with meetings in the court of nightmares. I had my usual place, standing against the wall and making sure no one was lurking around.

My mate had left her usual place, standing beside her brother, and was walking over to me.

“The high lord will soon be going home,” she told me, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking around the room, still very much playing the role as the scary night court princess.

I then felt her soft touch on my mental shields, asking for access. I let her in.

“I was planing on making an apple pie this weekend, at the cabin,” she told me. Her voice was shaky. She was nervous. “Or if you want something else I can make something else. Or if you don’t want nothing at all we can just-“

“Apple pie would be great,” I answer, my voice almost as shaky as hers.

“Good,” she said and left my mind.

She gave me I small smile before she walked back to her place beside her brother.

“I love my mate,” was all I was able to think about.

—————————

“And then he used his shadows to make me fall over!” Cassian explained. “Totally unfair.”

“It seems like you have had a rough day, Cass. Did you miss your midday nap?” Mor asked him.

She then looked at me and lifted her wine glass “cheers to that.”

I lifted my glass and held it up to my lips as I felt it.

It couldn’t be.

I wouldn’t believe it.

But then I felt it again. A tug.

I lowered my glass.

“Everything okey, brother?” Cassian looked concerned.

Another tug and then a soft touch to my mental shield had me gasping.

My heart was going crazy.

I lowered my mental shields.

“You could at least have cleaned the place,” my mate’s voice sang in my head.

I let the glass fall to the floor and before my brother could react I ran to the balcony and started flying towards my mate and I’s shared house.

I hadn’t been there in 50 years. Ever since my mate and Rhys had been under the mountain, I hadn’t been able to even look at our house. Our small cottage with just enough space for the two of us. And a spare room for Cassian, of course.

The flight only took 30 seconds, but it was the longest 30 seconds of my life. I tried not to get my hopes up. What if she wasn’t actually there?

I landed in your garden and ran towards an open front door.

I stopped, too scared to go inside. What if I only imagined it all.

My shadows went crazy around me, pulling both my hands and legs. “Mate, home, mate, home”.

Tears ran down my face as I walked through the door.

Standing in the middle of the room was my beautiful mate. She was way too thin, her hair was a mess and she started sobbing as she saw me.

Before I could reach her she fell to her knees. I fell to my knees in front of her and embraced her together with my shadows.

“You’re home,” I cried.

“I’m home,” she whispered into my chest.

——————————

“You’re staring,” Y/N said into my head.

We had just sat down to eat dinner. Our entire family was here and we had just met Feyre.

“I’m sorry that I like to look at my wife,” I answered. “You look beautiful.”

I took my her plate and filled it with food.

“It’s cute that you still feed me,” Y/N spoke. “I like it, husband.”

“Should we tell them?” I asked.

“Maybe not overwhelm Feyre. I think Mor and Cassian is going to freak out when they find out we didn’t invite them to our wedding.”

“But we didn’t invite anyone.”

The truth was that they on a whim had eloped, just over an hour ago.

“What are you talking about you two lovebirds?” Mor asked.

“Nothing,” both of us said.

Y/N quickly shifted the conversation by asking “Soooo, what’s for dessert.”

Everybody laughed.

////////////////////

Rhys left Azriel’s mind. Both males were crying.

“I had no clue you were that young.” Rhys said. “And that you fought so hard for it.”

Azriel just nodded and tightened his arms around his mate. Y/N was now shaking even worse than before. She looked extremely pale and exhausted. “Just get her back to me, I’ll tell our entire story from start to now, as long as you get her back to me.”

Rhys saw the desperate look on his brother’s face and hurried to enter his sister’s mind.

He was met with a wall of terror, not even one trace of his sister’s normal calm mind. He began working, pushing memory after memory towards the wall and slowly but surely watched it disappear.

Then he was forcefully pulled out of her mind.

“You’re okay, breathe, breathe, good girl,” Azriel spoke.

Y/N was now on her hands and knees, still panting and shaking, but she was moving. She had thrown up, but Rhys removed it with magic. Azriel held a hand on her back and held her hair.

