#and without that interlude it is just not the same | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drunk-person · 6 months ago

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The Promises We Make

Pairing: King!Aemond Targaryen x lover!reader

Summary: She was supposed to be his. Not that filthy bastard. He knew her first. He loved her first. Only to they give her hand in marriage to Jacaerys Velaryon. But now the war is won, and as the new king Aemond can have whatever he wants, and he wants her. He wants to fulfill the promise he made to her outside the sept all those years ago.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, forced voyeurism, consensual exhibitionism, fingering, oral sex F and M receiving, anal sex (very little, but it's there), possessive sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, mentions of murder, Aemond murdering more kin, bastardophobia, Jacaerysphobia, no description for reader.

Word cont: 4.800k

A/n: My little contribution to Halloween "very evil laugh here". To my Aemond wives: This is basically the dirtiest, slightly darkest thing I've ever written, I'm blushing as I post it. Let's go!

Before

The sept was full of people to watch Prince Jacaerys' wedding, he waited anxiously next to the septon for the bride's arrival while slightly moving his hands.

The door opened and Lady Y/n walked in, at the same moment everyone turned to look at her. Y/n smiled beautifully as she struggled to walk down the hallway, feeling her legs still wobbly and slightly damp.

Her eyes burned as they met Jacaerys' and her smile grew even wider. Her steps became more confident, and when she reached the end of the walk, she stopped in front of the septon, still with that smile on her face.

Jacaerys watched her, visibly confused. They had met about three moons ago and the wedding had been arranged. Until then, he hadn't thought she was so eager to get married, since she barely spoke to him usually. But there she was, eager to marry him.

Interlude

Things had never been so bad. His mother and brothers had perished, and from what he could tell Daemon had also found the stranger, only he was left, the last one to survive. Jacaerys did not know if this was a gift or a punishment.

He could have fled, gone to the free cities and been free now. But he was no coward, he was a Targaryen and would not back down. But courage did not help him much when his uncle's men captured him and brought him to the black cells of the red keep.

Aemond Targaryen. Not content with the title of kinslayer after murdering Luke, he sought even deeper immoralities.

He murdered one by one all the ratcatchers at Aegon's command while they begged for their lives. He killed Rhaenys and exposed the charred remains of the queen who never be, to the kingdom after her victory. He personally beheaded each of the remaining ones who swore fealty to Rhaenyra. He burned the riverlands until only ashes remained on the ground without caring if there were innocents there. He personally exterminated House Strong from end to end, sparing no nobles or bastards, women or children.

At the end of the war, when everything seemed lost, he guided his uncle, Daemon Targaryen, into a trap. From what little was known, Aemond Targaryen lured him to Harrenhall Castle, where, separated from Caraxes, he ambushed him in a dark corridor and before the Rogue Prince knew what was happening, he was dead.

And now with the death of Aegon, who had finally succumbed to his wounds and died shortly after murdering Rhaenyra. Aemond had lost his title of one-eyed prince and kinslayer in favor of a new one.

King Aemond Targaryen, the cruel.

Now

The cell was opened with a loud noise and Jacaerys turned to see two guards enter the cell and drag him out without further explanation. And he just followed them without question, but he began to frown when he noticed that he was being taken to the bedroom wing of the fortress.

-Where are you taking me? - He asked, but received no answer.

The guards took him to one of the rooms, tied him to a chair with a thick rope, and without saying a word to him, left him there alone.

A little while later, the door opened behind Jacaerys, who felt the back of his neck shiver. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, and suddenly all sounds seemed to become quieter. There was no need to look back to know who had entered the room.

A low murmur left no doubt, Aemond had ordered him to be taken there.

-Enjoying your stay, my Lord Strong? - He asked in that cynical and cruel voice that made Jacaerys's blood boil in his veins.

-Velaryon. - He growled through his teeth, and Aemond just hummed as he gently curved his lips.

-No, it isn't. And we both know that. But now I don't need to pretend that you're nothing more than a bastard dressed as a prince walking around the court. - Aemond had a deadly voice as he spoke.

-What are you going to do? Murder me tied up like the coward that you are? Just like you did with Luke?

Aemond laughed as if Jacaerys was telling a joke.

-Please don't try to boost your own ego, we both also know that you wouldn't last even a breath in combat against me. - When he finished, Aemond was serious again.

-I'm not going to kill you, at least not yet. - His cruel voice sounded through the room.

-So what do you want from me? - Jacaerys glared at him angrily. - If you expect me to bend the knee, forget it, I will never do it.

-I don't need bastards to bend the knee to me, their false loyalty doesn't represent any value to me. I'm already the king. - He walked while mocking Jacaerys.

-But there are certain things that need to be put in their proper place. There are some promises I made that need to be kept because after all I am a man of my word.

Jacaerys did not understand a word of what Aemond was saying, and came to think that he had finally lost his mind. Until then there was a knock on the door and he said the words that changed everything.

-Come in, my dear.

The door opened and then closed behind him, soft footsteps sounded against the floor and to Jacaerys's horror when the person finally entered his field of vision he discovered that the one who had come through the door was Y/n, his Y/n. He clenched his fists, locking his jaw, trying to free himself from the chair. Aemond approached her and passed the back of his right hand gently across her face as she closed her eyes.

-Get away from her. - Jacaerys shouted in fury.

-I could. - Aemond just laughed as he addressed him again. - If she wanted me to stay away.

-She never wanted you, my dear bastard. It was always me. - Aemond's mocking smile almost tore his cheeks as he caressed Y/n's neck with his fingertips, his stomach tingling with contentment as he saw her sweet, soft skin shivering with his touch.

-Lie. - Jacaerys practically shouted as he stared at Aemond with cold eyes.

-I'm going to show you the lie. - The king said, suddenly becoming very serious, his eyes flashing in the direction of his bastard nephew.

-Take off your clothes. - He ordered Y/n who hesitated for a second because she was in front of Jacaerys.

-Aemond… - She blushed visibly looking at his hands.

-I said take off your clothes. - He murmured the order very seriously as he gently caressed her chin.

She then obeyed, and looking only at Aemond she removed them piece by piece little by little, becoming completely naked. The look of pure desire he gave her made her press her thighs together tightly as she bit her lip, momentarily forgetting that Jace was in the room.

-Come here, my love. - He called her, extending his hand and Y/n immediately went to meet him eagerly.

-Always so obedient to me. - He said, stroking her hair as she practically rubbed her head against his hand.

Jacaerys watched this without reacting. Y/n had never obeyed him, she seemed like a wild horse. She wouldn't let him touch her, she was never willing to sleep with him, she was cold and cruel no matter what he tried, the few times they lay together she hadn't even moved in bed, or completely removed her clothes, seeming to do nothing. the slightest matter of being there. And now here she was obediently naked before Aemond as she melted into his touches.

Aemond moved his hands down to her nipples and squeezed them languidly, making her open her mouth in a soft moan, while she leaned towards him, silently begging for more. He then brought his mouth to her left nipple, sucking and kissing it, making her moan softly for him as he caressed his hair, pulling his mouth closer and closer to her.

The king then brought his right hand to the top of Y/n's thighs and smiled mischievously against the flesh of her breast, still with the nipple between his teeth, as he felt the moisture that was there.

-Always so wet for me.

He then had an idea. And releasing Y/n, causing her to let out a groan of frustration, he positioned a chair in front of Jacaerys a short distance away.

-Sit here, my dear. - He waved his hand, and Y/n, even hesitantly, did so.

-Now I want you to open your beautiful legs for me, and rest them on the chair. - He spoke in that soft voice and Y/n felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair for doing that in front of Jacaery, but she did it anyway.

Aemond stopped behind her and slowly ran his hand down Y/n's body, caressing her breasts, her belly until he reached where he wanted. And then he opened the lips of her pussy, exposing her to Jace. The wetness dripped from inside her uncontrollably, wet like Jace had never seen.

Aemond smiled mischievously as he gently caressed her folds, spreading more and more of the fluids that ran from her pussy, making her moan and gasp.

-Just look at her, Jacaerys. - He said maliciously. - Melting for me, so wet.

-Has she ever wet herself like this for you? - He said, slapping Y/n's pearl, making her scream as she threw her head back.

-That's enough! - Jacaerys shouted, fuming with rage at seeing his wife in that situation.

Aemond just laughed darkly as he inserted two fingers into Y/n's intimacy, who threw her head back in pleasure with the movements he made.

-Oh my dear Lord Strong, this will only end when I have fucked each of her delicious holes in front of you and taught you how a lady likes to be treated.

As he said that, he squeezed that spongy spot inside Y/n, making her beg for his name in pure desperation. Her moist flesh pressed against Aemond's fingers, begging for more contact, begging to be filled.

-Always making such sweet sounds for me, sweet girl. - Aemond whispered close to her ear, making Y/n gasp squeezing the back of the chair with that voice sounding so close.

With an almost evil smile, gently licking his lips, Aemond turned around, lowering himself between her legs in front of the chair and without warning, pulling her by the thighs, leaving her wet and warm pussy very close to his face.

-Raise your hips a little for me, my dear. - He asked in a firm voice and she did it at the same moment, needing his care more than ever. - Good girl.

Without waiting another second, the king took her moist folds into his mouth, tasting her with desire, eliciting screams and gasps from her lips, which for Aemond were as sweet as that pussy.

-Oh Aemond… - She sighed his name between degrading moans of pleasure as he sucked her pearl and played with her using his tongue, while his long fingers hit that specific spot inside her that made her scream every time. - More, please, more.

Aemond laughed in pure malice against her, making her feel even more pleasure, her soft walls contracting against his fingers as her whole body began to spasm slightly, Y/n's moans became louder and more debauched as she tangled her hands in Aemond's silver hair, practically rubbing herself against his face as ecstasy took over her body, screaming the king's name in desperation as she reached her peak and collapsed against the chair, feeling boneless. The body giving slight spasms as Aemond teased her sensitive pearl with the tip of his tongue even after the intense orgasm.

-Who do you belong to? - Came the firm question in Aemond's laconic voice as he held her by the hair to face him, now standing in front of the chair.

-To you, my king. - She sighed, staring at him.

-Then get on your knees for me like the good girl I know you are! - He growled, still holding her by the hair, making Y/n moan with contentment as she got up from the chair with her legs still slightly shaking.

As she stood up, she caught a glimpse of Jacaerys again, momentarily even forgetting that he was there, and with a mischievous smile she knelt in front of the chair where Aemond was now sitting.

-You know what to do, Issa jorrāelagon. (My love). - He murmured with a sickly side smile to Jacaerys who was about to vomit, while delicately stroking Y/n's locks of hair.

-Yes, my king. - She sighed, nodding eagerly. Without needing to hear anything else, she guided her hands to the laces of Aemond's pants, pulling them avidly, overcome by the desire to please him too.

Her hungry eyes shone as she finally placed them on Aemond's already hard and leaking cock, caressing his hardness with a lewd smile on her lips. Y/n ran her soft hands all over his length, from the base to the tip, leaving a gentle caress with the tip of her thumb on the slit from where that pearly liquid slowly flowed.

With an even bigger smile when she heard the king grunt softly, she finally brought her lips to the tip of his cock, slowly sucking only that part until her cheeks sank, moaning at the same time as he felt the strong taste of his pre-cum on the tip of his tongue.

Breathing deeply through her nose, she lowered her lips as far as she could, sucking and licking him with praise. Taking her mouth off and taking a breath, she only lowered her lips to his balls and kissed and sucked them hard while she moved her hand back and forth on his member, eliciting grunts and gasps from his trembling lips. Without warning, she lowered her lips once more to his cock, making him growl and tangle his hands in her wild hair.

-I'll fuck your mouth. - He growled, giving the first thrust against her lips and Y/n did her best to nod, feeling her eyes water. Aemond grunted lightly with his hands tangled in Y/n's voluminous hair while she sucked his cock hard, kneeling between his legs more like a whore than a lady.

-That's enough. - He growled, feeling his body tremble slightly with agonizing pleasure on the edge of the abyss, making Y/n remove her mouth from his cock and look at him with those doe eyes shining with tears, as if she hadn't just sucked him like a whore, her lips still full of saliva and pre-cum.

-Come here, sweet girl. - He pulled her to sit on his lap with a sideways smile, leaving a hungry and wet kiss on her lips, feeling her moan and rub her hot, wet mouth against him hungrily. For a moment he almost forgot about Jacaerys' presence in the room, so lost in the softness of Y/n's lips and pussy.

Until he heard the sound of wood hitting the floor and looked at his nephew over Y/n's shoulder, letting out a laugh when he saw him writhing in his chair, his eyes burning with fury as he tried to free himself.

-I thought you were stronger than that, my dear nephew. - Aemond murmured mockingly as he firmly squeezed Y/n's ass with both hands, making her moan and throw her head back, rubbing herself even more against his cock.

-Aemond please…- She sighed without caring about Jacaerys. - Please…

-Please what, my sweet? - He asked, laughing, kissing her neck roughly as he looked cruelly at Jace, waiting for Y/n's answer.

-Fuck me. - She begged him without any shame, grinding on his thighs and rubbing her wet folds against his hard, leaking member. - Please fuck me, my king. I'm yours.

-Did you hear that, bastard? - Aemond growled, serrated his lips and then biting Y/n's neck, making her scream for him. - It's me she wants!

With these words, he brought his right hand to the friction zone between the two of them and with a smile of satisfaction, guided his own hard cock, leaking inside her, making her moan with satisfaction as she descended on him.

-Yes… yes… yes… - She sighed in joy, feeling him stretch every corner of her to the edge, scratching the leather of his jerkin, hungry for more contact, hungry for more of Aemond.

-My girl is so needy. - Aemond hissed, slamming his hips against hers firmly, making her scream. - Always eager for my touch, always begging for me.

-Harder, Aemond. - She moaned between sighs as she nodded her head, going crazy with each bite the king left on her neck. Going up and down on his cock, riding him harder and harder, feeling goosebumps covering her skin with the sensation of pleasure that only Aemond could give her. - Please… please…

Growling with pleasure, Aemond tangled his left hand in her hair and pulled her against him, taking her lips in a wild kiss full of greedy bites, while lifting her hips from the chair harder, making her tremble above him and grip him even tighter.

Pulling her lower lip into a bite, he trailed kisses down her neck to her breasts, sucking and caressing them with his tongue, drawing even more pleasure from Y/n, who threw her head back lost in pleasure, finding her husband's glazed eyes watching the scene, looking like he was about to vomit.

The pleasure in her core multiplied. She liked the feeling. She liked seeing the humiliation in Jacaerys' eyes as Aemond took her. Y/n liked the feeling of knowing that he was feeling even more humiliated than she felt every time she was forced to endure his touch.

Feeling Y/n's walls contracting around him, Aemond guided his hand to her sensitive pearl that gently brushed against his pelvis with synchronized movements and caressed her even harder, making her scream and tremble above him, rolling her eyes in pure pleasure.

-Who do you belong to? - He growled breathlessly into her ear, feeling on the verge of his own orgasm.

-You, my king! - She practically sobbed amidst her moans, burying her face contorted with pleasure in the gap between his neck and shoulder, still riding him with trembling legs. - You. Only you.

-Look closely, you bastard. - Aemond growled, rolling his eyes in pleasure as he fucked Y/n with abandon. - I want you to see how well she cums on my cock.

With a loud moan of Aemond's name, Y/n came all over his cock, shuddering and convulsing as she collapsed on him, squeezing him so hard that she practically ripped the orgasm out of the king, who grunted and bit her shoulder, feeling the pleasure tear him apart as his seed invaded her hot pussy.

The two of them stood still for a few moments, panting and immersed in pleasure. The only sound in the room was their uneven breathing. Jacaerys could very well be dead in all that silence. Little by little, Aemond felt his cock slowly come back to life as Y/n's pussy spasmed around him, driving him completely crazy.

She whimpered against Aemond's neck, feeling his now semi-erect cock still buried deep in her sensitive intimacy. Aemond cooed softly at her as he stroked her hair.

-Are you okay, my dear?

She nodded at him as she stared at him with a tear-stained face.

-Can you hold one more for me? - He asked, tucking a strand of Y/n's wild hair behind her ear.

-Yes. - She sighed, throwing her arms around his neck and panting when she felt Aemond harden beneath her again.

-Then be good, go to the bed and get on your hands and knees for me. - He murmured with his lips pressed against Y/n's ear, while firmly squeezing both of her ass cheeks.

Y/n stood up and gasped as her body disconnected from Aemond's and with wobbly legs she walked slowly to the bed, not sparing even a glance at her husband still tied to the chair. Aemond's seed ran down her thighs along with her own fluids and with a sigh she knelt on the bed making every effort to stay steady, with her legs aching after sex.

Aemond walked to the bed and opening the last drawer he took the bottle of oil and Y/n moaned with contentment already knowing what was coming. He positioned himself behind her and gently kissed each of her ass cheeks before spreading them, exposing her wrinkled hole. She sighed at him and leaned her body even further forward just as she knew Aemond liked, her gaze meeting Jace's at that moment with a smile of pure satisfaction as she saw tears running down his damn face.

Y/n then felt the first finger soaked in oil entering her ass and sighed as she buried her face between the sheets. It didn't take long for Aemond to insert the second and then the third while making slow movements with his hand. He brought his other hand to her swollen clitoris and gently stimulated it, making her sigh and moan with the double stimulation.

And when he removed his fingers she waited anxiously for what was to come, the feeling of pleasure taking over her body as Aemond invaded her ass with his cock slowly.

-Seven hells. - Aemond moaned as he sheathed himself completely inside her. - Always so tight back here.

He then slapped Y/n's ass making her moan and began to fuck her hard against the mattress while she moaned desperately. Aemond pressed her pearl again leaving her a mess of moans and gasps for him as she begged for more. She no longer had any strength in her arms and collapsed on the bed, only with her hips raised as Aemond held them and she tried to keep them in the right position with the little strength she had left in her body.

-Whose cunt is this Y/n? - Aemond growled as he pinched her pearl between his fingers making her scream and spasm on the sheets.

-Y-yours Aemond. - She whimpered at him with tears of pleasure running down her cheeks.

-And whose mouth is this? - He murmured leaning down and kissing her in a way that could be passionate and dirty at the same time.

-Only yours my king. - She moaned between kisses.

-And whose is this tight, delicious ass? - He asked, slapping her left cheek, fucking her even harder while stimulating her clitoris with his fingertips.

-Yours. - Y/n cried and moaned. - Only yours, Aemond. Only yours. Always only yours my king.

Jacaerys could no longer look, could no longer feel repulsion, all of this was too much for him. Y/n was his, it was not supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be the king. Y/n was supposed to be his wife. Tears ran uncontrollably down his face as he saw his wife being degraded in the worst and most repulsive way before his eyes.