He looked extremely relieved.

“Are you okey?” Rhys asked.

Y/N met his worried gaze and moved over to him.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Rhysie.”

Rhys didn’t waste a second embracing his sister.

The rest of the inner circle slowly left the room, they understood that the siblings needed some time alone.

But, of course, all of Azriel’s shadows stayed to make sure their mate was alright.

———————

Azriel was waiting outside the room. He knew Y/N was alright and that she would come get him when she’s ready, but he just wanted to hold her and never let go.

“Well, well brother,” Cassian said with a smug smile.

“What?” He asked.

“You said you’d tell the entire story of your relationship. So I figured you could start now.”

The doors to the room opened and out walked Y/N and Rhys.

“Why not start explaining that your bond snapped when Y/N was just a teen and that you have been married for multiple years, hmm?” Rhys said and you punched him in the arm.

“WHAT?” Cassian and Mor yelled.

A quick look was shared between Azriel and Y/N before both of them took off running and before the others could react, they had winnowed away.

[al1fers-haven]

I got a request that I think is pure evil

Alastor x Fem!Reader | Angst

Alastor has spent all his time in hell focused on himself and his power, but in the back of his mind, he always was on the lookout for his wife that he had when he was alive.

He tells himself that he hasn't found he because she's in heaven with his momma until she shows up at the hotel, but she has no memory of him (but it is her, Alastor can tell)

So he tries subtly reminding her, but she doesn't quite understand what he's doing.

If she falls in love again or if she does manage to remember is up to you ❤️

I RAISE YOU ON THIS HEADCANNON AND LABEL THE READER AS A FALLEN ANGEL!

"I KNOW YOU"

Alastor x wife!Reader

Prompt: For as long as Alastor has been in hell he didn't look for you. He assumed that you had gone to the pearly gates of heaven with his mother with the way you acted when you were married in your lives. He had tried to forget about it, no longer seeking you but still needing you one way or another. What will he do when you show up at the hotel with no memory of you two ever being married?

After everything Alastor had done in his life, he was sure he deserved hell. The moment he got there he knew that, and there was no way he wanted to redeem himself. In his own eyes, he didn't particularly do anything wrong, he got rid of of those pesky and awful men who thought with the wrong head or were horrible people. And there was nothing wrong with that.

The only regret he had was leaving you and his mother up there all alone to figure out his true hobbies, and while he was hoping he could see you down here in hell. He knew damn well that a sweetheart like you was never going to be in the place for the damned. As his time went on in the pits of hell, the less hope he had for seeing you again. There was no sign of you and thank the gods for that. He couldn't bear to see you in a place like this.

He let out a small hum, blinking a couple times as he was brought back to his current state, looking down at the vegetables he was cutting. His hands shook slightly as he put down the knife and leaned against the counter. That harsh feeling swirled in his chest once again at the thought of you, despite him knowing this was for the absolute best. He couldn't help but grieve your touch. Wanting to hold you one more time in his lifetime.

Maybe that was the purpose of his hell. Having to live without you? "Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" Alastor tilted his head, walking out of the kitchen and retying the back of his apron. His eyes squinted a little bit as Charlie brought you into the lobby, a small hurt smile brought to her face as she explained why she was there. "I- I fell...I know that there's a chance you won't even accept me but I had nowhere else to do!" A sob wracked your frame, your hands covering your face as the pale-skinned woman patted your back. "I heard you were Lucifer's daughter- so I thought maybe you guys would help me...?" Charlie nodded, a loud sigh leaving her as she looked around for someone to look after you for a bit while she grabbed Vaggie. "Alastor! Would you mind looking after her for a moment while I go find my dad and Vaggie?" He nodded, quickly being dragged over to you. His eyes continued to widen as he got closer and closer. "Uhm...Hello!" You waved to the deer man and smiled. His body ridged as he looked at you.

You looked almost the same as you did the day he died. "Y/n..?" You blinked a couple of times, folding your hands in front of you, and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, do I know you...?"