-Cum for me one more time Issa jorrāelagon. (My love). - Aemond spoke with his body glued to hers as he sped up his movements, and shortly after Y/n came with a moan and collapsed on the bed while Aemond came deep in her ass with a guttural moan and bit her right shoulder.

-I love you. - She said with a tired smile as Aemond pulled out of her and kept his own intimacy in his pants.

-Avy jorrāelan tolī, issa jorrāelagon. (I love you too, my love). - He murmured softly only for Y/n's tired and sleepy ears, as he left a wet kiss between her shoulder blades.

Y/n had never said those words to Jacaerys, had never even come close, had never even told him that he was tolerable. And a tear of pure hatred and betrayal ran down his face. He saw her in bed falling asleep covered in sweat with Aemond's seed dripping down her holes while Aemond smiled victoriously at him.

-What did you do all this for? - He asked with a choked voice trying to keep it steady, feeling the bile about to make him vomit after seeing one of the greatest atrocities of life happen in front of him. - You already had her now.

Aemond walked slowly towards Jacaerys with confident steps and a smile that was a mix of victory and malice.

-No my hateful nephew. I always had her. She was always mine. And you always trying to steal what is not yours dared to put your filthy paws on her perfect body! - He hissed with his eyes burning with fury, leaning over the chair and staring at him deeply.

-On your wedding day she came to me crying and begged me to take her virginity so that she would not have it stolen by you. - He smiled at the memory in an almost melancholic way. - And I did as she asked and fucked her, while she was still wearing that wedding dress, before you had even seen her in it.

-When she entered the sept, it was with my seed dripping down her thighs, just like now. - Aemond laughed victoriously as he watched Jace shake his head in pure shock and sadness.

-She never wanted you, she came to me every chance she got and begged me to give her the pleasure she knew only I could give her. - He hissed angrily, his voice low and deadly. - She told me she felt disgusted every time she needed to feel your touch against her skin and that she would kill you in your sleep if she could.

If Aemond had told him this a few hours ago, Jace would have denied it, said he was lying, but now… there was no denying the facts. Not after the torture she had subjected him to. Not after seeing his wife being sodomized by his uncle while she cried and begged for more beneath him.

-And now… - Aemond said, approaching with a sick smile as he pulled the dagger from his belt. - I will fulfill the promise I made her years ago.

And with his eyes still glazed over from the nightmare he had been forced to watch, Jacaerys waited silently for the stranger, who was certainly coming to meet him in the form of Aemond Targaryen.

The promise

-When my brother is king and I am your hand, I will take you for myself in front of that filthy bastard, and when I finish giving you pleasure, I will cut his throat and take you as my wife. - Aemond whispered softly against her jugular, very close to her ear, making her skin crawl.

And with that promise, Lady Y/n entered the sept to marry Prince Jacaerys with a smile on her face.

The future

Y/n felt free, she felt light, she felt like the most beautiful creature in all the kingdoms. The maids were preparing her wedding dress, beautiful as only something royal could be.

The council warned Aemond about the fact that marrying the wife of Prince Jacaerys, who had consistent rumors that the king himself had slit his throat, would not help improve his already low reputation. But he did not care. And ignoring all opinions, he set the wedding date as soon as possible, because he was sure that his seed had already taken root now with the absence of moon tea.

And today, finally, the most important day of all had arrived. She would finally be Aemond's, Aemond's and his alone, no more unwanted touches, no more pain, no more tears. She would be his alone. And that was why she smiled as they arranged her clothes. Shortly after they had finished dressing, combing her hair and putting her shoes on, all the maids left her alone in the room. It wasn't long before she heard a light knock on the door. Frowning, she went over and opened it, finding a young page standing there with a yellowed piece of paper between his fingers.

-The king ordered this to be delivered to you my lady. - He said, giving her the paper, bowing and then walking away.

Y/n smiled even wider if possible, and when she opened the paper, she thought her heart would explode with pure happiness.

"I'm thinking of you, see you in the sept.

A.T."

She pressed the letter to her chest with a sigh of joy, and then safely put it away in her bedside drawer.

Lady Y/n, soon to be queen, entered the sept with a smile from ear to ear, but this time it was for all the right reasons.

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after-witch · 3 months ago

Text

A Snowy Interlude [Yandere Illumi x Reader]

Title: A Snowy Interlude [Yandere Illumi x Reader]

Synopsis: You play in the snow--a rare treat.

Word count: 1418

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of past abuse

“Are… you… sure this is… allowed?”

Even if it weren’t cold, your words would have come out slow and almost stuttered. But the cold air doesn’t do anything to help the eloquence of your speech, which comes out haltingly, words carefully chosen and accompanied by puffs of your whitened breath.

Illumi’s face remains, as almost always, impassive.

“What do you mean, allowed?” He asks, finally, watching as you take each piece of winter clothing from the standing butler and slip them on. Gloves, a scarf, a hat, all fitted perfectly to your form.

It would have been nicer to put them on before stepping out into the winter air, but you hadn’t been outside in months, and you weren’t going to complain about a thing. He did have you step into winter boots first, at least, and a winter coat.

“I just mean,” you reply, watching as the butler gestures for you to step into a pair of thick, puffy snow pants–the kind you used to wear as a kid, “I haven’t been outside in… a while.”

Your voice warbles as you hold onto the butler’s arm support and step into the puffy pants; butlers were the only other people you were allowed to touch, besides Illumi. Even then, they knew to never touch first; you could touch them like furniture, like a useful thing.

Illumi hums. “No, you haven’t. I felt it inappropriate for you to be outside.”

You don’t comment–you don’t want him to elaborate and change his mind. Or worse, decide that it is inappropriate for a newly-minted Zoldyck wife to step outside the mansion looking like an oversized marshmallow.

Once you’re dressed, the butler stands aside, and you let your gaze wander across the garden.

It had really been snowing. Illumi had let you sit at the window watching as the flakes fell, thin and almost rain-like at first, but then gradually getting thicker and fluffier as the day went on. It snowed for almost three days straight and now the entire estate looked like something out of a pretty winter story–the roofs all covered in white, the same pretty sparkling white that covered the ground and went up past your knees.

It was all waiting, just beyond the cobblestone path leading back inside the estate. It had been neatly shoveled out and you tried to picture the butlers shoveling it bit by bit, as your neighbors were no doubt doing back home. Well. What had been home, before all this.

Illumi doesn’t make to move, and you give him an awkward look.

“Um. So. Can I… go out there?” It’s a silly question, you realize. Why get you all dressed up for being outside if you were just going to stand on the shoveled path? Oh. Well. Actually. Maybe it's not so silly, and Illumi was just being irritatingly over-protective about the cold.

And perhaps you’re right to question it, because Illumi’s eyebrows furrow. Just a little. Just enough to notice.

“Oh,” he says, as if he hadn’t considered it. He pauses, and you wonder if this is it, your time outside will just be spent standing at staring. “... Yes. I suppose that’s all right.”

Something like happiness prickles your chest and you step away from the shoveled cobblestones, boots sinking into the deep snow. The sound of each step is so familiar, so nostalgic; the swish of your snow pants with every movement, the soft crunching of the snow, the way it yields underneath your boots.

Your smile grows without you realizing it as you make your way into the garden, arms out at your sides for balance. How long is it since you’ve been in the snow like this? Even before Illumi took you, it wasn’t like you had the time for it.

You were a kid, surely. Maybe 12 or 13, the last time it was still considered cool to dress in bulky outerwear and trudge your sled up to the neighborhood sledding hill.

A sense of wonder overtakes you, and it feels like the past few months are left behind you, standing alongside Illumi and the butler–the training, the pain, the burns, the bruises, the broken arm and fingers. The instructions and etiquette and rules, rules, rules.

How could they come with you, as you begin to trudge–happy then happier–through the snow?

It’s so thick you feel like if you fell down, you’d be lost in it. Maybe you’ll sink to the ground. Maybe you could make a snow angel–or a cave. The urge to fall overtakes you as it so often did in childhood and you simply plop backward in the snow. The thump hides the sound of Illumi rushing forward, though perhaps he would have known how to run through the snow silently anyway.

When you look up, you see Illumi, of course. But beyond that is what you’re interested in: the sky above you, all blue and lovely. There’s whiteness, too, the sparkling prettiness of the snow all around you. Some of the cold has seeped underneath your coat and scarf, burning your ears. But you don’t mind.

Of course, you’re eventually forced to acknowledge him, and you finally let your gaze focus on Illumi. He’s leaning down, his hair almost becoming a black curtain.

“Why did you fall?” He looks–almost concerned, you think. “Are you having a heart attack?” It’s funny, really, the way he phrases his so calmly. If you weren’t becoming somewhat decent at reading him, you might think he was joking.

He’s not. So–

You blink up at him.

Then you move your arms and legs up and down, up and down, making a snow angel underneath you.

Illumi blinks back.

“Perhaps you’ve had a stroke.”

You grin, then, and clutch a handful of snow underneath your gloves.

“I didn’t, to both. Haven’t you ever made a snow angel?” You ask, curling the snow together, beginning to form a ball and idly wondering if you’re brave enough to do it.

Illumi straightens his back, and looks at the impressions of snow you’ve left behind your arms and legs. He doesn’t seem impressed.

“No. I haven’t.”

Something pangs inside you, and a question floats up: what kind of childhood did Illumi have, anyway? Maybe he never played in the snow. Never made a snow angel, never spent hours digging out a snow cave with friends. Never slid down a hill and bashed into a tree and it hurt but it was fun all the same.

It must have been hard.

Your fingers curl around your newly made snowball and instead of chucking it as his face, you sit up, and start pulling in more snow to make it bigger.

“What are you doing?”

You don’t answer. Instead you keep going, scooping, gathering, and rolling until you’ve got the makings of a fantastic snowman butt.

“Are you going to answer me?” There’s enough of a sharp pin in his tone and you hoist yourself up, using the round snowman butt as leverage.

“I’m making a snowman,” you answer. “But all I’ve got is the butt.” You gesture to your creation, stalling for the time needed to create the words, to ask the question. Surprising, how hard it is to ask Illumi to do something like this.

“If you want, you could… get some gloves and join me?”

Illumi looks around you, at the disheveled mess you’ve made of the pristine fallen snow, at the clumps of snow clinging to your snow pants, your gloves, your hat. At the large round ball you’re proclaiming is a snowman butt.

At your face, beaming, carefree, in a way he’s never seen you look since before he took you.

“I don’t mind the cold,” is all he says, before he leans down and begins to mimic the way you scooped snow together.

It doesn’t hold. He’s awful at it. And you do something you’ve never done before, at least, not on your own initiative–you place your gloved hands over his and curl your fingers in the right way, so that the snow gets packed together properly.

Illumi goes still, and you pretend not to notice, because you think he’d rather you didn’t.

Instead, you keep on making your snowman, as Illumi slowly but surely gets the hang of it.

“I’m glad it snowed so much,” you say, quietly, cheerily, wondering if a butler could run inside to get carrots and something for the snowman to wear.

Illumi, in response, hums.

It’s as close as you’ll get to agreement.

#yandere illumi #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere #afterwitch writes #I still gotta reblog them but!! the two valentine's day fics posted with Illumi got him on my brain #... sometimes it takes me a week to write 200 words #sometimes I write a little 1400 ficlet in an hour #writing brain pls

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viaviavie · 5 months ago

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SEEKING DREAMLIGHT | INTERLUDE 1

in which you return to twisted wonderland. welcome back home to the ramshackle dorm, or at least, what became of it in your absence. it certainly welcomes you back. the ghosts have never forgotten that young student that took so much care of this place. its current inhabitants swear you are one of those ghosts, and you are in a way. do not fret alice, wonderland has not truly forgotten you.

SUMMARY: based on disney’s dreamlight valley. years after the ramshackle prefect had left twisted wonderland, former students suddenly find themselves back in night raven college with missing memories and dreams of a magicless student they were supposed to know. an older prefect finally makes a return to a shell of the fantasy you once lived, falling in love once more with what was forgotten.

FEATURING: skully j. graves, ace trappola, deuce spade

NOTES: there actually wasn't going to be an interlude, but if i added heartlsabyul onto here, the pacing doesn't taste well.

[ INDEX ] [ PREVIOUS ] [ NEXT ]

The very moment your feet takes a step outside the Room of Mirrors, this twisted world threatens to steal your breath for good. Heavy as Grim was, nothing could ever compared to how low your heart sank as you see nothing but thorns upon thorns. Much to your relief, it was nothing like shadows that a certain horned housewarden casted over the island. This was something different.

There was no overlooking sense of death this time. Rather, there is only melancholy and emptiness, akin to the exploration of a lost ruin. Vines had overgrown past the concrete and construction, almost swallowing every building hole in its wake. As you walk past the stone pathway, you could only hold your breath as you glance at the Great Seven.

Once polished and prim, now obscured with moss and rust.

Still, you carry on as the direbeast purrs against your neck. It almost astounds you how calm Grim has become. Memories of that hotheaded cat-like beast still runs fresh through your mind, and this is that very same beast on your shoulders. You wonder if he carries the same longing and sadness as you. Grim is a bigger now, more beast-like than feline if anything. Even so, he controls the fire burning from his ears, warming you lovingly as he had so long ago.

And you stare at what remains of the Ramshackle Dorm, seemingly unchanged compared to the rest of this world.

"You actually remember the way home, Henchman." Grim murmured, slitted eyes fixated on the old wooden door. It surprises you to see it untouched by any thorns. The building just looks the same as it did in your faint memories, from its pathway to the creaky window of the bedroom you once lived in.

Welcome home, voices whisper and you don't miss the slight luminescent figures hiding in the chandelier.

You don't expect the door to open itself without resistance, and you don't question it. With furrowed brows, you press your cheek against the grey fur. "Dumb and Dumber, are they here?" You whisper, quietly shutting the entrance behind you. It is dark, save for the sunlight that had filtered its way in through dusty windows.

This wasn't right, you think to yourself as your hand brushes against a dusty side table. The old run-down Ramshackle Dorm, truly befitting of the name. Except, the last time you saw it, it appeared so brand new and taken care of.

You put an end to the thought, feeling a slight pang from your temples the more you forced yourself to remember.

Grim huffed, finally jumping off your shoulder and landing onto a nearby platform. "Somewhere. They're always here somewhere." You narrow your eyes as you follow the direbeast up the rickety stairway. Dumb and Dumber, who could they possibly be? You don't register the way your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, struggling to recall a memory. Once at the top of the stairs, your hand tightly grips the railing as you force yourself forward.

Grim pauses, turning around to look at you with worry. "Henchman? What's wrong?"

You don't remember a thing at all. Something was horribly wrong. You know what those two people meant to you, and yet, you cannot remember it at all. Your nails are unknowingly scraping at the wooden structure, and you crane over as fog begins to overtake your senses.

"Prefect, why?!"

A cry is torn from your throat as you felt a heavy weight knock you onto the floor. Grim scampers onto your torso, baring his teeth towards a shadow creeping up the stairs. "Henchman, get back!" He screeches, and you do not take a moment to rest when you clambered onto the balcony railing. Your eyes are trained onto the stairway as a inky blotted shadow slowly approaches.

Blue flames breath out of Grim's jaws as he growls at the abomination, and you could only stare in awe at the large flames he can spit out. You recall how small those fire orbs were in the past, but now, they can even compare to a true mage's spell.

Alas, the blot does not respond even as it takes damage. It continues to crawl, ignoring the direbeast and only moving closer and closer to you. A hand-like figure is outstretched towards you, and you swear that you can hear it screaming your name.

That was all that took to make you run. Grim is hot on your trail as you make a sprint down the hallway. It is all slowly coming back to you, these halls that you once lived in. The shadow continues to wail, but it lacks the speed to truly catch you. Floors whine and creak with each step you take, and it ceases when you reach a dead end.

All that is left to you is a rusted book resting on a table top and a vase. None of these rooms will not help you, only delay the inevitable. Grim lowers himself onto the floor, ready to pounce onto that blotted monster that had now resorted to pulling itself on the carpet.

"PREFECT."

You choke back a scream of your own as your hand impulsively latched onto the book, throwing it onto the blot to no avail. The book only phases through the monster, and your back is now pressed against the corner. Grim yells at you, but you cannot register his words anymore. Instead, your breath is held in your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to wake up from this horrid nightmare.

—but the light that glimmered behind the shadow forces your eyes open, followed by a long gloved hand smiting through the monster. It wails, melting into an unrecognizable shape until it is cut in half once more. Your knees buckle as Grim shields you, nails buried onto the rough fabric of the carpet as the blotted monster is reduced to nothing.

In its place was a man with long legs, donned in a suit that never seems to meet its end. Perhaps if he stood at full length, the tuft of his hair could barely brush against the ceiling. His head was cast down, but you don't miss that grin that seems to be missing a tooth. He breaths out a dry laugh, brushing away the inky that seems to have splattered on his dark gloved hands.

He frightens you, and he knew it.

"Oh my! Did I scare you?" The stranger smiles, eyes obscured by the round shades that he wore. Your breath is stolen away as he takes a step forward, and Grim growls so quietly that you swear he is more lion than cat. The direbeast does not deter the long-legged man who had stretched out his hand for you to take.

Maybe it was the haze of exhaustion that suddenly took over you, or your poor judgement, but you find yourself lacing your digits onto his own, dragging your body up. The stranger grins, looking down on you as he bows slightly, pressing your knuckles against his cold chapped lips.

"Who are you?"

And the man's grin falters for a moment, only to be replaced by a content smile. He scares you, but you do not fear him.

"Skully J. Graves," He purrs, pressing his cheek against the warmth of your hand. "How I missed you, my dear."

Skully follows you like your own shadow, except he makes your true shadow appear taller than it should. You do not question his sudden attachment, nor do you address the slight discomfort you feel when he hovers over you as a lamp would while you read.

Grim is suspicious, and he had every right to be when the fellow claims to have met you in a distant past. It doesn't raise a flag for you, however, considering that you can't even recall the faces of those you promised to remember. Skully was the one who saved your life as well, and he didn't seem to have any ill intent at all.

You halt your steps as your eyes are trained onto a familiar door. You remember now as the flickers of a smaller direbeast rampaging through that door replays itself in your mind.

You do not recall ice encasing the doorknob which had been obscured with thorns. Barely brushing your fingertips over the cold substance, you hiss at the sensation.

"Can you melt the ice, Grim?" You ask, only to be replied with an upset whine. "No can do, Henchman. This doesn't look like ordinary ice." Grim's tail curls itself around your leg, tilting his nose up at the frozen doorknob. It drips, trailing from crystalline ice down into an inky puddle. "It's melting ink!" The direbeast hissed, and you shift slightly as the taller man crouched down.

Skully hummed, eyeing the obstacle with piqued curiosity. "How peculiar. The ice is infused with some sort of magic." He muttered, tilting his glasses down so his amber eyes lock onto your worried gaze. He takes a gloved hand to dip at the puddle of blot, much like a child would. "I suppose you will need someone who specializes in fire spells."

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. You can't imagine that Grim could melt it, and if Skully knew how to, he would have certainly done it by now. "We can come back to this later. I'm sure we can figure this out, somehow." You tell them, crossing your arms. A hand trails over your chin, and you knit your eyebrows in frustration. "But who did this?" The possibility of another person in this world is not lost to you, but the motive is clouded with mystery.

The tall man shrugged, a smile dancing across his dry lips. "I'd imagine someone didn't want that door opened." Your body does not stiffen as he dances his finger tips onto your shoulder, leaning closely into your ear like a tempting devil. "It leaves plenty to the imagination, don't you think?" Your nose crinkles, and Skully chuckles at your plight.

"What could the perpetrator possibly be hiding? A love letter? A dangerous weapon? A body?" Lips twisting into a frown, you whip your head to the side. "Skully!" You whine, all too uncomfortable with the idea of a corpse being on the other side of the door. The skeleton-like man grins, hands in the air as if he were innocent of a crime. "So many possibilities!"

You never even noticed that Grim had long departed from your side, not until you hear footsteps from the first floor.

Grim's voice is echoing and bouncing off the walls. "I'm telling you, the Prefect is here!" He cried out. "Quit your yapping! I heard you the first time!" Your eyes widened, ears registering that familiar voice. You can't even realize that your lips had suddenly curled up into a strained smile, flooded by a hazy memory of mischief. "Grim..." Blue. That voice is blue, and it sounds like clumsy yet gentle hands.

Your legs carry you to the stairway, and

"—tried using every key I could find. Even tried to pick the lock, but it wouldn't budge." Grim yowls in frustration, followed by another man's sigh. "We can try again later."

"Are you not listening to me?!"

You barely catch a glimpse of red hair, and there are two men at the bottom of the stairs. Seeing the standard Night Raven College Uniform seems so uncanny on them, not when their faces had long outgrown their youth. You know them now, and your heart finally stills.

The redhead runs a frustrated hand through his hair, turning around as the direbeast cries for attention. "Grim, look. We'll check the Prefect thing out after a nap, so calm do—" Finally, he sees you at the top of the stairs, along with your wide-eyed expression that had long wormed its way into his heart so long ago.

He looks upon you as if you came from a distant dream.

"Ace," It is your uncertain voice that catches his companion's attention. Quickly now, the dark haired man looks upwards and gasps. That dumbfounded look of his only served to coax a nervous yet warm laugh from you. "Deuce." You whisper, a hand creeping up to your mouth to conceal the way you threaten to cry on the spot.

You remember now—

"Prefect." Ace breathes out, unwilling to believe it is a ghost that called out his name.

"Prefect!" Deuce cried, relief evident in his voice as he rushes up the stairs with reckless steps.

—and so do they.

Unbeknownst to you, the key glows softly within your pocket.

TAGLIST: @jjsmeowthie @deviious @hellfirestarter @thatpersonuouknow @knorreine @nerenda @goths4gambit @ghostlysyntaxed @minkyungseokie @daeda21 @red1sg0n3 @hatsumekannazuki @driftaway27 @alienlatteinspace @michtellch @loyalkatniss

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #skully j graves x reader #skully x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #skully j graves #skully #ace trappola #deuce spade #seeking dreamlight #viaviavie writes

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shaunamilfman · 12 days ago

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i almost do [2]

pairing: Shauna Shipman x f!reader summary: The Shuana interlude. Shauna wasn't sure why she did what she did. Panic, rage, maybe there was no reason at all. Either way, she wasn't doing well. note: trying my hand at a shauna pov. Masterlist

Shauna hadn’t been frantic when she started looking for you. Not at first.

No, she was far more concerned with proving to you once and for all that you can’t just outsmart her like that. Not out here. Not anywhere. She searches the perimeter of the camp high and low, fueled by nothing but rage and growing resentment.

She even gave in to a stupid urge to look under a larger-than-average rock. Shauna wasn’t at her best right now, clearly. Someone had given Kodiak that knife, and Shauna was certain she knows which of the other girls was responsible. It has to be Nat and her gaggle of idiots. They walk around the camp like she can’t hear them whispering and laughing behind her back. Whatever. She can find them later.

What really matters is finding you. Not Nat. Not Mari. Not the girls who thought they could ever escape what they have become out here. You.

You don’t get to betray her like that. You don’t get to choose them. Not after she let you in. She swore to herself that she would never let herself be vulnerable like that again after her, then you came along all pathetic and horny at the sight of her knife, and she had let you slip through the cracks and find a place in her life—in her hut.

But then that first snowflake fell on her shoulder, wet and cold and undeniable in its surety. Shauna freezes, barely daring to move. She brushes it off her shoulder, almost hoping, but then another replaces it, and another, and another. It was officially winter again.

She remembered the last time snow had fallen out here. The utter silence of it, broken only by her frantic screams as she tried desperately to shake Jackie awake. Her cold, pale skin already had ice stuck to it by the time Shauna found her. She remembered screaming and begging for something to save her. For anything.

Even just the sight of it after so long without it was enough to stop Shauna in her tracks, something terribly like fear rising up in her throat and making each breath feel like a battle as she scours the woods around the camp for you.

“Where are you?” She hisses under her breath, trying not to sound scared. Trying, like that’s ever worked for her. But the fear has already settled so deeply inside her that she couldn’t manage that even if she tried. It wasn’t just snow, not anymore. It was a warning, one that she hadn’t been awake to see the first time. Shauna wasn’t stupid: she won’t fall for the same thing twice. Fuck you, Wilderness.

She looks everywhere she can think of: all your favorite hookup trees, the stump where she’s caught you sitting around daydreaming about air conditioning, even his grave. You are nowhere to be found, and she’s never wanted to see your stupid irritating face more. If she could just see that you’re okay, even if you did betray her tonight, she thinks she could forgive you for it.

But there’s nothing. No footprints. No wide-eyed stare before you inevitably called her an asshole. Maybe something worse. She will let you have that tonight as long as you’re there to say it to her. It was so hard to look in the dark. Sure, her eyes have grown used to it enough to run around without much trouble, but it took so much longer to scan every inch of her surroundings.

Shauna finally broke out into a run, screaming your name once or twice—she lost count—all to no avail. She couldn’t feel like that again. She couldn’t.

She couldn’t.

Shauna wasn’t angry anymore. She almost forgot that she had ever been in the first place. How could she be angry? She was terrified, and wasn’t that a change. It’s been a long time since she’s felt anything that strongly, but there wasn’t much time to reflect on that at the moment. Not that she would reflect on it at a later time either.

Where are you.

Where. Are. You.

You weren’t anywhere, and that just wasn’t fair. Even if you had gone off somewhere to sulk after your little temper tantrum earlier, she should still be able to find you now that she’s gone looking. You should be easy to find. Those moods of yours that you get in are somewhat predictable, even if she only notices after she’s already crossed whatever imaginary line you’ve drawn in the dirt.

Predictable in your moods and hiding spots. There were only so many places that you could go after all, and Shauna has already looked everywhere you conceivably could have gone. She wasn’t usually one to chase after you, knowing that you usually make your way back to her if she just waits long enough, but she knows where the spots are if only to avoid them. Shauna doesn’t want you to think she’s looking for you after an argument, after all.

That left only an uncomfortable conclusion, that maybe you had gone and gotten yourself lost without her. Normally it wouldn’t matter much to her. Even Mari had managed to survive a few days off by herself, and she was Mari, so you should be more than capable of taking care of yourself. She wouldn’t let you follow her around like you did if you were completely useless.

But it was winter now, and you went and got shot in the shoulder of your dominant arm. Could you even manage to start a fire to keep yourself warm without it? You certainly struggled with the simplest things lately: tying your shoes, buttoning your pants, even eating.

The injury has made you more than a little useless lately, but she just can’t bring herself to push you away because of it. She’s even found herself kneeling down to tie your shoes like it wasn’t the epitome of the way Jackie had always made her feel about herself—small and at her beck and call.

Wanted. Needed.

And she did it with a smile, even if it was mostly sarcastic as she poked fun at you for it. It wasn’t something she likes to think about. Now that she has what she’s always wanted—power—she has no need for you.

Yet, here she was out looking for you in the middle of the night by herself. If you went and got yourself killed, she would never forgive you.

Shauna herself wasn’t immune to the chill either, running around in the first snow of the season in nothing more than what she was sleeping, or not sleeping, in. The thin fabric clung to her, already a little damp from a mix of sweat and falling snow. Her fingers were so cold she could barely feel them, a stinging numbness that made her hyperaware of the chill. The wind stings her face as she runs, cutting at any exposed part of her body.

If she was cold, than you must be…

There was no point in asking the others to go look. They wouldn’t help her. Shuana knows that. She wasn’t exactly winning any popularity contests lately, not that she ever did when she was in her shadow either. Especially not after she’s made everyone stay behind. They just didn’t get it. None of you could ever go back. But more importantly, no one was going to jump at the chance to go running around with her in the snow in the middle of the night.

Only, it wasn’t just her, was it? Wouldn’t they help you? They have to help you. You were funny, right? She was usually too busy scowling at Gen for laughing so loudly at your jokes to pay them much attention, but you've made her laugh before.

You make yourself useful all the time. Certainly more than Mari does, and they don’t seem to mind her most of the time. You even share some of your jerky with the other girls even if you know Shauna’s going to yell at you later for it.

She’s been looking long enough that she knows she won’t be able to find you on her own. That wasn’t something she would normally be able to admit, even to herself, but this was you. Maybe she was angry at you for being so stupid with Hannah, but angry enough to let you die? Angry enough to be the one who kicked you out of her hut the night before snow fell?

No. Not that angry.

The run back to the camp felt like seconds, but she knows it must have been at least ten minutes. Shauna curses under her breath—she was wasting time. She skids to a stop in front of Nat’s hut, not even bothering to announce herself before she’s storming in to talk to Nat only to find that Nat wasn’t even there. You were fast asleep on the cot, almost dead to the world. But that wasn’t helpful; she needs Nat to–

She stares down at you as the realization sets in, feeling a relief she hasn’t felt in at least a year. There you were, cuddled under one of the blankets they managed to save from the cabin before it burnt down.

Dead to the world, but not dead. Breathing slow and deep with your hair mused from where it was pressing against your makeshift pillow, lips slightly parted as your chest rose and fell with each breath.

Asleep. Asleep and not out with those girls. Asleep and so blissfully unaware that Shauna has even been betrayed in the first place. God, was she smiling? That was so embarrassing. She should stop.

She doesn’t—can’t.

Shauna can see your breath as it leaves your mouth, fogging up in the chill of the night. You were safe, but you’re still cold. She debates it for less time than she would admit to before she slips her flannel off her shoulders, silently wrapping it around you over the blanket. It probably won’t do much, but the thought of you sleeping alone and cold was enough to make Shauna’s heart speed up.

Because she has to imagine you sleeping alone if she’s going to walk back to her hut without you. Nat would be a gentleman and sleep on the floor, right? That’s what she tells herself. She wants to wake you up and make you tell her that you’re okay, but the thought of you looking at her again like you did this afternoon is enough to shake that from her mind.

She stands there in the door of the hut for a while just staring at you before she silently turns and walks back to her own hut. Nat’s watching her from by the fire, sitting on the ground with her knees hugged to her chest with eyes that looked dead. There’s a complicated look on her face that she doesn’t put any words to as she watches Shauna enter her own hut.

…

Shauna stares aimlessly at your side of her cot, the side you haven’t slept in since the night prior. Has it really only been a day? Your shirt is clutched in her fist like it meant something. It doesn’t, of course; she just doesn’t have any gloves, and it keeps her hands warm. A convenient warmth that just happens to smell like you. Maybe there were better things that she could use, even just stuffing her hands under her arms, but they weren’t as conveniently available.

Yeah, that was it.

But she knows that some people might draw conclusions from it that she knows aren’t true, which is why she quickly stuffs it beneath a blanket as she hears shuffling footsteps make their way toward her hut. She steels her face, trying not to rub at her eyes again despite the rising urge in her chest. The cold had gotten to her earlier, bringing stinging tears to her eyes for far longer than she was comfortable with.

She never remembered last winter feeling this cold, but the cabin was probably warmer. There was more room for those biting winds to get through now, especially when Shauna didn’t have anyone around to keep her warm. Shauna has always run hot anyway. Everyone that’s ever shared a bed with her complained about that until it got a little cold outside.

Shauna swallows hard as the steps come to an abrupt stop right outside the entrance of her hut. There’s something in her chest she doesn’t want to name in fear of the disappointment that will come at the realization. But maybe you couldn’t sleep last night either.

Maybe you had forgiven her for what she did yesterday, no matter how sure she had felt in that moment as she reached behind her. Her fingers wrapping around nothing but empty air had almost been a relief until she had caught sight of that knowing look on your face. That hurt and just the smallest amount of fear. Fear of her. Shauna felt cheated when she saw that. You had promised.

Still she snarks, “What, you lost?”

Whoever is standing there is silent for a stretch too long before they answer. Just long enough that she knows for certain it wasn’t you. You are many things, but even you couldn’t resist the urge to rise to her challenges when the two of you have been arguing. The disappointment comes, just like she was bracing for.

That kind of thing has become achingly familiar to her out here.

She doesn’t say anything else, just waits for whoever is brave enough to come bother her to speak, her throat tight and her fists clenched beneath her blankets. This was good. Shauna has been itching for a fight since she saw you with Hannah yesterday, and she’s not too picky on who it’s with. It was hand-delivered to her. Isn’t she lucky?

It feels even better when Nat’s familiar boots peak around the entrance before she ducks in.

Shauna sits up, feeling her heart speed up in excitement as she moves up and onto her knees. She would’ve gotten all the way to her feet if not for the way Nat holds her hands up placatingly.

Nat’s face says there are things she would much rather be saying to Shauna; her jaw is clenched so tight it must ache from the effort of holding it back. Her eyes don’t hold anything back, though. Sharp and full of judgement that Shauna feels was hard-won. And the sheer exhaustion in the set of her shoulders that Shauna can’t bring herself to care about.

Shauna hates that restraint. Hates Nat for rubbing it into her face. She can practically hear the words Nat must be thinking: if you could keep your mouth shut, maybe you wouldn’t be alone. Maybe you wouldn’t have left. Or maybe she’s thinking about you. About how she’s the one keeping you warm every night now that you’ve vacated her bed.

She smirks back at Nat, staring her down and daring her to say what she’s so obviously thinking. Shauna wishes she would just say them. Just pick that fight so that Shauna didn’t have to burn the last bridge she has to you by herself. She wants it so badly that she would even let Nat get a few punches in before she starts fighting back.

But all Nat does is stand there. All she needs is a little help from Nat, an excuse to not be the bad guy for once, but it seems like she helps everyone but Shauna.

“It’s cold,” Nat says slowly, an attempt at carefully choosing her words that does nothing but piss her off.

Shauna just stares back at her. Finally, “No shit. Did you walk all the way over here to point out the fucking obvious?”

Nat lets out a put-upon sigh as she pinches the bridge of her nose before glancing at one of the suitcases in the corner. Your suitcase. Her shoulders rise defensively as she crosses her arms over her chest, feeling surprisingly small. The implication of it makes her feel exposed in front of Nat of all people.

“She wants her suitcase?” Shauna asks, her voice hollow. She already suspects the answer, but she needs to hear it all the same.

It probably shouldn’t blindside her as much as it does. Every sign pointed to you leaving her for good, but a part of her refused to believe it until now. It was just a fight. It was just a fight. As much as Shauna’s been trying to reassure herself of that, it doesn’t make it true.

It was winter again.

Shauna was alone again.

Nat nods like the question doesn’t hold as much weight as it clearly does. Shauna’s angry now. At you, at Nat, at herself. But it was easier to be mad at Nat, so she focuses on that.

“Tell her to come get it herself.”

“She doesn’t want to,” Nat says. Like it’s that simple.

“She doesn’t want to do a lot of things,” Shauna says stubbornly. You’re always like that. She would be damned if you were going to leave her without having the courage to look her in the eyes.

“Jesus, Shauna. Do you think I would be here if I didn’t have to?”

That’s the thing. No one comes to Shauna if they don’t have to. No one but you.

Shauna scoffs. “What, is she afraid of me?” The words are meant mockingly, too smug to sound casual. But then she catches the growing look of pity on Nat’s face and comes to an uncomfortable realization.

You’re afraid of her. Not in a way that she might like you to be if you have to at all. Like a force to be reckoned with. You’re afraid of what she might do to you. The kind of fear that comes from a certainty that Shauna is capable of hurting you. Is she? Shauna isn’t sure, but some days she can’t even recognize herself anymore in that girl she was.

She’s grown to value your thoughts lately, and part of that has to be trusting your judgment, right? Even when she doesn’t want to. Especially when it hurts. Everything hurts out here, and it was Shauna’s fault for being stupid enough to think she could forget it. The only one she has to blame is herself, and isn’t that a cold comfort? That’s the only kind she has.

Shauna stiffens her jaw, staring absently at the wall across from her so that she doesn’t have to see the look on Nat’s face anymore. Shauna was done giving those girls a front-row seat to every bad thing that’s ever happened to her out here. Nat didn’t get to see how badly that gutted her.

“Fine,” Shauna mutters. “I was going to use it to stuff the holes in the hut anyway.”

A lie. A stupid one, given the shirt stuffed just out a view, still warm from how tightly she had been clutching it just minutes before. But the lie was all she had.

All she has left, too, as Nat silently grabs the suitcase and drags it behind her like a chore she had the misfortune to get.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader

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27spoons · 3 months ago

Text

CRUSH | ACT TWO: RIBS

pairing: natalie scatorccio/reader

summary: You showed up to the "get-together" Natalie invited you to. It was, apparently, more than just a "get-together".

wc: 5350

warnings: reader drinks alcohol, mentions of drug usage, lowkey reader getting a little obsessive

a/n: i have angst in my pants!

ao3 / masterlist

PREVIOUS - NATALIE'S INTERLUDE ONE

NEXT - ACT TWO: IF YOU'RE TOO SHY (LET ME KNOW)

You shouldn't be here.

You aren't sure how many times that thought has echoed inside your head since your mom dropped you off at your friend's house a few blocks away, and how many more times you've reiterated the same thought since you started walking toward the location of the party.

According to Google Maps (because Natalie sent the geographical coordinates to it, like a normal person would), it's on an empty lot in some abandoned industrial sector.

You can see and hear the party from a block away. Because… it is a party. It is not just a 'friendly get-together', or whatever Nat had said. It is a party. And you feel out of your depth by a long shot. Realistically, you could turn around and leave. It's not like anyone has seen you yet, and it's not like you even know anyone here besides Natalie.

…but then you would need to walk back to your friend's house. Call your mom. Ask her to come pick you up already. Explain why you…

Ugh.