He never thought four words could hurt that much, his smile tightening as Charlie left the two of you there. A huff left his lips. "Oh...Uhm. Do you remember me?" You shook your head, brows furrowing in confusion as you took a closer look at him. "No...I'm afraid not. After I died I don't have much recollection of my life...I'm sorry." His shadow formed behind him, a small frown on it's face before it zoomed away to somewhere else. "Oh, it's uhm- fine. My name is Alastor dear! It's a pleasure to see you again!"

Alastors ears pinned to the back of his head as you shook his hand. His body wanted to lean into the warmth you emitted.

~!~

You were sitting down in the lobby, eyes scanning the book in your hands. Reading more about hell and what it was like before going out into the world.

Alastor stared from the bar, ears pinned against his head in a mopey way. "C'mon dude, you're practically undressing her with her eyes," Husk growls a little bit, staring at Alastor with a scowl. "Oh- Forgive me she just...She doesn't remember me." Husk raised a brow. "Remember you? Did you know her?" Alastor nodded, a huff leaving his figure as he took a sip of his Rye. "She was my wife- She was in heaven after I died she just...doesn't remember me." Husk nodded. Huffing and actually feeling a bit bad for the awful man in front of him. "Maybe remind her? Recreate scenarios you two experiences..it works in the movies and books." Alastor's ears perked up as he listened, looking around for any sign of a radio. "That's actually quite smart for you Husker." The cat-man growls a little bit. The radio on the table in front of you started to play the song, the upbeat jazz in the background bringing you small memories of when you'd dance with your friends at the old speakeasies, spending most of your time dancing and singing on stage with the rest of the ladies you worked with. "Hello dear!" Alastor appeared in front of you, a smile on his face like always, a small giggle leaving you at the sight of his dressed-down state. Just wearing a red and black turtleneck and some dress pants. "Care for a dance? My dear?" You nodded, standing up and patting down your dress before he quickly took your hand and spun you around. A loud genuine laugh left you as you danced with the man.

Laughter filled the room, the music in the background blaring as the saxophone filled it. "Oh! Oh my!" You placed a hand against his chest and you two danced. His tail moving behind him as he listened to you enjoy yourself. "Aren't you a smooth dancer!" he laughed a little bit himself, twirling you once again. Charlie watched from afar, a small smile on her face as she stopped angel from talking about the sight. "My dear it's not rocket science to dance, just to learn it!" You couldn't help but hum, the music coming to an end as you tried to keep dancing. Your hands rested on your head, the small headache you had from the dancing getting worse and worse. "Are you alright my dear?" You reached out for youas you sat down, eyes closed due to the pain. "My love?" "It's nothing...just a bit of a headache, don't fret too much over it." You smiled up at him, trying to keep a cool head. "I think I'm going to go back to reading, if you don't mind." He nodded with a sigh. Trying not to overthink it.

~!~ "Oh Alastor! you shouldn't of!" Alastor stood in your doorway with a nice plate of beignets. His ears pinning to the back of his head as you took the plate from his hands and swiftly invited him in to share them. "Oh how did you know! I haven't had any since I was alive, oh!" You placed them down on the little table you had, clapping as you sat down. "oh?" Alastor sat down across from you, his ear twitching a little bit. "Who was the last person who made them for you, love?" You thought for a moment, just remembering how they were placed in front of you. "I believe....my husband?" You looked down at your dress, trying to remember. "I didn't...know I had a husband.." He blinked a couple times, his heart speeding up more and more. "Well- don't think too hard about it little lady! Just eat up!" You nodded carefully and took a bite. Absolutely stunned at how delishes the sweets were. ~!~ " would you mind grabbing me a tea dear?"

Alastor nodded, the tea appearing on the table in front of you. "oh! Thank you!" "Anything for my dear!"

"Why, *****. Would you mind getting me the cinnamon? " You turned around, looking at the man behind you with a bright smile. His apron red with the words 'kiss the chef on it'. "Anything for you my dear!" He kissed your cheek and you giggled.

"You...did i know you when i was alive, alastor?" He stood still, charlie looked over and raised a brow. "What?" You blinked a couple times.