You walk into the industrial lot, partygoers surrounding you on all sides, music blasting off of someone's phone that's hooked up to some dollar store Bluetooth speakers.

The entire place reeks of shitty beer, cigarette smoke, cotton candy vape, and weed.

Yep. This is a high school party. You're half expecting to find someone hooking up in a bush somewhere.

Someone probably is. You'd rather not think about that.

You hug the lot's edges, weaving through clusters of people you vaguely recognize from school. However, you swear you see more than a few people who graduated, which is kinda weird if you're being honest, but maybe that's just the 'high school party' experience.

As you continue to walk the lot, you feel more out of place than ever. The music is somehow too loud and cheap simultaneously, distorting with every bass drop. You’re clutching at your phone like a lifeline, scrolling mindlessly just to look busy.

And then you see her.

You aren't surprised to see her surrounded by people. Nat's leaning up against a support pillar, a cigarette pinched between her fingers, and a lazy grin on her face as she says something that makes her friends—faces you vaguely recognize—laugh.

When her gaze flashes over to you, you feel a brief flicker of hope that she's about to wave you over to her friends, introduce you, invite you into her circle…

Yet, all she does is give you a small nod of her head, a slight raise of her bottle, and before you can even think to wave back, she returns to the conversation she was having with her friends.

You aren't sure why her ignoring you hurts the way it does, but you feel a slight sting of pain in your chest all the same. Did she really just invite you just to ignore you? You try and tell yourself that you're just overthinking things—she’s probably just busy with her friends—but that nagging feeling doesn’t go away.

You move yourself deeper into the lot, immersing yourself further into the party, hoping to avoid drawing attention to yourself by blending in with the crowds. A group of seniors—or maybe they've already graduated, it's hard to tell—pass by you, laughing loudly and overall being obnoxious, nearly drunkenly stumble into you. You sidestep them awkwardly, clutching your phone like you'd die without it as you attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

You find a busted folding table off to the side of the party, various different drinks, mixers, coolers, and cheap beers decorating its surface. You grab the least offensive-looking drink—a Pineapple Truly—and crack the can as you move to lean against a stack of wooden pallets, eyes searching the party for any sign of someone you know.

And, much to your unsurprise, you don't recognize anyone that you would actually know and would know you. The cool night air does little to ease the nerves twisting in your stomach, and you find yourself scanning the crowd for Natalie again. She’s nowhere to be seen.

Great.

The next time you manage to catch sight of Nat, she's walking right past you.

You're taking a sip of a (different) Pineapple Truly, trying to blend in and act like you aren't mentally freaking out. Leaning up against the pallets, you let your eyes scan the busy crowd. Occasionally, someone bumps into you or stumbles too close, and you shrink back further into the shadows.

Then, that person who stumbles too close ends up being Nat. Finally.

Natalie’s walking past you, her head turned to say something to someone trailing behind her. “Hey—” you start to call out, but she doesn’t stop. She doesn’t even look your way.

Oh.

You clear your throat and take a step back, hiding yourself further, and squeeze your can just tight enough to hear it crinkle under your grasp. It's not like you expected her just to drop everything and run over to you, but… something? Anything?

You sigh, down the rest of the drink in the can, and then toss it into a nearby trash bin. "Fuck me." You murmur to yourself as you cross your arms.

“Hey.” A voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up to see a girl with a sunlit warmth to her skin and dark, wavy hair with a soft smile. You vaguely recognize her—she plays on the soccer team. You're pretty sure she comes from money; if her outfit is any indication. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“Oh, uh…” You fumble for a response, shifting awkwardly. “Natalie invited me.”

The girl raises an eyebrow, her smile turning a little knowing. “And you’re just… hanging out here? Not with her?” She glances in Nat's general direction before turning back to you, "What's up with that?"

You shrug, unsure how to answer that without sounding pathetic. “Good question. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” A sigh escapes your lips, and you wish you had another can of… well… anything, honestly, to drown out the noise in your head.

She laughs lightly, her gaze flicking back toward the crowd. “Don’t read too much into it. Nat’s… well, Nat. If she invited you, she wanted you here. That’s just how she is.”

"Doesn't mean it feels good." You murmur, kicking at a discarded cigarette butt on the ground below.

A sympathetic smile graces her face, "She's a complicated person," a beat, "try not to overthink it." The way she adds the last part makes it sound like she knows something you don't, and honestly? She probably does.

"Easier said than done." You sigh and glance out over the crowd with her, "I don't know, I guess I was just…" You stop yourself, realising that talking to a total stranger about this probably isn't the best idea. "Uh… any advice?"

"On dealing with Natalie?" She laughs humourlessly, and you get the sense she wants to say something really sarcastic, but when she sees the look in your eyes, she pauses and sighs. "Just… take your time. She's complicated. And there really isn't advice I can give you. Just…take most things she says with a grain of salt." A beat, "You'll know what I mean when it happens."

"When it happens?" You shake your head, slightly confused, "What does that mean?"

The girl shrugs, opens her mouth, then turns her head in the direction of someone yelling, "Lottie!" And… she's off without giving you an answer to your question.

What the fuck did you get yourself into here?

Another twenty minutes of passive-aggressive house music and shitty alcoholic beverages pass before you finally see Nat again.

She's standing in front of a steel drum fire with some lanky goth kid and this dorky-looking guy with curly hair, staring into the fire with a blank expression on her face.

Which is slightly concerning, but that's an issue to deal with at a later date and time.

But, hey. Might as well approach.

You run off to one of the tables and quickly grab a beer for her and another Truly for yourself before darting back out in her direction, and—

God-fucking-dammit.

You swear this girl must be a fucking poltergeist or something with how she just fades in and out of crowds. It could be considered an art, really.

You grumble under your breath in frustration, downing both the beer (which you don't really enjoy the flavour of, but whatever) and the Truly within seconds of each other before tossing both containers into a nearby trashcan.

You aren't gonna sit around for the rest of the party, waiting to talk to the one person that you actually know here.

Grabbing one more Truly for the road, you decide to leave.

When you hear it, you're halfway across the lot, clusters of people slowly thinning out to nothing.

"PRINCESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" A loud, drunken voice slurs out, "WHERE YA' GOIN'?"

The exaggerated drawl and familiar pet name stop you in your tracks, jaw and fists immediately clenching in frustration. You really should just keep walking. Stand your ground. Prove you're angry! She spent the past two(ish) hours avoiding you! You're mad!

Which is exactly why you turn around to face the voice.

Against your better judgment, you glance over your shoulder, and there she is—Natalie Scatorccio, looking far too pleased with herself as she jogs over to you, the ends of her bleach-blonde hair catching the dim glow of the fire behind her.

"Home." You reply flatly, crossing your arms in a subconscious act of putting up walls. "Thought I'd leave since the person that invited me didn't seem to care too much if I was here or not." The words come out petulant, and you honestly sound like a middle school girl who just found out her friends had a sleepover and didn't invite her, but whatever.

"Wait, what?" Nat shakes her head, seemingly sobering up at the mention of you leaving. "Wh— s-seriously?" A nervous laugh escapes her as she steps forward, "But… wait… hold on." Another nervous laugh, "We haven't even talked—"

"You've barely even acknowledged me all night, Nat." You cut her off with a murmur, crossing your arms defensively, "Like… you walked right past me earlier! What am I supposed to assume?"

The blonde opens and closes her mouth for a moment, brain apparently lagging a little as she tries to come up with a response, "I… I was just…" She runs a hand over her face, "Fuck."

When her hand drops, you see exactly why her response time is so slow. It's not that you know what she's taken, but based on the way her pupils are dilated and how spaced out she seems, it's glaringly apparent she's done more than just drink while she's been here.

"Princess." She sighs, "Look. I wasn't… I wasn't doing it on purpose, okay? I've just…" A groan, "I've been busy all night, is all."

"Seriously?" You murmur back, "That's it? That's the best you can come up with? That you were busy?"

"Well—!" She throws her hands in the air in frustration, although she looks more upset at herself than you. "Whatever. Look… just… whatever. I was leaving, anyway. I'll come along with you."

"No." You say, shaking your head, "I don't need to babysit you on my walk back."

"Babysit?" Nat scoffs, "I'm fucking capable of taking care of myself."

"Are you?" You don't have much experience with drugs, but you get the gist of what it means to be under the influence. "Because it took you a solid ten seconds to figure out a response to me calling out the way you acted tonight."

She can't dispute that, it seems.

You huff and turn around, "Whatever, Natalie."

"No, w-wait, hey—!" The sound of someone stumbling over their own feet from behind you, "I… look…" She falls into step beside you, "Come on. Let me make it up to you." Her words are slightly slurred, and her gait growing more unsteady with each step.

"No." You reply flatly, still walking away as if you were a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"Dude." Nat groans, continuing to walk beside you. "Please? I don't… fuck. I feel bad. Please."

Despite yourself, you slow down slightly. "And what exactly would I be doing with you?"

Nat lights up at that, "Uh. Right. Okay. So. I was thinking… I could… just… walk you home? Or something? I don't… I don't know where you live or anything, but I'm assuming it's far from here? And, uh, I could walk you back?"

You shake your head, "Don't you live in the trailer park? That's a pretty long walk from my place. I don't want to—"

The blonde waves her hands frantically and cuts you off, "No! No! Seriously. It's fine. I want to walk with you. I don't care if I have to take a two-hour detour, okay? I wanna walk you home." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the same switchblade you saw her with the day you two went on the convenience store run and shoots you a small grin, "I can be your bodyguard for the night?"

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. "Am I going to regret this?"

A dumb, stupid grin consumes Nat's face. "Nope!" She pops the 'p' excitedly, " You will not—" She trips over her own feet, nearly faceplants, catches herself on a streetlamp, stumbles back into a trash can, and then drops her knife as she almost falls into said trash can.

You stop and turn around, staring at her unblinking like you can't believe that just happened. And you can't. Talk about comedic timing.

"You have to be fucking with me." You murmur as you look down at Nat, lying there in a Family Guy Death Pose. "We haven't even begun, and you've already—"

"Getting up!" She murmurs, scrambling to put her hands on the trashcan to boost herself to a standing position. "Up! I'm up!" She brushes her pants off and looks around frantically for her knife, "Did you, uh, see where—"

You nod at where it's lying in the grass next to the sidewalk, "I'd also see if you can find your brain cells while you're down there." The words come out in a quiet mumble under your breath, "Maybe your… soberness while you're at it."

Nat waves her hand dismissively at the added comments, "Yeah, yeah. Get it out now, Princess." She grumbles as she slips the knife into her waistband, "Now, come on." She hops back up to full height (which, to be fair, wasn't much taller), "I've got a princess to escort home."

You wish you could fight the smile that appears on your face at her words, as cheesy as they are. "You're so dumb." You murmur out, but you swear she can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks. "I better not have to carry you."

The girl—seemingly in a much better mood—shakes her head. "Nah. Promise I won't put you through that. At least…" She leans in slightly, "Well, unless you want to carry me?"

You shove her shoulder to push her back from your proximity, "Fuck off. I don't want to carry your drunk ass home."

"Drunk?" She laughs, stumbling a bit from your shove, "I've only had two beers, thank you very much."

Based on your narrowed, suspicious glance, she knows you think that's a lie. "I'm serious. Two beers. Just two."

"Fine." You roll your eyes as the two of you walk side-by-side, Nat seemingly instinctively standing on the side closest to the street, "But you obviously did something else."

An undignified, incredulous snort leaves her, "What makes you so sure of that? You even been around a party with drugs?" A beat, "Oh, right. You've barely partied at all."

Although the words are teasing, they also hurt slightly for reasons you can't properly name. A lack of the assumed 'high school experience,' maybe? Either way, there's a small stinging in your chest you choose to ignore for the time being. "Your pupils are wide enough that you can barely see the green in your eyes, for starters." You huff, "It took you, like, ten seconds to come up with a response earlier. You were tripping and stumbling all over—" You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a frustrated exhale, slowing down slightly. "I know I'm not streetsmart, like you. But I'm not completely useless. I know what it looks like when someone is high, Nat."

Nat sighs and slows down with you, pushing a hand through her hair. "It's not like… I took something…" She sighs again, "It was just a party drug. Just some special K."

"Special… K?" You say, confused. "Like… the cereal?"

Nat has to stop herself from face-palming, "The… cereal? Really? No, obviously, it's not the cereal, dumbass." She rolls her eyes, but a grin twitches on her lips at the teasing comment, "Fucking… K." A beat, and when you still don't understand, she swallows and glances around for a moment before mumbling out a "ketamine."

"Ketamine?!" You stop walking, turning to face her, "What?! A fucking horse tranquillizer—!"

She clamps her hand over your mouth, "Jesus Christ! Did you want the entire fucking neighbourhood to hear?!" She glances around properly this time, checking to ensure no one overheard your little outburst, "Yes! Okay? But, like, the dose you take at parties is hardly the same as the dose that gets used to fucking… K.O horses! It's not the first time I've done it, alright? It probably won't be the last! But I'm fine! You don't need to fucking act like I just confessed I was shooting up or some shit!"

"Have you?!" You mumble against her palm, to which she starts shaking her head rapidly.

"No. I've done a lot of shit to my body, but everything's been through the mouth or nose, alright?" A beat, and when she's sure you won't start screaming again, she lowers her hand. "'s not like I do it by myself, alright? It's only ever at parties with friends. People I trust to buy from." And, for added measure, "Don't need you worrying about me. Alright, Princess? I'm…" She hesitates, choosing a word to fit the situation, "Careful. Okay? I'm careful."

"You say that, but you never really know—"

"I don't need your ass getting all over me about this, okay?!" Nat snaps, cutting you off. "Say whatever drug bullshit PSA you need to, but I'm not gonna fucking stop using it when I need—uh, want to, alright?!"

You almost open your mouth to respond to that, snap back at her and raise your voice, but by some grace of God, you don't.

Pinching the bridge of your nose and taking a step back, "Fine." You sigh, "Whatever, Nat. Do your…" You gesture at nothing, "Drugs. Do your fucking drugs."

"Oh, get off it." Nat scoffs, "Acting that you're soooooo much better than me because you're all straight cut and innocent."

The assumption and the anger in her tone cause you to step back, swallowing down a lump of… something in your throat. "You know I wasn't even thinking that, Nat." You murmur, hurt lacing the words. "I'm just—"

"I don't need you to be worried about me. I don't fucking need—"

"I get it, Nat!" You cut her off, "You don't need anyone worrying about you. Or caring about you. Or even being friends with you. I get it. But I can't help that I care about people, okay?! You just happen to be a person!"

Nat opens and closes her mouth uselessly a few times, trying to formulate some sort of response to your comment but failing to come up with one that wouldn't just be her repeating what was already said.

Eventually, "Didn't ask you to care." The blonde grumbles, crossing her arms pettishly. But… she doesn't seem to have a proper rebuttal to your claim, letting the two of you fester in the uncomfortable silence that's accumulated.

A few moments pass in that awkward tension before Nat scuffs her combat boots on the pavement below, "Look, Princess, I…" She uncrosses her arms and runs a hand through her hair, refusing to meet your eyes. "Look. I appreciate the concern, yeah? I just… I don't need or want it, okay?" Then, under her breath, "Hardly worth caring about like that, anyway."

"Nat, c'mon…" You murmur back, taking a careful step toward her, "I…" But the way she looks genuinely uncomfortable at the idea of someone worrying about her makes you hesitate.

You haven't known her all too long, but you get the idea she's never had anyone look after her. You may not get it, and you'll never be able to understand what that was like properly, but you can't help the way your heart aches at the thought.

Maybe the walls run higher and deeper than you initially thought they would.

"C'mon." You murmur, nodding off in the direction of your house, "I was promised armed protection on my walk home, wasn't I?"

Nat looks back up at you, and a small, barely perceptible smile makes its way onto her face, "Yeah, uh, yeah. I did. You were."

"Then let's go. Don't have all night." With that, you turn off to start walking and hoping she'll follow.

She does.

It's like Nat said. If they want to follow you, they will.

"So, uh, where do you live?" Nat tries after a few minutes of you two walking in silence, "You said it was away from the trailer park, and we're heading east, so… Willow's Court?"

"Oh, uh," You blink a few times in shock, "No, but it's right next to it. Uh, Woodsmere Crescent?"

Nat nods a few times, then realises it probably sounds weird that she just… knows the names of all the neighbourhoods on the east side of town, "Yeah, uh, Shauna lives in Willow's Court. So… you just sorta learn the general area."

That… makes sense, you suppose. Either way, you decide not to push that matter further, "You… hang out with her a lot, then?"

Her nose scrunches in response to that question, "Not really. Just end up going by if I get a ride home from parties. Occasionally, we go over there for 'team-bonding exercises'—or whatever Jackie decides to call them that day—but I don't really spend a lot of time with Shauna. She seems okay, or whatever." Nat shrugs, stuffing her hands in the pocket of her leather jacket as she walks alongside you, feet stable on the solid ground. "Only really talk to Lottie and Van."

You blink at the name. Lottie. That was the girl that you talked to earlier—the one that told you not to overthink your interactions with Nat. You try not to let the slight surprise show on your face as you probe for more information, "You close with them, then? Lottie and Van?"

She briefly considers that before giving you a slight nod, "Yeah. Known Van my whole life. We joined the soccer team together back in middle school. Just ended up sticking with it."

"Hey, obviously, it worked out!" You nudge her with your elbow, "Starting Varsity. Gotta be in the sights of some scouts for colleges, right?"

An uncomfortable frown appears on Nat's face at the mention of 'college,' "Yeah, uh, I dunno. Think I accepted a while ago that my chance to get out of this shithole has passed."

That makes you frown back, "What do you mean?"

The blonde runs one of her hands through her hair, hesitating for a long moment with her reply. "It's…" A sigh, "Don't worry about it, yeah?"

You frown, and really want to find out what the fuck she means by that, but you can tell from the look on her face that pushing the topic would only make her mad.

Maybe one day.

Silence festers in the air between the two of you for a handful of blocks, and you more than regret bringing up the future. You suppose it makes sense. She probably lives on an 'if I survive this year' philosophy, never entirely thinking about the long-term consequences of her actions.

Eventually, Nat decides she can't take the awkward silence and again breaks it, "You gotta be smart though, right? You got colleges knocking on your doors? Maybe for your art?"

"My… art?" You glance at her, eyes widened. "It's… it's hardly good enough for college-level arts programs. Just something I do for fun."

Nat immediately shakes her head, "No… no, I've seen your work. It's good, dude. Like that's the stuff that belongs in art magazines or whatever. And you can't say it's just for fun when you take art classes."

Your face heats immediately at the compliment, and you find yourself stuttering over a meek 'thanks…' having not expected such high praise, especially from Natalie Scatorccio of all people.