"I'm so sorry, i shouldn't ask. Uhm- you just remind me of someone...but I can't remember who that someone is.." You shook your head. Laughing a bit as you grabbed the tea and walked away.

Alastor stood in his place, a small twitch in his smile as his ears pushed against his head. A small hum leaving angels mouth as alastor grabbed his coat where his heart should be. ~!~

You looked around everywhere, trying to find the book you were reading and asking almost everyone if they had seen in. It was a little cookbook about new orleans' finest dishes. "Alastor- Dear, have you seen my cookbook?" You walked into the kitchen and hummed, looking up towards the red demon. He was standing over the stove. Some jazz playing from his staff in the corner of the room next to the fridge. He looked back at you and laughed a bit. "Oh! Sorry dear! I found it by the stove and decided to try out a new recipe of deer meat I had found! Do forgive me." You grabbed your head, letting out a small groan and stepping back. Looking at him still.

"Are you alright?" "Honey! Have you seen my gardening apron?!" You walked into the kitchen, a small frown on your face as you looked around for that as well before your husband turned around. A guilty look on his face. "I may or may have not mistaken it for my hunting apron! Please forgive me..." You laughed a bit, huffing and walking up to him with a loving smile. His hands covered in blood from the deer meat he had been making. "I forgive you of course...but my dear red suits you well." You untied the back of the apron and retired it for him.

"Mm, how are you feeling love? Not throwing up anymore?" You shook your head no. Leaning your head against your husbands shoulder as you watched him work away on dinner. "I think it's the Jambalayah love, maybe it is too spicey for me this time..."

"Alastor...do- do you happen to make jambalayah?" He nodded happily, clapping his hands together. "Yes! My mothers recipe of course, it's truly delicious!" You walked up to him and huffed. Standing in front of him with tears in her eyes. "And...you lived in a nice cottage...right? Next to lake....on the edge of town." His smiled dropped a little bit. His ears flattening against his head. "Did you shoot any dear tonight love?" Alastor walked through the door and hung up his jacket, a bright smile on his face as he nodded. "A big one! it's in the back of the truck love." You reached up and ruffled his hair. A laugh leaving his seemingly always smiley face. "Oh my dear you look so tired...why don't I run a shower for you?" Alastor hummed and wrapped an arm around your waist. "Only If you join meee..." You laughed and gently hit his chest. Shaking your head no as he pouted and followed you up.

"Just far enough from the town and just close enough to the stores..." He looked down at her with a soft look. "And just a drive away from the forest..." "Oh Alastor!" You hugged him, tears in your eyes as you held onto him for dear life. "Oh how I missed you my love!" Alastor hugged you back, nearly suffocating you with how tight it was. Laughter filling up the room as he picked you up and spun you around. "Oh my!" "Me and your mother were so worried after you had died- i moved in with her to take care of her but sooner or later i had died from-" You stopped that sentence. Sniffling a little bit and looking up at him. "well that doesn't matter..." You hugged him tightly again.

[petriwriting]

Promise. - Theodore Nott X Reader

Summary: Theodore gives Y/N a special gift, reminding them that they are his safety in an unsafe world.

A/N: I would imagine this takes place in 6th year, 'cause you know.. Voldemort. But beware I've been really into writing fluff for my comfort characters lately. This is very angsty. Extra heartbreak points if one of them dies at the battle of Hogwarts, use your imagination.

Late-night walks were common for the pair. Especially when they needed to get away for the night, with everyone going on in their world it was no wonder they both needed a break.

Theodore Nott was under the threat of his father, expected to side with Lord Voldemort, it was his reputation as a pure-blooded Slytherin. Perhaps in some sickening way, he felt the need to clear the family name of his father's wrongdoing. But deep down, he knew it wasn't right. They both did.

Y/n was by his side, as loyal as a Hufflepuff. through everything. On the nights his father became aggressive and violent, Theo came to them seeking refuge. Y/n always welcomed the boy with open arms.