This girl is… confusing. You've already determined she's got walls higher than China, but you've started to see the cracks forming in them. There are small, barely visible cracks, but some fractures in the walls nonetheless. There's that old adage about 'one step forward, two steps back,' but… you think you're making some progress. Slowly chipping away at the defenses she's built over time. Maybe you could—

"I think you could get out of this town." Nat murmurs, breaking the quiet (and your train of thought). "You got the brains and the talent. You could do it." Her words are surprisingly genuine, and you think she shocked herself at the admission, based on the way her eyes quickly dart to and from you.

"Thanks, uh, Nat." You murmur back, equally as flustered as she is. "Don't get a lot of compliments."

It's like a switch flips in her head at the follow-up comment and her entire demeanour changes. Nat walks vaguely closer to you as the pair of you travel down the sidewalk. "Don't get a lot of compliments?" She clicks her tongue, "Princess, who has been depriving you of that? If anyone deserves praise, it's gotta be you." A lop-sided grin rests easily on her face, a far cry from the girl who was just flustered while complementing your art.

"Uh." You swallow nervously, "Uh. Yeah, uh, thanks."

Natalie drops a low laugh at your fumbled reply, the sound causing an unexpected shiver to rake down your spine. "Anytime, Princess." A beat, "You know, I've got more where that came from. Started with your art and brains, let's move to…" She hums in mock thought, eyes tracing your form in a way that makes you feel something you aren't used to, "Your eyes." The blonde grins, and you both know that you were expecting her to say something far dirtier. "I like them. Like the colour."

It's a flat compliment; you know it as well as she does. "Thanks. You can thank my dad for the colour."

"Mm, got it from your dad, huh? What you get from your mom?" She leans in a little closer, "Anything specific?"

"Uh—" You fluster yourself further, "Uh… my, uh, hair colour?"

Her smile falters slightly at your response—or lack thereof—but she quickly recovers, "It's a nice colour. Rich. Something I could tangle my fingers in."

You almost trip over your own feet when she leans in a little closer to your proximity, "Oh, uh!" You catch yourself on the fence beside you, trying to play it off like you tripped over a rock. "Uh, wow, uh, t-thank you?" A nervous laugh escapes your lips, "I, uh, wash it regularly?"

Nat rolls her eyes at your continued failure to return her flirtations, even by the smallest amount but keeps pushing regardless. "What's your shampoo smell like?" She leans into your personal space, your breath catching at the sudden proximity. "Mm." You can hear her inhale, your heart caught in your throat, "I like it. Very… you."

You start walking a little faster down the sidewalk, mumbling out something you hope is similar to a sound of appreciation at the comment, face burning something fierce.

"Princess." Nat drawls with a low chuckle, "Don't act all shy on me now. What happened to the lady who was yellin' at me for 'ignoring' her, huh?" Another chuckle follows her words, and she takes some hurried steps to catch up with you. "Not ignoring you now, am I?"

"No, you aren't, uh, ignoring me anymore. That's, uh, for sure." You nervously rub at your arm, feeling increasingly flustered as the conversation continues. "And I, uh, appreciate you walking me home?"

A frustrated exhale escapes Nat, and she pulls back with a huff, murmuring something under her breath that you can't quite make out.

Admittedly, you feel a little bad that you don't—can't—return her flirting. But she stops her flirting at your apparent reluctance and leans away from you, hands back in her pockets. "Yeah, anytime." She grumbles out, causing you to sink further into yourself at the upset that laces her tone.

The following five minutes are spent in relative silence, the atmosphere far too uncomfortable for your liking.

You're almost relieved when your house comes into view, giving you an excuse to break the tension in the air. You point at your home, a simple brown duplex nestled beside houses that all look exactly the same. It's the type of house that lower-middle-class families would reside in.

"That's me." As you continue approaching the house, fishing the house keys out of your pocket, you say, "I, uh, I really appreciate you walking me home, Nat." Even if it got really awkward and uncomfortable halfway through, "You didn't have to. Especially this time of night."

Nat waves her hand dismissively, stopping at the edge of your driveway. "Don't mention it. Can't let a pretty girl walk alone at this time of night, yeah?" She shoots you a toothy grin, "Always need protection."

You roll your eyes at the comment and shove playfully at her shoulder, "Whatever, Burnout. Just know I appreciate it."

She gives you a grin and a nod, standing there with her hands in her pockets, staring at you like she's expecting something. "Anytime. And, for the record, I provide other services than just security." Nat leans in, a faint twitch of her eyes as she moves further into your vicinity.

With a strained, nervous laugh, you take a step back and hold up your house key, "We will have to… talk about that another time! Gotta… gotta get inside! Parents, curfew, all that fun stuff. Haha! Thanks again!"

You turn around and briskly walk up the driveway, and when you reach the door, you see Nat still standing there out of the corner of your eye. Hesitation seizes your form momentarily at her continued gaze, and for a moment, you almost debate—

Nat lets out a huff, turns, and walks off in a different direction. She fishes a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, grumbling something unintelligible.

Watching her walk off a moment longer, you feel regret starting to tug at the back of your head, so you quickly slide the key into the lock and open the door with a shaky breath, heart beating a little too quickly for your liking.

When you push into your house, the living room is dark, and your parents have already gone to bed. As you discard your coat and shoes by the door, you let that feeling of regret wash over you. Should you have said something? Invited her in? Said goodnight? Hugged her? Kissed her?

Fuck.

Relationships are complicated, and you two still barely know each other. You can't help that you want to know her. You want to see behind those fucking walls. You want to see through the cracks in her mask.

You think you want Natalie Scatorccio.

That isn't a surprise, not really, but the way your brain accepts the thought is.

Holy shit, you want Natalie Scatorccio.

Well. Isn't that an interesting development?

a/n: does anyone actually read the notes I leave? i could be plotting world domination or confessing to heinous crimes in here. anyways I regularly think about how natalie saw misty while she was tripping on lsd in the pilot and then misty ended up killing her. wild. bro had a fucking 25 year early premonition

#nat scatorccio #natalie scatorccio #nat scatorccio x you #nat scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #ladles (fics/blurbs)#butter knives (sfw)#crush #from the cutlery drawer

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tropes-and-tales · 2 months ago

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Damsel in Distress

(Jake Seresin x F!Reader)

CW: Angst (sexual harassment); a bit of fluff.

Word Count: 1808

AN: A little interlude for the Jake girls.

AN2: This has not been edited in any way, shape, or form!

It’s a burden sometimes, being so handsome.

Jake knows he’d sound like a complete asshole if he ever said such a statement out loud.

Still, it can be a burden.

He wasn’t always handsome. Jake Seresin hardly even qualified as cute when he was a kid. Certain parts of his body seemed to grow out of sync with the rest of him, so he was fairly awkward for many of his pre-teen years. Ears that stood out from his head. Cornsilk hair too fine to do much other than lay flat on his scalp. Lopsided smile due to a crooked incisor.

But he evened out eventually. He grew into his ears. His hair darkened a bit and grew thicker. Pricey orthodontics fixed his wonky tooth. He shot up in height, put on muscle working at his uncle’s ranch, and the rest was history. He learned to wear his good looks like armor, and he learned that even just a bit of charm got him further than other men might get.

Still, it can be a burden.

For example, when he’s had a rough day at Top Gun and just wants to enjoy a beer at the Hard Deck without needing to be on. He gets tired sometimes of always being on, of being the guy with the megawatt smile and easy charisma, of being the guy to dazzle the single women on the prowl at the bar, of having all the innuendos and quips always at the ready. He gets tired of being Hangman, tired of being the impressive pilot in the perfectly tailored uniform. He gets tired of being the lieutenant, of being Seresin. Sometimes he just wants to be an anonymous man, and barring that, he just wants to be Jake. Sometimes he just wants someone to look at him—really see him—and just call him Jake.

“Get you another one?”

The voice breaks his reverie, and Jake looks up to see the bartender standing across from him. You are related to Penny somehow, some first cousin twice removed deal, and you take shifts at the Hard Deck when she’s short-handed.

The megawatt smile comes on automatically. “Sure thing,” he replies and slides his empty glass over the bar top to you, but you don’t simper at his grin. You only nod and pour him a beer in a fresh glass, set it down in front of him on a fresh napkin.

You never seem to be impressed by him, but you never seem to be impressed by any of the men (or women) who call the Hard Deck home. You’re all business; you’re polite to the customers, quick on a pour, a champ at tallying tabs in your head. You have a freakish ability to balance a laden tray of drinks, and you’re not afraid to step in when someone has partied too much. You’ve frog-marched more than one drunken flyboy out of the bar and waited until a sober friend came to bear them away.

Not that Jake wants to impress you today. He just wants to be alone. He just wants to sit at the bar, tucked away in the far corner, and sulk a little. Top Gun has been exhausting, and he’s not syncing with the back-seater they want him to fly with. He’s been nursing a low-grade headache for the past few days, and he could go home, but his apartment is sterile and depressing—

He feels the woman before he sees her. He feels her first because she leans against him, her tits blatantly pressed against his arm. It’s not a casual brush-by or an accidental stumble; she’s purposely pushing her chest against him, and Jake shifts and turns at the same time.

The megawatt smile comes on automatically. “Careful there, ma’am,” he says. He keeps the admonishment light by laying on his Texas accent. He takes in the woman as she pouts, then fixes him with a look that might aspire to coy if not for how drunk she is.

“Ma’am?” she asks, incredulous. Jake catches a whiff of her breath, and the alcohol fumes could peel paint off his plane. “Ma’am?”

“Now, I—”

“Do I look like a ma’am?”

He keeps the smile plastered on his face. “Miss, then. Apologies.”

The pout disappears, and she grins back at him. And she moves closer, presses the length of her body against him. “S’okay. Make it up to me. Buy me a drink.”

Jake chuckles, and he shifts away again. The woman is sweaty, and this close, he can see how drunk she is. Her makeup is smeared, and her eyes can’t quite focus on him. Her blinking is slow, but she compensates by widening her eyes, making her look owlish.

“I think you’ve had plenty of fun already,” he replies. He gets a leg braced on the floor and does an awkward scoot on his stool to gain a few inches away from her, but it lasts for all of a second.

“Not enough fun.” Another pout, but she’s on him again, stuck to him again, and Jake feels the tiniest tendril of panic. He hates being touched like this, hates when pushy women do this. He just wants a damned drink alone, and this woman reeks of booze—her breath, the sweat seeping from her pores—and she pressed against him, the slick grease of her sweat sliding against his bare forearm.

“We could have more fun,” she adds.

And then, a moment later, her hand finds him. Gropes at him blindly, her palm catching him high up on his thigh before she moves inward, and Jake grimaces, reaches to catch her wrist and stop her before—

She is jerked away, and Jake blinks at how fast you move. Faster than he ever saw you move before, but you’re right there. He didn’t even see you moving from behind the bar.

He blinks, turns on his stool to see the scene play out.

“You’ve had enough, and I believe the Lieutenant is not interested,” you tell the woman. You have one of her arms folded behind her back—the one that had been fumbling at Jake—and when the woman flails at you with her free hand, you catch her easily around her wrist and fold it behind her back too. It plays out like a cop perp-walking a criminal, and you start to maneuver her towards the exit.

“Fucking bitch!” the woman shrieks. “I’m a customer!”

“Not anymore,” you say, calm, but when you glance over at Jake, you tip him a nod and offer him a smile.

*****

It goes down with minimal drama. Penny finds the woman’s friends, also wasted, and a taxi is called. For ten, fifteen minutes, you stand by the Hard Deck’s entrance, arms crossed and glare fixed on the woman as she rants, fumbles for her vape, drops her vape, then rants some more.

Then the taxi arrives, and you’re back at the bar like nothing happened. You pour a fresh pitcher for Coyote and Fanboy, and then you turn back to Jake.

He plasters on that bright, perfect smile of his when he sees you. “Sorry about that,” he says.

You tilt your head. “Why are you apologizing?”

The smile stays set on his face. “Didn’t mean to make a scene.”

“You didn’t make a scene.”

The smile falters around its edges as he says, “I could’ve handled it.”

You take shifts at the Hard Deck to help your cousin out, and the money doesn’t hurt either. But a not-small part of you likes to people-watch; you like watching life play out in front of you. You learn a lot about people that way—the relationships that flourish and die at the bar, the petty grievances, the friendships. You notice everyone, take it all in.

You’ve noticed Jake Seresin, of course.

There’s something fragile to him that you wonder if anyone else sees. Something insecure. He hides it behind his good looks, his easy smile, his charisma. He has confidence in spades, sure, but he also seems to house a small, self-doubting part too.

Like that smile of his. He has more than one. He’s got a real, genuine smile that comes out easy enough. When he and his teammates are joking around, when they are circled around the piano and belting out some old standard as Rooster bangs on the keys.

He’s got a softer, smaller smile, and that’s usually reserved for Penny when she gently teases him about something.

He also has this smile that is pure artifice, the one on his face right now. It’s a brittle sort of armor, like a deflector shield that goes up automatically when that small, self-doubting part of him is in play. That smile is just a fraction too wide, a bit too stiff and fake.

“Why should you have to handle it?” you ask, and the smile falters a bit more at your question.

“She was just drunk…” He trails off, and there’s an edge of uncertainty in his voice. He must hear it too, because his eyes dart around to see who else might be hearing him. Like his patented Jake Seresin schtick, his uber-confident and cocky persona might be at risk of being found a fraud.

You lean against the bar, rock onto your toes to get closer to him. You stare at him until he turns and stares back at you, caught in the force of your gaze.

“If she were a guy and you were a woman, would you be so quick to shrug it off?” you ask.

“I don’t—”

“You don’t deserve to be groped.”

“That’s—”

“Even if you’re this tough airplane pilot, you know?”

That finally breaks the hold of that fake smile of his. It slides off his face and is replaced by a more natural, teasing one.

“Airplane pilot makes me sound like I fly a regional route for Delta,” he jokes.

“Probably better snacks than in a fighter jet though, right? Or does the military supply Sun Chips in their planes?”

He chuckles, and his smile shifts again. Now it’s softer, gentler. He shakes his head, and he looks down at the top of the bar where his hands are folded together. You think that this right here is probably the real Jake Seresin, the truest version of all the different facets of him, and probably the one few people get to see.

You knock the bar lightly in front of him until he lifts his gaze and looks at you again. You offer him a smile in return.

“Let me get you another beer, Jake. On me.”

And something makes his smile shift yet again: still soft, but broader, like you’ve said something incredible, though all you’ve done is offer him a free beer…and said his name.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #top gun maverick #tropes and tales

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dawns-beauty · 1 month ago

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Solstheim Interlude 1: The Elves of House Telvanni

Since I have roughly the same amount of mainland elves left to do as there are on Solstheim, I'm going to make every other post about my Solstheim elf designs. Just for some variety!

Anyways, this is gonna be a long one, so I'm hiding the details under a cut.

Elynea Mothren

I wasn't satisfied with her original hair, so here is an updated one.

Neloth

Lotsa little tweaks on my original design, maybe not that noticeable to anyone but me.

I did also come up with two additional hairstyle options, though: bald and Morrowind (bald without a beard.)

Talvas Fathryon

I wanted to make him look young (to match his voice.)

I really like how his ears and nose turned out

Also, I wanted to give him some distinctly Dunmeri robes (with myconic prosthetic), instead of College of Winterhold castoffs.

Varona Nelas

Varona got a few more Morrowind-y cultural touches, as well as some custom robes

I've also made some robe for her replacement, though I'm not sure how to make him wear them at the moment.

Ulves Romoran

Tel Mithryn's resident chef (once you snap him out of his trance.) I gave him some proper chef's clothing as well as a scarf.)

Ildari Sarothril

I haven't decided whether or not to cover all named, unique enemies, but I do like making spooky magic baddies (not that I blame Ildari one bit.)

#skyrim #skyrim mods #CoDB #children of the ash #my tamriel now

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p-seduonym · 17 days ago

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The Little Light That Got Lost (Part Ten)

A/N: Writing Constantine, even if it's just notes, was a little tough. If these don't feel very tied together, I'm sorry. I really want to get into Casey's perspective again, I just need to figure out how.

Taglist: @cheust, @i-simp-for-women, @goodsoup19, @143637-hrrm, @delias-stuff, @12nitled, @cutenessbun, @rinkydinkythinky, @trashlanternfish360, @bunbunbread, @daddysfangirls-dc, @justannie18, @moon0goddess

Part One

Part Two

Part 2.5

Interlude

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Gotham Colonial Watch Inquisition Record — Entry #47 Filed by: Deacon Elias Brewster, Gotham Parish Overseer Date: [March 2nd, Year Of Our Lord 1652]

In matter of the unnamed servant girl, of unknown parentage, previously in employ at the Wayne Household, I hereby submit an account of troubling reports and observations.

Several weeks past, Mr. Nathaniel Wayne declared his intent to take the girl to wife. This announcement was made without banns, and no council of elders was consulted beforehand. Furthermore, it was in the wake of the late Madame's passing. He claimed it was a deed of mercy—that her soul might be spared from corruption, her sins cleansed through union with a Godly man.

While some whispered misgivings, the people of Gotham Colony, held in esteem Mr. Wayne’s judgment, for he is a man of land and long-standing. The girl was known to keep to herself, speak in strange ways, and some say the babe in her care spoke her name before they spoke aught else.

The marriage was never seen, though it would be a grand ceremony. That day, she was gone. Mr. Wayne claimed she fled in the night, ungrateful for his kindness.

House servants report they did not see her leave. No shoes or cloak were missing.

One girl claims the white dress—Madame’s wedding garment—was taken from its chest.

Another says the child was found wailing in the upstairs wardrobe, their fingers clutching a veil of lace.

There are stories of scratching beneath the house. Of chill winds though the torches be lit. Of the air turning foul in the nursery.

When I inquired, Mr. Wayne bid me leave. He said I lack faith in redemption.

Yet I fear something buried. I fear the root of sin is not the girl.

— “Though the pit be sealed, the sin within shall rise.” — Ecclesiasticus

—E. Brewster

Field Notes – Constantine

Location: Gotham (Morwen Parish House / Wayne Estate Ruins)

Date: [REDACTED]

Don’t like Gotham. Never did. But when the dead start talking, I listen.

Got a call from Pennyworth—always dry as dust, but knows when to ring the bloody fire bell. Kid named Casey Wayne—descendant—been having episodes. Was seeing a shrink and talked about them. Night terrors. Sleepwalking. Drawings. Seeing dark figures.

Psychotherapy and hypnotherapy were done. Did nothing– shocker.

Did some digging. Found a journal. 17th century. Written by a servant girl. “Yaya.” No surname. No family. A ghost in the records—except she ain’t. She's anchored.

She saw the dead. Fed the baby. Took the beatings. Then the Master—Nathaniel Wayne—gets all holy and offers her marriage like a pardon.

Convenient, considering his wife, his child, and the governess all died in the same breath. Village probably needed someone to blame.

No one saw a wedding. But everyone felt it. That’s how hauntings start—not with blood, but with silence.