They had been a pair since childhood, they attended dinner parties together, and y/n attended every one of Theo's quidditch games. In turn, Theo was there for y/n when classes were stressful, and life felt overwhelming.

It wasn't until that particular evening that things would change, possibly forever.

The two walked along the empty, quiet streets braving the cold air together. they had both been quiet, observing their surroundings and enjoying each other's company in silence.

"Y/n," Theo finally said, shattering the long silence that had been following them.

"hmm?" y/n's voice was soft, quiet. they were now entering a park square. someplace slightly more private than the streets.

"I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"About us."

y/n's heart began to race. surely this wasn't a breakup, how could Theo possibly be abandoning all they had, after all, they had been through? this couldn't be. y/n was so accustomed to hearing bad news these days that it was the only solution their brain could come up with.

"Y/n," Theo turned to them, holding their face in cold pale hands. "I love you, but I don't want to be with you in this war," he said.

"Teddy, I don't understand-"

"Please just listen." Theo insisted quietly. "This is not me parting ways with you, I- could never," he explained gently. "I propose that we run away. change our names, we can flee and start a new life together. without all the dangers of being here."

Y/n was unconvinced and looked down for a moment before locking eyes with him.

"I love you more than anything. But if we stay here our lives will be in danger, possibly forever."

Y/n couldn't deny that fact. The war had already taken people they both loved. It wasn't right to be talking about wanting to get married one day, have kids, and grow old together if it meant they would be living in danger, living in fear.

"It isn't right. We can't just flee. we need to fight this," y.n shook their head gently, partially in disbelief. "no matter what happens." the pair locked eyes and the snow began to gently fall around them, coating the park in a grey glow.

"Then promise me."

Theodore shuffled through his pockets, pulling out a tiny deep red velvet box. It was battered, aged, and torn. but it was still soft. "Promise me, that you'll stick around, no matter what." as soon as Theo mimicked y/n's words, soft tears began falling from their eyes, watching him toy with the box.

Out from the box emerged a shiny, silver ring with an elaborate stone placed in it. something very expensive no doubt. something that was purchased with his father's money. Theodore offered the ring to y/n.

"This was my mother's ring," he said quietly, his voice slightly shaking. "I took it from her things when she,-" Theo gasped quietly, the shaky breath taking the air out of his lungs when he tried to continue his sentence.

Y/n grabbed the sides of his face, the boy wasn't crying, Theodore rarely ever cried. but there was hurt in his eyes that pained y/n to see.

"I promise." barely a whisper. "no matter what Theo, I'll always be right here."

Y/n's soft touch brushed against Theo's cheeks before he pulled forward pressing their lips together in desperation. It was a sweet and heartfelt kiss, like two lovers that couldn't live without each other.

After the kiss, they embraced one another very tightly as the snow collected around them.

"I just want everything to be okay," Y/n whispered. "we'll be okay."

they pulled away from one another, each shivering in the cold. Y/n took the ring and gently twirled it around their thumb and forefinger. "Theo I can not take your mother's ring." it was dazzling. quite beautiful for that sort of thing. "I know how much this means to you." y/n said. Theo was insistent. "I've been wrong about a lot of things in my life, y/n. But I was never wrong about you. I want you to have it, keep it, my end of our promise." he insisted.

"Theo-"

y/n was promptly cut off. "Please take this. you know how much it means to me, you mean more than that." his heartfelt confession made y/n's stomach flutter, it was that same feeling they had when they were younger and Theo would hold their hand or say just the right thing. Theo grabbed the ring and slipped it onto y/n's middle finger.

"I'll guard it with my life." y/n said with another shiver, the later the night grew the colder the chill in the air became.

"Here, love," Theo said, taking off his coat and offering it to Y/n by draping it around their shoulders. "but Theo, you'll be cold." y/n retorted, but Theo was incredibly insistent that evening. "I can manage until we are safe at home," he chuckled softly. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

As the two continued on their path, Theo wrapped their arm around y/n, in an effort to keep them warm and as an act of deep affection. Y/n leaned their head over onto Theo's arm.