The cellar is still here. A basement now. Old brick. Cold as sin.

She’s down there, more than likely. Dressed in white. After trying to run.

And now, centuries later, she’s still watching over her babe. Problem is, the babe’s long dead. And Casey Wayne ain’t them.

She’s tethered. Protective. But warped. The kind of spirit that sings lullabies but could drag you into the floorboards.

Need to find what’s keeping her here. Body’s still under the estate, I’d bet my last cigarette. Or worse—part of her is.

Dealing with a ghost here, maybe more, could become a polter, trapped in a feedback loop of fear and mother’s love.

Next steps: — Locate the grave. — Unbind any circle. — Talk to the kid before she makes them hers for good.

One last thing: She didn’t ask to be a witch.

But they made her one anyway.

A/N: I have no idea what to write next, I'll be honest with you. It might be something with Constantine and Casey, but I'm not sure how I'll even format that. But I'll still try to get some work out for y'all.

#yandere blog #yandere #yandere core #yandere batfam #yandere reader #original character #yandere batfam x oc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily #ghost caretaker au #the light that got lost

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mcrdvcks · 5 months ago

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i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ interlude - i have questions

chapter summary: Logan tries to figure out how to move on from your death after Alcatraz Island in the years following.

word count: 2.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is kinda different from what i normally do, but i had this idea in my head. if anyone has ever read 'a series of unfortunate events' or watched the show on netflix (i highly recommend both) then you know lemony snicket (the author and narrator) always puts a quote about beatrice, the love of his life who he lost, at the start of every book. so instead, i put some quotes at the start of every time cut (there are only three very short drabbles, but i wanted to try my hand at it so this is not a required read for the series)

warnings/tags: sadness, angst, depression?, heavy drinking, mentioned blood loss

series masterlist - chapter 9 → chapter 11

you left too soon,

i wasn’t done loving you yet.

---

During the night Logan hoped for two different things: that he would go to sleep peacefully, without dreams of you, or that he would dream of you.

The mansion was unnervingly quiet. The students had adjusted to the absence of Charles, Jean, and Scott in ways only kids could—by moving forward. The classrooms still buzzed during the day, Ororo still led them with grace and determination, and Hank busied himself in his lab, pushing forward as if the cracks in the foundation weren’t there.

But Logan? Logan couldn’t move forward.

Not without you.

It had been months since Alcatraz, and every day was heavier than the last. He’d carried you back himself, refusing help even though every muscle in his body screamed against it. He’d stayed with you until the funeral, until the dirt covered the final trace of you. But even that couldn’t make him leave.

Now, the mansion felt like a ghost of what it had been when you were alive. The hallways didn’t echo with the same warmth, and he swore that every room still smelled faintly like you, even though he knew it wasn’t possible. Your classroom remained untouched, the pen you always twirled still resting on the desk where you’d left it, just like every other time you’d been too nervous to notice.

He couldn’t bring himself to enter it again.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed in the room you’d shared that last week before the battle. His elbows rested on his knees, a cigar burning out between his fingers. He stared at the floor, your name an unspoken ache in his throat.

Sleep wouldn’t come. It never did. Not since that night.

His head fell into his hands as he let out a shaky breath. Memories of your smile, your laugh, the way you’d said I love you before kissing him—those memories haunted him, louder and sharper than anything else. He carried you in a way he hadn’t been able to carry anyone else.

He felt your absence in every breath he took.

The bed creaked as Logan stood. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, its glow casting shadows across the room. Three in the morning. The kind of hour where the world felt still but not peaceful. His bag was already packed in the corner, and his boots were waiting by the door. He’d known tonight was the night—he couldn’t stay here any longer.

Logan lit the cigar between his lips, taking a slow drag before picking up the bag. The weight of it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. He made his way down the hall, pausing briefly outside your classroom. His hand hovered over the doorframe before he clenched it into a fist and moved on. He couldn’t open the door. Not now, not ever.

By the time he reached the garage, Ororo was there, leaning against one of the cars with her arms crossed. She’d always been perceptive, too much for her own good.

“You’re really leaving,” she said softly, not as a question but as a fact. Her tone wasn’t judgmental—just tired.

Logan nodded, tossing his bag into the truck he’d commandeered months ago. “Ain’t much left for me here.”

Ororo stepped forward, her brows furrowed as she studied him. “That’s not true, and you know it. The students need you, Logan. We need you.”

“They’ll manage without me.” He pulled open the driver’s side door, but Ororo reached out, her hand on his arm.

“Logan—”

He stopped, exhaling a breath full of frustration and something deeper. “Don’t try to stop me, ‘Ro. You know I can’t do this anymore.”

Her grip loosened, her hand falling to her side. She hesitated, searching his face for something—anything—that might change his mind. “She wouldn’t want you to leave.”

Logan froze, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the door. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Ororo didn’t flinch. “She loved you, Logan. She believed in you. If she were here—”

“But she’s not here,” Logan snapped, his voice breaking as he turned to face her fully. “She’s not here, and she’s not comin’ back. None of them are. So don’t stand there and tell me what she would’ve wanted. You don’t know.”

The air around Ororo shifted, the weight of his words settling heavily between them. She nodded once, stepping back. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I don’t know. But I do know that running won’t make it hurt any less.”

Logan didn’t respond. He climbed into the truck, slamming the door shut as he started the engine. He didn’t look back as he pulled out of the garage, the headlights cutting through the darkness like a blade.

The mansion disappeared in the rearview mirror, and with it, the life he’d tried—and failed—to build.

As the miles stretched on and the road unfolded before him, Logan felt the ring pressing against his chest like a curse. He pulled it out, letting it rest in his palm as his foot eased off the gas.

He’d carried it for more than a century, waiting for the right time. But the right time had come and gone six times over, and this time, there was no coming back.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He slipped the ring back into his pocket, where it would stay—like the memory of you, a ghost that would haunt him for as long as he lived.

He kept driving, the road endless and empty, each mile taking him further from the mansion but never from you.

---

“You can’t love someone unless you love

yourself first.” Bullshit.

I have never loved myself.

But you

Oh God, I loved you so much I forgot what

hating myself felt like.

---

Getting shitfaced at a bar was Logan’s routine nowadays. It didn’t matter where—dingy dives or polished joints—it all tasted the same after the fourth whiskey. The bartender at tonight’s hole-in-the-wall had finally kicked him out, muttering something about closing time. Logan didn’t fight him. He barely muttered a thanks before stumbling out into the cold night air.

The streets were quiet, empty except for the occasional car passing by. His boots scuffed against the pavement as he made his way back to the motel where he’d been crashing. It wasn’t much—a single bed, a bathroom, and a TV that barely worked—but it was enough for someone like him.

The whiskey hadn’t done its job. The buzz wasn’t strong enough to drown out the memories, and the quiet only made it worse.

Logan shoved open the door to his room, letting it slam shut behind him. He tossed his jacket onto the chair in the corner and sank onto the edge of the bed. His hands came up to his face, rough fingers dragging down as if he could wipe away the exhaustion. But it wasn’t just his body that was tired; it was everything.

He pulled off his boots, letting them drop to the floor with a heavy thud. The cheap mattress creaked as he fell back onto it, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. His hand found the chain around his neck, pulling the ring free from beneath his shirt. It dangled between his fingers, the light from the streetlamp outside casting faint glints against its surface.

The ache in his chest was a familiar one—sharp and relentless. He closed his eyes, gripping the ring tightly in his fist as if that could bring you back.

It never did.

---

It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed of you.

In the dream, you were there—alive, warm, and smiling at him like you always had. You sat cross-legged on the bed, your glasses slipping down your nose as you scribbled something into a notebook.

“Logan,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “You’re staring again.”

“Can’t help it, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “You’re a hell of a lot prettier than the walls.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of life. It tugged at something deep in his chest, the same way it always did. You pushed your glasses up the same way you always did, while you kept your head down, hiding that smile of yours.

Logan moved closer, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat beside you. You looked up at him, your eyes catching his in a way that made his heart stumble. He reached out, brushing a thumb against your cheek, and you leaned into his touch without hesitation.

“Don’t leave,” you said, so softly it almost wasn’t a sound. “Promise me you’ll stay this time.”

Logan’s jaw tightened at the sound of your voice. It was so achingly familiar, so damn real that he almost believed it was true. Almost.

“I’ll stay,” he said gruffly, the words falling from his lips before he could stop them. His hand stayed on your cheek, the warmth of your skin grounding him in a way that felt cruel and kind all at once. “Ain’t got anywhere else to be, sweetheart.”

You smiled, and for a moment, it was as if the weight in his chest lifted. The lines on his face softened as his thumb traced the curve of your jaw.

“You always say that,” you teased, leaning closer until your forehead rested against his. “And yet you always find a reason to leave.”

Logan closed his eyes, the accusation cutting deep, even if it wasn’t meant to hurt. The truth was, you weren’t wrong. Every life, every version of you, he’d lost—by fate, by chance, or by his own failure.

“Not this time,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

Your hand came up to cover his, delicate fingers wrapping around his much larger ones. “But you have to go,” you said softly, eyes searching his face. “You can’t stay here.”

Logan’s chest tightened, the dream taking on that cruel, vivid sharpness that felt too real to be anything but torture. His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “No,” he growled, voice low and almost desperate. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Not again.”

You smiled at him, but there was sadness in it. The kind of sadness that cut deep, quiet and understanding. “You have to,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his knuckles like you were comforting him. “You don’t belong here.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, the weight of your words sinking in, but he didn’t loosen his grip on you. “This ain’t fair,” he said, his voice rough, teetering on the edge of anger and pain. “You were s’posed to stay this time. We had plans, remember? You, me…” His voice cracked, and he looked away, the words catching in his throat.

Your free hand came up to cup his face, gently coaxing him to look back at you. “Logan,” you said, your tone tender but firm, “you’ve always been the strongest man I know. But even you can’t fight this.”

“I can try,” he said gruffly, his hand tightening around yours. “I’d fight the whole damn world if it meant I got to keep you.”

Your smile softened, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had paused. “I know,” you said. “And you always have. But you don’t need to fight anymore. Not for me.”

Logan’s brows drew together, his eyes glassy as he searched your face for something, anything that might make this easier. “I don’t know how to let go,” he admitted, the words barely audible. “I don’t even know who I am without you.”

“You’re Logan,” you said simply, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. “You’re the man who’s lived a thousand lives and still keeps going, no matter what.”

He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? Well, livin’ don’t feel much like livin’ without you.”

Your hand slid down from his face, resting over his heart. “I’ll always be here,” you said softly, your eyes holding his like they could anchor him. “Every heartbeat, every breath—you’ll carry me with you.”

Logan closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled a shaky breath. He wanted to believe you, to hold onto your words like they could fill the gaping hole you’d left behind. But when he opened his eyes again, the bed was empty, and the only sound was the faint hum of the motel’s heater.

His fist was still clenched around the ring, the metal warm from his grip. Logan sat up, dragging a hand down his face as the reality of the dream settled over him like a fresh wound. He looked down at the ring, the faint light catching on its surface, and let out a bitter chuckle.

“Even in my dreams, you’re tellin’ me to move on,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not yet.

---

But life has plans for all people. Even if those plans separate us

from the ones we love. No matter where my life takes me or

yours takes you, I will love you whether there are a thousand

miles between us or none at all.

---

Logan stood outside the hotel room, rain steadily pouring down on him as Mariko slept inside.

“That’s a lot of blood.”

He looked over to the side and saw you—or rather a vision, hallucination?—of you. “I thought you were done being the hero.” You continued.

“These guys were… trying to kill her.”

You gave him a small smile before walking closer to him, kissing his stubbled jaw and turning his head to you with a hand on his cheek. “You’ve always been a hero.”

Logan’s throat tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m no hero, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely. “Not without you.”

Your hand lingered on his cheek, your gaze steady and unyielding. “You’re always going to be a hero Logan.” You tilted your head and even in this vision, your glasses had specks of rain on them from the downpour, “especially mine.”

The words hit Logan harder than any physical blow ever could. His jaw tightened as he stared at you—or the echo of you, the cruel trick his mind had conjured. Your presence was so real he could almost feel the warmth of your palm against his weathered skin, the way your touch had always managed to ground him no matter how lost he felt.

“Darlin’...” The word slipped from his lips in a voice rough with disbelief and pain. “This... this ain’t real.”

Your soft smile didn’t falter. “Maybe not,” you admitted, your tone impossibly gentle. “But does that really matter?”

He took a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours for answers he already knew he wouldn’t find. “It matters,” he rasped. “’Cause I can’t... I can’t keep seein’ you like this. I can’t keep hearin’ your voice in my head, feelin’ like—like you’re still here when you ain’t.”

You moved closer, your hand sliding from his cheek to rest over his heart. Logan flinched but didn’t pull away. He couldn’t—not from you, even if you weren’t really here.

“I’ll always be here,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against the soaked fabric of his shirt. “You know that. You carry me with you, Logan. Every lifetime, every moment—you never let me go.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, hollow and heavy. “Maybe that’s the problem, sweetheart. Maybe I’m the one who can’t let go.”

“You’re not supposed to,” you said simply. “Not yet.”

Logan’s gaze hardened, the fire of his grief and frustration sparking through his voice. “Not yet? Then when, huh? When the hell am I supposed to stop seein’ your face every time I close my eyes? When am I supposed to stop hearin’ your voice every time I take a breath?”

You tilted your head again, your expression unreadable but calm in a way that only made his turmoil worse. “When you’re ready,” you said quietly. “And not a moment before.”

The rain poured harder, running in rivulets down Logan’s face as he stared at you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wanted to be angry, to scream at you, to demand why you’d left him—again, always. But he couldn’t. He never could. Not with you.

Instead, he whispered, “I miss you.”

Your hand pressed more firmly against his chest, where his heart thundered beneath your touch. “I know,” you said, your voice like a balm over his frayed edges. “I miss you, too.”

The blood loss finally took effect, and without his healing he stumbled to the ground, passing out.

if you read this, thank you! next chapter is back to our regularly scheduled programming, 'days of future past'! and oh boy, will it be everything you wished for ;)

also, i'm flying home for xmas break today so i'm super excited and happy that i'll have more time to write and read my long tbr. anyways, i'm off to catch a(nother) flight! xoxo

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #i love you in every time

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xxtc-96xx · 4 months ago

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Found a Totally Legal format to watch Mufasa: The Lion King so as someone who was formerly deeply involved in the lion king years back it seems right to give my thoughts:

Jesus wept what have they done (there will also be spoilers see more to read my stupid rant lol)

Now I can see a few spots in the story that could have lead to interesting ideas, in a better story for sure. The problem is the story overall was incredibly cluttered, they rushed from one point to the next and didn’t let any moments sit and breathe. Kiara was cute but Timon and Pumbaa practically held the audience hostage every time an interlude in Rafiki’s story happened with the same routine of “why aren’t WE in the story???” Every time undermining any authentic moments with Kiara and Rafiki

The biggest gripe I have is with Taka and Mufasa’s relationship or lack there of. Aside from having a song saying they’re brothers they hardly have a bond at all that we see. Mufasa is forced to stay away from Taka in the short time they’re even in Taka’s home, Mufasa has a closer bond with Taka’s mother Eshe than he does with his “brother”

Even dumber that several brief lines, Obashi, Taka’s father, keeps mentioning blood bonds are all that matter and Taka kind of argued against that as if the lesson here is that there’s more to family than blood…..except we all know what happens with Scar so in the end his father was right, blood bonds are all that matter because it took next to nothing to turn on Mufasa and he murdered him later in life anyways lol

Even on their Land Before Time style journey that takes them to the pride lands I feel nothing towards Mufasa and Taka, I never once believe they had a deep brotherly bond of any sort. Which makes it even more stupid that all it takes for Taka to betray all of them is Sarabi deciding she has feelings for Mufasa and not Taka.

Mufasa even played as a wingman and tried his best to direct Sarabi to Taka but in the end the two of them bonded instead, and Taka flips the traitor switch instantly over that without even confronting him about it and from then on he speaks as his 2019 Incel murder counterpart, even confessed to Mufasa proudly of his betrayal and yet Mufasa and everyone else is stupid enough to just let him stick around anyways, every line he delivered post betrayal was said in the same way one would say “I’m going to murder every one of you and also you smell bad”

Overall a very frustrating and hollow experience, it didn’t feel like it added anything to the overall universe and now Scar apologists have more to work with despite the fact Taka in the film is terrible and hardly has any redeeming qualities XD

If you want a better falling out story as I’ve said before, watch Transformers One. You feel the bond between Orion Pax and D16, you sympathize with D16’s slow decent into a dark place and you mourn the lost brotherhood between Optimus and Megatron but still know that Megatron was still in the wrong by the end. I felt none of that in Mufasa

Also Mufasa’s dad never told him about the great kings of the past because he’s not a king, and the throw away line in the terrible 2019 remake Zazu said specifically for the prequel mentioned he knew a headstrong cub who was always getting into scrapes but Zazu didn’t meet Mufasa until he was a young adult XD

#Mufasa the lion king review

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nak4m8to · 1 year ago

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Big Boss (18+)

corporate! au l rivals to lovers! l nsfw smut mdni!

summary : mingyu, a charismatic and ambitious executive, finds himself in a tense professional relationship with the reader. The reader, harboring a deep-seated dislike for mingyu, navigates the cutthroat corporate world with a determination to outshine him at every turn. As the two clash in boardroom meetings and compete for promotions, the ceo forces them to collaborate on a high-stakes project.

content : executive chef! mingyu, mixed! reader, mingyu being an asshole a lil bit + eavesdropper conversation SMUT! office sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m. and f.) degradation , praise, bigdickmingyu!, filthy and messy ass sex, cocky! mingyu, jealous! mingyu, jealous! reader, seungkwan and yeri gossiping,

wc : 8,649 k ( damn)

an : finally out! hope you’ll like as much i liked write it. Let me know what you think ! sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.Thank you for all the likes and the sweet comments <3

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One thing you specifically hate about him is how his smell lingered everywhere he went. The strong musky smell with the additional smell of his strong freshly pressed coffee. It was his signature fragrance. Every time, you smelled that strong coffee it reminded you of Mingyu. It might be one of the reasons of the loathe towards him, you can't get him out of you mind. This aversion, perhaps intensified by the constant reminder of him, was further fueled by the intense competition for the significant promotion your boss had put forward.

You also hate the way he was getting into your nerve every time he gets the chance too, it also felt you both have the same brilliant ideas in some of your projects. You hated his perfect face, the different moles on his face, you can even know where they are located. On his left cheek, on in his forehead and on his nose. His striking appearance in that perfectly tailored suit irked you. You hated how his long hair makes him look even better than he already is. You hated how small and intimidated you felt next to him even though you're not that small specially in those heels and how confident you are.

Although, he hated you too. He hated the sound of your heels clicking on the floor, he knows the sound of it better than the back of his hand. He hated the way your curls were surrounding your face, he hated the fact that you never came without your infamous lip combo, he might even know the products that you used, he think it's fenty ? hot chocolate something ? he hate the way you've smiled to every colleagues except him. He hated that you like to show off your body, either with those short skirt, long enough to be corporate appropriate but short enough to tease him, your glowy tan legs always makes you look ethereal or even when you wear those shoulder showing shirt.

Entering the new company building, you present your business card at the automatic gantries and exchange greetings with the receptionists. While waiting for the elevator, Mr Lee surprises you with a cheerful greeting, mentioning that the boss wants to see you for a presentation.

Entering the elevator and he press the button to level number six. "Really ? I hope he needs me to do it though it'll help for the promotion" you said winking at him. You start checking yourself through the mirror just to make sure your hair is in place until you see a silhouette coming from afar. Tall, large shoulders, long hair. Fuck that asshole, you said you to yourself.

"I don't know how you manage with all these project without a burn out reader" Listening to Mr. Lee as the frustration build up, you focus on the elevator buttons, you press them repetitively, not wanting to be near that man.

"Me too, I don't know how I manage, I just like competing against Mr.Kim I guess" hearing the brown hair man chuckles next to you but your attention is fixed on avoiding Mingyu.

As the elevator doors close, you flash a fake smile at Mingyu, successfully leaving him behind." I can't bare him" "I think everyone can see that reader ... You know one day you'll need to cooperate with him for work" "hopefully this day is not coming soon" You sighed while checking your e-mails in your phone. The small ding of the elevator makes your head to look up and the door opens. "After you Mrs. Reader" said Mr.Lee letting go out first."Thank your Mr.Lee" smiling at him. While walking towards your office, you felt eyes burning in your back, mostly your ass. Let's said that the dress you wore gave you justice. Did Mr. Lee let you pass so he can stare at your ass ? Did he ? He didn't right ?

Installing your bag in chair, you send a greeting to Seungkwan, sitting across of the open space, busy talking business with a client on the phone. "Hey! Ready to start the day ?" Yeri said to you "Girl have you seen the bags under my eyes ?" you give her a dead plan face expressing how tired you are but you can't show it to your superiors like Mr. Lee or even worse to your boss otherwise they would stop handing you important cases for the company due to the lack of sleep. Securing the promotion is essential to give recognition and reward sacrifices you've made so far, you deserve to be paid well. And bonus, Mr.Kim will not be your supervisor anymore. Well technically, he's still be your supervisor but he will not have that much authority anymore. Yeri start to rub her hand in your back to soothe the soreness due to the stress that your body endured. You start to printed out an important file that you supposed to handle to Mr.Jeon later so he can complete the remaining task by himself. Sighing in front of the computer, not prepared of what is waiting for you to be done at the end of the day

After a few hours, you finally get up and take the file with you. "Good luck reader ! You got it, Mr.Jeon will love your work anyway you're brilliant!" Seungkwan said trying to reassure you. "Thanks but he's kind of having that scary aura though" you said rubbing your neck trying to calm the anxiety down. "He does but you just need to seduce him a little a bit" Yeri winking at you making you laugh and relax a bit "I heard that he's a boob guy either way you have your chance, show a bit of cleavage and voilà" Seungkwan exaggerated the cleavage motion making you giggle even more, as you playfully hit his shoulder with the file. "You are both insufferable" "Perhaps we are, but you look less stress now"

You knocks firmly at the door, you hear a small "Enter", you pushed the door. Mr.Jeon smiled faintly at you as you enter his office. Always with his infamous specs resting on his nose. Someone already occupying the chair across from him, even from behind you recognized who is it. "Hello Mr.Jeon, here is what I found" handing the file to Mr. Jeon, who is seated at his desk."Thanks Reader, I'll try my best to continue what you've done""And me ? I don't deserve a hello ? after what you've done earlier" You meet his brown-eyed gaze, the intensity of it makes your thighs clench involuntarily. He sits in front of you, manspreading, his face propped up by his hand. As you observe him, the urge to wipe that irritating smirk off his face intensifies, especially with that damn suit. Surprisingly, you realize you might have a thing for men in suits, you didn't know that it was possible to have one. "What did I do? I don't recall anything " one of your eyebrows raised. He shift in his seat ready to answer you but Mr.Jeon interrupted him before its start to get hectic."Thank you again for working with me reader" "No problem, see you later" and you exit without giving a chance to Mingyu to reply. His tongue glides over his lips "Feisty" Wonwoo gazing on the file that you handed him. " I like em' like that"

Lunch time finally arrived, you rise, stretching your arms while waiting for Yeri to conclude her call. "Damn, that client didn't want me to finish with her" "Yeah I've heard that, let's go grab some lunch I'm starving, Seungkwan will join us"

Grabbing food in the restaurant's company, you ate your lunch while Yeri is talking about how she found the new recruit cute. You don't really recall his name. "Reader ! He's here oh my god look at him ! how the shirt hugs his arms" whisper-shouted, pointing at a tall, blond man with a mullet. Mr. Lee was showing him around. "He seems really cute, what's his name again?"

"Chan, you don't listen when I talk, right?" "Not everything, not gonna lie" "Something must be occupying your mind ? What is it ? Did Mr Jeon didn't like your work ?" "No, he didn't say anything about it" Little did you know that a pair of ears were eavesdropping your conversation with your favorite colleague. "You remember the guy that I met at the bar the other night ?" "Yeah, what about him" "He's cute but he was awful in bed" "Damn you have no chance at all" "The only way to make me feel better after those agitating weeks is literally having sex, and even that I can't have it" "I'll help you to find another guy that will make you cum I promise" putting her hands on your naked shoulder. "I can't even trust you anymore, do you know how long I didn't fucking cum ?!" whispering-shouting in your turn. Mingyu couldn't believe what he was hearing, you were mainly acting like a bitch towards him, particularly these last weeks, because you hadn't cum ?!

He felt betrayed and pleased simultaneously—betrayed because other guys had the chance to feel your skin under their touch and pleased due to the fact that you didn't get any pleasure from it. A demonic smirk adorned his face, he left the place not wanting to know more about it.

"Gossip of the day girls !" Yeri and you turn your heads in sync after hearing seungkwan's voice. "Well, one concerns you, reader. Why didn't you tell us that you closed the elevator's door in front of Mr Kim's face this morning ?!" "Reader ? Seriously?" Yeri uttered. "I was already pissed from that terrible weekend, I didn't want to interact him that early! I didn't know that Mr Lee is a snitch though!" "I think half of the people that work here kinda know that" "What's the second gossip of the day?" "The new hot guy will work with us" "No fucking way !" Yeri squealed like a teenager girl. "We were literally talking about him" "Yeri you better fuck him by the end of the year" "Don't listen to him, it'll be weird in the office if you guys have sex. Don't mix business and pleasure"

"Reader, you're boring ! We want drama! We want thrill in our life !" "Hey, look at that girl twirling her hair while talking to Mr. Kim." Your eyes follow the scene in front of you, capturing the interaction. The blonde girl is giggling at whatever Mingyu whispers in her ear, her laughter echoing in the air. One of her hands confidently grabs his biceps, creating an intimate connection that sends a pang of jealousy creeping into your chest when your eyes lock with Mingyu's. The atmosphere is charged with unspoken dynamics, and you notice the subtle shifts in body language between them. Mingyu's charismatic smile, the girl's playful gestures "I bet that joke wasn't that funny," Seungkwan remarks, rolling his eyes, sensing the tension in the air.

Adjusting your smudged lipgloss after the meal, you receive a message from your boss, Mr. Choi, instructing you to visit his office in fifteen minutes. Is this related to what Mr. Lee mentioned earlier this morning? "Guys, Boss wants me in his office. We'll catch up later for a break?" "Yeah! Good luck, reader! Think about the promotion." "I will."

The echo of your boots against the carpet prompts a smirk from Mingyu, signaling his awareness of your presence. Spotting him waiting for the elevator, you find yourself doing the same, unable to resist staring at how his suit accentuates his broad back. Catching a whiff of his distinctive scent, you unconsciously bite your lip, even with a layer of lip gloss applied.

As the elevator dings, coworkers exit with polite smiles, and you and Mingyu exchange nods with them. Inside the elevator, a subtle nervousness creeps in with him standing so close. Your fingers hover over the button for the ninth floor when you feel his rugged fingers brush against yours, both selecting the same floor. Startled, you withdraw your hand and fix your gaze on the closing doors, trying to feel indifferent to this sudden contact.

He breaks the silence, saying, "You know, there's no need to keep such a distance. I don't bite unless it's asked." "Don't worry, I just prefer to maintain a certain distance from you" responding to him while trying to distract yourself with your rings wrapped around your fingers. He start to shamelessly checking you out, causing your body to heat you. His eyes couldn't resist to your exposed back shoulder and neck. His weakness was really how that dress tightly embraced your hips and accentuated your ass. He start to think what you'd look like bent over on his office's desk with the lower part of the dress bunched up in your waist and the upper part exposing completely your tits. His thoughts were lost on what if you are wearing a bra underneath this god damn dress. You mentally cursed yourself why did you wore that thick dress, but you really like how you looked with it . The material was not appropriate for a Mingyu situation.

Ding, the door finally open and you unconsciously released the breath that you've been holding and star to lead the walk. Confused you still feel him following you, is he not going somewhere else ? Halting just outside Mr. Choi's door, you abruptly turn to find his equally puzzled expression. "Why are you following me?" "I could ask you the same. I have a crucial meeting with Seungcheol; he informed me about a last-minute project. I don't think you'll be needed, reader," he says in a manner that implies only a supervisor can handle such situations, making you feel inferior.

"Mr Kim, could you stop being so full of yourself for once?" The door unexpectedly swung open, surprising you both, revealing a blond concerned Mr. Choi. Did he died his hair ? Well, he looks hot blond. "I was waiting for your arrival. Enter; we don't have much time." You both approach his office, and he guides you to sit on the chairs across his desk while he takes his place.

"So, I've gathered both of you because I have a last-minute meeting in 3 days with SM Inc." "I thought it was planned for next month." "They advanced it." Mingyu's muttered curse makes me realize the severity of the situation. "Jeonghan is already handling a mission in Japan, and I have to go help him because he's facing difficulties. That's why I'm asking you, Mingyu. You're a good negotiator and a wise man," Mr. Choi says, looking at him. "And Reader, in just a few months, you've proven to the whole company how much you can do. You're my best asset, and you can come up with good arguments."

"But Mr. Choi, I can't even think of one argument right now. I'm not suggesting you to reconsider someone else, but Mr Kim and I have two distinct ways to work, so-" "I already know that. That's why I'm asking both of you to do it." You feel cornered because it's a critical issue and mostly because you need to cooperate with the asshole next to you.

Fingers running through his hair, Mingyu is thinking how he can complete a month's work in just 3 days. "We will offer them to take 12% of our shares, no more or less, and try to come up with good arguments." You start biting your lips out of nervousness. "Put your differences aside and work together for the company's future."

"I can work with her, but I don't think she can. She's quite temperamental," Mingyu says, turning his head towards you. Your eyes shoot daggers at him. "What do you mean by that, Mr. Kim? Are you implying that women cannot control their emotions?" As you size him up "I'm not saying women, I'm just saying you. Don't generalize it." "Hey, calm down, you two! This is crucial!" Wanting to roll your eyes, you resist the urge due to the fact that you have too much respect for your boss.

"If it helps, the one with the best arguments will be promoted." "I'm on it then." "Same!" "That's the spirit!" your boss claps his hands together. "But you're on the same team, okay? Don't make it too personal." Someone enters the office without knocking. "So, you've told them?" You turn your head to the man with short blond hair who just came through the door. What’s up about them with dyed blond hair ? Start to question yourself. "Yeah, I think they're both ready to work on it." The blonde man smirks at you, sensing his gaze. He approaches, takes your hands, and presses his soft lips on them. "I don't recall meeting you before. I'm Kwon Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi." Startled by his persona, you mutter a small "nice to meet you" out of respect. The dark-haired man on your side felt a pang of jealousy. More of possessiveness, why those men throw themselves at you. You're supposed to be exclusively his and only his he wondered.

"If you have more questions, ask Hoshi; he knows SM.Inc quite a lot." "Seriously, I should trust him," says Mingyu with an unserious smile on his face. "For that case, I think you should." "That pretty much it, thank you for your implication on it"

Rising from your chair and quitting Mr. Choi's office, Mingyu follows your every move. Suddenly, his calloused hands grab your wrist, and he instructs, "Reader, meet me in my office in 20 minutes." Instinctively pulling your arm away, you assert, "Firstly, don't grab me like that, and don't even think about putting your hands on me. Secondly, why in your office? I can work in my own and send you the arguments I've gathered." His hands release your wrist, and he explains, "Seungcheol mentioned that we need to collaborate, and we'll finish more early if two brains work together. Besides, my office offers the privacy and calm." He said implying the loudness of your open space with your noisy colleagues. You sigh, acknowledging the truth in his words but choosing not to admit it due to your pride. "Well, I need to call my client, inform her that Yeri will handle her mission alone, and I need coffee." Mingyu raises an eyebrow, "So thirty minutes will be enough?" suggesting the time required for your meeting. "I think so." "Now, if you excuse me," he passes closely by you, his body brushing against yours. Stunned, you can't help but flutter your eyes, too surprised to respond. "I thought you two were about to rip each other's throats out," Hoshi comments, accompanying you to the elevator. "I almost did." As the elevator doors close in front of Hoshi's and your face, you see Mingyu smirking, muttering, "Now we're even."

"No fucking way!" Yeri exclaims in shock as you deliver the news to her. "That mean I have to withdraw from the other case that we started, sorry" you said to her filling a bit upset. "Don't be sorry ! I'm more shocked that you will be working with Mr Kim!" "Who's working with who ?!" Seungkwan chimes in abruptly sipping his iced coffee. "Reader and Mingyu have a last-minute project that Mr Choi handled them, the presentation will be given in 3 days" "And now I have to meet him in 15minutes" you checked your phone " Wait, wait, wait" Seungkwan interrupts, making you both stop " So you're telling me that you'll be in the same room as Mr Kim by yourselves for the next 4 hours ?!" "Yeah, why ?" "Someone will be dead tonight" "Either him or her" "Or something else could happen"

You finish your call with your client, grabbing your laptop as you leave. "Please do not kill him; he's too hot to die young," Yeri jokes. "Like I care." "She seriously hates him." You confidently stride to his office, knocking on the door before entering. It feels like your first time stepping into his cold office, adorned with a small, expensive brown couch and a coffee table that looks as pricey as your rent. The closed blinds provide a cozy atmosphere, you can see throughout the blinds the beautiful view of the city from the windows. But it can't beat the view that you had of him. His attention is absorbed by the computer and scattered papers on his desk.

"I thought you'd never come," he remarks. "Well, here I am." His scrutinizing gaze lingers on your body unintentionally. "Here, come sit." Mingyu gestures towards a comfortable chair across from him, creating a necessary distance. You don't think you can focus with his buff body beside you. Seated, you open your laptop, both of you diving into your tasks, surprisingly the silence was comfortable and not a single moment of awkwardness happened. Focused on the critical situation and driven by competitiveness for the upcoming promotion, you find yourselves working together more smoothly than anticipated. As you can hear him shift on his chair. You glance in your rearview mirror, catching Mingyu as he takes off his suit jacket. Unable to resist, your eyes fixate on the muscles bulging beneath his shirt, particularly his pectoral muscles straining against the fabric. The desire to feel those muscles under your nails intensifies, and your mind starts to wonder about how he could manhandle you. Mingyu senses the intensity of your gaze, creating an unspoken tension in the air. "You like the view" Startled by his question "You really have a nice view of the city" avoiding the real question.

He smirks, nodding at your reply, and decides to tease you further. "If you ever need help with anything else, feel free to ask," referring to the overheard conversation from noon. Oblivious to the context, you assert, "I don't think I'm struggling with anything right now." Unaware that he's alluding to your earlier discussion about difficulties reaching climax with your partners.

Ding, your phone buzzes with a message. "Is it from the guy who couldn't make you cum?" Mingyu remarks, causing warmth to spread across your face and deep within your torso. Feeling humiliated, you scold him, "Where did you hear that?" With a nonchalant tone "You have to be careful about those discussions in the office, it's not really appropriate" "You’re quite a pervert to listen to women's discussions" Not knowing what to response to him. Uncomfortable with his prying, you open your phone to check Hoshi's message, attempting to avoid Mingyu's gaze.

Rising from his chair, Mingyu walk towards you, positioning himself in front of you. He locks your gaze with his, one hand securing the armrest of your chair and the other under your jaw. His touch feels warm, and you can't help but bite your lips as his whispered words about helping you echo in your ears. "I was not joking when I said I could help you with that" While Mingyu was thinking how you look with your mouth stuffed with his heavy cock, with your puffy, glossed lips surrounding his dick. You resist moaning by biting down harder on your lower lip. Attempting to excuse yourself to retrieve the file with Hoshi, you start to get up, but Mingyu's body remains an obstacle. His hand settles on the lower part of your back, making your knees weak. You feel the heat rising from your hands resting on his pecs, eyes still locked. However you can't help to feel something heavy poking on your lower tummy due to how squished your body's on him, fuck he's big big. "I really need to go," you plead, meeting his eyes, and he relents, allowing you to escape his touch. "You can't avoid it forever, Mrs. Reader," he warns, and you promise to return."I'll be back"As you leave, the rhythmic pulsing in your head makes you feel foolish. Surrendering to him so easily leaves you unsettled. You know just with this contact, you feel your thong dampened.

"Hey, Reader, here's the file that could help you for SM. Inc. Wow, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?" "Just a little bit stressed." "Come take a break with us." You sit yourself next to Mr. Lee, who was discussing with Hoshi before you came. "I would make you a coffee; you'll feel better," says Hoshi. "Is working with Mingyu really that bad?" Your voice sounds tired. "He's quite special, let's say it like that." Hoshi is back, giving you an espresso, which you kindly accept. You sip it while Hoshi explains what will be beneficial for SM to take part of your action. As you take a look at the folder in front of you, Mingyu enters the same room as you. "Do you need me already, Mr. Kim?" All heads turn toward him. Even other coworkers in the open space are looking at him; well, some of them are devouring his veiny arms exposed by his folded shirt's sleeve. Some of them, including you, of course. "You said you would pick up the file, not discuss with Hoshi," his eyes are going back and forth between you and his colleagues. You felt everyone's eyes trying to follow the discussion between him and you. "Well, I have it, but he was just advising me." "I thought you didn't need any help," implicitly talking about your previous conversation with him, but nobody knew what you were talking about. Then the same blonde woman from lunch came and asked, "Mr. Kim, do you need my help? I think I'll be a better help than Mrs. Reader." started to provoking you, the only reaction you gave her was rolling your eyes. However, she was almost about to grab his arm that you get up, and you do it instead, which makes Mingyu look surprised about your sudden reaction. Are you jealous? "I think Mr. Choi insisted that only Mr. Kim and I are required in this project, but thank you for your kind offer." You smile fakely at her and drag Mingyu into the quiet corridors. Hoshi and Dokyeom start to look at each other, thinking if this scene really happened in front of them.

"That was... something," Hoshi comments as you and Mingyu leave the room. "I think 'something' is quite the word to describe what happened in front of us." said Dokyeom to his colleague.

The two of you walk down the quiet corridor away from prying eyes. "What was that about?" you ask Mingyu, curiosity and a touch of irritation in your tone. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replies with an innocent look, though his eyes betray a hint of mischief. "Oh, please. The little show you just put on in there," you retort, not buying into his act. "You seem a bit... possessive," he smirks, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Don't flatter yourself. I just don't appreciate unnecessary distractions." Rolling your eyes, you continue down the corridor, leaving Mingyu to follow your lead. The tension between you two hangs in the air, a silent agreement that this project is going to be far from ordinary. Before you even enters his office, his hands pinned you against the wall of the hallway. Both of his hands on attached to your hips. "What the-" You didn't even finish your sentences that he smashed his lips into your glossy one. You can't help feel shocked

As Mingyu's lips press against yours, you're momentarily stunned, caught off guard by the unexpected intensity of the kiss. His actions are bold, and you find yourself torn between pushing him away and succumbing to the surprising rush of sensations. The hallway, usually a space of quick transits and business-like exchanges, transforms into a inappropriate scene

His hands, which initially held you firmly, start to explore the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. One of them groping your ass firmly making you unconsciously moan into his lips . While the other one is firmly cupping your jaw. Your initial shock evolves into a mixture of confusion and something else—a strange, electrifying connection. Both of your hands are secured in shoulder too stunned to used them. His lips start to tingle due the lipgloss you applied earlier.

Just as quickly as it began, Mingyu pulls away, leaving you breathless and disoriented. His eyes, dark and intense, lock onto yours, and the unspoken tension lingers in the air. "What the hell was that?" you manage to stammer, trying to regain your composure.

Mingyu, usually so confident and composed, appears somewhat disheveled. A flicker of uncertainty passes through his eyes, but it's quickly replaced by his signature smirk. "Consider it a reminder, Reader. We may have to work together, but it doesn't mean I'll play nice."

Before you can respond, he steps back, leaving you against the wall, heart pounding. The quiet corridor bears witness to the unexpected encounter, and as Mingyu heads into his office, you're left grappling with a mixture of emotions, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and irritation.

You try to pluck up one's courage and enter his office, locking the door behind you, which makes his head lift with a perplexed look. Determination fuels your steps as you stride towards him, reaching out to grab him by his tie. The air in the room thickens with tension as your eyes lock onto his, silently daring him to react. As you close the distance between you two and share a heated kiss. The taste of lingering coffee and the electrifying chemistry between you both intensify the moment. The world outside that office seems to fade away as the kiss deepens, blurring the lines between rivalry and desire.

The other hand gripping the back of his neck, wanting to feel the texture of his hair. Mingyu picks you up easily as you legs secure themself around his waist. Both of his hands are grasping your asscheeks. "I hate you so much" you mutters on his lips. He chuckled making your pussy clench on nothing. "Well if you came here kissing me then you want my help do you?". You nods at his words which he didn't like it. "Use your words and tell me what you really want" Your nails are grazing the skin of the back of his neck making him shivers. "I want you to make me me cum" you said still looking at his eyes, and the corners of his lips curl into a smug smile. "You hate me so much, yet you desire me," he remarks, his hands sliding down your back, sending shivers down your spine. He puts you down on his papers scattered desks. "Why should I help you?" he teases, pulling away slightly, but your grip on his hair tightens. The scent of his cologne envelops you, adding to the intoxicating mix.

"Because," you breathe, your voice laced with frustration and need, "I can't stand the thought of you being the reason I'm left unsatisfied." Mingyu smirks, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on your waist. "You're quite the complex woman, Reader," he says, his lips dangerously close to yours. Felling his hot breath in your neck, with how close he is. "But if that's what you want, I'll make you beg for it."

Mingyu's hands trail along the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders, sending shivers down your spine. His lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses til you right shoulder, that ignite a fire within you. Your hands tangle in his hair as you guide him,your mind conflicted between hatred and the throbbing need pulsating between your legs. The fabric of your off-shoulder dress becomes a tantalizing barrier, amplifying the heat between you.

The tension in the room intensifies as desire and rivalry intertwine, creating a palpable atmosphere. As he slowly guides the top of your dress under your tits. "No bra ? You're such a tease" You didn't had time to answer him that his hot mouth engulfed your brown aerola making you moan while his other hand firmly played with your other tit. What a view you thought to yourself, Mingyu sucking at your tits was not in your bingo card. "Most of beautiful tits I have ever seen"

Mingyu's hands, strong and demanding, explore the contours of your tits with a familiarity that surprises you. The cool surface of his desk meets your back as he lays down you effortlessly, the contrast of the polished wood against your heated skin sending a shiver through your body. His teeth grazing your nipple makes you elicits a moan, and you instinctively tighten your grip behind his neck. "Mr Kim ... please don't leave any trace." Mingyu smirks, his eyes locked onto your pleading expression. "Well, You're mine now," he asserts, pulling away from your chest to capture your lips. As his hands work to gather the fabric of your long dress around your thighs, you respond with a sigh on his lips. Attempting to assert dominance, you bite his lip, only to succumb to the overpowering sensation of his hot tongue invading your mouth. Wanting to feel him more, you spread your thighs to let him a place between them. Allow your hands to glide along his back and powerful biceps. You can't help to whimper feeling his muscles twitch under your touch. The soft hum of approval escapes his lips, when you start to rub your hands to his semi-hard. You can't help try to size up how big he is.

He grap both your wrist and pinned them down on his desk. He breaks the kiss, observing your curly hair framing your face, your eyes lost in pleasure.

He turns your around, placing you on your stomach, as your tits pressed against the desk. At this moment, he couldn't care less about the paper. The sight you present him with your ass makes his tongue glide along his lips with hunger. Flipping your dress to your waist, he's gifted with your round ass, the only barrier being your wet thong hiding your pussy. Feeling his cock growing even harder. He wish he could take a picture of how docile and how you offer yourself to him.

Cocking an arrogant grin, Mingyu leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Now, that's a delightful view, don't you think?" His hands slide sensually over your ass, teasingly grazing the edges of your thong. "I could have everything I want right now, but I enjoy seeing you squirm." You clench your fists, frustration and desire intertwining. "Don't push your luck, Mingyu."

He chuckles, the sound low and provocative. "Oh, now it's Mingyu ?" He smooths his palm on you ass and spank you just right after. Your body flinched after the impact with a whine leaving your lips. "I plan to push it as far as it can go. But for now, let's focus on what you asked for, shall we?" His fingers played with your thong as he takes it off slowly still teasing you. "I like it when you say my name" He started to caress you everywhere except your pussy, you can't help to squirm to show your frustration.

“If you want me to help you, you'll have to ask nicely," he murmurs, a devilish glint in his eyes. You can't help yourself to surrender to him, “Mingyu touch me” Pang his palm hit you ass makes you want to cry but deep down you loved the way he treated you and he knew that just by the way your pussy's lips are puffy and how your hole keep producing more wetness. He knew that you were completely aroused about this situation so was he. His hard on start to feel more painful as he continues to playfully provoke you, he takes pleasure in observing your reactions to his every move. “I said ask nicely, slut” He can even see how your hole clenched around nothing. “Please Mingyu, touch me with your fingers” You begged him desperately wanting his thick fingers inside you. “That's how you’re supposed to beg slut” One of his finger enter your pulsating walls as you twitch from the intrusion. “Who would've thought, you bend over on my desk begging me to fingering you. Everyone thought you hated me but in fact is quite the opposite. You’re just an attention whore” as Mingyu pronounces those degrading works, your velvety walls clamped even more on his fingers. “Please Mingyu- more” moaning desiring more. Fuck he can't say no to you and inserted one more fingers making you whimper again. Mingyu being drunk on your moans start to rub his confined dick to your ass. More he added fingers the more you clench on it. “Let me prep you for my cock” He picked up the pace and start to massage hastily your walls creating a mess on his hand, leaking on the carpet of his office. “Fuck I'm about to cum”.

He retract his finger rapidly not wanting to climax now “Mingyu are fucking serious I was about to -“ He cut you off by plopping you on your back. Pushed his drench fingers by your nectar in your mouth tasting yourself. The sight that Mingyu had of you almost made him cum, your hazed eyes, your tits out and your pussy drenched. He desired to be the only person granted access to this filthy sight. “Let me eat your pussy” . You nods vividly and push your thigh apart. “So obedient” he coos at you while he pushes your knees against your chest. The way your pussy was drooling on the desk makes him wanting to devour you even more. He start to flick your clit between his fingers.

“Mingyu-ah please don't tease” “Sorry baby” him growing soft for you as he approaches his mouth to your puffy pussy lips. The first time his lick make him realize that he can't get enough of your taste. He start flicking your clit with his tongue which make you squirm. He firmly locked your plush thighs with each of his hands to not letting you move. “Fuck… Gyu..” he start to lock his gaze into yours which makes you even more excited. Your fingers start to lock itself on his long dark hair, tugging them softly. He hums on your pussy creating more vibrations. You let a muffled scream surprised by his action. “Not too loud, they might hear us” slapping your inner thighs, his chin was completely wet of your juices mix with his saliva. He dived back again, eating with all of his willpower making you want to cry even more. Your climax approach faster than before as you felt wave of pleasure in your lower stomach. The slurping noise were too dirty to be heard in this professional location.

But you don't even care, too lost in how Mingyu's tongue was feasting on your pussy. “Mingyu keep going please” you cried. Motivated by your beautiful voice he start to give you even more pleasure. You close your eyes feeling the wave of your orgasm taking your body as your legs start to shake and your vision start to become white. He continued until the last drop. Too pussy drunk, Mingyu was still eating you out addicted to your sweet taste but you were starting too feel the overstimulation coming. You hands on his black strands started to pull him away from your pussy but he had too much strength so he didn't move an inch. Only giving you a devilish grin. The fact that you were half naked expoed to him and him still fully clothed made you even more vulnerable.

Your eyes start to tear up and pleading him stop but he kept going, entering his hot tongue in your hole. No one ever ate you out that way in your entire life. Feeling your heartbeat in your cunt start to accelerate.Your body start to heat up even more creating a small layer of sweat. Suddenly you felt a second wave of orgasm coming out as you push his face even more further into you trying to ride your orgasm. Mouth completely agape, no sound coming from you mouth as feel the wave throughout your body.

Finally he stop as you try to catch your breath. He gave open kisses in your inner thigh as he comes up at your level with half of his face completely covered of mix of your cum and his saliva. He reached out for your face, as you kiss him in a more tender way. Tasting the mixture in his mouth made the experiment even more intimate. If he eat pussy like this you might start falling in love with him. “Your pussy’s taste is fucking addictive” you smirked at him as he helps you to get down from the desk still holding you close to his body. You pushed him to let him set on his chair as you get down on you knees, your eyes filled with greed.

Wanting to feel his cock your start to unbuckle his belt as Mingyu smirks arrogantly and says, "Having trouble there, sweetheart?" Ignoring his arrogant remark. He's still wearing that smug expression, you manage to unbuckle his belt, maintaining your confident demeanor. Mingyu, still trying to assert his dominance, smirks and says, "You really think you can handle someone like me?" Your eyes meet his, and with a subtle laugh, you reply, "Oh, I can handle more than you think, Mr. Kim." you told him playfully using his formal title.

As you proceed, the tension between you two escalates. Mingyu, caught off guard by your boldness, finds himself in uncharted territory. The power dynamic shifts, and for the first time, he's met with someone who not only matches his arrogance but exceeds it. The air thickens with anticipation

As you take out his cock you were quite surprised by the size of it. When you felt him a few minutes ago you thought he was big big but this is fucking huge. Everything is big on him, his body, his muscles, his fucking ego and of course his fucking cock. Fuck, maybe you were too cocky. It rest hot and heavy on both of your palm. The tip was already smeared of his precum. He's definitely the biggest you ever seen. As he ravished you just a few moments you wanted to do the same to him. As you take his tip on his mouth while your hands occupied the rest of his shaft. Your start to taste his salty precum. You start to jerking him off while looking at him . One of his hand behind his head while the other on top of your head. You can't help to think that's he's even more sexy like that. Determined to make him flinch. You spit on his cock to create more lube to help you take him. You wrapped your smudged lips around him trying to take as much as you can. Bobbing your head up and down trying to find a good tempo. You graze with your tongue the underside of his cock and give extra attention to the veins on that part of his cock. "fuck" he stuttered applying more pressure on the back of your head.

Even in his most dirty dream, Mingyu has never imagined this would happens. Your round tits out of your dress, mouth full of his cock while your hands are jerking the rest off. He's trying his best to not emptying himself right now in your mouth. As you try to take him as much you can, you gagged on him when you felt his tip caressing the back of your throat. Making him groan at the sound. "You look even better with my cock deep down in your throat"

His words made your thighs rub's together. Your eyes started to cry due to the lack of oxygen, you force yourself to breath with your nose and continue your ministration on the handsome man. You mouth let go of his dick, needed to breathe. Still managing to massage his length with your hands. He take his dick with his hand and start to smear the wetness of precum on your lips. Suddenly you felt his heavy dick slapping on you right cheek indicates you to open your mouth. You opened your mouth while poking your tongue out making him smirk at your action.

He start to slap the tip of his cock on your tongue. One of you hands were playing with your folds. Abruptly he forces his dick down your throat making you gag on him. You love being full of my cock don't you?" you hums approving what he said as you look at his eyes filled with lust. "Cute " he muttered thinking you didn't hear him. He’s even more handsome like that you didn't know it was possible. As you continue to close your throat around him, you start to massage his balls to help him finish faster. He groans as he places his both hands on your neck accelerating his hips movements. Feeling the tears coming down your cheeks.

Both of your hands steadying yourself on his legs. He continue until he released a deep groan. As you felt his hot salty cum in your mouths, he said to you "you better swallow everything, you've already made a mess on my carpet" locking his hands on your neck and jaw. Most of his cum we're already down you throat but a little bit tried to spill out of your mouth. Resulting, Mingyu’s finger collecting his cum from your chin to put it back in your mouth. "filthy slut"

Grabbing you by your waist , he manhandled you back into his desk. He plopped you to your stomach as he bend you over by pushing you back even more into the wood surface. His cold fingers run to your side until your ass, he spread your ass cheeks with his hands. "You're so fucking wet" "I'm gonna take you like that cuz I don't think you'll be able taking me in missionary" he said knowingly that your ass will hide a few inches of his dick. Try to remain as confident as possible. " I can take you in missionary, Mingyu" he smirked while giving his dick a few stroke, poking his tip to you clit making you shudder. "mmh, we'll see about that"

His align himself your entrance, entering only his tip making you moan. He suddenly grab you hair and start to spit next to you "You better be quiet or I stop" you nod, too scared to not cum on his thick dick. He continue to enter you, feeling the stretch burn your tears welled up. Your tight pussy was bullied by his girth. Not wanting to make any noise you start to bite on your arm. "Fuck, relax a bit. You're squeezing me" he said massaging your hips. Mingyu felt your raw velvety walls pulsating around his dick and sensed a suffocating pressure. He kept massaging your lower back and ass helping to relax so he can penetrate even more. If he don't start to move he think he'll cum right away. "Gyu... more" as you start to beg him while moving in your hips. "you're tight as fuuccckk" He's now deep down in your guts and you can't think anymore. The only thing in your mind is his big cock. "I thought I prepped you well but you're sucking the life out of me" you felt his dick throbbing in you as you keep begging for more and more. Too lost in your own pleasure. He began to quicken the pace while groping your hips and ass. Your frustration grew as you longed to see his face and feel him beneath your touch. "Want to touch you ...Gyu…" you start to utter between the moans. The sounds you made were utterly pornographic that almost made him cum. Taking his dick smeared of your juices out of your pussy. He flipped you, being on your back. Your arms locked around his neck as your lips finally collide. Struggling with the button of his shirt, you desire to feel him even closer, you start to taking off his tie. As you grapple with the fabric, he laughs softly against your lips, eliciting a smile from you like a teenage girl. The warning echoes in your mind not to fall for him, but the soft kiss on your right cheek makes it challenging. He rises from your body, and you instruct, "Be fast; I need you right now."

As Mingyu swiftly removes his shirt, you scan him, absorbing the sight of his body. The defined, tan muscles of his upper body come into your eyes— from his broad shoulders to his well-defined chest, the subtle ridges of abdominal muscles hinting at his underlying strength. The play of shadows emphasizes every contour, making the scene more captivating. Your gaze lingers, captivated by the visual spectacle he presents. You can't help to play with yourself in front of this sight. "You're making me so wet Mingyu" " I know baby, come here" saying this while taking both of your legs on his shoulder. You grab him by the neck as you kiss him again, finally feeling the warmth that he radiates from his body to your epidermis. His hand on your neck while the other align his dick to your entrance. " Tell me if it hurts too much sweetheart" Suddenly, everything becomes more intimate, and you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach as he treats you with care, his every touch deliberate and gentle.

He enters your pussy making you hiss at the intrusion. "Fuck, you feel even more bigger" trying to grip yourself to his bulging biceps and your nails start to dig on his back. "I told you" as he start to quicken his pace. You moan start to get louder as the rhythm starts to become faster. He squeezed enough your throat to reduced your airflow making you feel even more delirious about all the sensations. It also helps to reduce your moan, which was a miracle nobody interrupted you yet. His mouth kept worshipping the rest of your body and whispering filthy words in your neck. Knowing that you'll not last longer you told him as he acknowledge it, he rubs your clit rigorously helping to reach your climax faster. He can't help himself to stare at where you're both connected to see a white ring of your cum around his cock that makes him whine. His hips start to become more sloppy as your walls clamped down on his cock. You kept chanting his name, your mind completely bathed in lust. Nails ripping off harder his back and his biceps. Him enjoying the small pain that you inflict on his skin. Feeling climax coming "Yes — fuck, I'm coming, I fucking love your dick mingyu" completely ecstatic on his dick while you felt tears coming down in your cheeks. He kissed away the tears while his hips are sloppier than ever, feeling his dick twitched inside you follow with the sensation a hot semen filling you up to the brim. His cum starting to ooze out of your pussy while he take his dick out of you, creating even more mess between your legs and the carpet underneath both of you.

He kissed you softly as he said " you're my slut now"

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Taglist: @ishireads @asyre @thepoopdokyeomtouched @mansaaay